Beyond Touched (The Beyond Series Book 3)

by Ashley Logan

  “Perks,” he finishes, giving me the stink-eye as he rubs his thigh.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like you can feel it.”

  “It’ll still bruise, asswipe. You think chicks want to sit on a lap covered in hematomas?”

  “Then perhaps you should keep your mouth shut about other people’s business,” I suggest with a laugh. “Sorry Alexa. Jenkins has a big mouth and I have a legally binding agreement to adhere to. Oh, and we saw Sam earlier. She said she’d see you another time.”

  Alexa stops looking between us as she would in a tennis match and then focuses on me. “Did she look okay? Was she warm enough? Do you think she’d eaten recently, or showered? Did you notice any bruises, or scratches, or-”

  “She looked fine. She’s still wearing your hat and jacket, her boots looked good, she didn’t look hungry, or smell offensive, and I didn’t notice any evidence of a bear attack. Brad?”

  “She looked like she usually looks. I advised her to upgrade her sleeping provisions for winter and I’m sure Damon gave her some cash to do so.”

  “There. Okay?”

  Looking between us, Alexa opens her door. “Who are you people? The ex-military branch of the homeless outreach?” she asks, shaking her head and closing the door after herself once she’s seated. Brad closes his door and I move around to mine, ready to slip back into my hooks. My door clicks open and I smile gratefully at Alexa as I get in.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for helping my friend; even before you knew she was my friend. It means a lot.”

  “We do what we can, right Jenkins?”

  Muttering something about a goody-two shoes, ass-kisser, Brad sighs. “Yeah, I guess.”

  Rolling my eyes, I lean towards Alexa. “Don’t mind him. He just wishes he could do more because his heart is even bigger than those arms he’s trying to squeeze into his sleeves. Dude, get a bigger t-shirt.”

  “Fuck you, it’s an XXL. Any bigger and I’ll drown.”

  “‘Roids,” I whisper, losing my grin as I slip into my hooks to pull on my belt and start the car. Trying not to laugh as Brad thumps the back of my seat, I pull away from the curb.

  “I heard that asshole. That acid burn was the punishment for your lies. These babies are pure Bradley and if you say that shit again, they’re gonna wail on you when you least expect it. Apologies for the low-grade conversation, Alexa. Your boyfriend is an ass-hat.”

  Alexa and I look at each other, and I see the amusement slide off her face as it’s replaced by something resembling fear. Pretending that look doesn’t stab a knife through my guts, I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile.

  “Alexa and I haven’t actually put a label on this yet, Bradley. ‘Damon is an ass-hat’ should be just fine for now.”

  “No argument here, ass-hat. So Alexa, I hear you’re quite the card sharp,” Brad says, thankfully finding it in his heart to take pity on me and diverting to small talk for the rest of the trip.

  Parking outside his mom’s house, I drop my hooks and retrieve Brad’s wheelchair from the trunk.

  “Thanks for the lift, ass-hat.”

  “You’re welcome, shit-licker. I know missing a breastfeed makes you cranky, but I just love the way your mom’s tits swell up when you miss a feed.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Don’t talk to your future step-daddy like that!” I tease, laughing as I jump out of the path of his swinging fists.

  Shaking his head, he rolls up next to Alexa’s window as it slides down. “A pleasure to see you, Alexa. Let me know if the idiot needs to mind his manners. I’ll take great pleasure in teaching him a lesson.”

  Rolling backwards quickly, he pins my foot under his tire and punches me in the guts, knocking the wind right out of me. “Seeya next time sweetie,” he calls over his shoulder to me, laughing as he rolls towards his front porch ramp.

  Sucking in air, I look up to find Alexa smirking.

  Coughing a few times, I smile back. “You don’t have to look so pleased. He has actually seriously injured people in the past.”

  “Perhaps a wiser man wouldn’t provoke him,” she says, not able to hide her smile. “Are you guys always like that?”

  “Worse if Bruno’s with us,” I answer truthfully before making my way back around to the driver’s side. “Does it bother you?”

