Daniel looked torn. I knew this went against his protective instincts where I was concerned. We got out to the parking lot and I looked over to where Clay's car was parked. My heart picked up when I saw him standing there, leaning against his BMW, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, looking at me with apprehension.
Daniel followed my stare. “I don't like this, Mags. I'm serious. Just be careful.” I nodded, making my way over to Clay. Danny followed me and we both stopped when we got to the car. Clay looked at me as though I would run away. His eyes were sad and I felt a twinge of guilt for my part in making him feel that way.
Why I felt any guilt was beyond me. But, I felt it nonetheless. “Hey, Maggie.” He said quietly, my name a breath on his lips. “Hey.” I said back, just as quietly. “Look, Clay. I'm not sure what the hell your deal was at lunch. But I don't want to see that shit again. Maggie is special and I will break your legs if you hurt her.” Daniel broke in harshly.
I wanted to elbow him. Hadn't I just told him to check the protective bit?
Clay didn't take his eyes from mine, even as he answered Daniel. “I understand. I was an ass. I'm sorry. If I hurt her, I would want you to break my legs, man. I swear it!” My throat felt tight.
Daniel grunted from beside me, but neither Clay or I took our eyes off of each other. “Well, as long as we understand each other, I'll see you guys later.” Daniel said grudgingly. I looked at Danny quickly. “Thanks, Danny. I'll call you later.” I assured him. Daniel gave me a smile. “Okay. Talk to you then.” Daniel eyed Clay again and then walked away.
Clay reached out and took my hands in his. He pulled me close to him and I went willingly. “I'm so sorry, Maggie. You have no idea how much.” He whispered, putting his arms around me and holding me to his chest. I laid my cheek on the rough fabric of his jacket and closed my eyes.
“I just don't understand. What did I do?” I asked softly. I felt Clay shudder. “It's not you! It's me and my stupid insecurities. I saw you talking...touching another guy and I just lost it. I'm so scared of losing you that it makes me crazy!” He said hurriedly. His fingers kneading the back of my neck and I felt him bury his face in my hair.
I pulled away and looked at him. He looked miserable and I hated it. “You can't act like that every time I talk to a guy, Clay. It's irrational and a little scary. I'm with you! Only you! I don't know how to make you see that!” I implored, cupping his face with my hands.
Clay closed his eyes and covered one of my hands with his own and pulled it to his mouth, kissing the palm. “I know that! I do! I never want you to be scared of me. Ever.” He choked out. He seemed as though he were barely holding it together.
I hated to see him so broken. I leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. “I love you, Clay.” I murmured against his mouth. His eyes opened wide in surprise. Then a happy sort of contentment took the place of the angst on his face. He crushed his mouth to mine, his hands sweeping over my body in a desperate sort of possession.
“I love you too, Maggie. God, I love you so much!” He strangled out. We clutched together, trying to get as close as possible. “I'm yours' Clay.” I said softly as he kissed my cheeks, my neck, my hair. “Mine.” He growled before taking my mouth with his again.
Chapter Twelve
To say that things were tense for the next few days was a bit of an understatement. Clay had joined Rachel, Daniel and I again at lunch. The next day after his meltdown over Jake, he had awkwardly apologized to my friends for his behavior.
Rachel had accepted his apology, mostly I knew, out of consideration for me. Daniel was still cool toward Clay, but after a week, he had started to let up on his aloofness. A tentative sort of peace descended over our small circle and I was finally able to breathe a little easier.
Clay was going over the top to prove he was a kind and loving boyfriend. He left me beautiful drawings in my locker almost every day. Each one depicted a butterfly in varying degrees of detail. Each one was more unbelievable than the next.
When I asked him as to why he only drew the butterflies he had kissed me softly on the mouth. “Because you make me feel free.” He had answered simply. My heart melted into a puddle at my feet. He could say and do the most romantic things.
Clay had broached the topic of Lisa's cabin again at the lunch table. I knew he was trying really hard to change Rachel and Daniel's idea of him. My friends seemed less enthusiastic about it than they had been before. But after some pleading on my part, they each agreed that it could be fun.
