Into Temptation

by Skyla Madi

  Between my legs.

  Shit.

  “Cale—”

  Growling, he pins my hands down beside my head and I just about come on the spot. His aggression...it’s everything I imagined and more. He squeezes my tiny wrists in his large hands until I’m unable to move my fingers.

  “I’ve wanted...” He mutters against my ribs. “I’ve wanted to taste your flesh from the second I laid eyes on you.”

  I gasp as he envelops my nipple in his hot, wet mouth and circles it with his tongue. I curse as my back arches and my hips flex. He pulls off with a pop, hardening my nipple to its painful, maximum point.

  “I prayed for your body.” He confesses, kissing my ribs again. “I got down on my knees, lowered my head, and begged God to give me your body while others sat next to me, praying for sick relatives and world peace.”

  I don’t point out that his priorities are a little fucked up...mostly because it’s turning me on beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.

  Releasing one of my wrists, he sucks my other breast into his mouth. My hips move of their own accord, grinding against him, grinding against his hard cock that I feel through his jeans. My thoughts are scattered, so scattered it takes me a second to register the feel of his fingers as they dance along my side. They snake between us, making their way into my pants. I freeze, my entire body tightening to the point of cramping.

  “No, wait!” I gasp, pushing against him and hindering his access. “We can’t.”

  He releases my breast and pushes himself up my body. I grip his shoulder and push, but he doesn’t budge. Insistently, he kisses my neck, sending ripples of pleasure over my body.

  “Please, Cassia.” He groans, desperately, grinding his hips into mine. “I’m so fucking hard.”

  A fierce pang of pleasure zaps my body, making me dizzy. I close my eyes and a moan escapes my lips. The friction from his heavy body alone has me edging toward release.

  I imagine this naked. I imagine how amazing he’d feel without the fabric barrier between us.

  I long for it.

  I crave it.

  Despite the pleasure radiating throughout my body, a cramp builds up in the background, getting stronger and stronger until the undeniable fact I still have my period is too painful to ignore. I push against his shoulder and wriggle.

  “Caleb, stop.” I rush out on a heavy breath.

  He grunts impatiently, pushing himself back onto his knees, raking ten frustrated fingers through his hair. I slip my hands over my naked breasts and he squeezes his eyes shut, clenching his jaw.

  An excruciatingly quiet moment passes before he lowers his hands and opens his eyes.

  There is no green.

  Not even a sliver.

  “I...uh...” I swallow hard, trying to regain my dignity. “I’m not equipped for that kind of activity…at the moment.”

  Caleb frowns and embarrassment punches me in the gut.

  “You’re not equipped?”

  I nod and he ponders it for a while. Eventually, a lightbulb flicks on in his eyes and his eyebrows smooth out.

  “Oh. It’s that time, is it?”

  I nod again, pulling myself into a seated position. I tuck my knees into my chest, a little embarrassed.

  One kiss, I tell myself. One, you fucking imbecile.

  Caleb scratches the back of his neck and that’s when I see the first shard of green sparkle in his eyes. “And I assume you don’t like to…while you’re…”

  I grimace. What the fuck? “Ew. No.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “Really?”

  My eyes widen. “You’ve had sex while...? You’re kidding?”

  He shrugs. “It doesn’t really make a difference if you wear protection. It still feels amazing.”

  Who in their right mind would ever do that? With all of the extra stuff…and fluids…and…I shudder. That’s where I draw the line.

  “You’re disgusting.”

  He swipes a hand down his chest. “No. I am a lover of the female body no matter the week.”

  I roll my eyes. “Smooth.”

  Holding my breasts, I leave my bed and cross the room to my set of drawers to put on a shirt. When I’m done, I turn around and lean against it, bending my leg at the knee.

  Caleb watches me a little amused and a little confused.

  “So, you definitely don’t want to—”

  “No.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Definitely not.”

