Redefining Us: A Reclusive Novel

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Redefining Us: A Reclusive Novel Page 7

by Harloe Rae

“Please, Xander. You think so poorly of yourself but I know you. Deep down you’re still the boy I used to know. We just have to find him. Let me help you.” I squeeze his palm for emphasis.

  Even though Xander is apprehensive, I am looking forward to what lies ahead.

  His furrowed brow and gritted teeth reveal he’s wavering. “I’m having a difficult time saying no, even though I can predict the fucking destruction. If you really want to hang around longer, I won’t deny you. I’ve already warned you plenty of times.” Xander rubs his fingers across his drooping eyes before coming to a decision.

  “Lead the way,” he tells me while sweeping his arm in the direction of the open door.

  * * *

  What the fuck is happening?

  That incessant question keeps badgering me and I don’t have a fucking clue how to answer. All I know is Willow is in my house, cleaning up my mess, and seems really pleased about it.

  When we first came back in, Willow moved about my house like she’s lived here for years. She knows where everything goes, without having to ask, as she flits around the small rooms. Willow made herself comfortable with ease and fits right into my space.

  She had another outfit in her car so she changed out of her ruined clothes. She looks all put back together and orderly. I don’t like it. I preferred the disheveled, freshly fucked looked so I want to shred every stitch covering her.

  Since Willow touched me earlier, the darkness has left me alone and the panic has stayed away. Now I’m fucked up for a totally different reason and she’s currently smiling at me from the kitchen. I completely isolated myself out here for damn good reasons but I am having a tough time thinking of them with her beaming at me.

  Willow has my full attention but maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. I’ve only had myself to rely on lately and had been getting along in my own way. I’d been adamant that I didn’t need help or support from anyone but the thought of her leaving makes my gut clench. I should be pissed as shit that I am already affected by her again. On some level I am angry that I can’t seem to turn her away, but the calming sensation she gives me outweighs the fury.

  My mind is clogged with the overwhelming confusion I’m dealing with. After having sex with Willow, I freaked the fuck out. My younger self would be ashamed of how I treated her. I used to obsess over how perfect it would be when we finally slept together. I was such a fucking dreamer. Look at how great all that fantasizing turned out.

  Fucking terrible.

  I don’t care what Willow says, there’s no way what I did to her was what she really wanted. I should have been gentle and sweet. I could have taken more time to prepare her. There was always so much I wanted to do but I’m not that type of man anymore. All I’m good for is rough, dirty, and harsh. Willow deserves much better than any pathetic shit I can provide.

  The fact we were friends before makes this situation even more despicable. She is a romance junkie and loves to be spoiled, which I’ve known since we were kids. I can’t give her what she’s always dreamed up for her happily ever after. Not even fucking close. Willow believes we can rebuild our bond but I’ve never screwed one of my pals before. I won’t be able to remove those sexy as fuck memories we just created. Even if we go back to just being friends.

  Considering going back to strictly platonic with Willow has me grinding my teeth. A moment ago I didn’t think I could stand having her in my space and now I want to fuck her again? I need to get a fucking grip.

  Willow starts humming and it brings me back to my current surroundings. Why is she so happy cleaning my house? I can’t concentrate for shit but she appears to be perfectly content and pleased beyond belief. I can’t bite my tongue any longer.

  “Willow?” I begin the conversation by stealing her focus. Once she turns to face me, I dive right in. “What the fuck is happening?” I decide to just ask the question that has been circling my mind for the last thirty minutes.

  She startles slightly from my blunt approach but responds smoothly as if she was prepared for it. “I thought we made it pretty clear before coming back in here. I’m helping tidy up the wreck you created. Is that still alright?” Her question seems innocent enough but I remember how sharp she is. There is always a deeper meaning hiding beneath the surface with her.

