Dark Moon

by Victoria Wakefield

  “I can’t imagine that,” I said. “You seem so…put together.”

  “That was nine years ago. I’m a different person now,” he said seriously. “Have you ever had one single thing in your life completely change who you are?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I have,” I whispered.

  Michael looked like he was expecting for me to elaborate, but I shook my head. “I want to hear your story,” I told him.

  “When my mom got sick, I didn’t grasp the seriousness of it. People get sick and then they get well. I had no comprehension that cancer was a completely different monster. After her diagnosis, she deteriorated quickly. We didn’t even have a year.” Michael paused.

  “Before she died, I took a leave of absence from school to help my family. Tried to become the son I should have always been. I took her to chemo, talked to a lawyer to help arrange mom’s will and ultimately, planned her funeral. Rose and my father were shattered, immobile.”

  “Michael, that’s so sad. But doesn’t it remind you of her, every day when you see terminally ill patients?” I asked.

  He nodded. “It does, but I feel like what I’m doing might someday save another mom, sister, father.” He shrugged. “Everyone has loved ones. We all crave human connection. It’s incredibly heart wrenching to see these families that gather in the exam room, hope in their eyes, praying for good news. And, sure, sometimes it is good news. But the majority of the time, the outlook is bleak.”

  His words rang in my ears. Everyone has loved ones. We all crave human connection. I had spent so much of the last couple of years pretending I could get through life as a loner. But it didn’t matter what I wanted. I was shutting everyone out for their own good.

  “Did you know right away when you went back to school that you wanted to become a doctor?” I asked Michael.

  “No,” he admitted. He raked his hands through his hair and sighed. “I spent another month screwing around. My dad was pissed. Said he wasn’t going to keep paying my tuition if I couldn’t get serious. I can’t explain why, but something clicked. I finished my undergrad degree in Biology. Went straight into med school. Took as many classes as they would let me. It’s why I was able to start practicing before I was thirty.”

  “That’s really impressive,” I said. I giggled. “You know all the nurses have crushes on you, right? Nurse Evie told me you bring them donuts sometimes; are you trying to egg them on? Have every woman following you around like a lost puppy dog?” I asked teasingly.

  “There’s only one person at the hospital I want to have a crush on me,” he said in that deep, sexy voice of his.

  “Nurse Barbara?” I asked innocently.

  He laughed. “Nice lady, but no.”

  The wine was making me feel bolder. “You know I noticed you the first day I saw you,” I told him.

  Michael looked pleased. “Oh, really?” he asked.

  “Really.” I reached across the table and touched his hand.

  Michael leaned forward and took my hand in his. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now? I swear, every man in this place is looking at you. You could wear a garbage bag and still be the hottest woman in the room. But in that dress…God, Lana, you’ve got no idea, do you?”

  I was feeling nervous again. I downed the rest of my wine with my free hand. Luckily, the waitress arrived and I didn’t have to answer Michael.

  “Ready to order?” she asked Michael sweetly.

  “Ready if you are, Lana,” he said to me.

  I said I was and the waitress turned to take my order. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. She was obviously jealous of me, wished she could switch places and have a hot guy like Michael taking her out on a Saturday night.

  “So, I’ve told you my story. What’s yours?” Michael asked when the waitress had left.

  Normally, I hate talking about personal stuff. But somehow with Michael it was easy. I didn’t allow myself to acknowledge that I wasn’t revealing the most important thing. I would never tell anyone about that.

  The evening flew by. Michael ordered us each a cognac and we shared the homemade ice cream sundae. I felt like we were in a romantic movie, giggling and feeding each other spoons of ice cream and whipped cream. When it was time to go, I didn’t want to leave.

  Michael put on a jazz CD when we got back in the car. We were silent on the ride back to my dorm. “I had a really good time,” he said softly, pulling into the parking lot across from my building.

  “Me, too,” I whispered. “Thanks for dinner.”

  We sat there looking at each other, neither one of us making a move to leave the car.

  And then, as if we both spoke the same silent language, Michael and I began kissing, passionately, feverishly, our tongues intertwined. I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his neck, trying to pull him as close to me as possible. Waves of heat travelled up and down my body.

  Michael put his hand between my thighs and slowly slid it upwards to my underwear, rubbing up and down methodically. I moaned in pleasure, opening my legs wider.

  “You’re so fucking wet, Lana,” he said huskily, kissing down my neck.

  “I’ve never been so turned on in my life,” I replied breathlessly.

  Michael started to pull back my panties to touch me, but suddenly stopped, laughing nervously. I had never seen him flustered before. “I don’t want to, but we should quit,” he said. “We’re in a parking lot by your school. I want nothing more than to make love to you, but it has to be special. It’s our first date. You barely know me. It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly for me to ask you to come home with me tonight.”

  I smoothed down my dress, trying to regain my composure. “I guess you’re right,” I said reluctantly.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” Michael asked me.

  “Just homework,” I said.

  “Spend the day with me instead,” he replied. “My apartment is downtown, overlooking the river. I have a beautiful balcony. We can go for a walk and have lunch by the water and that evening I can cook you dinner.”

