by L. D. Davis
I knew he wasn’t a virgin, but I didn’t want to know that he was actively screwing girls. What if that’s all he really wanted from me? What if that was his game all along? What if he was just priming me so he could fuck me?
I hated the way my body reacted to the thought; the way heat pooled in places there shouldn’t be heat at fifteen years old. I hated the images of being under him, of him rolling on that condom I just found.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and threw open the door. Rain pelted the right side of my body. It was so cold that it stung, but that didn’t stop me from grabbing my bag and dashing out into the terrible weather even as Emmet yelled my name.
I only got a few yards before Emmet’s arms were around me as he tried to drag me back to the car. My backpack dropped to the ground with a splash as I struggled against him and tried to pry his arms apart, but it was pointless. He carried me kicking and screaming back to the car. As he struggled to open the door with one hand and his other arm around me, I elbowed him hard in the gut. His hold on me loosened and I managed to make it a couple of steps before he spun me around and crushed me against the car.
“I’m not letting you walk home tonight,” he growled in my face. “We can fight all night if you want, but I’m not letting you go.”
I stilled under him. He was too close. Pressed up against me, and I was pressed up against the car. There was no give anywhere.
We were both breathing heavily from the struggle. Our breaths were foggy against the rainy night. His hand was on my face. I shook my head to make him move his hand. He growled low in his throat and grabbed my head with both hands and held me still.
“It was a mistake,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t like her like that.”
“You liked her enough to put your dick in her,” I snarled and was surprised by my own ferocious words.
Emmet’s expression darkened. “You told me you weren’t ready.”
“I’m obviously still not ready because I’m definitely not ready for condoms in the glove compartment and screwing on dirty couches in damp, musky basements.”
“First of all, I would never do that to you. You deserve better than getting screwed on a dirty couch in a musky basement. Secondly, I have enough self-restraint not to try to fuck you anyway. Third, you said you weren’t ready, Donya. You don’t want to be with me, but you don’t expect me to be with anyone else.”
“So, it’s my fault you can’t keep your dick in your pants?” I asked coolly.
“No,” he snapped. “It’s your fault you’re hurt that I didn’t keep my dick in my pants. You made your decision. I’m beginning to believe you were right. You’re just a clueless kid. You wouldn’t know what to do with me if you had me. You’ll be better off dating someone your age, someone at your maturity level.”
I cringed at his words. I felt my mouth hanging open. Damn that hurt. That hurt a lot. I felt like slapping him, but then…I am the one who told him I was too young and dumb. I all but proved it by running out of the car when the condom fell on my lap.
He stretched his right arm and pulled the door open.
“Get in the damn car.”
I got in the car. He slammed my door, retrieved my backpack and then got into the car. The pack was carelessly thrown onto my lap. He gave me a dark look, threw the car in reverse and sped out of the parking lot. His anger was clearly affecting his driving. I probably would have been safer walking.
The car was still moving when I threw open the door in front of my house. I heard Emmet’s exasperation behind me as he slammed on the brakes. I slammed the car door and ran to my front my door. I had barely pushed the door open before Emmet’s tires peeled on the wet ground. I turned around just in time to watch him take off like a bat out of hell.
Chapter Seven
I eased into the house as quietly as possible. I quickly punched in the code for the alarm system before it woke up the whole family. When I turned around in the dark foyer, he was standing there in a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt that outlined is budding man muscles. I couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but I could feel his mood. He was angry, he was sad, he was regretful and he was confused. I felt another emotion radiating off of him that I could not name then at the tender age of fifteen, but I am able to name it now: lust.
I was soaked to the bone. My coat and knit hat did nothing to protect me from the cold rain. I shivered violently and my teeth clattered so hard it hurt my jaw.
Without any words, Emmet took my hand and silently led me upstairs to his bedroom. Once the door closed, he flipped on a light and moved past me while looking at me intently. He quickly rooted through his drawers and produced a pair of sweat pants, a sweatshirt, and a pair of socks. He put them on the bed and passed me the towel that hung on the back of his door. His gaze moved over my body from head to toe and back up to my eyes before he slipped out of the bedroom.
I stood there staring at the door. It was like he knew I was coming. Did he feel that slack in the tether as I hurried up the driveway? I did.
For hours after Emmet sped away from my house, I tried to ease the ache in my chest. I didn’t like feeling like everything about us was ruined because I got jealous when I had no right to be. If he never put his lips on mine again I could deal with that. What I could not deal with was losing him as I always had him, my friend, my something-like-a-brother-but-not. I was the one that told him I wasn’t ready and I really shouldn’t have expected him to hang around waiting for me. On the surface I didn’t expect it, but I guess a part of me did and I was rather ashamed of that part of me. It was selfish.
When two a.m. rolled around and I was still sitting in my room staring out at the dark and rainy street, I got up, got dressed, and snuck out into the night. I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t want to fight with Emmet.
