“I get it now,” she says, covering her ears. I shake my head and pretend that I’m hurt. I’m not, but it’s fun to play. It’s refreshing to be free and not have any demands on me right now.
“I’m surprised you aren’t required to take voice lessons. I mean, you can sing, but I see what you mean. You sound nothing like the guy I listen to.”
“I like that you listen. Do you watch our videos?”
She turns and looks at me. “I feel creepy telling you this—you might think I’m a crazy fan.”
“I’m sort of hoping that you are. Do you like the videos?”
She nods. “It’s the way you move your hips and look at the camera.”
“Like this?” I ask as I try to gyrate with her on my lap. It’s not easy and the solid ground is unforgiving, but I think she gets the picture.
She looks at me again, but this time it’s different. This time the tension in the air is thicker and everything around us has stilled. Her fingers lock with mine and press against the strings of the guitar. Our chests inhale and exhale in unison as our breathing becomes the focal point around us. And when she licks her lips, I know I’m the one who is going to make the move.
“You’re so beautiful,” I say as I press my lips against the side of her neck. She tenses briefly but doesn’t ask me to stop or push me away, so I keep moving my lips along her skin, placing small kisses up her neck and behind her ear.
My hand pulls the guitar away from her and sets it on the ground. She turns in my lap, letting me capture her lips with mine. This time she doesn’t allow me to tease her lower lip, as her tongue seeks mine out before I’m even ready. Somehow I have stealth-like moves and am able to lay us on the ground with Kimberly cradled in my arms and our legs tangled as our hands hold and caress each other.
I nip at her lip and am rewarded with a hiss. Her sweet sound encourages me, teases me. Kimberly is aggressive with her lips, hungry. She acts like she can’t get enough, and that scares me. I pull away and place openmouthed kisses along her cheek, stopping to nibble on her ear before moving down her neck and back to her mouth, where I take over. I slow things down and kiss her deeply while my hand holds her face.
We adjust so I’m hovering over her. It’d be so easy to just rip our clothes off and pleasure ourselves, but I don’t want to cheapen the way I feel about her.
“You’re so beautiful,” I tell her again in between kisses.
“You are too, with your pouty lips always looking like James Dean and your perfect blue eyes.” She pulls me down for another kiss, not giving me much time to bask in the major compliment she just gave me.
This is how we stay until we hear the call for dinner. And only then do we stop kissing. I can’t remember a time when I made out with a girl without trying to feel her up or have her suck my dick. It’s not that I don’t want to do that with Kim; I do, but not here. There’s a better time and place for us to be alone, and when that happens I won’t be a patient. I’ll be clean and sober, someone she can be proud of.
Eleven
Bodhi
I used coke to get high, to feel like I was invincible and could do anything. I snorted because I thought no one, including myself, cared about how I was ruining my life. I wasn’t going to be that person—the one who got addicted. I told myself I could stop at any time, that what I was doing was only for recreational purposes and not a matter of survival. I loved the way I felt when the powder invaded my bloodstream. I basked in the euphoria. Coke was my friend, and friends don’t hurt each other.
I was wrong.
After my first line, I craved more. I loved the high so much that I never wanted to come down. The first time with Aspen was enough to start my downfall. I like to think that if she wasn’t around I would’ve stopped, but the candy was readily available. I didn’t have to ask; she just knew. I don’t want to call her a dealer, but she was. I also don’t like referring to her as someone who fed me the drugs, because I had free will, but if she hadn’t been there, I don’t know if I’d be here now.
But I am, and now I have a new drug, one that goes by the name of Kimberly Gordon.
I can see why addiction is such a strong feeling. When you physically crave or desire an object, there isn’t anything that is going to stand in your way, and that is how I feel about Kimberly. The other night, in the woods, was a turning point. At least for me it was. That night by the pond I put myself out there, only to be told I’m a risk. I know I am. I’m an addict, and there is always the threat of a relapse; in my world, the threat is even greater. Who in their right mind would want to be involved with me?
After each therapy session I question whether I’m good enough for Kim. I’m reminded almost daily of the triggers that exist and how I’m going to cope with them. Deep down I’m aware I can’t use Kim as a coping mechanism, but she can help. Knowing she’s in my corner or that at a certain time I’m going to see her is a relief. It’s the unknown that scares me. What if I leave here and never see her again?
No, that can’t happen. Not after everything we’ve shared. And not after she kissed me again. She didn’t ask me to stop or pull away even though we could’ve been caught by anyone out for a walk. Kimberly let me hold her, caress her. She didn’t tell me I was wrong for feeling this way. I’m going to keep on thinking she feels the same until she tells me otherwise.
I think about how someone like her should be happy, and I wonder if I’m the one to do that for her. On paper it looks like I have my shit together. Yes, Virtuous Paradox is a success, but if I’m not careful, I could lose my spot with the group. I firmly believe that even though I have a trust fund that sets me up for life, she needs something better. Physically the only thing I have going for me is my looks, which won’t get me very far if I’m not careful.