  It sounded like the most romantic day I could ever imagine. When I answered Michael I acted purely on instinct, wouldn’t let myself consider the consequences of getting closer to him.

  “Yes. What time?”

  “I want you there as soon as I open my eyes in the morning, but I need to go shopping for ingredients. How about noon?”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I said.

  Michael caressed my hair with one hand, holding the small of my back protectively with the other. “And, Lana, no pressure, I promise. But, if you want to, you can stay the night.”

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  With one final kiss, Michael got out of the car and came around to open my door. He walked me to the entrance of the building.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lana,” he said. Now that we were illuminated from the light on the side of the dormitory, I could see that his face was flushed.

  “I can’t wait,” I whispered back. I stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips, trying not to press my body against his, even though I was dying to feel him.

  He laughed nervously again. “Noon tomorrow. I’ll text you my address. And think about my offer.”

  I watched Michael until he got to his car, then finally went inside the dorm.

  Maryanne was sitting at my desk chair, smoking out the window. She jumped when I came in.

  “Shit, Lana! Sorry. I’ll put it out. Graham left his cigarettes and I just felt like a buzz.”

  “I don’t care,” I said. I was still lightheaded. “In fact, give me one.” I didn’t want my high to end.

  Maryanne tossed me the pack and a lighter. “Tell me everything!” she demanded.

  “I don’t know where to start,” I said honestly. “He’s so fucking amazing, MA. I can’t believe it. I – I’ve never felt this way before in my life.”

  Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “It’s overwhel
ming,” I said. “I’m not sure how to even describe it.” I inhaled deeply, trying not to cough. The nicotine was fucking my head up even worse, but I liked the sensation. I didn’t want to feel normal again.

  “I’m seeing him tomorrow. Spending the day with him.” I grinned. My face was sore from kissing and smiling so much.

  “Wow, that’s fast!” she exclaimed. “Do you think you’re ready?” Maryanne looked skeptical. “I mean, you know if you’re at his house, he might expect sex.”

  “He said we could take it at whatever speed I felt comfortable with,” I replied.

  “I don’t mean to be a downer, but after what you told me happened before, I worry about you. I don’t want you to be forced into anything you aren’t ready for.”

  “I appreciate the concern but Michael’s not like that other creep.” I sighed dreamily. “And I think I want to sleep with him. I’ve honestly never felt this way about any man in my entire life.”

  “Hey, if it’s what you want, then go for it.” Maryanne tossed her cigarette butt out the window.

  “How was your evening?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Graham came over. It was all right, I guess. I’m kind of bored with him though. I have to smoke to kiss him because otherwise I taste the tobacco.”

  “Maryanne, you’re so gorgeous, why don’t you find a guy who really appreciates you?”

  Maryanne blushed, and I instantly felt bad. “I didn’t mean anything,” I said quickly. “I just want you to find someone who deserves you.”

  “I’m just playing the field right now,” Maryanne said lightly. “Maybe in another couple of years…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Want to watch TV?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Sure.”

  I honestly have no idea what Maryanne put on to watch. I was engrossed in my own thoughts. I couldn’t get Michael out of my head. The feel of his lips against mine, his hands rubbing against my panties. I wasn’t fast, I wasn’t easy, but I was almost certain that I was going to sleep with Michael Reynolds tomorrow night.

  Chapter 8

  The next day, I couldn’t stop looking at my phone, impatient for noon to arrive so I could see Michael again. Today would be more casual, so I wore my favorite dark jeans and a black, fitted t-shirt. I usually avoided that shirt because the V-neck was lower than I was comfortable with, but today I actually wanted someone staring at my boobs.

  Maryanne watched me worriedly as I stuffed my backpack with a clean set of clothes and my toothbrush. “Only in case I decide to stay,” I said flippantly. “I’ll leave it in the car.”

  “Just be careful, Lana. If you do have sex with him, please, make sure he uses protection.”

  “Yes, mother.” I rolled my eyes and headed to my car.

  Michael had texted me first thing in the morning. I hope I didn’t scare you away. I can’t wait to see you at noon. xxx

  I had texted back that I couldn’t wait to see him either. I blasted the radio and sung along at the top of my lungs for the entire drive to his place. Nothing could kill my good mood.

  As I pulled up to his apartment complex, I could feel myself getting nervous again. We weren’t drunk. What would it be like? Would kissing him feel the same as it had last night?

  I didn’t have to wonder for long. Michael greeted me at the door, putting his hands around my waist and pulling me into the apartment. Before I even got the chance to look around, he was kissing me.

  “I missed you so much,” he whispered.

  I slid my hands underneath his polo shirt, running them up and down his muscular back. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night,” I said shyly.

  Michael took my hand and led me into the living room. It was modern, with black leather couches, a glass coffee table, and a flat panel TV. He started kissing me again and we clumsily fell down onto one of the couches. Before I realized what was happening, I was lying down and Michael was on top of me, kissing me feverishly.

  Just like last night, he stopped himself. “I swear I wasn’t planning this, not for when you first got here. I have protection, but it’s in my bedroom.”

