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Love Me For Me

Page 12

by Lauren Hawkeye


  “Gross. That’s so sweet.” He gagged. I grinned as he grimaced. Yes, so normal, like we were a normal couple out for a drink.

  I placed my hand on his thigh under the table, bracing myself as I took the cocktail back. His muscles tensed beneath my touch, but he didn’t any move towards me, apart from the arm that rested on my shoulders.

  This, I thought, this was the only thing keeping this relationship from being completely normal. We’d made out what felt like a million times now, but he refused to go any further.

  I admired him for his restraint, because I could feel how much he wanted to go all the way every time that I was under him, but at the same time it was frustrating and all consuming.

  “Where’d you pick up a taste for vodka?” He asked. Yes, he wanted me—the way he whispered in my ear and nipped at the lobe reinforced how much.

  What would let him take the next step? I truly didn’t know.

  I stiffened at his question, saw him open his mouth, probably to change the subject. He never held back on questioning me about my past, but never pressed me to answer, either.

  Truthfully, he was wearing me down. I was always counting down the minutes we had left together in my head, because once he knew, he would be gone.

  I wouldn’t blame him.

  “I used to party a lot in high school.” Emboldened by the vodka slime, I looked down at my fingers, twisted tightly together and resting on the table. Maybe it was time for it to come out.

  Part of it, anyway. Part of it was locked deep inside on me, and I intended to die with it still that way.

  “You don’t really seem like the partying type.” Alex’s fingers continued to play through my hair, but I felt the minute tightening of his body that told me he understood what I was saying was important.

  “I was different then. Really different.” Pulling back from his touch entirely, I turned to look into those insanely dark blue eyes of his. They were so open, so accepting, that it hurt my heart.

  I didn’t want to disappoint him, but being who I was, I had no choice.

  Alex said nothing, probably not wanting to stop the flow of words from my mouth now that they’d started. I cringed, a giant fist squeezing my heart, as I realized that a lighthearted question about vodka had turned so serious, so fast.

  “I’m not a virgin, Alex.” I was serious. The corners of his lips turned up in a smile, the laugh lines disappearing as he realized how serious I was being.

  “Neither am I, Serena.” He reached out and tried to take my hands in his, but I evaded the touch. “I thought you knew that.”

  “I don’t think you’re quite understanding me.” I drew in a shuddering breath. “In high school, there was some stuff that... that I wanted to forget. So I drank, and I messed around. I was every boy in school’s dirty little secret.”

  I waited for it, for the disgust to wash over his face, for him to push away from me, to shove out of the booth and leave.

  Instead he leaned over and caught my hands in his before I could pull them away. Defensive, I glared, trying to tug myself free.

  He wouldn’t let go.

  “How old are you, Serena?” Alex sat back in the booth, his face deadly calm, though his grip was like iron.

  I narrowed my eyes, not sure what he was getting at.

  “I’m twenty-one. You know that.” At least, he should have. I’d told him often enough.

  “That’s what I thought. And you’re a sophomore, right?” I furrowed my brow and stopped struggling.

  “Uh-huh.” My voice was heavy on the sarcasm, but I didn’t care. “And you’re a senior, you cradle robber, you.”

  “So high school was, what, three years ago for you?” He rubbed his thumb over the tender spot between my thumb and forefinger, and even through my discomfort I felt the heat build.

  “That doesn’t mean anything, Alex.” I was tense. His fingers moved to my wrist, softly stroking the skin there, and I shivered, wishing he would stop.

  It was so much easier to think when he wasn’t touching me.

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” I repeated, when he remained silent. Exasperated, I sighed and gnawed on my lower lip. “It’s in the past, yes, but it still happened. I can’t make it go away.”

  “Don’t you think our pasts help shape who we are today?” He asked. I watched, open mouthed, as he lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of my wrist, where my pulse pounded. “Because I really like who you are today.”

  “You wouldn’t if you understood.” My voice was desperate. Why couldn’t he just understand? “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of.”

