Razorblade Kisses

by R. L. Griffin

  Overwhelmed at the conversation and the cold air hitting her sweaty bare chest, she could only nod. Noah pulled her skirt down her legs and knelt in front of her body. She was self-conscious, but he pulled her into him, burying his face at the apex of her legs. He was the only one she’d willingly let touch her there. Her breath hitched and she put her hands in his hair. He looked up at her face, waiting for the go ahead. She nodded.

  He ran his hands over her belly, her hips, and around the rim of her panties. If heaven existed, she was sure this is what it would feel like—Noah touching her. He hooked his fingers in her panties and pulled them off, leaving them on the floor. Noah picked her up, making her wrap her legs around his waist, and carried her toward her bedroom. His lips were feather light on hers, but became more heated as she opened her mouth to him. He didn’t stop kissing her the entire time he walked them to her bedroom. When they got to the doorway he paused and leaned back, once again separating his lips from hers. “I want all of you. Can I have that?”

  Indecision gripped her. There was terror over what he was asking for, worry that she would only think of Phil, but also the possibility of utter bliss of finally being with Noah. She stopped breathing. Could she do this? Would he want her after he found out she wasn’t any good at it? What would happen after?

  “Breathe, pretty girl,” he said before laying her across the bed and kneeling before her. She’d been so lost in her head, she hadn’t even felt him move inside the room. “Tell me we’re okay.”

  “We’re better than okay,” she whispered.

  “Tell me you want me.”

  “I do.”

  “Show me,” he said, still kneeling between her legs.

  She started trembling. Emery didn’t know if it was the fact she was cold, or the anticipation or fear.

  Sitting back on his heels, Noah looked at her, naked. Then he got up and pulled her by her hands. “Come on, let’s wash that club off of us before I cherish every inch of your body.”

  He guided her into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As they waited for the water to warm up, he leaned into her, causing her to collide into the tile wall. It was freezing and covered her with chill bumps. He took her mouth with his again and all of her anxiety dissipated at once. This was Noah. He was the epitome of gentle and good and nothing that she’d ever experienced with Phil. She could do this. I will do this.

  Noah stepped into the shower and pulled her hand, guiding her in. Then he proceeded to wash her from head to toe. He poured shampoo into his enormous hands and rubbed it gently through her wet hair, his eyes never leaving hers. He lathered up her hair and then moved back against the wall to allow her more access to the water.

  While she was rinsing her hair, she felt her loofah starting at the inside of her left ankle and make its way up and around her shin and calf. Then she felt the same with the right. She felt strong, soapy hands around her thighs, moving dangerously close to where she knew if he touched, her knees would give out. Her eyes opened and she found Noah smiling and examining her body like some sort of puzzle he was trying to figure out.

  “Need to make sure we get everything,” he whispered as his hands ran the length of her core, back and forth.

  She gasped at his touch. “Noah,” she panted.

  “Time to rinse off, I think.” Noah chuckled and allowed her to turn around under the stream of hot water. He moved closer and she could feel every inch of him behind her as she rinsed off. Just breathe. He leaned down and kissed her neck. She leaned her head away from him, giving him the go ahead, and he licked and sucked behind her ear, down her neck to her back. His kisses trailed her spine, then stopped at her tailbone. She was breathing hard and braced herself against the shower wall with her hands as he ran one finger from tip to tip of her. I think I’m dying. I can’t breathe.

  “Em, breathe,” he leaned in and whispered. His voice changed everything.

  “Noah,” she said, breathless. “I…”

  “Tell me.”

  “I need you to talk to me.” Embarrassed, she looked into his sincere eyes.

  “I’ll do anything you need me to do, Em. You tell me what to do.”

  She nodded and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry off. Thoughts swirled around her brain as she thought about what she needed. She’d never thought about what she needed. Noah ran a finger down her spine and she turned to him and grabbed another towel at the same time. She needed to remember every second of this.

