Strip for Me

by Coffman, Georgia

  “What do you mean?”

  “About college. What’s wrong? You cringe when I bring it up.”

  I fidget with a loose thread on my comforter again and shake my head. “Nope. Just nothing to say.”

  He squints at me, trying to see me even in the dark. To see my truth, when I’m so unwilling to share it. And I study him in return, surprised he’s been so intuitive since we met.

  He holds me tighter, encouraging and understanding. I touch his bicep so maybe some of his strength will transfer to me. With a deep breath, I start. “I dropped out of college after two years. Barely finished my fourth semester.” I gulp. “When it was time to start the fifth, I just… didn’t go.”

  He stays quiet, but his eyes are open so I know I didn’t bore him to sleep. No, he looks interested in my words and my confession.

  “It was a hard time for me leading up to that point—unhealthy relationship, problems with friends. But mostly I just didn’t feel like I belonged. Not because it was hard or I was incapable, but because I really didn’t feel like I was meant to be there.” I swallow, my throat dry with every shaky breath I take. The only other person I’ve talked about this with is Emma, and that was so long ago. The words feel new now, like my truth about college is someone else’s and not mine. “Does that sound stupid?” I ask to lighten the mood, but also because I don’t want him to think I’m a dumb bimbo. That I’m an ignorant hick from Alabama or something.

  “No,” he says hoarsely.

  “My parents were pissed when they found me still asleep in my room, my shit still unpacked. Of course, they compared me to Lauren like they have with everything else.” I lean on my elbow to elevate myself and face him while I imitate my mom. One hand on my hip, I point with the other. “You’re never going to have a future like your sister’s if you don’t get your ass a college degree. Stop being so lazy and fight for something for once.” I put my own expression back on and scoff. “Like I want Lauren’s life. And I did fight for something.” I keep my gaze on his. “To get the hell out of their house and out of that shithole town.”

  He kisses me then, his lips soft against mine. It’s not hungry, just sweet. So sweet and soft that tears sting the corners of my eyes. I know he gets it—gets me—through his kiss. It says it all. And I want to cry harder knowing that I’ve finally found a guy who understands me.

  “That’s my favorite fucking thing about you.”

  “What? That I’m a disappointment to my parents?” I ask sarcastically, then gulp in anticipation for his answer.

  “That you aren’t afraid to live. You might dim your light to a world that doesn’t understand, but they’re the problem. Not you, not your light. So let it shine, baby.”

  Stunned, I don’t answer. I just watch him as he gently kisses the back of my hand.

  “So yes, you dropping out of college when you didn’t want to be there? That’s my favorite thing about you.”

  “Okay,” I say, breathless at his words, his intense expression, him. His words make my eyes water again. I needed to hear those words. I didn’t realize how much I needed them until he said them.

  “Want to know my other favorite things?” He pulls on my lip with his thumb and forefinger. “This.” He trails a finger down my bare chest, holding my breasts. “These.” Then he continues beneath the covers to my lower stomach before he cups me between the legs. “And this,” he growls and then kisses me, swallowing my moans.

  My moans for this beautiful man. This man I’ve only known a short time, yet he’s seen more of me than anyone else I know.

  A scary thought, but also freeing.

  Peaceful.

  Maybe this is what it could always be like, being open. Maybe this is the reward for being honest and getting things off my chest—a sexy man with a magic tongue who’s also a warm snuggler.

  Feeling lighter than ever before, I exhale in relief and know that I’ll sleep with dreams of nothing but warmth and freedom.

  Chapter 25

  Sebastian

  She tickles me, tracing her fingers over the tattoo on my chest. It’s the only one I have, unlike Ty and some of the other guys who had a brief obsession a few years back. Ty still claims he doesn’t regret trying to look like Dwayne Johnson, although he makes sure to point out that he has hair, unlike the bald master of Iron Paradise, his own traveling gym.

  I grab Kendall’s fingers and kiss the tips of them one by one, savoring them like they’re popsicles on a hot day.

