Seventeen
Fallon
I sag against the bed frame once Remy pulls out. The emptiness I feel is alarming, and not something I want to explore the reasoning behind. He makes quick work of freeing my hands, then pulls me up to face him. My nipples pebble against his chest as he holds my face in his hands. I’m sure my makeup is smeared all over the place, but the way he looks at me has my stomach twisting in knots.
“Such a good girl,” he praises as his thumb wipes away a tear from earlier. I hate the way my traitorous body reacts to him. His words send a fresh wave of desire coursing through me, and I’m ready to jump in his arms and demand he take me again. What the hell is wrong with me? Remy has told me more than once that he wants to see me break, so how the hell have I let him make a dent?
“Let’s shower. We’re still covered in sand.” He picks me up, making my legs wrap around him in fear that I’ll be dropped.
“I can walk!” I squeal as I hold onto his shoulders tightly.
“Yeah, and I can carry you. What’s your argument?” he smirks down at me, and if he wasn’t so handsome, I’d probably punch him. Ugh, men.
He sets me on the cool porcelain counter, then turns away to start the shower. I take a quick glance at the mirror and see a freshly fucked Fallon looking back at me. I definitely don’t look like the hot mess I assumed I would.
“Making sure you look good for me?” Remy’s sudden appearance startles me, making him chuckle.
“Is it hot yet?” I gesture to the shower, not wanting to admit that I cared about my appearance.
“Yes,” he murmurs in my ear, sending shivers through me. I jump from the counter and duck around him to be the first in. He follows suit, but I close my eyes and face away from him. This feels too intimate. I feel vulnerable. Fucking and showering together are two very different things.
I grab his shampoo, but he yanks it from my hands.
“My shower, my rules.” I roll my eyes, but he can’t see. He begins lathering my long hair, and I can’t help but feel like something changed between us. Somewhere along the way, the hate turned to something else. Everyone says there’s a fine line between love and hate, but I never gave that idiom a second thought. As much as I want to, I don’t hate Remington Frampton. So what does that mean?
My heart pounds in my chest, a wild drumbeat of fear and longing. I want to push him away, to build my walls higher, but his touch is gentle, disarming. He’s been tearing my walls down all along, and I’ve only just got the message.
All of a sudden, I feel like I can’t breathe. This shower is huge, but I feel like I’m suffocating. I turn around, but the words die on my lips. Remy looks…relaxed? The usual scowl is gone and replaced with a look of contentment.
“What’s wrong?” He senses the mood change, but I don’t know how to answer him. Tears prick the sides of my eyes, because I haven’t seen someone look at me like that in so long. Even my own mother was too preoccupied once my father went to prison.
“I…” My voice falters, and I look away, trying to gather my thoughts. “I’m not used to this,” I finally admit. “To someone acting like they care.” I hate opening up to him, but the words spill from my mouth before I can stop them.
The warm water cascades over us, mingling with the scent of his shampoo—fresh, clean, and oddly comforting. His hands, slick with soap, cradle my face with a tenderness that makes my breath hitch. Remy’s expression softens.
“You deserve to be cared for, Fallon.” His declaration startles me. Surely he doesn’t mean himself. His eyes search mine, looking for something—permission perhaps, or understanding.
I step back, the cool air hitting my skin as I break contact. My heart aches at the loss, but I can’t let him see that. Not now.
Why does he have to say things like that?
Why does he have to make me feel things I’m not ready to feel?
I can’t afford to let him in. Not when he has the power to destroy me.
“Yeah, and you think you’re the one for the job,” I scoff. I lean my hair into the water, rinsing the soap so I can get out of here. I can’t let him get this close. The hate fucking is one thing, but Remy with emotions is something I can’t deal with.
Remy’s jaw tightens and he takes a deep breath. “Maybe I do,” he says quietly. “Maybe I want to be.”
I pause, the water cascading over me, washing away the soap, but not the confusion. “Why, Remy? Why me? You hate me. You’ve been bullying me for fuck’s sake!”
“I don’t hate you, little fox,” he admits. His eyes look pained, and I wonder what he’s thinking.
I stare at him, the words hanging between us like a fragile thread. The steam from the shower swirls around us, creating a cocoon of warmth and uncertainty. My mind races, trying to make sense of his words, his actions.
“Why do you call me that?” I murmur, needing to know, but equally scared to hear.
