North Woods University

by Beck, J. L.

  “Em?” Clark calls my name, gathering my attention.

  “Huh? Yeah?” I answer, the burning in my cheeks is almost immediate.

  As if he doesn’t know it already, he decides to embarrass me further. “Were you checking me out?”

  Suddenly my mouth feels dry like I swallowed a bucket full of sand and filled it with cotton balls right afterward.

  “N...no…” I lie, blinking slowly. Clark smirks boyishly before running a hand down the front of his body, flaunting the perfect chiseled muscles.

  “You mean to tell me you weren’t looking at all of this?” Okay, now he’s getting cocky. Maybe Vance was right, Clark’s head is big enough, no need to boost his ego further.

  “Yeah, yeah, you have a body cut from stone. So what?” I shrug, trying to hide how much he actually affects me. This is so new for me, the flirting, the kissing, and the warmth in my belly at the sight of him.

  “Emerson, are you flirting with me?” he coaxes, raising one eyebrow playfully.

  Feeling extremely brave, I answer, “What if I am?”

  His smile fades as he walks over to my side of the bed. “Do you still want to do what you asked me last night?” Do I? If there was anyone I could choose, it would be Clark. No one makes me feel like he does, no one understands me, will listen, and care.

  “Yes,” I somehow muster to say.

  God, I want to, I want to so bad.

  Slowly he climbs onto the bed and reaches for the edge of the blanket. Knowing it’s my security blanket, just another layer he has to peel back, he pulls it from my grasp.

  “If you change your mind at any time, just say the word and I’ll stop,” he tells me, his voice taking on a tone that I’ve never heard before. It’s low and sensual, stoking a fire inside of me. I half expect myself to start freaking out at any second, but there isn’t a single ounce of fear or anxiety coursing through me at this moment.

  It’s as if I’m cured, feeling something other than those two emotions for the first time since I can remember.

  “Okay…” I confirm, nodding my head for him to continue. I trust Clark, he won’t hurt me or take advantage of me. He’s doing this to help me, to help me overcome my fear. I don’t dare tell myself it’s because we’re both attracted to each other, because we both want this… no, because then that would mean something entirely.

  Peering up at me, with his hazel eyes bleeding into mine, he asks, “Have you ever come before?”

  Biting at my bottom lip, I nod my head yes. Before everything happened, I had masturbated a time or two but since then the thought of doing so… it’s repulsed me.

  “Words, Emerson, use words with me. I want yes or nos so that I know if you’re okay with something. I don’t want to hurt you or scare you.”

  He reaches out and caresses my cheek, and I almost sigh into the pillows. His touch is like a healing balm on my skin.

  “Yes, I’ve… come before, but it’s been a long time.” His hand drops from my cheek and trails down my body, over the top of my breast, and down over my belly, stopping once he reaches the hem of my shirt. I shiver even though he hasn’t touched my bare skin yet, an electric current pulsates between us.

  “Do you want my tongue or my fingers…” he questions, his voice taking on a deep honeyed sound. Caught up in the sound, it takes me a moment before I can gather my thoughts and answer him.

  “Fingers…” I whisper. “I want to be able to see your face, in case…”

  He just nods, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “I want to take your shirt off. Is that okay?”

  “Yes,” I say, my voice coming out stronger than I expected. He grabs hold of the fabric and starts pulling it up very slowly, never breaking eye contact, as if he is making sure I don’t freak out or change my mind along the way. He’s handling me like I’m made of glass, like I’m fragile and while I am fragile, I’m also already broken. There’s nothing he could do that could make things worse.

  The shirt comes off over my head, leaving me in nothing but my panties. Without looking, Clark throws it over his shoulder, the cotton shirt landing in a heap on the floor somewhere next to the bed. Without a single sliver of urgency at all, he leans in, his lips finding mine, as soon as our lips touch, a spark ignites in my belly and I find myself reaching for him, my hands flying up to grab onto his shoulders.

