Fight for You

by Charisse Spiers

  It's rare that I take chances. Usually I stick to what I know, but I know that's gotten me nowhere. I hold out my sketchpad toward him, pressing it into his torso. He takes it from me, but he never looks down. "I don't trust many people. Consider yourself lucky. I don't like baring myself on this deep of a level willingly, because I've already had enough taken against my will. Don't make me regret this."

  He finally looks down as he grabs it in his hand. He turns for the bed and grabs his briefs from where they were dropped on the floor, pulling them on his body to cover himself. He walks back toward me and takes my hand in his. "Come with me. For once I just want to talk and enjoy the company of another person."

  That spot in my chest where a whole heart used to lie, but is now broken, starts to beat off rhythm. I push the thought away. I can't jump to any conclusions by one little sentence. There is always room for another friend. That's all this is. We're just friends with benefits.

  I let him lead me into the main area toward the sofa. He sits on one side and pulls me down beside him. I feel like I'm going to throw up. I've never let anyone see any of my personal sketches before. If it wasn't for a grade the public hasn’t seen it. This is the worst feeling in the world.

  I press my manicured nails between my teeth, nervous. I stare at the sketchpad in his hands, waiting for him to open it. I can't even look at him right now. He rubs his hand over the front cover. Being the person waiting is like being in a circle of people opening gifts. Everyone wants to tear into them as you take turns, but there is always that one damn person that wants to open each flap individually, removing the wrapping paper at a snail's pace. You're so focused on the fact that they're opening it as if they want to save the fucking paper that you want to scream and rip it out of their hands to finish. I can't stand this.

  He finally folds back the cover to reveal that first piece of paper; the one with him sketched on the front. He isn't moving. I pull my legs up to my chest and I peak a glance at his face, but all he is doing is staring at the paper. He isn't even touching his fingers over the lead. He's holding it in each hand like a frame. I have no idea what he is thinking. I hate putting myself out there like this. This is important to me and I'm terrified he is going to hate it or find it weird. Who the hell knows what is going on in his head.

  "I wasn't really planning it. I don't normally sketch people. I woke up and was going to start on my designs for class, but I don't know, it just kind of inspired me: you in that position. It's stupid-"

  "Piper..."

  I didn't even realize I was drawing circles on my knees until this very second. I turn my head. He's already looking at me. "What?"

  "Shut up."

  Okay... That wasn't the reaction I was expecting. My brows dip. My mouth opens, but then I close it. My lids are blinking repetitively. I'm not sure of how I'm supposed to respond. "Is this how you see me?"

  "Um...yeah. I did draw it. I'm not sure what you mean. Is that a trick question?"

  He leans forward and sets it on the coffee table, but leaves it open as if he wants to admire it from time to time.

  He sits back against the sofa, looking off into the distance before him. "It's beautiful."

  Two words. They are always the same words, but depending on how they are said can completely alter their meaning. The sadness behind the voice placing them together physically causes a pain inside. It's enough to evoke unwelcome emotions.

  He looks over at me. His eyes hold a fear in them. "If only he was real." I wasn't expecting that. In this moment something sparks inside. There is a transformation happening, but I won't know what until it's complete. He's harboring something deep inside. I don't know what that something is, but I have a feeling it's something that will change my life forever.

  He slips his arm behind my back and pulls me on top of him. He makes me feel tiny. I place each shin on the outside of his thighs, facing him. He looks into my eyes as he grabs the bottom hem of his shirt and pulls it up my body, removing it. "I like seeing you in my clothes, but even more than that I like seeing you without them."

  He places a hand on each side of my face, pulling me toward him. Everything is dark except for the spotlights over the fireplace mantel and the lights of the city coming through the large glass window, like in the bedroom, that takes up the entire upper half of the wall. I don't know how he affords a place like this, but I'm completely jealous. "I love the view of the city here. It's peaceful. I've always had a thing for the city all lit up at night. It's why I stay up so late. I've been doing it since I was a kid. It never gets old."

