by Skyla Madi
“You don’t have to let me go.” She says, chuckling. “Just don’t suffocate me.”
I kiss the tip of her nose and close my eyes. Alcohol swirls in my empty stomach, burning like acid. I can’t remember the last time I drank and didn’t pass out. I usually hit it until I’m curled up by the toilet bowl and don’t resurface for days.
It feels good to reign it in. It feels good to be here...to be wanted.
I don’t know how much time passes before she falls asleep in my arms, her forehead pressing against my chin. Her body is heavy against mine, moving against me with every breath. My eyes are heavy and my head is dizzy. I’m tired, but I can’t sleep because of the ball of anxiety in my chest. This is real.
What I’m feeling right now is real. I was wrong about redemption…maybe it is possible. For the first time ever, I desperately want it to be. Why? I guess I’m still trying to figure that one out.
I read on the internet that it can take as little as four minutes to fall in love. Four. In four minutes a special someone can change the trajectory of your life. Is that what’s happening here? Am I going through some emotional change because of her?
Because my mind and my body thinks I’m in love?
…am I?
I shift on the bed, rolling my shoulders and curving my back. My eyes flutter open and I squint into my dimly lit room. Outside, the sun drags itself into the sky, coating everything in a dull, light. Soon, it will be morning.
Actual morning. Ugh.
Groaning, I roll onto my stomach and close my eyes, hoping to doze back to sleep. Unfortunately, my full bladder has other plans. I blow air out of my nose and kick off the blankets. My eyes remain shut and to open them is painful. It’s like my lids are desperately trying to hold up heavy slabs of concrete. Despite that, I push myself to my feet and turn toward the bathroom.
“It’s morning already?” Caleb groans, making me jump.
My eyes shoot open and I press my palm to my chest, feeling my racing heart as it pounds just underneath the surface. Right. There’s a half-naked guy in my bed and his body is insane. Gina, my friend back in Bismarck would freak the fuck out if she knew about this.
I forgot he was here. He sleeps to one side, in his own little bubble. I woke up completely oblivious to his presence. Cautiously, I glance down. Oh. Will you look at that? I still have my underwear on. It’s a miracle.
“Uh…” I blink away the tiredness that dances along my eyelids, trying to lull me back to sleep. “Kind of…”
“I have a killer headache.” He groans, pushing himself into a sitting position as he rubs his forehead.
Caleb’s hair is in disarray—more so than usual—and will someone tell me how the hell he makes sleepiness look so damn sexy? He drags his hands down his face and onto his chest. Yawning, he scratches a smooth portion of skin below his belly button before slipping his hand underneath his waistband. I laugh under my breath at the sight before me. Classy.
“My mouth tastes like ass.” He adds, grimacing.
“There’s aspirin and mouthwash in the bathroom.” I whisper with a smile. “Help yourself.”
I stroll across the room, rubbing sleep from my eyes when I feel him right behind me. I stop as I reach for the handle, its metal surface cool against my palm, and glance over my shoulder. Caleb quirks a brow at me.
“Are you going?” He asks.
“I need to pee.”
His eyebrows pull together, confused. “Okay…?”
Is he serious right now? He really doesn’t see anything wrong with this scenario? With him being in the same room while I use the toilet?
“Alone. I don’t want you in there watching me while I do it.”
He shrugs. “So look at the floor or something.”
Look at the floor? He’s kidding…? Caleb doesn’t blink. Okay. So maybe he’s not kidding. Shaking my head, I open the door and slip inside, leaving no room for him to follow me. I almost shut it behind me, leaving a crack small for me to peer through.
“Stay.” I tell him. “You can come in after I use the toilet.”
Sighing, he folds his strong arms across his chest and leans against the door frame. “Fine.”
I close the door and wait a few seconds, expecting him to kick it down.
He doesn’t.
I think it’s the first time he has respected my privacy. I thought I was going to have to lock the door, but will you look at that? His ears are functional and not painted on just for looks.
I use the toilet, ignoring Caleb’s “This is pointless. I can still hear you” comments while I do my business.