  Emery started drying him off, mesmerized at the size of his biceps. He had a purple bruise from his last game. She wrapped the towel around each arm and then sank to her knees. She ran the towel up and down his legs. His feet were battered from playing football in wet cleats for so many years. He was missing a toenail and she made sure she didn’t touch it. She felt his strong hands grab her under her arms and haul her up to him. His lips crushed hers with ferocity. He took her breath.

  She moaned into his mouth and he pressed into her. He moved them out of the bathroom and to the bed. As she moved back on the bed, she stared into his eyes. “Talk to me,” she urged.

  “About what, baby?” He licked around her nipple. “About what I’m about to do to you? Or the fact you’re so ready for me?”

  She stared at the ceiling and listened to his voice and felt his touch. Everywhere.

  “Tell you that I’ve been waiting on this moment for a year.” He was over her now, his arms braced next to her head keeping his full weight off her. He leaned down and whispered, “You want me to tell you that I love you? Because I do, Emily.”

  That did it. She went numb. Emily. He didn’t love her—he didn’t even know her real name.

  When she heard the familiar rip of the condom, her mind flashed back to all the times she’d heard that sound before. Panic threatened and began shutting down her brain. All of a sudden she felt him all the way inside of her. She felt stretched and full, but there was nothing there that she thought she would feel. Nothing that she should feel. Emery felt nothing in her mind. She was a void where thoughts went to die. She continued to touch him in the hopes her mind would start working. Her body responded to his every touch. She moaned when she felt like she should and arched her back when he called her name. She felt pin pricks of pain all over her body until they moved into her gut and she knew this was wrong. Noah was good and she wasn’t. He had helped her so much and she was an empty chasm where emotions should be. She couldn’t love him; she wished she could, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t love anyone. Noah expanded in her, if that was possible. She whimpered at the pain.

  “Oh, Em…so good.” His voice was tense until she felt him release himself in pleasure and still. She couldn’t breathe. She wondered if he could he tell she was miles away in her head, that she was out the door, trying to get as far away from this bed as she could.

  “Em,” he said as he rolled to the side of her, “are you okay?”

  She nodded, not willing to speak, knowing her voice would give her away.

  “I love you,” he said again as he smoothed her hair back, then ran a fingertip down her jaw.

  He got up and went to the bathroom, she assumed to get rid of the condom. She stared at the ceiling, wondering what had just happened. She knew that he’d just proven how irretrievably broken she really was. If Noah couldn’t make her feel anything, no one would. He walked back to her bed in his naked glory and climbed in, pulling her in tight. Within minutes he was asleep; he was too warm and held her too tight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Inevitable

  In the darkness that wouldn’t lift from her heart, Noah had gotten up and kissed her on the lips. Mistakenly thinking she was sleeping, he leaned in and whispered, “I love you. I’ll see you Sunday.” Then he left for an overnight retreat with the seniors on the football team before the last few games of his last season.

  As his lips grazed her ear, she focused on breathing evenly. She wasn’t asleep. She hadn’t slept all night. Her thoughts ke
pt spiraling and tangling with each other. She didn’t know how to feel or how to act. The thoughts she’d pushed to the back of her mind for the past two years had burst through any walls she’d barricaded herself behind and were wreaking havoc in her mind. Right in front was the fear that she’d never be able to move past what Phil had done to her. The realization hit her during the night. Even though she’d been lulled into thinking she could possibly be normal, she’d actually always be alone. Alone.

  During the past few years, she’d allowed herself to believe that maybe she wouldn’t have to be alone, but this one act of allowing Noah in had solidified the fact that she was broken. Her mind was damaged beyond repair. This guy that had accepted her, warts and all, just told her he loved her and her reaction was to run from him. She wanted to shake her head and tell him he didn’t love her. Emery hoped with everything she had that she could be that person for Noah—the one he thought she was—but the sad fact was that he didn’t know her at all and she’d failed at being okay. She’d never be okay.

