Stop!

by Alison G. Bailey

  Holding my face in his hands, Risher slowly kissed his way to the corner of my mouth. His lips skimmed across mine, giving the same treatment to the opposite corner. His hands traveled down my neck and slipped underneath my jacket, the denim scratching my skin as it slid over my shoulders. Releasing the edge of the table, I let him push the jacket completely off. He stepped closer into me. Our foreheads connected as his hands moved up the length of my exposed arms.

  Our breathing became synchronized, getting faster and deeper. I was one giant mass of quivers. Every inch of my body was on fire. It had been so long since I’d been touched by someone who wasn’t wearing scrubs and latex gloves. The skin-on-skin contact was invigorating. Goose bumps devoured me. I fisted the bottom of his T-shirt, twisting and tugging at the material. I needed to feel more of him.

  Risher must have read my mind. Grabbing my waist, he lifted me up onto the table. He took a step back, gave me a sexy smirk, and peeled off his T-shirt. Once again, the boy stole my breath. I had only a second to soak in the ripples, muscles, and indentions that made up his torso. Risher’s hands dove into my hair as his lips crashed into mine. A deep growl rumbled into my mouth, as my legs wrapped around his hips, rubbing his epic ass. My hands couldn’t decide where to touch first. There were so many options. I figured the best course of action was to start at the center. With my palms pressed flat against his hot skin, they coasted over his stomach and up his chest, behind his neck, finally disappearing into his dark hair.

  I squeezed my legs around Risher as he grinded into me. He was really putting his entire body into this kiss. I felt my lower back touch the hard surface of the table. It was unclear to me in my haze if I initiated the move or Risher did. Although being with him like this felt incredible, things were moving faster than I could completely wrap my head around. I needed time to catch up. When he was in mid hover position, I reluctantly pulled my lips away.

  “Risher,” I breathed.

  He gasped for air. “Are you okay? I’m not hurting you, am I?”

  I swallowed, shaking my head. “No. I just think we should slow things down.”

  Nodding in agreement, he said, “Yeah, slow is good.”

  I sat up as he climbed off of me.

  Hollis, what the hell are you doing?

  My chest tightened as I realized this might be my one and only chance to experience being with someone and I was throwing it away.

  Grabbing his hand, I tugged Risher back toward me. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to slow down.”

  Brushing the hair off my face, he said, “Yeah we do. I didn’t mean to let things get out of hand like that. It’s just, I’ve wanted to touch you for such a long time. You set the pace.” He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on my lips. “I’ll follow.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  “Only about you.” A toothy grin spread across his face.

  A mixture of giggles and tears burst out of me as relief flooded my body. All the pain and hurt I experienced over the past year was worth it, if it meant putting me in this moment with this boy. I jumped from the table and into Risher’s arms.

  “I think I’m falling in love with you,” I mumbled into his neck.

  Shit!

  “Hollis…”

  Pulling away, my gaze focused on his chest. “You heard that, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, I heard it.”

  I shut my eyes, cringing.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t say that back to you.”

  My heart jumped into my throat and then plummeted to the depths of hell.

  “I don’t think I’m falling in love with you.”

  Me and my big stupid, stupid mouth.

  “I know I’m falling in love with you, Hollis,” he whispered against my lips.

  My eyes shot open to his smiling face. “You’re a tricky little bastard, Risher Stevenson.”

  “But you love me.”

  “I do love you.”

  “And I love you.”

  Sucking in my lower lip, I reached up and pinched Risher’s bicep.

  “Ouch! What was that for?”

  “I wanted to make sure you and this were real.”

  “It’s all real, Hollis.”

  Bending down, he nibbled across my bottom lip before tickling it with his tongue. My mouth opened and I sank into his kiss. We pressed against each other, the air around us growing intense. I moaned as Risher slowed and pulled away.

  Resting his forehead on mine, he took a second to compose himself. “I gotta go take a cold shower.”

  Butterflies scattered throughout my stomach at hearing the effect I had on him.

