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His mouth finds mine and suddenly it’s like he can’t get enough of me, and his movements pick up. His hands move from the headboard to my bottom, driving himself deeper. It’s not exactly pleasant; it’s sort of painful, but I don’t say anything to stop him.
Parting his mouth from mine, he drops his lips to my shoulder, panting and grunting with each hard thrust inside of me. Then he stills, his body jerking, tensing, shaking as he releases inside of me. Pumping into me a few more times, he groans and collapses his weight against me.
It’s only seconds later, still trying to catch his breath, he lifts his head, his hair falling into his eyes as they penetrate mine. Silence lingers between us, the tension creeping in. He looks different. Sweet? No. . . maybe vulnerable? Does he look different to you? He reminds me of when he was younger before the emptiness inside defined him.
He doesn’t say anything before shifting his weight off me. Removing the condom, he tosses it in a trash can next to the bed and reaches over for a cigarette on his nightstand. Watching him, it’s then my thoughts catch up with me. My cheeks blush. I just lost my virginity. Now I feel like I look different. Will he seemedifferently?
Hearing the flick of his lighter, then the inhale, I smile and look down at the sheets pooled around my waist. “Why do you have ninja turtle sheets?”
He smirks, taking a long pull of his cigarette. “Because they’re cool.” He exhales the cloud of smoke, obviously not caring what anyone would think about them.
I lie next to him, unsure what to do next. Every other time we’ve been together like this, we’ve been drunk and one of us passes out, or leaves. Now it’s different. I let him in. Literally.
He wraps his arm around my shoulder and draws me into him. He’s warm, his heart still beating rapidly. I also don’t miss the way his hands are shaking.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, and then regret it because what ifheregrets what we just did?
He’s quiet for a moment, lost in thoughts he’s not sharing, staring up at the ceiling while his smoke circles around us. “Nothin’.”
“I can uh. . . sleep in the room with River.” I have no idea how this works. “If that’s what you want.”
Don’t tell me to go. Love me.
“I want you to stay.”
My heart pounds. He shifts, leaning forward to put his cigarette out. When he returns, his body curls around me. He’s snuggling. With me. While I may not have had the attachment I wanted, he gave me what he could. This guy, my anxious hardened guy, he really did give me everything he could.
Neither one of us say anything for a few minutes, me being paranoid and he’s calm in the storm and anxious in the quiet. When I shift closer, his lips meet my skin and I am on fire, burning to the beat of his heart and shaky breath over my skin. Lazy eyes watch me, captured by my every move as I lie against his chest.
Heletsme get as close as I want.
Did you forget we had candles going?
We did. Guess what’s on fire now?
Tiller’s curtains. Don’t worry, it’s put out fairly quickly, but still, it ends in the two of us laughing on the floor, smoke filling his room until he opens the doors leading out to the balcony overlooking the motocross track. It’s then he pulls me close, an act of tenderness I didn’t get during the sex.
We’re naked, still, and with my hands on his shoulders, his body tenses. “Do you regret it?”
I rest my head on his chest. “No.” I want to love him in all the ways I’m afraid to love him, in all the ways I believe I don’t deserve.
I’m not sure what to make of last night. What about you? I know what you’re thinking, could you have been anymore detached? About that. I was nervous. That’s the only answer I can give you because even I didn’t understand the nerves. Maybe because I’ve known this girl since I was five years old and every time we came close to finally doing it, she’d put the brakes on and I’d be left hanging. But this time, for God knows what reason, she didn’t and finally let me have her.
Me. The fuck up. She wanted the deranged motherfucker who begged to make her pussy bleed and then when I finally do, I didn’t know how to act. The fact that I’m the only man to ever experience her tight pussy, it makes me hard as fuck, even now.
Would it be wrong to wake her up and ask for more?
Probably.
Do you see her there? Curled against my pillow she stole from me?
She spent the night. In my bed. Are you surprised? Shit yeah you are.
Her naked body’s draped across my chest and while I don’t have rules about this kind of thing—because I’m no good at following them—I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do next.
Southern California sun filters through the black curtains, sparking light in my room. I stare at the ceiling, trying to remember if we’re out of Captain Crunch or not. If Camden ate the last of it, I’m going to nut punch that fucker.
Not that I’m surprised last night happened or that she’s still in my bed, yet I’m uncomfortable. You can’t share a twin bed, which is partially why I still have a twin bed in my twenties. If the chick’s uncomfortable, she won’t want to stay the night. Tell me that’s not smart.