by Renee Dyer
My cell bleeps and I cringe. I do every time I get a message. Davyd hasn’t touched me in months, but I know it’s only a matter of time before he shows his hand. He’s plotting something. I need to end his game. It’s sucking the life from me. I look at my phone and breathe a sigh of relief, but only for a minute.
Cammie: what time r u picking me up?
Tucker’s benefit. I’d forgotten about it. I’m not in the mood to go and the last thing I need tonight is one more reminder of the good man my brother is. Besides, I need to start pulling away from Cammie. It will be best for her. She’ll hate me soon enough anyway, when she finds out I’m responsible for the bomb that will destroy her world.
Sorry. Not feeling well. Hope u have a great time.
I wait for her to send a text back, but she doesn’t. She’s been getting more and more frustrated with me as the weeks go on. I know she was hoping we’d become more after we slept together, but she doesn’t understand that I’m protecting her. If she knew everything about me, she wouldn’t be so quick to jump into my pants. Her silence hurts and I hate that it does, but I know it’s for the best.
Separating myself from her helps me to make a decision I should have made a long time ago. This will not go over well, but it has to be done. Grabbing my cell again, I type out a text I know will start a war.
Deal’s over.
I don’t type anything else. Davyd can take what he wants from my message. My phone chirps.
Davyd: Not that easy lover. B there in 10
Although it’s the end of April and I’m not that cold, I throw on a sweatshirt. I want as much of myself covered as possible as I prepare for battle. Skin showing is a sure weakness around Davyd.
I don’t hesitate when he arrives. I open the door and invite him in. His bag of tricks doesn’t unnerve me like it has in the past. Tonight, I make my final move in this sick game, even if it means one of us doesn’t come out alive. I’m done bowing to his whims.
He slams his bag to the floor and metal clangs. At one time, that sound would have made me vomit in my mouth, or had me paralyzed in fear. Now, I stand stoic, knowing he will never touch me again. He no longer holds power over me.
Anger burns in his eyes, fury radiates from his pores, and I swear he wants to lunge at me, but ever the control freak, he stands before me, picking lint off his sweater. I’m not buying his false calm. His rage is palpable and I want to manipulate him into snapping.
“You don’t get to end our deal, lover,” he says in a bored tone. “You don’t hold the contract, I do. I thought it fitting that I come over and show you who’s in charge.”
He makes a move to go for his bag and I swipe it away with my leg.
“I don’t think so, asshole. You won’t ever be touching me again. I said the deal is over.” I stand tall with my arms folded across my chest and my head high.
“Ooh, such a big man with your chest all puffed up. Do you forget I can crash your world down all around you? It only tak—”
“Do it,” I goad. “In a few weeks, my world isn’t going to mean shit anyway. As soon as Magic in the Blood and our show air their episodes, it’s just a matter of time before I’m outed. I’m already fucked. Do your worst.”
I head for my door to kick him out, but I’m not expecting him to grab my shoulder.
“You are mine,” he demands.
“Fuck you,” I growl, turning and throwing my fist into his face. A satisfying crunch sounds out through my apartment and blood sprays from his nose.
“Motherfucker,” he screams. “I’ll kill you!”
I drop into a fighting stance, ready for whatever he comes at me with. Instead of the fist I expect to see barreling toward my face, he walks back to his bag and picks it up. He walks back to my door and stops to stare at me.
“This is not over, lover.”
My stomach rolls at his words. I know he means them.
Chapter Thirty Five
Grant
I clean the blood from my hands and where it had dripped onto the hardwood floor. It felt good to punch that son of a bitch. I only wish I had been able to get a few more hits in. Actually, a lot more. I’d have liked to see him unable to move and unrecognizable. His parting words still roll through my head and I want to know what the hell he plans to do.
Benny called a minute ago and said Cammie is here. I wanted to turn her away, but I feel bad for standing her up tonight, so I told him to send her up. I’m already dreading that decision. I’m in no mood to be around her.