As luck would have it, I see on the chore list that I’m assigned to Kim’s office today. When I arrive, she’s not at her desk. I don’t let that bother me, since it’s happened before, but this is the first time I’ve really had a chance to see her since the other afternoon. I can’t put into words how I felt with her on my lap, teaching me how to play the guitar.
I’m dusting her cabinets when she walks in. I hear her behind me but act like I’m enthralled by the job I’m doing. Not turning around to see her is painful, but I’m thinking that I can play a little hard to get. I have to bite the inside of my cheek when I hear her huff.
“Excuse me, Bodhi. I need help getting a box down.”
I set the feather duster down and turn to see her walking away from me. Okay, maybe ignoring her wasn’t the best idea. I follow her to a closet, which she opens.
“It’s that one,” she says, pointing into the closet.
As I move past her, I see that her eyes are focused on the box. Either she’s pissed or she’s playing coy because she’s at work. I’m going with the coy angle because she has to know I was only teasing; if she doesn’t, I’ll be sure to show her later.
I step into the closet, but suddenly I hear the door click shut behind me and I’m plunged into darkness. Her arms are around my waist before I can even turn around to find out what’s going on. My heart starts to race with anticipation as I slowly turn in her arms. Without any light, I have to let my other senses do the work, with my favorite being touch.
“I shouldn’t be in here with you,” she whispers.
“Why are you, then?” I ask, letting my fingers trail down the side of her face.
“Because I can’t stay away from you. It’s morally wrong and I could lose my job, but you’re not just any patient.”
“You’re right, I’m not,” I say against her neck.
“Bodhi?”
God, I love the way my name sounds when she says it. It’s something I want to hear every day for the rest of my life. I don’t care if I’m too young to make a life-altering decision like this. I know she’s the one.
“Kimberly?”
“Kiss me. Kiss me like you’re never going to see me again. Kiss me like I’m the
last woman alive. Kiss me like I’m your salvation.”
“With pleasure.”
Her hands ghost up my shirt until her fingers are brushing along my neck. The way my skin pebbles causes my eyes to close. Kimberly trails her nails along my cheek until she’s outlining my lower lip and pulling me down gently to meet my lips with hers. The moment our tongues touch, she’s gripping the fabric of my shirt. My fingers spread into her hair so I can hold her to me, needing to feel her pressed against my body. Her hands roam, first over my pecs, then down to my abs; when she slips her hand under my shirt, my skin becomes electrified.
I want to touch her, feel her bare flesh against the pads of my fingers. My hand roams to her neck, over her shoulder, down her arm, and across her back until I have the courage to cup her breast in my hand. She moans in my mouth when I touch her, and I push into her, letting her know that I want her. Her hand rests against my ass as she grinds into me. I move my lips to her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses along her skin and over her shirt until my mouth is at her breast. I cup both breasts, massaging them in my hands, until she places her hands on my top of mine, stopping me.
“Sorry,” I tell her. The last thing I want to do is hurt her.
Kimberly doesn’t say anything, but guides my hands under her shirt until the tips of my fingers are touching her bra. I risk sliding a finger under the bottom, flesh on flesh, waiting to see what she says. Her hand brushes against my crotch, and I jerk, because I didn’t expect her to touch me.
And since I’m all about taking risks with her, I reluctantly take one hand away from her chest and undo my pants, letting her have whatever freedom she wants. She slides her hand into my boxer briefs and touches my hard-on. When her fingers run up and down my shaft I lose all sense and just about come in my pants.
“Fuck, Kimberly,” I say as I lift her shirt over her head and pull down the cups of her bra so I can taste her. God, how I want to see her right now, but if this is how she needs to do things, I’m game. I step to the side so she can still touch me and I can suck on her breast. My tongue flicks her nipple just as she pulls my dick out of my pants and starts stroking.
Kim straddles my leg and starts moving, looking for friction. I pull her skirt up over her hips to help her. The crotch of her panties is wet. I move it aside and give her two fingers. She cries out, digging her nails into my back.
“You’re so hard,” she says, running her hand up and down my shaft.
“You do this to me, baby.”
“Show me.”
I pause, but only briefly, then lift her up. She wraps her legs around my waist. The tip of my dick touches her core and fucking jumps into action. I brace myself against the wall and slide into her as she bites down on my shoulder.
“Your pussy is so fucking perfect,” I tell her as I thrust into her. She moans, taking every inch of my dick deep into her. “Shh,” I remind her.
She bites down on my lip, whimpering as I grab her ass and use her legs to help me pound into her. I cover her mouth with mine to keep her quiet. Anyone could open the closet and catch us, and as little as I care about what might happen to me, I do care about her and what could happen to her.
Kimberly starts moving against me, letting me know she’s close. I slide my hand in between us and press down on her clit to help her get her orgasm.
“Holy fuck,” I say as her walls pulse around my dick. “That’s the best feeling ever.” I stay still, relishing the feeling.
“Don’t fucking stop,” she says, digging her heels into my ass. I do as she says and am met with the most explosive rush of warmth I have ever experienced.
