by DC Renee
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he repeated several times as he smoothed my hair. His touch was calming; his voice was soothing. I felt my tears start to dry up. He had been almost as bad as Zack at some point and a small part of me acknowledged that, yet he felt so different, so protective.
“How?” I asked. “How can I feel so scared yet so safe in your arms?”
He pulled away, but only far enough so he could reach up and cup my face in both his hands.
“You’re always safe with me, Paige. What I did … what I did to you.” He choked up. “That wasn’t me. I don’t know who that man was and nothing I can say or do will ever make up for it or take it back. I was so drunk, and I didn’t even understand what was going on. I just wanted revenge and then I wanted you, and then I wanted to hurt you the way I was hurting. It took me a while to understand that your cries weren’t of pleasure, but when I did, I stopped. I didn’t know how to face you, so I pretended to pass out. It was the coward’s way. I tried to apologize the next day, but it was too fresh. I should have tried to tell you how deeply sorry I am every chance I got, but I … I don’t know. I don’t have an excuse. But please, Paige, you have to understand that I’m not that man and I would never do that to you ever again. You’re safe with me. I promise you that.”
It was everything I wanted to hear and more. I had come to that conclusion on my own. Well, not all of that. I didn’t know he’d stopped himself from going further. That had been shocking, and comforting, and revolting, all at the same time. I had come to terms with the fact that regardless of why or how, I had forgiven him for it a long time ago. And I even understood that whatever his reasons were that night, he wasn’t like that. But I still needed that apology. I needed it even more than I realized I had. The tears came stronger and harder, everything falling into place.
I wanted him to kiss me, to look into my eyes as his lips inched toward mine. I wanted to forget all the bad memories, even his, and replace them with good ones. The way his eyes searched mine, the way he furrowed his brow as if he was in thought, the way his lips puckered, the way the sorrow, grief, and even hope flittered across his features was enough to drive me mad with want. I wanted him … no, I needed him. Kiss me, I willed. Kiss me, my mind whispered. He had said he was a coward, but at that moment, I was the coward. All I had to do was inch my face closer to his and our lips would graze, but I couldn’t do it. Kiss me¸ I tried to tell him once more with my thoughts, but he just looked at me. He was waiting for forgiveness.
“I know, Enzo. I know,” I finally told him. It wasn’t enough. He still held his breath, waiting for more. “I forgive you.”
“You do?”
“I’ve only ever wanted to hear an apology from you, but I already forgave you.” I didn’t bother hiding the truth.
He let my face go and pulled me back into a hug.
“Thank God,” he whispered, and I could physically feel his relief that his burden had been weighed, judged, and found light enough to let him still go to heaven. If he only knew that I wanted to be what was waiting for him on the other side.
He held me for a little longer then he made me tea, stayed outside the bathroom door while I got ready for bed, and then tucked me in.
“Call me if you need me,” he whispered before he closed the door softly behind him.
“Enzo,” I whispered so lightly I knew he wouldn’t hear. I always needed him; I just didn’t realize it fully until that moment.
*****
I tried to close my eyes and let sleep claim me so I could forget what my life had become and the emotions that overtook me. It didn’t work. I might have drifted off a few times, but I wasn’t even sure if that was true. One thing I was sure about was that I wanted Enzo. No, I needed him. I needed his arms around me to make me feel safe; I needed his touch to make me feel alive; I needed his lips to make me forget – I just needed him, period.
I almost got up from my bed several times to go to his room and climb into his bed, but I couldn’t do it. Aside from the fact that I didn’t want to be another woman in his bed, I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to be there for me. His words rang true that he wasn’t the person he was the night he assaulted me, and I doubted he truly meant what he said the following day, especially at this moment, but I still remembered. “Trust me, Paige, you’ll come to me, and you’ll beg,” he had said. I wasn’t going to beg him, even though I was truly tempted. I wasn’t going to go to him, especially if he was going to reject me. But I needed him. I really needed him, more than I even cared to admit, more than I ever thought possible. So I did something I wasn’t sure was going to work. I devised a plan that manipulated the situation. I hoped to pull at his heartstrings and draw on the compassion he had shown me before. I’d get him to come to me. I just needed to give him a reason to run to me, and I sincerely hoped my plan would work. So I closed my eyes and set it in motion.
Twenty Four
Enzo
It took me a while to fall asleep that night, and I was actually surprised that I had. My mind had been churning with the thoughts I didn’t want to acknowledge. The best way I could describe it was like this. When you first started running, your body ached, your muscles were sore, and you told yourself you were not cut out for exercise, but you continued on your path. Then one day, you realized running no longer winded you, and the cool wind across your damp brow was the most refreshing feeling in the world. Your entire body hummed from the exertion, and you recognized you were officially a runner. You didn’t know when it happened, but it was the best feeling in the world. That was Paige to me. She was my daily run.
It had been slow, with many hills and dips, and even a few sprained ankles along the way, but that night, I understood that I didn’t hate Paige. I wasn’t indifferent toward her; I wasn’t even just lusting after her. I liked her. I liked her too much for my own good.
