“So fucking sweet,” he muttered against my pussy lips. He hummed softly on my clit ring and vivid colors exploded on the backs of my eyelids. White, pink and blue saturated my senses. Heaven couldn’t have been much better than feeling him between my thighs.
An orgasm snaked around me innocuously at first then it squeezed and ripped me into pieces without warning, leaving me screaming and gasping for breath. “Cyrus!” I shrieked. My muscles tensed but in the next breath, they were butter, smooth and useless.
“Good morning,” he grinned baring straight white teeth against honey skin. I attacked his lips with mine, needing to taste the violent way he made me cum.
“You…I…I’ve never been woken up like that before,” I stammered. My heart was finally starting to slow down instead of slamming against my chest like an open screen door during a storm.
“Nobody ever woke you up by eating your pussy?” He touched my cheek then slid his hands down to my breasts. He seemed to be in love with the barbells piercing my nipples. “You haven’t been appreciated properly.”
“I guess not…shit.” I’d never heard my voice come out of my mouth so easy and relaxed. Cyrus did some kind of voodoo on me. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and saw twelve missed calls. Seven were from Leonard and five were from Joan.
“Here,” Cyrus tossed me a soft white t-shirt and I pulled it on over my head. It smelled just like him. I didn’t realize until right then that I’d recorded his scent to memory. I’d been around him day after day in the youth group meeting room, in his office and in church and the scent of eucalyptus and leather had settled into my senses as Cyrus.
I held the collar of the shirt to my nose and inhaled deeply. It made me momentarily forget that I had a ton of calls and texts to return. “I’ll fix you something to eat after I get out of the shower and we can talk over breakfast.” Cyrus slid his eyes down my body then smirked as if he were listening to a joke in his head.
“What’s so funny?” I quizzed, folding my arms.
“How different you are when you’re not suited in armor. You’re beautiful.” I looked at him with a blank expression until he disappeared behind the bathroom door, then a smile ate up space on my face until my cheeks burned.
He thought I was beautiful and I could tell he was being honest. Most of the time when men told me I was beautiful they had lust in their eyes dancing like toxic flames. When Cyrus said it though, he looked relieved like he was happy to finally see the real me.
The thought made me spring to my feet and rush to the mirror at his dresser. In the bathroom, I could hear the rushing sound of shower water and smell the eucalyptus in Cyrus’ soap. Even something as simple as his damn soap made me smile. That’s when I saw it.
I saw the real Bellamy.
She wasn’t scowling or ready to fight. She wasn’t scheming or guarding her heart. Right then she was content and she was safe. She was…happy.
I ran my fingers through my cropped pixie haircut then glanced over my shoulder at my phone on the bed.
Fuck Leonard.
Fuck Joan.
I wanted to be happy even if it were just for a moment in time. I didn’t want to let anyone in my world right then who would threaten my happiness.
When Cyrus’ doorbell rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin and I saw a flash of my guarded self slip through. I looked toward the bathroom and waited to see if Cyrus heard the doorbell. When he didn’t say anything, I went to the living room and stood in the middle of the floor. I was out of my element. I didn’t know if I should open the door or not.
The smell of ashes from the fireplace floated through the air as I stood, stuck. The doorbell rang again and I wet my lips with my tongue before walking over to the door and looking out of the window on the side.
It was Pax.
My chest felt a little lighter after I pushed out a heavy breath and unlocked the door. When he laid eyes on me in just a t-shirt…in just Cyrus’ t-shirt, he smirked and rubbed his chin before walking in.
“Good morning, Halle Berry. Is uh…Cy here?” He looked around and took his hat off, tucking it under his arm. Cyrus’ shower shut off one second after Pax asked about him and I was left standing there with an awkward smile.
“Yeah, he was showering.” I pointed my thumb toward Cyrus’ room and Pax gave me a slow nod.
“I didn’t see your truck outside,” Pax said, sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace.
“Yeah, I got rid of it.” I sat in a chair to the left of the fireplace and pulled my feet under my body. The smoky smell of the burned wood was still thick. It made me want another roaring fire like last night. I felt so comfortable and warm.
