Ask Me Anything

by Molly E. Lee

  I was so sick of the past. So sick of it ruining every good thing about my present.

  Warm, almost timid, arms enveloped me.

  Dean tipped my chin to meet his eyes, a combination of hate, hurt, and hope swirling in those blue-grays.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, sucking in a breath.

  He furrowed his brow. “What the hell for?”

  I shrugged. “For what happened. For—”

  “Stop,” he cut me off. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong. That asshole did. And the fact that he got in your head and made you feel like you begged for it, like you made it happen…” His gaze went dark as he glanced to the side—he was somewhere far away, doing something very, very bad. The steady rise and fall of his chest brought his attention back to me. He smoothed his fingers over my cheeks. “I didn’t know,” he said. “I didn’t have a clue it was that bad.”

  “How could you?” I asked.

  “I wish… Damn it. I’m sorry.”

  “What?”

  “For pushing you. Kissing you.” The words seemed painful coming from his lips. He took a giant step back. “I shouldn’t have… If I would’ve known…”

  “Please don’t, Dean,” I said, following him as he retreated. “Don’t treat me like I’m damaged. Breakable. That’s the last thing I want.” I cringed. “Unless that’s the only way you can see me now?”

  A low growl rumbled from his chest, his hands locked in place at his sides as I stopped within an inch of his body. “You know that’s not true.”

  “I don’t know anything,” I said, shaking my head. “Except for the way I feel when I’m with you.”

  “And,” he said, “what do you feel?”

  “Safe.”

  A sigh flew from his lips as he reached for me again, his hand soft and strong as it slid from my cheek to my neck. “Pixie,” he said, and my entire body reacted to the way his tongue curled around my alias. “All I want to do is erase every bad mark he left on your soul.” He inched his forehead down, leaning it against mine. “But I know you don’t need me to. I know you, Pixie, and you’re strong enough to heal yourself. I’ll never push you. Never ask you for more than you want to give. But, please, let me be here for you. In any way I can.”

  A bubbly laugh flew from my lips as I smiled up at him. “I’m not strong right now,” I said, my cheeks flushing. “Because I can’t stop thinking about how good your lips feel on mine.”

  Another low growl, this a test of willpower as I popped up on my tiptoes to brush my lips over his.

  “Is that…wrong of me?” I asked, sinking back down when he held so still I wasn’t sure he was breathing. I chewed on my lip. “Should I not want this with you? Because it hasn’t even been a year yet?”

  “It’s not wrong,” he said. “Unless it feels that way.”

  I shook my head. “Everything I do with you…it feels beyond right.”

  A small smile shaped his lips.

  “Dean?” I asked, my voice soft as I smoothed my hand over his chest.

  “Pixie?”

  “Kiss me?” My heart filled my throat, damn near blocked the words, but within two blinks, Dean had stolen the little breath I’d managed.

  His lips on mine. A sweet, long, and gentle kiss. Hot enough to make my eyes flutter shut and my body arch into his.

  “I want this, Amber. I want you,” he said against my lips, barely breaking our kiss. “I just don’t want to cross any lines. I don’t want you regretting a thing with me.”

  “Not possible,” I said, gasping for breath as he kissed it from me. I jumped—knowing he’d catch me—and hooked my legs around his hips. He groaned, sinking onto the bed, my knees on either side of him while our lips never broke.

  Warm, electric tingles buzzed underneath my skin, humming everywhere he touched. His hands were gentle as they slid up my back, in my hair, and down again, holding me to him like he couldn’t get close enough.

  Everything in my heart screamed more.

  Everything in my gut told me it was right.

  Months of connecting with others through the blog, of taking action with communication, and laying myself bare just now…I’d somehow managed to let go of my past.

  I’d become the girl I’d always loved being again.

  And now I was confidently, hopelessly lost in Dean’s kiss.

  Dean—my confidant, my challenger, my friend.

  He made me feel like his while still being solely me.

  That was enough to shatter the walls I’d built around my heart, and in the span of a few beats, it belonged to him.

  Slowly, I pulled my lips from his and reached across the bed to turn off the lamp on the side table. Heart hammering against my chest, I returned to the bed, lying on my side to face him. I traced the line of his jaw with my fingers, trailing them over his neck and down his chest, until I found the hem. Trembling slightly, I explored the taut skin underneath, sparks of heat traveling in my blood as he gripped my hip and pulled me closer. I hitched my leg over his hip, our bodies aligned as I found his lips again.

  God, he tasted good. Felt good. The warmth from him enveloping me…his scent, the way he kissed me like my mouth was something to be savored.

  “Dean,” I said, sighing against his lips.

  He pulled back an inch, his hand stilling on my hip, his other occupied with propping his head up to look down at me. “Too far?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

  “Not even close,” I said, hating that I could be as vocal as I wanted on the blog but was nervous to tell him what I wanted.

  I licked my lips, loving that they tasted of him, and grabbed his hand on my hip. I lightly kissed his fingers before moving them over my breasts, and lower, until I settled him beneath the hem of my pajama pants.