When I saw the fear in her eyes after that guy had attacked her, I didn’t want to hurt him because he was assaulting a woman and it was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to hurt him because she was my wife and it was my job. I didn’t even want to hurt him because he was trying to take advantage of someone I knew. No, I wanted to kill him because she was mine. Mine. Not my property, not my wife, not my roommate, friend, family, or any other label. Just mine.
I wanted to wrap her in my arms and keep her there forever. I wanted to apologize for everything I had ever done to her. I wanted to wipe the tears from her cheeks and the pain from her eyes. I wanted so much with her that I didn’t have the capacity in my mind to list everything. I just wanted her. It took everything in me not to taste her.
I was a selfish asshole, a real bastard, a user and everything in between, but at that moment, I was her savior, and I didn’t even want to revert to any of those horrible things. I just wanted her to be okay. I needed her to be okay.
And that was why I couldn’t fall asleep. The realization that I cared about Paige more than I ever thought possible was overwhelming. It dawned on me that I had been feeling those things for quite a while, but I hadn’t comprehended that until something smacked me in the face.
It had to have been shortly after I dozed off, but I woke to noises.
“No, no,” I heard vaguely and then louder at first. I had heard whimpering and some more words before I realized it was coming from Paige’s room. I didn’t think before I jumped out of bed and ran to her.
I should have been worried about her reaction to me in her room at this time; I should have been worried about pouncing on her in the middle of what was probably a bad dream. I should have been worried about a million other things, but all I cared about was that Paige didn’t need to experience any more pain, even if it was in a dream.
She was thrashing about when I made it to her room and her voice was on the verge of screaming as she chanted, “No.”
“Paige, shhh, it’s okay.” I ran my hand down her arm to try to wake her slowly so as not to surprise her.
She popped her eyes ope
n and stared at me, not moving away, worry written in her eyes.
“You didn’t flinch,” I said out loud as it dawned on me. She looked at me as if she couldn’t understand what I was talking about. “You didn’t flinch earlier either,” I remembered.
“I don’t … I didn’t even realize …” She trailed off.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” I repeated, but I felt like a real ass to be smiling inside at the realization. I had been waiting for that for as long as I could remember even if I didn’t fully know that was what I had been doing.
“Oh God, Enzo,” she cried as she launched herself into my arms. It took a moment for everything to sink in, and then I wrapped my arms around her.
“I’m so sorry, Paige. I’m so sorry for everything. You don’t deserve any of this, anything that you’ve lived through. You’re so strong and capable, and you should know how amazing you are.”
“I … I don’t … I can’t,” she stuttered.
I pulled away so I could look into her eyes. “Don’t let this night or any other night define who you are. Don’t let this confine you. Push it away.”
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“You can and you will because you’re better than this. You’re better than me.” I wanted to brush her lips with mine; I wanted to show her just how much better I thought she was by worshipping her body, but I wasn’t going to take advantage of her, not again, not ever. The night I had assaulted her had been the lowest night of my life. I had blamed Paige because I couldn’t blame my dad. I had wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me. Yet I wanted her in a way I couldn’t understand. I drank and drank; I drank too much, and my thoughts jumbled. I didn’t distinguish yes and no. I couldn’t hear her pleas; my ears clogged with the thoughts pouring from my drunken, pissed-off brain. It was no excuse, and I’d live the rest of my life regretting my actions that night.
And my behavior after? I didn’t know how to excuse that either, except that even when I was sober, it was hard to differentiate the innocent girl I saw before me and my father’s evil sidekick I had imagined her as. When she pushed my buttons, all I saw was my father telling me I wasn’t good enough. I no longer saw her face, only his. And I wanted to harm him. Poor Paige got the brunt of that because I couldn’t stand up to my dad, so I stood up to her instead. Only standing up to her was being the aggressor instead of the defendant as I had pictured myself. It took a while to finally get that, and even when I understood, it was hard to step away from all that I already knew. I thanked God that Paige didn’t hold it against me, and although I knew I didn’t deserve it, I was selfish enough to take her forgiveness. But I wasn’t selfish enough to take advantage of her in this state.
“Help me.” Her quiet words took me out of my thoughts. I looked at her and realized my face was a hair’s breadth away from hers. I had moved toward her without even knowing I had.
“Help you?” I asked.
“Help me forget.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Please don’t make me beg, Enzo. Just help me forget.”
“I want you, Paige. God, I want you, but not like this. I won’t take advantage of you,” I told her sincerely and prayed that my will was as strong as my words.
She grabbed my face with both hands; the intensity in her look and in her words stunned me into silence. I was lost in her gaze as her words tried to penetrate my mind. “You’re not taking advantage of me. Neither one of us is drunk or impaired. I’m sober and of sound mind, and I want you.”
“I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow,” I responded, still lost in her eyes.
“I won’t regret this, ever. I want you, Enzo. I need you.”
And my will broke. My lips found hers, and I swear I felt a tingle through my entire body. Her lips were addicting. I wanted more. I needed more. I should have gone slowly, but my building desire was overtaking my body. I consumed her lips like I was Satan stealing her soul. They parted on a gasp, and my tongue sought out hers. Her hands found their way around my neck and she dug her fingers into my hair. I was gone.
