by Elena Monroe
My mouth was open in shock. He did not use those words until now. My mind spun. The feelings he hinted to, that he admitted to, was love? Oliver loves me?
He got more comfortable between my legs letting his body touch mine. He looked at me like he was analyzing my inner thoughts. “I didn’t take your virginity or our relationship lightly, Layla. You think I’m that fucked up?”
I hadn’t been this comfortable in months, as I was between her legs, looking down at her.
I could tell she wanted to question everything and find reasons to not give in to me. Her focus was on figuring out if I had sex while she was back home, far away from campus. She wasn’t experienced enough to realize my heavy breathing wasn’t a choice, but a forced effect of celibacy. I felt fourteen again.
Her hands lightly touched my chest, and her brows furrowed. “No, no! I’m just not used to you telling me how you feel…”
“I’m more of a do than a tell guy.”
She bit her lip under me, and I knew she believed me. I didn’t have to keep proving I stayed loyal. My fingers pulled at her shirt that I had already partially unbuttoned in the classroom. I kissed her chest and down her cleavage, eliciting a moan that escaped from her lips.
Just hearing the noise made my cock awaken.
I pushed her shirt up, making her sit up, so I could pull it completely off. Even if she wasn’t as innocent as people made her out to be, her bra certainly looked innocent. The thin fabric seemed childish without any lace or pushing everything up at attention. She unclipped the back behind her, and all I had to do was pull the material down her arms away from her.
Dipping my head down to meet her hard nipples, I sucked the metal piercings into my mouth. The metal, with the faint taste of a penny, always made my mouth water. She was my lucky penny.
Her hips pushed against mine, begging for more than just my mouth. I was waiting for my favorite moment when her breath would catch in her throat, and my name came out as a moan.
I kissed down her stomach to the top of her jeans. Her hands reached for my hands, arms, or anything to hold onto. I expertly unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down her legs that I manipulated into bending for me.
“Oliver…”
I couldn’t have been any harder than I was right now. My cock was clearly outlined in my jeans, pushing against the fabric and begging to be free.
I left her panties on before I laid down next to her on the bed to get my own jeans off easier. Tugging them off was easy; I was motivated. My length sprung out of my boxer briefs still aching for relief. I couldn’t help wrapping my hand around myself and stroking the length a few times before I reached for a condom.
Layla was more eager than I had ever seen her. Discontent with the pause we took for me to put a condom on.
She didn’t know what she was missing, to enjoy every moment of ecstasy, only to have it taken away for months. I could see the desperation in her eyes. I watched her push her panties down, tossing them over me, and they landed on the floor softly.
She was distracting me from putting the condom on, while she leaned over to kiss my neck, bridging the gap I gave us to do so. My hands shook, like I had espresso shots one after the other, making me look inexperienced. Finally, the latex rolled down me as I sat up further.
With my hands on her thighs, I guided her to straddle me, but her lips never stopped kissing my neck. I felt so much tension I could have just came from her kisses.
I pulled away from her kissing and cupped her face, “Layla, I’ve never… done this.”
She smiled, but didn’t laugh. “What do you mean? We’ve had plenty of sex.”
She was right. I had more sex than I wished to contemplate, with and without her. But, making love, that was another story, and I just confessed to loving her. I couldn’t fuck her in all the dirty ways I wanted after those words spilled from my mouth. Something about saying those words to someone makes you instantly vulnerable, fragile, and even the hardest parts of you now delicate.
Our lips pressed together, tasting her, before I pulled away to answer. I felt odd admitting this to her. “No, I mean… I’ve never made love, Layla… not like this.”
Was I damaged for never experiencing this new level of intimacy?
Her expression softened, as my hands cupped her face.
“Me either,” she said.
I whispered, “I love you,” against her lips, before she whispered it back. Our confession made our lips softer, as we kissed—not aggressive or hungry, but gentle.
I wrapped my fingers around myself again in every intention of guiding myself into her. My cock was so hard it didn’t need help or guidance, just a right angle. My hand pushed against her ass as she sat down deeper, and I slid inside her easily. She was soaking wet for me. I held my tongue, making sure I didn’t speak. All the words I would say would sound too dirty for what this was.
Making love.
She whimpered, even with me inside her, before her hips moved. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, watching her adjust to my size and her shallow breaths, mixed with moans. She leaned down, shaking, and she hadn’t rolled her hips on top of me once. I pushed her down and got comfortable between her legs once more.
It had been months without relief. I had to remind myself this wasn’t about simply getting off, but about proving how I felt.
My hands pressed down against the taut skin on either side of her rib cage, and her arms wrapped around my neck. My thrusts were slower, softer than normal, but she still hugged me in a way that made me feel a part of her.
Acceptance.
I lowered down onto my elbows, letting our bodies rub as my hips pushed further between her legs, making our breaths even more labored. Her out-of-breath moans against my shoulder made it hard to hold out. I clenched my teeth, silencing myself, putting all my focus on Layla under me.
