Damaged and the Dragon
Page 8
I thought about my brother hurting Nick and my rage bubbled. Normally, I always took my family’s side over any outsider, but not with Nick. I knew Cooper was wrong. I just didn’t know why. Not really. I thought he was an idiot for losing his mind over a girl who played with his emotions.
Farah wasn’t playing and Cooper learned to help her. I knew Nick wasn’t playing either. He wanted me and I wanted him. It was simple, but I needed to be patient. Unfortunately for Nick and me, I sucked at patience.
Chapter Fourteen ~ Nick
Loneliness was a common symptom of my upbringing that I’d learned to ignore. By high school, I didn’t seek out close friends. Keeping everything casual, I didn’t let people close. I refused to be in a position to answer questions about my scars or asshole dad. Desperate to pretend I was someone else, I found lies were easier when I kept people at a distance.
Bailey wasn’t people though. She was mine. I felt it in my gut, but that didn’t make letting her close any easier.
For a few hours in Bailey’s bed, I slept better than I had in years. Closing my eyes to the image of Bailey’s bleary eyes and red nose, I felt safe. I dozed off to the aroma of her summery scent mixed with Vicks.
Waking later, I found Bailey snoring quietly. She looked like a very stuffed up baby drooling on her pillow while breathing through her mouth. Even sick, she was too beautiful for a guy like me.
Losers occasionally ended up with people above their worth. Pretty successful girls with ugly lame guys. Overweight dumb girls with the athletic winners. If a connection happened, the loser’s flaws might be ignored. Bailey felt something for me, so I hoped she might overlook the scars and intimacy issues. If she could see only the good parts, I might win her heart.
Unable to sleep, I carefully slid out of bed to ensure I didn’t wake Bailey. Her snoring never paused as I left the bedroom. Feeling dirty, what I really wanted was a shower. Since this was out of the question with Bailey sleeping, I cleaned her kitchen. First I washed the few dishes in the sink. Then I wiped down the counter and the cabinets. The place wasn’t really dirty, but I needed to create order where in my mind was a ruined mess.
Drying the dishes, I heard the front door open. I prayed Cooper wasn’t visiting because I wasn’t in the mood for more dick measuring. Instead, a curly haired blonde appeared in the kitchen with a lit cigarette dangling from one hand and a Tupperware container from the other. Her blue eyes sized me up quickly then she nodded and placed the container on the counter.
“You’re Nick.”
“I came over to check on Bailey.”
“How’s my baby doing?” she asked, glancing towards the bedroom.
“Stuffed up, but sleeping.”
Jodi nodded then sized me up again. “You have mama issues, don’t you, Nick?”
“Should I leave?”
Staring directly into my eyes, she asked, “Do you want to leave?”
Even with her unflinching gaze and my urge for distance from the judgments she must be making about me, I shook my head.
“Then why should you leave?”
I shrugged as she took a drag on her cigarette.
“Bailey needs a good man. Not only because I want my baby to be happy, but because a bad man would hurt her and end up in a shallow grave. I don’t want a dead son-in-law, so only a good man will do for Bailey.”
“Was that a threat?”
“Only if you’re a bad man.”
“I don’t think I’m bad. I’m not necessarily good though.”
Jodi smirked. “Nick, you’re a fucking Boy Scout next to the men I know and love.”
“And that’s a good thing, right? You know, so you don’t end up with a dead son-in-law.”
“Exactly. I like how you defended Bailey at that party last year. Just because I want someone nice don’t mean I want a coward.”
When I said nothing, Jodi squinted at me. “Bailey told me about your parents. Losers who did a shit job. No wonder you look at me like that.”
“She told you my parents were losers?”
“No, she told me your mom was a druggie who ditched you. Your dad wasn’t a winner either. I put the loser stamp on them myself. Am I wrong?”
I shook my head.