  “Okay.”

  Our eyes stayed glued to each other as he stepped back.

  “I’ll make it quick.”

  I couldn’t tear my gaze away as he bent down, scooping up his shirt from off the floor. Twisting my body, I continued the gawk fest when he passed by me on the way to the bathroom. Tingles covered my skin, knowing in a few seconds, I’d get my first full-on view of Risher’s naked back. No doubt it would not disappoint. I mean, his front was a work of art.

  I started at the small of his back, traveling up the slopes and curves. I wanted to take in as much as possible without him catching me. As he stepped into the doorway the harsh light and my gaze collided. My eyes squinted, wanting a clearer view of the masterpiece. What I got instead was an explanation of why my scars didn’t shock Risher. A jagged raised line ran from the base of his neck down to between his shoulder blades. I continued to stare long after he closed the door. My emotions swung from heartbreak to hatred toward whatever did that to him. I wanted to run in there and wrap my arms around him, but I stayed put. Risher didn’t push me to tell my story and I was going to show him the same respect.

  Since there had been no communication whatsoever from either Maggie or Chuck, it was a given Risher and I would be roomies for the night. By the time he was done with his shower, I had changed into a pair of Scooby Doo sleep shorts and navy blue Chambers University T-shirt. He emerged from the bathroom in black boxers, shirtless, vigorously rubbing a towel over his wet hair. I was leaning against the headboard of the king-size bed, flipping through an old magazine, pretending not to notice the half-naked hot dude only a few feet away.

  Tossing the damp towel on the dresser, he grabbed his shirt and walked over.

  “Nice shorts,” he said, pulling the shirt down his chest.

  Damn.

  “Well, you weren’t supposed to see them.”

  Pouncing onto the bed, he bounced on all fours toward me. “Rot ro, Shaggy.”

  I hid my laughter behind the magazine as my body flipped, flopped, and shook.

  “You really like torturing me.” I giggled.

  Risher got right in my face. “I really like you.”

  I slid the magazine to my chest. Raising my hand, I brushed the damp hair off his forehead and ran my fingertips down over the scruff of his jaw. Looking in warm eyes, I wanted so badly to ask him about the scar. But I stopped myself. Everyone has to tell his story when he’s ready. I knew that better than anyone. I also knew, I’d be here when Risher was ready to tell me his.

  I placed a soft kiss against his lips and whispered, “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For taking the time to get to know me.”

  “Best time of my life.”

  “Mine too.”

  Our lips connected, soft and slow at first, but soon took a turn to deep and hot.

  This time Risher pulled away first. “If we keep this up much longer, I’m gonna need another shower.”

  He slid to the center of the giant bed and lay on his side facing me, while I clicked off the light. Curling into him, I was met by one of the long pillows.

  “I think it’s a good idea to keep this between us.” His deep voice broke through the dark.

  “Really?” I tried, but couldn’t keep the hurt out of my voice.

  “Hollis, I’m an eighteen-year-old, red-blooded American guy,
in a hotel room with his beautiful girlfriend who happens to be rockin’ a hot pair of Scooby shorts. A man only has so much self-control. Trust me, the pillow is needed.”

  The electricity running through my body could have powered the entire western hemisphere. I settled in on my side and draped my arm over the pillow wall. Starting at my shoulder, Risher’s hand traveled down my arm. Lying in the dark with the boy of my dreams, I decided it was time to tell him my story.

  “Can I tell you something or are you too tired?”

  “I’m always up for a bedtime story.” He laced his fingers with mine.

  “Once upon a time there was a girl… I’ll call her Hollis.”

  “That’s a hot name.”

  I squeezed his hand, letting him know how much I appreciated his attempt at relaxing me.

  “A year ago, she had one helluva summer vacation…”

  RISHER HELD MY hand and listened intently as I told him about that night at the lake, what happened to John, and how it all changed my life forever. Not once did his gaze stray from mine, nor did he attempt to slip in a comment while I relived the horrible events. He simply let me talk. It occurred to me that Risher and Benton had been the only two people who allowed me to express my pain and fears, unfiltered. Neither tried to fix the unfixable.