I took off my wet coat and hung it over the back of a chair. I put my shoes by the heater and then peeled out of my drenched clothes. I picked up his towel and pressed it to my nose. It smelled like Emmet – clean, fresh, and whatever it was his body naturally produced that perfumed his skin. I used the towel to dry my hair and body and hung it back up. I started to pull on the clothes he left for me. I was just pulling the sweatshirt down over my stomach when Emmet quietly re-entered the room. He handed me the hairbrush I kept in Emmy’s room. I knew he had to sneak in there to get it. I don’t think either of us wanted to wake her or anyone else in the house.
“Thank you,” I whispered, taking it from him.
I walked over to his mirror and brushed my wet hair back and used the emergency scrunchy that I kept on the brush handle to pull my hair into a ponytail. I was going to hate my hair later in the day. I put the brush down on his bureau and turned around to face him. He had pulled back the covers on his bed while I brushed my hair. I looked at him with fear that threatened to choke me. He stood on the other side of the bed watching me.
“Just sleep,” he spoke for the first time since I arrived.
“I didn’t come here to sleep,” I said and swallowed hard. “I just…I don’t want to fight with you, Emmet.”
“So, stop fighting with me, Donya, and get into the bed.”
Without waiting for a response, he locked the door and turned the light off. The room was dark, but I heard the bedclothes rustling as he got into his queen size bed. I hesitated in the dark.
I should demand him to turn the light back on. I should put my wet shoes and coat back on and leave. I should go sleep in Emmy’s room.
I stepped forward and slipped into Emmet’s bed, and into Emmet’s waiting, open arms.
His body was strong against mine. His arms caged me securely as I rested my head on his chest. His skin was hot, but I was cold. I snuggled closer to him in an effort to warm my own skin with his. His scent soothes and the sound of his heart beating is like a lullaby. The tether between us feels comfortable, not stretched or twisted.
I sleep in a peaceful rest that I had never known before.
*~*~*
I tried to shake my head of those thoughts and carefully attempted to extract myself from Emmet’s arms. He groaned and held me tighter and then rubbed that thing against my thigh. It made me nervous. I couldn’t fathom how girls at my age took the leap and lost their virginity when faced with the possibility of something that size and that hard going into them.
Goosebumps rose up and down my arms and my pulse was erratic. I squeezed my thighs together in an attempt to release some of the pressure I felt.
Oh, my god! I have to get out of this bed!
In a bit of a panic, I tried harder to get out of his impossibly tight embrace. Emmet shifted, yawned, and opened his eyes.
“What are you doing?” he questioned me and looked at me through droopy, sleepy eyes.
“Trying to get up,” I said with frustration.
“Why would you want to do that?” His smile was like a warm blanket clinging to my skin. Why would I want to leave the comfort of a warm, skin clinging blanket? That would be stupid. It was cold out there.
I shook my head. I needed to get away from Emmet so I could think clearly.
“So I can pee?” I asked instead of telling.
“You have to pay the toll if you want the gates to open.”
“Are you a troll?”
He laughed softly. “Do I look like a troll?”
My eyes traced over his face. No, he did not look like a troll. Definitely not.
“What’s the toll?” I asked instead of answering his question. “I’m sure I have some spare change in my jeans.”
“I don’t want your money,” he said. He was looking at my mouth.
“I don’t think I have…” my voice was faltering because I was looking at his mouth. “…any gold or whatever trolls collect.”
“You know what the toll is,” he whispered, as his head dipped closer to mine. “So pay it.”
“But I thought we were just sleeping!” I blurted it out before his lips could touch mine.
“We slept. New agenda.”
I had no further opportunity to object because Emmet’s tongue was in my mouth and his lips were massaging my lips and I was kissing him back. I knew I shouldn’t have been kissing him in his bed but I couldn’t make myself stop. Kissing Emmet was exactly how I always thought it should be like to kiss a boy – sweet and full of emotion. I felt connected to him on levels my young mind was yet to comprehend. The tether hummed with pleasure between us, as if it had a mind of its own and we made it happy when we connected like this.
When we first started kissing, Emmet was beside me. We shifted without me paying it any mind until I felt him on me. There.
I tried to gasp, but my mouth was consumed by Emmet’s. I opened my eyes and saw my arms wrapped around his neck. When did that happen? He was on top of me. When did that happen? And he was hard against me, where no one has ever touched me before.
I started to pull away from the kiss. My hands were on his shoulders to push him away. Then he shifted again and stars burst into light behind my eyelids because my eyes had closed on their own accord. I moaned into Emmet’s mouth at the same time he moaned into mine. My arms were wrapped around him again and I kissed him harder, or maybe he kissed me harder. We were kissing harder. He rocked against me again and I couldn’t help myself. I pushed my hips up against him. I needed to get rid of this pressure between my legs. He pushed back and I shamelessly groaned and pulled his hair. I wrapped my legs around his waist and raised my hips off of the bed again to meet his next thrust. We moved against each other fluidly, in perfect synchronization.