  His muscles ripple beneath my hands, and before I realize it, he’s moving us backward, gently placing me against the pillows. He starts to pull away and a tiny whimper subconsciously slips past my lips. I sink my nails into his flesh, willing him to stay, and a hiss of pain or maybe pleasure meets my ears.

  Our eyes clash, his pupils are dilated, his nostrils flared. He’s looking at me like he wants to eat me, ravage me, but there is more… something else hiding in the depth of his eyes, past the lust and the need.

  Bringing both hands to my stomach, he runs his fingers over my flesh with a feather-light touch, then he lets them trail down to the waistband of my panties, resting there for a long moment. He’s giving me a chance to stop him, a moment to tell him no. When I don’t say anything, he continues dipping his fingers inside the band, he starts to pull them down and I lift my hips to help him get them off.

  Everything feels electrified as he pulls the small piece of fabric down my legs, letting his knuckles glide along the flesh as he goes. When the panties are off, he flings them over his shoulder like he did with my shirt. I’m bare now, completely exposed to him, and yet I wouldn’t have it any other way. I never in a million years thought that I would be okay being so exposed, so vulnerable in front of a man.

  There’s a stampede of horses in my ears that I know is my heartbeat. My nipples are hard peaks and I need him to touch me, need him to soothe the ache between my thighs.

  With a softness that doesn’t match his demeanor, he says, “Spread your legs for me.” Without thought, I do as he asks, my legs fall open without fear, and I know what I’m doing. I’m giving myself to him, trusting him completely.

  “Remember, all you have to do is tell me to stop and I will. I swear, Emerson,” he assures me, but I don’t need his assurance. I just need him.

  Leaning forward, he holds onto my hip with one hand and sucks one of my hard nipples into his mouth. I gasp at the sensation that swirls deep in my belly as his tongue flicks against the hardened nub. I can’t stop my hands from moving, it’s like they have a mind of their own as they run through the short strands of hair, my nails sinking into his scalp.

  I can feel his hard as steel cock resting against my leg and without thinking, I move so my thigh is rubbing against it. He groans against my breast, his hand on my hip tightening as he pulls away slightly. My eyes move over his face, his nostrils are flared, his cheeks are flushed, and he looks sexy, good enough to eat.

  “This is not for me… this is all for you.” He leans in, kissing me with a fervor that is contagious. I’m not sure what overcomes me, but I turn into a frenzied animal, my teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Both hands move to my hips as if he’s holding me in place, his grip is bruising, but I’m not scared. If anything I’m thrilled. He moans against my skin, the sound only egging me on. My arms snake around his neck, holding onto him, pulling him even closer, as I deepen the kiss.

  Heat spreads through my lower half, pooling inside of me, and dribbling out against my thighs. I’m ready for him, beyond ready. I never felt this way before, but I know what it means.

  Mumbling against his lips, I tell him, “Touch me.”

  He pulls away a millimeter, both our chests are heaving now, sweat beads against his brow and I can tell this is weighing on him, tension coils inside of him, right beneath the surface.

  “Are you sure?” I smile, because there is nothing else in this moment that would make this any more perfect than it already is.

  “I want you, Clark…” The ache between my legs mount, I grab onto one of his wrists, prying it from my hip, and bringing it to the apex of my thighs. “I want you to
touch me here…” My eyes collide with his, and I gasp when I feel one thick digit slip between my folds, grazing my clit. His touch is gentle, soft, but also passionate and urgent at the same time. He moves his finger through my wetness with ease, groaning when he realizes how ready I am for him.

  His finger teases my entrance and his thumb finds my clit, the rough pad drawing small circles across the tight bundle of nerves. Holy shit. There’s something magical happening deep in my belly, something awakening inside of me. I grab two fistfuls of sheets on either side of me, feeling compelled to hold on to something or risk floating away.

  “Fuck, Em,” Clark hisses, and a moment later he’s entering me, slowly, so slowly it’s almost painful.