“When Bailey is feeling better, you two should come to the house for dinner. Let Kirk get to know you. He’ll growl and glare. The whole mean daddy routine, but he’s glad you’re not a punk ass loser from a frat house or that stupid deputy. I swear Bailey has the worst taste,” Jodi said, dropping her cigarette in the sink and running water over it. “I always worried she’d marry some pothead who wrote poetry. Or a mean fucker Kirk would make disappear. I like this turn of events with you. Kirk will like them too when he’s done giving you shit.”
I smiled tightly. “I just want Bailey to be happy.”
“Don’t you care about being happy too?”
“Sure.”
“Yeah, I can tell you had a shitty mom. It happens. Mine was a bitch too.”
I finally smiled for real and Jodi returned it.
“You’ll probably get sick from being around her,” she warned.
“I grew up in so much filth that I’m immune to most germs.”
“There’s always an upside to everything. I never get sick either, but my kids are weak because I raised them well.”
When we smiled, her expression relaxed me and I realized she shared her daughter’s smile. I loved when Bailey grinned. When she laughed, the world was magic.
Chapter Fifteen ~ Bailey
I spent my life avoiding embarrassment. When I tripped or spilled something, I tended to throw a fit as a way to distract from my original mistake. Lark pointed out how I was actually drawing attention to my dorkiness by reacting like a child. Since her loving lecture, I’d been teaching myself to handle the initial embarrassing moments with more class.
Waking up covered in drool and snot was more than embarrassing. I flew into a panic mode and nearly toppled off the bed. Noticing Nick was missing, I assumed he got one look at my nastiness and made a run for it.
Instead, I heard him in the living room with Mom. After hurrying to the bathroom to wash away the nasty, I joined them. Nick sat on one end of the couch while Mom sat at the other. She was telling him about Sawyer’s curls and how I’d gotten lucky by getting Pop’s straight hair.
“Just warning you that you might have curly haired kids,” she finished then smiled at me. “How you feeling, baby?”
“Awkward.”
Nick grinned at me, but he seemed relaxed. My mom had worn down his efforts to keep her at bay like I knew she would eventually. She was the same way with Farah. Pushing and nagging until Farah opened up and lost her walls.
“I brought you soup,” Mom said, walking to me and checking my face. “No fever. Wanna eat?”
Glancing past her to Nick, I mumbled. “In a little bit.”
“Since Nick wants to take care of you, I’ll leave for a while. I’ll be back after dinner to bring you leftovers.”
Forgetting my embarrassment, I smiled at Nick. “We have great leftovers.”
Nick returned my smile with an easy one of his own. As soon as Mom was out the door, he popped up from the couch and erased the space between us. I opened my mouth to protest his impending kiss, but Nick shut me up.
His lips sucked hungrily on mine until I started laughing. Nick pulled back and frowned. Once he realized I wasn’t laughing at him, he kissed me again.
Somehow, we moved to the couch without me falling down. I wasn’t the most coordinated chick, but Nick held me just right and I let him lead.
“You really are going to get sick,” I mumbled when he let me breathe.
Jumping up, he hurried to the kitchen to get me a cup of fresh coffee. When he returned, Nick smiled brightly. “I better stop kissing you or you’ll suffocate.”
“Did my mom talk your ear off?”
“She’s like a shorter version of you.”
“So yes then?”
r /> Nick sat next to me and grinned. “I know you’re sick and that’s not cool, but I’m glad I came over.”
“Me too. Will you stay?”
Nick glanced back at the door then focused on me. “I didn’t think to bring extra clothes. When I told Jodi that, she said she had sweats and shirts I could wear. They might even fit and I know I’ll like wearing baggy shirts again.”
I reached out and caressed his chest. “These don’t really fit you.”
“I’m cheap when it comes to buying clothes.”
“Maybe we can go shopping. I love buying stuff, but don’t need anything new.”
“I don’t need you to buy me clothes.”
Hearing edginess to his tone, I sniffled then coughed hard and long. By the time I stopped playing up the sick act, Nick looked concerned.
