Vandal

by Carian Cole

  “That girl who was here gave him to you?”

  “Yeah. She volunteers at some pet rescue or something. I don’t really pay attention.”

  “Why would she give you a blind kitten?” I wonder again if maybe something is going on between them. Giving someone a pet is kind of an intimate gift.

  He fills two plates with rice and chicken and carries them over to the table. “She thought he would help me. At least, that’s what she said.”

  “Help you with what?”

  “Grief, I think. Go sit down.” I know he’s dismissing the conversation to avoid talking about it. I want him to tell me who he’s grieving and how long it’s been for him. I want to dig deep into him, as he plans to do to me. I wonder if he feels the endless agony of loss that I do and if it tears his heart out every time he thinks of her.

  I want to know if he views the future as an empty pit of darkness like I do now.

  Vandal

  She’s staring off into space and doesn’t even look at me when I sit down at the table. From the expression in her eyes I can tell she’s thinking about him. Not me. She’s slipped away from me again, even without walking off.

  I cut the chicken on her plate into small pieces. “Your eyes should always be on me when I enter the room,” I tell her. “And I should be the only man you think about.”

  She turns her head suddenly, as if she just realized I was there. “Huh?”

  “I’m telling you what I expect and need.”

  She nods absently and looks down at her plate. “Thank you for making dinner.”

  “Don’t thank me until you try it.”

  She smiles a little and takes a bite. I like watching her mouth as she chews and swallows. There are so many things I want to do with her mouth.

  “This is delicious.” She takes another bite. “I haven’t eaten real food in so long.”

  “What have you been eating?”

  She shrugs her tiny shoulders. “Coffee and crackers. Sometimes a milkshake.”

  I have to laugh at her answer. “Coffee, crackers and milkshakes?” I repeat. “That’s the most bizarre combo of food I’ve ever heard.”

  “I lost my lust for food when Nick died.”

  Christ. The accident I caused forced this girl into starving herself. Just great.

  “What do you usually like to eat?” I ask.

  “Hmmm … vanilla lattes, chocolate mousse, salad, homemade chicken noodle soup, cookies, pumpkin ice cream—”

  “Whoa, what? Did you say pumpkin ice cream?” I almost choke on my food.

  She nods and takes a sip of water. “Yup. It’s amazing.”

  “It sounds disgusting.”

  “Dude, you have to try it. I could eat it forever.”

  “Don’t call me dude. Maybe we’ll get some if you’re good.”

  She almost squeals with happiness over that. Who knew ice cream would be the thing to finally get some real happiness out of her?

  “What do you like?” She tilts her head at me as she waits for my answer, and I love how she’s looking at me as if she really wants to hear what I’m going to say. I chew my food and swallow while I think.

  “To eat?”

  “Yeah … or anything else you want to tell me.”

  I cut up some more chicken and think about how I want to answer her. “As far as food goes, I like meat and vegetables. I’m not into all that sweet stuff you mentioned. I like rough sex, fast cars, loud bikes, pain, music, ink, and little blondes on their knees.”

  She almost spits her food out. “Well, that’s an interesting list,” she says.

  “Your turn.”

  “My list is much more boring than yours. I like soft music, reading, art, angels, nature, photography … and big long-haired guys with control issues.” She says the last part with a shy smile that fuckin’ makes my heart leap. I put my fork down and push my plate away.

  “Come over here,” I command.

  She blinks at me. “What?”

  I grab her hand, tug her until she stands, and pull her onto my lap.

  “I thought we were eating.” The slight nervousness in her voice fuels the fire growing in me.

  My hand is already down her pants, seeking the heat between her legs. “You’re going to be dessert.” I lift her up effortlessly and sit her on the table in front of me, yanking the sweatpants and panties off her, spreading her legs wide.

