Ache for You (Trapped in Three Hill Book 1)

by Beaudet, Nancy

  He takes a step forward; I take two back.

  “I don’t deserve to live.” A million times I have said this and every single time I meant it. I’m not looking for pity, only an acknowledgement of my regret. My fucked up life choices.

  I did this, I ruined my life. I changed the stars and didn’t mean to do it. Alex should have lived.

  He should have had the chance for his first and last kiss, he should have seen the sun rise every morning, and he deserved to feel it. He was such a good kid. I loved him more than words understand, and I know that never again will I love another like that.

  “What do you deserve then?” Mal asks, he has gotten into my space without being noticed. He reaches out for me, and I fight the urge to slap him. I don’t know what will happen when I am once again touched by him. I blink and look up at him. His eyes are flat, his voice heavy and grief tinged.

  “This,” I say without an explanation, and I kiss him. I have to stand on my tip toes to reach him. My hands latch onto the back of his neck, I try to angle my mouth against his as he stiffens.

  “Cadence…”

  “No, don’t ruin it.”

  His lips are warm and rough, I know right away that his world is no safe haven. My nose pushes against his, I devour his sullen lips. Pushing and silently pleading with him to pull back for whatever I’ve taken.

  Mal stays still. His hands in raging fists at his sides. Still, I kiss him.

  I graze his bottom lip with my tongue, nipping the pink skin until he trembles. I want so badly for him to kiss me back. I pull back to look at him, his green eyes are hooded.

  “Jesus, you can really kill a girl’s confidence.” I play with him, touching his bare chest. “I thought I was good at this, that’s what all of my ex-boyfriends…” he cuts my words off and growls as if he hates the taste of them. His hot mouth pressing against my lips until I open for him.

  He moves when I move. He tastes like heaven. Whisky and something sweet and solid. It burns when I kiss him.

  I let it.

  I Like This - Mal

  I like this. I clench my fists and lean in, Cadence’s mouth is abrasive at first kiss. Her touch persistent, I lean into her.

  Letting her work at my closed lips, she’s giving me chicken kisses. The texture of her lips becomes velvet as I laugh, before I kiss her back a little bit. Opening my lips, allowing her entrance as I grab her arms, bending in half to back her up.

  Our tongues do a strange dance, all I can feel is wetness and we both laugh. She has her hands on the back of my head.

  This is awkward as all shit, pulling me even further in. She keeps giving me chicken kisses, pecking at my face with her lips.

  I grin. I want to touch her ass. I’ve always been an ass man; my fingers ache with the need of her skin. I want to reel her in, I never want to let anyone get close to me again, and I never want us to exist without the other in our strange little orbit. For right now, I just like this.

  “What are we doing?” I don’t need to ask, I’ve gotten a pretty good idea as to what we’re doing and where this is headed. My bed, with her bent over it. Yeah, I can picture that.

  “Kissing,” Cadence says.

  I feel her happiness. I don't know if I like it, I’m a bit creeped out by it. The light in her eyes? That’s not for me. I know it.

  She must have some other dreamboat locked up in that funny head. I reach up to cup her chin, tilting her head back, my thumb tracing her raw bottom lip, while my other hand strokes my way down her back, towards the curve of her ass.

  She’s fucking my mouth into oblivion. Our breathing heavy, I move my lips to her jaw, her neck, sucking and biting her pink flesh. She whimpers, waking up my dick.

  My boner is officially awakened.

  I should have let her wear that stupid dress. It would have made everything a lot more convenient. My hands trace the fabric of my pants that have stretched over her skin. I go back to bite her bottom lip before slipping my hand into the back. Hand on her ass. Flesh on flesh. I give her skin a little slap. When Cadence perks up a bit I know that she enjoyed it. She pulls back.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” she says. “That was just…”

  Awesome, sexy as all shit?

  “…ugh different?” Cadence finishes. Eyes heavy lidded.

  She kisses me again.

