“How did you get out of there?” she asks, noticing her tears and swiftly brushing the remainder away.
“In junior high I had to start changing into athletic clothes for PE, which meant no more long-sleeve shirts every day. One of my teachers saw the fresh burns and called social services. Relatives all stepped up and we all were shipped to different people. My grandmother couldn’t handle taking care of the little ones so I went with her. I was thirteen and could pretty much take care of myself.”
“So your dad went to jail then,” she states matter-of-fact, and you would think it would be the safe assumption.
“No.”
Her eyebrows pinch together, irritation and anger spread across her face.
“My mother didn’t want to press charges and none of the kids were willing to testify. As long as the kids were no longer in the home with my father, they didn’t pursue it further.”
“That is not okay,” she insists and I agree. There were no consequences; it was like I endured it all for nothing. I just had to hope life would eventually catch up to him. It eventually did.
“He got what was coming to him, it just took a while. Mom died of an overdose about a year after we all were separated. My dad fell off the deep end after that. He got himself into some bad gambling debts, and well, he double-crossed the wrong person. He disappeared and we never heard from him again, but we all knew what probably happened.”
My eyes have drifted back to the flames. I’m not ready yet to see the look on Jen’s face after hearing my story. Then I feel her hands once again on my arm and move across one of my scars. She brings my arm to her mouth and kisses the damaged skin. The simple act makes all the fear I had been holding onto diminish. She doesn’t need to say anything. I know she accepts me, and I’ve never been more grateful.
We both smile and enjoy a brief moment of peace. I notice her shiver, and I stand to retrieve a blanket from the camper. A now sleeping Henri doesn’t even flinch with my movements. Jen, though, looks at me questioningly.
“Stay put, I’ll be right back.” I grab the warmest, softest blanket I can find and wrap it around her when I return to our campfire. The embers are starting to burn down, so I add another log to the fire and stir it around to get it going again.
“I believe you owe me a story now, my dear,” I tell her, as I settle down next to her once again.
She snuggles down into the red, fleece blanket and turns her body into mine. “Just any story, or do you have something in mind?” she asks.
“I have something I want to know about, but I’m not sure how you’ll feel about telling me.”
Jen looks both nervous and confused. She’s not sure where this is going, I don’t either, but my curiosity to ask is too tempting. As horrible as last night’s attack was, I don’t think it was the cause for Jen’s restless sleep. I can’t help but dig into whatever it is which plagued her dreams. There is something else below the surface, and I feel like I need to know what it is in order to protect her, to have access to her guarded heart.
“While you were asleep last night, I kept checking on you,” I begin to explain. Her left brow raises in concern and I shift gears momentarily. “Not in a creepy stalker way. You had me worried, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I had a horrible night, Casen. Did you expect me to have a glorious sleep and fairytale dreams?” she asks sarcastically, now on the defensive.
“No, but what I saw was something entirely different. The events of last night triggered something for you, something you’ve buried. I want to know that story.”
“There’s no story there,” she states confidently, although her actions suggest otherwise. She will no longer look me in the eyes and her body has moved away from me, allowing an undesired space between us.
“Please don’t lie to me, Jen. I offered complete honesty, even though the truth is terrifying as hell for me. Please don’t play that game with me.”
She still refuses to look at me, but instead of retreating and letting her disengage, I push harder. “Who is Preston? You kept shouting his name in your sleep.”
Her head whips around quickly in my direction to look at me, her eyes wide. Even with the overwhelming warmth of the blanket and the fire to rosy her flesh, all color drains from her face. “What did you say?” she mutters, so low I can barely hear her.
“Preston? Is he a boyfriend, someone who hurt you, someone you lost? He means something to you, I just want to know in what way.” I try to ease my tone, as I don’t know if this person is a good something or bad something. Either way, I feel like I need to know this if I’m ever going to really know her.
“He’s someone I wish I could forget, someone I wish I had never met,” she says through gritted teeth.
“So he’s a past tense?” I ask, searching for a little clarification.
“I haven’t seen him in years, but what he did fucked up so much of my life, every day I battle to forget.” Her lips begin to tremble, but instead of the sadness one would expect, hers is a tremble of anger.
“What happened, Jen?” I say smoothly, moving closer to her and grabbing her hand like she had previously done for me.
“He stole everything from me.” Her anger flares once again. “I lost my family, my friends, and for a long time, my sanity. He’s not someone I care to remember. His name is a reminder of the innocence I lost.”
“Please let me in,” I plead. This is her story and I won’t force her to share it, but I want to be the one who gets past this barrier, this gate which has locked the real Jen away.
She takes a deep breath, and looks away from me as she begins her story. I understand the feeling; this memory is as harmful to her soul as my memories are to mine.
“It was the summer before my senior year of high school. I was so excited to be finishing up and heading off to college. I was a good kid. I never stayed out past curfew, never would have been caught in the back of some guy’s car, I didn’t drink. My father demanded perfection, and I made sure to live up to those expectations. When the most popular guy in school asked me to go to a party, it was a given that I would accept his invitation. I was so excited, my best friend Amber, or at least I thought she was my best friend, was excited for me even though I knew she really liked him. All the girls did.”