  Emery rolled over in her bed, finally looking at the time. She moaned at the insane hour of the morning. Her legs got tangled in the sheets as she contemplated what she would do with her day. She stretched and took in the smell of Noah that now filled her bed. Her body was actually a little sore.

  She missed what they had yesterday; their easy companionship, flirty teasing, and trust. They’d built a true friendship with benefits before she realized that she was incapable of loving this person who meant so much to her. Why couldn’t she love him? Why don’t I feel what I want to feel? I want to feel what he feels. She flung herself out of bed, pulled on one of Noah’s shirts, and walked over to the laptop Derrick had given her.

  Searching the web, she typed in what she was feeling. She felt lost and alone, not believing that anyone would be as fucked up as she felt. It was horrible, a feeling she didn’t wish on anyone else. Funny thing was, she found that there was such a thing, an actual diagnosis for a person that didn’t feel. She wasn’t the only one who couldn’t feel the right emotions! She had anhedonia—it was an actual thing.

  After self-diagnosing her emotional status, she felt better, like it really wasn’t her fault. Turning off her computer, she walked over to her dresser and pulled out a bathing suit and put it on, then a shirt and shorts. It was unseasonably warm this week and she’d take advantage of it. She could lie in the sun and sleep all day, seeing as how she didn’t get any last night.

  She sent Rachel a text first.

  I miss you

  Catching sight of herself in the mirror on her way out the door stopped her in her tracks. She was drawn in by the person in the mirror. The person wasn’t her, the scared girl who fled Atlanta in the middle of the night. This girl looked…better. Her face was fuller, her eyes lacked the bags that had taken up residency under her eyes when she left her family. She laughed more and enjoyed everything with him. Noah had made her feel things. Maybe they weren’t the right things, but he made her have actual feelings. He’d made her healthier or at least want to be better. So why did everything suddenly feel so wrong?

  When Emery got to the den she realized it was too early to go to the pool so she started a pot of coffee. She wasn’t really sure how to make it, but she tried, then picked up her Kindle. She couldn’t handle a romance right now, though, so she went back to her homepage to start something different. She needed broken people doing insane things to make her feel better and settled finally on re-reading Choke. She settled in Noah’s La-Z-Boy and fell into the fucked up world of Victor Mancini.

  She woke up a few hours later after only getting a few pages through the Chuck Palahniuk book. Standing up, she stretched her cramped body and made her way to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee. She added sugar and took a huge gulp, which she immediately spit out all over the sink. It tasted like shit. Cold shit.

  “Fuck, that’s disgusting,” she said to no one. “How does anyone drink this?”

  She put the mug in the microwave to heat it up, watching it turn in circles for thirty seconds before she went looking for the milk carton. Pouring some of the coffee out in the sink, she filled the mug back up with milk and added more sugar. She took a tentative sip. Much better.

  Rachel hadn’t texted her back, but it was only ten. Moving the curtains out of the way, she could see a few people already at the pool. There was always a week in October that felt like summer. Every year she loved that week because it was the heat without the humidity, which was rare.

  Emery grabbed a beach towel she’d bought this summer and locked the front door. Putting in her earbuds, she could already feel herself relax as the voices of The Civil Wars sang hauntingly into her ears. She’d block everything out for the next few hours and then she’d decide what to do about Noah. She needed to figure it out now or she would lose him.

  She woke up as the sun was setting; she’d slept for hours after she read an entire book. A chill invaded the day and when she stretched, she could tell she was going to regret falling asleep in the sun. Emery fastened her top and pushed herself off the chair. Standing up too quickly made her see stars. It probably didn’t help that she hadn’t eaten anything that day. As she pulled on her clothes, she looked toward her place and saw a pickup truck she didn’t recognize sitting in front of the door. Puzzled, she grabbed her towel and keys and went to get a better look.

