Black Sheep

by Tabatha Vargo

  “Take it back, Tyson. Admit that I’m nothing like a sister to you. Admit that you think about me the way I think about you. That you touch yourself while you think about me the same way I touch myself and think about you.”

  I felt the blush on my cheeks, but I kept pressing and pulling on his shirt, afraid that once he slipped from my room, he’d never come near me again. I’d gone too far. I’d touched him and said things I could never take back.

  “I’m in love with you, Tyson. I have been since the very first moment I saw you.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered, his fingers going to his silky black strands once more.

  “Did you hear me?” I asked desperately. “I said I…”

  His large hand went over my mouth briefly before he tugged it away and rubbed his palms together. He peered down at me with an expression I’d never seen pass over his face before. He looked desperate and afraid, like he was genuinely scared of me.

  I’d never seen Tyson terrified of anything.

  Never.

  “I never thought I’d say these things to you, but here I am.” I held my arms up. I moved closer, molding myself to his large frame in a brave move I never thought I’d use. He pulled away, pressing himself into the wall as if I had poison slathered all over my skin.

  His breath pushed from his body hard and loud as his midnight eyes moved over my face with insecurity and a host of other emotions that had no authority on such a dark and demanding creature.

  “What if this were our last time together, Tyson? What if I got on that plane and never came back to you? Wouldn’t you want me to know how you really feel? Wouldn’t you want me—”

  His mouth crashed against mine with desperation. Whether it was desperation for a kiss he’d longed for as long as I had or to shut me up, I wasn’t sure. But what I did know was my body melted into him the way I always knew it would, and I lost myself in his kiss.

  TWO

  Tyson Payne

  HEAVEN AND HELL.

  I’d crossed the holy pinnacle and entered a place full of softness, light, and beauty, but while her hands on my skin felt like a miracle, I also felt like my flesh was being ripped from my body. Irrational fear struck me deep.

  Nicole would never hurt me—at least not physically. Mentally, she’d fucked me up over the last seven years, but she didn’t know she was doing it.

  Still, her mouth was heaven, and the devil didn’t belong in Heaven—I didn’t belong in Paradise. I knew that, but my brain ceased all functions the minute my lips touched hers. I was beyond all rational thinking.

  My lips brushed against hers.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Before I moved in for more, losing myself in her so completely, I forgot about her hands on me. I forgot she was touching my scars inside and out—soothing them and breaking them open again all at the same time. Her lips made me forget all the promises I’d made to myself over the years—made me forget about the pact I’d made with myself.

  Never touch Nicole Palmer.

  Each strike of her hot breath against my cheek was like an electric shock to my body, and I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. Her frame felt even smaller than it looked in my grasp when I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me. She was soft against my hardness, limp in my arms as she let go with me.

  I’d never felt anything like it. Usually, I pinned a girl’s arms above her head to keep her from touching me. Typically, I took control and remained in power, but when my tongue met hers, everything inside me exploded.

  Her soft, cautious touch changed, and she clawed at me like a wildcat, tugging at my shirt and pulling me to her as if she couldn’t get close enough.

  She couldn’t.

  She’d never be close enough.

  And while her sudden movements and touches were freaking me out, I wanted more.

  I wanted to feel her all around me—beneath me—inside me, lighting all the dark places where I hid my feelings for her—all the dark places where the memories and monsters lived.

  Her fingers no longer scared me … they fueled me, forcing my black memories to the forefront and allowing her to slowly destroy each one. She took away the pain and cleared my mind in the strangest, most shocking way.

  She tasted like sugar, like melted candy on my tongue as I savored her. My craving for her, the one I’d tamed over the years, grew, as I pulled her to me and thrust my hips. Seeking relief, I rubbed against her, her body feeling better than anything I’d ever felt … even with our clothes between us.

  I wanted her.

  Hell, I’d always wanted her.

  Over the years, in my mind, every girl I’d climbed inside had been Nicole.

  My Nicole.

  The only girl to ever tame me, and she was clueless about it.

  She was leaving me, and I wasn’t taking it well. I hadn’t been okay with the situation since the day she got her acceptance letter to Juilliard. She was a beautiful dancer, one with grace and limbs that went for days, but knowing she was going to New York alone left a sick feeling in my gut.

  I couldn’t be there for her. I couldn’t protect her from the sick and demented fucks in the world. I’d go wild thinking about the terrible things that could happen to her while she was hundreds of miles away from me. And while I knew how badly she wanted Juilliard, I also knew how badly I wanted her. How badly the desire to keep her safe burned through me on a daily basis.

  She reached between us, palming me through my jeans. Stopping my thoughts completely, her touch caused me to release an agonizing growl into her mouth. I’d had women … too many, actually, but none of them had ever touched me this way. Their fingers had never graced my dick, no matter how badly I wanted it. My mind would never allow it.

  It was different with Nicole.

  It had always been different with her.

  My fingers covered hers, pressing her palm harder against me as I thrust myself into her hand, seeking what I knew I could never have with her. Every second I touched her, I darkened her with my shadowed sin.

  Clarity broke through my lust and slammed into me. Tension crawled down my back, tightening my spine and making my entire body stiffen.

