“You are good enough. You are more than good enough. You’re incredible.”
A smile twitches at his lips.
He shakes his head like he can’t believe what I’m saying.
“Fucking hell, I can’t get enough of you.”
He quickly tugs my skirt down my legs and drops it to the floor so we’re both bare before he rolls me on top of him.
“Your turn,” he says with a wink, taking his length in hand and holding it so all I have to do is sink down.
“Jeez, I’m not your sex slave.”
“The position is available should you want y…” His words trail off as I lower down onto him. “Fuck. Will I ever get used to this feeling?”
“I hope not.”
I drop down until I’ve taken every inch of him.
He stares up at me with such adoration, such, dare I say it… love, that it brings tears to my eyes.
“Chels,” he says, reaching for my hands and pulling me forward.
His eyes search mine. I have no doubt he can see my threatening tears but like always when I’m around him, I don’t want to hide how I feel. My mask is well and truly shed when it’s just the two of us. He sees me. The real me. And yet he’s still here.
“I know,” I whisper. “I know.”
“You fucking slay me, you know that.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
Dropping my lips to his, I cut off whatever his response was going to be. I fear he’s on the edge of admitting something he’s going to regret when I’m finally brave enough to tell him the truth.
I’ll do it after this, I tell myself, once again putting it off.
I move against him, keeping the pace slow this time. Trying to show him exactly how I feel about him with my body instead of my words. I need him to know how real this is, how much it means to me. Words are nothing. They get thrown around all the time. Lies are too easy. But this. This feeling of us together. There is no lie there. It’s impossible.
Our tongues slide against one another’s as I continue to grind against him. His hands find my hips, attempting to get me to go faster but I resist. I’m in charge this time and I set the pace.
Dragging my lips from his, I kiss across his jaw, sucking his earlobe into my mouth before dropping down his neck.
“So good,” I groan in his ear. “Your cock feels so good inside me.”
A low growl comes from the back of his throat.
“Do you feel it?” His fingers grip the nape of my neck.
“Every fucking time I look at you. Touch you. Think of you.”
“Fuck, Shane,” I pant, his words pushing me closer to release.
“You’re it for me, Chels. This is it for me. Whatever happens from here on out, college, our futures. It’s us, baby. Promise me.”
His words make my heart swell to the point I worry it might burst. “It’s us. Always.”
The first clench of my release hits me and I just start to fall when there’s a commotion at the door.
“Shane, I need—fuck.” Brett’s eyes go impossibly wide as they land on us before he lifts his hands to his hair and spins around. “What the fuck, boy? This is our house. Our fucking house. Get her fucking out of here,” he bellows so loud I can’t help but wince as I jump from Shane.
“Get the fuck out, Dad.”
“What the hell—oh,” Maddie says, racing in to see what’s going on.
Her eyes land on me and although I register the shock that was in Brett’s she looks nowhere near as murderous at finding me here.
“Get the fuck out,” Brett barks at me, risking turning around. Thankfully, I’m now wrapped in one of Shane’s sheets. He however is still standing naked with just a pillow covering his junk.
“Dad, stop. Don’t fucking talk to her like that.”
“You are a fucking joke. A fucking joke.” He marches toward Shane with his finger pointing at him.
Shame races through Shane’s features.
“No,” I cry, attempting to run over, but Maddie catches my arm and stops me from getting between the two of them.
“Just go, Chels.” Shane’s voice is empty, cold, and it makes a sob erupt from my throat.
“No, I’m not leaving you with him like this.”
“It’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No. Shane.”
It takes a few seconds, but eventually he rips his eyes from his father’s and turns them on me.
“Please,” he whispers, his eyes pleading with me not to make this harder than it already is.
The tears that were filling my eyes spill over.
“O-okay.”
“Here.” He throws a shirt at me that’s on the chair beside him and after a second, I follow Maddie out of the room.
She shuts the door behind us.
“What are you doing? You need to stop them, stop him,” I plead.
“I will. Don’t worry about him. I’ll tell him to call you.”
Not worrying that she’s standing before me, I drop the sheet and pull Shane’s shirt over my head. His scent relaxes me instantly, well that is until there’s a loud crash from his bedroom.
“Go,” she says. “Everything will be okay.”
I want to scream at her. How is it going to be okay? She saw the look in Brett’s eyes just like I did. I want to run in there and drag Shane out with me. But I can’t. I’m powerless to do anything but what I’m told.
With a nod, I turn and head for the stairs.
“Chelsea.” My name is no more than a whisper.
Turning, I look over my shoulder at her sad expression.
“I’m glad it’s you,” is all she says before slipping back into the room seconds before shouts erupt and something else smashes.
I race down the stairs, tears streaming down my face as I flee their house. I don’t want to leave without him, I want to stand beside him and fight his battles with him, but I know I can’t. This is a family thing and I need to back away and let him deal with it in his own way.
I don’t realize that I left my shoes on his bathroom floor until I step foot on his driveway and the stones dig into my skin.
