Metamorphosis (Book Boyfriend Series 1)

by Erin Noelle

  He slowly continued his tantalizing treatment by trailing kisses down my stomach toward the throbbing I needed him so badly to address. Not quickly enough, he had made his way down my body and was snuggled nice and securely between my legs. I could feel his warm breath on my inner thighs, and again, I instinctively lifted my hips up to him, wanting him to abate the ache that was getting more powerful by the second.

  His mouth barely brushed against my sex and I groaned aloud. He pulled back slightly and looked up at me through his heavy lids. “You like that, angel? You want more?”

  “Please, Mase. Don’t tease me,” I begged him. “I need you. All of you.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was the please or the I need you that he couldn’t resist, but moments later, his lips crashed on my mound with such force that my hands flew straight to the back of his head. “Oh, God,” I muttered. He skillfully used a combination of his mouth and fingers to tempt and torment my already aroused and wet core. I had a strong grip on the back of his head as I shamelessly grinded against his face. I could feel the wave building, gradually at first, but soon at a rolling-out-of-control speed straight to the fire that burned deep inside me.

  “I fucking love the way you taste… like my own slice of heaven.”

  I melted at his words as he continued to unknowingly bury my sorrows with his touch. Mason grabbed a hold of my hipbones as I bucked out of control, spreading my juices on his hand and face until my body relaxed into a purely euphoric state.

  Kissing his way back up my thin frame, my body quickly came back to life, and by the time his lips reached mine, I was humming in anticipation yet again. Mason’s gray eyes sparkled down at me, full of love and affection, and for a brief moment, I felt a twinge of guilt. But when he leaned down and kissed me thoroughly on the mouth, all negative thoughts were replaced with my overwhelming need to feel wanted and loved.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Mason asked as he raised up a bit to look deep into my eyes.

  “More than anything,” I replied, nipping at his bottom lip. “Make love to me, Mason.”

  He leaned over to his nightstand and grabbed a condom out of the top drawer. He skillfully tore it open with his teeth and sheathed himself in seconds. He lowered himself back down on top of me, locking his eyes on mine again.

  “I know this is going to be uncomfortable at first. Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?” Mason instructed me. I nodded and reached up to cup his face. I was nervous, so fucking nervous, but I needed it. There was no way I was backing out.

  Nestled between my legs, I could feel the tip of his erection pressing against my slick opening. He slowly tried to work his way inside me, and I could feel my skin stretching to make room for him. It was uncomfortable but not excruciating pain like I had expected. Mason stopped moving to check on me, and after reassuring him I was fine, he continued to try to work his full length inside me. The farther he went, the more it hurt—burning, ripping, stretching. I wrapped my arms around his back and buried my head in his shoulder, biting down gingerly. I needed the physical pain. I needed it to take away all the other pain.

  “Mason, please, just get it over with,” I pleaded.

  “Are you sure?” he asked doubtfully.

  I nodded against his body. “Yes, I need you completely inside me now.”

  He pulled out the little ways he had managed to maneuver and looked at me with adoration. “I love you, Scarlett.” As he kissed me hard and possessively, devouring every inch of my mouth, and without warning, he slammed deep inside my body.

  I would’ve screamed loudly had his mouth not been covering mine, so instead, I dug my fingernails into his back. He pulled back slightly and pounded inside me again.

  “Oh shit, Scarlett,” he cried out. “You feel so fucking incredible.” He continued the strokes in and out, and after a little while, the pain had decreased quite a bit, and an aching pleasure took its place.

  “Oh, God…” I breathed, arching my back to be closer to him while my hands continued to grasp his broad back. I couldn’t get close enough to him. I had to make sure he didn’t pull away from me… make sure he didn’t reject me. I needed him to make me somewhat whole again after the last two days had shattered me into pieces. “Please, Mason,” I begged. “Don’t stop.”