  It was wrong.

  Everything we were doing was wrong.

  Her mother and father had taken me in, made me a part of their perfect family, and given me a life I would’ve never gotten without them. If it weren’t for them, I would’ve grown up on the streets, begging for food with only the clothes on my back, and this was how I was repaying them.

  By touching their only daughter.

  By tainting her with my blackness.

  The broken sickness I was born with could be contagious, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was pass it to her—contaminate her perfection. If I ever climbed inside her, she’d never be the same. Her light … I’d extinguish it, bringing her into my darkness. That was the last thing I wanted since Nicole’s light had always been a beacon for me, leading me to do the right thing when the right thing was the last thing I wanted to do.

  Bad decisions were in my blood—passed down from a father who ruined me—and touching Nicole was the worst decision I’d ever made. The addiction was instant, and I knew one day I’d overdose on her. Just like my father and his heroin except with more pleasure and more pain.

  I pulled back, my body and heart feeling her loss the second I pushed her away.

  “Fuck!” I cursed, as I gasped and rubbed roughly at my lips, trying to rid myself of her taste.

  I’d never be able to walk away with her flavor on my lips. My craving would never let it happen.

  She moved toward me, and I held my hand out to keep her away. I was too weak for her. I’d always been too weak for her.

  Her big blue eyes stared up at me, full of trust and lust. Her white blond hair spilled from her bun, curtaining her beautiful face and skimming her flawless skin. She was everything, and I was nothing. The two could never mix.

  Rage and disgust slammed int
o me.

  How could I touch her?

  How could I taint her perfection with my sin?

  “That shouldn’t have happened,” I breathed, trying to catch the air she’d stolen away from me.

  “Why not?” she asked, her cheeks flushed and her lips reddened from my rough kisses.

  I hated myself for marring her delicate flesh with my touch. She was too good, too perfect for anyone, especially me.

  “Because I don’t want you that way!” I yelled, not thinking of who else could hear our conversation.

  It was the biggest fucking lie I’d ever told, and that included the lie about my father accidentally overdosing.

  She stiffened as if I’d smacked her in the face. Her soft blue eyes widened with shock, and I had a front-row seat to the hurt that seeped into her expression when my words struck her conscience.

  “But … you want me. I felt it in my hand. I felt it in the way you kissed me.”

  I laughed, even though it was the last thing in the world I felt like doing. Truth be told, I wanted to scream in aggravation. Cry in physical pain as my body throbbed for her and repelled her touch at the same time.

  “I’m a guy, Nicole. I have a cock,” I said bluntly. “It doesn’t take much to get me hard. That would’ve happened with anyone.”

  “Are you trying to say I have no effect on you whatsoever? That you don’t care about me at all?”

  She was on the verge of tears and seeing her respond that way felt like a kick in the balls. I never wanted to hurt Nicole. I never wanted to do anything but protect her and admire her from afar. Set her on a pedestal and worship her from beneath.

  “Of course, I care about you. I told you, I’d do anything to protect you.”

  It was the truth.

  I’d do anything for her.

  Anything.

  “Like a sister, though, right?” Her voice cracked with unshed tears, and I had to force myself to stay put instead of going to her and holding her to me.

  I nodded, the lie slipping from my tongue like it was nothing. “Yes. Like a sister.”

  Even saying it made me feel dirtier than I already felt. I’d crawled on disgusting floors as a child. I’d eaten the trash of others. Even thinking of Nicole as anything but the woman I craved made me feel filthy, as if I was rotting from the inside out.

  What kind of man longed for his sister?

  Craved her so harshly that nothing in life felt good anymore.

  There was no pleasure.

  There was no joy.

  There was only the sweet, agonizing ache of wanting something I could never have.

  She’d never be like a sister.

  Never.

  She was so much more than family—than blood—than life.

  Finally, a tear escaped and rushed down her flushed cheek. I moved to wipe it away, but for once, she was the one pushing me away, leaving me feeling crushed inside.

  “No,” she croaked. “Just stay away from me.”

  She moved to her bed and slammed her suitcase closed, trapping the overflowing clothes inside.

  “Nicole,” I muttered, somehow knowing I’d lost her for good.

  Something had shifted in our unique relationship, and she was going to pull away from me in the way I’d always hoped she would.

  I wasn’t good enough.

  I’d never be good enough for her.

  No one would be.

  She didn’t respond.

  Instead, she hefted her large suitcase onto the floor and pulled up the handle so she could roll it around.

  Her tears had dried, and her broken expression smoothed into one of cool resolve.

  “See you at Thanksgiving,” she said as she waltzed by me and out into the hallway.

  She left me alone in her room with only the sounds of her suitcase thumping against the stairs as she took them one by one, leaving me behind like the nothing that I was.

  It was what I’d always wanted. Over the years, she’d made it damn near impossible to stay away with her sweet smiles and lusty looks. I knew what she wanted. I’d always known. I also knew I wanted the same, but I’d never let that happen. I’d never curse her with all that I was. I was black trash, and she was white, incandescent light. I was hell, and she was heaven, and I’d never drag her down with me.