  He drops onto the bed, resting his head against my pillows. The sight is absolutely glorious—everything I imagined and more. Dragging my eyes from his body to his face, I see the beautiful slope on his lips. I gulp, squeezing my arms against my body to keep me from melting into a puddle of goo.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.

  He tips his head to the side. “I know your vagina is out of commission, but how’s your mouth?”

  I laugh, despite the furious blush raging up my neck. I’d love nothing more than to taste him on my tongue, but I know how boys like him work. I’d give him that and then I’d never see him again. He’d drop me, like he dropped the brunette girl from church. You think he still sees her? I don’t. I’m not giving until I receive.

  “If I have to suffer, so do you.”

  I expect him to get up, grab his shirt, and leave. After all, we’re not friends. Our relationship is purely physical, meaning nothing connects us except our mutual lust. Instead, he pats the mattress beside him.

  “All right.” He says. “So we do something else.”

  “You’re not getting what you want so there’s no obligation to stay. It won’t hurt my feelings if you leave.”

  He tucks his hands behind his head. “I’m not a one trick pony, Cassia. Come here.”

  I hesitate for a brief moment before crossing the room and climbing up onto my big bed with him. Shifting into a seated position, leaning against the headboard, Caleb pulls me into his arms, pressing my cheek against his bare chest. The scent of his cologne hints at my nose, mixed with soap and clean sweat. Nothing has ever smelled so appealing...nothing has ever felt so right.

  This.

  This, right here, is worth betraying my parents for.

  Even if it’s only for a fleeting moment.

  It feels strange...holding her like she’s mine.

  I wanted to try it. I wanted to see if it feels the way people claim it does.

  My nerves vibrate, rippling inside my body so I definitely feel…something. I don’t know what it is, but it’s better than the nothingness I’ve felt for eleven years.

  The prolonged absence of “feeling” is the reason I’m obsessed with her. It’s the reason I’m obsessed with being around her. I discovered it this week when I went away for four days. Those four days were…nothing. It was as if I was thrown into a dark, concrete room and the door was shut behind me. I felt nothing...the same kind of nothing I’ve known for as long as I can remember.

  I watched struggling families, hungry children, and starving pets drag themselves through the doors of the indoor market and I didn’t feel anything, not sadness, not sympathy—not even anger at the government for allowing its citizens to go without food. I was numb…like I’ve always been.

  Strangely, it changed once I pulled Cassia’s photo from my wallet on the first night. It began with a stirring feeling in my stomach, followed by a flutter in my chest. I didn’t know what it was…and I don’t know what it is now, but, hey, I’ll take what I can get.

  Those days passed at a painfully slow rate, the black dog on my back becoming increasingly heavier every time I had to fake a smile or force a laugh. I tried to hold out on seeing her once we were finished with the volunteering, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t stand that I was staring down a black and white tunnel when I knew Cassia, in all of her entertaining glory, made the world so colorful. I had no options. I needed to see her as soon as I could.

  It was a coincidence that Drew and I ended up in town at the exact mom
ent Cassia and Fiona were closing the perfume shop. I picked him up at a burger joint a street away with the intention of attending a party over at Mummy Mountain. I hate parties. I hate socializing when all I want to do is sleep and fuck, but Drew talked me into going.

  By some fucking miracle, I saw her walking down the street, her eyebrows furrowed as she tapped her thumbs against a phone screen. The very second my stare found her, I felt something. I was happy, turned on as fuck, and a little nervous. I’m pretty sure I fucking smiled too. I don’t know it just…it happens so naturally when I see her light pink cheeks.

  The numb demon inside me begged me not to pull over, but it was going to take an extreme act of God to prevent me from stopping the car and talking to her.

  I needed it.

  I desperately needed to feel something—to feel human. When I go through these dark periods...I can barely get out of bed. It’s a relentless swirl of nausea in my stomach, a constant pair of dull shades on my eyes. There’s a black hole eating me up from the inside and I’m powerless to stop it. But…now I have her to chase, I find myself wanting to try. I find myself ignoring the thin little razor hidden underneath the box of ear buds in my bathroom.