  "Get used to it. You're going to be seeing it a lot. I'm going to corrupt you, Piper, but I don't care anymore. I guess the dark is always drawn to those of the light, even if only to turn them to the dark side."

  He pulls me in the rest of the way, touching his lips to mine. A hunger arises as they tussle together, searching for more. He reaches behind me as we kiss, placing each hand on my underwear. His arm muscles flex and I hear a tear before I become completely nude. He tosses the remnants of the fabric over the couch. Oh hell that was hot. I don't even care that they were expensive underwear.

  He lifts himself off the couch with me on top of him and pushes his briefs down his legs. I lift up enough he can work them underneath me before he sits back on the sofa cushion. He releases my lips, breathing heavily. "I'm probably going to regret this, but I want to try something. I just need to ask you two questions. I asked you to trust me so I'm going to try and do the same. I have to be fucking stupid for even considering this. Are you clean, Piper?"

  "Yes."

  "You know this without a shadow of doubt?"

  "Yes. I've used protection with everyone except one person and I get tested regularly. Are you?"

  He's looking into my eyes, slightly shaking as if he's the one nervous. It's a complete fucking turn on. He puts a little distance between us as if he's thinking. "I have never once in my life had sex without a condom. I'm a slight germaphobe. I get tested every three to six months depending on sexual activity, which is exactly why my brain obviously is having a lapse in good judgment, but I keep fucking thinking about feeling you bare. It's becoming like a plague in my mind."

  He rubs his hand through his hair. "I don't know why, but I trust you and I get it. I'm clean and I've even been vaccinated from certain things, but we can just use a condom. It's not worth freaking out over. I like it either way, but I'm used to it with a condom so it's not a big deal."

  He continues to look at me as if what I just said didn't faze him at all. Right now he has a one-track mind. "You're on birth control like clockwork? There is no reason for it to fail?"

  I almost kind of want to laugh. This is so out of character for him. I can tell, which makes me trust him more. "I don't want kids, Haddox. Just like you, I don't want to pass on bad DNA either and I have about a fifty percent chance, so there is no reason to risk it at all. Some types of people don't need to be regenerated into a new person. We are alike in some things."

  He sucks my bottom lip between his and cups his hand over my butt, lifting me from his lap. He grabs his shaft and rubs the head over my opening and up the center with his free hand, stimulating my clit briefly with the head of his dick. Damn, it feels glorious. I can hear his breathing getting deeper. When he lowers it back at the entrance I sit down, allowing him to fully disappear inside. "Holy shit."

  Oh what that short phrase does to me. Motivation is a powerful tool. "Does it feel different?"

  I start to slowly slide up and down, allowing my wetness to coat him completely. "Fuck yes. Damn it's hot and wet. I've never wanted sex this slow, but right now I'm kind of liking it."

  He claws his hands in my long, brown hair, closing it into a fist as I continue slowly. He jerks down, hard, revealing my neck for him. He kisses up the side from the bottom to the top, stopping just below my ear. "You know what I want. Ride me. Get yourself off. I want to watch you use my cock to teach yourself. Learn your body."

  I do
as he says, changing direction from up and down to back and forth. Instantly I can feel the difference. Each time it hits, the sensation drives me wild. I can’t explain it. It feels better at a slower rhythm, but not too slow. I arch my back and he envelops his mouth around my nipple, flicking his tongue over it. I place my hands over the back of the sofa for more leverage.

  He bites down, causing me to yell out. He likes my nipples. I pick up speed. My toes are starting to curl up. I'm getting closer. I can feel my orgasm starting to build when he presses his middle finger into crack of my ass, stopping over the puckered hole. It causes me to tense and slow to almost a halt, distracting me. It's a foreign feeling. I'm not sure I like him being back there. I'm open to sex, but I've never really been interested in rear entry.