He smiles, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. “Because you’re clever and fierce, just like a fox. You always have this spark, this fire in you that I can’t ignore.” My throat clogs with emotion. His words leave me breathless, and for a moment, I can’t find the right response. Instead, I lean into his touch, letting the warmth of his hand on my cheek ground me.
I swallow hard, his words sinking in. “I never knew you saw me that way.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “You never asked.” I don’t know how to respond, but I think he knows that. He brings his forehead down to rest on mine, his eyes never leaving mine. My mind swirls back to dinner and the question that’s been burning in my mind about Remy’s mother. I know there’s a story there, but will he tell me? Earlier outside, he wouldn’t open up to me but I need to get the question off my chest.
“Um…your mother,” I begin, his grip on me tightens but I continue. “What happened?” Remy closes his eyes, looking like I caused him psychical pain from the question.
His eyes snap open, but instead of anger, I see sadness.
“She died during childbirth. I never knew her.” He runs his fingers gently along my cheek.
“My father has always made sure I knew it was my fault and that he’d rather have her on this earth than me,” he murmurs, his expression pained.
“Apparently she was the love of his life and I fucked it up by being born,” he shrugs. I know my family was messed up but fuck, that’s on a whole new level. No wonder he hates him so much.
“You know that’s not your fault, right? He shouldn’t be treating you like you have anything to do with that because you don’t.”
“It is what it is. I’ve learned to deal with it.”
“I know but—“
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Fallon,” he snaps, making me flinch out of his grasp.
“Let’s finish up. You’re staying here tonight,” he says more calmly, and I know it’s not up for discussion. For once, I don’t have it in me to fight him, but I still have one more question that’s been in the back of my mind since Rowyn mentioned it. I open my mouth, but the words don’t come. Maybe I don’t want the answer. As it stands, I feel special, but what if he really does kiss other girls. Then I’m just like the rest.
“Spit it out, Fallon. I know you have more you want to say..”
“I heard that you don’t kiss girls but you’ve kissed m–” He presses his soapy finger to my mouth.
“It’s true. You were my first,” he answers.
“I-what?”
“I never wanted to be that close with someone. I never had the desire, until you,” he murmurs, brushing the hair from my face.
“I don’t know what to say to that,” I admit.
“You’re different, Fallon, and I crave you.” I bite down on my lip as I consider his words.
“Keep doing that and I’ll press you up against this shower,” he warns.
“Maybe that doesn’t sound so bad,” I tease. His nostrils flare as his hands circle my waist, pressing me against the cool glass wall. I gasp from the chill soaking into my fevered skin. Remy’s fingers lightly dance over my cheek, then he pulls my chin out for our mouths to meet. It’s soft and unhurried, but oddly holding even more passion than before. His lips are soft and warm and his tongue tastes like me and spearmint gum. It’s a heady combination. He pulls back then kisses my forehead and I think I melt into a puddle on the shower floor.
Remy grabs a washcloth and squirts it with his soap. “So you’ll smell like me,” he laughs, and starts running his hands over my body. He spends extra time on my breasts, but when I see him smirking, I know he’s doing it on purpose. His hands begin to go lower and I freeze. I don’t want him to see the scar on my stomach. It’s hideous, but more than that, I don’t want the questions that will come. I try to turn away, but his grasp on me remains firm.
“I–” but the words drift away when I see where he’s looking. A pit in my stomach forms, forcing me to look away from his piercing blue eyes. His gaze is too intense for me to bear.
Remy’s hand pauses just above my scar, his fingers trembling slightly. “Fallon,” he says softly but his voice is laced with anger. “What happened?”
I swallow hard, my throat tight with emotion. “It’s nothing,” I whisper, trying to pull away, but his grip remains firm. I can feel his control slipping.
“Who did this to you?” he demands. My body tenses as I try to pull myself from his hold, but he’s not going to let me get anywhere without answers. Tears slide down my cheeks.
“Why do you even care? Because someone hurt me other than you?” I stammer. I don’t mean the words and I can see the hurt flash in his eyes.
His hand grips my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. They’ve turned molten with anger. I can feel it radiating off of him.
“I’ll only ask you one more time, Fallon. Who. Did. This. To. You?” His fingers press painfully into my jaw. Memories of that night haunt me already, and he’s forcing me to relive it.