I feel my body overheat as I recognize the direction of this story, but I try to hide my anger and disdain for this asshole who broke her.
“What did he do?” I ask as controlled as possible.
“I have no real memory of it. The doctor my aunt took me to said more than likely I’d been drugged. The only people who filled my cup that night was Preston and Amber, so you do the math. I woke up the next morning in my car with torn clothing and a horrible headache. It wasn’t until a few weeks later when I truly understood what happened to me.”
I squeeze her hand, willing her to continue. “What really happened?”
“My father was sent photographs. Horrible pictures,” she mumbles, looking away and brushing a tear from her cheek. It takes her several moments to collect herself enough to continue on. I don’t push, I don’t encourage. I just wait. She needs to tell her story in her own time, without me forcing any more of it out of her.
“I was a good kid, Casen,” she finally says. The sadness dripping from her words weaves into my soul. I can’t help but want to rip out my own heart to give it to her, just to erase this pain of hers. “Those pictures changed everything. The guys’ faces weren’t in the shots, it was only me who could be seen. They had me laid out naked on a kitchen table, doing unimaginable things.”
“Did your parents call the police and press charges?” It seems like a no-brainer type of question, but judging from her reaction to the attack at the concert, there is no simple answer with her.
“It was an election year, and the pictures were meant to scare my father away from campaigning. Instead, my father called in some favors and swept it under the rug. That also meant I needed to disappear.”
All emotion has drained from her as she recounts the rest of the story as if she’s detached herself from it. I can relate. Retell without reliving, it’s how I survived for a long time, but it doesn’t heal anything. She’s avoided dealing with her parents. Just like the other night, she ran.
“Disappear?” I ask.
“I went to live with my aunt to be homeschooled my senior year and then went to college at CSU. My parents pretended like it didn’t happen. Even when I tried to explain, they didn’t believe anything illegal had happened to me. The only one who believed me was my Aunt Maggie. She’s the only one who really cared about me. But you know what? I learned a lot about who I can depend on, and what loyalty means. Now you know why I’m such a bitch. I’d rather be safe than sorry.” She shrugs like the story she just shared is not some big deal. She’s distancing herself again, and it blows my freakin’ mind.
“Hold on here. First of all, you’re not a bitch. Difficult yes, but not a bitch. Second, Preston was one of the guys, but nothing ever happened to him? How is that okay by any stretch of the imagination? Just like the fucker from Friday night, he should be in jail.” I stand from the log and pace in front of her. Henry takes notice and follows me in my continued stride. My pissed level is skyrocketing. I hate that she was hurt, but her acceptance of the lack of consequences takes my anger to a new level of rage. The system doesn’t always work, but I think you have to give it a chance.
“It’s not fucking okay, Casen!” she shouts, jumping up from the log, stopping me mid-pace. “I was a teenager, what was I supposed to do? I don’t have any memory of what happened. I’ve always blamed Preston because he brought me drinks and I was in his care, so I figured he and Amber were the ones who arranged it. This is something I’ve tried to forget about, to move past, and you’re asking me to jump right back into the pile of shit which was my adolescence. No thanks.”
The heat of her anger radiates off her. More than ever, I want to tuck her into my arms and never let her go. I want to make her feel safe, make her feel loved; I want to fill the void, which I now know is there.
“I just want you to feel safe,” I shout back, moving within inches of her. “I want you to know you aren’t alone.”
Silence hangs in the air, the sound of our breathing is all that is noticeable. Before she can reject me, I twist my fingers into her sweatshirt and pull her even closer. “I want you to know you’re wanted. You’re worth it.”
I’m hesitant for a moment, but when I see her eyes bounce to my lips and then to my eyes again, I take it as an invitation to proceed. With as much conviction as I can, I smash my mouth onto her lips. They are as soft as I remember, but now there are remnants of salt from her tears. She opens her mouth, allowing me to explore her more fully. I grasp onto her tightly and let myself get lost in the damaged beauty of this woman.
I lift her tiny body off the ground and her hands immediately wrap around my neck as her fingers crawl into my hair. The sensation of her hands on my body electrifies me, but my mind soon takes over and I know I can’t let it go any farther. This is the most inappropriate thing in the world to be doing after everything she told me. Letting it go past this kiss will make me no better than those other guys.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” I say, dropping her back down to the ground and stepping away. Tears begin to build in her eyes. She looks confused and rejected, and I want nothing more than to get away from that look.
I step closer once more, placing my hands on either side of her face and letting my forehead rest upon hers. “I want you, Jen. More than anything, I want you to be mine. But not like this.” I kiss her forehead and walk away toward the trail, which surrounds the campsite.
Walking away takes every bit of willpower I have, but I refuse to be some guy she would add to the list of douchebags who took advantage of her. I don’t want to be a guy she was with one random weekend. I want to be the guy she’s with forever.
Jen
Casen has been gone for hours, but I can still feel the tingle on my lips from his kiss. I kiss guys all the time. Wait, that sounds slutty. I’ve kissed many guys in my adult life, and never have any of them made me feel the way Casen does. A single touch from him can make every ounce of my body vibrate with anticipation.
