Messed Up and Magic: (A New Adult Romance Novel)

by Stone, Holly

  Amy grabbed at the hem of her white blouse, yanking it over her head with so much haste that her hair fluffed up with static. Her skin was creamy, freckly in places, and so silky looking I wanted to lick over her collarbone and down into the valley between her tits. I wanted to taste the sweet-saltiness of her again, to do everything that I remembered from the night before and more. I wanted time to play with her body and relish all the ways it yielded to and was different from mine. I wanted to forget all the reasons this was a bad idea.

  Amy stared right into my eyes as she reached behind to unhook the plain white bra she was wearing, but I had to look at what she was revealing. It was too sweet and I was so hungry for her.

  “I don’t know what it is about you, Jack,” she breathed, reaching out to run her fingers over the shaved sides of my hair, then up through the longer top, tugging gently. Her touch made my eyelids drop and my loose hands reach for her sides until my thumbs found their new favourite spot, resting just under the swell of her breasts. “When I’m with you I feel quieter inside.”

  Amy had always given me a sense of peace, even when there was nothing more between us than formal words and time spent in the same restaurant, so it was strange and beautiful to know that I gave her the same feeling of tranquillity. I kissed her deep and long, leaving my hands where they were, delaying what her squirmy body seemed to want. I realised something then, and it settled inside me like sand in still water, heavy and calm; that Amy asking for what she wanted from me made her feel stronger, and it was in choosing what she wanted that she became calmer. It made me want to surrender more control, to make her resilient enough to face what she had to deal with in her life. She was grabbing my hair tighter then, as if she wanted to tell me to go faster, be rougher maybe, or wilder, but it wasn’t enough.

  I wanted to hear her ask for what she wanted.

  All she had to do was tell me, and I knew I would do anything for her. We had more than just the days since she invited me out of the cold between us; we had years. I was as much a goner for her clear, silvery eyes and her hair that was the colour of toffee as I was for her laugh and her spirit, her loyalty and heart, and for all the years I knew she saw me and managed to find a way to give me what I needed without ever letting on.

  “Tell me what you want,” I mouthed against her neck, my hands still at her ribs, rising and falling with her every breath.

  “And if I do, will you do it?” Her voice was low and husky and it made me crazy to hear how affected she was.

  “Anything you ask.”

  Amy paused then, as if she was considering her options. I hoped she relished the freedom to choose for things to be exactly as she wanted.

  I wasn’t expecting her response but I guess that’s why it took my breath away. “Hold me down and fuck me like you mean it.”

  What do you say to something like that? I know for a fact that there isn’t a man alive who wouldn’t trade his left nut to hear a sweet, gorgeous girl like Amy say that to them and mean it. Her words licked my skin like fire but it was the look in her eyes, the need I could see there and the challenge, that flared against my heart. I kissed her hard, unable to be gentle in the face of her want, then reached beneath her arse to pick her up. It was the fastest way to get us to the bed, her jean clad legs circling my waist like a vice as we staggered across the room, and then down onto my low mattress, hands pawing at each other, mouths still joined in a way that was so hot and wet I didn’t want to ever stop. She pushed against my shoulders so I was braced on my arms above her.

  Amy reached between us to unfasten her belt, button and zip, her fingers fumbling as they went about shedding the last of her clothing. I scrambled to unzip the tan boots from her feet. We were a frenzy of hands and panting breath, of impatience and craving. My mouth watered at the thought of the taste of her skin, of the feel of her tongue against mine.

  While she wiggled out of her jeans and knickers, I pulled off my t-shirt and shorts, not giving a fuck that the light was bright. This way I got to see all of her, watch as she opened her legs, revealing how wet she was, how pink and inviting. I stayed back on my haunches, holding my cock as it got harder.

  “Have you got condoms?” she asked and I reached over the side of the bed to rummage in my holdall for them. I hated the things, but sex wasn’t supposed to be risky, it was supposed to be fun, or at least that’s the kind of sex I’d had in the past. ‘Making love’ wasn’t something I knew much about. “I want to watch you put it on,” Amy said, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “I want to watch you getting ready for me.”

