The V Girl: A coming of age story

by Mya Robarts

  Aleksey exhales as if an internal conflict has been relieved. When I glance at him, his eyes are bright and kind. Perhaps it’s my imagination, but he looks different. Have my words moved him?

  He tightens his muscular arms around me. Our chemistry has become tangible, electric. I look down and force myself to continue. “As absurd as this sounds, it’d be easier to stay away until recruitment day than to get more attached to you … only to say goodbye in a week.” I glance up and catch a delighted flicker in his eyes. “But that’s not the only reason. I can’t explain everything now—”

  “Tell me more,” he says with poorly concealed eagerness under his somber tone.

  “When I met you, I thought you were a soldier. You resemble my mother’s attackers and your kink … puts me on edge … so—”

  “I can’t change the way we met.” A tinge of frustration shows in his blue eyes. “But have I ever done anything to make you think I don’t care about your safety?” I shake my head, and his hold on me strengthens. “Don’t fear me, Lila.”

  I remember what Tristan said. People fear Aleksey or lust after him, but they never love him. I don’t want to belong to the former category, although it’s impossible, with a man like him, to not belong to the latter.

  “It’s hard to feel relaxed around any man, because of my fears … but with you …” As I continue speaking out long years of distrust, little by little, my reservations about Aleksey begin to evaporate. But there’s still the C.N. aspect. “I’m also afraid of discovering my darkest side. You stir in me a feral need … to be taken, to be claimed. I’m worried that the consent lines between us might get blurred.”

  “Don’t sweat it, Lila. I understand when no means no.”

  I believe him now. I should have realized that after our first encounter because I asked him not to touch me, and he complied. Yet my fear of him is more nuanced than that. Because part of my fear of him is fear of myself.

  “But I don’t,” I say. The confusion and shame that my orgasmic hallucination has brought on prove it. I thought I was well-versed in the theory, even though I have had no practice, but Aleksey has challenged all that I thought I knew and wanted. As much as I think I’m ready for sex, there’s still a part of me that will feel extremely vulnerable when the moment to get naked and go to bed with a man comes.

  He cradles me and considers my words carefully. “Do you mean you’re afraid to push boundaries?”

  I bury my head in his chest, relieved that he not only listens, but understands. “I’d rather go safe and sweet.”

  “In Gyges, I could tell you were scared. So I took care of you.” My body rises and falls along with his chest as he sighs. His hand caresses my hair. “I proved to you that as much as desire drives me crazy when I’m with you, I’m in control, so rest assured.” He pulls me up so that our faces are closer. We look into each other’s eyes for a while as the atmosphere continues to spark. “You’re safe with me.”

  As if trying to prove that he can be gentle, he kisses my forehead and rubs his stubble against my cheeks before placing gentle kisses all over my face except my ready lips. His touch transmits tenderness, longing, and reverence. It also has just the right amount of desire to make me feel wanted without scaring me.

  I raise my hand to touch his cheek and he leans into it, evidently enjoying the contact. I’m surprised to see him smiling. It warms me to think that I’m the one who has brought that grin to his brooding face.

  “You rarely talk,” I say. We’d avoid misunderstandings if he talked more about himself.

  Several minutes of silence pass before he answers.

  “That’s partially your fault.”

  “How is it my fault?”

  “I only talk right after sex. And since you refuse to have sex with me …” He winks at me, and I grin. Playful Aleksey always makes me smile.

  He gets up, scooping me up with him. “Come on. There’s a place I want to show you.”

  * * *

  Poncho gallops toward the hot springs. During our time on the run, he couldn’t get his daily bath in the river the way he loves to. The water in the pools is crystal clear and offers a good view of the sandy bottoms and rock walls. Some feet ahead of the springs is a noisy, steamy waterfall that creates a sparkling mist. Green moss blankets the rocks surrounding us.

  We sit on a rock, and Aleksey drapes his arm around my shoulder, his fingers grazing my face tenderly. It has taken a long ATV ride and a difficult hike to get to this place well north of the river, but it was worth it. I got to drive on the bumpy roads, and the sight before us now is beautiful.

