“Hot. Crazy intelligent. Commanding. Passionate,” I sighed. “Everyone has good and bad and sometimes the good is bad and the bad is good.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I opened my eyes and uncrossed my legs, turning so that I could look at her, getting closer to her face. “What character do you think I am?”
“Uh oh,” she said smiling and staring at me. “That question’s actually hard… You’re not any of them,” she said. “You’re better than them.”
“How can I be better than all the characters? And now you’re showing me up since I called you Bette.”
“You know what you’re like?” She asked, squinting her eyes like it hurt her to see me, hurt her in a good way. Like I apparently shined.
“What?” I moved my nose against hers.
“You’re like those movies they make, the ones that are specifically for teenage boys, where there’s this girl next door and she’s sexy and she’s complicated and she’s too real for them and there’s no one else out there who could ever compete because she is everything. All the boys in those films are always unimpressive. But they’re nice to the girl and they somehow win her. I’m that boy,” she said.
“You’re better than that boy.” I moved so I was on top of her. “You’re that girl too. You and I are the story where two of those girls meet and totally blow off the guys that they’re supposed to be with to be together. Thus, exploding the brain of every man child within a thousand mile radius.”
“I guess I never really believed that those stories could happen,” she said.
“It’s happening right now. We’re going to get married and the credits will roll. We’d make a great indie film.”
“No,” she smiled. “This is better than that.”
“Oh. Dana though,” she laughed. “You’re like the perfect mix between Dana and Alice. Do you think Shane’s hot? I never much got that… I mean Carmen was hot. Shane was just sorta cute and annoying… I don’t see her in you.”
“No, I don’t think Shane’s hot. I just connected with how she was with people romantically. You really think I’m Dana?” I smiled down at her.
“I think you’re oblivious to some things like her,” she teased. “You didn’t know at all I wanted to fuck you.”
“No, it’s weird. I can usually only tell when people I don’t like back want to fuck me. I guess I can’t believe when someone finds me attractive on a deeper level.”
I put my lips right next to her ear. “Do you want to fuck me now?”
I felt her whole body twitch at that as her eyes closed and she had to momentarily stop breathing.
“Of course I do,” she said painfully.
“Then why don’t you?” I moved my knee between her legs and nudged her sex through her underwear.
She breathed in sharp and I felt her hands push down on my jeans.
“You want these off?” I looked down and moved my hands to the button.
She nodded, still tugging.
I got up, unbuttoning my jeans and pushing them down little-by-little, teasing her, making her watch.
When I got them to the floor, I stepped out of them and kicked them away. “Now what?” She was going to have to direct me.
She stretched out on the couch and rolled over onto her stomach, pushing her hands against the arm so that her body would slide down more and her skirt would pull up and I’d see the naked backs of her legs.
I watched her put her hands behind her back and hold one of her wrists with the fingers on her opposite hand.
She just laid there, so still.
I didn’t know what to do.
“Tell me,” I said.
“Just touch me,” she said, waiting.
Her words made me shudder. I reached over, running my hand up her leg from her calf all the way up to her butt, stopping to go back down. “Where?”
“Everywhere,” she whispered, as still as can be.
I pulled her skirt down a little, stopping to unzip it and slide it down her legs. I wanted to lay beside her but the couch was too narrow.
She just waited there. I could stare at her all night and I knew that she would still be laying, waiting for me to touch her. My hand trembled as I ran my fingers along the inside waistband of her panties. I kissed her back, nudging her shirt up and running my tongue over her.
“Should I be gentle?” I asked between kisses.
“I dunno,” she said nervously already feeling a lot from what I had done. “Should I stop?” She asked. “Do you want me to touch you?”
“I want to touch you first.” I crawled up on the couch between her legs and ran my nails up her legs and to her inner thighs, pushing aside her panties with two fingers and bending down to touch my tongue to her. Just a little taste.
I felt her tense; her legs squeezed. The sound she let out was addicting like she hadn’t expected it and when it happened she wasn’t ready at all.
“I want to just hurry up and fuck you because I've been wanting to for too long but I also want to tease you a little and I'm having trouble deciding.”
Her whimper set me off and my fingers slipped back from holding her panties, falling right into her opening.
“Please,” she begged. “Please just take me.” She was desperate, waiting. Every second too much but never enough.
I kept my touch light. “You're sure then?” I asked.