  “Are you crazy? We can’t do this on the dining room table—”

  I lift her legs onto my shoulders and lap at her open pussy, immediately shutting her up. Her head falls back, knocking her water over. She tries to sit up and I push her down, keeping my hand in the middle of her chest to keep her still. I caress her soft folds with my tongue and suck her clit into my mouth, gently biting. She squirms and pushes her hips up against my face. She gets turned on so quickly, I’m going to have to teach her to slow down and savor every moment. I grab her hand and guide it down between her legs, coaxing her to touch herself. She pulls away but I hold her wrist there until she catches on and starts to finger herself as I plunge my tongue deep into her. Her legs tighten around my neck and I stop moving, and let her fuck herself on my tongue while her fingers rub her clit. I feel her coming instantly and grab her hips, pulling her half off the table and pushing my tongue deeper into her. She yanks at my hair. “Stop! Please … I can’t take anymore,” she begs.

  I pull her back onto my lap, her legs spread over my waist.

  “You’re delicious. Much better than pumpkin ice cream,” I tease. Her face is flushed, her hair sticking to her damp forehead.

  “You’re exhausting. I’ve had more orgasms in the past twenty-four hours than I’ve had in a year.” She quickly covers her mouth and closes her eyes, shaking her head back and forth as the words leave her lips and she tries to move off me. I put my hands on her waist and hold her.

  “Don’t do that,” I say, noticing the tears brimming in her eyes. She looks away from me. “You don’t have to feel guilt for enjoying what we do.”

  “I shouldn’t have said that … it’s disrespectful to him.”

  Once again I lift her chin to look at me. “One, don’t break eye contact with me. And two, I want you to say whatever you’re thinking. You’re allowed to feel. I need you to feel.”

  She’s quiet for a few moments and plays with my necklace, turning it over in her fingers.

  “I’ve never been fucked on a table before.”

  “You still haven’t been. I licked you, but I didn’t fuck you.”

  She gives me a crooked smile. “Same thing.”

  “Not at all. I can demonstrate the differences if you want.”

  “No! Jesus.” She chews her lip and peeks up at me. “I’ve … you know … more than you have, though.”

  Fuck she’s adorable. “Gotten off?” I say.

  Her cheeks redden and she nods. “Yes.”

  “I’m not keeping a scorecard, babe. If I want to make you come, I’m going to. If I want to get off, trust me, you will know it. If you want it, just ask. Is that what you’re hinting at? Do you want to get me off?”

  “No … I just didn’t want you to be mad at me that you haven’t.”

  I slide my hands under her shirt to cup her breasts. “I’m not one of those guys who thinks just because he gets a chick off that she owes him one back. The fun for me is making you come, watching you squirm, hearing you moan, tasting you, making you obey me and pushing your boundaries.” I roll her nipples between my fingers as I talk and watch her eyes flutter closed.

  My cell phone vibrates in my pocket. What the fuck? Why can’t people leave me alone for one fucking day? I let out a frustrated sigh and pull it out to check the screen. It’s Lukas. Tabi groans a little when I put the phone to my ear.

  “Hey,” I answer, knowing if I don’t talk to him he’ll psycho call me for hours until I prove I’m alive.

  “Hey man, how’s it going?” he asks casually.

  “Just relaxing.”

&n
bsp; “Good. Evie called me—”

  I blow out a breath. “What the fuck. She has such a big mouth.”

  “She said you had a girl up there?”

  “Is there a problem with that?”

  “Not at all. I’m glad you’re getting some. I was just surprised to hear.”

  “She’s staying with me for a few weeks.”

  “Shit. That’s not like you.”

  “Call it therapy.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Nope.”

  “Are you doing okay otherwise? Sobering up?”

  “Actually, the deal was she would stay if I don’t drink, so there’s your answer.”

  “I like her already. Maybe me and Ivy can come up next week and hang out?”

  I knew this shit was coming. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for a double-date, Lukas. Not sure she is either.” I watch her face as I talk, my free hand slowly roaming over her body.

  Lukas continues, “Call me in a few days and let me know. I’ll bring some steaks, we can hang out and jam a little, build a bonfire …”

  Ugh. “I’ll think about it.” Seeing Lukas will drag me back to reality and bring me out of my Tabitha bubble. He’ll remind me of Katie and how she’s not here anymore.