Her typical thump, thump, thump, thump, thump… thump, thump, comes too soon and I know I can’t avoid her. Luckily for me, I know I look like shit. She may believe my story of not feeling well. I open the door and become paralyzed by her beauty. She never changed from the benefit. Before me is a vision in a sparkling gray floor-length gown, fitted to her perfect body. Her hair is in some fancy twist, off to the side, allowing some of it to fall in curls down her shoulder.
Her lips.
They are what call to me the most. She has a clear shimmer on them, making them look like she just licked them in preparation for a kiss. Man, I want to kiss her. I shouldn’t want to because I’m no good for her, but I can’t stop the thoughts from forming.
“You look stunning, buttercup.”
“Thank you.”
Her words are there, but the meaning isn’t. She’s hurt and it’s my fault. I step back and let her enter. I softly close the door behind us and walk to the living room. Normally I would offer her a drink, but I think we need to discuss her finding new friends and then she needs to go. I turn around and notice she isn’t following me. Instead, she’s standing at the place where the two rooms become one with her hand at the top of her zipper.
No. Please tell me she is not doing what I think she is. And why the fuck is the zipper on the side?
“You want me, Grant. I know you do,” she says as she starts moving the zipper slowly in a downward motion. “I want you, too. I think it’s time we stop fighting it. It’s not good for either of us.”
“Cammie, we should—”
“Stop!” she says, forcefully. “No more excuses. It’s not becoming of you. You take what you want from everyone else, but treat me like glass. I’m not gonna break.” She sounds so sure, but I know I can shatter her.
Shame has me staring at the floor. I can’t encourage this. Her dress is making a rustling sound and I envision it dropping to the floor. Dammit! My imagination is not helping my cause.
“Don’t hide behind your walls, Grant. I won’t hurt you.”
I want to tell her she already is. Touching her and then losing her is going to cause a pain I’ll never recover from. A shuffling sound brings my head up and what I see makes me instantly erect.
Cammie’s dress is pooled at her feet and she’s stepping out of it, toward me. Her gray bra and panties perfectly match the dress she was wearing. The garter, too. Her black thigh highs shimmer as she takes each step in my direction, her crystal stilettos enhancing her long legs. Fuck me, how am I going to turn her away?
Her next words come in time with her steps, further seducing me. “I ache for you.”
I shake my head, trying to deny her words. She’s too perfect, too kind, too good, to want a man like me. I’m tainted by evil. Why can’t she see the demons inside of me waiting to shred her decency?
“Make it stop, Grant,” she whispers as she stops in front of me. “Make me feel good.” She brings her hands to my face, trapping me in her gaze. “I don’t want gentle this time.”
Oh, good God motherfucking Christ of all that’s holy, why would she say that to me?
All thoughts of protecting her leave me as her words tumble through my head on a repeat cycle. She doesn’t want me to be gentle. I hope she understands what she’s done.
My hands grip her ass and lift. I slide them down her legs, forcing her to wrap around my waist. Her shocked gasp echoes through the room, the noise seeming amplified by the blood pumping ferociously through
my entire body. All of my senses are on overdrive. I bellow out a cry of pain that she takes as arousal. Her lips crash down on mine and her nails scratch through my hair. I want her to dig in further and make it hurt. The agony in my heart, knowing I’m going to lose her soon, has me wanting to mark her so every man after me knows I was here.
I’m barely holding onto enough restraint to keep myself from damaging her beyond repair. I must really love her. I wish love were enough to save her from who I really am.
Enough of these thoughts! Fuck her already. That’s what she wants.
With her still wrapped around my middle, I take the couple steps to my couch and throw her down onto it. Her flushed cheeks and swollen lips are the most delicious sight I’ve ever seen. I want to apologize that this won’t last long, but she asked for it not to be gentle and I plan to deliver.