  “Not a chance,” he grumbled without breaking the rhythm of his powerful thrusts. “I’m close, angel.”

  We were both silent from that point on. Only the sounds of our bodies hitting one another could be heard until I felt his big, strong body tighten up and pound into me with three long, hard, final strokes. He went limp on top of me and buried his face in my neck. We laid like that for a while before he rolled off me and onto his side. He quickly discarded the condom and rejoined me on the bed. Pulling me up against his body, his big arms completely enveloped me, and I snuggled sleepily into his chest.

  “My angel” was the last thing I remembered him saying before I passed out from full body exhaustion.

  Twenty-Nine

  It was still dark outside when I woke up, and I could hear the rain pounding relentlessly on the window. Mason was asleep on his back, and I was curled up next to him, using the nook between his chest and arm as my pillow. I moved my legs to reposition myself, and the soreness I felt between them caused me to freeze.

  The events from the previous day flooded my memory. The funeral. Evie’s parents. The tattoo. Ash. The blonde. Mason. Me. I love you. Sex. Oh shit, what did I do?

  I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping, praying it was all a bad dream. I wanted to go back seventy-two hours and redo every moment of it. I slowly opened my eyes and moved the lower half of my body again. There was no denying the tenderness from where Mason’s body had been.

  I had asked him to make love to me; I had even told him I loved him so he would without reservation. I was angry and hurt by Ash. I had felt lonely, desolate, abandoned. Mason’s touch, like always, made me feel coveted and cherished. I loved that he craved me; I needed him to love me.

  I was an awful person. I was so much worse than Ash. I lied to Mason just so I wouldn’t be alone. I was afraid I would be alone forever. My relationship with my family was estranged. The guy I thought I was in love with was fucking other girls. And my best friend, the person I had spent nearly every day of my life with for over ten years, was dead. Mason was all I had left, and because of my selfish behavior, I had ruined that too.

  Mason making love to me was wonderful. He had been so gentle, so patient. He made sure I was taken care of in every way and was only interested in giving me the perfect first time. However, despite the physical and emotional fullness I felt during those intimate moments, I had never felt emptier than when I woke up and had to face what I had done.

  I started to have a mini panic attack. My stomach knotted with anxiety, my mouth dried up, and my breathing became labored. I needed to get out of there, fast. I couldn’t deal with all of it at once. I managed to climb out of bed without waking Mason, thankful he was such a heavy sleeper. My clothes were still in a wet pile on the bathroom floor, so I put on a pair of Mason’s boxers and T-shirt I found in the dryer. I grabbed my purse and keys that had been disposed of on the bar and quietly let myself out the front door. It was still pouring rain, and by the time I reached my car, I was a freezing, wet mess once again.

  I went straight to my room to change clothes and grab a few things. I didn’t know where I was going, but I was too much of a coward to stay at Mason’s and face him. I couldn’t stay another night in this place without Evie, and I sure the hell wasn’t calling Ash. After a hot shower, I threw on the first articles of clean clothing I came across. I had desperately needed to do laundry and planned on catching up as soon as finals were over. I ended up in a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a Rice University hooded sweatshirt. I repacked my overnight back, since the previous things in it had all gotten wet. I grabbed my acoustic guitar, threw on my boots, because I couldn’t drive in wet flip-flops, and headed out the door once again.
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  Once in the car, I plugged my iPod in and prepared myself for a long drive. I just wasn’t exactly sure where to yet. The one thing I did know was that I needed to get as far away from Houston as possible, and I didn’t have any plans of returning. Ever.

  Thirty

  Eight Months Later

  It was the Friday before the fall semester was to begin, and I was headed east on I-10 toward Houston. It had been exactly a year prior that Evie and I made this exact journey, excited and eager to begin our new lives. We had both envisioned four years together to experience college and all the life-changing moments that came with it. From there, we assumed we would get good jobs, find loving husbands, have beautiful little babies, and of course, live happily ever after. But Evie’s death had changed everything.

