Crocodile Tears: A Boy Meets Girl Story

by Daya Daniels

  “C’mere,” he repeats reaching for my hand.

  I groan and sit up, right before he drags me into the water and against his hard body. I wrap my legs around him.

  “I missed you today,” I whisper.

  Zane kisses my lips. “So did I.”

  I smile, certain I’m blushing even though he can’t see it and then we’re floating together. Each bounce in the water gets us closer to being on the other side of the platform. Our bodies are draped in darkness from the shadow of a large magnolia tree, while the moonlight hits the water a few feet away.

  Zane crushes his lips to mine. We kiss for a while. I want him to fuck me. I squirm against his hardness through the thin pants he’s wearing.

  “You haven’t been around,” I complain.

  “I know, Liv,” he whispers, kissing my lips while he slips a finger inside of me and groans.

  I tug my bathing suit to the side, when he pulls himself out. We shift and grind in the water, while his hardness brushes along the inside of my thighs. I wrap my arms around his neck and snuggle closer to him. Zane reaches up behind me and curls his fingers around a metal pole that sticks out from the top of the platform. My eyes trace the cut lines of his powerful arm which leads down to his big left shoulder. Good god, he’s beautiful.

  I jerk my attention back to the party frantically, when he grips me tighter.

  Wrapped Around Your Finger by The Police blares from the speakers now. A few groupies dance and bounce around to the music. Bottles break, people laugh and sing but the party carries on. The fire pit on the deck is now lit.

  “They can’t see us, Liv.” He hums the tune against the shell of my ear.

  The feeling of his warm wet skin sends a bolt of electricity through me that settles hot and desperate between my thighs. I kiss him again and moan, when his flesh—thick and hard—parts my own.

  Zane

  What a fucked-up day...but it doesn’t matter. The small body I hold in my arms makes it all better. Liv moans against my lips, when I plunge into her over and over. She’s warm and wet and taking everything I have to give. I’m so fucking hard, I swear all the blood has drained from the rest of my body and it’s all in my dick.

  She rises and falls each time right in front of me, hanging onto me for dear life. I run my hands along her thighs, that have me locked in a vise and settle on her ass. I squeeze each time I slide into her. She quivers and a small whimper leaves her mouth with a loud breath, when I pull out. I blink slowly watching her. She’s hella perfection.

  “I love you,” she murmurs into the skin on my shoulder.

  I place a kiss to her forehead and focus on my stroke. Her fingers rake through my hair and her breathing is heavy. Soft moans spill from her lips that shoot straight to my balls and up the shaft of my dick. I’m desperate for this woman.

  “Liv,” I groan into her neck.

  She whimpers and a whine leaves her mouth. “I’m coming,” she says breathlessly.

  I move harder against her. The water splashes over us and it feels like it washes everything away. All the pain, the worry, and the stress. In this moment, it’s gone—never to be thought of again. I stare into her face, so she’ll never fucking forget it as she comes apart right in front of me. A mixture of moans, groans, and high-pitched sighs escape from her throat that she buries into my skin.

  I slow, kiss her lips, and pull her tighter to me. I tunnel deeper into her, feeling her clench and quiver around the length of me. The feeling hits me like a punch to the gut. I grip the metal pole above us tighter and squeeze, attempting to alleviate some of the tension in my shaft. I’m going to fucking explode but not before Liv comes again.

  I growl into the soft skin on her neck. Her eyes are droopy and her lips remain parted. I bury myself deeper and deeper. Her legs hold me tighter, nearly crushing my ribs. A cry leaves her mouth and her face twists in the most mouthwatering expression. She clenches. She squeezes me. She wrings me the fuck out.

  I’m groaning, fucking her helpless, ignoring the sharp pain that shoots through my upper arm while I hold all our weight. Liv whimpers and then a loud gasp leaves her mouth and I know she’s there. She’s right there...on the edge, waiting for me to push her over. I relax and slow, watching her come. She moans my name and digs her fingertips into my skin. I blast into her harder, desperate to be as deep inside of her as I can manage. I want to live inside this woman. I grit my teeth and still completely, letting out a loud growl. Liv’s lip quivers, when I jerk and throb hard, emptying every ounce of fucked up-ness from my day deep inside of her.