  He places his lips to mine, sliding his tongue between mine, but our mouths are open enough he can still speak in between tongue thrusts. "Trust me," he says and begins rubbing up and down over my hole. I start rocking back and forth again. The sensation it causes is something I've never experienced before. My pussy starts contracting around his dick. I don't understand. I can't stop. It's like an accelerator button. I ride him harder and deeper, our skin grinding against each other from the deep penetration. This is different than clitoral stimulation during sex. Instead of two different sensations at once, this makes the one stronger.

  My orgasm builds quicker than it normally does and instead of a free fall it's more of an earthshattering, explosive like feeling. He thrusts his hips forward as it peaks. I moan out as I kiss him heatedly, totally consumed as the orgasm takes over my body. I try to keep going, but I feel like I'm barely moving. I can feel the first spurt as his dick starts to lightly pulse inside me. He didn't pull out. “Fuck, you beautiful woman. That face…does it to me every time.”

  When I stop completely, he removes his hand from the awkward position it's in. I feel slightly violated and filthy that I liked it. I sit back and he has a cocky smirk on his face. I can feel my cheeks starting to turn red. I pull myself off of him. This is going to be awkward for a while. I stand from the sofa. "You should probably clean up," I say, stammering in my embarrassment.

  I turn to walk to the bedroom when he slaps me on the ass. "Looks like I got another first."

  I place my hands over my face and shake my head. I feel so ashamed, but I call out muffled against my hand. "So did I."

  "No clothes. You're sleeping naked. Be waiting." I can hear the laughter in his voice as it fades with the increase of the distance. I'm glad someone is getting a bit of humor out of this situation. I didn't think I had any modesty left, but I just found out I do. I guess we learn something new about ourselves every day.

  I see the bed and get in, pulling the covers over my head. He is going to be the absolute death of me. There is no way to prepare for a hurricane. The only option is find something to hold onto and ride it out.

  I feel the bed dip and warm skin. An arm drapes over me, pulling me flush with a naked body. He folds the cover off of my face. The room is now dark again. "Stop being embarrassed. You have a beautiful ass. Now sleep woman."

  Oddly, I'm completely comfortable in the nook he has created, easily pulling me into a restful slumber with one command.

  "Shit, shit, shit. I'm going to be late." That voice pulls me out of my sleep induced coma. It was obviously another night of hard sleep; something I'm still in shock over.

  The thud on the floor causes me to fully awaken, sitting up in a hurry. I look over and see an ass sticking up in the air, a beautiful round ass. I've never been an ass man until now, but that one is worth touching, inside and out. At some point I’m claiming that too. It’s begging to be broken in. Usually the large, full globes in front are what attract me to a woman, but I like having the full package at my disposal.

  I lean over and slap the plump cheek tempting me. She yelps and falls the rest of the way to the floor. "Haddox!"

  I laugh. She jumps up, trying to comb her fingers through her ratty hair. "I've got to go. I'm so dead."

  I watch her run around the room in a panic. I look at my bedside clock. "What's your hurry?"

  "Seriously? Have you never been in New York traffic? I'm probably never going to make it for my eight o'clock class. Shit. I've never once been late for class."

  She places her legs in a pair of jeans and starts jumping up and down until they are at her waist, pasted on her legs, and ready to button. I grunt as I look at them. They do wonders for her legs, but it kind of bugs me that other men will see her ass like that. She continues moving, showing me a three-dimensional view of just how tight those jeans are. Fuck, her ass is fine. I’m trying not to focus on that thought. "What time do you get out of class? Are you coming back tonight?"

  "I can't. I have so much shit to do. Maybe this weekend if you want." Why do I find myself slightly bummed? This is probably for the best, right? Sporadic is always best.... but I'm suddenly unsure. I don't know why I care, because I have my own schedule to attend to. It's not like I don't have a gym to be at and training for my next fight. That is what allows me to pay the bills for this kind of lifestyle.

  She emerges from the bathroom and sets her overnight bag in the chair that sits in the corner of the room. Her school bag is hanging across her chest. "Is it okay to leave my bag here? I have plenty to get by without it. It's too much to have to keep up with all day."