“Yo, Bellamy…you out here?” Cyrus rounded the corner in nothing but a black towel and dripping wet golden muscles that made my pussy ache with memories of last night.
That man was fine beyond anything I could have fathomed. Even if someone asked me to paint a picture of my perfect man, I wouldn’t be able to concoct someone as sexy as Cyrus. I opened and closed my mouth but no words came out. What was there to say besides damn?
“Yo, Pax. What’s up? I’ll be right back. Let me put on some clothes,” he chuckled and motioned for me to follow him. I hopped the fuck up. What else was I going to do? Just let all that glistening muscle walk by me?
“Why didn’t you tell me Pax was at the door?” Cyrus asked once we were in his room with the door locked.
“I don’t know. He’s your best friend, I figured you wouldn’t mind me opening the door for him.”
“I don’t mind it, I just wish you would have told me. I would have given you some pants,” he frowned at my bare legs then slid his finger up my thigh. It vanished beneath the hem of the shirt and I bit my bottom lip. His touch slid along the junction of my hip and thigh and I braced myself on his strong shoulder.
“So…you sure you didn’t just call me back here to feel me up?” I laughed a little and sandwiched Cyrus’ face between my hands.
“I called you back here so you could put on some pants.” The thick erection behind his towel said otherwise though. I leaned forward until our lips met then I slipped my hand behind the towel and stroked his cock.
“Do we have time for a quickie?” I purred. Cyrus filled me with a hunger that I’d never had before. I wanted him inside of me all the time. I needed more.
“I’ll give you more than a quickie after breakfast and after we talk.” That answer wasn’t good enough for me. I was ravenous.
So I lowered to my knees and yanked the towel from around his waist, letting it hit the floor. “Bellamy,” he warned. His deep voice didn’t do much else but turn me on and make my private parts go wet all at once.
I took him in my mouth and moaned at how fresh he tasted. Before I deep throated him, I pulled back and looked up into his eyes. “As soon as you cum in my mouth, we can go.”
“Fuck.” He tipped his head back and I went to work sucking and slurping Cyrus’ thick dick until my jaws burned. Once he started thrusting in and out of my mouth, I knew it would only be a matter of time before he came and I felt his heat slipping down my throat.
He grabbed a handful of my short hair and pumped in and out of my mouth. My tongue swirled lethal loops on the sensitive head of his dick while he groaned quietly. “I’m about to nut in your mouth, Bellamy. You sure you want to swallow?” I looked up at Cyrus with unapologetic greed in my eyes and dug my fingertips into his strong hips, pushing him all the way into my mouth.
The crown of his dick touched my tonsils. Hot tears pricked my eyes before rolling down my cheeks. I wanted every drop of him and he gave it to me in silky spurts down my throat.
He tasted even better than I imagined. I moaned while I swallowed his cum and the vibrations skittering across his throbbing dick made his knees buckle a bit. I gave him a satisfied smile when he leaned against the door for support.
“Holy fuck. Your mouth is amazing.”
“Your dick is amazing. I only suck dick like t
hat when I really like someone,” I told him. I didn’t tell him that he was the only man I ever really liked.
“Yeah, well make sure I’m the only one you like from now on. I think you sucked my dick and flipped a crazy switch inside me or something.”
“Oh, you mean like the one you hit last night when you were murdering me in bed? That one?” I laughed and took the pair of sweats he handed me. After Cyrus got dressed, we made our way to the living room where Pax made himself at home on the couch, scrolling through Netflix and munching on something out of a clear Ziploc bag. He’d started a fire and everything. I laughed when I noticed his shoes were off and his feet were propped up on the coffee table.
“Yall done?” He asked, finishing the last bit of food in his bag.
“Done…praying?” Cyrus cracked a smile that told me even he didn’t buy the bullshit he was selling.
“Praying?” Pax lifted an eyebrow. “Is that the new word for fucking now?”