  Before she’d gotten ten feet, she saw that her door was wide open. She knew she’d closed it. Reality that someone was in her condo suddenly sank in, and she started backing away.

  He’d found her.

  She started, as casually as she could, walking to Noah’s tutor’s place a few buildings away. Suddenly she felt a hand grab her bicep and swing her around. The guy she was facing was in his fifties and had a full beard and mustache. His eyes searched hers.

  “You live in that apartment?” he demanded.

  She shook her head no and looked down at his hand grasping her arm.

  He pulled out a picture of Emery from two years ago. “This is you, ain’t it?”

  “No, sir,” she answered, but her voice waivered.

  “You look like her,” he said, stepping closer to her and squeezing her arm tighter.

  “My hair isn’t even blond,” she contradicted, hoping he would fall for her denial.

  He let his arm fall from her bicep and then tore at the sleeve of her right arm, ripping it up to expose what was under it.

  Emery stopped breathing.

  “Shit!” The guy threw her arm down and turned, walking back into her condo. Noah’s condo.

  What the fuck had she brought to him?

  With all the strength she could muster, she started walking down the line of condos again. Once she got to Vanessa’s, she’d call Rachel. Rachel would know what to do. As she rounded the building, she heard a door slam and a truck’s engine fire up. She slipped behind the building, but took a look back toward the condo and saw the truck speeding away. Her mind raced. Was there anything in her room that would give her away? She panicked because this wasn’t just about her now. Her actions impacted Noah, and it wasn’t fair to drag him into this.

  Emery waited a few minutes to make sure the truck was gone for good before she hurried back to her place. As soon as she got in the door, she began to cry. The place had been ransacked. The La-Z-Boy chairs were tipped on their sides. All the papers that had been on the table were strewn on the ground. The refrigerator was open, and several cans of beer rolled on the tile. She ran to her room.

  Her bag was dumped out on her bed, her ID pulled out from her wallet. It wouldn’t give her away. Turning furiously, she kept looking for anything that would give her away. Her phone vibrated from somewhere in her bedroom and she started throwing things around to find it. She couldn’t remember where she’d put it, and then recalled it was in her clutch from last night. Emery fell to the floor and looked under her bed, where the clutch was hidden. Relief rushed through her when she realized her phone was probabl
y the only thing she had that would prove that she wasn’t Emily.

  She scooted out from under the bed while sliding the screen open. She had 47 messages, mostly from Rachel and Noah. Rachel was on her way; Phil had found her and told her as much in their last exchange. This was only confirmation of what she’d just seen.

  The messages were sent hours ago.

  Banging on the door made her almost jump out of her skin. She crept to the window in her room and looked out. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Rachel and Derrick at her front door. It was the first time Emery had ever seen him in person. He towered over her friend. They looked like a fucking advertisement for H&M or something. Rachel was wearing torn skinny jeans with a long-sleeved shirt that hung off her shoulder and he was wearing worn jeans, a t-shirt, and a beat up brown leather coat. Their hands were joined and Derrick was gazing at Rachel with so much adoration, Emery almost forgot her terror. Almost.

  She ran to the front door, flinging it open. Rachel flew into her arms yelling, “What the fuck are you trying to do, kill me? I’ve been calling and texting all fucking day, worried sick that…” The words died on her lips as Rachel opened her eyes and took in the apartment. “What the fuck?”

  Derrick pushed them into the condo so that he could shut the door. He locked the deadbolt. “You okay, Em?” He talked to her like he knew her even though they’d never met. He took his jacket off and dropped it to the ground, surveying the damage.

  Emery nodded. His hair had grown out some since the last time she’d seen pictures of him, but that’d been several years ago. It smoothed out his rough exterior, but the tattoos on his forearms gave him away a bit. His blue eyes were just as intense as she remembered.

  “Let’s clean this place up quick and pack your shit. We need to get out as soon as we can,” he started ordering them around and taking control of the situation.