Accepting Cherry

by Chrissy Snyder

  He needs to know my past. I’m scared that he’ll do what everyone else did, and just let me down. Where will I be then? Will I be alone again? Ugh. I have to stop thinking about this and get out of my funk. I want to enjoy our evening, not put a damper on it.

  We head to Sawyer’s place. Conversation is easy and not rushed. My mouth drops when we get there. I’m in awe. He has a gorgeous, ranch style home, with a large wrap around deck. I can picture myself sitting out here, sipping on my coffee, and enjoying the solitude. He has perfect outdoor furniture for just that. The house is large and sprawling, the outside done in wooden logs that are interspersed with large stonework. The masonry is stunning. The entire home is stunning. “I love it Sawyer. It’s gorgeous,” I exclaim, with a huge smile on my face. I’m a bit confused by the look of relief on Sawyer’s face, so he rushes to explain. “I actually designed most of it myself. I dabbled in architecture and couldn’t decide whether to follow numbers or design.” I can tell he’s being modest, hiding his talent.

  “You’re just a jack of all trades,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s sort of unusual for a person to be so keen with numbers and order to have such a creative side.”

  Geez, I sound like Mama. What the hell?

  Thank goodness he just laughs at me. “My mom used to say that.”

  Sawyer leads me to the front walk with a hand on the small of my back, softly rubbing circles. He keys in the alarm code and we head into his front entryway. To say the house is huge is an understatement. It seems to go on forever, and it’s stunning. The inside is extremely cozy, with large wooden beams across the ceiling. It’s rustic yet elegant.

  I get a mini tour of the place with Sawyer pointing out key elements, like where the bathroom is, and describing his favorite features. I’m standing at the French doors to the back deck, looking out across acres and acres of wooded land. The entire property is beautiful. I don’t hear Sawyer come up behind me and I breathe in sharply, startled, as his arms come around me. He pulls me tight into his body and nuzzles his face into my hair.

  I angle my head to give him free access to my neck and shiver in anticipation. He bites and nips his way up my neck, stopping behind my ears. I’m trembling, my body eager for more. He pulls the t-shirt off of my body, leaving me in my white, lacy bra. He groans aloud as he cups my breasts. I sigh and arch, leaning backwards into him, grinding my ass against his erection. He releases the front clasp of my bra, revealing my breasts, which are heaving with every breath I take. “Beautiful,” he whispers.

  He cups my breasts, massaging them, pinching my nipples sharply. I moan as the pleasure consumes my body. My legs are trembling, my body eager, as he undoes the snap on my shorts and pulls them down along with my white lace thong. He alters my position and pushes me between my shoulders, so I bend forward until I’m bent over the arm of the couch, my face on the seat cushion. He starts massaging the globes of my ass. He parts the cheeks and I feel his tongue swipe the seam of my ass. I’m shocked, but the sensation is unbelievable. I’ve never experienced a feeling quite like this. Sawyer eats at my ass and my pussy like a starving man. I’m mewling and begging. “More please. Oh, don’t stop,” I breathe out.

  He continues to mouth and lick my lips, licking and sucking each fold. As fast as he can lick my wetness, my pussy produces more. I’m bucking my hips against the arm of the couch, my clit quivering, and I’m desperate to come. With each thrust of my hip my clit brushes against the arm of the couch, heightening my desire. I’m close, yet I can’t seem to get over that hump. My pussy feels empty. Sawyer thrusts two fingers in my pussy, pumping in a steady rhythm. The only sound in the room is my soft sighs and moans. I’m so close, my hips circling, and then Sawyer pushes his thumb into my ass. I shatter instantly, coming harder than I’ve ever come.

  My pussy is throbbing and milking his fingers, and my ass is pulsing. I’m breathing heavy, my face still on the seat of the couch as I sigh happily. I hear Sawyer tear open a condom and then I can feel him, probing my entrance with his cock. He pushes into me in one swift stroke, groaning softly as he picks up speed. I feel his balls slapping against me, pushing my body and my clit into the couch. His fingers grip my hips as he slams into me, pounding in steady strokes. I groan aloud. I can feel another orgasm approaching. I can tell Sawyer is getting close too, as he is thrusting faster and faster.

