by Lainey Reese
Title Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Epilogue
About the Author
EMBRACING THE FALL
Lainey Reese
Copyright © 2014 by Lainey Reese
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Note from the author:
The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations including F/M/F, BDSM elements and explicit sex scenes. It is intended for adult readers.
Cover design by: Regina Wamba, Mae I Design
Editing by: Nichole Strauss, Perfectly Publishable
Interior design by: Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable
For my sister.
Rachel, you know me better than any person on this planet. We fought like wet cats, we laughed like drunken fools and we cried together like ... well, like sisters. There will never be anyone who means to me what you do, who can fill that place in my heart; it’s yours Rach and always will be. I love you.
Special thanks to the Dom who provided me with insight and the pleasure of your experience to enhance the detail and realism in my writing … I am grateful, Sir.
October, seven years ago, Washington State University
“Oh. My. God!” Ziporah squealed as only an eighteen-year-old college freshman on date night could squeal. “Cami, you look so freakin’ hot! You are going to knock this guy’s socks off.”
Cami turned a lovely pink and smiled at her as she executed a quick turn. She was dressed in a white linen dress that sported a delicate floral pattern, fluttery cap sleeves and complimented the curvy blonde’s figure beautifully. She was soft and round in all the right places, and Ziporah, who was normally perfectly happy with her own svelte figure, allowed herself a sigh of envy. “Honestly, Cami, what I wouldn’t give for a rack like that.”
The rack in question was partially on display and flushed a becoming pink at the comment. “Wow, Z,” Cami stammered, covering her chest with hands that shook just a little. “Should I wear a sweater? Do you think it’s too low?”
Z laughed. “No, you idiot. It’s not too low, and if you try to hide under one of those god awful bulky sweaters, I swear I’m going to burn them all.”
Ziporah walked up to Cami and turned her to face the mirror they had hung on the back of the bathroom door in their dorm room. She slid her fingers through the thick honey-hued curls before resting her chin on her roomie’s shoulder. “You are stunning. You are Aphrodite and Venus and Marilyn Monroe and every other sex goddess there is. And you don’t have to hide. You’re beautiful and smart and funny, and if this guy has half a red blood cell in his body, he’s going to be on his knees and following you around like a puppy dog for the rest of his life.” Her slender tan arms wrapped around Cami from behind and gave her a big squeeze.
“Not likely,” Cami retorted. “You’ve seen him. He has a lot of girls that he dates. He’s not the settle down type.”
“Not yet he isn’t.” Z agreed. The guy was all rough and tumble sports hero, and Z knew his air of wild recklessness was part of the draw for her friend. She had quickly learned that Cami only had eyes for the boys that were a little rough around the edges. “But one date with you and he’ll be a goner for sure.”
The two had only been roommates since the end of August, right before registration. Even so, before the first box had been unpacked, they were friends. They had made an instant and deep connection that made them feel like they’d known each other their entire lives.
They were complete opposites. Ziporah was pre-law, while Cami was studying music. Cami was a soft, round, blonde from a small town and shy to the point of phobic.
Ziporah was a tall, slender, brunette raised in wealth and privilege. She had what her half Jewish grandmother had called chutzpah, and she had it in spades.
The differences in each other delighted and drew the other, and the two of them were inseparable from day one. They squabbled over little things like Z’s messiness and Cami’s need for a minimum of ten hours of sleep. They texted during their classes, took all of their meals together and never questioned the bond that they felt would last for the rest of their lives.
“I still can’t believe I’m going on a date with him. I’m so nervous, I think I’m gonna boot.” Cami’s hand fluttered to her tummy and held there.
“Don’t you dare”, Z admonished with a scowl. She knew from firsthand experience that was no empty threat. Cami’s shyness and nerves had shown themselves in just such a revolting way more than once in these last months. “You got nothing to worry about. This guy is H. O. T. and he looks at you like you were made of candy.”
Z gave her a wicked smile. “Speaking of which ... are you gonna let him have a lick? Or a bite?”
Cami’s blush got brighter and she shoved away from Z with a grunt and an exasperated smile.
“Hey, just because you’re a ho-bag, don’t try to make me one, too,” she grumbled without bite.
“At least I’m not a dried-up old spinster at only eighteen.” When Z, who had lost her virginity to the captain of the football team behind the bleachers at sixteen, the way all good cheerleaders should, found out that Cami had been so shy she’d barely let boys kiss her, she made it her mission in life to get her friend laid.
Just as Cami opened her mouth to retort, there was a knock at the door and her mouth closed with an audible pop.
Z gave Cami’s hair a final fluff and a wink to bolster her, and then turned to open the door. Mark Wahlberg stood on the other side. Not as cute as the movie star he shared the name with, but definitely cute. Blond, wavy hair. Blue eyes. A perfect melt-your-heart smile with straight white teeth, and since he was here on a wrestling scholarship, covered in muscles that made both teenaged girls’ hearts flutter.
