Dead Girls Don't Keep Secrets

by Ames B Winterbourne

  “Don’t hide from me.” His husky voice is seducing.

  I feel more exposed now than I ever have before, but I don’t want to cringe away. Instead of watching him take all of me in, I stare at his chest.

  He leans down and kisses my collarbone first, then drags his lips to my neck and nibbles softly, then nuzzles his lips there. My body melts against his. He pulls himself away from me for a moment, and our eyes meet. The hunger in his eyes is evident. He wants his dessert before dinner, and I start to panic.

  “Stop thinking,” he murmurs.

  “Why?” I squeak.

  He flashes his dimples at me. “I’m not going to rush you. I’ve wanted this for a long time. I love everything about you.”

  “By everything, you mean the pudge on my stomach?” I snort, even though my cheeks burn.

  “Your insistence that you are fat would be insulting to people bigger than you. You’re not fat, Lake. You’re curvy.”

  “The term is ‘more to love,’” I mutter.

  He grumbles something under his breath, then says, “You’re so oblivious to your appeal it’s almost irritating.”

  I swallow as he presses his whole body against me. Though I’ve never imagined he’d get hot and bothered by little ol’ me, I can feel that he definitely isn’t faking his interest.

  His hand hovers above the button of my jeans. “Can I?”

  I didn’t expect him to ask, but I’m grateful that he does. It puts me at ease that he’s asking for permission instead of just demanding it. My body quivers and I nod.

  He slowly unzips my jeans and tugs them down to the ground, going down with them. His face is eye level with my most intimate parts, but his eyes never leave my face. He stands back up and then slowly but thoroughly kisses me. When he finally pulls away, his breath is ragged and he says, “Are you sure you want this, Lake?”

  “I … I want to try.”

  “I want to, too.” He gently caresses my shoulder with his calloused thumb. “But how do I know this isn’t just an ‘in the moment’ kind of thing? I have feelings for you, and I don’t want you to think this is a mistake. I want you to be in control of your emotions when you and I …”

  “I’m scared.” My voice shakes.

  “I know.”

  “This might be our only chance. When we find out who killed Felicia, will we go back to being enemies? Will we still feel this? I don’t want to regret not being with you when I can, but I also don’t want to regret it if things change.”

  “Things have already changed,” he says. “But not for the bad … we … I love you, Lake.”

  My heart stutters in my chest. I’m too stunned to form words. Ryder loves me. I don’t understand, and yet, right now, I want to believe it. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I can say anything. “Ryder …”

  “Don’t say anything. You don’t have to say it back.”

  I don’t say anything else. I kiss him, and he kisses me back with such gentleness, like he’s scared I’ll shatter into pieces if I’m touched the wrong way. Just the feel of his lips calms me. He calms me. Everything about Ryder makes me feel safe. I don’t know if it is love—it’s too soon to tell—but I care about Ryder. It’s different than my superficial crush on Jaxon. It’s real and true.

  “I want you to touch me,” I whisper.

  His eyes widen in shock. “Lake.”

  “Please.”

  He hesitates, but does what I say. He tenderly kisses my shoulder, taking small nips at my skin as he moves slowly up my collarbone to my lips. His kiss is different this time. It’s passionate, full of pent-up frustration. It makes my whole body hot with pleasure.

  His hands inch behind my thighs, and he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his hips instinctively and he pulls me close, hugging me instead of kissing me like I expected.

  He pulls away from me briefly and says, “I love you, Lake. I really do.”

  I kiss him again as he walks us to the bed and sits with me on his lap. He pulls back and I’m dizzy.

  “We can just cuddle if you want.” He’s definitely understanding, but at the same time, it’s frustrating.

  “I want you to touch me,” I repeat.

  “Lake—”

  I cut him off by taking his hand in mine and kissing his palm gently. “Please,” I say against his palm.

  He pulls his hand away from my grasp and slowly inches his hand to my chest, caressing me. I’m more sensitive than I ever thought I’d be. His hand squeezes gently as he rubs me.

  “Are you fondling my boobs?” I tease.

  His face holds no humor. His brow is puckered and he gazes at me with seriousness. He’s holding himself back. “Does it … does it feel good?”

  I nod. I want him to touch me more. I lean into him and devour his lips with mine.

  When I pull away for breath and look at him in a daze, I catch him smirking at me.

  “Don’t ruin it,” I hiss, expecting him to make some sort of snarky remark.

  He chuckles softly and then twirls us around so my back hits the bed. I gasp as he hovers above me.

  I’ve gazed into his eyes many times over the last few days, but being so close to him, they’re more alluring and brighter than I ever thought possible.

  “I’ve never noticed how long your eyelashes were before,” I say.

  The edges of his lips lift up. “I was always considered a pretty boy.”

  “I want to feel something when I don’t really feel anything. Is that an okay reason?”

  For a moment he sucks in a breath, torn, but then says, “Yeah.”

  He surprises me with a smile. His understanding warms my heart. He kisses me softly as his hand creeps down my body. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I’ve never touched myself before, or even felt the urge to, so when Ryder touches me, I gasp in shock.

