Beyond Touched

by Ashley Logan

  “That’s what I was trying to tell you with the kiss! I told you I’m no good at this. You have superhero good looks and I love the way you make me feel when I’m with you. You’re so gentle and respectful and you make me come so easily. How could I not like that?” she says, taking hold of my face again so I can’t avoid her eyes. “Are you pulling away because you don’t want me? Now that you know everything?”

  Glaring at her, I shift slightly beneath her. “Does it feel like I don’t want you, Alexa?”

  Moving against my hard length she shivers. Her eyelids flicker as her head tilts back slightly. “I want you too,” she whispers as her head tilts forward and she kisses me again. “What does that make me?” she whispers against my lips before pressing her forehead to mine.

  “Amazing,” I reply, kissing her softly and moaning as she moves against my dick again. “I should go home,” I mumble against her lips.

  Pulling back in a rush, Alexa stares at me and covers her lips.

  “If we keep going, you’re going to get sick of me and I’m going to miss another day of classes,” I try to explain. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I think that we should wait a while before we have sex again.”

  Looking confused, and then upset, Alexa opens her mouth to speak, but closes it again as her eyes glaze with a sheen of tears. I shake my head and continue, rushing to explain.

  “I want you. Believe me, I do. But I think that maybe we should start again and take things slowly. We moved so quickly. It’s not surprising we got in a tangle. I want to see you. Tomorrow - if that’s not too soon for you. After classes and your math lesson, can I please take you out on a date?”

  “A date?” she asks, as if the word is foreign.

  “I want to spend time with you that isn’t confused by sexual feelings that you can’t place. The easiest way to do that is to take sex out of the equation. We can put it back in when we’re ready. It’s just an idea. If you don’t want to try it, I’m sure I’ll enjoy that too. I just thought it might be healthier to take it one step at a time; even though we already jumped straight into the deep end and I loved it. Shit. Why am I suggesting this?” I ask as I pull my eyes away from her gorgeous face to stare at the ceiling, which only increases the sensation of her hot little body straddling my straining erection.

  Climbing off me, Alexa pulls me up to standing and hops up onto her bed to kiss me on the nose. “I think it’s because you love me. I can appreciate that. What time do you want to come over tomorrow for our study date, and what time is our actual date, because some of us have to work.”

  “I’ll be finished class at three and I’ll come over to study as soon after that as you’ll have me. As for our actual date, it will depend what you have time for. We could do dinner before you dance, or go to a movie after you dance, or we could stay in and play cards, or you could play some guitar, or we could go dancing, though I don’t think you’ll be able to keep up with me, because I’m very good.”

  “Is that right?”

  Unable to keep from returning her smile, I shake my head. “Not at all. But I’d try really hard not to stand on your feet.”

  “How do you hold a hand of cards?”

  “I pay someone else to hold them.”

  Alexa raises an eyebrow at me.

  “I have a system.”

  “I’m sure you do. You seem to have a system for everything.”

  “I do okay.”

  “Are you going to watch me dance?”

  Taking a deep breath, I think about that seriously. “It might be torturous to watch and not be able to follow through, but I think I’d still like to. Is that alright?”

  “So long as you know it’ll be just as torturous dancing for you when I know there’ll be no relief afterward.”

  “So it’s settled?”

  Stroking my beard under my chin, Alexa delivers a soft, sweet kiss to my lips. “Let the torture begin.”

  Groaning, I tuck my dick away and take a step back. “I’m going to go now. You can text me or call me anytime. I’m not good at texting, but I can call if you want me to, and I can email from home, if you want to have a conversation without saying things out loud.”

  “You’re very good at considering all the options.”

  “It’s a hobby.” Groaning again, I shake my head. “It’s not. I just can’t turn it off. I love you, and I’m definitely going before I do or say anything else that might impair the fragile progress we’ve made.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ALEXA

  “Read ‘em and weep, Alexa Carrington.” Using his stumps to pluck the cards from his toes, Damon lays them out on the floor of the study.