  Alexa shakes her head and waves to Brad on the porch. He returns the wave, blows her a kiss and goes inside. Scowling at him, I blank my face again as Alexa turns back to me. Donning my hooks, I reverse down his driveway and head for Beyond.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” she says quietly.

  “You didn’t. I’m used to people enjoying it when Jenkins thumps me.”

  “Damon,” she groans, because she knows that I know she’s talking about the boyfriend comment.

  “Alexa.” I mimic her tone, because I don’t want to admit out loud how much it hurt.

  “The word boyfriend has bad connotations for me.”

  “It’s fine. I understand. Call me whatever you want. Ass-hat seems a popular choice. Will you be free tomorrow afternoon? Until say six-thirty? I know you’ll be dancing after seven, but I’ll make sure you’re fed.”

  “I don’t know, ass-hat. What did you have planned? Tomorrow is Friday and I think it’s my turn on dinner. I’m sure someone will swap with me if I deem your suggested exploits worthy of my precious time, but if you’re only going to be juvenile and dismissive, I doubt I’ll need to bother,” she says moodily.

  Grinding my teeth, I drum my hooks on the steering wheel as I wait in line for a green light. “What do you want me to say, Alexa?” I ask, looking straight ahead. “That it hurts when I’m reminded that although I feel very much like your something, I’m not in fact your anything? Fine. I admit it. It hurts. But I still love you and I would like very much to take you to a high school production of Pride and Prejudice - the comical and condensed version, because I think we’d both really enjoy it.” When the streetlight changes, I take a calming breath before we start moving again. “Sorry. That came out louder than it should have. What I meant to say, was that I know you didn’t mean to hurt my feelings.”

  “Well what time does it start?” Alexa yells, making me jump. “Because that sounds awesome, but I need to know what time you’ll be picking me up! I need to fit in a visit to Madame and serve hot soup at the shelter at midday!”

  Laughing a little at the hilarious look on her face, I yell back, grinning so wide that it hurts my cheeks a little. “I’d like to pick you up at two, so I can take you to see my new apartment before we go! It’ll be ready to move into this weekend and I’m really excited about it because it’s only two blocks away from this amazing girl I know! Is two okay?!”

  “Two should be fine!” she yells back. “Why is yelling so fun?! People should talk like this all the time!”

  “They really should! I think old people would appreciate it!”

  Pulling up to the curb by Beyond, I put the car in park, but leave it running as I slip out of my hooks.

  “You’re not coming up?” she asks, deflating a little.

  “I have an assignment due in the morning, so I can’t,” I explain, lowering my head regretfully. “I should have done it earlier, but I got distracted by something shiny,” I say, looking up at her through my lashes.

  “Do you have to be so damn adorable all the time?” she says, taking off her seatbelt and shuffling closer. Lifting my face, she looks into my eyes a long while without saying anything. Eventually, she kisses me softly on the lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Damon Shermansky.” Kissing me again quickly, she shuffles backwards and opens her door, leaving it open as she grabs her dance bag from the back. Slinging that over her shoulder, she ducks her head back in the door and smiles. “And you are definitely my something.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ALEXA

  I feel like it should be weird that Damon and I have spent time tog
ether every day since he came to visit the apartment, but it isn’t strange at all. I gave in to my desires presuming he wouldn’t be able to stick to the rules and I’d lose interest, but he was so damn good to me, the opposite is true.

  Beyond interested, I genuinely look forward to seeing him each day, and although I definitely have frequent urges to strip him naked and have my way with him, the fact that we’re abstaining has opened up a whole new world to me. I’ve never really had a man just hang out with me before when he also wants me in other ways. While I know that is largely because I’ve never known how to keep from using sex to get what I’ve needed from a relationship, and have always found companionable relationships confusing, I can honestly say that I am enjoying Damon’s company immensely. Knowing that he enjoys me, and not just my body, has gone a long way to show me what’s possible. I’m actually starting to believe I might be capable of a normal life; that I might be worthy of some regular form of love.