  It’s a closed lip kiss. We peck at each other like idiots. I slide my hand further down her ass, grabbing warm flesh. She cries against my lips and gasps. I want all of her skin.

  I drop my other hand from her chin and push down her borrowed shorts. The elastic band slaps her hips, so I rub the reddened flesh as Cadence sucks on my bottom lip. I feel like I’m eating her face, but I’m also enjoying it. My fingers are seeking her entrance.

  I find her heat, her folds hot and wet, waiting for my fingertips. I dip right in, circling her clit. Cadence moans and arches her back. I feel like she’s never been touched like this. I feel like this is strangely intimate.

  I swirl the tip of my finger against her entrance. Pushing in, Cadence silently begs for my other hand. I give right in. She spreads her thighs and pushes down on my wrist. We have barely moved an inch.

  “Say it.” I headily demand. Looking into her face and wishing that she would keep her eyes wide open.

  “Tell me the truth, as you ride my hand. Say you came over here for sex, tell me that you’re a whore and a stupid little bitch. Say that this is all you wanted. Say that you just want me out of your head. Tell me that I’m imagining the relief I feel whenever you brush against my skin.”

  I cup her warmth in the palm of my hand. She whimpers again. My pointer finger traces circles against her entrance, my thumb petting her hot skin. She’s like velvet, and she can’t seem to get enough of my hand.

  “Say it.”

  A breathy moan escapes her pink lips.

  “Say it, Cadence. Say that all that being drawn to me stuff you said was bullshit. Say that you’re just a whore looking for attention. Tell me the truth, come on baby say it, say you didn’t mean it.” My words betray my emotions. The hate I’m feeling is purely selfish.

  She tightens under my hand. Her shoulders are pulling in until we are pressed chest to chest. She’s panting, and I’m exhausted. My entire body floods with some strange emotion when she breathes into my neck, my fingers still brushing against her tender skin. Her words are a mixture of daylight tainted with darkness.

  “But I did mean it….”

  But I Did - Cadence

  I fucked Mal’s hand. I fucked a stranger’s hand, who the hell does that? Oh right, this chick. This fucked up and demented chick.

  This is one of the many moments where I wish that I was still a virgin because I know that if I were a virgin, what I expect to happen now wouldn’t be expected. Maybe if this was my first time with a man I’d have hope that it would happen again, but I know enough to know that that’s bullshit. He’s going to leave me like this, I know it. I’m not innocent or naive. I’m not an idiot.

  I look up at Mal and wait for him to remove his hand. His thumb still brushing my trembling flesh. Surely he must want to wash and sanitize it. His hand that is.

  I try not to close my eyes against all of the things that he just said. He called me a little bitch, a whore. He pleaded with me to tell him that our fading connection was only in his head, my heart squeezed at the realization that he also felt it. I sucked in a breath before letting my thoughts scatter again.

  He doesn’t want this to be more than it is. He wants to work us out of each others' subconscious. It shouldn’t upset me but it does, and he did.

  “Are you okay Cadence?” My new friend asks. He’s looking at me with such a strange tint to his evilness. His hand is still buried in my sex. He teases me with his finger prints.

  I wish for the smirk on his face to be ever present. I love the Cheshire Cat, smug look to him, as if I’m Alice and we just stumbled into Wonderland, lost and delirious. Is that what th
is is?

  But he just stares. And I stare back.

  What just happened? I need to ask; I need space away from him. I long for a second loss of contact. The heat his body gives is too much. I’m burning up with it. “Why did you do that?” my voice is breathless. Why did you touch me like you just did? Push me towards the brink of existence while I begged for it. I know before I even ask my question, the answer that he’s about to spit back. He doesn’t sound breathless.

  “Because you asked for it?”

  Did I?

  “I didn’t.” I tell him.

  Just like that his smirk is back, I blush. My sudden embarrassment warming up my face and neck, his cockiness spurs butterflies in my stomach.

  I’m humiliated. I hate this. I need distance. I crave it.