“Motherfucker,” I spit as I run toward my car.
I fire up the engine and speed away from his house. If I sit out here, I know the temptation to go back inside will be too strong to ignore.
I’m almost back at my house before I notice the lights behind me.
Fire burns in my belly as my grip tightens on the wheel. Now really isn’t the time for this asshole.
Unlike earlier, when I turn onto my street, he follows.
Slamming my foot on the break, I bring my car to an abrupt stop before jumping out and running toward the truck following me.
To my surprise, it slows to a stop in front of my house despite the fact I’m getting closer.
The passenger window lowers as I approach.
“What the fuck is your problem? Why the fuck do you keep following me, asshole?” I scream. I lost control of my emotions about the time I was sent away from Shane’s room.
The car is in darkness as I approach but my eyes soon adjust.
“What is it you want from m…” My final word trails off as I look into a familiar set of eyes. “No,” I cry, fear like I haven’t felt for years filling my veins. “No. No.” I stumble back, tripping over my own feet as I run for the house.
This time I don’t feel the stones cutting through my skin as I fly around the back of the house and race toward the safety of my pool house.
I fumble with the lock and after what feels like the longest time, I fall through the door. My breaths come in harsh pants as I try to drag in the air I need.
Slamming the door behind me, I run for the bedroom and then through to the bathroom, the door closing behind me with a loud crash.
Those blue eyes are a permanent image in my head.
“No. No. No,” I chant as I turn the shower on and drop to the floor beneath the spray.
The water soaks
Shane’s shirt but I barely notice. I just need the quiet that comes with the water.
It’s the only place I used to feel safe. Safe from them.
A shudder runs down my spine.
I thought I’d left them all behind. I thought the men of my past were only in my occasional nightmare now. I had no idea one would be stalking me.
I have no idea who those eyes belong to. I never took the time to learn any of their names. They were just one scumbag after the other who turned up for my whore of a mother. Some barely looked my way, some looked too hard. Some… my blood runs cold and I fight to keep the memories down.
Nothing good can come from recalling that time of my life. A time when no one cared what happened to me. When they forced themselves on me, thinking they could take things that weren’t theirs to take.
Fuck. I want Shane.
Pulling my knees up to my chest, I wrap my arms around them and drop my head to my arms as I try to push away the images that have haunted me for years. It’s only been in the past few months that I’ve mostly rid them from my life.
29
Shane
“Are you trying to intentionally fuck everything up?” Dad barks, but I’m already tired of his bullshit.
As Mom slips back into the room, hopefully to help calm him the fuck down, I find a pair of boxers and pull them up my legs.
My muscles are pulled tight with anger, and unmoving when all I want to be doing is punching him, is physically painful.
The look on Chelsea’s face as I sent her away haunts me. I didn’t want to hurt her. I just needed her away from this, from him.
Dragging on a pair of sweats, I pull a clean shirt from my drawer and grab a bag.
“Are you even listening to me?”
I don’t give him so much as an acknowledgment, and it only adds fuel to his already raging fire.
“Brett, that’s enough,” Mom tries soothing as I begin shoving clothes into the bag, preparing to leave.
Sadly, her words have little effect on him.
“So is that it then? You’re going to throw away a chance at everything for a pair of tits and a nice ass?”
I turn on him, fire burning through my body to retaliate. It would be so easy to lash out. But that would make me as bad as him. And I’m nothing like him.
“That would involve me having something to throw away. I don’t want it. Any of it. How many times do I need to say it before it registers in your dense head? I’m not throwing away anything for her. She is my future.”
His chin drops. “That’s bullshit. You’re eighteen, you don’t know what you want.”
“And you do? How could you possibly know what I want?”
“Because I know best,” he roars.
I don’t think he expects me to laugh, but that’s exactly what I do. His fists curl at his sides as his frustration gets too much to take.
“Go on, old man, hit me. See if it helps knock some sense into me,” I taunt, taking a step toward him so I’m right in his face.
“Shane, stop,” Mom begs. She knows as well as I do that Dad has a temper that can snap at any moment.
“Why? I think it’s time we saw him for who he really is. Come on, show me how much of a disappointment I am.”
His teeth grind as I prepare for the pain I know is coming.
Only it never does.
After long seconds, he takes a step back.
“Fucking pussy,” I mutter, turning around and swiping the bag I’d haphazardly packed.
“Where the fuck are you going?” he barks at me.
“Someplace where someone wants me. The real me. Not the one they’re forcing me to be.”
With that, I storm past Mom, who sobs as I leave and race through the house.
The moment I’m in my car, I allow myself to breathe and take a moment to think about what just happened.
“Motherfucker,” I scream, slamming my hands down on the steering wheel.
A huge part of me wishes he would have hit me, just so I could retaliate. Hell knows I’ve wanted to a million times over the years.
Once my hands have stopped trembling enough to start the car, I back out of the drive with my chest heaving and one thought in my mind.
I need her. I need Chelsea.