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “I can wait, though,” Michael said, “as painful as it is.”

  “I need to feel you,” I said. “Kiss me.”

  I was ready to have sex with him. I didn’t care how long we’d known each other. Everything you read about sex says to wait until you’ve known your partner for a long time to make sure it’s special. I knew what I felt, and I knew I couldn’t wait.

  Michael groaned as I pulled his polo shirt off over his head. He didn’t stop me. And I didn’t stop him when he yanked my black top off. He cupped my breasts through my bra, then leaned down and kissed along my chest.

  Michael pulled the left cup of my bra down, and my breast spilled out. He started kissing my nipple, licking all around it. I moaned and writhed in pleasure, my head spinning.

  “I want to fuck you,” I heard myself saying.

  “Shh.” Michael leaned in, his finger over his lips. “Not yet.”

  And then it was happening. Michael was unbuttoning my jeans, slipping them off my hips, exposing my panties. “Are you okay with this?” he asked, already pulling my underwear off.

  “Yes,” I said without hesitation.

  It took me a minute to realize what was going on. He started kissing down my stomach, all the way to my pubic bone.

  Michael was going down on me. I had the brief thought that I should be embarrassed, but it was quickly overtaken by the sheer pleasure of feeling his tongue against me. My body moved involuntarily as his mouth did things I couldn’t imagine. I moaned his name, felt the overwhelming pleasure and release when I came, his mouth still against me.

  “God, you’re sexy,” Michael said breathlessly. I sat upright on the couch, suddenly self-conscious. I pulled my underwear off the floor and slipped them back on and adjusted my bra so that my breasts were covered. I still felt exposed, sitting there in my bra and panties.

  Michael took my hand and kissed it softly. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, no,” I quickly assured him. “It’s not you. You’re really good at that,” I said nervously.

  He grinned. “So why do you seem so uncomfortable? You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re perfect.”

  I looked away. “I have something to tell you.”

  “Okay.” Michael’s grin dissolved into a puzzled expression.

  “Shit, I feel so weird about this.” I stood up and put my jeans and shirt back on.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Michael said softly.

  “Can I have a drink? Wine?” I was terrified that when I told Michael I was a virgin he was going to want nothing to do with me. Sure, maybe it was cool to deflower your girlfriend when you were sixteen, but didn’t men Michael’s age want a woman with experience?

  Michael laughed. “Sure. That sounds nice. I’ll be right back.”

  After he left the room, I took the opportunity to really look around. I walked over to the huge window on the opposite side of the couch. His apartment was on the tenth floor and he had a beautiful view of the river.

  “It’s nice, isn’t it?” Michael asked. He had come up beside me and was looking at me intensely. Michael held out a glass of white wine.

  “Thanks,” I whispered, taking a sip. I had been too nervous to eat this morning, and I immediately felt the effects of the wine on an empty stomach.

  We walked back over to the couch I had just been lying on and sat down. Michael placed his hand on my leg protectively. I took another sip of wine.

  “Feeling more relaxed?” he asked lightly.

  I nodded and turned to kiss him. We sat there, kissing softly, not like the feverish kisses of last night and when I’d first arrived today. It was different, but still absolutely intoxicating.

  When we finally broke apart, Michael said, “You can tell me anything, Lana, and it won’t change how I feel about you.”

  “Ok
ay.” I took a deep breath and forced myself to say the words. “What you just did for me…I’ve never experienced before.” I paused and looked at Michael. “I’m a virgin.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “Lana, are you serious? How is that possible?”

  “I know I’m a freak,” I said morosely. “Remember when I told you I wasn’t dating material? Well, I meant it.”

  Michael smiled and pulled me to him, so that my back was leaning against his chest, his arms wrapped around me. “You’re not a freak. I can’t deny that I’m not shocked, but for me, it’s insanely sexy. You shouldn’t feel bad about being a virgin. It’s incredible to think that no one else has touched you before or…tasted you before. I love the thought that I might be the first – the only – man that you let inside of you. If that’s what you want,” he was quick to add.

  “It is what I want,” I whispered, feeling the weight of the world being lifted off of my shoulders.

  “There’s absolutely no pressure,” Michael assured me. “I could never forgive myself if I pushed you to do more than you were ready for. I’d have never suggested you spend the night with me if I’d known. God, Lana, I just can’t comprehend that you’re a virgin. You’re so stunning; how have you not had tons of lovers?”

  “There’s something else I should tell you, part of why I haven’t dated, why I haven’t slept with anyone.” The part that you can know about, at least.

  “I had a bad experience when I was fifteen,” I said quickly, before I lost my nerve. “My boyfriend tried to rape me.”

  I could feel Michel’s body instantly tense up. “What the fuck?” he said. “No decent guy would ever try to push himself on a girl. What did that fucker do? Did you report him?”

  “No, and the only people I’ve ever told are you and Maryanne.” I recounted the same story I had just recently told Maryanne. It was the truth, minus the part where I had almost killed Damon.

  Michael sighed. “I suppose the past is the past. And I can see why it would make you swear off dating, but I promise you not all guys are like that jerk. I’m not like that.”