  “You know I wasn’t that willing to let you stay at first but yes, I’m fine with it. What I meant was what is happening between us? What is going on? You are sweeping around the room like all is well while I sit here extremely fucking irritated. I’m not trying to be an asshole but I can’t take the confusion piled on top of all the other shit I’m already dealing with.” The aggravation and frustration are starting to take over. I can’t allow her to watch me crash into the abyss.

  I take a deep breath before continuing. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Willow. I’m not used to having conversations anymore. I’m totally out of my element and I don’t fucking like it.”

  She keeps quietly assessing me with her emerald gaze, which unnerves me further. My sanity slips farther away and the edges of my vision start to blur.

  Shit, shit shit . . .

  I jerk slightly when I feel her soft hand cover my tightened fist before slipping around my wrist. The sweet serenity creeps in and chases the darkness away. Willow’s effect on me still freaks me out, and I have no idea how to explain it, but I am relieved the panic has subsided.

  For now.

  The concern etched on her features is genuine and I consider that Willow might still care about me. I don’t know how or understand why but maybe I can rely on her slightly. I wouldn’t have to be totally detached anymore. I could try spending time with her and attempt getting to know each other again.

  The fear of being vulnerable is at the forefront of my mind as I contemplate my options. The choices seem extremely limited as I stare at the beautiful woman in front of me. If she wants to be present in my fucked up life, I can’t stop her and I don’t want to either.

  The silence between us has stretched on far too long to be comfortable but it doesn’t seem to bother Willow. I want to know what she’s thinking but am too afraid to ask. I get trapped in the gold flecks accenting her green irises and lose my train of thought. For a stupid moment, I feel like the horny teenager that used to gobble up any scrap of attention Willow would toss my way. I groan loudly at the nonstop chaos in my mind.

  I need some space. I can’t continue with this ludicrous train of thought. As I begin to mentally and physically distance myself from Willow, she breaks our muted standoff.

  “There is so much going on up there. I can almost see the gears turning. Can’t we just be still for a little while?” She taps my temple while speaking.

  I try to explain some of my madness. “Earlier you said we were talking in circles but that’s what I always feel like. I can’t seem to make sense of anything, which bothers the shit out of me. Trying to figure out what you’re thinking is stretching me even further. I’m going for a walk, alright? Just to quiet some of the turmoil.” My voice is low as I back farther away from her. When her arm is fully extended and about to drop due to the distance between us, Willow stops me.

  “Xander, wait. Why don’t you ask me what you’re wondering?” She pulls me back toward her and I’m unsure how to react.

  I decide to swallow my bullshit and go for it.

  “What were you thinking about, Willow? What is causing that questioning look to cover your face?” My eyes sweep over her as I anxiously await her response.

  Why is her answer so damn important? I don’t know why I care so fucking much but I can’t seem to control my impulses where Willow is concerned.

  She leans into my personal space so she can whisper close to my ear, “I want you to kiss me.”

  * * *

  Boldness thrums through me as those simple words leave my lips. I have no clue where I got the courage to let my desires surface but I love it. Xander isn’t the only one being impacted by our connection. He makes me want to be risky, brave, and strong. The
blistering heat behind his stare proves his attraction and I’m done waiting. I’m ready to take on anything.

  I’ve let go of my insecurities and now it’s his turn. Xander has to be in control of what happens next. I need to know he wants it too. I’ve discovered Xander’s way of coping is a quick getaway but I won’t let him go without a fight. Based on his tense posture and the restless shuffling of his feet, I know Xander wants to dodge this confrontation. His nerves are tangible with each fidget and tremble of his arms.

  We have so much to talk about but those conversations need to be a team effort. Xander is clearly not ready. Fooling around will further confuse our situation but it seems like the easiest way to engage with him at this point. I’m not going to complain.

  My irresponsible behavior is dangerous for my delicate heart but self-preservation has always been a weakness of mine. I won’t deny the physical pull my body has to Xander and the compulsion to have his plump lips covering mine. I cannot stay away from this man, no matter what it costs me. It seems borderline obsessive, this driving need I have, but all I want is to bring him back from the darkness. If all this leads to helping Xander, it will be worth anything I have to give. My love for this man is overpowering.