“Please, let me buy you clothes. It’ll be fun and give me something to look forward to.”
Nick nodded, but his eyes revealed how he was onto me. I grinned then snuggled closer.
“Do I look gross?” I asked, batting my lashes for him. “Am I disgusting?”
“You look beautiful and you know it too.”
“I’m insecure.”
“Based on what?”
“Based on the crazy in my head.”
“But you know you’re crazy which means you can’t really be crazy. People who are really crazy think they’re sane because the insanity makes sense to them. It’s the rest of us that seem nuts.”
“How do you know?”
“I had a neighbor with mental issues. I don’t know what exactly, but he often talked to me about how he saw the world. What sounded like madness to me made perfect sense to him,” he said, nuzzling my hair with his lips. “You seek out acceptance even when you have it. I’m not sure why, but you’re not crazy.”
“I worry I’ll lose what I want.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you lose something important before?”
“No.”
“Did you get more attention after Sawyer was born if you acted insecure?”
I squinted at him. “You think I’m faking it?”
“I think we get into habits and never know it. I don’t like people touching me,” he said, avoiding my gaze. “I never realized that until you. I wanted you for a long time then I was bothered to have you touch me. We have habits without knowing it until they slap us in the face.”
“So I can just stop being insecure?”
“You trained yourself to feel insecure. Train yourself to feel otherwise.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. I guess when you feel insecure, ask yourself why? Like when you believe I don’t think you’re beautiful, ask yourself why I wouldn’t? Ask if your feeling is based on anything? Would I really kiss all over you when you’re sick if I didn’t think you were beautiful? If that answer is no, then shove aside the insecurity and accept you’re beautiful.”
I bit my lip and thought about my next words. “Can you learn to like being touched?”
Nick hesitated before looking at me. “I’ll try for you.”
I drank half of the coffee then wondered about my breath. Catching myself getting insecure, I remembered Nick was drinking coffee too. When the feeling eased away, I grinned.
“I used that trick you suggested when I felt insecure about kissing you.”
Nick didn’t answer, instead pressing his lips against mine. I placed my hands on his chest and hoped he worked through his bad habit too. Instead, he jerked his body away even while his lips remained on mine.
Nick wanted me. I knew he did, so I didn’t let his reaction to my touch set off any negative feelings. He just had a bad habit and I needed to help him.
“I know I’m all funky with my stuffed nose, but I want to play around.”
“Play around?” he asked, immediately wary.
“You don’t like people touching you, so I want you to touch me.”
Frowning, Nick started thinking reasons to say no until I took off my shirt and he noticed I wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Be gentle,” I said, nervous even though I knew they looked great. “The new ones haven’t had a guy touch them before. You’re their first.”
Still ready to back off, Nick refused to look at my bare chest.
“How were you with all those other girls if you don’t like being touched?” I asked, taking his hand in mine and caressing it.
“It was always crappy sex at parties or in cars. Nothing real.”
“Do you like my new boobs?” I asked as his hands remained limp against them. “I’m curious if the nipples will be as sensitive after the surgery. Wanna help me find out?”
Nick gave me a pained expression. “I can’t do what you want.”
“I just want you to touch me,” I whispered, caressing his hands. “Touch me and make me feel good. I won’t expect anything more than for you to serve me as my sex slave.”
Nick finally smiled. “I wouldn’t mind exploring everything Bailey Fucking Johansson has to offer.”
“You can stay dressed while I get my sickie self naked.”
“Wouldn’t you rather wait until you feel better?”
“I thought of you when I got my new boobs,” I murmured. “I wanted you to be the first to touch them. No one else.”
Nick’s expression shifted into one of possession. I’d never seen him look so primal and my body responded with more need.
“Another guy would be better for you,” he said in a hard voice. “He could give you what I can’t, but I don’t care. I see you and know you belong with me. I’ve always known. I think you’ve known too.”