“Nobody was fucking. I might have given him a little head but that’s it.” I swore with my hand in the air. Cyrus shot me an incredulous look and I giggled from behind my hands.
He had me absolutely fucking giddy after one night.
Get your shit together Bellamy. He has a daughter, which means he has a woman he cared about. They probably still fuck.
I tried to wash the thought away by walking into the kitchen and turning on the water. I had no reason for doing it other than I wanted to concentrate on any other noise besides the toxic one in my head.
“Pax, I’m making breakfast, you want some?” Cyrus came up behind me in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around my waist. How could something so small make me feel so amazing? The toxic voice in my head was snuffed out as I melted into his arms.
“Yeah, always. Make me a plate, please,” he called back.
When Cyrus pulled a pot out of the fridge, I frowned at it and stood back to watch him. When the top came off, I realized it was spaghetti. Irritability ruffled my feathers and I shook my head vehemently.
“No. You are not making leftover spaghetti for breakfast, Cyrus.”
“What? You don’t like spaghetti?” He laughed.
“Actually, I don’t. I fucking hate it,” I snapped. The smile melted from his face and his lips turned to a straight line.
“What’s wrong, Bellamy. You’re not going to tell me this shit is over spaghetti.”
“I just hate fucking spaghetti, okay? Make some eggs or something.”
That’s right, Bellamy. Blow up at him like the unpredictable bomb you are. Blow his fucking head off over spaghetti.
“O…kay. Everything cool?” Cyrus asked. Nerves jittered around in my stomach making it hard to concentrate.
“Yeah, everything is fine.” I walked out of the kitchen and into Cyrus’ bedroom. It still smelled like his soap in the air. I fell on the bed ready to beat myself up. Why did I let him see me flip out like that? He probably thinks I’m insane if he didn’t before.
Ten minutes alone with my thoughts and my chest was tight, restricting every breath I took. For the first time since I’d walked through Cyrus’ front door, my head started to pound.
What if I made myself look stupid? He clearly had no idea how I felt about something stupid like spaghetti. He was just trying to feed me.
“Hey, Bellamy are you okay?” He knocked before he came into his own bedroom. He was too good. He was one of those people that make other good people smile with their hearts.
He thought I was something. He thought I was worthy.
I wasn’t.
I was far too broken for someone as good as Cyrus.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d break him and make him just like me.
I looked up at him with salty tears swimming in my eyes. I had to hone in on something besides my crippling self-doubt so I listened to the TV in the living room.
“Bellamy, you wanna tell me what’s going on?”
“Not really.” I stood up and looked for my keys. I had to do something to occupy myself. I couldn’t stay in Cyrus’ house and fuck him and lay in bed beside him like there was hope for us to actually become a couple.
“Listen, I gotta go, Cyrus. Don’t bother fixing me a plate. Give Pax my food.” My stomach rumbled in protest and I wanted to curse at it. Cyrus frowned and stood in the doorway blocking me from leaving.
“Where are you going? Can you talk to me?”
“No. I can’t. I need to go.” I had my phone in one hand and my keys in the other. I would push past him if I had to. Cyrus wasn’t going to put his hands on me. He wasn’t the type.
“You expect me to let you walk the fuck out after everything we shared?” He pled with me, his brown eyes softer and sweeter than anything I deserved. I didn’t deserve kindness and warmth. I didn’t deserve the type of person that he was.
“I gotta go.” I aimed my shoulder at his chest and pushed past, leaving him scrambling behind me. My throat was a tight knot when I heard him call out my name before I hit the front door.
I hated ripping myself away from him. He was safe and comfortable. I didn’t have headaches when he was around.
I had to get away to think though.
I found myself on the train headed toward the only place I had left to go.
Cross Point.
***
There was always something going on at church no matter what day it was. I learned that after Joan started dragging me to Cross Point. I’d never really been to church before that. My entire knowledge of church stemmed from hearing other people talk and watching TV.
When I walked through the familiar double doors, I bypassed the small group meeting in the main church and went to the back where the youth group meetings were held. Seeing the words You Belong Here on the warm orange walls calmed me down. I sat on the couch and sighed softly, staring at the words trying to force myself to believe them.