  I’m still dressed but I feel exposed and naked. He finally removes his hand. I feel hot, uncomfortable. I ache for him to touch me again.

  I suddenly hate myself for forgetting to put on underpants. I wasn’t wearing any when I showed up in that stupid dress; I’m such a slut I can’t stand it. I did come over for this. my subconscious needed it. Fuck, I hate thinking that because when my face drops, I know that Mal notices. My brain empties for fear that he can read it. He’s so God damn good with his hands; I wouldn’t be surprised if he were a magician.

  I did not just think that.

  But I did.

  “Something wrong, Cadence?” he removes himself from my tiny little bubble of a sad existence and struts back, running his hands through his messy black tresses. Fuck I want to do that.

  “Yeah, I need to change. I need to head home. I shouldn’t have done that. It was…” what it was, was awesome. Beyond my greatest expectation of a sexual experience.

  “It was odd,” I conclude and silently wait for Mal’s smug face to drop, but it doesn’t. He’s so bloody handsome that I fucking hate it. It makes me nervous and not able to look at him.

  I’m not shy. Not in the slightest. Considering I just rode his hand like a queen I should strut out of this place as if it was a mansion, but I can’t even find my tongue. My palms have started to sweat, and I feel so awkward standing here in his clothes. I feel self-conscious. When the fuck did that happen?

  Mal laughs a good old belly laugh while he opens his fridge only to scowl at its emptiness before closing it. He stops at his sink to wash his hands, smirking at me when he switches on the faucet.

  “It wasn’t odd Cadence, and you know it. It was way beyond that, but I’m not going to argue with you about it, at least not right now. I’m not going to fight with you, because I don’t have time for that.” He finishes washing his hands, and I still find myself unable to move away from him. I look down at the pants he easily slid his touch in. I do a squat to rearrange them so that I can cover up my lady business. I don’t need Mal seeing any more of it.

  “I have to finish cleaning and then I’ve got to head to the store, grab some stuff. Groceries and whatnot. You can come if you want.”

  I already came you eggnog. All over your stupid hand. “I want to come with.”

  “Good, get cleaned up.”

  Oh, I’ll get cleaned up, you moron. He finishes washing his hands for a good twenty minutes before he shakes the excess water off, spraying me with it as he reaches for a tea towel to dry his skin.

  I just watch him, just like a total drugged up love sick puppy dog/ moron. Oh yeah, that totally happened.

  No, regrets. Ha. Do you get it? God, that movie was brilliant.

  I snap the elastic on my borrowed shorts/pants (because for some reason I want to call them pants) and head upstairs to retrieve my dress. I barely get up the stairs before I’ve pulled Mal’s shirt over my head and tossed it onto his mattress.

  I hung my dress on the door to his closet because I didn’t want to wrinkle it. I unhang it, pulling it in front of my dress and glancing into the mirror at it. I love this dress, and I hate it. I hate that wearing it earns me male attention. I know that I deserve it, all of Three Hill knows my sordid past. I made sure of that when I went out to the bar on every available occasion. When I’m drunk, I like to talk about Alex, I can’t help it. It just happens.

  I decide not to pull on my dress, and instead, decide to delve further into Mal’s closet—looking for the skeletons I know he has. I push it open; it is built with the kind of doors that bend. They’re nice and wooden. I smooth my knuckles over the wood and breathe in. All I can see is shirt sleeves and darkness. I take a step in and totally know how bad this is, how mad I’m sure Mal will be at me if I get busted. This doesn’t stop me, though. I keep right on snooping. The first item I grab is a blue dress shirt with lots of creases that desperately need to be ironed out of it.

  I’ve never had the urge before but suddenly I am possessed by it. Oh crap, I have to bite my lip to stop from fulfilling that death wish. Silently wondering why my vagina is being so overactive.

  I’ve never before wanted to act like such a typical and stereotypical house wife/1950’s model citizen (woman).

  Blag. Gross. Get it out of my head!

