Chapter 13 Neil #2
“And…are you done now?” he said, playing along like I was a crazy person, which I was not.
Or was I?
“I think so. For the moment.” I shrugged as he blinked in bewilderment. An odd silence fell over us as the Boy’s voice still vibrated in my head.
“Do you want something to eat?” My brother swallowed hard, standing motionless. He knew that I wasn’t in my right mind and that one false move could trigger me in ways I wouldn’t be able to control.
“No,” I answered rapidly, ignoring my hunger. How long had it been since I’d last eaten?
Maybe that was why I felt lightheaded and so worn-out?
“You’re really pale and—” he began.
“And I need a good fuck,” I finished for him, and he gasped like I’d taken the lord’s name in vain.
Logan knew me very well and knew what I meant: I needed to relive my trauma to take possession of myself again.
I felt uneasy and profoundly troubled.
My eyes screamed my suffering at him.
“It’s not the solution, you know,” he murmured wretchedly.
I wasn’t having sex with the blonds as often as I’d used to. I’d been focusing on Selene lately, and now I was starting to lose the thread. I was really starting to feel the weight of everything pressing down on me: Player, his email to Selene, the webcam…
I couldn’t deal with all of that, let alone the Boy on top of it.
Whenever he showed up, he defeated me, and I sank back into the depths.
The only way to survive, the only way to reaffirm my value, was to seduce an ever-shifting roster of women and hurl myself into degrading sexual situations.
I used my masculine appeal to overpower them and then observed, cold and detached, their erotic dependence on me, the same kind that I, as a child, had developed upon Kim.
Even though I knew better intellectually, I still couldn’t help the feeling sometimes that it was my fault.
I couldn’t stop telling myself that maybe I just wasn’t as good as the other kids, maybe I deserved what I got.
“Do you want me to go, then?” Logan didn’t take a step. He remained on alert, watching my every move. That was the emotion I inspired in my brother: fear.
“Yes,” I confirmed. No. I didn’t want him to go.
I didn’t want to be alone in my misery. I didn’t want to give in to the twisted compulsion to which I had been enslaved for so long.
When Logan finally shut the door behind him, I angrily stubbed out my cigarette in the ashtray and threw myself down on the bed. It was still cold in there, and I wouldn’t have minded getting a woman to warm me up. But that woman shouldn’t be Jennifer nor any of my other blonds.
It should be…Tinkerbell.
Fuck.
I wanted my Neverland and no one else. I wanted her silken skin, her clear eyes, and her coconut smell.
I’d left her all alone in Detroit, and I yearned to see her again, to make sure she was alright.
I wanted her. I was crazy, yes. Crazy for her.
I rubbed my forehead, which felt overstuffed with thoughts and fears. I needed to turn my brain off.
I was too tense, too anxious, too tightly wound.
How could she accept a person like me?
Just then, I heard a knock at the door.
I stood up, alert, but didn’t otherwise move.
It obviously wasn’t Logan because he would have just walked in. After two more firm knocks, I got up with an animal growl of irritation.
I didn’t bother putting on a pair of boxers; whoever was at my door could get a look at my cock in all its glory.
I dragged myself over to the door, fully irritated, and when I opened it…
It was a vision or maybe a hallucination.
“I know. I should have waited for you to reach out to me, but…” That soft, feminine voice could belong to no one but Babygirl.
My Babygirl.
I furrowed my brow and shivered at the cold air against my exposed body.
Then, when I had finally accepted that my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, I snatched her by the waist and pulled her inside, slamming the door behind us.
I pulled her to me in a headlong rush. The need to fuse with her, to drug myself with her smell, became overpowering, and she moaned as my arms wrapped around her slim body.
“Well, this is quite a welcome. I’m glad to see you too,” she chuckled.
The last time we saw each other, I’d smashed her computer and left her alone in her room…
Nothing… I couldn’t catch my breath; I couldn’t form a thought.
“Shut up, Tinkerbell.” I cupped her face in my hands and stared into her eyes.
The blue ocean of them washed over me, leaving me stunned.
The tip of her nose was rosy. I pressed a chaste kiss against it to warm it up, and then I did the same to her chapped and swollen lips before licking and biting them wildly. She groaned, clutching my back.
I felt her nails poking into my flesh, but her touch didn’t trouble me. It was the only one I accepted.