  “Competitive much?” I ask, closing the fan of cards in my hand before I’ve even been able to take a turn.

  Grinning, Damon begins flipping his cards face down. “Maybe a little.”

  “Well considering I didn’t even get an opportunity to play, and my suspicions about you dealing straight from the pack without shuffling the cards, I don’t think you should be too proud. My deal,” I say, taking the pack and spreading them out on the floor to mess them thoroughly. Just before I gather them back in, I notice Damon watching me with a very distracting look on his face. Maybe we should have played cards before I danced downstairs.

  “Everything okay?” I ask as his eyes drop to the cards all over the floor and his smile widens. Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “I know. I shuffle like a child. I never learned the real way.”

  “Well it’s not something I can teach you,” he says as his smile twitches at the side. “But I kind of like that we shuffle the same way.”

  Gathering the cards back into a stack, I smile back at him. I kind of like that too.

  “Want to stick with rummy now that the deck is properly mixed?”

  “Is that a challenge? Or are you trying to move on to a new game because you’re wary of my rummy prowess?”

  Laughing, I shake my head and deal the cards. “Once I grind your rummy prowess into the ground, you can choose the next game.”

  Narrowing his eyes at me, he drags his hand towards him and begins arranging it between his toes.

  “Do you think if you hold your cards like that it’s still called a hand? Or would you call it a foot?” I wonder aloud.

  “Have you ever noticed that people might say that there’s trouble afoot, and that it could also mean it was at hand?” he asks, picking up the card I just threw out and adding it to his cards before throwing out a five.

  “The trouble could also be ahead, so someone might need to get abreast of the situation,” I say, picking up his discarded five and laying down my winning hand. “You want to stick with rummy?”

  With the biggest smile I’ve seen today, Damon shakes his head. “You choose a game. I’m still thinking about getting a breast and it’s clouding my judgment. I can’t think of a game beyond strip poker. Maybe I shouldn’t watch you dance before we spend time alone together.”

  Pressing my lips together to keep from laughing, I nod and collect his cards. “I confess that I had been thinking along similar lines on all counts. Should we settle on poker with our clothes on?”

  Exhaling roughly, Damon clears his throat and nods for me to start dealing.

  “Just so you know,” he says, scratching his beard, “I really like the way your mind works.”

  “And I yours. You want to play for buttons? There’s a huge jar of them in the cupboard.”

  Considering me carefully as I deal, he crosses his arms. “Yes. I think I do want to play for buttons. This cupboard?” he asks, standing up and moving to one of the built-in closet doors.

  “Next one. Middle-ish shelf.”

  Managing easily to open the door, Damon moves a few board games and the sewing kit aside to pull out the big pickling jar full of buttons.

  “Why so many?” he asks, making his way back over. “Is it a stripper thing? You guys collect up the buttons after you rip your clothes off?”

 
Laughing, I shake my head. “Have you seen our dancing? There is no ripping.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he says, setting the jar between his feet to hold it steady as he twists the lid. Tipping a pile of buttons on the floor, he starts separating colors. “You dance like... I don’t even know how to describe it. But, I like it a lot.”

  “Thanks.” Moving next to him, I help with the sorting. We reach for the same red button and my fingers touch his stump. Damon pulls it away quickly and reaches for a different button.

  “Did I hurt you?” I ask at the same time as he says, “Did you always know that upside-down was sexy?”

  Snorting, I find myself laughing again. “What?”

  “Upside-down,” he repeats, looking up from his pile of blue buttons. “I didn’t know it was sexy until I saw you go there. It was a revelation.”

  Smiling, I add a handful of white buttons to the growing pile. “Madame Jermaine used to let a circus group rent her studio once a week. I was always there, because I lived in the back room at the time. I thought they were sexy too. And strong. It seemed like something I needed to be at the time, so I asked if I could train with them. They didn’t mind me joining in - though I suspect that was because Madame knocked down their rent to pay for my lessons. She denied it, but knowing her, she totally did.”