  “Amber,” he half said, half growled, his eyes never leaving mine. Somehow, that intense look, the connection between us was more intimate than where our hands currently rested.

  “I want to know what it’s like,” I said.

  “What what is like?” he whispered.

  “To be touched when it’s wanted. By someone who really…” I couldn’t find the right words, my head swimming with desire and excitement and nerves. “Please,” I continued. “I trust you. And I’m yours. If you’ll have me.”

  “Pixie,” he said before crushing his lips on mine. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

  A whimper escaped the back of my throat at his declaration, at the current buzzing between us. I trusted him more than I’d ever trusted anyone in my life.

  I drew my hand away from his, my body arching on its own against his gentle touch as he traced the seam of my underwear. I moaned from the contradicting contact—the passion of his kiss and the sweet, almost tease of his fingers.

  The sound must have unleashed something inside him, because he groaned against my lips before dipping his hand beneath the piece of fabric separating us.

  I gasped at the contact, at the feel of his callused fingers against the warmth of my skin. Tiny bolts of electricity tickled their way up my spine as he explored me, and the heat was so much I was sure I would explode. His touch was gentle and searing at the same time, his kiss consuming. I moved against him, with him, until everything inside me was detached and tangled. Until my body was a coiled spring.

  And just when I thought I couldn’t handle a second more without combusting, Dean broke our kiss for long enough to pin me with his gaze before his eyes trailed to where he touched me, where he held me, and back up again. Holding me on the edge of a cliff when I was dying to fly.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, and pressed his lips against mine.

  The hunger in his kiss, in his touch, unleashed that spring inside me, and I gasped as my body trembled, tumbled, and sparked, until I could do nothing but fall apart in his arms.

  Chapter
Twenty

  Amber

  Mom: I hope you had an awesome night!

  Mom: Have you seen this? Interesting morning read.

  Mom: www.brtv.com/protests

  I leaned against the hotel bed’s headboard, reading the texts Mom sent earlier this morning, my stomach dropping at the link she’d shared with me.

  I glanced at Dean, who slept peacefully to my right, his hands curled under the pillow. Sometime in the night—after he’d taken me somewhere I’d never been before—I’d wound up tangled in his arms. It was the best sleep I’d had in months.

  Content with his light snores, I clicked the link on my cell.

  Parents are Protesting Peer-Led Sex Advice Blog on Dark Web: Ask Me Anything

  Acid frothed in the back of my jaw as I read the headline. I swallowed hard before scrolling down to read the article that a local news station had picked up due to a parent’s complaints.

  Susan Mercury reached out to BRTV yesterday in a drastic effort to bring awareness to parents who may not know about the teen-led sex advice blog that is rapidly growing popular among students in surrounding high schools.

  “It’s a blatant disregard for authority,” Mercury is quoted. “Whoever is writing this blog has no respect for what parents are teaching their children at home. Or for the professionals in the schools. They work tirelessly to construct the perfect and approved curriculum. School officials left off sex advice for obvious reasons.”

  Mercury discovered the blog when she caught her teenage daughter reading a post about oral sex on her phone.

  “If I wanted my daughter to be on birth control, she would be,” Mercury says. “And if she has questions regarding when sex is appropriate, she should come to me. Not some faceless blog. Who knows who is truly behind it. What if it’s a predator? We have to protect the children.”

  Mercury’s call to action has spread throughout her community, despite her daughter not attending the blogger’s claimed high school origin—Wilmont Academy. She’s started her own online forum where parents can talk about their concerns. “I’m planning several protests,” Mercury says, “until the person responsible is held accountable for their actions.”

  Mercury stated she has already contacted the principal of Wilmont Academy, as well as the principals of the other six schools in the district. All declined to comment until more information was gathered.

  Mercury gave us the code to find the site on the dark web, where a variety of articles spanning all forms of sex advice and beyond are listed.

  Are you a parent with a child who has been affected by Ask Me Anything? Do you have a comment to make? We urge you to write us at brtv@brtv.com.

  I had to read the article twice to believe it, and even then it was a struggle.

  I’m not hurting students! I’m helping them!

  My heart plummeted into my stomach, my skin tightening over the length of my body. The traffic had increased every day, as well as the comments and replies. It was a positive force, not the negative agenda the news painted it to be.

  My previous posts flashed through my mind, and I mentally sifted through every word I’d written. I wasn’t telling people that they could have sex without consequences. I was simply answering questions plaguing those who already had or were about to. Regardless of whatever I wrote, if they were going to have sex…they would do it. With or without the blog.

  Right?

  Chewing on my bottom lip, I wondered. Surely I didn’t have that much power?

  No. No way in hell.

  And I sure as hell hadn’t given a play-by-play on how to give a blow job. I wouldn’t even know. Not that I didn’t want to learn…especially after last night, after what Dean and I had shared.

  God, the news had blown it way out of proportion.