I tell myself it’s to make sure she’s okay. But I know that selfishly, it’s more for me than her.
She gives me a calm that I don’t feel all that often, especially not at home. I need it. I need some kind of sign that this bullshit is going to come to an end. I need to have some hope that I’m going to be able to make my own choice and not be my dad’s puppet to do with as he wishes for the rest of my life.
The journey to her house only takes minutes and before I know it, I am pushing my car door open and jogging around the side of the house with my bag in hand.
I have no idea if she wants me here, but there’s no fucking way I’m staying in that house and allowing him to rip me in two. I’ve put up with it for long enough.
I’m eighteen. I can do what I fucking want.
The pool house is in darkness and I worry that maybe she’s not here. But where would she have gone? She left wearing nothing but my shirt.
When I get to the door, I find it ajar and it has my already racing heart picking up speed once again.
“Chelsea?” I call, pushing it open and stepping inside.
I make my way to the bedroom, dropping my bag to the bed as I pass.
A sliver of light from the bathroom and the sound of water running indicates where she is and a little excitement starts to push away the anger that’s still running rampant.
Wrapping my fingers around the door handle, I push, expecting it to open and be met by hopefully a naked and wet Chelsea. Only, when I push, the door doesn’t move.
I try again, thinking it’s stuck and a swear to God a scream of fear comes from the bathroom.
“Chelsea?” I ask, concern snaking through my veins. “It’s just me. Are you okay?”
Movement sounds come from inside before the lock clicks and she cracks the door open.
She’s soaking wet, her hair stuck to her face, her makeup running down her cheeks but I can see from the redness of her eyes that it’s not from the shower.
I drop lower and see that she’s still in my shirt and that it’s soaked through.
Pushing through the door, I take her in my arms.
She’s ice cold and shivers against my hold.
“What the hell, Chels?”
Holding her tight, I walk us to the shower. As expected, when I put my hand under the water it’s freezing cold. What the hell happened? This can’t be because of my dad, surely.
Turning the shower off, I lead her from the room, grabbing a towel on my way out.
She clings to me as if I might disappear any moment. Her slim body trembling against mine, her wet through shirt, soaking my own.
“I’m just going to set you on the bed.”
Thankfully, she releases me and drops down when I encourage her to do so.
I make quick work of peeling the wet fabric from her body and dropping it to the floor. I dry her off, squeezing the water from her hair before finding my discarded jersey tangled in the sheets and pulling it over her head.
“Get in,” I say, nodding to the bed and she scrambles to do so, quickly covering herself.
I shed my clothes and climb in with her, pulling her cold body to mine and wrapping myself around her like a blanket.
She trembles in my hold, as she fights the tears I know are threatening.
“It’s okay,” I say, holding her to me as tight as I can.
She shakes her head, her breathing ragged as she tries to get control of herself.
She’s silent for the longest time and although it kills me not to ask, not to know what’s wrong with her, I know she needs this.
Hell, I need this.
Dropping my nose to her hair, I breathe her in. Reminding myself of why I came here. Why being here with her
means so much to me.
I think back to the connection between us before we were interrupted and tonight went to hell. My heart swells as I remember the look in her eyes as she stared down at me. I remember the heat that raced through my veins as she told me she felt it too. I mean, I knew, I feel it in her touch, see it in her eyes but to hear her admit that I’m not the only crazy one here felt fucking amazing.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that when she finally breaks her silence, it takes me a second to register her words.
“That truck… the one that’s been following me…”
Every muscle in my body tenses as I wait to hear what’s coming next. Did he stop her? Has he hurt her?
“He’s a man from my past.” Her words are so quiet, muffled against my chest, that I hardly hear her. “One of my birth mother’s… v-visitors.”
My body jolts at her words. I remember all too well the things she told me about her past. She didn’t go into detail, understandably, and I was happy to allow her the time she needed to tell me, if she even wanted to.
“I-I…” She blows out a breath. “I don’t remember which one he is exactly. They all kind of blurred into one. But I remember his eyes. They’re so bright, I always used to think they were fake.” She pulls back from me a little and looks up to me.
Her large, dark eyes are red-rimmed from crying and the sight is like a baseball bat to my chest.
“Did he…” I trail off, not able to say the words to form the question I need to ask.
“I-I don’t know. Like I said, they all blur into one. Some of them were more interested than others. Some of them were even nice to me, but I was so young and stupid. I can’t distinguish which was which from my memories. The good fades away and only the darkness stays with me.”
“Fucking hell, Chels.” I pull her back into my arms and hold her tight.
“How did he find me?” she whispers.
“I don’t know, baby. But nothing’s going to happen to you. I promise you.”
She blows out a shaky breath before looking up at me again.
“How’d it go with your dad?”
“That doesn’t matter right now.”
“It does. This isn’t just about me and my past, Shane. I want to be here for you too.”
“I know and you are. This,” I say, squeezing her tight. “Is all I need right now.”
FIERCE: A High School Enemies to Lovers Romance (Rosewood High Book 4) Page 24