  I slump against her and whisper into her warm skin. “I love you.”

  I’ve let it all go.

  Liv

  I turn up the stereo and head outside sleepily. Man On The Moon by R.E.M. plays on the stereo at low volume. Practically everyone is gone. A few people stay behind. Yandi organizes for taxis to be called and pushes to get everyone the hell out of here. I flop on one of the lounge chairs and kick my feet up. I’m exhausted from a day of sun, swimming, and the mind-blowing orgasms I just had.

  Zane has disappeared, likely gone off to bed.

  “Did you tell him?”

  I jerk my head in the direction of the soft voice. Rachel is standing to the right of me. Her eyes look tired and blink slowly.

  “No,” I say curtly, folding my arms. “You need to learn how to lock fucking doors.”

  Rachel scoffs and lights the cigarette that’s in her hands. “Thanks.”

  “Nothing to thank me for.”

  Rachel huffs and then a small smile plays on her red lips. “I know the rest of them hate me. Have they all told you they hate me? Especially Yandi.” Her voice trails off.

  “Not in so many words.”

  Rachel takes a few draws of the cigarette. “They say I cause problems in the band.”

  Maybe you do.

  “They blame me for Cash being a user but he was already a user when I met him. I can’t be blamed for that.”

  I shrug, completely unsure about what that has to do with fucking Barry.

  “I thought you’d tell him.”

  “It’s none of my business,” I fire back, looking out to the lake.

  Rachel laughs. “I guess it isn’t. I think I like you,” she whispers nodding her head.

  Cash stumbles out and wraps a hand around Rachel’s waist, placing a kiss to her cheek. “Come on, babe.”

  He stalls when he sees me just sitting there and plops down beside me. I roll my eyes and let out a breath.

  “Are you upset with me?” Cash asks with a smirk.

  I jerk my head to the right and force a smile. “Nope, why would I be?”

  Cash chuckles softly and fiddles with the buttons on his board shorts. He’s still shirtless and barefoot and I wonder where the rest of his clothes are. He shoots up from his seat, grabs a beer from the cooler, pops the top, and plops back down next to me.

  “I’ve known Zane since I was fifteen.”

  I nod.

  “But I’ve never seen him like this. It’s like he’s on some powerful sort of tranquilizer.”

  I give him a strange look.

  “I mean Z still gets pissed off but not like he used to. Now, he just seems like he doesn’t give a fuck. At least when it comes to me.”

  “Maybe he’s tired of you,” I say softly.

  Cash chokes out a laugh and raises his palms in surrender. “Ohhhh.”

  I give him another forced smile and a wink.

  “You’ve got some fire in you, Liv.” Cash laughs.

  He takes a loud breath and slumps against the back of the lounge chair. Clearly, my comment didn’t affect him that much. I’d hoped it would make him leave.

  “We grew up in a home for unwanted kids, together. Did you know that?” he asks nudging me in the shoulder.

  “Yes, he’s told me.”

  “It was a real shit hole. I still have nightmares about it.” He laughs. “Z and Dexter were already there. I was the new dump ma
terial.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s funny though because everything about your life can change. The outside anyways. The fancy cars. The huge mansions. The big parties. The awards and hot garbage recognitions. The pretty girls. All of it can change but inside,” he says digging a finger into his chest. “Inside, you never change. You’re always going to be that new dump material,” he slurs out. “I’m always going to be that new dump material.”

  I sit speechless looking at him, unsure of what to say.

  He’s covered in more tattoos since the last time I saw him. They’re fresh and still a bit red.

  “Zane’s always been the talent of this band but I’d never say that shit to his face. Dexter and Rose admit it but I won’t.” He chuckles, taking a long swig of the beer in his hand.

  “You’re talented too.”