I laid her back and found a way to restrain myself as I worked my mouth to her neck. My hands caressed her nightgown-clad sides until I found the hem. I lifted my eyes to meet hers, waiting for permission. I didn’t know how I did it. I felt like a saint at the moment with the way I fought the urge to ravage her. She nodded ever so slowly, and Satan was back. I pulled her nightgown over her head and was struck silent. I had never seen a more stunning body than hers.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered as my eyes continued to roam over her body. She pulled her arms to cover herself from my gaze, but I pulled them to the side. “Don’t cover yourself with me,” I pleaded more than commanded. “I want the image of your body burned into my brain so that every time I close my eyes, I see perfection.” Even in the pale moonlight, I could see the blush creep up her neck. It was the most intoxicating thing I’d ever seen. So seemingly innocent.
I took my time exploring every inch of her body with my mouth and fingers. When I went to taste her sex, she gasped. I lifted my head to hers.
“I’ve never,” she started but couldn’t finish her sentence. I was torn between feeling happy that I was going to be the first to experience her like this and angry that her shit ex-boyfriend never gave her what she deserved.
“I want to taste you,” I told her. It wasn’t a question, it was a demand, but she nodded her head in approval. I knew how to work a woman. I had plenty of experience, including this, but I usually just went in for the kill, getting to the meat of the action and then leaving or escorting them out. Never had I wanted to stay at this moment with a woman ever, especially for so long. I wanted Paige to come from my lips; I wanted to feel her pulsing around my tongue. I needed it, and that was exactly what I did. When she orgasmed on a moan and screaming my name, I almost came myself. It had been the single most satisfying sexual experience of my life, and nothing had been done to me.
“Be right back,” I announced as Paige came down from her high. I tossed my boxers on the floor and ripped my shirt over my head after I came back with a condom.
I rolled the condom on and moved my body to cover hers. I felt her stiffen beneath me.
“Are you sure?” I asked her. She nodded. “I need to hear it, Paige.”
“I’m sure,” she responded, but there was hesitation in her voice.
“You don’t have to worry with me. You tell me to stop anytime, and I promise I will. Even now. Tell me if you’re not sure.”
“I am.” She paused. “It’s just that …” She trailed off.
“It’s just that what?”
“I’ve never done this before.”
“I don’t understand.” I paused. “Never been touched.” It was a cross between a question and a statement, but my voice was full of awe. I couldn’t comprehend anything. It wasn’t possible, yet I was ecstatic.
“I guess deep down I was always saving myself for my husband.”
I was stunned, speechless, overjoyed, and frozen in place.
“Please, Enzo.” Her voice broke through my thoughts. Too much conversation, too many questions. I could find out the details later. Right now, Paige wanted me, she needed me, and I’d be damned if I was going to stop that from happening. I was her first. I was her first. I could physically feel the pride in me swell, among other things. I also felt like a caveman beating on his chest. She was truly mine. Mine.
“I’ll go slow,” I told her as I slipped inside. She was tight, and I had to pause several times not just to make sure it didn’t hurt for her but also because I was in danger of embarrassing myself.
“Don’t stop,” she told me as she looked into my eyes.
“Never,” I told her as my lips descended on hers and I pushed myself all the way in. I stopped and let her adjust, but soon, her hips started to move ever so slightly, and I pulled back and pushed in again.
I had never made love before; I had never even had slow, sensual sex before, but thi
s with Paige, this was exactly what we did. We were a slow Beethoven symphony, a sexual embodiment of music as we moved in perfect sync, our bodies a slow torturous rhythm until we reached the crescendo and then the music slowed even more until the final notes were just a whisper of feather light touches on the piano.
I officially loved Beethoven. I never wanted the music to end. I want to play the keys with Paige for as long as humanly possible.
“That was … that was amazing,” I told her as I kissed her face, her neck, even her hair.
“Thank you, Enzo,” she whispered.
“No, Paige, thank you.”
I took care of her like I didn’t even know I was capable of after she gave me such a gift, then we played music once more before we fell asleep in each other’s arms. I had never done that before, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I didn’t know about Paige, but I fell asleep with a smile on my lips and her on my mind. It was the best sleep I had ever had.
Twenty Five
Paige
I woke with Enzo’s arm protectively around me – his scent invaded my space, his warm embrace comforted, and his even breath lightly moved my hair. I thought back to the previous night. I think if I had fallen asleep, I might have truly had a nightmare. But I was afraid to close my eyes, which was why I had faked having a nightmare to get Enzo to come to me. It could have backfired, or he could have been fast asleep, but it worked. The stars had aligned and I had gotten Enzo to comfort me, to make me forget, to cherish me, to make love to me.
I had imagined the night I first made love a million times in my head and every romantic gesture I imagined didn’t come close to the reality that was Enzo. The situation could have gone any number of ways. He could have pushed me away; he could have been rough, smug, self-satisfied; he could have cared only about himself – but he didn’t do any of those things. He was gentle, patient, attentive, and … well, let’s just say I might have joined the “Oh, Enzo” club.