So we made plans to spend the night at Lisa's cabin over Thanksgiving break. I desperately hoped it could eradicate this division I felt deepening between my friends and me. I knew they didn't approve of my relationship with Clay. I knew they were worried we were in too deep, too fast. And I knew they hadn't forgotten for one minute, the anger Clay was capable of.
And that upset me. Because I felt like no matter how much Clay tried to change their minds about him, their opinion was permanent. Despite how cordial they were to his face.
I became protective of my relationship with Clay. I didn't want anyone or anything to taint what we had. I felt like I was trying to hold onto a block of ice as it slowly melted through my fingers. I couldn't keep hold of the happiness I felt in those moments when things were good. Because the bad loomed not far away, just waiting to wipe everything else away.
But the trip to the cabin began to hold all my hopes for changing that. Clay seemed excited about the trip and I loved seeing him look forward to something. To see the brooding darkness erased by a real and true happiness.
“Wow, you're really excited about this trip aren't you?” I asked Clay after school. We were lying on my bed in my room. It had taken a lot of pleading to get Clay to return to my house. And yes, I knew that I was breaking one of my parents ten commandments but I knew for a fact that they would be out for at least two more hours. Giving Clay and I plenty of time to be alone together before he had to get the hell out of there. The truth was, not even my parents' wrath could stop me from being with him. I was so desperate to make things good between us that I was willing to risk anything.
Clay rolled onto his side, his feet wrapped around mine as we lay tangled together. He propped his head up on his hand and looked down at me. He rubbed his fingers over the skin of my stomach, making me squirm.
“Yeah. I'm really looking forward to it. I'm just glad everyone agreed to come.” Clay said softly and I felt a pang at the regret in his voice. He knew what my friends thought of him. He wasn't stupid. I hated it for him. For us. It didn't make things easy. But we had never done easy.
I sat up suddenly, surprising Clay with my movement. I straddled his hips and wiggled against him. He laid his head back against my pillows, his eyes changing instantly from sadness to molten desire. “You start doing that, things are going to get out of control very quickly.” He teased, running his hands up my sides. “Stop it.” I laughed. Clay chuckled and pulled my face down to kiss me. “Mmm. You taste like cherries.” He murmured against my mouth.
I smacked my lips together. “You can thank Lip Smackers.” Clay laughed again, my heart thrilled at the sound, and kissed me longer and deeper. “Thank you, Lip Smackers.” He said huskily before putting his lips to the base of my throat. He sat up, my legs wrapped around his middle and he held me tightly to his chest.
“Just think, Mags. An entire night together. I've wanted that for so long.” He whispered breathlessly as he kissed a trail from my collar bone to my ear. “Typical guy, only thinking with your penis.” I said crudely. Way to kill the moment, Maggie! I chastised myself.
Clay smirked, not put off by my choice of terminology. “Oh no, I think with other things. Like my hands.” He put them up my shirt and I gasped as his palms cupped my breasts. “And my fingers.” He whispered in my ear as his thumbs began to rub my nipples, causing a warmth to pool in my abdomen. “And my lips.” He sucked on my ear lobe and I groaned. I swear, if he had wanted, he could take me right then and
there.
“Oh god. What am I going to do with you?” He said with amusement as I became frenzied under his mouth. I frantically began pulling at his clothes, trying to get him naked. “Well, you could help me you know.” I pouted as I tried once again to get his shirt over his head. Clay only laughed and pulled away, placing a loud kiss on my mouth. “Slow down, tiger. Not here, especially since the last time I was in your room, your father almost had me lynched. And we were just sleeping that time.”
I wasn't going to let him go that easily. I deftly undid the button on his jeans, sliding my hand just inside the waist band. “Are you sure about that, Clayton? You really want me to stop?” My hand drifted lower and I used my other hand to tug the zipper down.
