by Vera Hollins
“What’s wrong? Why are you angry?”
“I’m angry because some stupid asshole interrupted me in the middle of punching. Go back to sleep.”
All sleepiness was gone from his face and replaced by a scowl. “I don’t know what your damn problem is, but you won’t talk to me like that.”
“I can talk to you however the hell I want. This is my goddamn house.”
With a growl, he pushed inside my room and closed the door behind him. “What the fuck is happening with you? I haven’t done anything for you to treat me like shit.”
“You did.”
“Did what?”
“You entered my life! You messed everything up! I hate feeling this confused. I can’t stand it!”
“So, you’re lashing out at me because you can’t figure yourself out? Look at you, lashing out at me again for no reason.”
I fisted my hands. To my horror, my eyes started blurring with tears. I was a hypocrite. Hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite.
“Shut up.”
“Didn’t we get past this? How many times are you going to push me away? Put me through your abuse?”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” I pressed my hands against my ears to block out his voice, shaking my head.
“You’re falling apart, and you’re still refusing my help.”
“Shut up!”
“I feel sorry for you.”
I screamed and lunged at him, wanting to slam my hands against his chest, but instead of defending himself, he swept me up in his arms and carried me to my bed as I hit his shoulders with closed fists.
“I hate you! I hate you,” I shouted, tears pouring down my cheeks.
He lowered me on my bed and covered me with his body, pressing my hands against the mattress. I waited for the panic and terror to come, but as I looked back into his sad eyes, all I felt was simmering pain.
“I know,” he replied ruefully. “But do you know who you hate even more? Yourself.” I stilled, all fight leaving me. “You’re not alone, and you need help, but you don’t want to accept it. You’re a mess who keeps hurting herself, and I can’t stand seeing you do this to yourself.”
“Why do you talk like you care when you don’t?”
He curved his lips into a sad smile. “Oh yeah? Maybe I do care. Maybe I care even more than I thought.”
My breathing was heavy. I flinched as he brushed the tears off my face with his hand, his eyes reflecting the sadness of his smile.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “But you don’t even see it. I didn’t see it myself, but now that I do—now that I see how vulnerable yet strong you are—I’m attracted to you even more.”
I bit my lip, sniffling. “You’re fucked up if you’re attracted to someone fucked up like me.”
He chuckled. “If I’m fucked up because of that, that makes two of us, because you’re attracted to me, too. You just don’t want to admit it.”
My gaze darted back and forth between his eyes. My chest filled with need and longing, and when I looked at his lips, I couldn’t even remember why I shouldn’t want him or his kisses.
He removed a strand of my hair from my face in a move that was gentler than I’d thought he was capable of. His eyes dropped on my lips. And then—
His lips took a slow dive and covered mine. Heat burst through me at the contact, warming all those cold places that had been a part of me since that night. My arms wound around his back and pulled him closer as his tongue explored my mouth, and more tears poured out, uncontrollable just like this need. The need that reached new heights when he started kissing each tear away, slowly and reverently.
I clung to his shoulders. “I’m not a crybaby usually. I never cry.”
He smiled. “I know.”
“I’ll kill you if you tell anyone about it.”
His smile grew wider. “I know.”
He moved to return to my lips, but I stopped him and made him to look at me.
“I’m sorry for hitting you,” I said, choking on embarrassment. “And for snapping at you. And basically for all the shit I put you through because I’m a neurotic bitch. I’m sorry for everything.”
His expression turned to one of disbelief. “Now, that’s a first. You’re apologizing to me?”
I bit my lip, glancing away. “You won’t hear it again, so you’d better appreciate it.”
His lips curved into a soft smile. “Only you could sound so bossy when apologizing. Only you.” He cradled my face in his hands. “Let me show you how much I appreciate your apology.”
His lips returned to mine, and it was just him and me, and warmth, and security I hadn’t known for a long time. It felt so good that I could feel myself relax completely for the first time, each muscle unwinding, and when he lay down on his side next to me with his arm around me and his warmth cocooning me, my body became weightless—a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
He chuckled, and I looked at him to see his gaze caught on something on my other side. Following his line of sight, I saw the lizard looking back at us from the corner of my bed. I made the grimace of the decade.
“I see you’re getting really close with that lizard,” he said.
I could feel my face warming. “Zip it.” His only response was more chuckles, and I swatted his shoulder. “If you don’t stop, I’ll punch your face so hard you won’t have any teeth left.”
“And she’s back to threats,” he said with a huge grin, his eyes shining in the darkness.
I couldn’t resist not grinning back, sighing with contentment when he tightened his arm around me and snuggled his head against my shoulder.
It felt nice being in his arms. Surrounded by his body. So safe.
Before I knew it, my eyes closed and I was pulled back into sleep, no nightmares waiting for me this time.
I woke up to darkness. I needed a few seconds to remember where I was and that I wasn’t alone in my bed. That I’d slept next to Masen. Sometime, during the night, I’d moved so that he was spooning me, with my hand covering his on my stomach, and I sucked in a long breath when I realized something hard was pressed against my backside. I went still, growing too aware of each inch of his body connected with mine.