“I’m sure,” she said.
I took my fingers away and stood up, waiting for a moment, looking down on her.
When I was ready I pulled at her panties. Pulling them off like I had her blazer days ago.
I moved her so I could get closer and repositioned myself between her legs. She was breathing heavy but not moving otherwise.
I gave no warning, just pushed two fingers into her and punished her with a fast pace. Her hands gripped at the cushion of the couch on either side of her face and I felt her legs flex to add resistance. “You like that?”
“Yes,” she panted out after a second of no air. She assumed a position and she was trying hard to be still.
It was like tug-of-war when you plunge your feet hard into the sand. She braced herself for me and expected me to fight her. Her struggle made me plunge deeper into her. I could see her head move and I reached up to twine my hand in her hair and tug.
“Uhhh-” She let out a pained cry.
“You need to tell me if I do something wrong,” I told her.
“More,” she begged needily. She was serious, dire. “Harder,” she said. “I wanna scream.”
That replaced doubt with need. I pulled harder on her hair and leaned over her, using my knees to spread her legs wider to go deeper inside.
“I want to be so far inside of you that I'm lost,” I whispered, biting down on her shoulder and pulling her head to the side.
I felt her hand come back and hold at my head, pressing me to her. She was gasping for air now sounding scared but in a good way.
I let go of her hair and wrapped my arm around her neck, still fucking her. My arm tightened and I flexed my muscles against her throat to see what she would do.
I could feel it, she was leaning down into my arm as I pushed inside of her. She wanted me to choke her and when I did she got close. When I flexed harder in response her hands came up to hold on my arm and I felt how close she was inside, her walls were pushing me out and she wasn’t breathing she was frozen in sensation, waiting to cum.
I had put my arm there for control, not for this, but as she pressed into me, cutting off her air, it gave me complete control. I wouldn't abuse it.
I put my lips next to her ear. “I love you, baby.” I pulled back a little tighter, raising her off the couch and curled my fingers and she instantly came, spasming around my fingers.
I set her down gently and let her come to a rest before withdrawing my fingers and laying on my side between her body and the back of the couch.
She was still. It scared me. No matter what we did there was a specter in the corner. M
y fear and hers coalesced. Right now I just needed her to be okay.
“Vi!”
“Huh,” she managed.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
She reached back and grabbed my hand, tugging me until I lay more on her.
“I'm fine,” she croaked.
I still doubted myself. The instincts that led me to do those things. I got off on controlling her. I’d never really put my kinks next to what Ben did. I knew we were different but Olivia's concerns ran around beating their drums in my head now.
What if we were engineered by a madman?
Chapter Eighteen
Olivia
By the time we got back to the house I was sick with myself for trying so hard to dodge and explain.
The Skylar stuff was complicated. I could ruin a friendship if I didn't just pretend I didn't know.
I felt bad for Skylar though. She was amazing. They got along so well. Better than Avery and I. That's for damn sure…
I didn't like thinking all my thoughts all day. From the time I got up I was flooded with stressors. I'd been keeping secrets all day and the one time I tried to be completely honest and let myself speak I pushed Avery over and had to stop myself to bring her back from the depths.
From then on I stayed quiet. Half-truths, white lies.
We're home now and she wants me.
I want her too but somehow I know it's not the same.
I know all our talks today have fucked me up mentally. That's all I know.
And when she asks me for sex all I want to do is lie still and let her take me.
Usually I want to stare into her eyes, make it last for hours, but tonight I just feel really strange. It's like I've slid back in time or something to that place I used to dwell when I sought out Nat.
I dunno if Avery really understands how much my emotions dictate what I can sexually want and what I can sexually take.
There's a reason our sex is always different. I know that but I don't know if she does.
I want it like the other day when I couldn't breathe and my body hurt the rest of the night.
When she asked if I wanted it gentle it made me think she was starting to know.
As soon as she started touching me it felt right for me, so much better.
When it ended though I realized what I'd done.
I hadn't looked at her, hadn't touched.
I hadn't loved her.
I was stupid and sad.
My face on the fabric of the couch was probably red because my skin burned.
I'd cried at some point.
It was so quick though, of course I cried.
Avery laid ontop of me and I settled at the feeling of her there.
“I'm sorry,” I said, once I finally calmed enough to gain some power back.
