Exposed: An Anthology

by Brooke Cumberland

  I ended up explaining things to Alex last night, knowing he was still going to be expecting me this weekend. I felt sick to my stomach telling him I was no longer available, but to my surprise, he took it extremely well and said he understood. It lifted a huge weight off my shoulders knowing that I hadn’t hurt him.

  The arena isn’t quite filled yet, only some arrive earlier than the actual players do. It’s chilly, so I wrap my arms around myself holding in as much body heat as I can.

  I sit there impatiently waiting for Coach to come back, and sit with me. I feel awkward and out of place between all the hockey fans wearing hardcore team gear, painted faces, and posters.

  I’m starting to shiver, and I regret not bringing a heavy jacket with me. Just as I’m about to get up and warm up outside, a large, heavy coat graces my shoulders. Assuming it’s Eric, I turn around and smile.

  “Alex!” I shriek, not expecting to see him. “What are you doing here?” I ask casually.

  “Trey and Brandon are buddies of mine. I try and go to the big games and see them get their faces smashed in.” He laughs and swings his leg over to sit next to me. “You looked cold.”

  “Thank you,” I say, hoping he senses my sincerity. “I never go to these games. Didn’t realize how cold it would be.”

  “It’ll warm up soon. More people show up, people start getting drunk and yelling. Pretty much a bar on ice,” he chuckles. I laugh with him thinking how strangely similar it actually was to working at the bar on a Friday night.

  Coach finally settles in the seat next to me and pats my leg. “Ready, kid? They’re fierce tonight. Going to see a lot of blood I suspect.”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” I flash a smile. I knew I’d be on duty the minute the game began. We sit there in silence a few moments more before I hear my phone chime again.

  Eric: What the hell is Alex doing next to you?

  Ah, shit.

  Me: He’s here watching the game. Didn’t know he’d be here, he just came and sat by me.

  I know Eric isn’t fond of Alex for obvious reasons, but I don’t like seeing his jealous side. I look up and try to find him, but the crowd is getting full in the stands, and I can’t see him.

  Eric: I don’t like him that close to you. Is that his jacket around you?

  Oh, great. The last thing I want to do is fight…especially over Alex.

  Me: I’ll be moving down by the players as soon as the game starts. Stop worrying.

  Eric: Call me crazy…call me selfish…But I don’t want some other guy comforting my girl. You are mine to touch…to hold… to comfort. No one else.

  I’m his girl?

  Me: I’m your girl?

  Eric: Yes. It took me long enough to get you. And I’m not sharing.

  Wow.

  Me: Hope that goes both ways.

  Eric: Abso-frigging-lutely, sweetheart.

  I look up and finally see him across the way. He’s smirking at me, and I can’t help his devilish charm. It feels good that someone is actually jealous, and afraid of losing me. For the first time in my life, someone desires me as much as I desire them.

  As promised, I sit by the players as soon as the game starts. I help rub out knots in their arms and necks as they continue tearing their bodies apart. I typically don’t work on the players until the next day, but knowing they were going to be playing extra hard tonight, Coach didn’t want to risk any of them straining their muscles.

  By half time, my hands are sore and tired. I tease the guys and beg them to take it easy for my sake.

  “We’re just getting started,” Trey says over his shoulder.

  Craptastic.

  The rest of the game goes surprisingly smooth. Boys wear out the other team rather quickly as we win by a landslide. My hands are grateful for the break.

  “I bet you’re tired,” Alex asks walking up behind me once the game ends.

  “Oh yeah. Looking forward to icing my hands actually.” I let out a small giggle, feeling uncomfortable that he keeps finding ways to talk to me. When I told him I couldn’t go on dates with him, I didn’t explain why…I didn’t want to lie to him, but I didn’t want him thinking I chose another guy over him. Because well honestly, there was never any competition in the first place when it came to Eric. Even though I denied it repeatedly.

  Before he can answer, Eric approaches us. “Ready, sweetheart?”