  “I lost my virginity when I was sixteen, in the basement of Cammie Miller’s house while her parents watched The Amazing Race upstairs.” He said matter-of-factly. I gaped, incredulous, as he smirked at me. “I’m not overly proud of that, either.”

  “Maybe you should have been,” I couldn’t help murmuring. “That takes balls.”

  He snorted out a laugh, then before I could pull away, cupped my face in his hands.

  “I don’t care what you did in the past, Serena.” He leaned forward until his lips were only a whisper away from my own. My heart began to beat double time in my chest, and as arousal swelled, I felt like my skin was too tight.

  “Am I your dirty little secret, then?” As I spoke my lips brushed his, and I thrilled to his slight shudder over the touch.

  His fingers tightened on my cheeks, and then he kissed me, a slow, drugging kiss that left me aching and full of need.

  “I’ll never keep you a secret.” His lips travelled up, over my collarbone, to nip at the base of my ear. My muscles tightened in anticipation of the next touch.

  “But if you wanted to get a little dirty, I wouldn’t complain.” The raw need in his voice pulled everything inside me tight. I whirled to find him smiling down at me, and I couldn’t quite believe he’d be so daring as to say that. I opened my mouth to retort, then closed it when I recognized the heat in his eyes.

  Did that... was he...

  I swallowed thickly, my entire body thrilling under his eyes as he again bent and kissed me. The kiss was close mouthed, little more than our lips pressing together, but it was full of intent.

  When we pulled apart, I was panting. His breath was ragged as well, as he dug in his pocket, then slapped some cash on the table.

  “Want to get out of here?” He asked, his eyes dark and pull of intent.

  I couldn’t speak, just nodded, my pulse skittering through my veins.

  “Yes.”

  ***

  “Do you want another drink?” Alex called back to me from the kitchen.

  I stood, stiff with nerves, just inside the entryway of his apartment. He hadn’t commented on the fact that I hadn’t moved for the last five minutes, instead moving around his small home, turning on lamps, getting himself a glass of water.

  “You keep alcohol here?” My fingers felt thick and clumsy as I tried to extricate myself from my jean jacket. Alex peered around the corner of his galley kitchen, his eyes quickly taking in that I hadn’t moved.

  “I keep vodka. And only since I started dating you.”

  I sucked in a breath. I still wasn’t used to hearing the word.

  We were dating. We were about to have sex.

  My newly normal life was terrifying.

  “Hey.” Alex came out of the kitchen, handed me the half drunk glass of water. My mouth was dry with nerves, and I chugged every drop. “Serena. There’s no pressure here, okay?”

  “So I’m the only one feeling performance anxiety?” My voice was raw. Alex laughed, then drew me into his arms.

  “We can have sex right now, or we can have it tomorrow. We can have it in a month. I’m not going to make you do anything you’re not comfortable doing.”

  I wanted to bang my head against his chest.

  He was missing the point.

  “I’d be a lot more comfortable if I wasn’t so sexually frustrated right now.” I couldn’
t help but grin at his startled expression. “What? You’ve been driving me nuts for weeks.”

  “Is that so?” Cupping his hands under my elbows, Alex lifted me to my toes, then brushed his lips lightly over my own. “Tell me more.”

  I smiled through his kiss, the worst of my nerves melting away. Still...

  “Alex, I haven’t done this in a long time.” I hissed in a breath when he pressed his mouth to the hollow of my throat, his tongue flicking over the glove soft skin there.

  “It’s been a while for me, too.” He admitted, his hands slowly dropping from my elbows, then cupping my breasts through my shirt.

  My eyes blurred as he stroked his thumbs over my nipples. My breath quickened.

  “The blind leading the blind.” I murmured as he turned, then braced my back against the wall. The cool plaster was a delicious contrast to his searing heat at my front.

  He choked out a laugh, his hands doing wicked things as I arched into his touch.

  “I think I still know a trick or two.” Eyes intent on my face, he slid one hand from my breast and down. His finger slid in between my legs, scraping over the denim of my jeans, and I let out a choked cry.