I looked over my shoulder at him and saw him looking back at me. He was wide awake.
“Barbie?”
He didn’t smile. His gaze was dark, hungry. “Sorry if I woke you up. Go back to sleep,” he said in a gruff voice that I doubted was from sleeping.
Every part of me awoke with sudden intensity. There was no way I could go back to sleep.
I rolled around so that I was facing him. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to. My chest started rising and falling with uneven breaths as I looked in his eyes, the air between us swelling with desire. With possibilities.
“You really should go back to sleep.”
The need pulsed through me in heavy waves. I couldn’t fight it off. I didn’t want to fight it off.
“No.”
He didn’t need further encouragement. He smashed our lips together, and my body jerked from the powerful contact. His tongue was hard against mine, demanding and impatient, and I dug my fingers into his shirt to pull him closer, because even a few inches between us felt like too much. Every part of me felt alive, swept away by his fierceness that conquered all my senses. My head was spinning.
He moved on top of me and left a trail of scorching hot kisses on the heated skin of my neck. I moaned, shuddering under a swift tide of pleasure. His hands were slow and gentle as he slid them down my waist and hips, careful not to scare me or hurt me. It was as if he was letting me get accustomed to it or put a stop to it any time I wanted, but I could also feel his urgency in the tension of his body, which matched mine. For the first time, I was ready for whatever might come.
He straddled me and caught the hem of my top in his fingers. He looked at me. “Can I?”
I nodded, his question sending me in too deep. He raised my top, revealing my brea
sts to him. I struggled to breathe, mesmerized by the fiery look in his eyes as he looked at them.
“Why are you looking at me as if you want to devour me?” I joked in a trembling voice, but he wasn’t smiling. He was completely serious.
“That’s because I do want to devour you. You have no idea what I want to do to you.”
I couldn’t breathe. There was something perversely good about the fact that I could make big, bad Masen Brown feel this way, and I wanted to see just how much he could lose control with me.
He took my breasts into his hands and left an open-mouthed kiss on each of them, and I arched my back, awash in pleasure. It was the first time I’d had my breasts kissed, and I liked it. A lot.
He started to pull away, probably worried he’d gone too far, but I grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. “Wait. Do that again.”
He gave me a wolfish grin. “You like this, sweetheart?” He kissed my breasts again, sending an electric current through me. I nodded, watching him pepper a dozen kisses across my chest. He didn’t take his eyes off me, catering to this addiction within me that was only growing stronger. I felt so much.
More.
His hand slid over my stomach and inside my shorts and panties, coming to rest exactly where my body pulsed the most, and I sucked in a quick breath. Lust colored his eyes into a deep shade of dangerous, turning them darkly seductive. “You really want this? Tell me.”
A flicker of insecurity rushed through me. Not because of my aversion, but because I felt unconfident. He was an expert at this, and I was a complete beginner. I hated being so inexperienced and at a disadvantage compared to him, and I didn’t even want to think about the army of girls that had experienced all of this with him. If I did, I would get angry and push him away again.
His brows dipped with a small frown. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, sensing the shift in me. He still didn’t move his hand.
I closed my eyes. “Shut up and do your thing.”
He let out a raspy chuckle and leaned down so that his mouth was only inches away from my ear, supporting himself on his elbow. “Bossy as always.”
He moved his fingers, and I bucked my hips, a jolt of pleasure ripping through me.
“You know I’ll stop if you want me to.” His hot breath on my neck was tantalizing.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
He chuckled and continued to touch me in a way that made me feel as though I’d totally been missing out on this. I was going mad from the sizzling sensations, confused as to how something I’d always associated with abuse could feel so good. It felt surreal that I was experiencing this—that I was at his mercy, and I absolutely loved it.
His lips glided down my neck, caressing all my sensitive spots. “If only I’d known you were like this underneath it all . . . You’re much sweeter than you let on.”
I could barely discern his words, riding higher and higher on the wave that threatened to drown me. I fisted his shirt, my breath coming out in short, quick pants, and too quickly, I was falling off the edge, blinded by unimaginable pleasure. I cried out his name and tugged at his shirt to almost the point of tearing as the aftershocks hit me over and over again.
When I came back to reality, I was met by his affectionate stare, a look that took all my breath away. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.” His voice was thick with emotion.
My cheeks heated; I wanted to look away from his consuming gaze. I managed a smile. “Let’s admit it. You’ve said that to at least a hundred girls so far.”
He laughed, shaking his head at me. “At least a hundred, yeah.”
He left a tender kiss on my forehead that shattered my defenses even more and spooned me again, encircling me with his arms.
I frowned. “But what about you?” I motioned to the big bulge in his jeans.
He tightened his arms around me. “Nah. This time it’s only about you.”
My chest caved in, a surge of emotions hitting me all at once, because he was just giving without taking anything in return. And to think I’d considered him the most selfish person in the world.
I cleared my throat, feeling as if I could cry again, which was absurd. “You’re actually spending time with a girl without getting anything out of it?”