  She snuggles closer with her head resting in the crook of my shoulder, sighing contently, and my heart is ready to burst. That I have this girl in my arms, that she trusts me enough to be open with me. To let me see her.

  “What’s your tattoo mean?” she asks lazily, her eyes fluttering open to watch me.

  I swallow, because of her and because of her question. “For Eric.” I run a hand down my face, gathering my thoughts. It’s been ten years, and it’s still difficult to talk about him sometimes. “He was my best friend growing up, spent every weekend playing video games at my house. My uncle used to call us Mario and Luigi.” I laugh, the sound foreign to me when connected to anything I say about my uncle anymore. “Eric died when we were in high school. Hit by a drunk driver on his way home from my house one night.”

  “My God, Sebastian.” Kendall sits up, her hand still in mine on my chest. She squeezes my hand while she squeezes her eyes closed. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea, or I wouldn’t have brought it up.”

  I pull her to lie back down with me, keeping our hands intertwined over my tattoo, my reminder of the world’s ultimate cruelty while I hold my saving grace, the world’s most beautiful thing—Kendall’s light. “I want you to know me like I want to know you.” I give her a tight-lipped smile, somber yet secretive, closing my lips to keep from telling her all about last year, about Joelle and everything with my uncle. I want her to know me, but I can’t go there, not yet. Not until the anger subsides.

  It lingers still.

  Like a shadow that blends into the darkness, it remains there, unseen but still present.

  “What about your mom?”

  “Hmm?” Lost in my own head, I don’t hear her question.

  “You said your uncle used to call you Mario and Luigi. What about your mom? Your dad? Or did you live with your uncle?” She bites her lip. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry—”

  I silence her with a kiss. “I did just say I want you to know me.” I avert my gaze, not sure where to begin or how much to say. “My mom worked a lot. She’s a flight attendant, so she’s gone for many days, sometimes weeks, at a time and usually at a moment’s notice. Her brother—my uncle—lived next door, so I stayed with him while she was gone.” I give her a sad smile. “I never knew my dad. My uncle was the closest thing to it. Growing up, I thought of him as a father figure. I always made excuses for his dickish behavior but turns out he’s just a dick.” Grinding my jaw, my heart races at the thought, not wanting to get into it further. “But the movie marathons kept me entertained.”

  “Right. Good ole Sylvester Stallone.”

  “Exactly.” I turn her onto her back and touch the tattoo on her side, a black outline of a cactus. I’ve traced her entire body with my hands and tongue, and aside from me, this is the only mark she has on her. It’s not even two inches long. And unlike the first time we were together, I’m going to find out what it means. “Why the cactus?”

  She sinks further into the pillow. “I’d rather not say… not after you just told me about your friend. I’ll just sound stupid.”

  I place a tender yet firm kiss to her lips to encourage her to open up, to let her know she could never sound stupid. Why she thinks anything she says is stupid is beyond me to begin with. Breathless, I pull back. “Tell me.”

  Her eyes search mine and relent. “It’s my happy place,” she starts. “The cactus reminds me of the desert—calm and peaceful.” She licks her lips and meets my gaze. “Empty.”

  My heart sinks as a dar
kness falls over her blue eyes, casting a shadow over her light. She turns her face toward the window, a small sliver of sunlight shining through the curtains. Next to them, pictures of her and Emma are tacked onto a board. Some are framed. Only one of her and her sister sits on her nightstand. I want to smile, but the picture looks to be ten years old at least.

  And my heart hurts even more.

  Her sister is difficult, but not the kind of person you want to shun. Their disdain for each other seems more like a defense mechanism because underneath it all, it seems to me they’re just hurting. So they take it out on each other.

  She turns her attention back to me. “A cactus is able to sustain its own life with limited resources in the desert. No help. That’s just how it exists.” She shrugs, her emptiness written all over her expression, the darkness still shading her eyes.

  It about fucking kills me.