  “Have you talked to Ash?” he inquires.

  “Fuck him.”

  “He’s gonna let you come back, Van. Just get your shit together.”

  “I’m working on it.” I grab the back of Tabi’s neck and pull her down for a quick kiss. “All right, man. I gotta run. I’ll call you.” I end the call before he can say anything else.

  “Who was that?”

  “My brother. He wants to bring his chick up here and do couples shit.”

  “Oh.”

  “Look … I don’t do things like that. I don’t date.”

  “I understand. I don’t want that either. What’s he like?”

  “Like me, only younger and nicer.”

  I stand and lower her to her feet, giving her a playful slap on the ass. “Clean up the table and meet me in the bedroom in half an hour.”

  “Okay …”

  ***

  I wasn’t expecting Tabi to affect me, but she is and it’s freaking me out. For a few minutes, I actually forgot who she was, and what I did. It all felt … normal. Like I’m just a normal guy and she’s just a normal chick, and we met randomly and hit it off. I wish my life could be that normal, and not the dysfunctional mess it’s always been. I’ve never gotten attached, but damn, this girl is somehow getting under my skin. In a different time, under different circumstances, she would have been perfect for me. I could have been perfect for her.

  She comes into the room forty minutes after I left her to clean up dinner. I’m actually glad she’s late, because now I can do what I’ve been itching to do. Punish her.

  “You’re late.” I’m sitting on the bed with black shorts on and nothing else, the pearls and ribbon waiting next to me.

  “I know. I played with the cat for a few minutes and took a quick shower. I had rice in my hair.”

  I cross the room and go to the closet, take out a thin foam pillow, and throw it on the floor a few feet away from the bed.

  “Undress and kneel on this.”

  She opens her mouth to protest and I put my finger to her lips. “No debates,” I say. “Undress slowly so I can enjoy it.”

  She’s trembling as she takes her clothes off in front of me, awkward and unsure of herself, showing zero confidence in how beautiful she is and the feelings she’s stirring in me. Naked, she walks to the small pillow and drops to her knees.

  I bend down next to her and put my hands on her back. “Lower your head ’til your forehead touches the floor.”

  She pops her head back up and looks over her shoulder at me. “Seriously?”

  “Stop. Do it.” I raise my voice a little, getting annoyed. I hate having to repeat myself. Hopefully she will learn that soon.

  I gently guide her into position, legs tucked beneath her, forehead on the floor, arms outstretched, palms down. Her small, thin body looks so graceful this way, like a statue. I run my hand down her spine.

  “Are you comfortable?” I ask her.

  “What do you think?”

  “Just yes or no. No bratty remarks, or this will be way worse for you and a lot of fun for me.”

  She sighs into the carpet. “Yes.”

  “We’re going to start doing this the right way, now. Any time you want me to stop, and I mean really stop, you use your safe word and everything stops. If you’re restrained, you have to be still and calm after saying the word so I can release you without you getting hurt. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going into this willingly, and do you trust me to take care of you?”

  “Yes.” She fidgets on the floor. I gently caress her back. “Just relax your body and your mind. Don’t stiffen up.”

  “I’m trying to.” Her shoulders relax and she unclenches her fingers.

  “I know, and you’re doing great. You look fucking beautiful. You have no idea what seeing you like this does to me.” I plant a kiss on the middle of her spine and watch goose bumps sprinkle over her flesh.

  I feel like a kid in a toy store. There are so many things I want to do with her and say to her, and have her do to me. It’s almost overwhelming. I’ve fantasized about someone like her for more than ten years, and thought it would always be just an unattainable fantasy. And now here she is, on my floor, open to me. If only this could last, but I know better. It will end … and it will end badly.

  “From now on, I don’t want you to shower unless you ask me first. I want to bathe you myself sometimes.” Bathing is part of the bonding and after-care process, and one of the parts that I’m most looking forward to with her. I have a desire to care for her that I’ve never felt with another woman.

  She turns her head on the floor and blows her hair out of her face to look at me. “Dude, really?”