Finishing up, I amble over to the sink and wash my hands. The second he hears the sink, he opens the door, flicks on the light, and steps inside.
“Here.” I say, opening my bathroom cabinet. I retrieve the aspirin and the bottle of mouthwash. “Take this and then you have to go.”
I pop the lid on the headache pills and set the mouthwash on the basin.
“What time do your parents wake up?”
Caleb holds out his hand, expecting me to pour the pills into his palm. I peer up at him. Who does he think I am? His mother? I open my mouth to relay the comment, then decide against it, for obvious reasons.
I shrug, tipping the bottle over his palm. I tap the rim and two small, white pills fall out. “In a few hours.”
He slaps his palm against his mouth, shooting the pills into his mouth. I return the lid to the bottle as he twists the cold tap.
“How many? Two? Three?” He asks, bending low, cupping the water in his hands.
I slip the aspirin back into the cabinet. “Four.”
Caleb swallows mouthful after mouthful of warm tap water and when he’s done, he straightens his posture with a satisfied exhale. I bite back a smile as a rogue drop of water rolls down his chin.
“Good. So I have plenty of time to catch another two-three hours of sleep.”
Ha. Yeah. Right. “Not here.”
He laughs—and it’s a bit fucking loud for my liking. “Yes, Cassia. Here. With you.”
“No. Absolutely not. You’re already pushing it.”
His movements are calm and relaxed, like he has all the time in the world, as he grabs the mouthwash and removes its lid. I lean against the bench as he pours a mouthful of the minty liquid into his mouth and swishes it around. He spits it out and washes the sink, then clears his throat. Loudly.
I flinch forward. “Shush!”
“Lighten up.” He mutters, kissing my lower lip. “And come back to bed.”
With a smug grin, he saunters from the bathroom and I glare after him. Come back to bed? Does he want to get caught together?
I grab the mouthwash and pour some into my own mouth. I frown at myself in the mirror as I swish it around. My blonde hair is a mess, my eyes are heavy and my cheeks are puffy.
Come back to bed.
Fuuuck. I’ve never had such exciting words directed at me before and to be honest, I’m really struggling on a resolution here. Do I go back to bed? With Caleb? Or do I show him the door? The angel on my left shoulder fights with the demon on the right in an epic battle of good vs bad. I don’t realize until the minty mouthwash has burned the top layer off my tongue that my angel is an advocate for my parents. It preaches their beliefs:
Do not sleep with that boy.
Do not engage in sexual behavior.
Do not have fun.
Sinners don’t go to Heaven.
And my demon…well…I spit out the mouthwash and rinse my mouth with water. My demon tells me to do whatever makes me happy.
Sinners may go to Hell, but at least they’re having a good time getting there.
Blowing out an exhale, I rake my fingers through my messy hair, managing to make it look semi-decent. My blood burns under my flesh. How can I go back to sleep now? How can I leave this bathroom knowing what’s out there waiting for me? I don’t know what it is about Caleb that makes me feel so inadequate, but I can’t shake it. It’s part of the reason I sa
id when he asked if I wanted to be exclusive with him. How can I compete with him? How will I ever keep up? I’m not blind. I know I’m not an ugly girl, but I sure as shit don’t hold a candle to Caleb and his freakish good looks. Females will always make a play for him, taken or not, and since I’ve never really dealt with jealousy before…I don’t know how I’d react. If the bitter fire igniting in the pit of my stomach at the mere thought of another girl draping herself over him is anything to go off, I’ll say my reaction won’t be good.
I smooth my palm down my stomach and grip the hem of my loose tee in my hand. Maybe I should shower and clear my head. It’s not unusual for me to take showers this early so Mom and Dad shouldn’t even stir from their sleep and I do have work in six hours so it’s not totally unwarranted. I cross the room and close the bathroom door. I’d lock it if my parents didn’t have the fucking lock removed. Yep. They even took the lock of my bathroom door. A friend of theirs suggested they do it to prevent me from ‘ringing the devil’s doorbell’ which is ‘masturbation’ to normal people.