  My face deadpans, and I simply nod. I wave to Alex as I link my hand with Eric’s hand. I feel Alex’s eyes on me the entire time we walk out of the arena. I feel awful for not telling him the truth, but honestly, it was none of his business. We’d been on one date, and it wasn’t as if I vowed anything to him.

  “You looked so incredibly cute sitting next all those huge men over there. I, for sure, thought one of them wouldn’t see you and would sit on you.” He laughs, squeezing my hand.

  “Okay, I might be small, but I’m not that little! I’m five feet six, thank you very much,” I announce proudly.

  “You are five feet six inches of pure gorgeousness.”

  “Are you always this mushy? I’m not sure I can handle the mushy type,” I tease, laughing at his sudden change of his expression.

  “Nope. It’s all you, babe. This is what you do to me. You turn my heart to mush.” He places his empty hand over his heart and gives me sad puppy eyes.

  “Oh, my word, you are insane.” I laugh as we approach his car. “I’m not even sure that was a compliment,” I tease, thinking any sentence with the word mushy didn’t sound too appealing.

  He bends down and lightly kisses the top of my nose before opening the passenger door, leading me in. I could so get use to this.

  I haven’t told Eric everything about Aiden yet. I suspect he has an idea of what happened based on previous events, but I haven’t been ready to explain everything in detail yet. Part of me is afraid that once I say it out loud he won’t be able to look at me the same. That perhaps he might not want me in that way anymore.

  He’s easily figured out now how the F word affects me. It only seems to be when it rolls off his tongue, and I’m not quite sure why, but he tries to avoid it now at all cost. He completely understands that I need to take this slow, which makes me much more at ease about this whole thing. Part of me hopes he doesn’t become impatient with me while another part of me doesn’t want to go slow either. I know if I rush this, I will more than likely feel the urge to run.

  “Good mornin’, sweetheart.” A soft southern tone whispers in my ear. I roll to my side, and open my eyes to take a peek at his bare muscular skin.

  “Stop being so damn hot,” I moan, covering my eyes with my arm to block the sunlight.

  I hear him laughing as he pulls the covers off me. “Sorry, I don’t run with a shirt on, sweetheart. Guess you’ll just have to stare and suffer,” he teases, picking me up off the bed and carrying me to the bathroom. “Now get ready. Time for our run.”

  “But it’s Saturday,” I whine, frustrated that he has energy and I don’t. He pats my butt and pushes me in the bathroom to get ready.

  I get a look at myself in the mirror and I hardly recognize myself. I’m happy, which scares the bejesus out of me. I want to be happy, of course I do, but I also feel vulnerable in this state. Part of me can’t let go completely, too afraid of getting hurt, or worse, hurting him.

  I shake off my insecurities for the time being, wash my face, and comb through my rats nest on top of my head. How Eric could find this sexy was beyond me.

  “If you aren’t out in ten seconds, I’m coming in after you.” I hear Eric tease through the door. “Did you fall back asleep?”

  “No.” I whip the door open. “Can’t a girl freshen up for her man?” I wag an eyebrow at him, pushing him back as I exit the bathroom.

  “Why, yes she can.” I desperately want to skip my run this morning, which has never happened to me before, but with Eric, all I want to do is be around him as much as possible.

  “What do you say we crawl back in be
d for another few hours?” I tease, standing on my tiptoes to brush his lower lip between my teeth. He lets out a husky moan, making a smile appear on my face as I see the sparkle in his eyes shine back down on me. He bites his lower lip, hesitating, wanting to take me up on my offer.

  “Ugh, you are horrible,” he teases, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in close. “But no. Run first.” I give him my best pouty face, but it’s no use.

  We run a good five miles before I finally beg him to call it quits. I run for pleasure mostly, but Eric runs for sport. I can hardly keep up with him, but part of me loves the fact that he pushes me to do better, and to keep going.

  We walk hand in hand back to my apartment. His body is covered in sweat, but somehow it’s insanely hot. I chew my lip as I stare at him, wishing I were the sweat touching his body right now.

  “Stop drooling,” he whispers close to my ear. He loves torturing me. He will just barely touch me or graze my ear to see how frustrated I get. I glare at him as he escorts me through the doorway into the kitchen. “You shower while I make breakfast.” He gives me a grin, and it still drives me insane with how sexy he looks even after a five-mile run.

