Chapter 11
Eleven
Finally
Before today, I considered myself a patient person. Someone who played the long game, and explored the options before jumping to a decision. Someone who would wait for the right moment before making my move.
No longer.
Not only did Eris linger over our leisurely dinner of pizza and wine (flirting and teasing me with footsie under the table, while I barely kept my composure), but ze insisted I shower the second we were back, pressing me against the bathroom door and murmuring, “Take some space to think this through. Think about what you want, how far you want this to go, what I can do to make this good for you.”
I’ve never showered quicker in my damn life.
Maybe I should have more whiplash considering two weeks ago, Eris was the most annoying person alive.
But I don’t. My eagerness surpasses any reservation.
I don’t care what Eris and I do, I just want to do it.
There’s a sense of surety with each rushed movement to finish up in the bathroom, an undercurrent of finally finally finally pounding in my veins that I should find more confusing than I do.
Mere hours ago, we were dancing around each other.
While Eris showered, I raced to change before the water turned off.
We didn’t acknowledge the shift between us after the car ride.
Eris only reconfirmed the limits of affection we agreed on: physical touch and holding hands, flirting, and quick pecks if the situation called for a kiss.
What happened against the wall earlier was within those boundaries, technically.
But we never discussed what might happen behind closed doors—I never considered that an option until an hour ago, when the comforting grip of Eris’s hands and no-nonsense honesty brought me back to myself.
I’m relieved we didn’t limit ourselves, because now I want everything.
With no answers to zis questions or my own, I slip a tank top and boxers on my still-damp body, unwrapping my curls from the shower cap as I step out with a cloud of steam.
Adorned in a red silk tank top and shorts with zis long hair loose, Eris is waiting on the bed I claimed when we settled in earlier. Ze pats the duvet next to zim. “Come here.”
With a heavy swallow, I lie on my side, hoping I don’t look as ungainly as I feel climbing onto the bed.
Unsure what to do—because I’ve only ever done this with Matt before, and all my attempts at a rebound never made it past a kiss—I wait.
With Matt, sex was as easy and natural as breathing.
With Eris, I’m breathless and trembling.
Eris’s eyes trace my body, lingering on the scars that line and twist along my right leg from the thigh down my shin, almost to my ankles. “What’s up with your knee?”
“That’s not a good foreplay story,” I quip.
Eris grins. “Tell it anyway. I’m curious what got your himbo ex so worked up about it that he still feels entitled to tell you what shoes to wear.”
I groan, impatient. “It was the summer after eighth grade. We weren’t supposed to bike on the highway, but he wanted to go swimming.
A delivery driver got distracted, lost control, and pinned me by my leg against a tree.
I’m lucky to be alive and still have a leg, but the dairy company the guy worked for paid out enough money to put me through law school. ”
“Is that why you don’t eat dairy?” Eris teases. Zis calloused fingers trace the scars on my knee, numb except where some nerves have regrown.
“No, I’m just lactose intolerant,” I snort.
“Anyway, I started high school in a wheelchair, and I used crutches or canes until senior year. If it weren’t for Matt, I probably would have been bullied to hell for being a nerd, goth, stoner, cripple, the list goes on.
But he was super popular, so being his girlfriend protected me from the worst of it.
Which is why he’s a fucking mother hen now.
He blames himself for the accident, so he basically appointed himself as my protector and physical therapist.”
“I’m sorry, you were goth?” Eris grins in delight.
“That’s what you got out of that?” I laugh.
“No, I just wore a lot of black. That’s basically goth in Solberg.
I wouldn’t call myself a cripple either, but everyone in school did.
” I sigh, wondering how we ended up discussing my complicated relationship with being disabled instead of fucking.
But Eris wants to hear feelings, so… “The hardest part was losing my independence. I was always such a tomboy—in hindsight, maybe a sign I wasn’t cis—and my dad is disabled, with cerebral palsy.
So growing up, I always got to do the ‘boy’ things like mow the lawn and fix the chicken coop, all the stuff that he had trouble doing. He always supervised.”
I laugh softly because my dad wasn’t a good supervisor either.
He always got distracted by the bird feeders.
“And after the accident, Matt did all of those things. And I had to watch him be my dad’s son, while my mom pushed me into being her daughter.
Which she’d been doing since I started middle school anyways, telling me it was time to grow up and stop running around without a bra.
