Chapter 18 Marla
MARLA
When he finally released me to go get food, tears crested my eyes. My body felt so foreign to me. I hated it. I heard the bedroom door thunk closed. I’m pretty sure Ranger said something, but I didn’t catch it.
Smoke. That was the dog’s name. It turned it over in my head. It suited him.
The pounding between my legs was much too distracting.
I whimpered softly as I flopped onto my back.
I felt my thinned breasts jiggle against my chest. I felt my aching bones relaxing back against the mattress. It was such a triggering feeling, the pressure that I felt building up in my pelvis. I didn't like what I was going to have to do in order to relieve it, either. But the touch of his hands.
So soft.
So calm.
So… reassuring.
I didn't even realize my hand moved until I felt it slip beneath the band of the shorts that I was wearing. Goosebumps skittered across my skin. I tried to stay in my body. Tried to keep my breathing even. Just me. Just this.
It lasted about four seconds.
A memory cracked through like a fault line splitting open, and I ripped my hand back out like I'd touched something hot. My breath came jagged and fast as I pressed both palms flat against my stomach and stared up at the ceiling.
No.
No, no, no.
I squeezed my eyes shut and forced the air in through my nose. Out through my mouth. In. Out. I counted the little popcorn peaks on the ceiling even with my eyes closed because I'd been doing it so long I had the number memorized by now.
Thirty-one. Thirty-two. Thirty-three.
I hated what they'd done to me. Not just the things that happened. I hated what those things had done to this. To something that used to be mine. A body that used to be mine, that used to respond to things on my own terms.
I grimaced as my hand drifted back down to my hip. My fingertips rumbled over the scars there before sliding inward, and I raised my head from the pillow in confusion.
Until I saw my hip bone protruding.
Since when had I ever been able to see those?
My head flopped back down. I remembered a time in high school, when I saw all of the girls walking around with their hip bones out and those low-rise jeans. I wanted so badly to be one of the skinny girls. Popular, with flowing hair, just like they had.
Now I would've given anything to get my old body back.
"Okay," I whispered to myself. "Okay."
I tried again. Slower this time. More deliberate. I kept my eyes open and fixed on the ceiling, seeing things was grounding, I'd figured out. The ceiling didn't move. The ceiling stayed put.
Thirty-one peaks. Thirty-two.
My hand slipped back beneath the waistband.
A memory lurched forward immediately and I shoved it back behind its door with everything I had. Not now. Not here. Not in this bed.
I cast around for something else to hold onto instead.
And I found him.
That night at the bar. The dark booth. His disarming smile when he slid in across from me, his long hair and those patient brown eyes that didn't push, didn't demand, just waited to see what I wanted.
The way he let me choose. The way he gave me a door and stood back while I decided whether to walk through it.
I had walked through it.
I had chosen that.
The heat that moved through me now had nothing to do with anything that happened after I left.
It had everything to do with the fact that the man on the other side of that door — the man who had been tending to me with those careful, callused hands — was the same man who had been so deliberate with me that night.
Who had treated my body like it was worth something.
A soft moan slipped out before I could catch it.
My hips lifted, chasing the feeling, and I swirled my fingers slowly. A tremble worked its way up my thighs. My toes curled against the sheets.
And then the sensation faded.
I whimpered softly as my hips settled back down against the bed.
"Come on," I breathed.
I wasn't scared of the pleasure. I knew that now, with the memory of him still warm in my chest. What I was scared of was everything running alongside it, all the things I couldn't unlearn yet.
Relearning my own body felt like trying to navigate a house where someone had moved all the furniture in the dark.
I hated having to relearn my body. I hated having to relearn my brain. It was like meeting myself for the first time, and all I wanted was the comfort and familiarity of my own life back.
Before I knew of the darkness that surrounded Redd Valley.
“I’m not coming in.”
Ranger’s voice tore through my anxious thoughts and I gasped as I ripped my hand out from between my legs.
“Let me repeat myself,” he said as my head whipped toward the closed door, “I’m not coming in without permission.”
My breath sawed its way in and out of my lungs.
How much did he hear?
How long was he standing there? “I…”
I couldn’t find the words.
“Do you need help?” he asked.
I paused. “Help with—?”
It took a moment for the meaning of his phrase to dawn on me.
He… wanted to help me?
Did… I want that?
“I’ll stand here however long it takes for you to figure out what you want,” Ranger said through the closed door.
I stared at his bedroom door while I contemplated his words. Did I want him to come in? My stomach growled. Of course I wanted him to come in. Did I want his hands on me? My body shivered at the idea. Okay, so it wasn’t completely balking at that. Did I want his hands in between my legs, though?
I waited for my body to give me any sort of sign, and while my body didn’t jump at the opportunity, it wasn’t as if tears crested my eyes at the idea of it, either.
“I’ll stop whenever you say stop,” Ranger said, his voice a bit lower as it filtered through the door.
“Promise?” I asked.
“Promise, promise.”
I still didn’t know how to respond, though. “I don’t know, Miles.”
“That’s fine, that’s okay,” he said from behind the door. “How about this then? Why don’t I just slip through the door and place this food down for now? Give you a chance to have me in your space when you’re vulnerable. See how your body feels about that.”
How did he know?
How did he always know what I needed?
“Okay,” I whispered softly.
“Okay,” he said, repeating my words, “I’m coming in.”
I settled back down against the bed as I watched his bedroom door creak open. He nudged it open with his elbow before the massive tray of food came into view. I had to admit, it smelled good. The coffee and the orange juice. The pancakes and the bacon. Were those cheesy grits I smelled?
I hadn’t had cheesy grits in forever.
I watched Ranger’s nostrils flare, and I tilted my head. Could he smell me? Did I stink? I supposed I could take a shower. No, he couldn’t smell me. I didn’t smell that strong. Right?