“Remove the stocking and shoes,” I demand.
She gulps. “The garter, too?” she asks.
I nod, realizing that will get me to my goal faster. I watch as she sits up, slips her stilettos off, and quickly moves to unclip her thigh highs. I’m salivating as I watch more and more of her skin come into view. She stands before me, slides the garter to her feet, and then kicks it to me. Cute, but I don’t want cute. Her hands go to her panties, but I slap them away and shove her back onto the couch.
“Don’t remove anything unless I tell you to.”
Again with the gulping. I don’t think she has any idea what she asked me to do.
I grab her ankles and yank. A soft, “Ooh,” falls from her lips and I smirk. She is so innocent. I look down at her and anticipation burns in her eyes. “I’m going to ask you one last time, buttercup…are you sure you want this?”
She swallows hard and smiles her smile that makes my world tilt off its axis. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”
I bring both my hands down and in one smooth motion, I rip her bra and panties off her body. I quickly set to work, kissing and nipping the pink marks left behind from the shredding of the material. She squirms underneath me and I throw an arm over her to still her movements. Her moans caress my ears and cause my dick to dance. Her nipples are calling out to me and as much as I’d like to lick and suck them to show her how stimulating they can be, I go for the pleasurable pain of biting.
Her ass flies up as much as it can with my weight restraining her. Her cry turns into a growl and her nails try digging into me through my shirt.
“I want to touch you, Grant. Can you take some of your clothes off?” she begs.
“You’ll touch me when I want you to touch me.” I want her to touch me now, but I’m barely holding onto control. If she puts her hands on my bare skin, I may do something I’ll regret.
I can feel her pout even though I’m not looking at her. I can’t have that. I shove two fingers into her pussy and almost come in my jeans. She’s so fucking wet. I slant my fingers and start massaging her golden spot.
“Oh, yes, Grant. Don’t stop!”
Her tight channel is snug around my fingers, holding me in an erotic embrace. My dick is screaming that he wants in. I’m struggling to keep control and focus on the way she’s trying to buck her hips against my hand while her wetness coats my fingers. Holy shit, I want this woman as mine. I need her. How the fuck am I going to live without her?
I jerk into a seated position, ripping my hand from her. Her whimper echoes off the walls and her eyes plead with me to finish what I started. “This,” I say, licking her nectar from my fingers and relishing in her sweetness,” is mine. Do you understand, buttercup? No one else gets you, but me.”
I don’t know why I just claimed her, knowing I’ll be losing her soon, but I need her to say she’s mine, if only for tonight.
She smiles and nods her head. Good enough. I dive straight down, my tongue hitting the mark, eliciting a scream so loud, I’m sure my neighbors heard it. Like a man deprived of water for days, I drink of her, licking from her fountain until she has nothing left to offer. Her orgasm ripples through her so powerfully, she lifts herself into me, her body going rigid. I ride out every wave, every aftershock, and when she comes down from the high, her body a puddle of post orgasmic bliss, I show her what a real fucking feels like.
I grab her around her waist, turn her around, and plunge into her from behind. Her cries of it being too much don’t deter me for a second. I don’t tell her she can take it or comfort her by telling her to give herself a minute to adjust. Fuck that. This is what she asked for. No gentle Grant here. My fingers dig into her waist as I attack her with my cock. I pull out as far as I can and bury myself to the hilt, again and again.
“Grant. Oh God, I can’t. You’re too big. Oh shit!”
Her pussy starts to contract and I know she’s close to coming again. I push harder, thrust deeper—fuck, I want to break right through her walls. My fingers find her clit and I set a rhythm that will quickly send her over the edge. Her moans increase with the repeated flicking to the center of her universe and pounding on her core. Sweat beads both our bodies. A final hard pinch to her clit has her screaming out my name and milking my cock.
Fuck. It feels like heaven inside of her.