Instinctively, I lifted her up. She let out a little yelp and clung to my neck as she scrambled to wrap her legs around my hips.
“I’m glad you’re here…” I murmured, carrying her across the room to the bed.
There were so many questions I wanted to ask her: Had her mother known she was coming to New York to see me? Was she planning to stay and clear things up with her father?
But I wasn’t capable of having a conversation just then—I’d get to it later.
I wanted her hot and naked underneath me. Immediately. No waiting.
All I wanted was to bury myself in her and forget about all my problems.
I threw her down on the mattress and straddled her.
Selene, whose breathing had already sped up, seemed surprised. I began eagerly undressing her like I was unwrapping a Christmas present. I didn’t give a shit about her clothes; I just needed to access her body—a body that was, little by little, becoming my newest addiction.
She let me do it without any hesitation.
“You were so freaked out when you left, and I…” she paused as I continued to peel layers off her with shaking fingers. “I was afraid… I wanted to see you.” A gasp.
Me too…
I wanted to see her too.
Because I needed her.
I needed her to help me forget my history and remember that there was more to this world than just nightmares.
I needed her to help me forget the slaps and punches I’d taken and learn that kisses and gentle touches also existed.
I needed her to exorcise my demons and draw me into her light.
I needed her to help me forget the woman who had consumed me and to collect the pile of ash I had become.
I needed her to help me forget the scars on my body and her kisses to soothe the hurt from them.
I needed her to help stop dying every day and perhaps come back to life, little by little.
I needed her because I had left my heart with her.
Even though it was broken, even though it was a defective old clunker, rotten and in pieces.
Even though it was soiled.
I had left it with her anyway.
Because I wanted it to be hers.
Maybe it always had been.
In the midst of this utter confusion, I confessed something impossible to her. “I’m yours,” I whispered, incapable of controlling myself. Then I bent to kiss her. I was frenzied; I wasn’t myself, and I could no longer hold back what I felt inside.
I wasn’t going to talk about feelings with Selene. I wasn’t going to change my ideas about love, but she knew me, she accepted me, and…and she’d been doing it for a while.
I knew perfectly well that I’d acted like a real bastard. If Selene had the guts to seek me out even after hearing about all the things that were wrong with me, after being threatened by a murderous hacker because of me, then she deserved to truly be with me.
At least until I left for Chicago, which I was going to tell her about very soon.
Once she was nude and free of any encumbering clothing, I quit kissing her and just looked her all over.
That perfectly proportioned body that made me feel like I’d just shotgunned a bottle of whiskey.
Those small, firm breasts—just the way I liked them—rising and falling with each breath.
Her lean torso, dotted with the occasional beauty mark, and her soft pubis, where I lingered hungrily.
She blushed even though I’d already done everything to her and knew her every curve by heart.
Then, I gave her a wicked smile as I prepared to devour her whole.
I went back to kissing her, insinuating my hips between her thighs.
She moved underneath me, eager to have me.
She caressed my biceps and my back, trailing down my pecs, and she deepened the kiss, moving her tongue forcefully against mine.
She was just as aroused as I was. I proved that to her, rubbing my erection between her outer lips, which I could feel were already wet and ready to envelop me.
“The way you smell…” she observed, sliding her mouth along my jaw. She bit me gently before sucking on the curve of my throat, making me moan slightly. I didn’t like to waste time on fumbling juvenile foreplay, but Babygirl enjoyed it and I could be patient.
I looked into her ocean eyes, gleaming with arousal, as I propped myself up on my elbows on either side of her head. Her auburn hair spread out across the pillow, and her cheeks grew redder and redder.
With a tentative smile, she began to trace my pecs with her tongue, embarrassed, even now, by her desire. In a brief moment of clarity, I thought that perhaps I shouldn’t fuck her after all. I wasn’t gentle, and I wouldn’t take it easy on her this time either.
“Selene…” My breath caught as I felt her hot, wet tongue laving my collarbone.
“I’m too wound up today…” I whispered apprehensively, though the uncertainty in my voice was belied by the throbbing between my legs.
“I don’t want to hurt you…” And I couldn’t figure out what was holding me back.
I typically never cared to explain myself, and I didn’t try to have a chat before fucking, didn’t feel the need to forge an emotional connection… but, with her, it was different.
I didn’t want to just use her as an object. I didn’t want to vent my frustration on my body anymore.