Chapter 5~
Tears form in my eyes, and I brush them away angrily. I hate crying. It’s stupid and pointless and ugly. But, damn, this author is pulling at my heartstrings. The FMC in my book was kidnapped and is being tortured while her men- yes men; as in more than one- desperately try to find her before it’s too late. This one is the second book in the series, and I already have a feeling it”s going to leave me hanging by my fingernails.
I love these kinds of books: dark romances with multiple peens. It’s easy to get lost in the characters and their trauma, knowing they will eventually be ok. It’s so not the same in real life. Real life sucks you dry before you become worm food, vulture food, or shark bait. Regardless, it’s stupid. There are no happy endings, just happy moments that fill in the gaps of deep pain. Ok, maybe not for everyone, but definitely for me. The only thing that makes me remotely happy anymore is ending perverted freaks before they have another chance to destroy someone else’s life. Even sex is more therapy than joyful for me. Which reminds me…
E was, was… I don’t even know how to describe it. I rarely have sex, and when I do, I make sure I’m 100% in control. Control has been repeatedly ripped away from me, and I refuse to let it happen again. Unfortunately, that means I have serious damage. But I found a way to cope. Even if I don’t always orgasm, it’s still so powerful to know that, for a brief moment in time, I made someone else feel good. It makes me feel not so…disgusting, broken, ruined.
But E was not only forking amazeballs, he actually got me to orgasm! More than once. I totally could have done without the embarrassing squirting incident. That’s only happened one other time with the help of a little flower toy. I cried and threw the damn thing in the trash.
Images of E flit through my mind as I think of him all dressed up in the COD cosplay outfit. I”m glad he took the bulky helmet and headphones off after I started to run. That would have been such a pain to deal with.
But, when he caught up to me, he made the scene perfect in every way. I relished how he effortlessly moved me around like I’m not some size 18 woman. The way his pierced cock ripped straight into my soul was truly remarkable. My heart flutters as I think about his lips pressed against mine and feeling like our hearts were beating in sync. And, I can”t help but remember the brief stab of guilt, remembering the way his eyes reflected genuine disappointment when I refused his offer to hang out. Nope! Knock it off. It was dark. You didn’t see disappointment. You saw the moon shining or something.
With a heavy sigh, I place my book on the floor, just to the side of the tub so I don’t get it wet. I’m clearly no longer in the headspace to read so I might as well just go to bed.
Sub-drop is apparently kicking in, and I”m in no mood to deal with it. But I refuse aftercare. It feels too intimate, and I no longer do intimate. The Dom who helped train me actually requested we stop seeing each other because I refused aftercare. He hated that I would end things quickly after a scene and then not reach out for several days to a week. I had explicitly told him I would be a good little subby, but nothing personal would be shared and, for me, aftercare feels way too personal. I can’t allow my stupid, bleeding heart to catch feelings. Yes, yes… I know that’s not really what aftercare is for, but I also know myself and refuse to be caught up like that again.
With a disappointed sigh, I lean forward, the bath water sloshing around me, and I unplug the drain. For just a moment, I get lost in the motion of the water swirling around before plummeting into the darkness below. And, before I can stop it, I’m transported to a different time.
Matt stands before me; his blonde hair seems darker since he just got out of the shower. I’ve been sitting on his bed for the last thirty minutes, finishing homework as I wait for him to take us to school.
Matt and I have been best friends for two years. We do everything together: movies, skating rink, parties, mudding…you get the idea. I even set him and his most recent girlfriend, Laura, up. Unfortunately, he also had me break up with her for him two weeks later. Boys. He wouldn’t even tell me why, but it doesn’t really matter. He knows I’ll always be on his side.
Honestly, I’ve been in love with him since we met two years ago. I mean, he’s a tennis player with pretty-defined abs and calves that look like they were perfectly sculpted. His deep hazel eyes are predominantly brown but in the right light, the green really shines through. At 16, he doesn’t have any facial hair but that just means that I can admire the smooth curvature of his jaw. He’s almost as drool-worthy as the guys in N’Sync. But, just like everyone else, he sees me as the “super sweet and funny friend.” Insert eye roll here.
Ever since he broke up with Laura, though, I feel like he’s been more touchy-feely than usual. Tugging on the hem of my shirt, brushing his hand down my arm after we hug; just little things like that.
Then, a week ago, he asked to pick me up from my bus stop every day so we could ride together. Of course, I jumped at the chance. That left us with plenty of time to hang out, have breakfast, and just joke around. I mean, Mom wouldn’t really care. She’s too busy yelling at my alcoholic stepfather. She will never know as long as we make it to school on time.
Today, he said he was running late, so we had to come back to his house so he could shower. I’ve been here quite a few times so I didn’t mind. He told me his parents had already left for work so we won’t have to worry about them fussing over us being late.
Which brings me to this moment—the moment that the Earth stopped turning—the moment that will forever be ingrained into my soul as a core memory.