She deserved so much better. But Ben reminded me today about Nat and the racquetball court and how much I had taken. What I'd let a person do to me if I didn't really care how they thought.
“Why are you apologizing?” She asked, pushing at my arm, trying to get me to turn over.
“I dunno,” I lied. I was already sick of lying. I couldn't turn. I stayed still.
“You feel like you’re not treating me right,” she said. Like she was reading me for once, really trying to figure it out.
“Or are you scared because you liked what I just did?”
“I'm not scared,” I said. “You didn't scare me.”
I finally got up the courage to shift and turn around to lay on my back.
Soon as I turned her eyes were on me. I felt her hand on my cheek. She needed to see me. I knew she needed to see.
Now I felt weak.
Before I didn’t. Before I could take so much more.
“I don't want to talk about Ben,” I sighed, knowing that even the mention of his name right now was a huge fuck up on my part.
How else could I explain though? I can't pretend that this has nothing to do with that.
“I don't want to do that with you but I need to talk about it,” I said.
“Then talk to me about it. I can take it. I wasn't prepared earlier. I know how to avoid the bad place now.”.
The bad place…
My baby…
I let my hands float up into her hair so I could pull her down and kiss her.
She kissed me back, taking her time.
“I’m serious. I know you want to talk and I want you to talk to me. Don't be afraid for me. This is about what you need.”
“It’s not that simple,” I whispered painfully.
She wanted it to be simple but it wasn’t.
It couldn’t be.
“Did you know I didn’t even like being back at school just now?” I asked.
She didn’t know.
I knew she didn’t know.
“No, I didn't.” She kept her expression open. Her eyes pleading with me to let her in. “Tell me why. I'm good with complicated.”
“It just felt like an old place. A place I never should’ve been.”
“Ever? Like you were just done with it. Like it was wrong to be there?”
I squinted my eyes to think. “Like I never fit there. Always felt different. And everything that happened to make me feel like I belonged was a lie.”
“I see.” She ran her hand through my hair, pushing it away from my face, settling into my body.
“Is there a way you can graduate but not go to school?”
“There is,” I swallowed. “I don’t want you there without me though.” I thought about it some more. “It’s more about how now I see it differently and I always will. I can’t walk the halls or sit in the parking lot or be in any room without thinking about how I used to feel compared to now. At Huntington I always felt out of place but like I could make myself pretend to fit. I never met anyone like me. And then I thought I did but I was wrong. And now that whole place is wrong. All of it. It’s like I spent all that time knowing I’d never be part of the song. I vibrated through always knowing I’d never become part of the frequency I guess… And once I danced with becoming a part… I dunno. It’s like I was always dancing above or below the staff while everyone else was on it together. Like with swimming,” she’d get that. “I was outside the pool, everyone else in, occasionally I’d think I could go in too but I’d dip my toe and know I shouldn’t. It’s like everything that happened just solidified that. It’s like just my touch tainted the water. I’m just talking. Stop me.”
“I don't want to stop you. I like you talking about these things.” She looked at me with such fondness, still playing with my hair. “I want to hear it. Go on.”
She wasn’t reacting though and I needed to know what I was making her think.
I’d proven on accident, time and time again, that what I thought could be dangerous for her.
“It's okay,” she said. “I'm just listening. I want you to do what's best for you. If that's not being there fine. If you want to be there because I am that's fine too.”
“I can already feel how it’s going to be when we go back,” I said. “We’ll be in separate rooms. I won’t be able to know you’re safe. And because of where we’ll be I’ll be irrationally worried.”
I stopped. I didn’t like saying it.
“But these are just some of my thoughts since the morning,” I said. “I think I needed you to do that to me so I could calm down.”
“Yeah?” She was quiet, watching her hands run through my hair. “Is it like, when I get wound up and I can't think straight until I get it out? It helps me when we have sex. And then sometimes I just want to love you.”
“I always want to love you,” I said, feeling horrible.
“I know.”
“Just now, when we stopped I realized that’s not what I’d done,” I confessed.
“What do you mean? What was it?”
“I dunno,” I felt uncomfortable.
“Do you really not know or are you protecting me because you think it might hurt me and you
by proxy?”
“I really don’t know,” I said bitterly. “I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t even know how this started.”
“It's okay. I liked what we just did. To me it wasn't a negative thing. It was just how we felt.”
Paper Dolls [Book Three] Page 31