  She thought she’d sound stupid if she said it, but it just makes me want to pull the curtains open and show her there’s light in the darkness. I know the darkness all too well, and while I’m dealing with it in my own way, she hides.

  She shouldn’t hide.

  I can’t let her hide.

  My tattoo may stem from a tragedy, but I won’t let the same be said for hers.

  I cringe when I open my eyes to direct sunlight coming in through the small window. I rub my eye with one hand while the other is trapped underneath Kendall.

  As soon as I adjust to the light, I take in her sleeping figure. She sleeps with her lips slightly parted and a hand underneath her chin. I put a small strand of hair behind her ear to see her face more fully, just as I did in the middle of the night.

  When she opened up to me so willingly and honestly, I stayed quiet during her confessions so I didn’t spook her. I was afraid she’d stop if I interrupted her, like a squirrel you want to pet but will either run away or bite you if you get too close, so I let her talk.

  The sound of her honest words was like holy music to a believer.

  I inhale her vague vanilla scent before getting up. She stirs and turns over but doesn’t wake up. Her sun-kissed skin calls to me, begging me to run my hands down her back. But I let her sleep. We barely slept all night, after all.

  In the bathroom, I smile at the claw marks on my shoulders, thanks to Kendall’s fingernails and passion.

  She was incredible, letting go like she did. Letting loose for me.

  Checking my messages, I see Ty sent me a few.

  Ty: Dude, where’d you disappear to?

  Ty: Gym in the morning?

  Those were from last night, but one is from twenty minutes ago.

  Ty: Bro, I’m going to the gym to do deadlifts until I can’t breathe. Until I can kick Phil Heath’s ass. You in?

  I text him back that I won’t be going to the gym until later.

  Ty: Just tell me when.

  Moving slowly around the bathroom and her room, I sneak out before rummaging through her kitchen cabinets and refrigerator as quietly as possible. As soon as I get the scrambled eggs cooking and the turkey bacon sizzling, a door opens behind me. I turn around with a smile, only for it to be immediately replaced with a frown.

  Emma.

  Her hair is piled on top of her head, and she’s wearing a short polka-dot pajama set. Rubbing her eyes, she remains in the middle of the living room.

  I clear my throat. “Good morning.”

  Emma jumps back and hits her heel on the coffee table, rattling the small vase of flowers sitting on top of it. “Ouch, son of a bitch!”

  I put my hands out in surrender. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Well, you did startle me,” she spits. “Where the hell is your shirt? Why are you naked in my kitchen?”

  While she shields her eyes like she’s nine and an X-rated film is on in front of her, I take note of my appearance. I am in fact shirtless, and my jeans are basically falling off me without my belt. “Guess I’m so used to walking around half naked that I didn’t even notice.”

  I shrug, but she tilts her head to the side in confusion, then glares at something behind me. “What’s burning? Is that my turkey bacon?”

  “Oh, right!” I turn around and vaguely hear her groan about my ass crack. Pulling my pants up, I tend to the bacon. When I turn around, she’s gone. Shrugging, I get back to work.

  “You know,” Emma starts as she returns, startling me this time. Jumping back like the bacon grease stung me, I face her and raise my eyebrows. She comes close and points at me. “She likes you, but I’m not convinced of your character.”

  “What—”

  “You’re cocky. I could tell from the moment I met you.”

  I smile. “You’re not the first to mistake my charm for arrogance. I just need to win you over, and I do not shy away from a good challenge. Which I sense this is by the way you’re squinting at me.”

  Hands on hips, her expression serious, she continues. “She’s tough, but you know it’s only an act, right.” It’s more of a statement, so I don’t answer. “I don’t know if she told you about Adam from college, but you better not turn out that way. I’ll cut your genitalia off.”

  That gets me. Not the threat, but her words about this Adam. Kendall mentioned losing control with someone before but nothing more.

  No longer smiling or joking, I back away from Emma. “No need. I don’t know what Adam did or who he is, but I care about Kendall. A lot. I don’t want to hurt her.”