Matt stands before me in nothing more than a deep blue towel wrapped snugly around his waist. A water drop leaves his hair, slides down his face, plops onto his chest, and continues its path down his smooth stomach. I swallow audibly before shaking my head and returning my stare back to my homework. I didn’t mean to ogle him, but fork, he just walked out and stopped right in front of me.
An unfamiliar heat creeps up my neck and something in my core tingles. Am I getting sick?
I feel more than see Matt step closer to his bed where I’m lying and I have to consciously try to control my breathing. The lines on the page in front of me blur and my heart beats in my ears. Matt clears his throat and says my name. What’s odd is it doesn’t sound like his voice. It’s almost deeper, yet so quiet I would have missed it had I been any further. “Bea?”
Confused by the question in his voice, I peer up at him and hum like I’m busy but still paying attention.Play it cool Bea!
Once my gaze meets his, my heart stutters. His eyes look darker, somehow, and his eyelids are lowered even though he’s looking down at me. His pale cheeks are flushed bright red, and his chest shows a gentle panting rhythm.
“Bea?” His brow quirks up with the question, completely confusing me. I suppose he sees the confusion all over my face as he gently bends down and takes my textbook and notebook out of my hands, tossing them on the floor beside him. The move brings his face closer to mine, and I can see his pupils have grown larger.
Without my books in front of me, I feel exposed. We’ve been friends for so long, and the last thing he needs to know is how I feel. That would ruin everything.
“Bea?” He asks again, almost sounding amused, like he has a secret.
“Matt?” I tried to sound sarcastic, but I could still hear the quiver in my voice.
A smirk makes its way across his face, and his damn dimple pops out. Subconsciously, I lick my now very dry lips. The movement causes his gaze to latch onto my lips before he groans.
Now I’m super confused. “Matt, are you okay? What’s wrong? Do you need to sit down?” I scramble to a sitting position with my legs on the side of the bed facing him.
He chuffs, shaking his head, and smiles wider. “I forget how innocent you are sometimes.”
My brows furrow with confusion and the sudden change in topic. Before I can ask what the hell he’s talking about, he leans even closer, putting his face right near mine.
“Tell me, Bea, have you ever touched a dick?” His warm breath ghosts across my face, and my eyes widen at his question. I mean, I mostly hang out with guys. My best friend is a guy. I’m not exactly prude but we don’t talk about stuff like that.
“Wh-what?” I look away, embarrassment flooding my cheeks as I try to change the subject. Reaching down, I try to grab my book from the floor. “Stop jacking around. We’re going to be la-.”
And he drops his forking towel!
I lower my head and slam my eyes closed. I have no idea what to do. If I lean back up, I’ll essentially be staring at his, um, thing. I can’t do that. I’ll just reach further away and grab my notebook while I’m down here. Yeah, that should work. Then he’ll pick his towel back up.
Only, he doesn’t. My heart stops beating when he moves over into my space. I can feel the warmth radiating off of his body as he towers over me. “Bea, come on. Just take a look then we can go. Unless... you’re scared.” His voice slides over my skin and makes me squirm. The challenge is clear in his voice.
But, then I remember: this is Matt. He loves to rile me up for no reason. “Whatever, Matt. Ha. Ha. You’ve had your fun; now get dressed so we can go already.”
“Bea,” I jump a little as his whispered word and warm breath fans across my ear, letting me know that he’s leaned down right next to my head. “Trust me,” he whispers as he glides his smooth hand down my arm. Goosebumps flicker across my arm and seem to migrate down to my nether regions.
I’m barely breathing, and I can’t move, stuck halfway leaning over the bed trying to avoid his…member.
His hand trails back up my arm, then my neck, before stopping under my chin. “Bea. Look at me. Please?” The last word sounded much more playful, so maybe he’s pranking me. Maybe he already has his briefs on.Little shit.
Keeping my eyes squeezed tightly, I let his hand move my face up to meet him. Once I’m sitting back up properly, I feel his thumb lightly trace over my lip, before pulling it down just a little. “Bea, If you can’t look at my dick, how do you expect to look at a boyfriend’s?”
The accusation makes me want to hit him and cry at the same time. He knows guys don’t see me like that. Why would he say that?
“Ugh fine. I’ll look at your thing. Happy?” I say sarcastically and, frankly, a little annoyed.
Opening my eyes, I take in his long, hard cock standing at attention. It bobs with each breath that Matt takes and there’s a little, near-white bead of moisture leaking from the tip. It’s forking long; freakishly so.
The heat in my cheeks spreads down my chest, and I stare up at him, thoroughly pissed off. “Happy, now?” I spit.
His smug-ass grin turns into something more mischievous, almost darker. His voice is low when he bends to whisper in my ear, “Not yet.”
“Bea…Come on Beatrice.” My brows furrow with confusion because I know that’s not what Matt says, or does next.