  When I step back to gauge his reaction, I shiver at the expression on his face. His chiseled jaw is taut, his nostrils flare with his uneasy breathing, but it’s his eyes that give away the depth of his feelings. The vivid blue is smoldering and setting fire to my core.

  Without a word, Xander slowly shifts closer to me. His glance bounces around my features but mainly focuses on my slight pout. The anticipation of watching him move toward me inch by inch has my impatience skyrocketing. I want to close the distance hovering between us badly, but I wait.

  He makes me feel so beautiful in his unique way. The little signals, like the flare of his nostrils and the barely-there tint to his cheeks, cause my heart to flutter. Xander’s teeth grind together as his fists clench, as though he has to force himself to hold back. The very obvious bulge at his groin has my insides practically melting.

  Xander’s beard scratches my cheek as he brushes against me. I can tell he is wound tight by the bunch of his corded muscle where I’m still gripping his arm. My lids flutter closed when his mouth lightly dusts the edge of my lips. I remain completely still while he continues giving me soft pecks before covering my mouth completely with his.

  Within those first few moments, our lips are simply pressed together but my mind is already fuzzy with arousal. This gentle touch from him is incredible. Xander starts gliding his mouth over mine, as if testing our connection. Then he angles his head a smidge before sucking on my bottom lip. My stomach twists in stunned somersaults as the overwhelming sensations flood my system all at once.

  A moan rumbles in my throat and the sound seems to snap the ties holding Xander back. His hand spears into my hair and pulls my mouth impossibly closer. His tongue slides along the seam of my lips before I eagerly open my mouth. There is a battle of power as we attack each other and get wrapped up in a tornado of lust. The silky push and the sucking pull are driving me wild. I had no idea kissing could feel so freaking amazing.

  My arms are wound around Xander’s huge shoulders so I’m able to feel the tension seep out of his body. Even though he seems more relaxed, his solid form is still rock-hard beneath my wandering hands. Everywhere. The evidence of his arousal is digging into my pelvis and it matches my restless enthusiasm. I tremble at the reminder of what Xander has hidden in those pants as my panties grow damper, almost embarrassingly wet at this point. I’m getting even more turned on knowing I have such an obvious effect on him.

  His other hand runs along the bottom of my shirt before slowly easing underneath the fabric. His calloused fingertips rasp at the sensitive skin on my torso. I arch into him simply because his touch is teasing and makes my body hum with electricity. Even though Xander is showing me a softer side, there’s still a rough edge to his movements that ratchets up my excitement even more.

  Xander’s palm rubs back and forth a few times before wrapping around my hip. Then his digits are reaching into the back of my leggings to grip my butt. He yanks my body into his and grinds our hips together. This seems so familiar but his approach is more intentional than last time. It’s as though he is mapping my flesh and wants it all stamped as his. As if I could forget his presence.

  His groan vibrates in his chest and slides over me like a warm caress.

  He loves this.

  It’s obvious in every move he makes and sound he emits. Xander is worshiping me with this kiss and completely obliterating any hesitations I might have had in the back of my mind. He’s devouring me slowly and taking his time to explore. The control he’s displaying by holding back his overwhelming power shows how much he cares for me. He isn’t pressuring me to go faster or forcing his body deeper into mine.

  I feel like time has been suspended. With every slide of his tongue, I’m sucked deeper into the fog. I am totally lost in this kiss and nothing else registers.

  Seriously, why don’t adults make out more often?

  Xander growls while sucking my lip between his teeth. He gives my butt a light slap before withdrawing his hand from my pants. When we break apart, I take a deep inhale before opening my eyes. I’m embarrassingly aroused and I’m sure the flush covering my face is a dead giveaway. Xander is staring at me with a look so sincere it makes my breath hitch. I manage to clear my throat and let the words tumble out.

  “So, can I stay?” I ask in a barely there whisper, afraid of rejection for my fragile heart.

  “Yes.”