  In the car, I pointed her out to Drew, but he just missed her as she entered the coffee shop. I wasn’t letting her go that easy though and Drew was pissed when I pulled the car over. With a desperate plea, he promised me there were hotter bitches at the party we were headed to, but I wasn’t in it for the bitches or the sex. It didn’t matter to me how hot the girls he spoke about were. They didn’t fill me with excitement and fear. Not like Cassia did…not like our situation did.

  He called me a pussy as I shut off the truck and opened the door, but Drew doesn’t depend on shallowly cutting his thigh with a razorblade to feel something. He doesn’t fantasize about his own death, existing in his hollow shell, waiting for his time to finish. He functions like a normal person…I don’t.

  To feel something without using the razorblade was a revelation. A revelation that could save my life.

  To be clear, I’m not after a relationship with Cassia. I’d never tie a girl down with my huge bag of problems, but I’d like to be her friend, to give her whatever she wants in exchange for something I need.

  To feel again…I can’t explain it. It’s like being thrown a life raft when you’re one gulp away from drowning to death. And all I want is to feel human.

  I want to feel alive.

  That’s all.

  “Which photo did you take?” Cassia asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I forgot I was in her room, half naked and hard as fuck. I almost had her. I almost got what I wanted...but nature intervened, saving her soul from an unimaginable sin.

  “You’re wearing overalls, your hair is piled in a messy bun on the top of your head, and there’s paint all over your face.”

  She snorts. “And that’s attractive to you?”

  I shrug. “They’re all attractive.”

  The one I chose isn’t for me to jerk my cock to. This one is medicine for my dark soul.

  An antidepressant.

  Free Prozac.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  I bristle, swallowing hard. Turning my head, our eyes lock and my mind instantly jumps to Penelope, my sister. She probably already knows about her, my mom too. I hate that I still haven’t mastered my mask of indifference for when conversation turns to them.

  “Do you think my parents smother me?”

  I let out air from my lungs, air I didn’t know I was holding. I’d answer just about any question so long as it doesn’t relate to the day Penelope was abducted and I was powerless to stop it. Or the day my mother slit her wrists in the kitchen.

  So much blood…

  “What do you think?” I ask her.

  Cassia’s perfectly shaped eyebrows pull together. “You can’t answer a question with another question.”

  Really? That’s a bullshit rule. I run my tongue along my teeth and swipe at my head. I can tell her what I truly think, right? I mean, she’s asking for it…

  “Yes. I think they smother you. Your mom is pathetic and your dad is an asshole. I hate that they treat you like a child and I think it’s wrong when they use the fear of God against you.” I swallow hard. “I think you’d be much happier without them in your life. Satisfied?”

  Cassia shifts uncomfortably, her stare flicking to her thighs. “Yes. Thank you.”

  I exhale. It’s admirable that Cassia loves her parents, but it’s such a fucking waste of life. They don’t deserve shit.

  “I got you something.” I announce, shifting my leg so I can reach into my back pocket.

  Reluctantly, and a little cautiously, Cassia turns her head in my direction, her blue eyes watching curiously. From my pocket, I pull out the three and a half inch touch screen cellphone I bought for her two days ago. It’s slim and white, and its camera is pretty decent for a phone its size. In the right light it should capture her pink nipples perfectly.

  I extend it to her and she frowns.

  “What do you want me to do with that?”

  I smirk. “It’s for you.”

  Her eyes widen, her mouth curling into a perfect circle as she splutters, “Oh, no. No. No. Thank you, but no. I’m not accepting that.”

  “I got it for you, Cass. Brand new. I mean, I opened it to set it up and I forgot to bring the charger, but I’m sure you have a cable for it around here somewhere.”

  Pulling away from me, Cassia tucks her hands into her armpits. “I can’t take it. My parents will kill me if they knew I had it.”