  Just as I’m about to come, Sawyer again shoves the tip of his finger into my asshole, sending me over the edge in ecstasy. My entire body stiffens as I come, my legs weak from desire. I can feel my pussy pulsating as I come down from my orgasm, breathing heavily. Sawyer is right behind me with his release and he shouts out loud as he comes, his body covered in perspiration. His fingers relax their hold on my hips as he shudders behind me. He lets his softening cock slip free of my body and I moan, already missing that full feeling inside of me. He places a kiss onto the center of my back and helps me upright, pulling me in for a tight hug, and rubbing his hands up and down my back.

  “Next time we’ll make it to a bed,” he says humorously. I laugh and blush, pushing at the center of his chest. I dress myself as Sawyer heads to the bathroom to toss the condom and clean up. I hear him in the bathroom fumbling around when the doorbell rings.

  “Can you get that for me, baby,” he shouts in question down the hallway.

  “Yeah I’ll get it,” I shout back.

  I head to the front door, smiling and content. The sex has been amazing from day one, but it just keeps getting better and better… and hotter. It’s not about just the sex for me. It’s so much more than that. I click with Sawyer on every level. Conversation between us is easy and no topic is taboo, except for the fact that I haven’t told him about my past, and it’s my one regret. I don’t look through the peephole before answering the door, so I’m not prepared for who’s on the other side.

  I open the door and my mouth drops. I’m frozen in shock as my past rushes in and blasts me right in the face. Standing in front of me is Candy Abernathy, the same girl who was sleeping with Mr. Avery and the same girl who taped my rape and then posted it for the entire world to see. What the hell is she doing here? How does she know Sawyer? Oh God. They can’t be sleeping with one another. I wouldn’t come back from that. I feel sick. My hands are clammy and my breathing is out of control. Everything feels like it’s going fuzzy and I hear buzzing in my ears, my body shaking in fear. This woman represents so much pain and sorrow in my life. I can barely look at her. She still carries the same evil smirk.

  “Oh Christ. This is fucking hilarious,” she spits out. It’s like everyone else has grown up, but she’s still the same girl from high school, not having evolved or matured in any way. Regardless, she is using her hatred of me for her gain as she continues on her tirade. “Look who it is. None other than little miss pathetic,” she says sarcastically. “One brother wasn’t enough, so now you’ve moved on to Sawyer.”

  She laughs at the look of confusion on my face. “You don’t know, do you?” She asks, her voice reflecting her disbelief. “They’re brothers. Did you not connect their last name?” She’s laughing so hard tears are running down her face. “This is priceless. You don’t know his last name, do you? You would think that you had learned your lesson. You didn’t learn Mr. Avery’s first name, and now you don’t know Sawyer’s last name. You’re such a freak,” she finishes, staring at me as if I have ten heads.

  She is snickering at me as she slaps me with all of this information. She just keeps tormenting me, and I stand here like an idiot, frozen to this spot, and unable to defend myself or respond in any way. I may as well bend over and ask her to shove the stick even further into my ass, or have her yank really hard and remove it entirely, but do you think I can even do that? Nope. The Italian food I’ve eaten feels like it may come up, and all over her shoes. I need to hold it together. I can’t humiliate myself further by vomiting on her, but clearly she isn’t done yet.

  “Does he know about your little sordid past,” she asks mockingly
.

  She is so gleeful in her spite and hatred towards me. Her mean and hateful face aglow, because she is causing another human some pain. I still haven’t spoken, moved, or responded to her in any way, and still she has more to spit at me.

  “He might not have known before, but you can bet that he’ll know now,” she says, sneering at me. “Because I’m going to tell him every sick detail and he isn’t going to want you when he finds out how filthy and disgusting you are. All you’ll ever be is stupid and naïve,” she finishes, with spit flying out of her mouth. I’m rooted to this spot, my face wet with my tears as she puts the final nail into my coffin. “Aww…. Are you sad? Say good-bye to the life you know, because it’s over…again.”