  Aleksey watches me fixedly as he plays with my hair. “There’s no time now, but before I leave Starville, I’ll take you to see the Pacific Ocean,” he says in a low voice. “There’s a UNNO refueling point only a few hours away. Three more hours of driving and we’d reach the California coast.”

  Aleksey must have ditched plenty of his leadership duties to spend time with me. That makes me feel like he’s honoring our reconciliation. Reconciliation must be the sweetest, yet most underutilized, word in the English language.

  There’s barely any time left for us to build good memories. After the recruitment ceremony, we’ll see each other only in our minds.

  “We’ll become the lovers that never were,” he murmurs as though reading my thoughts. By this time next week, I may be on my way toward a life of sexual slavery as a vassal, and he’ll be on his way to another occupied city. The thought makes my chest constrict painfully, but I won’t dwell on what can’t be changed. It’ll be better to take advantage of the time we have left.

  Not saying anything, he gets up, and I follow him toward the waterfall. We end up in our underwear under the hot water, back to back, the water sliding from our bodies. This is how we met, but unlike that time, when sadness was evident on his face, I can feel a lighthearted mood exuding from his hulky frame. Even if he’s not smiling.

  I turn and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my body firmly against his lower back. The contact of my breasts against his bare skin feels glorious.

  For a long, delectable moment, I revel in the feeling of being so close to him. I like his solid muscles, his extraordinary height, and the strong arms that make me feel like I’m small and safe whenever he embraces me. I love that he protects me, and I love how he’s silent to everyone except me. I won’t let him leave Starville without telling him how I feel about him.

  My voice doesn’t come out in a seductive purr as I intended, but in a girlish chime. “Sir, I like you so much, sir.”

  In answer, his hands graze my arms, which are still around his waist. My cheeks flush.

  “Sir … before you leave Starville ... I’d like you to become my first, sir.”

  Aleksey’s body tenses. His head snaps up and to the right. I admire his perfect profile. His face is expressionless, but there’s a definite hungry determination in his eyes.

  His voice is husky. “Now?”

  I shake my head. There’s something I have to take care of first. Something that will allow me to start my sexual life out of willingness, not out of fear. “In three night’s time, sir. In your room.”

  He nods. We have a deal now, and the promise of the pleasure that will come makes my body buzz in anticipation. I’ll have a hard time not thinking about what’s in store for me.

  That is, if I survive long enough to act on my plans.

  43

  Love

  The ration center buzzes with activity. The entire town is in line at different vaccination stands. Two dozen cops call people alphabetically according to their last names: Bronte, Andrea; Brown, Joseph; Busko, Olga. Aleksey told me he isn’t usually part of these activities, but with only six days to go until the recruitment ceremony, he’s making the process speed along.

  People won’t suspect that we spent a good portion of last night kissing. He said once that our arrangement must be discreet, so we aren’t even looking at each other. Still, I wonder if it�
�s a coincidence that my family will receive their vaccines from him.

  While waiting in line, Olmo stares longingly at Elena, who is wearing a floor-length blue dress and has made several attempts to approach Aleksey. One of those attempts has included pastries. My eyebrows shoot up at her tenacity. Elena knows that he’s busy, that she’ll be rejected rudely—this time in front of witnesses. Does she think he might take her just so she’ll leave him alone?

  When Aleksey calls for Velez, Azalea, Elena approaches him again. “I asked for Miss Velez, not for her bitch.” The force of his derisive tone makes me wince, even though I’m not the one receiving his cruelty.

  Azzy laughs loudly. Elena acts as though she hasn’t heard, but she hurries away, and we don’t see her after that.

  There’s a huge contrast between the way he treats Elena and the way he treats Olmo. “If it makes you feel better, I will inject myself first,” he says softly when he sees my brother’s reluctance. Aleksey plunges the thick needle deep into his bulky bicep without wincing. Olmo stops crying.

  A look of self-realization crosses Olmo’s face after Aleksey injects him.

