Damage Me (Crystal Gulf Book 2)

by Shana Vanterpool

  It was losing myself in someone who was just as lost as me.

  When I got to the guesthouse, I was exhausted. Inside, outside—I was tired.

  The distinct sound of female laughter emanated from the living room. Hillary was sitting bunched in a ball on the white couch, eyes on the TV but faraway. She looked so small and afraid. I could tell by the look on her face she wasn’t with me. She was in the past being attacked, falling from the clouds.

  “Hill?”

  “I didn’t ask for that.” A tremor rocked her.

  “You’re not there, baby.” I had to talk her down. When Hillary broke so did I. I’d been breaking too much lately, and she didn’t deserve another crack. “You’re here with me.” Gritting my teeth, I managed to get to the couch and sat down. The second my ass touched the cushion she was on me. Expecting it, I already had my arms open for her. She tucked herself inside, finding every crevice and space. She fit perfectly in my arms. I held her tightly, pressing my lips to her hair. “Take a deep breath.” Her exhalation warmed my chest. “One more. Again. Where are you?”

  “With you,” she whispered.

  “When you’re with me what are you?” When she was with me nothing could hurt her. She had to remember that.

  “Safe.”

  “Hill,” I said, at my breaking point. Letting go, unable to forget, wanting things I couldn’t have and having things I couldn’t keep—everything was too much. “We can’t keep doing this. I want to be … better. I want to feel better.”

  We broke.

  She sobbed against me, nodding because she understood. Understood and wanted that too. To know she wanted to feel better, to exist without feeling shattered, it effected a part of me I didn’t know I had. Warmth and pain spread through me for this girl. This sweet, good girl who was still all of those things even after what happened to her. I wanted to protect her, to make sure she never suffered, to hold her if she did, and stand in front of anyone who wanted her to suffer again. The feeling was a punch to the ribs. It was too hot and terrifying, but within that feeling I lost myself. It calmed me, made me think this wasn’t as hard as we both knew it was.

  There was so much here that required clarification. There were rules and truths, but all I wanted was to admit that I wanted her. Everything else could catch up later. “What were you watching?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You want to go to bed?”

  “I won’t be able to sleep.”

  “You want something? Anything? I want you to feel better.”

  “I’m fine right here.” She snuggled closer, our bodies pressed so tightly together I could feel every one of her beautiful curves. “With you.”

  I ran my hands over them, her tiny waist, wide hips, and her perfect full round ass. For a few minutes, we remained in that position. My hands roamed over her body, over and over again, until I was so hard I couldn’t help envisioning how perfect it would feel to sink inside of her right now and fade away. “It’s probably a good thing my leg hurts.”

  “Why would you say that? You’re in so much pain.”

  “Because if I could, I’d take all of your clothes off slowly. Then I’d lay you down on the bed. I’d make sure your legs were open wide for me. Your pussy would be wet, wouldn’t it?”

  “So wet, probably.”

  “Probably?”

  “Dylan.” She shook her head against me. “Really wet. It’s only gotten wet for you.”

  Son of a bitch. “It would be really wet. I’d get between your legs. In a perfect world there wouldn’t be a condom, nothing preventing me from feeling your sweet tight pussy around my cock.” When she groaned, I grinned. “Your pussy is tight, am I wrong?”

  “Hmm.”

  “I haven’t tasted it, but I know it’s going to be sweet. Dripping with your honey.” I swallowed the saliva that pooled in my mouth. “Can I continue?”

  “Do. Please.”

  “I’d thrust into your cunt so hard you’d scream.”

  She inhaled sharply, pushing back to glare indignantly. “Dylan Meyer.”

  I laughed at her anger, sliding my hands up and down her thighs. “What?” I asked innocently.

  “That is a filthy word.”

  “Thrust?”

  “Stop.”

  “Hard?”

  “Cut it out.”

  “Cunt?” I wanted to kiss her so fucking hard. Instead, I reached between her legs and grabbed a handful of her golden pussy through her shorts, cupping it roughly because I was a filthy man and she was the good girl I couldn’t help damaging. “You don’t want me to call it a cunt?”