  Her eyes never left my cock as I ripped open the packet and rolled the rubber over my erection. I bent forward to kiss her thighs, but she pulled at my arm and wrapped her legs around my waist again, holding me tight. I rested myself on one forearm, so I could use my other hand to stroke the hair from her face. I wanted to look into her eyes as I eased myself inside her, to see the flickers of lust and passion, the moment she surrendered to me in a way I couldn’t have believed was possible less than a week ago. Her eyes rolled as I rubbed my cock over her clit and down into her heat. She was wet but not all the way, which was fine because I liked the feeling that I had to work to get in, thrusting in slowly until she adjusted around me. I fucking loved the sounds she made as I pressed into her until we were bone to bone, as deeply connected as we could be. I remembered then that she had been specific about how she wanted this to play out. She might have given the orders but she wanted me in charge of the action.

  “Put your hands next to your head on the bed,” I said, interrupting each word with a kiss to her mouth and face. I could smell her face cream and the remnants of the perfume she had sprayed in the morning. I could smell the scent made by her body that wasn’t masked by all the products she used, and it was that one that made me lightheaded. When Amy raised her arms I moved mine so they ran alongside, the position allowing me to hold her down tightly. My cock kicked when our fingers tangled and I looked into her eyes again, now glittering with excitement.

  “You okay?” I asked, wanting to make sure before I started to move.

  “Yeah,” she breathed, bringing a foot around behind my arse to nudge me. “You feel good, Jack. Let me feel you move.”

  I didn’t need telling twice. It had been a few months since I last got laid. That time it had been a rushed, standing, fully-clothed fuck without a lot of eye contact or name-knowing. She was a girl I’d met at a house party a couple of years before. We had a thing; bump into each other, chat and laugh, then shag each other’s brains out. It was a base-needs arrangement without expectations or obligations.

  This wasn’t anything like that.

  I badly wanted to make Amy come. I wanted to make her feel better than any other man who had been lucky enough to get with her. It was pressure I hadn’t felt before but when I started to roll my hips and grind into her, I forgot about anything other than the moment I was in with the beautiful girl who was breathing hard beneath me. The sensations that were building between my legs were overwhelming. She was so wet now I could feel it against my balls, and so swollen each thrust felt tighter. We were slick where our skin touched, and hot where our lips met and breath gusted. Our hands clenched together in the rhythm of sex, my knuckles paling with exertion.

  Amy’s hips were shifting frantically as she chased nearer to the possibility of release. I knew I had more chance of getting her there if I had a free hand, but when I asked if she wanted me to try she shook her head frantically, eyes squeezed tight, face a mask of concentration. Even her button nose was wrinkled.

  I was fighting to hold myself back now, eyes closed, face buried in Amy’s neck, trying not to inhale her scent or think of what we were actually doing. If I did, I knew I wouldn’t have a hope of keeping control. I wanted to make her come so badly but I’d had sex enough times to know that not all girls can get there from penetration alone. “Can you come like this?” I asked, looking into her glazed eyes, grinding hard against her clit an
d lifting my hips to nudge at her g-spot.

  She shook her head and smiled. “It feels so damn good though, it’s perfect, don’t stop.”

  This was all about Amy and what she needed from me so I thrust harder, and as she ground her hips into me, she lifted her head to lick over my top lip. Amy held my gaze and it felt so intimate, to see the pleasure in each other’s eyes growing and building.

  “Come, Jack,” she whispered. “Let me feel you let go. Let me feeling how good I make you feel.”

  It was her words that pushed me over the edge, and she watched me, bright-eyed as I came inside her, gripping me with her legs as though she wanted no space between us. “That’s it, Jack, that’s it,” Amy whispered. My orgasm ripped through me and it took minutes for me to recover my breath and settle between her legs. I knew I would have to pull out soon so the condom didn’t overflow, but I liked resting inside her too much to move straight away.