  “Oh God…” I cry out, unable to keep the words inside. Clark resists the urge to move inside of me, letting me adjust to his finger, but I don’t want to adjust I want to feel the pleasure that I know he’s going to deliver. “Please Clark, please…” I plead, staring up at him.

  His face is a mask of agony, pure need, and it’s remarkable how he can hold himself back, proving yet again how perfect he is to do this.

  “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he growls, and I feel that growl deep in my womb. The muscles clenching around his digit at the sound. Knowing exactly what I need, he starts to move, fingering me with a gentle thrust, his biceps tremble with the effort it takes for him to hold back and I swallow thickly as he strokes the fire in my belly with each thrust. It feels as if I’m awakening, deep under the water, racing toward the surface.

  Closer and closer I get to the surface, my legs shake, and I bite into my bottom lip, a scream building deep in my throat.

  “Come for me, Em, let me see what you look like when you fall apart,” Clark whispers against my heated flesh.

  “Clark…” The word passes my lips on a scream.

  With his finger pumping in and out of me and his thumb on my clit, I go soaring through the water, crashing through the surface. Air fills my lungs and it feels like I’m breathing for the first time, like I’ve been drowning this whole time, and I guess I have.

  Until he found me.

  Gasping, my eyes fall closed and my channel clenches the muscles contracting as waves of pleasure ripple through the sensitive tissue. Clark’s movements slow as he milks out my orgasm. When every tremor of pleasure has made its way through me, I force my eyes open and find Clark staring down at me. His gaze is heated, hotter than the sun, with need painted like a red warning label on his face, one that would’ve sent me into a frenzy of fear before I met him.

  He starts pulling away, but I grab his forearms, holding him in place. It feels like I’m drunk, my lips are swollen, my mouth is dry, and yet I’ve never been so free. It’s been forever since I felt like I could breathe. I have to repay him, return the favor.

  “What about you?” I croak.

  “I told you, this was all for you. Don’t worry about me. Besides, I already came in the bathroom while thinking about you,” he says without an ounce of shame in his voice.

  He thought about me while he masturbated. I guess I’m not all that shocked. I knew we were getting into unknown territory and that a guy like him couldn’t hold off on sex forever, but I didn’t...I guess I didn’t expect him to think about me while doing it. I’m nothing special.

  I open my mouth to object, but Clark’s phone starts to ring somewhere next to the bed. Clark doesn’t bat an eyelash though and instead continues looking at me.

  “I want to repay you, show you that I can do this…” I trail off. I feel shy even though I did just let him finger me and see me completely naked.

  Clark’s eyes gleam with approval, but he shakes his head. “I know you can do it, so it doesn’t matter. You have nothing to prove to me. Next time you can repay me. Today was meant to show you that you still have all the power and that not everyone hurts women.”

  For some stupid reason, tears well in my eyes, and I want to hug him, kiss him, tell him how much he means to me, but again his phone starts to ring.

  “What the fuck?” he mutters under his breath, gently pulling away from me to find his phone. A second later he’s got the sleek device in his hand, a somber look crosses his face and then he looks over at me. Anger clouds his vision and I wonder what, or better yet who would cause his emotions to waver in such a way.

  As if he can hear the question I’m asking, he says, “It’s my dad.”

  Grabbing the blanket from the foot of the bed, I drape it over my naked body. I know his dad can’t see me through the phone, but I still somehow feel weird knowing Clark is talking to his father and also looking at my naked body.

  I’m nearly covered up when Clark answers the phone bringing it to his ear.

  “What?” he growls into the speaker. If it wasn’t clear before that he was angry about his father’s phone call, it is when I hear the tone of his voice.

  “I don’t want to do any more shit for you.” He squeezes his eyes shut, frustration marring his handsome face. After a pause, he sighs, “Fine, I’ll be there. I’ll ask her but if she says no, then you are going to leave her alone. She doesn’t have to go if she doesn’t want to.”