  “What are you thinking about, Alexa?” he asks, bringing me back to earth. “I’m going to take a wild guess that it has nothing to do with the quadratic equations we’ve been working on.”

  Due to our conflicting schedules this Tuesday, I’d danced early and met him at his new apartment for our study session. My books are scattered across his big dining table in the open plan loft apartment, but I’ve been staring off into space. Lowering my eyes to his face, I find him leaning on his arm and smiling at me from the seat next to mine.

  “Sorry. I was just thinking that I enjoy spending time with you.”

  His eyebrows lift a little higher and his smile grows. “Well, I don’t think you need to apologize for that. I’m very pleased that you like spending time with me, and the feeling is mutual.”

  Smiling in return, I look back to my books and try to concentrate, which is getting harder and harder, because he’s so close and he smells so good.

  “Do you think you could maybe give me a little space?” I ask, tapping my pencil on the paper in front of me. “You’re very distracting tonight.”

  “I’m distracting,” he mutters, eying the hem of my short skirt - and not for the first time tonight, which is probably why I can’t stop thinking about sitting on him. “At least I wear underwear,” he says under his breath, scraping his chair back and moving to the kitchen. Filling the kettle, he sets it to boil as he watches me.

  “Yeah, well you smell too good and I can’t concentrate when I can feel you next to me. It makes my insides achy and makes me think of very non-mathematical things.”

  “Well maybe after two nights on quadratics, some non-mathematical things are in order,” he says, pushing open the drawer that houses his cups. “Tell you what. If you can solve the next ten problems perfectly, I’ll deem you qualified enough to move on to non-mathematical things.”

  “Like what?” I ask, sitting up taller in my chair and crossing my legs as my body translates his suggestion to mean something deliciously carnal.

  Watching me a moment, Damon sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. “Just get the problems right, and we’ll do something else. Tea?”

  “Please.” Frowning at my books, I settle in for the hard slog. I’m two problems in when Damon’s oven-mitted stumps set a cup of steaming rhubarb and raspberry tea next to me and he leaves again. Hearing him flop onto his huge comfy couch, I smile, because I know he’ll be smiling.

  By the time I’ve finished all ten problems and checked them three times, I’m as nervous as anything. Glancing over my shoulder, I watch him stretched out and reading on the couch. Struck again by his dashing good looks, I sigh and check my answers again. If they’re wrong, I don’t know how. Looking over my shoulder again, I watch him a while longer.

  “Does the fact that you’re staring at me mean that you’re ready for me to check your answers?” he asks without looking up from his e-reader.

  “How do you even know I’m looking at you?”

  “I can feel your eyes on me. They make me hot and tingly,” he says. “Are you ready?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit, glancing back at my work. “I don’t want them to be wrong.”

  “Me neither,” he says in a husky voice that sets my insides quivering and my mind racing as to how he’s planning on rewarding me if I’ve done well. With his mouth, or his dick? Will he let me choose which? How do I choose between the two when they both feel so good? I’m glad he’s ready to throw in this abstinence thing. I wore a skirt on purpose, hoping he’d want it as much as I do. Rising from the couch, he stretches, giving me a glimpse of his abs as his shirt rises up and I tuck my hands beneath me to keep from reaching for him.

  Coming over, he sits back in the seat next to me and pulling it even closer, he leans right in. Now all my senses are open to invasion by the tasty dish that is Damon Shermansky. As if he knows it, Damon takes his time marking my work.

  “Hmmm,” he says thoughtfully as he gives the first problem a long assessment. The sound alone is enough to make my skin break out in goosebumps, but he makes it worse when his arm brushes against mine as he moves it agonizingly slowly down the page. With him so close, I can smell not only his subtle cologne, but also his shampoo, his soap and the raw scent of Damon beneath them all. Incapable of moving for fear of taking a bite of him, I can only watch as he takes his sweet time.

  “Hmmm,” he says again as he straightens up and looks at me with a very serious expression.

  “They’re wrong?” My eyes flit to the paper, then back to his face. “I’m doomed. I don’t know how else they should look if they’re not meant to be like that. I don’t get it. I don’t get how it works.”