  “I think you broke my brain this time,” I said and when laughter bubbled out of her, my heart felt bigger. Sometimes the world is just shit; shit things happening and shit people making them happen. Amy and I had both been in the ring and were still reeling from the punches but I realised that, as shit as things had been, it was all our problems that had brought us together.

  There are moments in life when time seems to slow and I was grateful for it then, for those seconds to savour the little slice of happiness that had wedged itself into my life. I kissed her lips, tasting her smile like it was syrup, running my hands down her arms, along the graceful column of her neck and over her ribs. The single mattress was a tight squeeze but I managed to shift until I was on my side next to her, head propped on my hand so I could take in the full glory of the woman next to me. I pulled off the condom, twisted the top, and dropped it on the tiled floor next to me. Amy turned and cupped my cheek again in that tender way she had and I closed my eyes and nuzzled into her hand as my heart clenched at the realisation of how much I enjoyed the affection. Those were dangerous feelings. When I opened my eyes she was watching me.

  “You like that?” Amy slid her hands over my scalp, making nerves buzz down my neck and over the top of my head.

  “Yeah, it feels good,” I said, my voice sounding gravely and unfamiliar.

  While Amy stroked through my hair, I caressed over her breasts, feeling her shiver against my touch, going slowly, teasing each nipple into a tight bud, and then continuing further until I reached the soft hair of her pussy. She sighed, and it was the sweetest sound of contentment. I didn’t want to go fast; I wanted to explore her, play with her until she begged me to let her come. I wanted to give her everything she needed so that when she had to face her problems again, she felt calm and strong and in control. Her legs shifted so she was more open for me and I used the tip of my index finger to trace her seam with the lightest touch I could manage. I knew she liked it because her stomach muscles contracted and her hips jerked as though they were secured to a string that I’d tugged on. Amy rewarded me with another sigh, then a moan as I found where she was wet and pushed just inside the place that had made my whole body sing.

  “Fuck, you’re so hot,” I groaned, feeling my cock pulse greedily, getting ready for another round. I pushed my finger upwards and got the response I was looking for; a pant and writhe from Amy. “Touch yourself,” I ordered, watching as she put her hand down to her clit and began rubbing slowly. “That’s it.” I fucked into her harder and her hips rose up off the bed, fingers working faster as she sprinted up the hill that stretched out before the oblivion of orgasm. “I want to see you come.”

  “Oh…don’t stop,” Amy panted out, grinding against my hand as she had the night before, everything so wet and warm I had to swallow down my own desire for more satisfaction.

  “Oh…that’s it, that’s…” She came soundlessly, body going tight, thighs gripping my hand like a vice. I’d never seen anything sexier.

  I lay my head next to Amy’s on the pillow and watched her come down from wherever she had floated to, taking in the flickering of her eyelashes, the way she drew her bottom lip into her mouth, the rise and fall of her chest, the tiny beads of sweat I could see at her hairline, committing it all to memory. When she turned to her side, facing away from me, I was glad I had. I could already feel her pulling away.

  Amy reached behind to find my hand and then tucked my arm around her until we were spooned tightly. I held her because she needed it and because it anchored me too. She didn’t speak, just stroked over my fingers gently. I fell asleep with my nose pressed into her hair, hoping that everything would be okay in the light of day, whatever okay was.

  Chapter 10

  Amy

  There is such stillness in the hours after midnight, when the sky is tinged inky-blue and charcoal, and life is tucked away behind closed doors and in warm burrows. Time seems to pass more slowly; stolen moments stretching out like ropes of gold.

  Driving through the country lanes that drew me further from my home, I felt a strange mix of relief and curling fear. No one knew where I was or where I was going. I was out on a limb, severed from all the ties I’d built up in my life and all the familiar places I’d existed. It seemed right to leave under the cover of darkness, as though I was driving into the thickness of the unknown and when the sun rose it would be on a different Amy. I didn’t want to feel sad anymore. I wanted to grab hold of my life with both hands.