  Emma’s expression softens. Her eyes are large when she doesn’t narrow them in my direction. “Let’s just say he was an insecure asshole. Lied with every breath so he could make her feel less than.” She looks down, and when she looks back up, her eyes have a faraway look as though she’s watching a sad drama. “She’s got a big heart, even if she doesn’t always show it.” She shakes away her memory like she’s shrugging off a jacket. “Maybe I said too much. It’s her story to tell. But I wanted to warn you.”

  “Threaten me,” I correct her.

  With a tight-lipped smile, she pats my shoulder and reaches for a piece of bacon behind me. Crunching on it, she goes back into her room.

  I find a tray and grab the small vase off the coffee table to spruce up my display. Careful not to spill the coffee, I make my way into Kendall’s room, but she’s not in bed.

  I set the tray on her desk by the window and jump when the door to the bathroom bursts open.

  “Who did you expect, Freddie Kreuger?” She smiles at me, her face free of makeup and her wet hair over one shoulder. “He only gets you when you’re asleep, you know. Not when you’re already awake with—bacon!” She licks her lips at the sight of the tray, and I want to lick her lips too.

  “Damn it, this was supposed to be romantic as fuck.” I gesture to the tray as she takes a bite of the turkey bacon. “When did you get in the shower?”

  “Right after you left. I thought you heard me. Should I be concerned about your listening skills?” Crunch, crunch, crunch. “Because this apartment is pretty small with thin walls. I’m sure Emma never slept last night with all of our moaning and groaning.” She eyes the rest of the tray. “What else do we have here?” She looks everything over, slightly bending toward it.

  And my eyes are on her towel. My mind on her bending all the way over and me taking her from behind. My dick hardens at the mere thought. “Eggs, but how about more of that moaning and groaning first?”

  “They’ll get cold, and I don’t like—”

  I remove her towel and cup her breasts from behind as I whisper, “I’ll cook you five dozen new eggs if you bend over for me.”

  She giggles, resting the back of her head on my bare chest. I kiss her shoulder and hold her close, her calming presence tugging on my heartstrings.

  Her past haunts me like it’s my own, angering me that anyone would treat this woman like she didn’t deserve a red carpet everywhere she went.

  But her past doesn’t matter in this moment, because I want to make her present worth
while. To show her she deserves the world.

  The feeling grows more and more urgent as she bends over, slowly and sensually, while I remove what little clothing I had on.

  I run my hand down her smooth back while I let my hard length idly press against her. She arches her back against my touch, which makes me groan.

  I groan even harder when I enter her, pushing inside her as far as I can go. She’s soaked for me, the feeling too much. I bend over so my chest rests on her back. “Hold on, baby.”

  She nods urgently, her knuckles turning white as she holds onto the edge of the desk, and I smile against her neck as I pull out and plunge into her with everything I have, the silverware rattling against the plate to our side.

  I grip her hips as I pick up my pace, wanting to become one with this woman I’ve only known a few weeks but has completely entranced me.

  Chapter 26

  Kendall

  I officially can’t walk.

  Sebastian’s stamina is that of an Olympic runner. What does he mix in his protein shakes, Viagra?

  And God, the way he owned me this morning from behind. Gripping my ass like I was his surefire way to Heaven.

  The way he fucked me was unapologetic. Yet he cherished me. Ran his hands down my body like he couldn’t believe he was touching me.

  I could get used to that kind of worship—and energy. To the way he makes me feel important, like he’s not just attracted to my body but to me too. Something I’ve never experienced, especially with Adam.

  When he asks Emma and me to go to the gym after our third—fourth?—round, I was surprised he still had the energy. That coach of his must be feeding those boys something special. The way Ty was eyeing the slutty chick in a sleek black dress last night, and her friend, must mean he had a long night too, but he’s particularly enthused this morning as well. No sign of a hangover, morning wood, or exhaustion from these boys.