I covered her neck and chest with kisses, keeping my pace steady, careful not to quicken, no matter how good she felt. I didn’t care about the fading marks anymore; Hunter faded right along with them. Her legs were shaking against my hips, not his, and that’s all that mattered.
I knew she was okay, but I asked anyways, “Are you okay, Layla?”
She bit her lip before pushing her head back, “Yes, yes… I love you, Oliver.”
Her arms wrapped around my neck tighter, and it spilled from my mouth before I could think twice. “I love you, Layla.”
We were both sweating and exhausting ourselves by how much slower we purposely went. Our lips dragged against each other’s skin, as I thrust between her legs, until we both felt relieved. It wasn’t until we recovered that I felt drained.
I guess that was another reason I avoided this: I didn’t need to be so exhausted I couldn’t leave someone else’s bed.
She cuddled into me. “Let’s never leave our bubble.”
She told me all about being home again, and how she felt like Alice, not quite fitting—too overgrown.
I told her, “That’s not Alice; that’s bravery. It takes bravery to feel powerful enough to feel bigger than your past.”
She traced my tattoos, taking them in closely, without asking the meanings or if they hurt, like most people did. I wanted to ask about Hunter… What truly happened? Why did she bring him to that party? Were they friends now? Did I need permission to break his nose all over again if I wanted to? I retraced my thoughts…Wait, permission? That couldn’t be my thoughts up there running ramped. I don’t ask for permission.
Something about Layla made me want to be better, but I wasn’t sold it was a better version of me.
I pulled out my phone and saw the messages from all my friends, each personalizing their disappointment—all expect Aspen. He was taking this harder, and I had to talk to him without Layla around. She still needed to be in the dark. I was trying to justify my decisions by staying clean for the exact amount of time we had reunited.
Hayley’s message surprisingly wasn’t about the family meeting earlier, but another an
nual gathering on campus funded by our other families. Typically, there were four events a year we weren’t obligated to go to, but our professors and parents bled it into our coursework, making sure the pressure came from beyond them.
I’ve had professors profess their respect and admiration for my dad. In the same breath, they would lighten my assignments around the events, in exchange for an introduction to the Devil himself.
The only joy in the whole scenario was the visual of disappointment spreading if they knew how evil he truly was. I fantasized about it more than I should. When I was younger, before I knew better, I even hoped his heavy hand would hit somewhere someone would notice. I plotted to tear him down, even at my naive age. He was always smarter, never allowing anyone to ever forget.
I kissed Layla’s hair, as she cuddled closer into my side, and said, “Don’t make plans next weekend.”
I wish girls weren’t so curious. I wish they just accepted words as they sounded, but instead they needed the spaces filled with details. “What’s next weekend?”
“Fundraiser. I’ll be forced to go, like last time. It’s on campus this time, in the library.”
I watched her expression melt into pure joy at the mention of the library. “I love that library! It’s amazing!”
I smirked; it wasn’t good enough for a laugh, “At least one of us is excited.”
I couldn’t comprehend what I was feeling in this moment… Content? Happy? Accepted? All of those feelings were foreign to me. But here I was, feeling less scared, less hostile, less guarded than I ever had before, with Layla against me. She was fighting her good girl tendencies and staying awake with me into the hours that were only meant for the vicious.
No good sinning ever happened in the daylight. Those weren’t the kind of people who wanted the clarity of the sunlight to pour under and over the bent reality of our mistakes.
Last night was the first time in years that I slept in my own bed, for more than a few hours. That part of addiction never wore off: the late nights and lack of sleep. That was constant and one of the only constants in my life for that long.
Layla was sleeping perfectly, with her arms tucked under her face like a cherub you see in photos. It made me laugh; she didn’t even realize how much Hunter, or even me, didn’t stain that resilient innocence. She was hellbent on erasing it completely. I always liked watching her sleep when I’d carefully get out of bed once she fell asleep. It always distracted me from my books, writing, TA bullshit…
Elizabeth and Jade never possessed this part of me: my attention…my decency.
I knew I had time to sneak out for coffee and slip a pit stop in to see Aspen. I knew exactly where he’d be at 7am: the gym on campus. We all had routines that we never deviated from, except on weekends. We all learned that freshman year, when we stopped getting any coursework done. We were all distracted by everything else, like the parties, the new sea of people, being on our own for the first time…
I pushed into my shoes as quietly as I could and pulled on whatever jeans were crinkled on the floor in front of me. I smelled the shirt I had on yesterday, quickly, before I decided it was fine. I wasn’t going to class until this afternoon, and by then, I could come up with something else. There was bound to be something clean in my gym bag, which I hadn’t used in months.
The gym wasn’t packed. Only the truly dedicated worked in weights this early. I worked out at night, when I couldn’t sleep. I sat in my car for a longer pause than I intended, pondering what I was even going to say. A simple “sorry” didn’t really cover this kind of mistake. It never did. I abandoned that word when it stopped changing anyone’s expression. If being vulnerable enough to say sorry wasn’t enough, then why bother?
I walked in, nodding in the direction of the guy behind the desk without stopping. Making sure I was a student wasn’t priority; it was clear I wasn’t working out in jeans and Vans. I made my way to the back beyond the stationary equipment to where the weights lived.