  He takes his time exploring my body, and I melt at his touch. I watch his face, so intent and determined. It makes me want to return the favor. I inch my hand toward him and say, “Can I?”

  His eyes widen, as though he’s shell-shocked. His jaw ticks, but he nods and fumbles a bit before he takes his other hand and shows me what to do.

  I don’t know how long we lie there, touching each other, but finally, when I can’t take it anymore, I whimper, “It’s too much … I … is-is it supposed to feel like this?” I sound like I’m hiccuping.

  “Just relax.”

  I feel like I’m going to break. I breathe in, about to cry out, when his mouth covers mine.

  When I finally come back down to earth, we’re both panting. He pulls away from me, and I almost cry out from the loss of him.

  “I think that’s enough for tonight,” he says.

  I look at the part of him that isn’t agreeing with his words. Before he can get out of bed, I pounce on top of him. He gasps.

  “Lake, what are you doing?”

  “I … I want more,” I murmur softly.

  “Are you … are you sure?” His Adam’s apple bobs.

  I nod tentatively. “I want to feel.”

  “It may not feel good for you. It’s your first time.”

  I know that, but at the same time, I know what we’ve done isn’t enough. Part of me feels numb, and the only thing I want to do is touch him.

  I lean down and gently kiss him. It’s a softer kiss than our last few. He lets me take control of the situation as my lips move against his neck and then down his chest. I don’t dare go down any farther. He groans when I bite the spot right between his neck and his shoulder. Then, he flips me on my back.

  “Lake, I don’t know if you’re really ready for this.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for this,” I say.

  He gives me a quizzical look before he says, “I don’t want you to think this is a mista
ke.”

  I know if I don’t kiss Ryder here and now, I might never get the chance to again. “I won’t,” I say, though it isn’t completely true. There is a possibility I may say it. I’m panting hard and beg, “Please.”

  He leaves me for a moment and opens his bedside table drawer. He pulls out a condom and rips it open. I watch as he places it on himself.

  He hovers over me for a second, before he nudges my legs apart. I don’t expect it to feel anything other than painful, and it is. I gasp and can’t help but let a few tears slip out. His face is red as he watches me. He leans down and presses his lips to mine. It’s intoxicating and distracts me from the pain. I expect pain and numbness. But what I really get is warmth, love, and comfort. Yes, there’s pain, but the numbness I dreamed of never comes. Instead, I feel whole.

  ***

  We lie down for a while after, trying to catch our breaths. He pulls me to his chest, and I cuddle close to him. Once we can breathe again, he pulls away from me and gets off the bed. He walks into his adjoining bathroom and closes the door.

  I know that if I move, everything will throb worse than it already does. Thoughts consume me as I lie aching. I’ve had my first kiss, first orgasm, and lost my virginity all in one day. It’s insane. It’s out of character. But of all things, I’m shocked I don’t regret it.

  When he opens the door and makes eye contact with me, he smiles. His dimples make him look like the happy-go-lucky sort of guy I’ve always thought he is. Suddenly, the fears and anxiety I felt moments ago vanish.

  He makes his way over to the bed and hands me a towel. I take it, then clean myself off. I hand it back to him, and then he throws it across the room and into the hamper.

  “You scored.”

  “In more ways than one.” He jiggles his eyebrows and I giggle. Actually giggle. “That’s the first time I made a sexual joke and you didn’t try to cut off my balls.”

  “I’m too exhausted.” I’m more than exhausted. I ache down there from the pain and the bit of pleasure. I never thought I’d actually have sex and enjoy it at all the first time. I enjoyed parts of it, though other parts were painful. The goal was to feel something, and I know I’ll be feeling this aching pain for a while. But at the same time, I’m content.

  “I’m so happy right now.” He settles in next to me and faces me.

  “Why?”

  There’s a tenderness in his eyes I’ve never seen before. “Because, I’m finally getting everything I’ve ever wanted, and it’s better than I expected. You know, you’re the first girl to ever be in my room.”

  I snort at his attempt to make me feel good. Though I’ve heard rumors no one has seen his house, it still takes me by surprise. “Very funny.”

  “No, really.” He says with all seriousness. “I’ve never brought a girl back to my house before. Only you.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  He just smiles. “Believe it. I’ve never shared this side of me with anyone before.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I never wanted to share this side of myself with anyone I didn’t care about. I’ve never even brought my friends to my house before. I’m a hosting virgin.”

  Ryder being a virgin at anything is a ridiculous concept. When I glance in his direction, he bites his lip as though he’s shy.

  “But you showed me.”

  “I have never cared about anyone as much as I have cared about you. Call me an idiot or whatever. I never wanted to taint any possibility with you if I was ever lucky enough.”

  “I …”

  “Don’t say anything. I don’t want you to say anything. You might regret it. I know you don’t feel what I feel. I love you, Lake. I may not have always expressed it, but you’ve always been it for me, ever since we were kids.”