I had hoped he would let his resolve down for just another moment to allow us to explore the flirtation we had been dancing around for months. Instead of staying put and kissing me like I wish he would have, he walked away from me, panting and restraining himself.
Henri has been my companion in the camper. The lug is starting to grow on me. I’ve been tossing and turning, but when I hear the sound of a guitar outside I’m roused from the surprisingly soft bed. I don’t find it as comfortable as it should be without Casen in it with me. I never thought I would admit to wanting a man to stay the night with me in an emotional rather than sexual capacity. Yet, here I am, yearning for Casen in any way I can get him.
I wrap myself in the same fleece blanket from our campfire chat and follow the sound of Casen’s guitar. Quickly closing the door behind me as not to let Hendrix out, I sneak down the steps in a stealth-like manner, which would rival Mission Impossible. Now wearing a grey beanie to keep warm, Casen is sitting on the same log where we had shared our most guarded secrets hours earlier. His eyes are closed, lightly gripping onto his acoustic guitar. It’s the most beautiful sight; it’s like he is the music, the guitar is an extension of his body. This man was born to do this.
It takes a moment to decipher the song he’s playing. “Moonlight Sonata” is one of the most recognizable songs, but I’ve never heard it played on the guitar. I’ve always loved the song; its melancholy rhythm always spoke to me. It had seeped into my soul, like it was written just for me. This version, while different, is mesmerizing.
I don’t want him to notice me and stop playing, so I stand as still as possible at the bottom of the stairs and listen. Closing my eyes, I let the sound envelop me, losing myself in the melody. All time is lost until I hear Casen’s voice boom over the music and my eyes slide open.
“You should be sleeping,” he says, propping his guitar against the log.
“I couldn’t. I was lonely.” I move closer to him. “That was beautiful,” I add, pointing to his instrument.
“I needed to clear my head. Sorry I disturbed you.”
“No, not at all,” I cut him off. “I needed to hear that song tonight. I just wish you would have played it for me in there,” I say suggestively, nodding in the direction of the camper. My bravery momentarily shines through as I add the last line, realizing the words may be the biggest risk of my life. I’ve never been more afraid of rejection than I am right now standing in front of Casen.
He rubs his hands up and down his face and then takes his beanie off and runs his fingers through his soft, messy hair. “Please don’t tempt me, Jen,” he whispers, focusing his eyes on the beanie he’s now weaving through his fingers. “It’s taking every bit of willpower I have not to carry you into that camper and do all the things I hoped of doing since I had my first taste of you.”
I close the distance between us and take his chin in my hand, forcing his eyes to meet mine. “I know you think being with me right now would put you in the same category as every other guy who has hurt me, used me.” I take his hand in mine, lacing our finger together. “You need to understand, though, you’re not taking anything I don’t want to give you.”
Casen delicately kisses the back of my hand and then rests my hand against his cheek. “If we take this step, there’s no going back for me. I want something real, something that is just me and you. Is that something you can give me?”
“I admit I’ve never had that before. Honestly, I had never met a man I wanted for longer than a night. You’re different, Casen. With you, I wouldn’t want anything less than everything.”
I drop my hand from his and wrap the oversized blanket around both of us. All reservations he has fade from his face, and
a smile, which clenches my heart, replaces the apprehension. As soon as I smile back, Casen stands and lifts me in the air to carry me back to the camper. There are no more words, just his lips on mine. I wrap my legs around his strong core and hold on to this gorgeous man.
He moves quickly as if he’s afraid if he takes too much time one of us might change our mind. As soon as we’re inside the camper and in the bedroom, we break apart only long enough to chase Henri out of the room. Casen sprawls me out on top of the fluffy duvet, taking a second to stare down at me. Only in a Broncos T-shirt and panties, I would think I would feel self-conscience about Casen perusing my body with his eyes like this, but I don’t. I feel beautiful. No more hiding, no more avoiding my past. I thought he would run when he found out, but he knows my secret and still wants me.
Casen slides out of his shoes and crawls up the bed, eventually caging me in with his solid arms. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?” he murmurs as he hovers over me.
I reach up, placing my hands on both sides of his face. “Show me,” I whisper.
He offers no verbal response, only actions. His lips, his hands travel every inch, conquering and devouring my body…my heart…my soul.
I hastily strip off his clothes like a child with a present on Christmas morning, rushed and frenzied. He complies with my feverish demands, but once he’s undressed he grasps my wrists and places them above my head.
“Shh,” he says, burying his face into my neck. “I’m not going anywhere.” He licks and kisses down my neck while his hands move slowly under my shirt. After sliding it over my head, he begins making his way to my panties. Landing soft kisses along the waistband, his hands slowly slip the thin fabric down my legs, provoking a wave of chills across my body.
I’ve never made love. The slow, tender, passionate act is not something I’ve had and I look to Casen for direction. Rough, fast, and lacking all emotion other than lust is what I’m used to. I typically dominate and take what I want. To submit to Casen, to open my Pandora’s Box of emotions is frightening.
Lead Him Not Into Temptation (Redemption Book 2) Page 9