  Cash eyeballs me with those icy-blue marbles. “You think so?”

  “Yeah. You can sing, like really sing.”

  He sits straighter and a bright boyish smile spreads across his face. “Aww shucks, Liv. That means so much to me,” he says playfully. “That made my fucking night.”

  I giggle.

  Cash shoots up from where he’s sitting next to me and stands unsteadily. He lifts two fingers in the air and salutes to the sky. Rachel rolls her eyes from a few feet behind him.

  “Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

  I give him a funny look, stifling my laughter at his stiff-as-a-foot-soldier posture.

  “Do you know who said that, Liv?”

  “No.”

  “Plato.”

  “Okay.”

  “You don’t know who that is, do you?”

  Of course, I do.

  “No.”

  I would’ve said anything to make this conversation stop.

  “I would ask Rachel if she does but I know she doesn’t,” he mumbles looking out of the corner of his eye in her direction, then smirks.

  Cash finishes his beer and heads for the stairs, grabbing Rachel by the upper arm on the way. “If you don’t know who Plato is, just ask your brilliant boyfriend,” he teases in a silly voice. “I bet he does.”

  I let out a loud exhausted breath, stand, and head inside when they leave. When I reach our bedroom at the top of the stairs, I push the door open. The room is quiet. Slivers of moonlight cut across the floor that enter the room through the drapes. I can hear Zane breathing and see the outline of his form beneath the sheets. I sit on the edge of the bed next to him and run a hand through his thick hair that’s already dry.

  He doesn’t stir. I lean down and press a kiss to his temple. I strip out of my clothes, ease under the covers and inhale the fresh scent of his skin. He shifts to toss his arm around me and pulls me into the crook of his body.

  I don’t know what the future holds for us but I can’t see mine without him in it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Liv

  I slit the envelope with a letter opener, pull the paper out and unfold the page which reveals handwritten script.

  “Dear Mackenzie,

  We love your work and would like to represent you. Please give me a call for a chance to discuss. We have a gallery showing in New York in a few months and would like to include a few of your pieces.

  Yours sincerely,

  Amanda Kipton

  Veritas Art Dealers”

  I fold the letter closed and smile. I sent my photographs of my work anonymously a few weeks ago to a few agents. I used my middle name and a false surname, since I didn’t want anyone giving me bias opinions because they recognized my full name. I press the envelope to the center of my chest, feeling a bit of hope about my future. Maybe this was my chance, but something about displaying my work for the world to see felt crippling. I take a deep breath and stare out the window.

  It was a beautiful day. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, waking up downtown Seattle, Washington. I stand from the stool I’m sitting on and head over to the floor-to-ceiling window to get a closer look. The suite we’re in at Park Hyatt is impeccable, as always. I shift to scan the room, taking in all the empty beer bottles and trash that litters it. There was a party here last night. There’s always a party here after The Vs play, it feels like.

  The Vigilantes had already hit two small stadiums in Oregon, which sold out. Daffodil was still topping the charts and three more singles had been released since they’d been moving through the US.

  A month had passed. It was now nearing the end of July.

  Seattle was the last leg of this part of the tour. After this, it was on to the Southwest and then Zane was heading to Japan. I still hadn’t asked what exactly for.

  I look in the mirror across the room, taking in my appearance. I looked a little less than fresh. I’d joined a few more parties as of lately than usual and was drinking probably more than I ever had. Maybe this life was sucking me in too? One beer, two beers, a few shots and then I was fitting right in. I didn’t know what to think of what was happening to me. I’d accompanied Zane on interview after interview, recording sessions and photoshoots where the body parts of scantily clad models were draped over him the entire fucking time. It was enough to make me want to go on a killing spree. It was part of the business but I didn’t like it. Usually right afterwards, we fought. Then we fucked. It was exhausting.

  I scrub my face with my hands, taking in that I really feel like shit this morning. I also, in some small way, look older. Heck, I feel a little older too.