  I laugh, once. The problem is so simple it’s barely a problem at all.

  “So don’t tell them.”

  “That’s lying.”

  “You’d be guilty by omission—a completely different thing.”

  Kind of.

  “Um…no, it isn’t.”

  “Just take it, Cass.” I toss the phone by her feet and it’s lost in a fold of fabric. “Keep it out of sight and you’ll be fine.”

  “And what do you want me to do with it exactly?”

  I cock my head, pretending that all of the naughty scenarios that play out in my mind don’t exist. “What makes you think I want you to do anything with it?”

  “Oh, please. You’re vulgar, dirty minded, and constantly propositioning me for sex.” A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of her supple lips. “There’s a camera on that phone, Caleb, and I’m not taking naked photos of myself for anybody.”

  I chuckle, rolling onto my side. “Aren’t you a buzzkill? I’d take photos of myself naked for you.”

  Laughing, she shuffles closer, angling her soft, fit body in my direction. “I believe you.”

  Reaching out, I gently swipe at a loose lock of blonde hair that has freed itself from her messy bun and rests against her shoulder.

  “All I want is for you to stay in contact with me.”

  Cassia leans forward, releasing her hands from underneath her armpits. “That’s all?”

  My stomach clenches as the tips of her fingers brush against my abs. She tugs on the hem and I gladly move closer, until her generous bust is pressing firmly against my chest.

  “I suppose the occasional nudie pic won’t kill you.”

  Cassia chuckles and it’s a beautiful sound. I moisten my lips, desperate to get even closer, and slip my leg between hers. She smells divine, like fucking cotton candy and buttered popcorn.

  “You’re not good for me, Caleb.” She mutters, grazing her lips against mine.

  The slightest touch and the heavens above open up, its thick bolts of lightning hitting my body over and over, each strike more powerful than the last. It feels amazing. It’s…overpowering. I swallow it down as a visceral need grows deep in my chest, a result of the sensations she provokes in me. It’s torture holding myself back from ripping the fabric off her body. My last sexual encounter was a blow job in my father’s office…I can’t even remember the last time I slippe
d between the thighs of a woman.

  I want it…

  I want this woman...

  “Why does that keep happening?” Cassia whispers, her blue stare flicking between my eyes.

  I blink. Did I space out? I must have.

  Her lips are wet and swollen, pink with a satisfying kiss. Damn. I missed it. I don’t miss the look of concern in her gaze though. It annoys the hell out of me.

  “What?” I bite out.

  “Your eyes…why does all of the color randomly sink into a pool of oil?”

  I clench my jaw. Because I don’t work properly.

  Because sex overwhelms me, like a crack addict who is long overdue for a hit and finally tastes the sweet nectar on the tip of his tongue.

  As soon as it makes contact “it” takes me over. The desperate need to feel something—anything—is probably why I indulge so heavily in sex.

  I clear my throat, pulling back from her. This isn’t a conversation I want to have with her right now. This isn’t a conversation I want to have with her ever. I’m dealing with it on my own and I have for eleven years now. I can’t stomach the thought of people feeling sorry for me. After I found my mother dead, sitting in a pool of her own blood in our kitchen, I was sent to a therapist, someone my father paid to make sure I wasn’t mentally scarred. I hated every second of it…the way her beady, green eyes would watch me. The way her slender fingers slid against her pen as she jotted down notes I knew I’d never read. I hated her sympathy and detested her comfort. The way I see it is, shit happens, you move on. You find reasons to keep going until you run out. If the thought of leaving Dad here all alone didn’t make me feel like shit, I’d have opted out years ago.

  My insides deflate. A thick fist twists my stomach at the thought of answering her. To be honest, I’m tired. I don’t want to.

  I exhale and kiss Cassia on the mouth. “See you at Bible study tomorrow.”

  She shuffles forward. “What? You’re leaving?”

  I swing my legs off the side of the bed and push myself to my feet. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

  In the heavy silence, I cross the room.