  Never.

  Ten minutes later, when I went downstairs, I was met with silence. Nicole and her dad had already left for the airport, but I could hear Mrs. Palmer in the kitchen.

  I went into the room and stood in the doorway as she moved around the kitchen, scrubbing the spotless counters like she did when she was upset or nervous about something.

  “Well, she’s gone,” she said with a stiff grin. Her graying hair was pinned in its usual bun, but a few stressed strands had escaped down the back of her neck. “My baby’s off to school—off to the big city without me.” Her voice broke, and I could tell she was holding back tears.

  She stopped scrubbing the counters to look up at me. Her eyes were an exact match to Nicole’s—beautiful—knowing. She was the perfect definition of the word mother, and I was blessed to have her in my life.

  “I couldn’t go with them, Tyson. I couldn’t watch her leave us.” Her eyes watered, and she quickly turned away to scrub the counter behind her.

  I nodded, understanding her.

  Donald and Connie Palmer were amazing parents. Thanks to them, the Palmers were a close family, one that I’d grown to love over the years. They took me in when I had nowhere else to go. They fed me and clothed me when I had nothing, and they accepted me and my flaws. I’d never forget the peace and happiness the Palmers brought into my life. Because of them, I had Nicole, and because of me, I’d lost her.

  THREE

  Nicole

  “ENJOY YOUR THANKSGIVING! I’ll see you Sunday,” Amber yelled from the cab window as they drove off.

  New York looked good on her. Already, she’d dyed her hair an auburn tone. Her roommate was a bit of a hair and makeup connoisseur, so her eyebrows were done and she had color on her face. Amber was never one to overdo things like that. She looked nice—put together and flawless. Meanwhile, I looked like hot garbage. The flight had been terrible, and the airport had lost one of my bags.

  Amber was full of energy, and I was dragging. The only plus side to traveling home with her was we had time to sit and chat while on the plane and in the back of the cab. We thought we’d have time to hang out once we’d settled in New York, but the reality was both of our schedules were packed. We rarely saw each other, and other than a quick phone conversation here and there, we barely talked.

  I missed her.

  Autumn mums lined the sidewalk to the front door. Mom’s wind chimes played their beautiful music in the November breeze, and the smell of fresh mulch reached my senses as I made my way toward the front door. A cornucopia full of fake fall flowers was hanging on the front door, and the seasonal flag Mom switched out every few weeks waved in the wind, rippling a smiling cartoon turkey.

  The front door was unlocked, so I pushed it open and stepped into the warmth of my childhood home.

  “I’m home!” I called out as I dropped my heavy bag by the front door with a thump.

  Even though we talked almost every day, I hadn’t seen my family since I left for school. I missed them like crazy and suffered the worst case of homesickness ever, which was why I showed up a day early for Thanksgiving to surprise them.

  Thanksgiving recess was usually only four days or so, but Amber was leaving earlier, and I wasn’t keen on traveling alone. Thankfully, I’d managed to get away since the faculty was also ready to start their holiday. I snagged a ticket on the same flight to Charleston as Amber, paid for it with the emergency credit card, and was packed and ready in an hour.

  The house was silent as I slipped through the foyer taking in the pumpkins and scarecrows Mom decorated with every fall. The smell of pumpkin spice billowed from her tart warmers, reminding me of all the family holidays from years befo
re. The holiday season had always been my favorite.

  Each room was empty as I passed it. I had at least expected Brian, my little brother, to be in the living room playing Xbox. After school, that’s usually where you could find him. He’d be on the couch with snacks scattered around him as he yelled into the mic attached to his headphones and lived in a virtual world, but the living room was empty, as well. It seemed the entire house was.

  Then I heard running water in the kitchen, and I smiled with excitement to see my mom. I turned around and started toward the back of the house with a skip in my step, but as soon as I walked into the kitchen, I came to an abrupt stop. I was expecting my mom, but instead, it was Tyson.

  He was standing at the kitchen sink washing his hands with his back to me. He was naked from the waist up, his muscled shoulders flexing with his every move. There was motor oil smeared across his shoulder and his body glistened with sweat.

  My eyes moved down his spine, taking in the random scars and some new ink, making my mouth water with want. He looked sexier than usual. Probably because I hadn’t seen him in three months. I missed him. I missed his smug grins and sarcastic remarks.

  My eyes landed on the small of his back before shifting across his ass. Tyson had an amazing ass. I’d always thought so, but somehow, it looked even better with his loose jeans hanging from it. Secretly, I cursed his belt for holding them up so well.

  Then I remembered the last time we were in a room alone together. The embarrassment of throwing myself at him only to have him push me away left a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t look him in the eye, knowing how pitiful I’d been, but before I could flee the moment, the water shut off, and he turned around.

  His eyes clashed with mine, and I saw the tiny moment when they widened. I’d surprised him.

  “Tyson.” His name came out whispered, as if I was praying to him in the silence of my own bedroom.

  I swallowed hard, pushing the nerves down to keep them from choking me.

  He looked different—older—more weathered. He turned away, breaking the hold on me, and rubbed his hands into the towel to dry them.