“My fucking father,” I seethe. “Happy now? You got your fucking answer now leave me the fuck alone. Don’t you dare act like you care!” I cry out. The tears are falling heavy now, but not from sadness-from anger. I was wrong. I do hate Remington Frampton. I hate that we are forever connected because of our parents. But what I hate most of all, is the hate I feel towards him seems to be slipping into something else entirely. Something obscure, ominous even, yet addicting. Remy’s stormy expression moves from my stomach to my face.
“What did he do?” He presses me back into the shower wall, the cool tiles against my back send shivers through me. The words get caught in my throat. Do I even want to reveal those secrets?
His eyes bore into mine, filled with a mix of anger and concern. “Fallon,” he warns.
“He was attacking my mom. The screams are what woke me…” My mind drifts back to that scene. I remember the blood. It was everywhere. He had her on the ground, clutching her hair in his fist and the knife in the other.
Remy’s grip on my shoulders tightens, his face a mask of fury and pain. “What did he do?” he asks, his voice barely controlled.
“I tried to stop him,” I murmur, my voice shaking. “I grabbed the nearest thing I could find—a knife—and cut him with it. He turned on me, and that’s when I got this.” I gesture to the scar on my stomach, the memory of the knife slicing through my skin still vivid.
Remy’s eyes darken, and he pulls me into a fierce embrace. “I’m going to kill him.” It’s not an empty gesture, it’s a promise.
“He’s in prison, Remy. It’s done and over with. Just forget it, please.”
He brushes the hair from my forehead and traces the soft scar from my scalp to my eyebrow. My breath hitches in my chest.
“Did he do this too?” His question is laced with venom.
“N-no. That was…an accident,” I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. His eyes, dark and stormy, search mine for the truth.
“An accident?” he repeats, his fingers still lingering on the scar. “You expect me to believe that?”
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his gaze. “Yes. It was a long time ago. I was surfing and… I hit my head on a coral reef and I almost drowned.”
His expression softens, the anger in his eyes replaced by concern. “You almost drowned?” he echoes.
I nod, the memory of the waves crashing washing over me. “I was trying to surf, but–” I trail off, the words burning my throat. His grip on my shoulders tightens, urging me to continue, but I don’t think I can. I’ve already revealed so much. I feel like I’ve been flayed open, allowing Remy to see all of my darkness.
He pulls my chin up, forcing my eyes to meet his. I expect to see pity, but instead, he seems almost regretful.
“The pool.” It’s just two words, but holds so much impact. I drop my gaze, needing to look anywhere other than the intensity of his eyes. Now he knows why I’m afraid of water. I can see the wheels in his mind turning, like this new piece of information is finally clicking into place.
“So when I threatened to throw you back in…” he trails off, brushing his hand down his handsome face then looks up at the ceiling.
I can see the regret etched on his features, which almost seems comical since he’s been threatening me since day one.
“It’s ironic, isn’t it?” I say, a small, bitter laugh escaping my lips. “You’ve been tormenting me since the moment we met.”
Remy’s eyes soften slightly, but the intensity remains. “I won’t just forget it, Fallon. Knowing what you went through… it makes me want to protect you even more.”
“You want to protect me?” I ask, my voice tinged with disbelief.
Remy’s eyes lock onto mine, unwavering. “Yes, Fallon. I do. More than anything.”
I search his face, looking for any sign of insincerity, but all I see is determination and a hint of vulnerability. “Why?” I whisper. “Why do you care so much?”
He takes a deep breath, his hands gently cupping my face. “Because somewhere along the way, I realized that I don’t hate you. In fact, I think I might be falling for you.” My heart thunders in my chest at his declaration. I still feel like at any moment he’ll tell me it was a joke, and it was just another notch to his bullying.
Remy seems to sense my hesitation. He steps closer, his eyes filled with sincerity and pain. “Fallon, I know I’ve given you every reason to doubt me.” He seems to think for a moment then adds, “Let me show you.”
I’m trembling in Remy’s arms, as he carries me through the bathroom, then sits me on the edge of his bed. At some point, he wrapped a towel around me, which I pull tighter.
Remy drops to his knees in front of me, sliding his warm hands up my thighs. He pulls the towel away, then brings my hair to the side to dry it some before he tosses it over his shoulder.
“Talk to me,” he murmurs, his voice gentle yet insistent.
I look down at him, my heart pounding in my chest. “What do you want me to say?”
“Anything,” he replies, his hands still resting on my thighs. “I just want to know what’s going on in that head of yours.”