  “It hurt like hell, but I’m a tough dude,” says Olmo proudly.

  It’s not the first time I’ve seen Olmo feeling good about himself after Aleksey gave him a challenge to overcome. Clearly, Aleksey makes Olmo feel capable.

  Later, after he’s finished with his afternoon duties, Aleksey takes me out for a stroll around the woods that surround the city slopes. This time, he’s the one who reaches for my hand. Ha! And he said he wasn’t the holding-hands type.

  “You’re too cruel to Elena, Mr. Fürst.”

  Her name brings a scowl to his face. “She’s been abusive to your brother.”

  Fury boils inside me, reddening my face. “Abusive?”

  “While you were on bed rest, your brother declared his feelings for her. She laughed at him and pushed him aside. He fell back, and I had to tend to a few cuts and bruises.”

  Molten rage runs through my veins. “That bitch!” I try to storm back to town, but Aleksey stops me. “Let me go! I’ll find her and—”

  “Don’t waste our time together, Lila. I’ve been avenging your brother with my attitude ever since.”

  “You’re right, keep snapping at her. Only not on account of her sluttiness.”

  He arches his eyebrows questioningly.

  “Starvillers always slut-shame Elena,” I say, scowling. “As much as I want to slap her for the way she treats us, I hate slut-shaming.” Getting engaged at a young age, getting scorned in public if the bridal sheets are not stained with blood, making fun of spinsters … all those customs are not the best examples of sexual free will. Elena never follows Starville’s sexual rules, and that’s earned her slut-shaming insults.

  Amused admiration shows on his face, but his voice comes out lustful. “Is there any topic you don’t have a strong opinion on?” Aleksey stops and wraps his arms around me to pull me close. His touch sears my skin. “I’m not snapping at her because of her sexual life. I’m mistreating her because of her cruelty to your family.”

  All thoughts of Elena disappear when he slides his hands around my waist. We stare into each other’s eyes intently. The atmosphere between us has suddenly changed into something palpable—hot and magnetic.

  Aleksey abruptly pushes me against a tree and presses his body against mine. I look at him in wonder. What will he do? He answers my unspoken question when he slowly, sensually leans in.

  I forget everything except the way he’s making me feel. The way his lips are grazing my neck, charging my skin with zinging electricity everywhere they touch. Aleksey takes his time to inhale and then gently slides his lips all over my neck, the hollow of my throat, my earlobes. I tip down my head as waves of warmth make my skin tingle from the roots of my hair down to my toes.

  His hands slide their way up from my waist until he’s cupping my face. My eyes get lost in his for a while before our lips touch. Softly at first. Then he kisses me at length, lingeringly and passionately.

  An hour passes as our mouths dance in a slow, ardent rhythm. At times, he whispers my name in my ear before he returns to my mouth. Aleksey’s teaching me that many things can be said not with words, but with the language of two mouths moving in unison. His sweet, lingering kisses convey longing, tenderness, and admiration. When his mouth turns ravishing, itʼs as if he’s passing along a message of passion, eroticism, and possessiveness. As our mouths speak silently of emotions I didn’t even know existed, I fear that no one else will make me feel like this again.

  His hands are starting to roam freely under my shirt when the overwhelming emotions become too much. Aleksey realizes, that even if my body refuses to stop, I’ve reached my limit. He breaks the kiss and pulls me into his muscular arms. For a while, I snuggle against his chest. Being this close to him, I notice that his heart is beating as wildly as mine.

  I can’t help but feel nervous. When the moment comes, sex between us will be difficult. I keep getting overwhelmed. It won’t be comfortable, and there’s the risk of flashbacks. He’ll have to be extremely patient and caring. Perhaps we should practice beforehand. But right here, right now, his concern is not his pleasure but my feelings.

  “I’m being selfish here. I’m putting an innocent girl at risk of getting too attached to a man like me,” he says in a self-reproaching tone. “The last thing I want is to hurt you.”

  I playfully punch his arm. “I’m not at risk of falling in love with you … or anyone. It’s impossible to fall in love in a matter of days.”