I probably fucked things up with Cyrus. It’s what I did. I was incapable of having nice things or being around nice people.
I wanted it to be different with Cyrus though. I liked him. I liked him more than I wanted to admit, actually. If I were being honest then I’d admit to myself that the first time I saw him in The Baccarat Bar that there was something different about his entire vibe.
My stomach twisted thinking about the way I left his place. I was wearing his clothes too. I looked down at the white t-shirt and gray sweats and chewed on my bottom lip. How was it possible to miss someone you just saw twenty minutes ago? How deep had he traveled in my head in such a short time?
“Bellamy.” Cyrus’ deep voice grabbed me and yanked me out of my own head. I stared up at him like he’d performed some kind of magic trick by showing up in the place where he fucking worked. “You’re not leaving this room until you talk to me and let me know what the fuck is going on.”
“Pastors can’t curse in church,” I said, my voice dry. No matter how fucked up I felt inside, I’d die if I didn’t throw a little sarcasm his way.
A smile hooked the corners of his mouth and pulled them up a little as he walked over to me. He smelled like icy December air when he sat beside me. He even brought a little of the outside chill with him. I shivered a bit at the cool air still clinging to him and he pulled me closer.
“I hate spaghetti,” I began with a deep breath.
“Clearly. Now, tell me why.” The way his fingertips brushed my hair off my face made me weak.
“It was the first meal I had after my mother dropped me off and left me forever. Every fucking time I moved from one foster family to another, that seemed to be the first thing everyone cooked. I remembered hearing how easy it was and how all kids loved it. I hated it. Every time I smelled it, I was reminded that I had been uprooted yet again. That the threat of violence or neglect or…rape was new and fresh.” My voice buckled under the mass of past trauma and I dissolved into a ball of tears that I couldn’t hold back.
Something about being around Cyrus made me feel safe enough to cry th
ough, so I let it all out. He kissed the top of my head and rubbed my back in comforting swirls that slowed my sobs down significantly. I pulled in staggered breaths then looked up at him.
“I didn’t know, Bellamy,” he said.
“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have blown up like that. I just…I don’t know how else to handle things, Cyrus. I’m a fuck up. A bomb full of twisted shrapnel and jagged memories.”
“You’re a bomb but you have to realize that you don’t have to detonate around every corner. You knew I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I wasn’t trying to conjure up your painful past. I had no way of knowing that spaghetti was a trigger for you,” he frowned.
“It’s fine. I know you probably wanted to give me the whole we-shouldn’t-have-fucked speech after breakfast anyway, right? Me leaving should have made things easier for you.”
Cyrus’ handsome face crumpled into a frown as he regarded me. “What?”
“You heard me,” I said, sliding away from him.
“Bellamy, after what we shared last night is that what you think I was going to talk to you about this morning?”
“Isn’t it? How much you regret sticking your dick in me because I’m so troubled and you’re so…good.” My bottom lip trembled and my chest ached. My inadequacies were too much for me to shoulder right then.
“Stop that shit,” Cyrus boomed making me flinch. He rubbed his forehead and sighed out an apology. “That’s not how I feel. Stop putting feelings in my head. You can’t tell me how I feel about you just because you feel that way about yourself.” He took my face in his hands and dotted my forehead with kisses.
He looked into my eyes and said, “When I first saw you I noticed something different. It was something besides your beauty that kept me thinking about you long after we’d first seen each other at the bar.
I know you have issues, Bellamy but so do I. Even though I’m a pastor here, I’m not perfect. Far from it. Sometimes I don’t even know if I should be a pastor or not. Sometimes it doesn’t seem like I’m cut out for it.”
“You’re such a good person though. You have a mom and a dad and you help fucked up kids like me. You have your shit together, Cyrus. You don’t need to worry about someone like me.” The tears wouldn’t stop rolling. They wet my neck and bled into Cyrus’ t-shirt. I used the soft cotton to wipe my shiny cheeks.
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