  I can hear Sawyer heading up the hallway towards the door. I need to get out of here, because I can’t face him. I can’t face this. Not now, not like this. My heart feels like stone inside of my chest and I experience a tearing sensation. I’m broken, and I’m not sure I’ll ever heal again. I turn to Sawyer. “Who is it, baby?”

  I don’t have a chance to answer him, because he’s at my side in seconds. He takes one look at my crying face and he knows that something is very wrong. I need to get out of here. I can’t face him anymore. I can’t live without him, but I need to let him go. My heart is tearing itself from my chest, knowing that this is the last I’ll see of Sawyer. I look at him and lie through my teeth. “I’ve got a horrible headache, likely from the wine. It started out of nowhere. I really need to head home and lie down,” I say, grabbing my purse. Candy watches our exchange with a huge grin on her face. Sawyer grabs at my arm when I’m ready to bolt. “Wait, you don’t even have a car here,” he says.

  “It’s ok,” I tell him quietly. “I need some fresh air.”

  He holds my arms, looking into my face, “Let me drive you home so I’ll know you got there safe and sound.”

  “No,” I say shaking my head. “Please don’t argue with me. A cab will take me right to the door and I’ll be fine.” Candy is leaning against the wall, smirking the entire time. I’m not a violent person, but I desperately want to slap that smirk right off of her smug face. Sawyer finally relents, giving me a kiss on my forehead. He knows something is dreadfully wrong, and right now he is blissfully ignorant, but that won’t last long. I’m sick to know that by the end of the evening Sawyer will regret ever knowing me.

  I can’t turn my head off. How does he know Candy? I’m upset and disappointed that within an hour or so he will know everything about my dirty and disgusting past. My stomach tightens and I barely make it out the front door before I vomit on his lawn.

  Oh God, my humiliation is complete.

  I empty the contents of my stomach, crying the entire time. I see the cab pulling up the drive. I quickly dig in my purse for a tissue and sprint for the cab, throwing myself in the back. I give the cabbie my address and he takes off. I don’t even look back. What’s the point? I can’t look at his face, because it will kill me. I want to see Candy’s face either.

  She’s ruined my life once before, and now she’s back to do it again.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Sawyer

  I don’t know what just happened. Cherry tore out of here and her face was absent of all color, her eyes a different shade of blue. My gut is tight as I watch her vomit in the middle of my front lawn. My heart is breaking for her. She’s hiding something from me and I think it’s all come to a head.

  I look to Candy, my brother’s ex, and see the hateful grin on her face. I quirk my eyebrow and she just shrugs. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know anything.” I’m not buying her little ploy of innocence. This girl is truly not all there. She seems crazy, literally. I shudder at the sight of her. She’s pure evil.

  “Take your shit and get out.” I spit out while shoving a box into her hands. I shove it so hard that she falls backwards against the doorjamb and looks at me angrily.

  “Chill out,” she purrs, eyeing me up and down.

  What the fuck? She’s fucked up. I run my hands through my hair, giving a sharp tug in exasperation. I want her the fuck out of here. Now.

  “Just take your stuff and go.” I hold the door open and wave her on through, hoping she’ll catch on and just go.

  “Whatever,” she sighs out dramatically. “If you prefer to be with dirty little sluts then that’s your business.”

  “Get out,” I bark out, giving her another not too subtle nudge out the door. She leaves, but not before looking over her shoulder at me and giving me a wink.

  I’m physically revolted by her and her actions. I’m glad to see the last of her. I don’t know what I should do about Cherry. I’m exhausted and I feel like I’ve run a marathon. My body is physically fatigued.

  “Fuck,” I shout as I punch the wall. Are all women crazy? Fuck me, but I don’t have time for this shit. I sit on the edge of the couch cushion gripping my hair tightly in my hands. What do I do?

  “Fuck this shit,” I say to no one in particular and get up to grab my wallet and keys. Maybe Dad will have some advice for me. I shut the door behind me, lock up, and jog to my bike sitting in the drive. I pull my helmet over my head and adjust my sunglasses. Throwing my leg over the bike and starting it, I pull into traffic, relieved to feel like I’m doing something. My thoughts are in turmoil as I make the drive to my parents place. I pull up and park, barely having my helmet off, noting Mom has the front door open and she’s leaning against the door with a worried expression on her face.