  His head snaps down to look at me. “Is it?”

  “Of course. Divine and Joey have been friends since childhood. My mom and dad spent years getting to know each other before—”

  His serious face becomes more somber. He doesn’t like this conversation. “For such a young person, you’re incredibly opinionated.”

  “I’m not so young. I’m an eighteen-year-old spinster.”

  “Your body might be eighteen,” he says, not trying to be discreet in how his eyes rake my frame. “Your face stopped aging at thirteen. And you’re fairly inexperienced and unworldly.” He kisses my forehead. “Like a child. All you Starvillers are.”

  “I’m not a Starviller!” I say indignantly. “I’m an American.” I look at him in wonder. “Do you agree?”

  He looks away as if pondering heavy thoughts. Then he drapes his arm around my shoulder and leads the way home. “With your political affiliation? I do. I still regard Patriots and Nats as Americans.”

  “No. I mean my opinions on love. My insta-love isn’t real love statement.”

  His voice sounds distant. “I’ve seen men lose their minds over women they’ve just met. My men call it the donnerkeil. ‘Thunderbolt’ in German. When a man looks at a woman and gets hit by the donnerkeil, the rest of the world ceases to exist for him. And no other woman holds a millionth of the pull that his donnerkeil holds. He’d kill before letting anything–anyone–take her away from him. She becomes everything and—” Aleksey seems to suddenly realize that he’s being too intense. He looks away from me and recovers his cool demeanor.

  “That’s passion … lust … possessiveness,” I say. “I’m no expert, but I think thunderbolts aren’t true love.” I pull up the hood of my cloak. “When there’s a storm, the thunderbolts illuminate everything but die in seconds before leaving an even darker sky. They’re replaced by other short-lived thunderbolts. When the storm ends, they leave nothing.”

  Aleksey’s eyes turn to me as if asking, What is love for you, then?

  “It would take all afternoon to explain it.”

  In response, the back of his hand grazes my cheek. “We have all afternoon and, if you want, all night.”

  All night. “Bear with me; this will be boring.” I inhale deeply. “I think true love transcends time. The thunderbolt does not. Not if it strikes men the way you described.”

  I start a sprint toward a glade where my favor
ite orange flowers grow. He catches up with me easily.

  “Most girls prefer flowers over trees.” I brush my fingers on the petals. “These flowers blossom quickly. They speak of passion, of beauty.” I take a withering flower that has dropped to the ground and fondle it between my fingers. “But flowers don’t last. They wither easily and have limited growth. A tree speaks not of passion, but sturdiness. Yet, it grows higher and lasts longer. Some of these trees were here before I was born, and they’ll be here once I’m gone.”

  My head falls back as I look at the highest tree. “Real love ought to be more like a tree and less like a flower.” I sigh loudly. “That’s the kind of love my parents had. It wasn’t as consuming as it was everlasting. And you see that tree over there?” I point toward a cluster of trees across from us. “Now it’s showing only green leaves, but in spring it’s covered in flowers. Because as reliable as trees are, they can also speak of beauty and passion.”

  Aleksey contemplates the tallest tree in silence. “I prefer trees, too. Let’s go back.” He scoops me in his arms the way people carry toddlers. I don’t protest. This position has advantages. It makes it easy to wrap my arms around his neck and peck his cheek. He tenses. His eyes show a tinge of wonder, and I smile. I never imagined that giving affection would feel this good.

  “Why do you despise insta-love, Lila?”

  “To love somebody, you need to know them. That takes time.”

  The wind becomes violent, so he covers me with his cape. “Lila, can you honestly tell me that I haven’t seen through you? That I haven’t told you things about yourself that you didn’t suspect?”

  My voyeurism, my fears, my dreams. Not only does he know me better than most people do, he understands me.

  One of his hands plays with a gray strand of my hair. “You have seen past the barriers I built to keep people away. You’re the only person who sees the boy inside of this man. Nobody knows me better than you do.” His voice turns husky. “And you’ll know me even more in due time.” He must mean sexually, but he seems to imply something else.