I need to…I need to…I have to…
I clung to Emmet and tightened my legs around his waist. He pressed harder and the pressure built and built and I felt like I was going to explode. I wondered if this is what this was like? Explosions? Would I explode into a thousand pieces and scatter into the universe? I didn’t care how many pieces I was in. I needed it.
Someone banged on the door. Our lips separated with a soft, moist sound and our movements froze. We both looked towards the door.
“Emmet,” Sam’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.
Fear gripped my heart. If Sam caught me in Emmet’s bed especially with Emmet on top of me, she would flip. I mean flip.
“Yeah, mom?” he said as he struggled to catch his breath.
I unraveled my legs from his waist and let my arms fall away from him, but he didn’t pull away. He was still pressed against me and he caged me with his arms.
“Are you going to make me talk through the damn door?” Sam snapped.
Emmet hung his head and growled in frustration. He pecked me on the lips and got up, pulling me up with him. He opened the closet door and I stepped inside. I almost laughed at the absurdity of this. I grew up in this house. Sam was just as much a mother to me as my real mother, maybe more so, but I had to hide in the closet.
I covered my mouth to keep from laughing.
“What do you want?” Emmet asked Sam as I heard the door opening. He didn’t bother trying to hide his aggravation.
“Your daddy and I are going to Newport for an anniversary party. Did you forget?”
“No, I didn’t forget, mom.”
“We’ll be back Monday morning. We’re dropping your sister off at Mayson’s on our way but you hafta pick her up tomorrow night. Don’t forget.”
“Okay,” he said impatiently. “Anything else?”
“Why are you trying to get rid of me? Do you have a girl in here again?”
Again?
“Mom! There’s no one in here. What else do you want? I want to go back to bed.”
“No parties and no sex.”
I blushed and covered my mouth.
“Can I party and have sex somewhere else?” Emmet asked dryly.
I heard Sam’s slap to his head. “Don’t be cheeky.”
“Anything else?” Emmet asked with a little more patience.
“Don’t forget to take care of the garage like your daddy told you.”
“Okay.”
“Hug your mama, child.”
I heard slight movement from the door and I heard Emmy talking in the hallway.
“If Donya comes over tell her I took her boots.”
I put a hand on my hip. I saved up long and hard for those boots. My parents couldn’t afford things like Emmy’s parents, and though Fred and Sam treated me like their own, I tried not to take advantage. I would have never asked them for two hundred dollar boots. I was tempted to go out there and steal my boots back from Emmy and hit her with them.
The commotion in the hallway faded as Emmy and Sam went down the stairs. I heard Emmet out in the hallway, probably standing at the top of the stairs as he spoke to them. A couple of minutes later the front door slammed and a few seconds after that Emmet’s door closed. I pushed out of the closet, tripped over the length of Emmet’s sweat pants, and nearly fell on my face. I pulled at the pants to uncover my feet.
“I can’t believe she took my boots,” I murmured.
I stood on one side of the rumpled bed and Emmet on the other. We looked at one another. I tried not to show how horrified I was by what almost happened in that rumpled bed. It scared me how far I let myself go. How much further would I have gone? Would we have been joined together in the most intimate way? The thought scared the crap out of me.
I tore my gaze away from Emmet and looked at my wet clothes hanging on the chair. I was lucky Sam didn’t venture further into the room and see them there. I was glad I kept a
whole wardrobe in Em’s room.
I walked over to the chair and gathered up my wet clothes. I knelt down and picked up my wet sneakers. Emmet watched me with apprehension.
“What are you doing?” he asked quietly.
“I’m going to change into my own clothes and go home,” I answered.
He stepped in front of the door. I stopped a couple of feet away.
“You are home,” he said.
“My other home.”
“I don’t want you to leave. Stay here. Spend the day with me, just the two of us.”
He looked so hopeful that it made my heart ache.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
“Why can’t you, Donya?”
I gestured to the bed. “That scares the shit out of me,” I admitted forcefully. I wasn’t sure if I should admit the next part, but I didn’t think Emmet would take advantage of my confession. “If your mom hadn’t come to the door, I’m not sure where I would have stopped – if I would have stopped.”
“I know you’re not ready to go all the way. I wouldn’t have -”
“Emmet!” I shouted his name in frustration. “You were no more in control than I was. You probably didn’t think you’d grind with me like that either.”
He let out an exasperated growl, put his hands on his hips and looked down at the floor for a moment. When he looked back up at me, I knew that I had been right. He hadn’t expected to kiss me, let alone push me towards my first ever orgasm.
“We’ll stay away from the bedroom,” he suggested.
“Well we both know that you have nothing against couches,” I said and instantly regretted it. He looked hurt by my words and I didn’t mean to hurt him. “I’m sorry,” I said gently.
He took a breath and some of the pain cleared from his face and he once again looked hopeful.
“I just want to spend the day with you,” he said softly.
I shook my head slowly. “I don’t trust myself, Emmet. Move away from the door so I can leave.”
He stared at me for a few long moments before he finally stepped aside and opened the door for me. I rushed past him and into Emmy’s room and locked the door behind me.