  An old Red Hot Chili Peppers song came on the radio, and I paused my trip down memory lane to turn it up and sing along. It was one of Evie’s favorite songs; she always wanted me to play this song so she could sing it off-key and at an obnoxiously high volume. I smiled and felt the familiar tugging at my heart that I had become accustomed to when I thought about my best friend. It had taken me quite some time to get to the point of recalling old memories of Evie and not crying, and some days I still got a little teary-eyed when I thought about her, but for the most part, remembering our moments together filled me with love and gratitude.

  I began to feel jittery and nervous when I passed the sign indicating Houston was only seventy-one miles in front of me. I knew that in less than two hours, I would be in my new place with Tessa, my new roommate. We hadn’t met in person before, but we had talked on the phone a few times and Skyped once so we would recognize each other. She seemed to be a sweet girl; she had come across as pretty quiet and very focused on her pre-med studies. Quiet and studious was exactly what I needed; the decision to get another roommate was a difficult one for me, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be all buddy-buddy with whomever it was.

  At first, it had felt like I would be replacing Evie; I was so afraid of forgetting her if I moved on with my life. Eventually, with my therapist, I worked through these issues and realized I would never forget Evie; that was impossible. The best way for me to honor her memory was to keep on living, doing things she and I liked to do to together, listening to her favorite music, cooking her favorite foods.

  When I had driven out of town on that life-changing night last December, I really had no idea where I was going. I just drove and drove and drove. The sun came up and I continued to drive. The sun went down and I was still driving. Finally, after I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, I pulled off at a motel on the highway. I had no idea where I was. I was completely lost in every facet of my life—physically, mentally, and emotionally.

  I checked into a room and fell asleep within thirty seconds of lying down. I didn’t even bother taking my shoes off or getting under the covers. The next morning when I woke up, I realized I needed to first figure out where the hell I was, and then I needed to come up with some sort of plan. I wasn’t going to live in Evie’s car like a vagabond across Texas.

  I turned my phone on for the first time since I left in hopes the GPS on it would give me an indication of where I was. I wasn’t prepared for the thirty voicemails and fifty-something text messages that waited for me. When I fled Ash’s house, Meg had called Jess, who called Evie’s parents, who called my parents. All of them left messages trying to locate me and make sure I was okay. Well, I assumed Ash’s messages were similar to the others, because I refused to listen to them and deleted them before I changed my mind.

  On top of those worried about my mental state due to the death of my best friend and me walking in on Ash having sex, Mason was calling, wondering why I left without saying anything. I listened to his messages, because I felt I at least owed that to him. I deserved to hear the hurt and heartbreak in his voice, because I had selfishly deceived him, knowing it would cause him pain. In his first voicemail, he sounded confused and understanding, but by the fifth one, he was downright pissed. I couldn’t blame him for feeling betrayed and hating me. I hated me for what I did.

  Once I learned I was right outside of Lubbock, I started calling everyone back to let them know I was okay. My parents seemed bothered by the whole ordeal and told me to stop acting like a child and to return home immediately. Evie’s parents were more concerned about my entire well-being, but I assured them I had just had a minor freak-out and would be returning home later that day. I texted Meg and Jess to let them know I was okay but that I needed some time to myself. I sent Mason a text that simply said I’m sorry, but I never got a response. I had nothing to say to Ash.

  After much internal debate and soul searching over the next several weeks, I ended up taking a semester leave from Rice. The school was more than understanding about the situation with Evie and gave me up to one year to return without having to reapply. I moved in with my grandparents and focused on getting myself well. I began to see a therapist on a weekly basis and joined a support group for young adults who had lost a close friend or significant other.