  My parents and Maggie loved me and meant well, but they weren’t interested in my dark thoughts. When I got depressed or frustrated about my circumstances, they’d quickly change the conversation, moving on to what they deemed to be more positive subjects. I understood their reasoning. They’d witnessed firsthand the physical as well as emotional pain I had endured. The goal was to spare me any further hurt. But each time they tried to put a sunshiny spin on things, it came off as dismissive. Like I needed to stop dwelling on the past. What the three most important people in my life never got was that the past stared at me each day and wouldn’t let go.

  Opening up to Risher felt natural and comfortable. Once I spoke the first sentence, I knew I could tell him anything without fear of judgment. When I finished my monologue, Risher slid the pillow out from between us and pulled me into his arms, where I stayed for the rest of the night.

  I opened my eyes to a piercing green gaze. Risher was on his side, his head resting in his hand while a smirk played across his chiseled face.

  Not a bad way to start the day.

  “Mornin.” I yawned.

  No sooner had my mouth stretched opened when I grabbed the edge of the sheet, quickly pulling it up. Snapshots of last night clicked through my head.

  Burgers.

  Risher kissing me.

  Ketchup.

  Risher touching me.

  Mustard.

  Risher saying he loved me.

  Extra onions.

  Extra onions!

  Risher’s naked chest.

  Add the dead creature that crawled into my mouth overnight, and you had the makings of some toxic morning breath.

  “You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed.” He kissed the tip of my nose before hopping off the bed.

  “I just have your welfare in mind.”

  Pulling on his jeans, he said, “Thanks for having my back, Babe.”

  I lifted the sheet higher, covering the huge smile that broke out across my face. As Risher turned away, my smile dropped. The memory of his scar hit me head-on. The urge to wrap my arms around him and ask for details bubbled up. Clenching the sheet, I bit down on my bottom lip and kept my mouth shut. I’d wait forever for his story, if that’s what he needed, because that scar wasn’t the most important part of him.

  “I thought I’d go get us some breakfast or would you rather go out?”

  God, could he get any sweeter or more thoughtful? No, the answer is no.

  Glancing over at the clock on the nightstand, I wondered if the two sex-birds were even awake yet. Eating breakfast in bed with Risher sounded perfect, but I felt like I needed to check on Maggie. Not sure why. After all, she was the one who abandoned me. It didn’t matter that the night turned out to be the best of my life. She had no way of knowing that when she left me. I was in the middle of my decision-making process when the door flung open and Maggie came bopping in.

  “Goood Moanin’!”

  Sitting up, I yelled through the sheet. “What’s with you and barging in the rooms?”

  Maggie’s gaze swung from me, to Risher stepping into his shoes, and then back to me. “I see all kinds of interesting things that way.”

  I tilted my head and glared at her.

  Clapping her hands, she ordered, “Let’s get moving. Breakfast time. Chuck and I worked up a mighty big appetite.”

  “Where is lover boy?” Risher asked.

  Maggie walked over to the closet and grabbed her overnight bag. “He jumped in the shower, which is exactly what I’m planning on doing.”

  “Good deal.” Risher glanced at me. “I’m starving too. I’ll go move Chuck along.”

  Leaning in, he kissed my forehead, my nose, and then yanked the sheet down, giving me a quick peck on the lips.

  “Not even extra onions can keep me away from you.” He winked.

  I indulged in my favorite pastime as he grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.

  Maggie cocked an eyebrow toward me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Why is Risher so hungry?”

  “He’s a growing boy.”

  “And did he grooow last night?”

  “Maggie!”

  Pointing at me, she gasped. “You’re not wearing makeup. And what’s happening under that sheet?”

  I flung the covers off and climbed out of bed, exposing my sexy attire. “Happy?”