  “Why are you being so hard on yourself? You’ve only been working on it for two days and it takes time to wrap your head around it,” he says, his eyes softening in a sympathetic way.

  “Oh man. So they are wrong?”

  “Not at all. Ten out of ten correct. I’m beginning to think you’d achieve a lot more if we introduced an incentive based learning program where I regularly promise you unknown things to make you work harder.”

  Staring at him, I don’t know whether to slap him or kiss him.

  “They’re right?”

  Smiling, he nods. “Apparently you do understand the quadratic equation and how it works. Have you just been pretending this whole time so I’d spend more time with you?”

  Grabbing his ear, I tug it a little, bringing his face closer to mine.

  “Listen here, mister. If I wasn’t so damn grateful for your tutelage I could just rip this ear right off.” Loosening my grip, I pull his face closer with both hands and kiss him on the lips. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he whispers against my lips before I push him away so I can tidy up my books.

  “So what do my ten correct answers earn me?” I ask, afraid to look up and give my eagerness away as I stack the books into one pile.

  “That depends,” Damon says in a low voice as he stands up and walks to the kitchen.

  “On what?” Standing too, I follow him with my eyes. Scratching his beard, he looks me up and down quickly before exhaling roughly and holding up a king-size block of chocolate.

  “On whether you’d like to eat peppermint chocolate and watch a lame teenage make-out movie, or if you’d rather eat peppermint chocolate and play a game of Cluedo. I thought maybe you hadn’t done either of those things, so maybe we could achieve some firsts. Unless I’m being silly and you already know who Colonel Mustard is.”

  Feeling my cheeks heat to a ridiculous level, I look down at the chair I’m still holding. I can’t seem to let it go just yet. “Um either of those things would be fine.”

  “Why are you blushing?” he asks, coming closer.

  “A girl can’t blush about being a Cluedo virgin?”

  “A girl can, but a girl isn’t,” Damon says, standing next to me now. “You don’t want to tell me?”

  Holding the chair a little tighter as the heat fills my entire face, I swallow hard. “I thought that ma
ybe your rewards scheme might be orgasm-based, but chocolate-based is good too.”

  The chocolate falls to the floor and Damon instantly crouches to recover it, setting it on the table next to us. Clearing his throat, he remains quiet and I start to wish my inappropriate brain would just shrivel up and die. Just as I’m thinking up an excuse to head home, he speaks.

  “I uh, haven’t trialed orgasms as incentive before, but if they are something you feel deserving of, I couldn’t disagree with you. You deserve as many as your heart desires. I suggest we take option one, the teenage make-out movie,” he says carefully, then nods with confidence. “Yes. That is the best solution. Assuming murder mysteries don’t turn you on?” he says with a cheeky grin before picking the chocolate back up and moving into the living room space.

  Flopping onto the couch, he breaks and arranges the chocolate on the coffee table for easy access, then flips the TV remote off the table like a pro. “Have you seen...” Flicking through file names, he stops and reads the title, “The Notebook?” he asks, tapping the spot next to him with his no-hand while he trawls through other options with his other stump, working the remote as it sits on his thigh.

  Coming to sit next to him, I nod. “Kat made me watch it last year.”

  “Perfect,” Damon says, pushing play and tossing the remote back on the coffee table. Lifting his arm, he gestures that I should snuggle in next to him.

  “But I’ve seen it,” I say, moving slowly.

  “A good make-out movie is one you don’t mind missing large parts of,” he says with a grin. “Chocolate?”

  Taking two pieces, I put one in my mouth and one in his.

  “I like the way you do that.”

  “Do what?” I ask, reaching for another as the movie starts.

  “The way you get me a piece, even though you know I can get it myself,” he says, kissing my temple. “The way your fingertips brush my lips as you feed it to me, to let me know you’re doing it to be sexy and not because you feel sorry for me.”

  My eyes leave the TV to study him. “What kind of relationships have you had that make you say things like that?”