  “Absolutely not.” She grabbed my arm and pulled, removing my hand.

  “What would you like me to call it?”

  “I don’t know. Just not that.” She crossed her arms over her chest, pissed off, so hot.

  “If you don’t know then I have no choice but to take the reins.” I put my hand back, cupping her more gently. “I could have sworn this was my pretty pussy. Isn’t it mine?”

  She slid her hands up my chest to hold my shoulders, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and want. “If it’s yours it isn’t just yours when you want it. It has to be yours always.”

  Her sweetness forced my hand from between her legs. I held her face and kissed her lips delicately. “I want it, Hill. I want it any way I can have it.”

  “Then it’s yours,” she breathed, kissing me back just as soft.

  “What’s mine?” I grinned again, unable to help myself.

  “It’s your pretty pussy.”

  What. The. Hell.

  She sat back, grinning like a bad girl. She slapped her hand over her mouth as her laughter bubbled through. It didn’t hide her eyes, though. They were good and bad, tempting and pulling me in. “Keep going. I liked your story.”

  “Stop interrupting me.” I glared to hide my humor—to mask my lust. “I’d be on top of you. The only thing you’d feel was me. I’d lose myself in you, Hillary Hayes, because right now that’s the only place I want to be. That’s why it’s probably a good thing my leg hurts. Because you’re not ready to give me that, and I don’t think I’m ready to take it.”

  Our eyes locked. Her breathing deepened. “Maybe we should work on healing your leg. Because I want that, Dylan. I want it so badly it hurts.” She tried to kiss me.

  I turned my head to the side. “Sit back.”

  “I want your kiss,” she pouted, dragging her lips over my jaw. The feeling of her soft skin on my hard jaw made my balls ache for her. “Give it to me. Now,” she growled, capturing my mouth.

  I gave in without a fight. Fell right in to her. She tasted like coffee still, this sweet, rich taste that made my mouth water. I tasted her so deeply I heard her moan from all the way between her legs. She kissed me back, tugging on my hair, twisting her tongue, showing me how much she wanted me. I held her to me. Her tongue was hot and wet, and everything I ran from left me the moment she wanted me. The feeling took hold of me. I wasn’t a soldier who barely survived, a shitty father, or a bastard who didn’t deserve her. I was someone she could lose herself in too; I was someone worth wanting.

  But that couldn’t be.

  That wasn’t the way.

  My lips slowed. She shook her head, almost as if she could read my thoughts. Her kiss intensified, pulling me away from the edge. “You’re safe with me too,” she breathed, and then Hillary took me away, kissing me harder than any woman ever had.

  Her hands roamed over my body hungrily. She found the bottom of my shirt and pulled, pushing up it up my chest and over my head. “I love your body. So hard, so smooth. Can I taste it?”

  “Hill.”

  She moved back to my jaw, over my pulse, brushing her lips over my pounding vein. “Yes or no?”

  Taste what? Somehow I didn’t have the heart to ask. “Yes. Damn it. Yes.”

  “Can we go to the bedroom?”

  “Yes.”

  She reached over and knocked my crutches away.
She rose off my lap, breathing hard, eyes wild, but in control. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

  It took one second to understand what she meant. “I can’t walk.”

  “I want you in the bedroom. Let’s go.” She grabbed her own shirt and pulled it off, revealing her white bra, the tops of her perfect tits, her pale creamy stomach. She took a step away, putting her closer to the hall. “You can do it, Dylan.”

  “Stop.” My hard on shriveled up. In its place was cold hard anger and beneath that fear.

  She reached for the top button on her shorts. “Do you want these off?”

  “Yes.” My growl was evil, wanting—I felt cornered.

  They fell down her legs, leaving her in her sexy boy shorts and bra. Her body looked stunning. I could remember how soft she was. How mine she was. She took her hair down and tossed her clip on my lap.

  “If you get up I’ll take this off next.” She cupped her breasts in her small hands.

  The sight of her was confusing me. I wanted between her legs. I wanted to run. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to scream. “Hillary.”