  In addition to grieving Evie’s death, I also found I needed to take control and responsibility for my own life. For way too long, I used other people as a crutch to make my decisions. My parents had pushed that way of life upon me, but what I didn’t realize was that when I moved out, I had just replaced them with Evie. It had taken months and months of treatment and rehabilitation, but finally my healing process had reached a place where I felt comfortable getting back to my life. It was important to me to return to Rice and get my degree. That had been a huge goal of Evie’s, and now I owed it to her, to both of us, to fulfill that dream of ours.

  So exactly one year later, I found myself pulling up in the same parking lot, preparing myself for my second chance at my life. I jumped out of my car, grabbed my suitcase, and hurried to my room. I had gotten a late start leaving my grandparents, and it was already dark outside. I wanted to get unpacked quickly so I could shower and change. I wanted to look my best for what I planned to do that night. I had no idea of what kind of reception I could expect.

  It was after midnight when I finally pulled up to the familiar warehouse, the parking lot packed, which I assumed it would be. Most students were getting back in town this week, and everyone was looking to go out and party before school started up again. I had not texted nor talked to either Ash or Mason since I left. I had changed my number within a week of the meltdown, so I wasn’t sure if either of them tried to contact me or not.

  Eight months. It had been eight months, and I was nervous as hell to see either of them, much less both of them at the same time. However, I knew they were both there. I saw Ash’s car when I pulled in, and Mason’s bike was parked up by the door. I knew there was a good chance they were both probably there with someone else, and I vowed to myself to not make a scene. I wasn’t looking to cause any problems. I had come to say my piece, and when I was finished, I would accept whatever response or reaction they had.

  I had prepared myself for anything—they could ignore me and not give me the time of day or they could go bat-shit crazy screaming at me about what a bitch I was. Whatever happened, I knew I needed to do this.

  I had hoped for a large crowd; it was easier to hide myself in all of the people. I wanted to have a drink for a bit of liquid courage before going through with my plan. I found a seat at the bar farthest from where Mason and his crew usually sat next to a couple of other girls. I kept my eyes downward at the bar as I sipped my beer; I did not want to make eye contact with anyone in case it was someone I knew or who recognized me.

  There was a girl up on stage I remembered from when I used to hang out here. She had a beautiful voice and was equally talented with the keyboard. I knew she was usually slotted close to the end of the lineup on open mic Fridays, so I wouldn’t have to wait long. When she was finished, the announcer introduced the next musician as a guy at the back of the stage area began walking forward. If I thought I was prepared to se
e Ash again, I was wrong. I sucked in a deep breath as a wave of emotions crashed over me. There he stood, in all his glorious surf-bum wonder, dressed in his signature khaki cargos, button-down guevara shirt, and flip-flops. His hair still hung long and shaggy in his face, and just looking at it made me want to push it back behind his ears.

  As always, Ash pulled a stool up on stage. He hated playing while standing up and made himself comfortable. The girl sitting next to me leaned over to her friend and said not so quietly, “Here we go again with butterfly boy.”

  Her friend gave her a questioning look. “What are you talking about? Is he gay? All the hot ones are always gay.” She muttered the last sentence, shaking her head.

  “No, he’s not gay, stupid-ass. I call him butterfly boy, because he always sings that damn butterfly song and has that tattoo on his arm.”

  My head shot up and my eyes scanned his arms. My stomach dropped to the floor when I saw the same tattoo that donned my left calf inked on his left forearm. How did he know? I never even got a chance to tell him that night about it. My mind started swirling, and it took everything in me to remain seated at the bar and collect myself before reacting foolishly.

  I took slow and steady breaths until I felt my body relax a bit, and then I took a huge drink of my beer. I didn’t need to get drunk by any means, but my nerves needed some drowning, quickly. Hearing his voice again was another huge test of my will, and it almost broke me. Almost.

  Ash walked off the back of the stage, and I saw him glare over at whoever was taking the stage next. My eyes followed his heated stare, and I found Mason returning the sentiment with a glower just as fierce. Ash stepped off the single step and moved directly into the arms of a busty blonde waiting for him. Some things never change.