  “And now you teach there?”

  “Once a week usually, but I’ve been helping out more of late, because Madame is recovering from a broken hip and a bout of pneumonia. Her assistant Janine can’t run all the classes, so I fill in her gaps. Which reminds me, I’m busy tomorrow afternoon, so we’ll have to re-schedule our study session. Is that okay?”

  “Can I give you a ride home after?” he asks, as if I might say no.

  “If you want. I’ll be finished at five and I’d like to see you.”

  Damon smiles and turns back to his buttons. “This should be enough,” he says, returning the pile of unsorted buttons to the jar by tilting the jar down and sweeping them back in. I start dividing the red, white, and blue buttons into equal shares.

  “Very patriotic color scheme you’ve chosen.”

  “Well I did sign up to fight for my country,” he says with a small sigh. “Though truth be told it was because I had a particular interest in... stuff I can’t talk about, and there was an opportunity to use my... scientific mind.”

  “You didn’t think of staying?” I ask, looking up from the buttons. “After the fireball? Your scientific mind still seems intact.”

  “It wasn’t for a while,” he says quietly. “And I still hold too much resentment to want to be helpful. It’s a more quiet tantrum of mine. And I’ve moved on to better things now anyway,” he says with genuine certainty. “I really love teaching.”

  “And you are so very good at it,” I say with a smile as I scoop his pile of buttons toward him and scrape mine towards me. “Shall we begin?”

  “Whites are ones, blues are fives, and reds are worth ten?”

  “Works for me.”

  After a dozen hands, I’m down but not by a huge amount. Damon likes to take risks and bet big, which pays well and keeps him happy until I slowly win it back. I’ve been using the time to find out his tell, and now I have him right where I want him. I’m just waiting for the right hand.

  “I’m gonna get all your but-tons,” he says in a teasing sing-song voice.

  “Do you always celebrate when you get to almost?” I ask, playing it cool. “Most people wait until they’ve actually won before they start.”

  “As Bruno would say, ‘don’t be jelly’. I’m sure we’re both ready for this to end, so this can be the last hand. You’ve done well to hold on for this long, but the time has come to let go.”

  “Are you complimenting me?” I ask, picking up my hand and frowning. “It feels a lot like you’re insulting me. Dealer takes two.”

  “I’ll take one,” he says with the cocky smile I’ve come to associate with his bluff. Taking up his fresh card, he pushes a few buttons into the space between us. “I’m celebrating, because I’m thinking about how much fun I’ll have when we do play strip poker.”

  “I think I’ll definitely beat you at strip poker,” I say, upping the ante in the pot and flipping my braid over my shoulder.

  “What makes you say that?” he says, raising me.

  “You think you’ll still be able to focus on your cards after I lose a few pieces of clothing and start leaning in when I deal?” I ask seeing him and raising him just a little.

  Staring at me, he shrugs. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see. We might have to set rules about how far a dealer can lean.” Looking back at his cards, he casts an appraising eye over me and the buttons on the table. “You’ve got to bet big to win big. All in,” he says pushing his collection of buttons into the center. “You fold?”

  “You want me to just give up? And let you win? Just like that?”

  Chewing the corner of his bottom lip, Damon watches me closely. “You’re not letting me win, if I just win. Are you telling me you’ve been going easy on me?”

  “No. I’ve been playing the game as best I know how.”

  “Then I’m all in. You fold?”

  “I think I’ll call,” I say, pushing the last of my buttons to the center. Damon views his cards as if I’m making a big mistake.

  “You’re sure?” he asks, keeping his voice calm.

  “Mmhmm. I don’t have a great hand, but I know for a fact that you’re bluffing, so I’ll take my chances.”

  “For a fact, huh?” he says, collecting his cards to reveal them. Flipping them over, he’s got nothing. “What gave me away?”

  “If I tell you, I’ll never win at strip poker,” I reply with a wink as I toss a pair of eights in front of him and pull all the buttons toward me.