  “It’s going to hurt. But when you get to the bedroom I’ll make you forget. I promise.” Her broken voice broke my heart.

  Someone like her didn’t need any more cracks in their heart. So I took a deep breath and held on to the cushion. I pivoted, thinking maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, until I stood upright on my left leg and realized what I really had to do. I had to walk on a leg that didn’t work. I met her eyes fearfully. “Please give me my crutches.”

  She shook her head, the tears pooling in her gorgeous eyes. “Walk. We’re going to get better. Together.”

  “Give me my fucking crutches!”

  “Walk!” She screamed back just as loud.

  With a growl, I hopped on one leg and took a step. The pain jolted through me, jarring. I hopped again, and again, until I got to the end of the couch. After that there was no more support but the walls, and that was all the way on the other side of the living room, seemingly miles away. In order to get there, I’d have to walk. I’d have to try. Aubrey’s face flashed across my mind. “Are you sad because of me?” she’d asked. I stood up and took my first step in six months.

  Disgusting, sickening pain slammed into me. It made me dizzy; that’s how bad it was.

  “Don’t be sad, Daddy.”

  One more step. I bent over and puked. When I looked up Hillary was completely naked, standing there like an angel haloed by her goodness—she pulled me out of the darkness. I took another step, two more steps; my tears blocked by my eyes. When I got to the wall, she walked into the hall. I took a long break, pulling strength from places I didn’t know I had. Strength that helped me walk down the hall and into the bedroom.

  When I got to the bed, I collapsed, covered in sweat, puke, and tears. Puke stuck to my mouth and chest. The pain had overflowed, leaving me shaking with it. I smelled like throw up, and my tears smeared around my face.

  “I refuse to do that again.”

  “You will do it again.” There was something warm and wet on me. I didn’t even look as Hillary straddled me and wiped me clean. She drug the towel over my face and chest, carefully cleaning me. “Do you want something to drink?”

  I managed to nod. Her body left me. A few minutes later she returned with a glass of ice-cold water. She cradled my head and carefully pressed the glass to my lips, dripping the cool liquid into my mouth. It moistened my throat and chased the taste of puke away.

  “I’m proud of you.”

  I was in too much pain to talk. It radiated from my leg like a knife digging into my bone.

  “So proud.” She sucked on my bottom lip. “I’ve never done this before,” she whispered, kissing me as if that’s all it would take to make me forget.

  “Off.” I tried to push her, but my eyes remained closed. I needed a few more minutes to breathe, to push the pain aside.

  Her lips kissed down my jaw, over my pulse, and then she stopped at my chest. “Do men like it when you lick their nipples?”

  I forced my eyes open and lifted my head to find her draped across my body. “You want to lick my nipple?”

  “Well,” she said, kissing between my pecs. “I liked it when you licked mine.”

  The reminder of her in my mouth chased away some of the ache. “I don’t know, baby. The girls I hook up with don’t usually want to lick my nipple.”

  “What do they want to lick?” Her warm lips moved to the right and closed around my flesh, sucking softly.

  I smiled around my pain. That’s what this girl could do. Pull smiles from the darkness.

  “My dick.”

  She paused, peeking at me. “Does it taste as good as these?” Her tongue darted out and slid across my abs.

  “Do they taste good?”

  “So good.” She kissed down one side, pausing to taste each ridge in my muscles. “So freaking good, Dylan.” When she got to my happy trail, I expected her to stop. Instead, she kept going, twirling her tongue in my hair like she was licking at the last drop of coffee from her mug.

  I hurt all over, and I felt good all over; the mixture of pain and pleasure created a heady, confusing rush inside of me. “Come here.” I grabbed for her arms, but she slid lower, her naked body sliding right along with her.

  She stood between my legs, fingers awkwardly reaching for the buttons on my shorts. “I want to make you feel better.”

  I watched as she pulled my jean shorts apart. For the first time in my entire life, I panicked. Hillary wasn’t like all of the other women I’d been with. My dick was just one more dick in their mouths. Hillary hadn’t done it before, and she didn’t want to do it now, she was just trying to return the favor. Somehow that sucked the pleasure out of me. I didn’t want her doing that to me for me, despite how that usually went. I wanted her to do it the way she touched me—like she couldn’t help it. “Stop.”