  I place the envelope on the table in the corner and pull out my laptop. I send an email to Amanda Kipton, letting her know I received her letter. I promise to call her soon, along with providing her photographs of the recent work I’ve completed since I left California. Quietly, I shut it.

  A knock lands on the door. I stand and head towards it, still only dressed in a T-shirt wearing nothing underneath. A tiny woman in uniform stands in front of me holding a broom. A man is behind her, who is dressed similarly.

  “Good morning,” she says in a sweet voice, craning her neck to look behind me.

  They both meet my eyes and grimace.

  “We will just be a few minutes,” she says. “We can let ourselves out.”

  “Thanks,” I whisper sheepishly, moving to the side to allow them in. They get to work picking up trash and straightening things up. There’s enough empty bottles lying around to recycle for a century.

  I sigh and move to the kitchen, noticing how much my head is pounding. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like what was happening to me but I reasoned maybe it wasn’t so bad. The tour would be ending soon and then all this would stop.

  Pouring myself a glass of orange juice, I use it to wash down the acetaminophen tablets. I snatch a fresh pastry and some fruit from the fridge and haul everything into the bedroom. Pushing the door open, I take in Zane’s sleeping form. I set everything out and take a seat at a small table near a window across the room. I eat slowly, still feeling sleepy.

  Zane sits up. His hair is mussed and his chest is bare. He stands, groans, and makes his way to the bathroom. The water turns on. He emerges, wiping his face with a towel. He places it down and heads towards me, dips down, and places a kiss to my lips. He grabs a croissant and tears into it ravenously. Slowly, he heads back to the bed, slips under the covers, and hits the window shades to come down partially throwing the room into darkness. His back is against the headboard where he sits upright, running his hands through his black hair a few times. He lets out a breath and looks around.

  I finish my food and the orange juice. Making my way to the bed, I peel out of my T-shirt. Zane groans. I crawl up the bed and straddle him, placing my hands on his big shoulders. I rub myself along the length of him, noticing he’s already hard. I kiss his lips, sucking on the top one, feeling his stubble against my mouth.

  Zane’s hands slide up my sides. He gives me a lazy look that’s still sexy. “How long have you been up?”

  “A little while,” I s
ay mushing his lips, when I kiss him again.

  I reach into his boxer briefs and wrap my hand around him. He’s rock hard and hot. I rise and slide down onto him, which forces a loud groan out of his mouth that pierces the silence. My mouth parts when his large hands squeeze my breasts. I lean forward, allowing him to take each nipple into his mouth. His lips release each of them with a loud pop, leaving a wet patch when he releases them. I rise and fall slowly on top of him, feeling his length slide in and out of my wetness. We fit so perfectly.

  “You’re so wet.”

  I move faster. Soft cries and whimpers leave my mouth. My hand tightens around the back of his neck when I shift positions slightly. I’m impaling myself on his thickness like a madwoman, desperate to sheath him completely. Zane groans and the bed creaks as I rise and fall, allowing his flesh to part me over and over. Heat spreads throughout my body and gathers at my middle.

  I kiss Zane desperately chasing my come that is so close.

  “Liv,” he whispers, letting out a hoarse sound as his hands settle at my hips.

  I bounce up and down, reveling in the feeling of him filling me that I never want to stop. I drop my head to watch him slide in and out of me. Zane’s fingers drag over my stomach. His thumb settles on my clit. Slowly, he begins to massage me, which only makes me more desperate. I’m panting like an animal, desperate to take him in deeper.

  He blinks those hypnotizing grey eyes slowly—no doubt taking in all my features, while I ride him like I’m at the rodeo—only I plan on staying on for longer than eight seconds. I don’t know if it’s killing me or if it’s bringing me pleasure. The mind-altering sensations seem to have become one. I’m out of control, bared to him, exposed in every way imaginable.

  I gasp and my insides tighten and release slowly. I’m pulsing and clenching hard around him. An explosion of sounds leaves my mouth, most of which sound like I’m in agony but it’s anything but. This feels good—so fucking good.