  "That's fine. No one will be here but me." I stand from the bed, still naked, and walk toward where she is standing with my hand cupped over my unit. Her eyes instantly detour to my center. I stop in front of her and place both of my hands on her ass, pulling her against me. "Remember what I said, Piper. This is mine. Don't test me. I take someone's word very serious."

  I close in, placing my lips just outside her ear. "Remember, no filter. My anger is best left buried. You haven't seen my dark side. I will try to keep it hidden, but at some point it will expose itself. When it does, I suggest you be prepared or run and hide."

  I distance myself from her so I can look into those big, brown eyes. I trace my thumb over that beautiful bottom lip. "No one else will touch these lips until I am through with you. This body has been marked by me. Those before me no longer have claim. I mean it. No one. Tell me you understand."

  She closes her eyes and grabs my hand in hers, pulling it from her face. She holds out a pen in her left hand and looks down as she begins writing on my palm. I watch her as the tip of the pen tickles my hand as it draws each line. When the sensation stops, she drops my hand and looks back up at me. "Even if I wanted them to, I don't think I could."

  That answer pleases me. I bend closer and kiss her lips, allowing myself another taste, though only briefly. "I have to go," she says, as if waiting for dismissal when I break the kiss.

  I nod and she turns to exit the bedroom, swaying as she walks across the room. As the door closes behind her I look down at my hand. Written in bold, black ink are a phone number and one line of text. Don't make me fall.

  As I read the words something shifts in my chest cavity. I don't like it, but I don't hate it either. That girl is trouble. If I was smart I'd leave her alone, but I've already sampled that first line, and now I'm hooked.

  I place my hand on the door handle of my first class. This is so embarrassing. I take a deep breath and open the door, slipping inside. I immediately spot my seat beside Alyvia. The teacher is standing at the front putting something on the board.

  Please don't turn around.

  I try to stay close to the wall, making my way around the back so I can walk down the row to my seat. "Miss Morgan, I advise that you don't make a habit of being late. This is your freebie. After today it will start being deducted from your grade."

  My shoulders fall. Dammit. The skinny, highly paid twit in her perfect designer wardrobe and heels to die for doesn't even turn to look at me. I guess it's more embarrassing for me that way. No more sleepovers before school.

  I quickly make my way to my seat and sit beside Alyvia. I can see her lo
oking at me in my peripheral vision. I already know the questions are coming. Maybe I can hold her off until I figure out what to tell her. I place my notebook on the desk and get ready to take notes.

  She slides a slip of paper across the desk casually, in my direction. What is written on the paper I wasn't expecting. It reads: Have you been with Haddox? Check yes or no. Below it, drawn in pencil, are two boxes and the word beside each. She cannot be serious. Are we in elementary school? Why do I feel like I just slept with the guy my best friend has been crushing on for years? Surely not… She’s with Reese, right? Oh God, now I’m not sure.

  I could just lie, but the problem is that I'm a horrible liar. I guess it comes from having a parent that could see through me like glass, so I was never able to practice. My heart starts to race and I get a nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  She is sitting on my right side. We chose to sit this way so that we don't bump into each other while writing. I can't discretely check either without drawing more attention to myself. When the professor looks down I quickly shake my head.

  She pulls the slip of paper back toward her and begins to write something more. When I look down at it between us a new message is written.

  I thought we were better friends than that. Why would you lie to me? We need to talk later.

  Why do I feel like I've just been caught cheating on the SAT exam? I feel panicky and I can't breathe slowly. I'm not sure if she's upset that she has the inkling I've been with her best friend or if it's because I didn't tell her, because I’m going to die if it’s because she secretly wants him and I had no idea. I feel physically sick. Today is going to suck.

  I'm drenched in sweat from training all day. I have a big fight coming up that I need to be prepared for. I am up against another good fighter. I need to make sure my head isn't clouded. I break for water and to wipe the sweat from my face with a towel.