  She looked up in defiance. “You stop.” Then she tried to tug my shorts off. She growled when they got stuck on my hips, revealing the top of my pubes. “Dylan.”

  “I’d rather lose myself in you. Not the other way around.” What part of me was worth that? “Come here.” I opened my arms, ignoring that both my hands were shaking, and my leg was teetering on the edge of brutal, and my heart was breaking, and Hillary was beautiful, but only here for a short time.

  The angel was confused. “Why do you always get to set the rules? Why can’t I make a choice? I want to make a choice, Dylan. I realized I like making them. I enjoy having the ability to control my own life. Now lift your hips. I choose this!” she snapped, pulling on my jeans roughly.

  “You want to put my cock in your mouth?” I snapped back. The longer I sugar coated this the more chances she had at choosing wrong. “You want to do that to me? You want to ruin that good mouth with me?”

  “Yes!”

  “This may shock you, but I’m not in the fucking mood anymore.” I knocked her hands away and redid my zipper. She stepped away, covering her breasts, eyes dangerously close to dampening. “Don’t look at me like that.” She swallowed hard, as if I just hurt her beyond words. “Hillary. There’s no going back if you do that to me. We both know you’re going to want to go back someday. What if you wake up tomorrow and regret this?” Regret me?

  “You licked my ass, Dylan. I think I’d regret that more.”

  She was getting feisty. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. “What if, baby?” My tone lowered, forcing her to listen, to hear the words rather than the argument that it would take to defend them.

  “Why are you so positive I’m leaving? Like I’m going to wake up tomorrow, or in two months, and suddenly realize I feel differently? Don’t you get it, Dylan? I don’t want to leave you.” Fire poured from her eyes, hot torrid truths.

  She had no idea who I was.

  I don’t want to leave you.

  Who I’d been to survive my entire life. Who I would be regardless of what she wanted.

  Don’t you g
et it, Dylan?

  That wasn’t good for her.

  Why are you so positive I’m leaving?

  All I could think was: don’t leave me.

  “Why do you think so poorly of yourself?” The wetness in her eyes spilled over. “Who told you that you weren’t worth it? I think you’re worth it. I know you are.” Her hands were on the bed, her eyes were on me, and she crawled up my body like she wasn’t going to look back. Settling on top of me, she found my mouth and kissed me until I could remember only one thing. Her.

  “Enough.” I pulled my lips free and inhaled gratefully as she kissed along my jaw and throat.

  As she did so, she rubbed herself against me, grinding on my hard on. She rose with a gasp and splayed her hands on my chest, this wild blond woman on my lap. Watching her lose herself was unhinging. Her hips created her own perfect rhythm. When she had it, she tossed her head back and moaned, rubbing her pussy against me until she tensed. Her breathless moans made me want her. I wanted inside of her, to feel her clench as she came. When she fell forward, I caught her and wrapped her in my arms and held her as she trembled from her orgasm.

  “Wouldn’t you rather I make you feel good? You deserve to feel good.”

  “You too.”

  Her sleepy tone made me smile. “Tired?”

  “Mhm.”

  “I wonder why.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Do you want to sleep?”

  “Together?”

  We shouldn’t sleep together. Couples slept together. It would make it harder for both of us. The last woman I’d slept with was Harley the morning before I told her I was a liar and ruined everything. I wanted that again. To be close to someone and fear it. To be afraid of something that made me feel good. Instead, I rubbed my hands up and down her spine, tracing the goose bumps I left behind. “You know you can pretty much have what you want.”

  “Hmm,” she mumbled again, as if that weren’t true.

  I sighed in her hair. “You’re here, aren’t you? In my arms. In bed. You got what you wanted. Dweeb,” I grumbled.

  Her giggle was surprised and quiet. “Jerk,” she retorted.

  “Nerd.”

  “Manwhore.”

  “My good girl,” I breathed.