  “Are you even for real? I mean, c’mon. That’s not even fair to most men.” I wave my hand up and down his body, emphasizing how built and perfected his body is.

  “Does this feel real?” he whispers seductively against my ear, pressing his firm body against mine. He wraps his arms around my waist pulling me up. My arms wrap around his neck as my legs instinctively wrap around his waist.

  Before I can respond, he crushes his lips to mine, making me completely powerless to protest. How does he do that? The kiss starts out desperate, eager, strong but slows down to a passionate, loving kiss. God, all his kisses are fan-frigging-tastic.

  My hands cling to his hair, pressing my fingers through the strands, urging him deeper into my mouth. He moans as I sink my tongue in deeper, urging him to continue. He presses my body against the fridge making the magnets fly down, making a light smacking sound as they reach the floor. I giggle a little at the way his desperate, needy hands grasp my hips, pressing us further into each other. I can feel his arousal between my thighs, which is desperately matched as I clench my thighs together squeezing his torso.

  “Stop,” he moans in between kisses, slowing our lips down.

  “Never,” I remark, not wanting to end the kiss just yet.

  He laughs at my lame attempt, breaking the kiss and leaning his forehead against mine. “This is not goin’ slow, Velaney. I can hardly control myself around you, but now this is just damn torture.” I feel his smile against my skin. I know he’s trying to be the gentleman and not pressure me into anything too quickly, but something takes over me when I’m around him. I don’t care about any of that. I don’t think of the consequences or the possibilities of this ending badly. I just don’t care. I want him, my body begs for him, and there’s just no controlling that. Not that I want to control it necessarily…

  “I don’t care. I want you,” I mumble against him, begging his lips to be on me again.

  “You cannot say stuff like that, Vel. I won’t be able to stop once we start. You have no idea how much I want you, but I’m not goin’ to let you get all wrapped up in a weak moment.” Damn him…he was right.

  Sexually frustrated and a little hurt from being rejected, I release my legs from his waist and lower my feet to the floor. I don’t want to look at him, not because I’m upset, but because I want him so badly…so frigging badly.

  I see the eagerness in him just as much as I feel it in me and it makes me laugh as I leave him in the kitchen by himself. We need to separate ourselves for a minute while we collect ourselves again. I knew he was right…but part of me didn’t want him to be right. I was ready and willing to throw myself at him…for my first time ever wanting it…and he threw my words back at me. Ugh, talk about a blow to the ego.

  The next three weeks go like clockwork. Eric and I run almost every morning together. I go to work, then either work at the bar at night or see Eric after his shifts. We’ve become completely comfortable around each other. Eric continues teasing and torturing me as he whispers in my ear, rubs his hands up and down my sides, graces his lips across my neck, and wraps my legs around his waist. It’s the most amazing torture I’ve ever felt.

  Eric is taking this “going slow” thing extremely seriously. I love that part of him. He doesn’t push me, yet he’s not afraid to show me how badly he wants me. Often we reach a point where neither of us wants to stop, yet one of us is always breaking the tension before things go too far. I’m certain Eric is afraid of screwing this up, as am I, so he wants to make sure that when I say I’m ready…I’m really ready.

  He’s never asked, and I’m not sure that he will, but I never slept with my ex-boyfriend, Jake. I just never felt that connection…that spark…that need. Jake was a sweet boyfriend, he just wasn’t what I wanted or needed at the time. I never slept with anyone before. Truth was, before Eric, I never gave it any consideration. I was raised in believing to wait for marriage and even though that was originally my plan, I now know I want Eric to be that person for me…my first. Of course, I want to be in love first, but my gut instinct knows that I’m already on track for that. I can feel that urge I feel for him…I always want to be around him…I care for him so deeply…I ache just to feel his touch.

  “Oh dear Lord, you’ve become one of those girls, haven’t you?” Carissa badgers, taking me out of my thoughts.