  “Come, tell me all about it,” she says with a small smile. I follow her into the house and through to the den. I watch as she pours me two fingers of scotch over ice, handing me the crystal tumbler. She pours herself a wine spritzer and makes a scotch for my dad as well. I sit on their couch with a sigh and take a healthy sip of my drink, relishing the burn as it slides down my throat.

  “I don’t even know what to tell you,” I say quietly. “I’m utterly confused.” At those words Mom lets out a small laugh.

  “That’s a good sign, Son,” she says with a smile. “We need to keep the mystery.” I shake my head from side to side.

  “Too much mystery can’t be good.” At my words my mom’s brows furrow. I go on to explain what happened and what little I know, including my gut feeling that someone has hurt Cherry terribly. Mom has tears welling in her eyes and I watch as she takes a tissue from the box sitting on the end table and dabs daintily at her eyes.

  “Do you love her?” I look my mom right in her eyes and I put into words what I should have said to Cherry.

  “With all my heart,” I say with conviction and realize that it’s true. She holds my heart and has for some time.

  “Then go to her and tell her how you feel. If there is open communication the two of you can conquer anything together.” I look at my mom and nod my head, agreeing with her.

  I look at Dad who is shaking his head, so I look to him in question. “You need to give her some time,” he says firmly. “I speak from experience, and being with your mom for almost twenty-eight years, I know that women need time first. Then, you go to her and share your feelings.”

  Mom looks at Dad with a smile on her face. He reaches for her hand and pulls it up to his mouth, giving her a kiss on the knuckles. I watch as a pretty blush creeps up Mom’s face, and I feel like I’m an intruder on their very private and intimate moment.

  “Well on that note,” I say, clearing my throat. “I guess I’ll be going.” I throw back the rest of my scotch and place my glass on the coffee table, standing and grabbing my helmet. I walk to mom and lean forward, giving her a kiss on the cheek, and hold my hand out to shake Dad’s hand

  “Thanks for listening, and for the advice.” Mom leans into Dad as he throws his arm around her shoulders, giving her a little squeeze. I smile as I head down their front walkway and make my way towards my bike.

  I’m deep in thought as I drive back home, deciding Dad is right. I need to give her some time first. If Cherry’s face was any indication, then
whatever secrets she is keeping could destroy us if they haven’t already.

  I sigh loudly as I slump down on my couch. I feel defeated, like I’ve lost something, but maybe it’s something I never had in the first place, and that thought makes me feel physically sick.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Cherry

  I get home and strip out of all my clothes, dumping them into the laundry as I go, my entire body shaking in anger and frustration. I’m crying loudly at this point, lamenting my fate and admitting defeat. Life just never seems to go my way. I can’t win. My mind is churning, digging up old memories that are best forgotten, but I can’t get Candy’s gloating face out of my mind. Ugh. Every time I picture her, I picture her as she was that last day, holding her cellphone and filming my humiliation, her grin like a Cheshire cat, wide and sneering.

  I head to the bathroom and turn the taps on the shower. I’m shivering, I think I’m going into shock, but the hot water should help. Once I step under the spray, I let the emotions come heaving out of me in big gusts. My shoulders are shaking, and I’m sobbing out loud. My hands are in fists and I hit myself in the thighs repeatedly, roaring out my anger and frustration. “Why me!”

  It just isn’t fair. Just as I’m starting to live my life, to trust again and now I’ve lost it all. I decide I’ve had enough of the shower and dry off before I fall into bed, shuddering. My eyes are dry at this point and I don’t think there is a tear left inside my body. I stare, not blinking at my wall. I can feel my cell phone buzzing, but I don’t want to see it or hear it. I’m not ready to face what’s undoubtedly waiting for me.

  I can’t stop thinking about what Candy said. They’re brothers. Why didn’t I see it before? Why didn’t I connect the dots, and how does he know her? The questions keep swirling through my head, tormenting me. My stomach is tight, and I am nauseated, but it’s empty. I lie there and wonder what Sawyer must be thinking about right now.