  My dad had stopped calling just after 11pm. Jess had tried once but didn’t leave a message. Dan had called too and her voice had sounded sad on my answer machine. She wanted me to come home. I didn’t care.

  I’d left Jack sleeping peacefully, slipping out from under his arm, picking up my things and dressing as quietly as I could. He stirred but didn’t wake, which I was glad of. It gave me the opportunity to look at him, to try and imprint the sight of him to memory; the swell of muscles on the arm that had held me close, the lips that had kissed me, his strong hands that had gripped me tight and brought me such relief. Going to Jack should have seemed wrong, but being with Jack had been perfect. Leaving him without saying goodbye was my only regret. At least now I knew he had a place to stay and someone looking out for him. I just hoped he would understand.

  My car was filled with the possessions I hadn’t wanted to leave behind, mostly everyday items but also some sentimental things that I couldn’t bear to be without, even if they were too painful to look at. The box I never opened that held all memories of my mother behind wood and metal, tucked away like my thoughts of her and the years before she left. I’d packed my photo albums too but they would also remain unopened, shutting away the faces of people who had let me down.

  The road before me narrowed further, curving sharply as it bypassed a large, low lake that glowed like a horizontal mirror in the moonlight, leading me through a jumbled village of wonky cottages and new bungalows built too close to the passing highway. Then I was through to more fields empty of crops, dilapidated barns and a pub that had been boarded up and defaced with the pathetic messages of jaded youth. I had a few more miles to go until I reached the sea.

  Maybe it was silly of me to head to the place I’d holidayed with my father when I was a child. I wanted to feel brave, but in reality all I was doing was leaving one familiar place for another. It was years since we had visited, almost a decade, but as I reached the outskirts of the small seaside town of Lowstrand, it was obvious that not much had changed. The quaint little high street still boasted a tearoom, post office and small grocery store. It all looked forlorn in the darkness with shutters down and brightly coloured displays packed away. The road sloped towards the beach and as I rounded the corner, the sea stretched in front of me, slick and black as oil.

  Beaches on this coast had shorelines that disappeared at high-tide but stretched for many meters at low. The sea was close today, the shushing sound of the waves loud as I lowered my window to breathe in the damp, briny smell of the dark ocean. Cool, salty air gusted over my face like a balm, calling me
to come closer. I parked quickly, mounting the kerb in a restricted parking zone, trusting no traffic wardens would be patrolling the sleepy town so late. There was a path that ran down to the lower beach level and I followed it, drawn by the restless waters below. I sat on the pebbled concrete to remove my boots and socks and then gripped them tightly as I headed across the cold sand to the colder sea. The water washed over my bare feet, shocking but welcome. I wanted to feel cleansed of everything that had come before. I wanted to wake up to a new life.

  I don’t know how long I stood there, looking out onto an invisible horizon, grit between my toes, flesh and bone so numb it took hours for my feet to return to feeling normal. When I finally stumbled back up the path to my car, my heart still ached and my cheeks were covered with salty water of my own making. I found an empty car park and slept fitfully until morning.

  JACK

  I was back at work the next day, trying to concentrate on the job but my brain was elsewhere. Amy had left at some point the night before, leaving behind nothing but her imprint on the pillow and her scent on my body. I was worried about her. She had had been so upset the night before and whatever her day was going to bring was going to be difficult for her to deal with. I wondered if she had gone to her flat last night, but it was the nagging feeling in my gut that she hadn’t that kept me from focusing. I was filling the freezers with packets of vegetables when someone slapped me on the back.

  “Jack, you cunt! Where’ve you been hiding,” Lee said in his usual brash way. Someone tutted further down the aisle and I cringed.

  “Keep your voice down,” I hissed and clipped him around the ear.

  “What?”

  “I’m not even going to waste my breath,” I said, trying to sound serious but grinning with it. Lee was decked out head to toe in sports gear, clutching a basket full of beers and crisps. Sundays at his house always descended into alcohol/sport induced anarchy.