Aspen was bench pressing when I found him with the headphones loud enough for me to hear it too. I stood above him far enough into his eye line without invading too much personal space. Something I’ve mastered, walking that fine line between personal and impersonal. He squinted in confusion, as he put the weight back on the rack and sat up, pushing the headphones down to fall around his neck like a fallen crown. I sat on the bench across from him, still contemplating what to say even now.
“It’s early as shit. What are you doing here?”
I pushed my hands in the pockets of my jacket, “You seemed the most upset with me.”
Aspen was upset right now. It read all over his stiff body: his inability to make eye contact and the lack of some kind of greeting we always at least attempted.
He stayed silent, and I felt obligated to fill the space by talking, “I wasn’t thinking… or trying to hurt anyone... besides myself, I guess.”
He shifted uncomfortably, “It’s not you, Ollie… at least, not just you fucking up. Maddison is starting classes this semester.”
Maddison was his weak point, even in her absence.
I kept questioning why she would come back to our school—the same one with Aspen and the new regulations that had been made that she’d certainly share blame for. I could tell he was asking himself the same question.
I knew I wasn’t good at comforting someone, but I tried anyways: “Shit. Are you gonna talk to her?”
He finally looked up at me. “Not if I have to babysit your ass from overdosing.”
I laughed. “Oh, Aspen, I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
It became clear his anger wasn’t laser pointed on me anymore, and the guilt loosened its grip. He fist crashed into my own knuckles after talking some more. I watched him settle back into place and get back to lifting before I got there. This girl was going to be his downfall, just like Layla had sent me into a blurred state of desiring numbness. I nodded my head, somehow I agreed to find out her class schedule. This wasn’t impossible. I had access as a TA, and I had McLaine’s login, considering he didn’t bother inputting final grades either.
I still had time to stop for coffee before I headed back to get Layla and come back to campus. I didn’t mind, the back tracking or wasting time; driving kept the demons silent. That silence was exactly what I envied every other loud moment of my day.
I might start to mind if Layla kept having this effect on my sleep. All my productive hours occurred when the world was sleeping.
Intuition was already busy, but not busy enough for me to skip this part of my routine. Elizabeth and Hayley were there, in their usual spots, in the middle of what looked like gossiping with the overly dramatic facial expressions. After waiting almost 15 minutes for two coffees and bagels, I finally went over to them. It gave me a reason to feel out how they felt compared to Aspen.
I already knew they wouldn’t be as forgiving. Elizabeth’s side eye could have knocked me down… if I hadn’t already been used to it. “Why are you here so early? Up all night partying?”
Definitely not as forgiving.
“I went to the gym to see Aspen. Damn, Elizabeth… relax.”
Hayley nodded towards the door when Maddison and her best friend walked in. It was weird seeing the pair; it reminded me of B and Layla—the two on the outside of our group trying to get in. At this point B and Layla were a part of the group, regardless of what could have happened between any of us. It was unheard of; no one ever lasted between the harsh truths, Caden’s protective nature, or the intimacy we had with each other. We were the group of sinners everyone wanted to be a part of. Maddison and her best friend never got as far as Layla or B. Aspen was her only connection to the group, and he kept her from us expertly.
Her smile was warm, like nothing bad ever happened to her. It was admirable—her layer of shine and gloss showing no hint of damage.
How did she do that? Even if it wasn’t authentic, I wanted that ability to seem perfect to all the on-looking eyes.
> She didn’t have the reputation I had after all these years of misbehaving.
She wasn’t hard to remember, but all my memories around freshman year were dipped in a haze I couldn’t remove, even sober. All three of us staring at her caused her to look in our direction and quickly look away. We should have looked away too, but we didn’t.
I spoke out loud for some reason: “Caden will love that.”
None of us were ready for a sober Caden and whatever public display of protection he’d toss her way.
Hayley yanked me out of my thoughts. “She won’t be there this weekend, right? Wasn’t her family somebody important? Aspen wouldn’t have been allowed to date her if she wasn’t.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I have a recruitment retreat with this company, so I won’t be there to play referee. Hayley you’re in charge of this troublemaker. I wanna get on their short list however I can. I can’t miss this. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll get down on my knees...”
Hayley and I thought the same dirty thing at the same time and laughed. It wasn’t unheard of. We might be in college, but rumors weren’t lost on us. She should know best; Caden’s mentor promoted inequality and degrading women—probably while he was fucking her too.
She hit Hayley’s leg, “…and beg! You guys have dirty minds!”
I always appreciated my desire to teach literature instead of in some corporate jungle full of rules and regulations. Just the idea of all those rules gave me a desire to break them. Half my schedule reflected business courses I was forced to take if I wanted Richard to pay the tuition. Without his help, I wouldn’t have time to TA or have a life on top of a full course load and a job. Every time I saw Richard, he’d drive home how pointless any classes supporting teaching were—never failed.
I desired the day I could stop hearing his opinions all together, more than anything else. I was still figuring out how to disown only half of my parental unit.