Z cocked her hip and put a hand on it for show as she sighed, “Oh, the babies you two would make.”
“Z!” Cami turned fire engine red and smacked her nearest and dearest in the arm so hard she almost toppled over. Z laughed and rubbed her arm. “Just sayin’. Sheesh.”
Mark laughed quietly. “She doesn’t bother me, Cami. You look great.” He smiled slowly at her and sent her an equally slow wink. Z snickered as she watched the effect it had on her friend. She seemed to melt where she stood, then smoothed h
er skirt and headed toward the door. Z laughed like a loon when Cami whispered, “Maybe just one bite”, as she passed her on the way.
Twelve-thirty in the morning and Ziporah had gone beyond worried to scared. Mark had picked Cami up at six o’clock sharp. They were only going to dinner; nothing else had been planned since they both had classes the next day. Maybe she was just being a mother hen, but the Cami she knew was no night owl and wilted after ten o’clock. She also would never, under any circumstances, go all the way on a first date, no matter how cute the boy was, so the late hour was really bugging her. Z picked up her cell and sent off the fifth text of the evening.
It’s super late C. U gotta call or at least txt. Worried about you grl.
Two a.m. arrived and Ziporah was frantic. And pissed. She was going to kick the crap out of someone. Whether it was Mark or Cami had yet to be seen, but someone was getting an ass-whooping. She was just shrugging into her jacket, having no clue where she was going to go to look for them but needing to look anyway, when the door finally opened.
“It’s about fu ...” Her words tailed off in shock at the sight in front of her. Z’s mouth just hung open while her brain tried to make sense out of what she saw.
A mess of a girl stood silhouetted in the doorway. Z let out a cry when she turned on the light. Hair that had been shiny and full of bouncing curls, was muddy and hung in limp clumps. The bright and blushing face that had smiled as she walked out of this room was bloody, bruised and swollen. Her lovely dress was as muddy as her hair and looked as though it had been fed through a shredder. Even Cami’s legs were destroyed, covered in bloody scratches, skinned knees and bare, filthy feet.
All this registered in seconds, but those seconds seemed to last a lifetime for them as Z brought her horrified eyes back to meet Cami’s devastated stare.
“He hurt me, Z.”
October, five years later, New York
“Are you masturbating, Cami?” Cami flinched as her eyes flew about the room, trying desperately not to look her therapist in the eye.
“Um. Well, umm.”
“We talked about this last week. You were supposed to try. It will help you take back your sexuality. Help you claim it.”
“I know,” Cami hedged, “I tried. In the summer and spring I don’t have any trouble doing it. It’s just hard to do in the fall.” She looked out the window at the view of Central Park, with the trees clothed in bronze, gold and yellow. And hated that she hated it. “Too many memories.” Too many similarities.
Mark had been a perfect gentleman during dinner. He’d flirted just the right amount and had also spoken to her like she had a brain. He was interested in what she had to say, and that had made her love him just a little. Her looks and shyness had always made boys assume she was empty headed, so when Mark had acted as though he thought she was more than a pair of boobs and a piece of ass, she hadn’t been able to resist.
When dinner was over and he suggested the ride into the country to visit a local pumpkin patch and corn maze, she hadn’t even considered refusing. They’d driven along the winding road, leaving the city further and further behind. Cami had been quietly thrilled when Mark had reached out and gently taken her hand. He’d held it lightly and drew lazy tickling circles on her wrist with his thumb almost the entire way, and she had marveled at the riotous fall colors flashing under the street lamps.
When they arrived at the farm, Cami hadn’t noticed Mark wasn’t surprised that it was closed. No, she didn’t clue into that until later. “Where are you going?” she’d asked, “it’s closed.”
“C’mon. Let’s go through the maze any way. It’ll be fun.” She hadn’t thought twice about it when he grabbed a blanket and a flashlight from his trunk either, because he’d wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and told her, “Here, so you don’t get cold.” She’d thought he was sweet.
Then he’d led her into the corn that was two feet above her and she’d giggled as they’d zigzagged through the field, with the stars over head. The moon was so big and yellow; it seemed as though she could reach out and touch it.
She had been breathless when he stopped them. They had made it to the middle, and with the moon shining down like a magical spotlight, he’d slipped the blanket from her shoulders so it spread at their feet, and kissed her. Slow, soft and as romantic as the rest of the night had been. One kiss led to another and then another.
Then she felt him urging her down to the blanket.
Cami steeled herself and placed her hands on his shoulders. She would have preferred that he know when to stop, not push it so far that she had to put on the brakes. But, it didn’t dim his light in her eyes. It was college, and after all, he didn’t know she was a virgin. “Mark,” she murmured as she pushed a little on his shoulders. “Mark. Stop. We should go now.”