  “Huh?” I look up at her, not hearing a word she just said. I lean my head on my fist as I sit at the breakfast bar. Carissa is attempting to make breakfast.

  “I knew it. You are in deep, girl.” She smiles at me, making me roll my eyes at her.

  “I think I’m in deeper than deep,” I admit, wishing so hard that nothing ever changes that.

  “I can’t believe it. Velaney Wills is in love.” She waves her arms around as if she has just dusted fairy-powder over me.

  “I’m not in love. I don’t think so. Maybe. No. Not yet. It’s too soon,” I stammer, rambling, unable to make up my mind. How do you know when it turns to love anyway?

  She huffs a laugh, smiling big at me. “Shut your pie hole, Laney. You are in love so bad! It’s written all over your face like a love sick teenager.”

  “How do you know?” I ask, seriously this time. “I mean, how do you know when it’s love or just lust?” I’ve seen a ton of chick flicks with Carissa over the years. Girls were so quick to fall in love, but was that real life? Did that actually happen?

  “I don’t know, Laney. I’ve never been in love. I don’t want to be in love just yet. But you, my dear, are in love. I’ve never seen you break down your walls for anyone. Not even Jake. And that poor bastard waited two damn years for it to happen. So, trust me when I tell you this, Laney. You, my darling, are in love.”

  Holy shitcakes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Perhaps it’s true. Am I in love? Could I really be in love? I mean, isn’t it too soon? Isn’t there a timeline for these things? I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts I don’t hear Eric coming into my room and laying down next to me.

  “You know, you look the most adorable when you aren’t even trying. Like right now. Just huddled in your bed, under the covers, starin’ at the ceiling. Not only are you adorable, you look so damn sexy without even trying.” Eric leans in close, grazing my ear with his soft lips. I can smell his body wash and cologne on him, as he must have just taken a shower. He shivers sends down my body as his hand rubs up and down my side, stopping every few seconds to draw little circles.

  I turn to face him, chest to chest and without saying a word, crash my lips to his. I had already decided before he came over tonight that I was ready. I want him. I’m practically dying to get him inside me. However, the fact that he may or may not know about my lack of experience scares the living crap out of me. Will he think me differently?

  I’m completely drowning
in my thoughts as the kiss deepens—the intensity floods over my body slamming us closer together. I inhale his scent again, making every part of me want him so much more.

  I lower my hands to the bottom of his shirt, and rub my palms up and down his bare skin. His abs are insanely chiseled, making perfect indents in his skin. I clench my fingers into him harder, letting him feel my eagerness. I rub a finger up to his nipple ring, and tug slightly, making sure to be gentle, yet determined.

  I lower my hands back down again, pulling his shirt up, determined to get the shirt off as soon as possible. A low growl escapes his throat as I throw his shirt to the floor, and press my body close to his once again. I can feel his excitement as I wrap one leg over his hip, pulling him hard against me.

  “Oh, fuck, baby,” he moans, as my lips freeze on his. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. It slipped. It’s just…you drive me absolutely insane.”

  I swallow. I close my eyes, pushing the images out of my head as hard as I can. I feel his hand cupping my cheek, rubbing his thumbs against me. I know it’s just a word, but have you ever had a smell, or a flower, or a color bring you back to a memory? Well, that’s what the F bomb does for me…right away. The strange thing is it only happens when Eric says it. Perhaps it’s his low, deep husky voice that does it, but whatever it is, it kills the mood instantly.

  “It’s okay,” I choke out, opening my eyes again. “I know you didn’t mean to say it,” I soothe. I don’t want him to get frustrated and think I can’t handle being intimate with him.

  “No, baby. I know better. I’m sorry. Can we please just forget it? I swear, it won’t happen again,” he pleads, rubbing his nose against my ear, whispering against my neck. It sends chills down my body, making me smile at how eager he is to touch me.

  “You fucking look at me when I’m talking to you!” Aiden’s scream hushes me. I slowly turn my face up to look at him through cloudy eyes. I cry every night and tonight is no different. Aiden is messed up again, reeking of alcohol. After putting up with him for the past year, I now know when he’s been drinking.