  Laughing, he shakes his head. “Out-foxed again. What will you spend all of your hard-won buttons on?”

  Giving a casual shrug, I start putting them back in the jar. “I usually spend my spare change on therapy, but I won big tonight, so maybe I’ll splash out and get a pony.”

  Damon’s face drops a little at the therapy comment, but he recovers well. “You want a pony?”

  “Why? You going to get me one?” I laugh as I put the button jar away and shut the closet. When I turn around, Damon is crouched with his back facing me.

  “Climb on, you can ride me to bed.” Dropping his head, he laughs. “That came out wrong. I’m no pony, but I’d be happy for you to ride me anytime.” He laughs again. “Yeah, there’s no way I can say it differently. It’s an illness.”

  Jumping onto his back, I lean in and whisper in his ear, “I hope you never find a cure.”

  Groaning, Damon pushes up to his feet and I’m reminded of how tall he is. Wrapping my legs around him, I squeak as he rears back making horse noises and trots a circle around the study before galloping down the hall and through the kitchen.

  “Whoa horsey! Stop, stop, stop!” I cry as he’s about to head to my room. “Turn around.”

  Obeying, Damon bounces and snorts in the middle of the kitchen, pawing at the ground with his foot and making me laugh.

  “Over there. The cookie tin on the top shelf.” Trotting over, Damon waits as I raid a few oatmeal cookies from it. “Okay. Trot along now, and I’ll give you some oats.”

  “I like your sugar lumps better,” Damon says with a smile in his voice as he prances towards my bedroom.

  “There will be no sugar lumps for you tonight, Mr. Shermansky. You’re on a sugar lump diet.”

  Standing next to my bed so I can climb off his back, he turns to face me, his eyes dark and hungry as he wets his lips. “It only makes me want them more,” he says, closing his eyes as he takes a step back. “I’m going to go home now.”

  “Damon?”

  He opens one eye and I hold up a cookie. “Just because we’re not going to have sex, doesn’t mean we can’t eat cookies. And if you think you’re leaving without kissing me, you’ve got another thing coming.�
� Waving him forward, I put a cookie in his mouth. “It’s not pie, but it’s still pretty good.”

  Reaching up, Damon pushes the cookie all the way into his mouth and watches me as he chews. Ignoring the heat radiating off him and what it’s doing to my insides, I flop onto the bed and nestle into the cushions, patting the spot next to me. I’m not ready for him to leave; I need to feel him close for a while.

  Looking to the ceiling, Damon shakes his head and takes a deep breath, before coming to flop next to me.

  “Praying for strength?” I ask with a giggle as I roll towards him and prop my head on my hand.

  “I need it.”

  “Nah. You just need more cookies.” Taking a bite of one, I move the remainder to his mouth. Keeping his eyes on mine, Damon opens his mouth a little and I slide the cookie in before getting the next one. Eying it carefully, I look up to find him staring at me with that hungry look again, only now it’s as if he’s starving.

  “You want the side with the most raisins?” I whisper, unable to keep from looking at his lips. My breathing quickens and I forget about the cookie when I raise my eyes again to his. With one look, he tells me what he wants to do and asks if he can do it. I’ve barely nodded before his lips are on mine, making me wonder if my eyes told him how much I wanted this too.

  Moaning into my mouth as he kisses me, Damon brings my whole body to attention with the vibration. Needing to feel more of it, I slide over him and he lowers us deeper into the cushions so I can lie comfortably on top of him. His arms begin to rise from the bed, but instead of coming over me, he tucks them behind his head.

  Not for the first time, I wonder if I should let him touch me, just to see how it feels. The idea excites me, until the fear sets in. The fear that if I don’t like it, I will feel differently about him and won’t want him to be near me anymore.

  “Alexa?” he whispers across my lips, inducing that shiver through my body. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I whisper back. “Just thinking too much. Can you make it stop?”

  “Love to,” he says, tilting his chin up to graze his beard gently along my jaw. Sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, he runs his tongue along it. Sighing in approval, I run my hands down his sides.