  Her sarcasm completely severs my mood, like having ice thrown on me, and pulls me out of the scene.

  “Ya know what? Fuck it. Get up.”

  I stand and grab the pearls and ribbon and throw them into the nightstand drawer.

  “Just go to bed,” I say, angrily. “I’ll take you home tomorrow.”

  I leave her sitting there and go out to the living room, seething mad and disappointed. The universe is obviously punishing me for my sins, constantly getting in the way of any happiness I begin to feel. It just doesn’t happen, no matter what fucking I do. I should have never gone near her; every part of it is wrong on so many fucking levels. I just want her so damn much that I let it cloud over everything else.

  Fuck. I want to cut myself wicked bad, and I have no razors here. I lean my head into my hands. Ever since the accident, my brain feels as if it’s trying to claw its way out of my skull when I get mad or stressed out. I want to rip my own fucking head off right now.

  “Are you okay?” Her voice is tiny and soft but still startles me. I didn’t even hear her come into the room. She touches my head carefully. “Are you sick?”

  “Just go away. We’re not doing this.”

  I lean back on the couch and try to focus on her in the dark room. She’s still completely naked, and is standing way too close to me.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and then kneels on the floor in front of me and clasps her hands behind her back. “I know I’m a sarcastic brat. It’s how I deal with things when I’m upset or scared. I didn’t mean to disrespect you.”

  “Please, just go to bed.” I can’t stand having her like this in front of me. She makes me feel as if I’m going to lose my fucked-up mind.

  “I … I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with you. I promise I’ll be better. Don’t make me leave.”

  My heart speeds up, and anticipation kicks in upon hearing those words. “Do you mean that? Do you know what you’re saying?”

  “Yes.”

  “You
can’t play with me. This is serious for me … for both of us. It’s not a fucking game.”

  “I know, and I don’t want it to be. I did some web research on my cell phone while you were at the store. I’ve read books about this sort of thing. I understand what it is. I’m just scared.”

  “I know you are. I am too.” I let one brick out of my wall and pray she doesn’t destroy me with it.

  “Can I kiss you?” Fuck me. She’s asking for permission.

  “No,” I answer, even though I want her kiss more than I want to breathe. “Turn around and bend over the coffee table.”

  Disappointment crosses her face but she silently turns and does exactly as I ask, bending over the low table and resting her forehead against it, her hands still clasped behind her, her beautiful ass offered to me. I run my hands slowly down her ribs, over her hips, and further down to squeeze her tight, round ass. I want to ram my cock into her and make her scream my name so badly that it’s making my entire body ache just holding back from ravishing her.

  Go slow. Go slow.

  I slide my finger between her cheeks all the way down to her lips, parting them and feeling her wetness. She wants this. Maybe just as much as I do.

  I lift my hand and bring it down on her ass cheek with a smack. Not as hard as I’ve done to others in the past, but enough to make her jump and gasp.

  “Will you listen to me from now on and not be a brat?” I ask her.

  “Yes.” We both know she’s lying, but that’s okay.

  I smack her other cheek and she jumps again.

  “You sure?”

  She turns her face to the side, her cheek resting against the table.

  “I’m positive. I need you to help me. I don’t want to be numb anymore.”

  I rub my hands over her ass cheeks, soothing the sting for her. “Me either, baby.”

  I really wanted to tie her up with the six feet of fake pearl strings I bought, but seeing her like this, I decide to put that off and stay in this moment.

  I quickly take my clothes off and get on my knees behind her, pushing her and the coffee table forward to give me more room. I rub the head of my cock against her lips, teasing her and letting her wetness mix with my precum, lubing us both. I slide into her slowly, letting her adjust to me so I don’t hurt her. I close my eyes and savor the feeling of being inside her, the sounds of her mewing and sighing the only noises in the dark room. Grabbing her hips, I pull out and then plunge full force back into her, my balls slapping against her thighs. She lets out a whimper and puts her hands on the table to steady herself as I thrust in and out of her tight sex.