  The next item I find is a suit, a black one, with a nice blue tie hanging loosely around it. It’s nice, but something about it fills my entire body with dread. I feel sick, and not just because of what Mal and I just did.

  I touch the sleeve of the suit jacket. It’s the kind of suit one buys from some expensive tailor and only wears it once. For a wedding or a graduation…a funeral even. I try to swallow as I think this. My brain fighting not to process it. I try to blink it all away the moment that I remember it, the service. Not Alex’s. Someone else’s. A service Mal showed up to in this suit. I don’t know how I picture it but the memories come like puzzle pieces. It was awful from beginning to end. A crap load of tears and sad music. I think that they even played some sad Disney™ music during it. Elton John’s voice is banging on my head.

  I drop the suit jacket from my grasp and try to step back, shaking my now throbbing head. What happened?

  Whose casket was that?

  I know damn well none of it belonged to Alex, so why am I remembering moments from a time I wasn’t present? I do not just remember all of it, I’m feeling it.

  “Cadence?” I hear his voice before his careful steps, I know that if I look over my shoulder I’ll find him, but I can’t do that.

  I close my eyes and turn away from him. “Yeah, I’ll be right down. Just need to pull on my dress. It’s a tight fit.”

  Why on earth did I say that? As if Mal needed to be reminded that I’m fat.

  “So don’t wear it,” he simply says, stepping towards me. His eyes are on his open closet. He reaches into it without questioning why I opened it.

  “Here. Take this.” Mal says, handing me a large white t-shirt long enough for me to wear as a dress. I grin. I can’t help it, quick to rearrange my face before Mal can notice.

  He just grunts in confusion. I kind of like that about him.

  “Change into a pair of my sweats, they won’t cling to you as much and I don’t want any other dudes seeing your ass while we’re out in public.” He pulls them off of my skin and snaps them back; I do a little “that kind of hurt, but I liked it” dance.

  Again, he just grunts in confusion. I smile like an idiot.

  I am beyond okay with Mal saying he doesn’t want anyone being able to see my ass while I’m with him. I should be beyond offended. My assets should equal only my business. He should have no say in how I dress.

  So why does he all of a sudden?

  “Hey! Wait a minute.” I pull his shirt over my head. “Why did you say that? Why do you care who looks at my ass?” My words are somewhat muffled by the fabric, but I think Mal got the most of it.

  He shrugs and even that look on him is delicious, as much as I hate to say it.

  “What?” I demand,

  He grunts again and heads downstairs. I growl and follow behind him after changing into a pair of black sweats I found on his bed.

  Somehow they fi
t.

  I have to step over meaningless items to keep from tripping and ending up on my head; his staircase is just as bad. Mal doesn’t seem to act like he notices, even if he does, he’s gotten good at descending through the chaos. I’m careful and super slow at it, holding on to the railing like I want to baby it, and rub it, which I am at the moment.

  This gets more sexual the more I think about it. I look at the back of Mal’s head and pretend that I want to kick it. He’s got such a nice head, and beautiful shoulders to match. I love hi–

  Fuck. No. I did not just think that. That did not just happen. I shake my head and attempt to sabotage any and all remnants of it. That horrible almost sentence. Yuck. Nope. I want no part in it, any of it.

  I don’t do feelings or false expectations. Romance and I are not friends. Soulmates? Fate? Fuck all of that. I don’t believe in any of it. If it’s true, I demand evidence. I just can’t see the goodness in being meant for only one person.

  What if that person ends up dead? Or you end up dead? Are you just going to claw your way out of heaven to get to them? How would you even do that? My body floods with a strange sadness but I ignore it.

  I have once again reached Mal’s kitchen.

  He stops in the middle of it to pick up his wallet. I follow him once again, like a total love sick puppy.

  He seems to accept this.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Probably just to Walmands. That’s like the only place open after six on a weekend. You know how this town is.”

  I did.

  He opened the door located in his kitchen and stepped out of it, nodding his head for me to follow his exit.