He nuzzled my neck with his nose. “Who would’ve thought? Shocking.”
I closed my eyes. I wanted to say so much, but it would be impossible for me to explain to him what he’d just done for me. He’d liberated me. He’d helped me heal the part of myself I’d thought would stay broken forever, showing me that pleasure could take the place of abuse, fear, and unconquerable pain.
I snuggled closer to him. I could finally let myself just rely on someone else, with no worries or constant caution.
“Besides, it’s not as though I didn’t get anything out of this,” he added.
I was already drowsy, my limbs heavy. “What do you mean?” I mumbled.
“I enjoyed making you come. I want you to feel good.” He caressed my cheek. “I want to give you everything,” he whispered so quietly I thought I’d imagined it, already half-asleep.
And maybe I did imagine it.
Maybe I was already dreaming, and it was the best dream of my life.
The first thing I felt when I opened my eyes was shame, but I couldn’t pinpoint why. I blinked to clear my vision, and then it hit me. I bolted up in my bed, electrocuted by more shame, and looked frantically for Masen—
Phew. The other side of my bed was empty.
My whole body flushed as I thought about him touching me . . . I couldn’t believe myself. I’d let him do—do that to me. I must’ve been brainwashed. Out of my mind.
And now he was gone, probably bored with me now that I’d let him . . . Except, he hadn’t gotten anything out of it, other than a boost to his ego because he’d made me orgasm.
But why did I feel so let down because he wasn’t here? I shouldn’t be surprised. I shouldn’t expect anything from him—
My eyes landed on a note slipped under the stuffed lizard. I grabbed it and read the words written in messy, boyish handwriting: “I woke up early to take Eli to his group meeting for quadriplegics, and I didn’t want to wake you up. You snore a lot, but that’s okay ‘cause you can still pass as cute.
P.S. Take care of that lizard. ;)”
“Bastard. And I do not snore.” I squashed the note in my hand, flushing all over again, but I was smiling. Why was I smiling?
I stood up and stretched the kinks out of my back, feeling more energized than I had in the last few days. No, not days. Weeks. Hell, maybe even months. Talk about a mind-blowing orgasm.
I went over to the mirror and found a smile that just wouldn’t go away, accompanied with a glow in my eyes that hadn’t been there before. I touched my breasts, remembering so vividly Masen’s kisses, and heat rushed to my insides. My breasts were sensitive, silently aching for more kisses, and now that I’d gotten a taste of what it could be like, it was hard not to want to see if sex with him would also be mind-blowing.
It was hard not to want to see if the two of us could ever work as a couple.
“You’re in way over your head, girl,” I said with a grin and looked through the window at the sunny sky.
For the first time since Steven’s death, I could breathe a little more easily, and a tiny sprout of hope started to grow within me that maybe the rest of my life wouldn’t be bleak without him.
“If you could see me now, you wouldn’t let me live this down.” I found my sleeping top on the floor and pulled it back on. I went out onto the balcony and inhaled deeply. “But I think you’d be happy to see I’m capable of positive emotions. I’m not a complete bitch—surprise, surprise.”
I smiled. This time, my chest didn’t fill with a deep, rotten ache. There was still pain inside me, but it didn’t reside alone in there. Now it had a bit of joy to keep it company.
“If you were here, my and Barbie’s story would be your most favor
ite soap opera. You would call it Torment and Passion. Or Passion of Farts. Even better.”
A flock of birds flew across the sky, creating a few spirals before they continued on their journey into the unknown, and I imagined Steven smiling.
“I love you, Steven.” I said the words I couldn’t say to him the day he died, and a part of the weight I’d carried since that day lifted. “I will always love you, big bro.”
It felt good. Letting out how I was feeling felt good.
Maybe I would be able to get rid of the masks and stop shielding myself one day.
I smiled again. I could try.
I started to whistle, which I never did, and went to take a shower, letting the memories of last night play in my mind on repeat. I grew hot all over again.
Boy, I’d never been gladder that Mom’s room was in the other wing.
I’d expected Masen to bombard me with texts, but he didn’t. He didn’t text me until much later, when I headed out to meet Mateo for dinner, and the message was a real shocker.
“Wanna go out with me tonight?”
He was asking me on a date. Masen Brown was asking me on a date.
I pulled over to the side of the road and read the text a gazillion more times in case my brain was playing tricks on me.
Nope, that was really what he’d written.
My hands were clammy as I texted him back.
“Why? Are you asking me to go hide some bodies with you? If so, I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse.”
I tapped my foot against the floor impatiently as I waited for him to answer.
“It’s a date, Satan. You know what a date is? Or do you need me to text you the definition?”
My nostrils flared. How was it possible that I wanted to kiss and kill this guy at the same time?
“Not before I text you the definition for ‘Barbie is an asshole.’”
I sent another text right after.
“And as far as I can recall, you don’t do dates.”
His text came back almost immediately.
“There’s always a first time for everything.”
Butterflies fluttered in my belly in full force, mixed with fear.