A loud bang outside stops us. Our hearts are pounding so loud we can’t hear what’s going on outside the closet. In an instant I’m soft, limp, and falling out of her. This is embarrassing, going limp before I can finish. I never thought I’d be in a situation like this, and definitely not with her. The only thing I can do to save face is let her down gently, kissing her neck, as I act like it’s no big deal that I lost my erection.
We search for her shirt, and after she dresses, I pull her to me and hold her, kissing her softly.
“I only have a week left,” I whisper into her hair, which smells like coconut, the beach, and summer—three of my favorite things.
“I know.”
“I can’t leave unless I know I’ll see you outside here.”
“You can’t stay here, Bodhi. You have a life.”
“And I want to try it out with you,” I say, kissing her quiet.
Twelve
Kimberly
As soon as we emerge from the closet, I rush off to my apartment, leaving Bodhi in my office. Unfortunately, by leaving that way I’ve shown him where I live, and that was something I wanted to avoid. It’s not that I didn’t want him to know; I just didn’t want him to be tempted to seek me out when he should be resting. It’s been hard enough knowing that he’s lying in a bed alone not far from me. I’ve caught myself many times walking down the hall where his room is, only to pause. I know he would’ve welcomed me with open arms.
I stare at myself in the mirror. The freshly fucked look is evident, and even though he didn’t touch my hair, it’s a mess. Running a brush through my hair, I pull it up in a ponytail and straighten my clothes, fixing my skewed panties.
I don’t know what I was thinking, letting that happen, and as I stand here considering the ramifications, I know I’m in trouble. What if he hasn’t been safe in the past? I don’t want to think negatively about Bodhi, but the truth of the matter is, he’s an addict and addicts use sex to score. The thought makes me lose the contents of my stomach.
“Kimberly?” His voice is full of worry and his hand soft along my back as I kneel in the bathroom.
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
“I know, but I wanted to check on you.”
“I’m fine, Bodhi.”
He leaves my side, but only to run the water and hand me a wet washcloth. As much as I don’t want to take it, I do.
“Thank you.” I flush the toilet and stand up. There’s a pained look on his face. I did that to him when I ran out on him. We just had sex because I asked him, and now I wouldn’t be surprised if he thinks I’m repulsed by him.
“Without sounding like a pussy, did I hurt you?”
I shake my head and work quickly to brush my teeth.
“Then what’s wrong?”
I rest my hands on the counter and fight the tears that are coming. I don’t want to cry in front of him, but they’re coming whether I like it or not.
“We just had sex without a condom,” I say bluntly.
“Okay, well, I didn’t come, so if it’s because you’re not on the pill—”
“Don’t be naive, Bodhi. You can get a woman pregnant without actually ejaculating. But that’s not it. You’re an addict and I don’t know if you’re clean.”
He steps back at my insult, and I immediately regret what I’ve just said. I try to reach for him, but he puts his hands up. “I get it,” he says. “No need to explain on my behalf.” He turns away. I call for him, but he doesn’t return. The slamming of my door startles me, and a second later I break down and cry.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
I don’t see Bodhi later at dinner, and when I go to look for him, he’s in his room. I open the door and peek in to find him lying on his bed, facing the wall.
“Bodhi?”
He doesn’t answer me.
“You need to come to dinner,” I say as I step into his room. I sit in the chair by his bed and fight the urge to reach out and touch him.
When I get no response, I say, “You really need to get up and come to dinner. There are rules. . . .” This gets Bodhi to roll over. He looks at me, his eyes red-rimmed, and I can tell he’s been crying.
“Fuck the rules. If I wanted to eat, I would. Get out, Kimberly.” He turns back toward the wall, ignoring me.
I leave quietly, trying to figure out how to fix the mess I’ve c
reated. It’s not going to be easy, but it needs to be done, because I can’t let my foolish and selfish actions hamper his recovery. I make my way to the cafeteria and fix us both plates of food. If I get caught, there’s no doubt I’ll lose my job, but I don’t care. I did that to him even though I knew better, and I need to make it right.
I return to his room with the food. When I enter, he’s in the same spot he was in when I left.
“I brought you dinner and you’re going to eat.”
“Go away.”
“No.” I climb up onto his bed and squeeze myself between the wall and his body. He closes his eyes, unwilling to look at me.
“I’m sorry for what I said. I panicked because we didn’t use any protection.” I whisper the words, fearful that someone may overhear us. “I’ve seen so much damage while working here, and all the negativity just swarmed over me and I blocked out the good stuff, like how you make me feel and how when I’m with you I forget that I’m supposed to be the responsible one and ward off your advances, but I’m often the one coming on to you. But I realized as soon as you walked out that you wouldn’t do something that might hurt me, would you, Bodhi?”
That question gets him to open his eyes and finally look at me.
“I would never do anything to hurt you, Kimberly.”
“I know, but my mind and heart weren’t communicating, and I spoke the words before I knew what I was saying.” I close the gap and kiss him softly on the lips. “I fear that I’m not good for you, Bodhi. This is the last thing you needed.”
“What I need is you,” he says. He pulls me closer to him. We stay like this for a few minutes until my tummy rumbles.
Blow Page 9