  I’d agonized over every comment, every question, and hand-selected the ones I knew our school officials would never address and ones Google wouldn’t be helpful with. The questions that got to the heart of concerns in new relationships and spoke to fears people were too afraid to voice aloud.

  And with each question, I’d discreetly spoken to my best sources of information, my mom or dad. They unknowingly helped me construct responses that offered the same care and understanding that they handled me with.

  If Mom sent me this link…she had to have seen the blog. And she knew me. She could likely tell it was me. But she hadn’t said anything? And…

  Tanner has seen it, too.

  I gasped, quickly glancing at Dean and sighing when I realized I hadn’t woken him. Sliding out of the bed, I retreated to the bathroom, dousing my face in cold water.

  Mission accomplished.

  Ask Me Anything had reached Principal Tanner’s radar.

  Something sharp twisted in my gut. I never thought it would be protesting parents that would bring it to his attention. I thought it would be a happened-upon thing. A spare glance at the right time when a student was reading it.

  I never for one second thought parents would think I was a…

  Predator.

  Fuck.

  I hated that was even a thought that crossed their minds. That I could be some evil person luring people to divulge their most intimate questions and thoughts.

  An icy-cold shudder racked my body and I stretched my arms out over the sink, leaning with my head hanging between my shoulders.

  I’d proven myself enough to the mass of students writing in. They would never send in comments and questions if they hadn’t believed I was a Wilmont student.

  Right. Exactly.

  I repeated this to myself several times before drying my face with one of the hotel’s super-fluffy towels.

  This is fine.

  This is what I wanted.

  Okay, well, not exactly. I never wanted to rile the parents up so much they protested. But I wanted Tanner to see what was missing in his students’ lives because of his neglect to adapt to the times. Because he held his own personal beliefs over the school like it was law. Obviously there was a need for redefining the way sex and sensitive topics were approached in school—I would’ve had zero response if there wasn’t.

  Maybe he would listen now.

  Maybe the news article was blowing the parents’ anger out of proportion as well as the content on my site.

  Maybe I’m more in over my head than I even knew.

  Maybe I should torch the site and be done with it.

  My spine straightened against the thought.

  No. I wouldn’t run away and hide just because someone had gotten offended. At the heart of my challenge with Dean—this was white hat. I wasn’t hurting anyone. I was helping people find answers when all other resources failed them.

  I would, however, up the security on the site the second we made it home.

  Fingers flying fast, I typed out a text to Mom.

  Me: Last night was amazing

  Me: Tell you later. See you soon.

  Laying my cell on the counter, I spun toward the shower, needing the scalding water to rid me of the ick that parent had slathered all over me.

  Predator. Un-fucking-believable. It’s not like they said that I was giving a how-to guide on the proper way to give a blow job. Or how unprotected sex was all the rage, or something else like that.

  I rolled my eyes and scrubbed my hair a little harder than necessary.

  I may as well be if they’re already this pissed.

  The rebellious, rage-induced thought sprinted through my head, but I dismissed it just as quickly.

  Inhaling the steam from the shower, I calmed myself by focusing on last night. On the incredible weight that had lifted from my chest by telling Dean about my past. But sharing that—it helped. Just as I hoped the people who wrote in to me found some comfort in sharing their stories and questions and fears.

  What would Dean thi
nk if he knew I was behind the blog?

  Would he hold it against me? Advise me to shut it down? Question where I gathered my answers?

  No. I could tell him anything. He’d said that last night.

  Last night.

  The kisses, the way he’d touched me, the connection that crackled between us. It was intense and fantastic and made my heart race just thinking about it.

  It had been hard to slow it down. To tamper off the heat sizzling between our touches, and not take it a step further. I’d wanted to give all of myself to him last night. I was ready. But we’d agreed to wait. Dean hadn’t brought a condom, and despite being on the pill, I certainly knew how important safe sex was.

  Slow.

  We’d agreed to go so slow.

  But the most shocking element to me—more so even than the protesting parents—was that I didn’t want to go slow with Dean. Every inch of my body begged for his in a way I’d never experienced. He was like a craving that wouldn’t be slaked until I’d devoured him.

  I chuckled out loud at that, shutting off the water and wrapping myself in a towel.

  If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up enlisting Dean as an expert source for all the things I had no clue about for Ask Me Anything.

  And with how hot kissing was between us? If I dared to write about anything more?

  The flames would be large enough to send the whole damn town into a frenzy.

  Then they’d really call for blood.

  They already are.

  The reality of that thought had me dressing in a hurry.

  We needed to get home. Get to my gear. Change the code on the site so no one could find me unless I wanted them to.

  …

  “You sure everything is cool?” Dean asked me for the second time as the train pulled into the station four hours later.

  I’d spent the entire ride half distracted—in part by the stunning boy who sat next to me, softly grazing his fingers over my palm or kissing me until my mind went blank. The other part was working on the site despite being sans computer. The article nagged in the back of my mind like an alarm I couldn’t silence.

  Everything would be okay once I triple-checked the site’s security.