  He hangs up the phone and looks over to where I’m still sitting on his bed. Maybe I should’ve gotten up by now, but I can’t bring myself to leave the bed yet. I want what happened between us to resonate within me for as long as it can. I don’t want to let go of the feelings, of the way it felt to be taken care of, instead of being taken advantage of.

  With a grim look, Clark says, “There is this charity event at the clubhouse at the end of the month. Our dads want us to go… I already said I would go, but you don’t have to, you can stay here or hang out with Ava if you want.”

  Does he not want me to go? My brow furrows. Maybe he wants to go with someone else?

  “You don’t have to take me,” I assure him. “You can take someone else. We don’t have to pretend anymore.”

  “Em, you still don’t get it, do you?” He gets into the bed beside me, taking my hand and holding it to his chest over his thundering heartbeat. “I want you. I want you and no one else. We aren’t pretending anymore. This is real.”

  There’s a pause and I’m not sure what I should say….

  “Go with me, be my plus one, my date, my girlfriend…for real this time.”

  I’m sure my eyes are bugging out of my head right now, but I can’t wrap my mind around what he just asked me. Doesn’t he know that I’m broken, that I’ll never be like the other girls he’s dated?

  “I don’t know…” I whisper.

  Tipping my chin upward with one finger, he stares into my eyes. “Think about it. We have time. You don’t have to decide right now, just know that in my mind, in my heart, you’re already mine.”

  And if I wasn’t already falling for him, I am now. The only thing standing in our way…

  My secret.

  61

  Clark

  The next week passes in a flurry and we fall into a routine. Emerson seems happier and more relaxed every day. Coming out of her shell right before my eyes. I see her smile more and worry less. Her anxiety seemingly held at bay by whatever it is that has been growing between us and I’m grateful for that. Elated to see her overcoming all of her fears.

  Emerson has slept in my bed every night since that morning she let me make her come. But all we’ve done since that day is sleep. Most nights, I hold her in my arms, and occasionally we kiss. It’s PG as hell, but I don’t want to push her or make her think that she has to have sex with me. I’m content with whatever she’s comfortable with. The only thing that matters to me is making sure she’s happy and unafraid.

  The thought of not caring for sex anymore almost makes me laugh out loud. Two months ago, if someone would have told me that I would be fine not having sex with a girl that I wanted to fuck and instead just cuddle, I would have told them to fuck off with their craziness. But it’s not crazy, not entirely. I’ve come to realize that there is so m
uch more than sex. All it took was Emerson for me to see it.

  I’ve made certain everyone sees us together, as an item, so we’ve been holding hands everywhere we go. I’ve even landed a kiss or two, proving to anyone and everyone that I’m not playing when it comes to her. At first, people stared, but now most have stopped looking at us. Sarah and her posse of friends have left Emerson alone completely and the few times we’ve been stared at by someone else I’ve had to suppress the urge to dish out some throat punches.

  I’m not violent by any means, but I won’t let any more of the fuckers at this school hurt her, or think shitty of her because of me. Instead, I’ll start knocking heads together until the asswipes get the idea.

  “Who are you strangling in your head?” Vance asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Anyone who looks funny at Em,” I tell him as some guy kneels in front of me measuring my leg. Professional as can be, he doesn’t even react to our conversation. Then again, I wouldn’t expect any different from a man that my father hires.

  Vance leans back against the leather sofa, a curious look in his eyes. “I’ve never seen you like this before… with a girl… I mean.”

  “I’ve never seen you like this before either… with Ava… I mean,” I mock.

  “Well I knew eventually I would find someone to hold my attention, but you’ve never, and I mean never as long as I’ve known you cared to lay claim to a girl.”

  The guy in front of me measures my other leg, and I stare at myself in the mirror. The more I think about it, the more I feel like it wasn’t just Emerson who changed, who came out of her shell. It was me too.

  “What changed?” Vance adds, his head tipped back and his eyes on the ceiling.

  “Her. She changed me. Just like Ava changed you, Emerson changed me. Not to sound like a pussy or anything, but she made me realize there is more to life than just a quick fuck.”