  “Good?” He asked, his eyes never leaving my face.

  “Good.” My voice was hoarse. He held still and, impatient, I rocked against his finger. He chuckled into my hair.

  “Come with me.” Taking my hand, he led me down the short hallway to his bedroom. He knew me well enough by now not to ask to turn on the light.

  I wanted to give him something in return. It was dark, he wouldn’t be able to see my scars.

  While he silently pulled his shirt up and over his head, I did the same. When his fingers landed on me again, my torso was bare.

  “God, Serena.” His hands were suddenly everywhere, exploring the newly discovered flesh. I shivered under his touch, hooking my fingers into his waistband.

  “I need help with my bra,” I whispered. His breath was warm on my cheek as he wrapped his arms around me and unhooked the clasp. And then we were skin to skin for the first time, and instead of being terrifying, it felt absolutely right.

  Wrapping me in his arms, he kissed me until my mind was wiped of everything but him. In that moment, my past didn’t even exist for me.

  There was just the two of us.

  “Is this okay?” Alex’s hands slid between our bodies, and he tugged on the button of my jeans. My heart leapt as I murmured in the affirmative.

  He slid the button from its hole, then pulled down the zipper of my jeans. I wiggled to help him move the snug denim down my hips, shivering as the cool air hit my skin.

  “Help me with mine?” He asked, his voice ragged. I fumbled with his belt buckle, finally drawing the worn leather through the denim loops.

  Then his mouth found my nipple, and he had to do the rest himself.

  When there was nothing between us, he lowered me to the bed. I heard the tearing of cardboard, then the crinkle of foil seconds before he ranged himself over top of me.

  “Sure of yourself, are you?” I laughed breathlessly, squinting, just able to make him out as he sheathed himself in a condom. The sight made my heart stop.

  Bracing his arms on either side of me, he kissed me gently. I could feel his hardness against the soft skin of my thigh, and clenched with anticipation.

  “I’m never sure of myself with you.” He rocked his hips, and I cried out as his heat rubbed over my slickness. “But a guy can always hope.”

  I grinned, reaching down to take him in my hand. He groaned and thrust into my grip.

  “I don’t want to rush you. Are you ready?” His voice was serious. I knew that, even with his cock poised to enter my cunt, I could tell him to stop right now and he would.

  Instead I savoured the need that I could hear in Alex’s voice, and that I could feel in the trembling of his muscles.

  “I’ve been ready for weeks.” I whispered. A soft little cry escaped my lips when he slid his fingers between my legs, making sure.

  “I’ll go slow.” He groaned. I didn’t want him to—I wanted to be consumed. I arched my hips and helped guide him to my entrance, my need a physical ache.

  Slowly, so slowly, he entered me, and our voices cried out together once he was seated inside of me.

  “Okay?” He propped himself up on his elbows, nose to nose with me. I looked up into those amazing eyes that I could barely see in the dark, and that’s when I lost my heart.

  “Okay,” I agreed, lifting my hips to show him that I actually was. And then he began to move.

  It wasn’t perfect—first times never are. My nose hit his when I lifted my head for a kiss. He bit my lower lip a bit too hard when I arched up to meet his thrust and he got a little bit too excited.

  But as our movements became faster, as we both reached for that release, it was like I’d never had sex before, like my past didn’t exist—like I was untarnished. The pleasure that coiled deep in my core was pure, and I welcomed it with open arms.

  We both tensed as the wave of sensation washed over our skin; I felt him holding back, his body tense, waiting for me. Only once I had shuddered through my own release did he plunge fully into my heat and let himself go, his voice a roar as he buried his face in my hair and came.

  I stroked my palm over his hot, damp skin as I tried to catch my breath, and my eyes closed as emotion filled me up as surely as he did.

  I knew then why I’d felt so empty before I’d met him.

  I’d been waiting for him.

  Chapter Ten

  “Wow.”

  I snickered at Alex’s rather oversimplified description of what had just happened between us.