“C’mon baby,” Mark wheedled as he placed his mouth on her neck and sucked. “C’mon. You’ve been driving me crazy tonight.” His hands snaked around to her bottom and he squeezed her pelvis tight to his erection as he ground against her. “You know you want to.”
“No.” Cami pushed a little harder, her passion fading fast as he kept grinding and pumping against her. Kisses that she had found devastating in their passion just moments before, she now found revolting as she twisted her head back and forth trying to dodge his relentless tongue. “Stop it Mark!” She gave up all efforts to be nice about it and shoved at him when he started again to pull her down to the blanket. “I said no. Take me home. No.”
“C’mon. Christ. I’ll make it good. I’ll even eat you first.” This horrifying thing was said just as he stuck one hand under her skirt, past her panties and speared two blunt fingers into her untried and never before touched flesh. Cami went cold inside and wrenched out of his arms with a feral screech. She didn’t yell or hit him, she just turned and ran.
She hadn’t gotten far.
“Cami?” Dr. West said in her quiet way, “what are you thinking right now?”
“About that night. About how I wish I could go back and never go on that date.”
“But you know that isn’t possible. So, what is possible for you?”
Cami looked at the sweet and gentle doctor and wanted to kick her. Not that she ever would, it’s just that the woman was so frustrating the way she made Cami think for herself. She didn’t want to think for herself sometimes. Sometimes she wanted ... ah, hell ... she didn’t know what she wanted sometimes.
“I can focus on today. I can take the life I have and be glad in it.” Cami repeated the mantra with all the enthusiasm of a third grader reciting times tables.
Dr. West smiled and wasn’t fooled for a second. “Cami, have you ever considered exploring your sexuality?”
“Exploring how?” Cami was perplexed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you tend to hide from your own sexuality. You’ve taken on guilt and blame for what happened, almost as though you are punishing yourself for it. You turn away from anything that excites you or gives you pleasure.” Dr. West looked kind yet stern when she leaned forward and added, “You have got to stop beating yourself up for this.”
“I don’t beat myself up,” Cami protested.
“That comment about wanting to go back and not go on the date. That was a kick against you. Not him.”
Cami opened her mouth to insist it wasn’t when the doctor rushed on. “By that statement you are saying if you had done differently this wouldn’t have happened. You—not him.”
Nothing she could say to that.
“You went on a date with a handsome and charming young man who was nice to you. You kissed him under the moon and stars, and it was lovely and romantic. The rest is on him. Not you. And during the spring and summer and winter, you know this and never question it.” She stopped for a moment and let that sink in.
“It’s because the fall is dark now. From September till December, it’s always dark for me. I feel so helpless when I remember it. Weak and stupid and helpless,” Cami confesse
d with a tiny sob.
“You were not weak; he was a wrestler. You were not stupid; you were trusting. You had no reason not to trust. And the sad truth is that there was no one there to help you.” Dr. West held up her iPad and scrolled through what Cami assumed was her file. “Now, I have more on that thought, but first,” she continued, “let’s go over what you did after. After this pillar of society left you battered and bleeding in a cornfield.” Cami remembered.
She’d been in shock, so nothing felt real. Not the pain, not the endless wandering in the maze, not any of it. She’d stumbled and fumbled for hours trying to find her way out of that corn. When she finally had enough and just pushed through the walls of it, forgoing the trails, she’d eventually stumbled out into the pumpkin patch. She must have tripped a dozen times over the fat orange fruits, with their prickly green vines that shredded like sandpaper through her bare feet and ankles as she made her way to the house that sat on the edge of the field.
The poor farmer and his wife … The farmer had raced out with his shotgun, looking for Mark, while his tender-hearted wife had cried for her. She hadn’t let them call the police. It made her panic when they reached for the phone. Panic or no, they were insistent, but she managed to get them to agree to take her home to pick up Ziporah so she wouldn’t have to face this alone. Then they took both girls to the hospital from there.
“I still can’t believe he got away with it,” Cami said in a whisper.
“Again, look to yourself and what you have control over. You did everything right. You faced the police and the exams. You faced the scandal and the long drawn out court battle. You did everything you could.”
“But it wasn’t enough. He walked away.”
“What did Ziporah teach you to say?”
“Justice would rather see guilty men go free than even one innocent man go to jail.”
Cami’s skin still crawled when she thought about it. All that humiliation of the doctor’s exam and then the horror of the cross examination by the defense attorney, only to have Mark found not guilty because he claimed it was the steroids. That he had no idea that his ‘vitamins’ were actually steroids and that he’d been blindsided by ‘roid rage when she tried to run from him.