I try to find the words, but I don’t even know what I want to say. My mind is a swirl of emotions and memories, and I’m not sure where to start. So, I do the only thing I can. I crush my lips down on his, taking him by surprise, but it doesn’t take him long to take control like I knew he would.
“I don’t want to think. Just feel,” I whisper against his lips, and that’s all the encouragement he needs. He stands and presses me back against his bed.
“Scoot up.” He drops his towel, then crawls on the bed. My mouth waters at the sight of him, like it’s the first time. His perfect body glistens with water from the shower, and his hair is still damp and mussed like he’s been running his hands through it.
My knees fall open, showing him exactly where I want him. I’ve never been brazen, but something about Remy makes me feel empowered. Maybe it’s the way he looks at me like I’m the only one he ever sees.
“Tell me what you want.” His eyes have darkened with hunger, making a shiver run down my spine.
“You,” I whimper, needing his touch like I need air.
“Oh, I’m the only one you’re getting, but I want to know what you want me to do.” The wicked gleam in his eyes excites me.
“I need your mouth on me.” I look away, suddenly not sure I have what it takes to voice what I really want. He pulls my chin back, forcing my eyes on his.
“Where? I want to hear you say it.”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from screaming at him. He knows what I want, but he’s pushing me. Forcing me to voice my wants.
“I hate you,” I lie.
“Liar,” he smirks as his hand trails down my neck, between the valley of my breasts. He leans over, kissing the same path his hand just took. He’s slow and deliberate, then he stops at my scar. I try to turn away, but he presses me further into the mattress as he licks along the jagged edges of skin. The realization of what he’s doing is both terrifying and soothing. He continues further down my belly, nipping and licking the whole way.
“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” he admits against my hip bone.
“What? Fat?” I know as soon as the words leave my lips that I fucked up.
“What did you just say?” he growls, pinning my hands above my head. His heated gaze bores into mine, and I’m speechless.
“Remy, I didn’t mean—“ I start, but he cuts me off.
“Don’t you ever say that about yourself,” he snaps, his voice low and intense. “You’re not fat. You’re beautiful, sexy, and it kills me that you don’t see that.”
I swallow hard, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just… it’s hard to believe sometimes. Plus, I’ve seen the girls that you’re normal–”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Fallon.” I hear the warning in his tone, but I don’t understand why.
“What the hell is your problem? I’m just your stepsister. Once you get tired of me, you’ll cast me off like all the rest.” My heart is pounding in my ears and my breaths are coming out in pants. I’m so confused that I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Let me make myself perfectly clear. You. Are. Mine. Not just today, tomorrow or the next. Mine, Fallon,“ he snaps.
“Stop trying to control me!” I shout. I know I’m starting a fight, but maybe that’s what we need to start thinking clearly.
“Control you? Is that what you think this is about?”
I try to pull my hands free, but Remy’s hold is firm. “What else could it be? You think you can just order me around and I’ll follow like some obedient pet?”
Remy’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “It’s not about control, Fallon. It’s about us. About what we could be if you’d just stop fighting me.”
My heart pounds in my chest. “And what if I don’t want to be whatever it is you think we should be?”
He moves closer, his voice dropping low. “Then you’re lying to yourself. Because I see the way you look at me, the way you react when I’m near. You want this just as much as I do.”
I can feel my resolve wavering, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to think clearly. “Remy, this is wrong. We can’t just ignore everything and everyone else.”
Remy’s eyes soften slightly, his thumb still gently caressing my lips. “Maybe it’s not about ignoring them. Maybe it’s about finding a way to make this work despite everything else.”
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. He releases my hands and cups my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that started to fall.
My eyes open to see a vulnerability that I’ve never seen before. A softer side of Remy that I didn’t know existed. I’m getting sucked into Remy’s treacherous currents, and I know I’m already in too deep .
“Push me away all you want, but I’m not going anywhere.” His promise hangs in the air, wrapping around me like a soft embrace. He lays down beside me, pulling me back against his hard chest. He tucks us under the blanket, then wraps his arm around my middle, like he’s afraid I’ll run at my first chance. He’s probably right. I need to run, but I find myself melting into his tight hold.
Maybe this is going to backfire in my face, but at the moment I can’t seem to care.
They always say to look before you leap, but I dove head first into Remington Frampton, and I’m not coming up for air anytime soon.