  “What?” He protested, rolling me until I faced him, wrapped in his arms. “Don’t make try for complete sentences right now. That was just... wow.”

  Though I said nothing, I silently agreed. I’d had lots of sex, but it had all been pale blue compared to the scarlet and crimson of what had just happened.

  “Will you stay overnight?” He mumbled into my hair. Drowsily, I agreed. My happiness in that moment was perfect.

  Maybe, I thought... maybe I could actually have a normal life.

  “Serena?” He asked again. Nuzzling into his neck, I smiled.

  “You’re awfully chatty after sex,” I teased him. He tensed beside me.

  “You’ve trusted me with your body now,” he started, and I felt my cloud of happiness begin to dissipate.

  “Alex, no.” I pressed my fingers against his lips, but he shook them away.

  “Serena, we’re together in every possible way. Why can’t you trust me with your secret?”

  A chill began to paint my skill, raising goose bumps where only moments earlier there had been delicious warmth.

  I felt a surge of irritation.

  “You have things you won’t tell me, too,” I snapped, pushing back from him. I sat up, holding the covers to my chest.

  Alex sat up as well, and a moment later the lamp snapped on. I gasped as I pulled the covers up to hide my arms, my shoulders. He pinched his lips tightly together at my movements, tossing his discarded T-shirt at me while he huffed out an exasperated breath.

  “There’s a big difference, Serena.” He raked his hand through his hair, making it stand up in little spikes while I tried to get the T-shirt over my head without letting my scars show.

  “You want to know about my past?” Alex shoved back the covers and climbed out of bed. Standing there, naked and unabashed, he looked a little wild, but I didn’t feel like I was in any danger.

  “When I was sixteen I lived with a couple named Karina and Joss. Joss wasn’t home a lot, and Karina did a lot of things to get attention from him.” Alex’s lips pressed together in a thin line.

  “Alex, you don’t have to tell me this.” I looked down at my fingers, feeling as if his words were tearing me in two. “Everyone has secrets.”

  “Not like this.” The crystal color of his eyes glittered with conviction. “And the
two of us together, we have too much baggage to have a relationship. Not unless some of those bags go overboard.”

  The only way I could rid myself of my baggage was if I went back to the house I’d lived in as a teen. I’d have to confront Felicity, to confront him.

  The thought made nausea coat my throat, and I gagged.

  “Do you want some water?” He asked, impatient. Even when he was mad at me, Alex took care of me. I didn’t understand it.

  “No.” My voice sounded dry, but if I drank even a sip I’d throw it up. I swallowed against the sandpaper of my throat, then sat back on my heels.

  Alex continued.

  “Have you ever heard of Münchausen syndrome by proxy?”

  I shook my head, though the lyrics of an old Eminem song played through my head.

  “It refers to the abuse of another person, usually a child, by their caretaker for the sake of attention.”

  “Oh, God.” My heart broke for him as I intuited what was about to follow. “No.”

  Alex nodded sharply. I wanted nothing more than to cross to him, to wrap my arms around him, to soothe the hurt away, but his arms were crossed tightly across his chest, warning me away.

  “First it started with the burns. You’ve seen the scars. She would burn me with her cigarettes, then tell the social workers that I was doing it to myself. I was a difficult teenager, and it wasn’t hard to believe.”

  My fingers itched to run over those scars. Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I crawled across the bed and took his upper arms in my hands. He flinched, his expression raw, but didn’t shrug me away.

  “Then she figured out that she could use my diabetes to better effect.”

  My mouth fell open; I simply couldn’t imagine someone doing that.

  “She would overdose my insulin so that I hit what’s called an extreme low. A diabetic who passes out from low blood sugar needs a dose of something called Glucagon, which she may or may not administer right away, depending on her mood. Even if she decided to give me the Glucagon, I would be miserable for days afterwards—it doesn’t feel good. So she’d get lots of attention from that.” His words were dark. I watched as the Alex I knew and cared for retreated into his memories. I scarcely dared to breathe, afraid to disturb him.

 

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