” I chuckle, a little sardonic. “Except it was worse, because Mom treated me like I was helpless and fragile, all while pushing me to be more feminine. I don’t think she meant to infantilize me, because she doesn’t with my dad, but she did.
So did my dad, and the rest of Solberg, even Matt in some ways.
I think I’m more bitter about that than being unable to walk for the first year of high school. ”
Eris nods, humming in acknowledgment. Thankfully, ze doesn’t ask anything else, though I do wonder what lies behind zis thoughtful expression.
Kneeling on the bed, ze picks up my leg, bending and flexing it with zis hands.
My pale skin dips under zis fingers, and a quiet buzz of pain radiates up my thigh. “Does this hurt?”
“Little bit,” I admit. “I do stretches and strength training, but I’ve fallen out of the habit with school. I only do them when the pain is bad.”
With another quiet nod, Eris stretches and pushes my leg until I’m rolled onto my back. Zis doe eyes examine my knee, occasionally flicking up to check for my reaction. “So this hurts, but you’re not stopping me.”
I shake my head. “The pain is there anyway. I’m used to it.”
Eris scowls, getting off the bed to dig through zis bag. “There you go, being a doormat again.”
“I’m not being a doormat. I just…” Annoyance flashes through me. “You don’t have to be so careful with me!”
“No, Blake, I do. But not the way you think.” Eris returns with a jar full of yellow gel, kneeling between my legs.
“Just some CBD.” Ze takes the ankle of my injured leg and rests my foot on zis shoulder.
“I won’t baby your knee, but you’re so…obedient.
And I love that, Bambi, I really do. I want to make you do all sorts of filthy things for me.
” Ze unscrews the jar and dips two fingers into the goo, wiping it on my knee before using both hands to spread it up and down my leg.
“Like what?” My belly pools with heat as ze stares at me, hands working the gel into my skin, massaging the scar tissue.
Eris smirks as zis fingertips press deep into the tight muscles of my thigh and calf.
“I want you bent over on your knees, begging for me to fuck you. To call you my little slut, and slap that fat ass of yours until it’s red and raw and hurts like hell to sit in a church pew tomorrow.
But I need to know that you want that. I need to trust that you’ll tell me when you don’t like something, or when something hurts in a way you don’t want.
I need you to tell me when you like what I’m doing to you. ”
I nod, growing wetter by the second, relieved we’re back on track. The anticipation is killing me. “I can do that.”
“Then tell me, Bambi,” Eris kisses my ankle, hand skimming up my legs to pull my hips tight against zim. I can feel how hard ze is through the thin fabric of our shorts, right where I want zim. “What do you want?”
“Kiss me?” My breath is so shallow, it comes out hesitant.
“Trust me, Bambi, that’s just the start,” Eris smirks. “And then?”
I gape in confusion. Maybe I should have thought about this more in the shower, but I want to do all of the things Eris said and more. “I want everything.”
“What’s everything?” Eris challenges, crawling over me.
My leg folds over zis shoulder and my hips rise to meet zis.
“Should I take you like this, all sweet and vanilla, kissing when we come? Or fuck you on your knees with your screams muffled by the pillow?” That gravelly voice is husky in my ear, making me shiver.
“You want pain with your pleasure, or do you want me to worship you and drown in your pussy?”
Like stepping in cold water with socked feet, that word dims my buzzing euphoria. “Not that word, but yes to everything else.”
Eris beams, rewarding me with a roll of zis hips between my thighs, sending shockwaves through my body. “Good Bambi, tell me what you want me to call this.”
I shake my head, unsure of how to answer. “It’s just…just a hole. Or cunt. Clit is fine.”
“Just a hole, huh?” Eris raises an eyebrow. “Like the good toy you are. Anything else you want me to know? Anything you like to be called, or a way you want me to touch you?”
A glow warms my chest and I fight a smile; this self-proclaimed asshole is being so careful with me. “Try not to cup my chest, but yes. Touch me there. Everywhere.”
Eris’s hand slides under my tank top, thumb circling my nipple and fingers splayed across my sternum. “Like this?”
I nod, arching into zis touch, still in disbelief that this is happening, that I want this, need Eris as much as I do. “Or harder.”
With a grin, Eris pinches it, and a grunt escapes me. My thighs clench around zim.