Clay moaned deep in his throat, his head falling back as I found what I was looking for. My fingers touched him tentatively and he jerked against me. I couldn't help but smile at my victory. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled it out of his pants. “You are an evil, evil woman, Maggie Young. Trying to tempt me like that.” He said lightly as he gently lifted me off his lap and buttoned up his jeans.
I rolled over on my bed and grabbed a pillow, tossing it at him. “You suck.” I joked. Clay caught the pillow and threw it back at me. “No, I just don't want to be that guy.” He explained. I frowned in confusion. “What guy?” I asked.
Clay sighed and sat up. “You know, the guy who waits for your parents to not be at home before deflowering their daughter in the bed she's had since childhood. You know, that guy, the one that looks for any and every opportunity to get you naked. I was that guy and I don't want to be him ever again.”
Okay. So logically I appreciated what he was saying. I knew that he was telling me that he cared about me enough to not disrespect my parents and their house by having sex with me in it. But right then, all I heard was that he had done this very thing with girls before me. And he wasn't gonna do it with me. And it pissed me off. What was wrong with me? Was I not good enough to share that sort of intimacy with? I mean, it was obvious he had been less than discriminating in the past.
I turned my back to him and straightened my clothes, putting my bra back in place and putting my hair in a ponytail. “Mags.” Clay said quietly from behind me. I leaned over and picked my Spanish book up off the floor and started to open it. Clay sat beside me. “Maggie. Don't be upset. Come on.” He pulled the book off of my lap and I just sat there, staring at my hands.
I was embarrassed and, worst of all, I felt rejected.
“Look at me.” I lifted my eyes to his very concerned ones. “What did I say to make you look like that?” He asked. Stupid, oblivious boy. My face flushed red. “So, you've had sex a bunch before. You know, done stuff with girls. But you won't do that stuff with me -your girlfriend. Am I getting this right?” I asked tightly. Clay brushed the hair from my face. “You silly, silly girl. Where does all this insecurity come from?” I started to pull away, annoyed that he could throw my insecurities in my face when he was the king of them! But he held me fast, holding onto my upper arms, forcing me to look at him.
“What I did before, that was another life. I was another person. I wasn't someone you would have ever wanted to be around, let alone be your boyfriend.” I started to protest what he was saying. To argue that I would have loved him no matter what he was like, but he silenced me.
“No, listen, Maggie. I wasn't a good person. I was sick and addicted to the worst possible things. So yes. I had sex. I fooled around with a lot of different girls. But none of it meant anything. Those girls, they used me. I used them, to try and feel something. But it was all a lie. Because I hated them. Hated myself. Nothing mattered until I met you.” His eyes were intense as they looked into mine. I was holding my breath.
“Maggie. When we make love, I want it to be special. Not some quickie in your bedroom before your parents come home. I want more than that for us. I want to be able to hold you all night and feel you against me as I fall asleep. I want us to be perfect together.” God, his words set me on fire. Had there ever been two people who loved each other as much as we did? I couldn't put into words the way we felt about each other.
“I love you.” I breathed. Since saying it that first time, I found that I just couldn't stop. I wanted him to know every second of every day how much he meant to me. “God, Maggie.” He whispered, leaning forward, capturing my mouth with his. “I love you more than anything. With everything that I am.” He answered me. Okay, I was done for. I crashed into him again. Our mouths molded together, our breath coming fast. “Just a little bit. Please, just give me something.” I begged into his mouth. Clay's heart beat erratically beneath my hand as I pressed into him.
Helpless against my feminine wiles, Clay slipped his hands up my shirt and pressed his hands against my breasts. He rubbed my nipples with his fingers, sending shocks of electricity to that sensitive spot between my thighs. I groaned into his mouth and that seemed to be his undoing. He reached around my back and unclasped my bra. Then with an ease I didn't want to focus too much on, he peeled off my shirt, taking my bra with it. I felt a little uneasy being so quickly exposed. I tried to cover myself, not sure how to behave.
Clay stopped me and pulled my arms away from my chest. His eyes were bright. “You are so beautiful.” He rasped, lowering his mouth to my breast, licking and kissing it slowly until I thought I would die with the pleasure of his touch.