“Yes,” I whispered, no longer teasing. “No one else makes me feel like you do.”
“Because you’re mine.”
Nick’s battered hands slid over my breasts and squeezed gently. Heat rushed straight between my legs, causing me to squirm. My already hard nipples thickened between his teasing fingers.
His gaze met mine and I saw something beyond lust. Fear maybe.
“I can’t fuck you,” he whispered roughly. “Not tonight. Not in the way you want.”
My heart hurt at his distance. I wanted our feelings to overcome whatever childhood pains he suffered. Knowing love didn’t magically fix anything, I forced my feelings aside.
“You don’t want me to touch you. Touching me is okay though, right?”
Nick responded by tugging gently at my nipples. Groaning, I smiled at him as my hand moved past my night shorts.
“You can make me feel good,” I sighed. “Serve me, Nick.”
His smile spread as his lips met mine. I kissed him hard, cupping his cheek with one hand while the other teased between my legs. Nick’s lips left mine then sucked at my throat, shoulders, and between my breasts, leaving wet kisses behind. Sighing, I leaned back and waited with hungry anticipation as his tongue christened my right nipple.
Kneeling next to the couch, Nick propped himself over me as he lathered my tits with the kind of affection a girl could get addicted to. I watched him through half open eyes while my hand stroked my clit softly.
Unlike every guy before him, Nick wasn’t throwing in a little foreplay before his big move. Instead, he explored. Nick claimed me, making my body submit to his touch.
Time became fluid. I saw nothing beyond Nick teasing my overheated flesh. How many orgasms did I enjoy without him ever entering me? When his teeth teased my nipple, I lost control and nearly ripped his clothes off. Reaching for him, I was startled by how effortlessly he pinned my arms over my head while his free hand slid into my shorts and returned me to bliss.
Nick’s name echoed in the apartment as I cried it again and again.
“Please,” I whimpered, “I want you inside me.”
Nick didn’t respond with words. He just smiled then sucked on the fingers he used to making me come.
“You’re not ready,” I mumbled, exhausted by so much pleasure. “I can wait a
s long as you do that a lot.”
A smile on his lips, Nick kissed me. “You never let go. Do you know that about yourself?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, trying to sound indignant, but he was teasing my nipples and I really didn’t care about anything else.
Nick’s gaze was soft as he explored me leisurely. “You can’t see it, I guess. You’re on guard though. Even when you’re coming, you don’t really let go. I don’t think you trust me.”
“Do you trust me?”
Nick shook his head, tugging at my nipple. “Not because of you. I don’t trust you because I don’t trust anyone. Not even me. Do you trust people?”
“I guess.”
“Maybe you just don’t trust men,” he murmured.
“You’re not men.”
Nick grinned. “No, I’m not.”
“Want to play in my bed where we can stretch out and my mom won’t walk in on us?”
Saying nothing, Nick stood in an easy movement and lifted me to my feet. I wrapped my arms around his neck and climbed him, feeling how much he wanted to be inside me. Despite his plans to keep his clothes on, I figured the night was still young.
Chapter Sixteen ~ Nick
Thunderstorms always returned me to the closet in the dirty trailer. Knees against my chest, I would hide my face and pray for the noise to stop. As a boy, I cried from how loud everything echoed in the closet. As I got older, I controlled my tears, yet clenched my jaw so tightly I often hurt for days afterwards.
Even after leaving the trailer and moving to Ellsberg, I struggled for control when thunderstorms rolled through. In class once, I spent an hour digging a pen into my hand to distract from the crack of lightning and crash of thunder.
Sitting in Bailey’s apartment, I heard the approaching storm and knew I should leave. Yet the moment I glanced at the door to make my escape, Bailey’s expression changed.
“You want to leave?”
“I should probably head out.”
“Mom’s bringing food.”
“A storm is coming. I better head out.”
“Stay the night,” she whined in a soft voice. “You already spent the night when I was sick. Why not now?”