Strolling over to the shower, I pull open the glass door and reach for the taps. As I turn the handles, cold water shoots out of the circular shower head and I slip my hand into the stream. The jets of water turn from warm to hot and I step back, pulling my shirt over my head.
My heart beats in my chest and I peer at the door and wait. Will he come in? Do I want him to? Stupid question. Of course I want him to. I just wish it were under different circumstances.
I toss my shirt to the floor and push my underwear over my knees, kicking it to the side when it pools at my feet. Holding my breath, I pull my hair over one shoulder before stepping into the shower.
Hot water blasts my skin and it feels amazing, like it’s washing away ten years of dirt even though I had a shower when I got home from Bible study last night.
Before the billowing streams fully wet my body, the bathroom door opens and in slips the man of the hour. My stomach tightens itself into a little ball as he saunters over to the shower with indecent excitement glowing in his eyes.
I tip my head, not bothering to cover the most important parts of my body with my hands.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
Damp hair sticks to my forehead and against the back of my neck as thick steam settles on my skin. Caleb grabs the top of the shower and leans forward, the muscles in his arms tightening in the best way.
“I walked here. A shower will do me good.”
Quickly, the sharp lines of his physique become muted by heavy steam as it clings to the glass. I reach up and rub at it, clearing for a few seconds. Arousal seeps into my blood at the sight of his handsome face, flipping the switch to my common sense. I don’t know what he’s waiting for. Permission maybe? I bite my tongue. I know better.
Caleb interprets my silence as approval and casually pushes his pants down his legs. I keep my stare on his as he rounds the glass and grasps the door handle in his large hand. He holds an air of indifference as he opens the door and slips inside. I back up a step, my ass pressing slight against the cold tiles. Closing the door, Caleb slips into the stream, letting it hit the back of his neck and cascade over his shoulders. God. He even looks good when he showers.
“You’re not afraid of being caught, are you?” I ask, crossing my wrists at the apex of my thighs, shielding myself from him.
He catches it with his stare and his lips twitch at the corner, but he doesn’t allow it to spread into a full smile. He flicks his gaze back to mine.
“Afraid of being caught by your parents?”
I nod and he shakes his head with a chuckle. “I’m not afraid of your parents, Cassia. I could stroll down those stairs butt naked, you still slick on my skin, and join your father for breakfast without hesitation.”
I smile. “He’s a proud owner of a gun, you know.”
“He’s a devoted Catholic and he owns a gun? Oh, the hypocrisy”
“Hypocrisy?”
Caleb grabs the pink sponge that hangs on the handle of the cold tap and runs it under the water. “Thou shalt not kill.”
“Oh. Right.”
I’ve never thought of it like that.
I reach for the body wash that hangs upside down from a steel rack in the corner of the shower. Following my lead, Caleb holds the sponge underneath the bottle and I squeeze soap into its rough surface. All I can do is watch as he runs the soapy sponge down the front of his torso and then back up again. I compare watching him now to the times I watched him at church. I imagined him naked…but not like this. I never imagined him standing in my shower, cleaning his body. How can something so casual be such a damn turn on?
“And what about your father?”
He shakes his head, running the sponge behind his neck. “God is his gun.”
“I’m not asking if he owns a gun.” I squeeze body wash into my hand. “What will he say? If he found out about what we’re doing…if he found out about what we’ve done?”
Caleb shrugs his broad shoulders, dropping the sponge to his feet. “Forgiveness is his thing.”
I frown. Even he doesn’t sound so sure about that. I run my hands over my body, washing my tummy and the underside of my breasts. It isn’t until I slide my hands into my armpits I realize Caleb is staring at me. He slips out of the water, allowing me to step in. I flinch at the searing hot jets as they burn my shoulders. Cursing, Caleb eases the cold tap, cooling the water, making it bearable against my sensitive skin. Bunching my hair on top of my head so it doesn’t get wet, I ease into the stream, letting it wash the bubbles down the length of my body and into the drain. I close my eyes and pretend there isn’t a smoking hot playboy staring at me.