With shaky fingers, I undid the buttons of his shirt and pulled it off of him. Clay's mouth returned to mine as we pressed our naked flesh against each other. “I want you so much, Clay. Please. I need this.” I whispered hoarsely as his mouth trailed back down to my aching nipples.
For a moment I thought I had won. Clay slowly unbuttoned my jeans and I raised my hips to give him easier access. He slid his hand inside, over top my underwear and pressed his palm against my wet warmth. I had never been touched so intimately before. I was breathing in rapid pants and I worried I would hyperventilate.
His fingers began to move underneath the edge of my panties. So close to where I desperately needed him to be. His mouth was hard and wet against my lips as he seemed to fight with himself for control.
I then I heard the worst possible sound. The front door slamming shut. Shit! My parents were home. I looked over at the clock, shocked to see that two hours had already passed. “Christ! You've got to get out of here! My parents will spit roast you if they find you in here.” I hastily put my bra back on, inside out I'm pretty sure, and I pulled my shirt over my head. Clay quickly buttoned up his shirt and slid his shoes on his feet.
“How am I going to get out of here?” He asked in a near panic. I looked out my window. The only way would be to climb out onto the roof and down the old oak tree. I pointed outside. “You have to go out that way!” I hissed, trying to shoo him in that direction.
Clay seemed frozen to the spot. I could hear my parents rummaging around in the kitchen, my mom's laughter at something my dad had said. It would only be minutes before they come up here looking for me.
“Hurry!” I whispered frantically. Clay's eyes had gone as big as saucers. “What is it?” I asked him hurriedly. What was the hold up here? “I'm deathly afraid of heights.” He whispered back to me. I closed my eyes and tried not to groan in frustration. He was just telling me this now?
I walked back over to my desk and dropped into my chair. Clay looked at me as if I had gone certifiably insane. “What are you doing? I have to get out of here! Your dad is going to kill me!” He was close to freaking out. I raised my hands in defeat. “If you can't go out the window, there's no way I can sneak you past them to the front door. So we might as well look like we're doing something innocent up here and I'll take whatever they dish out.” I pulled my Spanish book back out and flipped open to the page I had for homework.
Catching a glimpse of my flushed face and too bright eyes in the full length mirror over my shoulder there would be no doubt as to what we had been doing. But what else could I do?
Clay sa
t down heavily on the floor. “You're dad already hates me. Let's just give him another reason.” He sounded so resigned and sad that I wanted to smack my father for making him feel that way. I gave him a reassuring smile. “He doesn't hate you.” I lied. Clay arched his eyebrow, letting me know he called bullshit. “Well, he might dislike you a bit. Hate is a strong word.” I conceded. I wish I could say something else to make him feel better.
At that moment I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. “Maggie May? You up here?” I sighed in relief. At least it was my mom and not dad. “In here.” I called back, throwing a look at Clay that told him to play it cool. He discretely pulled a pillow over his lap and put his American History book on top of it. I had to hide my smile at how pleased I was that I had affected him like that.
“We've got Chinese food, if you want some...” My mom trailed off as she looked in my room and caught sight of Clay on the floor. He looked up and gave her a sheepish smile and a small wave. “Hey, Mrs. Young.”
“Hi there, Clayton.” Her tone was icy and she shot me a look that would kill a lesser person. She had been cool with Clay so far. But I knew from the expression on her face, that her fuzzy feelings where my boyfriend was concerned, were at an end. “I believe the two of you know the rules about being alone in here when we're not at home.” She said, making it clear that a serious grounding was in my future.
There was a moment of silence that screamed BUSTED! “Sorry mom. I know. I had to use my computer for my Spanish assignment. We have only been up here for a few minutes. No harm, no foul.” I said lackadaisically. It kind of bothered me at how easily I lied to my parents now. I had never been dishonest with them about anything. The guilt lying low in my gut threatened to burn a hole straight through me.
But I looked my mother right in the eye and internally willed her to believe me. Clay was quiet on the floor, only piping up with an apology after I had finished my explanation.
Find You in the Dark Page 15