  “I … I don’t know how I really feel about you, Ryder. I’ve hated you for years. It doesn’t go away that fast. But that doesn’t mean it won’t. I can’t help but want to know more about you. I want to get to know you better. Maybe then I could say with all honesty that I like you.”

  “Does wanting to get to know me better mean you’ll go on a date with me? One I don’t have to force you into?”

  I think about it for a moment. What I said is true. I know I’m beginning to care for Ryder, and I also know I still resent him. But I want to get to know him.

  “I’ll go on a date with you.”

  He presses a kiss to my temple. “Thank you.”

  After a while, I grow tired. I feel like I can sleep forever. Before I turn away, he pulls me against him again. My head rests on his chest. I glance at his face. His eyes are closed.

  “I’ve never cuddled anyone before. I don’t like hugs very much.” He yawns. “But you’re different.”

  “How am I different?” I ask.

  He opens one eye and says, “Because you’re you. I’ve never been so happy before in my life.”

  He closes his eyes again. I can’t help but stifle my own yawn.

  “Goodnight, Lake,” he whispers. Then, he kisses the top of my head and holds me close. I fall asleep, basking in the warmth of his body.

  ***

  The moonlight shines through the blinds of the room. I don’t know how long I’ve been out, but I’ve been warm for the majority of it. Now, I’m cold as a corpse. I turn to check if Ryder’s here, but he isn’t.

  Chapter 17

  “Ryder?” I say groggily, but there’s no answer. “Ryder?” I call out a little louder.

  The room is shrouded in darkness. I glance at the clock on the bedside table and see that it’s nearly eight at night. My dad is going to kill me. I don’t even have to check my cellphone to know he’s going to flip the fuck out. Besides, I left my cellphone in Ryder’s car. It’s pointless, especially because I already know what’s coming. The second Dad finds out I spent the night with Ryder Frost, he’s going to castrate Ryder and send me to a nunnery.

  I have no clue where Ryder is, but it’s not like I’m his keeper—though, he did bring me here and then abandon me. Being in his space feels odd. Not necessarily in a bad way, but still, it isn’t good, either. Everything I think I know is being questioned, and now I’m questioning my own feelings for Ryder Frost.

  The one rule I’ve always had is to stay away from all the guys at school. I’ve heard enough breakup ballads to know that love will only lead to pain and anguish, and sometimes doing the nasty with a stranger in a club. I decided long ago I wouldn’t let anyone get close to me, especially since Felicia. Even though I crushed on Jaxon, my guard has always been up.

  I still can’t believe I let Ryder touch me. He didn’t push me; he made sure I was okay with everything. It’s all so new. He respected me and I wonder if he does the same for other girls, too.

  I sit up in bed and stretch my back, sighing at the sound of a crack. I push the covers off and notice that I’m completely bare. I flush at the thought that I’ve been completely naked the whole night. The room is icy and as I stand, I shiver. I grab the blanket from the bed and pull it around me like it’s a wrap-dress. The lower part of my body throbs, and my mind wanders back to earlier. I lost my virginity to Ryder Frost. It’s something I never thought would happen in a million years, but at the same time, I can’t bring myself to completely regret it. I mean, there’s a little regret, especially since I wish it had been under better circumstances than desperation. But at the same time, I can’t help but feel at ease about the whole thing. Crazy, right? I’ve hated the guy since middle school, and yet I gave it up to him.

  Ryder’s bathroom door is ajar. It’s completely dark, though, so I know he’s not in there. Though it was cold last night, my body’s sticky from dried sweat. I yearn for a shower. I flick on the bathroom lights and walk over to his shower. I open the shower curtain and turn on the shower, placing my hand under the running water to check the temperature. Just a
s I drop the blanket, letting it circle my feet, I hear a scream.

  “You what!” All the hairs on my neck prickle at the sound of the sheriff’s voice. I quickly pull my hand back and shut off the water. I run from the bathroom, nearly tripping over the blanket, and head back into Ryder’s room. I find my clothing dry and in a neat pile. Ryder must have thrown them in the drier for me.

  If the sheriff is yelling, that means he probably knows about Ryder and me. It’s bad. I know it is.

  I yank on my bra, quickly adjusting the straps, though I don’t think I’ve hooked it properly, and then throw my shirt over my head. I pull on my sweatshirt and then grab my jeans, nearly tripping as I struggle to yank them on. Once I’m decent, I open the door. I cringe at the sound of it creaking. There’s definitely no way out without drawing attention to myself. I attempt to pat my hair down, knowing from a quick glance in the mirror in the bathroom that it’s wild and parts are sticking straight up. Ryder’s room is in the back of the house, and from the sounds of the sheriff’s screams, I know I’ll have to pass wherever they are to make it to the front door.

  I quietly tiptoe down the hall. My feet are bare since I left my shoes at the front entry. I’m right outside the kitchen door, which isn’t completely shut, when I hear glass shatter from within the room.

  “Please, calm down. Please, don’t do this,” Ryder begs, but whatever the sheriff is throwing continues to loudly crash against the floor.

  I know I shouldn’t go in, or even take a peek, but I do anyway. The kitchen is just as it was before, except pieces of ceramic litter the floor.