I pump into her a few more times before I pull out and decorate her back with my hot seed. Thank Christ I remembered at the last minute I hadn’t grabbed a condom. I can’t believe I forgot and I’m pissed at myself for letting this happen.
I storm into the bathroom and get a warm cloth so she can clean up. Now more than ever, I know I need to get Cammie out of my life. This slip up proves it more than anything could have.
It’s funny, knowing what you need to do is never what you end up doing. I allow Cammie to spend the night because she pouted to me about being tired. Those damn blue eyes of hers. I didn’t touch her anymore…well, other than her cuddling into my side, but I refused to let us be intimate again. We just can’t be that for each other.
Now, it’s morning and I’m hiding in my closet like a sally ass fucking punk bitch, waiting for her to wake up and get the note I left. I want her to believe I left. I know if I tried saying things to her face, she would have convinced me I was wrong. She gets inside my head and messes with my thoughts. I can’t allow that anymore. I need to protect her.
I watch as she wakes up and smiles. I know it’s because she’s in my bed. It breaks my heart knowing the pain I’ll be causing her in just a few minutes. She frowns when she sees I’m gone and the paper lying on my pillow.
I close my eyes for a second and chastise myself. How pathetic am I, standing here with the door open the slightest crack, just so I can see how she reacts. I’m an asshole. I already know what the note says.
Buttercup,
I’m sorry I’m not going to be here when you wake, but it’s better this way. I know you’ve heard this from me before, but it’s the truth. There’s so much you don’t know about me. In the next few weeks, you’re going to find out those truths. I never should have let last night happen. I never should have let anything happen between us, not even our friendship. I never thought anyone could look at me and see anything good. Most people see me for what I am. They look into my eyes and they see the darkness, they see my demons, but not you. You see a person I’m just not. I tried being the man you see, but I’m not that man. I am the monster everyone else sees and you’re going to see that soon, too. I’m sorry. Please be gone when I get home and don’t come back.
Grant
Tears slip silently down her cheeks as she holds the letter to her chest. I want to barge out of my closet and hold her. I hate myself for hurting her. I don’t know how long she’ll sit there, whether she’ll stay sad or get angry that I’m pushing her away again. What I don’t expect is for her to start talking to the empty room. I know she can’t see me or hear me breathing.
“Oh, Grant. My broken friend. I’m sorry I failed you. I thought I was breaking through your walls and helping you see that you are so much more than the demons inside you. I see them and the darkness you wrote
about in this letter, just like everyone else, but like other people, I don’t care about them. I love you despite all that. I was able to look beneath your darkness and see the light and love that shines out of you. I would tell you all of this if you would have given me a chance, but this note says it all,” she says, shaking the paper in the air.
“You’re not going to let me back in your life, are you?”
She crumples into a ball on my bed and starts to sob. I should go to her. Her words told me how she truly feels about me, but I stay paralyzed in my closet, watching the best person I’ve ever known suffer, because of me. I stay there well after she composes herself and leaves my apartment.
When I finally leave the closet and walk into my living room, her shredded bra and panties greet me.
What the fuck have I done?
Chapter Thirty Six
Grant
The past week without Cammie has been torture. She must have talked to Eddie about us because he’s rescheduled my shoot times to be completely opposite hers and asked me only to come in when I have to be there. Out of respect for her, I comply. My heart can’t take seeing her anyway. I would want to run up to her and ask if she’s alright.
But, I already know the answer to that.
The way she was crying in my bedroom, I know she’s far from alright. Seeing sadness in her eyes and hearing her try to give me false reassurance will only make me feel worse about myself. So, I stayed away.
Now, I’m standing outside Tucker’s door, ready to do something I should have done a long time ago. I’m going to tell the truth. It’s too late to reverse the damage I’ve done, but at least he’ll know why I did it. I’m sure Tucker will decide I’m more trouble than I’m worth, but I deserve this. He didn’t know he had a brother all these years so it shouldn’t be too hard for him to walk away.