It’s harder to ignore when he slides his palm across my hip and over my abdomen. My lips part and my stomach cramps of its own accord. Pleasure swirls between my thighs and I’m certain the pound of my heart can be heard over the gush of water.
“You have a beautiful body.” He murmurs, his mouth close to my ear.
I open my eyes as he shifts in front of me and glides his hand his north, toward my breast. Caleb bends low and air is stolen from my lungs as he sucks my nipple into his mouth. I shiver and almost lose my balance as he teases it with his tongue, cupping the underside of my boob gently in his hand. I blink at him through heavy lids as he pulls back, leaving me tightly coiled and ridiculously aroused.
“Where do you keep your towels?” He asks with a casual smile.
“Towels?”
His face lights up in amusement, the green in his eyes almost luminescent under the bathroom lights. “The strips of fabric you use to dry your body.”
“Oh!” I shake my head. “They’re in the cupboard next to the sink”
Caleb exists the shower, taking his tall, beautiful body with him. It occurs to me as he retrieves a towel that I didn’t look at his penis or his leg scars.
Not once.
That alone is testament to the charm of his face and the allure of his torso. One small smirk and the casual brush of a hand over his striking chest is all it takes to flood me with arousal, to convince me to go for what I want no matter the consequences.
If only it were that simple…
* * * *
Back in bed, the damp tips of my hair are pressed against my back by the weight of Caleb’s torso. His arms are around me, his nose is buried into my hair as he rests his head against the back of mine. I feel weightless like this…I can’t think of another way to explain it. His knees bend with mine, our legs adjacent to each other until we entwine at the ankles. Tingles dance along my spine with every inhale he takes and fans into my chest on his exhales.
It’s perfect.
Caleb brought me a pair of underwear and a short, little nightgown to slip into when I got out of the shower. I called him out for going through my stuff, but I don’t think he listened to a word I said. He did express his disappointment when he didn’t find a vibrator in my underwear drawer though.
I re-entered my room a
fter I combed my hair and changed my clothes to find Caleb resting in my bed, his eyes closed, and one arm resting on the pillow above his head. It took a lot of muscle power to keep myself moving instead of standing there, staring like an idiot. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep and I knew there was no way I was going to be able to get him out of here, so I climbed back into bed with him. He woke to the mattress moving as I slipped underneath the blankets and he grabbed me tightly, pulling me into his strong arms.
Which brings me to now…
There’s a hard cock pressing into my ass and it’s too obvious to ignore. I’m not going to lie, my blood is on fire and there’s an unbearable pulse at the apex of my thighs that I just can’t shake.
My body knows what he can do to it and it wants him to do it now.
I swallow hard and shift forward, giving him more space. I tip my head back, pressing my palm to my stomach to help calm my nerves.
“Caleb?” I whisper, nudging his ankle with mine.
“Mm?”
“You’re poking me.”
A light smile touches his lips. “Ignore it. It will go away soon.”
Ignore it? How the hell am I supposed to ignore it? It’s like telling a crack addict to ignore the cocaine, water, and baking soda as it sizzles away on a spoon right in front of them.
Tucking my hands underneath my pillow, I close my eyes. I don’t know if I fall asleep or not. All I know is, when I open my eyes again, the sun is a little higher in the sky and I have a desperate need to fill my body with something. Caleb is still hard against me, but his grip on my body has loosened. I glance over my shoulder and he doesn’t make a peep. There is no twitch to his lips or a fluttering of his eyelids as I gaze at his face.
He’s asleep.
And so. Damn. Hard.
I inhale through my nose and quietly blow it out as I lie my head against my pillow and try to forget about the insatiable pulse between my legs. I’m wet, my panties are wet, and I can’t keep my head on straight.
I try to ignore it, but my entire body burns with a tension I can’t ease and it only gets worse when Caleb shifts, slinging his arm around my hip, and pulls my lower half harder against him. My chest rises and fall with air I can’t seem to hold in my lungs. At this rate, I’m going to need another shower.