Something warm and hard wraps around my front, and I immediately start fighting. I fight like I should have that day. I scream, and punch, and kick. A loud “Oomph” strikes through the fog of the memory but doesn’t deter me.
“It’s me, Bea. Come on beautiful, let me help you…” I scream out with a mixture of frustration and agony. My soul feels like it’s being torn to shreds as the images from that morning flash through my mind.
Before I can convince my past self to do something different, anything different, something soft covers me. A weight presses down on one side as I’m laid gently on the other. Somewhere in my brain, I know this isn’t the memory. This didn’t happen. I’m not there.
So, I fight myself. I fight to break free of the memory and come back to reality.
A sweet, soothing voice shushes me and I can feel a hard body behind me. It’s comforting, nice even, and… kinda sexy. What the fork?
That thought helps pull me back into the present. Blinking my eyes a few times, they finally clear enough that I can see my room. The fresh cream walls and various vinyl records displayed across from me instantly bring me relief.
I inhale deeply, hold for four, and then release. My face is wet and my eyes feel heavy and swollen. But, the soft palm that squeezes my shoulder paired with his raspy, “Good girl. You’re ok,” puts me in panic mode.
With a yelp, I shoot up from my sopping-wet bed and scramble to the edge, pulling the blanket with me. Turning quickly, I stare right into a pair of bright, blue eyes, and I immediately pray that the ground will open up and swallow me whole.
“S-Stu?” My voice is a panicked shriek as I try to scramble away from him.
As casual as always, he leans up on one elbow with that lazy grin of his. He appears to be fully clothed, so that’s good, but his eyes are definitely giving away how much he’s enjoying this.
“Easy, Bea. I hear the wheels turning from here.” He raises his free hand in a placating gesture and his face softens. It’s his calming face; one I’ve seen far too many times.
“What are you doing here?” I hate that my body trembles with shame, and I hate even more that my voice does, too.
Pushing himself up to sit, his back resting on the wall behind him, he explains, “You called for a repairman. But, when I got here, I wanted to see how you were doing. By the time I let myself into the kitchen, I heard you sobbing.” He looks away from me, almost bashful, and shrugs a shoulder.
This time, when he speaks, it’s even quieter; like he’s sharing a secret he really doesn’t want to. “I wanted to make sure you were ok. I knocked on the bathroom door and screamed for you but you wouldn’t answer. I thought…” He trails off and runs his hand through his short pink hair, messing it up adorably. “I thought you were hurt and I wanted to help. By the time I unlocked the door, you were so out of it and your skin was turning blue. I just… I just wanted to help. So, I scooped you up and brought you to your bed to warm you up.”
His voice is quieter, softer, and I now feel like a total jerk. “I’m sorry,” I whisper and bat away the onslaught of tears that are still streaming freely down my face. “Just a bad memory. But, thank you for helping.” I give him a shy smile and suddenly realize that I’m very naked under my weighted blanket. My eyes grow wide and my entire body flushes.
“Um, can I…” I peer down at the blanket partially covering me and hope he gets the hint.
It takes him a moment but when he figures it out, he barks out a laugh and shakes his head. “Of course, Bea, but…I’ve already seen it. You were naked in the tub, remember?” His brow quirks with his sexy grin and his eyes shine with amusement. I hate him. No, you don’t.
My good friends, Shame and Embarrassment, bring a new set of tears to my eyes, and I look away from him. With a chuckle, he pops up on his knees, brings my head to his for a wet smack of his lips against my chubby cheek, and then hops off the bed. “I’ll go make you some tea,” He announces like this is an everyday occurrence.
“But, Beatrice…” I’m still recovering from the whiplash of his sudden playfulness so I barely notice his eyes raking up and down my blanket-covered body. Looking over at him, I watch his eyes meet mine and sparkle with something I haven’t seen before. “Feel free to be naked around me all the time.”
His cocky little smirk pops out a dimple, clueing me in that he’s jacking with me. So, I do what any red-blooded woman would do, I take a pillow from behind me and chunk it at his head. The door slams shut just before making contact and I hear him cackle maniacally as he walks away. Jerkface.
Sliding off the bed, I quickly make my way over to my walk-in closet and find the closest pair of black leggings and a long, off-shoulder sweater. I need to make sure everything is covered. Stu may be the closest thing I have to a friend these days, but I still dress with as much covering as possible. Besides, my body always reacts to his presence and I’ve kept that junk firmly locked up. He doesn’t need to know and I’m sure he has plenty of other people falling for his bad boy meets golden retriever vibe.
With one last look to make sure my belly and thighs are hidden, I glance back at my bed. Remembering the feeling of his body up against mine and his warm hands sliding down my arms causes me to shiver. I force out a heavy exhale and remind myself: He’s a friend. Nothing more, nothing less. Don’t ruin this like you ruin everything else.
Shaking my head, I rush to the bathroom to untangle my still-wet hair and brush my teeth. Feeling confident that the last of my armor has been snapped into place, I walk out of the bedroom and head towards the kitchen.