  Just yes, but that’s all I needed.

  * * *

  I’m still wound up from that fucking kiss and I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m restless, anxious, and totally on edge. I agreed to let Willow stay but I have no idea what that means. Did she mean for a few hours? A day? A week?

  All I need are more uncertainties to stress about.

  After exchanging a few tense words after I agreed to let her stay, Willow went back to cleaning. She never was good at sitting still and that obviously hasn’t changed. I suppose I’m not either since I feel like jumping out of my fucking skin. I’ll probably wear through the floorboards with all my neurotic pacing.

  I never used to be an overly emotional guy. I told it how it was and didn’t beat around the bush. I expected the same in return. I was told my brutal honesty insulted people but I didn’t understand the purpose of spewing a bunch of bullshit to spare someone’s feelings. The only thing I ever held back was love for Willow, which fucked up my life real great. I should have stuck to my typical rules and confessed years ago, to hell with any consequences.

  Apparently I don’t have a social filter but it never bothered the gorgeous girl in front of me. When Willow told me what she’d been thinking, I figured I hadn’t offended her as badly as I originally assumed. I had another opportunity to prove I wasn’t a complete savage. This time I wouldn’t fucking push it. She asked for a kiss and that’s all she was getting. I didn’t want to give her further ammunition against me if shit went sour. Considering it further, those good intentions should be tossed out the boarded up window.

  As soon as our mouths collided, it was a true test to my restraint. The temptation to fuck her again was extremely powerful but I managed to keep my shit in check. Allowing myself to grope her ass definitely didn’t hurt. I can still taste her cherry gloss on my lips and it makes me desperate for more.

  What a fucking kiss.

  Damn.

  My cock is still rock hard and replaying our kiss isn’t helping.

  Taking a walk sounds like a great plan since I didn’t get the chance earlier. The freezing weather and expansive landscape were sure to cool off my raging hormones. I move closer to the door but abruptly stop before opening it because my legs lock in place. Leaving Willow seems like an impossible task that I’m not sure I want to accomplish. I groan loudly at the pussy whipped habits that are a
lready taking over because her presence isn’t a fucking guarantee.

  “Did you say something, Xander?” Willow asks over her shoulder from where she’s folding scattered clothing near my bed.

  Just great.

  She’s probably witnessing the stupid conflict I’m having with myself.

  I try to keep the discomfort out of my voice. “I was thinking of taking a walk but maybe I should stay to finish cleaning.”

  I’m such an idiot.

  Willow is laughing as she turns to face me. “That’s a good one. I would gladly accept your help but I think I’m almost done. Maybe we could go outside together in a bit?”

  The thought of her tagging along feeds the crazy codependency rapidly forming. I’m glad she suggested it because it saves my pansy ass from having to admit stuff I’m not ready to. It’s too early for me to assume that Willow doesn’t want to be away from me either. The trauma and demons force me to believe she could never want to stay with me but I’m starting to build strength against them.

  “All right. This isn’t easy for me but I’m doing my best not to freak out. I smell like shit so maybe I should rinse off instead.” I cross my arms over my chest in a defensive move against the sudden onslaught of anxiety. I wait a moment for Willow’s response since she always has one.

  When the silence continues, I take a closer look at her since my mind is fucking spinning and assuming the worst. Willow is rarely quiet, unless she is up to something, so I’m immediately suspicious. As a blush appears on her cheeks, Willow ducks her chin in order to hide from me. Her succulent bottom lip is trapped between her teeth and her hips shift slightly. I can’t help but wonder if she’s imagining me in the shower.

  Even a fucked up guy can hope.

  I walk into the bathroom, shut the door behind me, and exhale a shaky breath. When I catch sight of the broken mirror, any lingering lust vanishes and dread slams into my gut. I can’t stand the sight of my reflection so the glass was shattered when I first moved in. I have no interest in viewing the monster I’ve become, the disturbing man that will now stare back at me. My vision starts to grow hazy as I imagine what made me this way.

 

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