  “Really, Hollis? You’re in a hotel room, alone with a hot guy, and you put on the Scooby shorts? Or is that what Risher is into? Because, Chuck insisted we order The Little Mermaid on demand and then wanted me to call him King Triton when the magic moment happened.”

  I blinked at her a couple of times, not quite sure how to respond.

  Heading toward the bathroom, I said, “I gotta get ready.”

  “You know what I mean, right? When he revved my cho-cho.”

  “Please, stop talking.”

  “Wait! What happened between you and cute booty last night?”

  “The guys are waiting…”

  “You’re gonna leave me hanging?”

  “…and starving,” I said over my shoulder just before closing the door.

  An hour later the four of us were at IHOP devouring stacks of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Risher was so cute. Each time I was low on orange juice, he’d motion to the waitress for another glass, ensuring I was properly juiced at all times. Chuck continuously shoveled food in his mouth, while Maggie kept a close eye on me.

  Picking up a slice of bacon, she asked, “Hey, Hollis, did you ever tell Miss Personality what her boyfriend did to you?”

  The domino effect was in full swing as Risher’s gaze jerked toward me and mine shot to Maggie.

  “What’s this about?” Risher asked.

  I gave Maggie the death glare, as I telepathically told her to shut up.

  “Nothing.” I squeaked. “Hey, after breakfast let’s go to a movie.”

  “Movies don’t start this early,” Chuck mumbled through a mouthful of pancakes.

  Twisting his entire body toward me, Risher rested his arm on the back of the booth. “Has someone been bothering you?”

  “Abigail’s boyfriend barreled into her,” Maggie chimed in.

  I didn’t know what was going on with my best friend. Usually, we were so in tune, only needing a look to communicate. One night with King Triton and a lifetime of BFF ESP had gone MIA.

  Widening my eyes, I intensified my glare. Maggie simply mimicked the look back.

  Out the corner of my eye, I witnessed jaw clenching, neck veins popping, and green eyes staring. “Is this true, Hollis?”

  “Nah… o.” My pitch was so high, I was sure dogs on the other side of the world were howlin
g.

  “He knocked her down the stairs at y’all’s dorm.” Maggie’s mouth kept getting bigger and bigger with each word.

  Risher’s breathing deepened. The squeaking of leather filled my ears as his fingers dug into the back of the booth. Knot after knot formed in my stomach.

  I had to push the conversation off of this topic. “How about we all go shopping?”

  “Hell no!” Chuck was getting on my last nerve.

  Risher’s other hand landed on my thigh. “Hollis, look at me.” I did as he said. “If some asshole hurt you, I need to know.”

  Placing my hand on his, I explained, “No one hurt me. I promise. He was in a hurry and didn’t watch where he was going.”

  I gave him a slight smile, hoping the memory of our first meeting would cool him down. Risher returned the smile, no doubt thinking of the day I rump bumped him.

  “He owes you an apology and I’m going to make sure you get it.”

  “No!”

  Turning his attention across the table, Risher asked, “What’s this guy’s name?”

  “This really isn’t necessary,” I pleaded.

  “Hollis, didn’t you say he was in one of your classes?” Maggie offered, again.

  The knots in my stomach twisted tighter. I knew technically by keeping my mouth shut, I was lying. But lying by omission always felt like a loophole in the book of rules. Loophole or not, I felt guilty not telling Risher about Benton, but I couldn’t.

  “Which class, Hollis?”

  I didn’t respond to Risher at first. For what felt like an eternity, I racked my brain for another loophole to jump through, but nothing name.

  Finally, I whispered, “Algebra.”

  “Hollis told me he sits in the back of class and wears a hoodie.”

  Maggie had turned into Wiki-fucking-pedia.

  The pancake I’d eaten was stuck between my chest and my throat. I needed some air and to slap Maggie around.

  “I gotta go to the bathroom,” I announced.

  Risher slid from the booth to let me out.

  Scooting to the edge, I said, “Maggie, don’t you need to go?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “Really? You were having issues earlier.”

  She huffed. “Issues? What issues?”

  “Of the dia… rrheal type.”