I let my own nostrils flare, but all I smelled was the breakfast food.
“You ready for me to move?” he asked, his voice piercing my thoughts.
I nodded. “Are those cheesy grits that I smell?”
He smiled as he walked toward me. “They are, yeah. You like them?”
“Love them. They’re a comfort food of mine.”
“Me, too,” he said with a smile beneath his beard as he settled some of the bowls and plates onto the bedside table next to me. “Mom used to make it for me all the time, especially when I was sick.”
I smiled softly. “It was Dad for me.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded softly as he placed the tray of his food and drinks over on his desk.
He turned back to me.
I swallowed hard as he approached the bed.
“This okay?” he asked as he perched on the edge of it.
Dear God, I could’ve started a fucking forest fire with the heat pumping from between my thighs.
“Yeah,” I said softly.
He nodded. “Do you want me to just watch and talk you through it?”
I searched his beautiful eyes for such a long time. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want me to try sliding my hand beneath the covers? See how you feel about that?”
I didn’t trust my words. I didn’t trust my emotions. So I just chewed on my lower lip and nodded softly.
“Okay,” he said as he picked up his large, callused hand and wiggled it at me. “At any point in time, you can tell me to stop.”
I squeezed my thighs together. His fingers were so thick. “Okay.”
I watched his hand disappear beneath the covers and I squeezed my eyes closed. His fingertips graced the outside of my thigh, and I twitched.
“You good?” he asked.
I nodded quickly. “Sorry. Just…”
“Just wanted to check in,” he said as his hand slid over the hump of my upper thigh.
His touch was electric. It shot bolts of lightning through my system that I didn’t even register how quickly his hand had crept toward my pussy until I felt his fingertips breach my curls.
“So wet for me,” he murmured.
His voice made me shiver and I felt the bed dip.
I felt the hot breath from his lips trace along the shell of my ear. “This okay, beautiful?”
I had to bite back a whimper. “Yeah. It’s okay.”
“Good,” he muttered as his fingers slid through my wet curls.
“Oh,” I whispered softly.
“I’ve got you,” he muttered as he scooted me off to the side.
He shuffled his way onto the bed until he was perched on his side next to me. His finger slowly dipped in between my folds, and my hips damn near came off the fucking bed. My hands gripped the sheets of his bed. To my surprise, my thighs fell apart just a smidge.
“So wet for me,” he muttered against the shell of my ear. “I’ll help you remember what it means to feel good again.”
“Ranger,” I whimpered softly.
I felt his fingers brush against my clit.
“Oh God,” I said breathlessly.
“Theeeere she is,” he practically growled out.
Fucking hell, that sound. “Do that again.”
He chuckled before he kissed the shell of my ear mindlessly. “What? This?”
He let loose the softest growl against the shell of my ear, and goosebumps skittered across my skin. I felt my pussy physically pulse as his fingertips traveled to my entrance, swirling and slopping around.
“Not inside, not inside,” I said breathlessly, my body locking up.
“Ssshhh, sh, sh, sh, I gotcha,” he whispered as he brought his fingers back to my clit. “I gotcha. You’re doing so well, Marla.”
With every swirl around my clit, my body relaxed again. My eyes fell closed as whimpers fell with every circled stroke of his fingers. His calluses teased me. My clit ached with a need for release. I hadn’t felt like this in… well…
Since the last time Miles had me underneath his spell.
“Oh fuck,” I groaned out softly.
“That’s a good girl,” he growled against my ear. “Take your pleasure again. Take it back. Your body deserves it.”
“So good,” I whimpered as my hips bucked mindlessly against his hand.
“Mmmm,” he hummed before kissing the shell of my ear again. “I can’t wait to lick your juices off my fingers. Drench me, Marla. Make a mess that I’ll smell for days.”
“My God, that mouth,” I moaned as pleasure rocketed through my system.
I was so close.
I felt it building.
That tightness in my gut, coiling.
The pressure at my back, rising.
“One day when you’re more comfortable with it,” he whispered as his fingers worked in a steady, unfailing rhythm, “I’ll show you why you can trust my mouth down there, too.”
“Oh my God,” I choked out.
It slammed through me like a hot iron poke through ice. My orgasm picked up my lips and locked out my legs. My jaw unhinged with a silent pleasure that I couldn’t scream out.
And all the while, his fingers moved with me.
Worked me.
Steadily.
Until I panted for another round.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—”
“Such a good girl for me,” he said as he nuzzled into the crook of my neck. “Look at you, coming for me so easily. I bet you’ve got another one in you. Would you like another one, pretty girl?”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I whimpered out.
He slowed his rhythm as my back collapsed against the bed, and I almost missed it, the feeling of his fingers moving against my body. It didn’t last long, however. Just as I caught my breath, he spun back up, his fingers moving in a slow, lazy rhythm.
My body built its way back up from nothing.
“I’m so proud of you, Marla,” he whispered as he peppered the smallest kisses along my jawline. “You’re so brave. I’m in awe of you, I hope you know that.”
My body tensed and released as grunts and groans left my mouth. Did people hear us?
Did it even matter?
“I’m gonna shatter,” I whimpered.
“Shatter for me again, beautiful,” he whispered as he kissed my shoulder. “Let me see your face twisted with pleasure.”
“Don’t let me break, don’t let me break, don’t let me break,” I chanted breathlessly.
He slid his other arm beneath my head, pulling me closer as his legs wrapped around me. He trapped my legs closed with his hand stuck between my thighs, and his lips latched onto my neck. Sucking on my pulse point.
“Ranger,” I moaned out.
“Mmmm,” he hummed as his fingertip worked lightly, quickly, over the tip of my clit.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” I chanted out.
A groan bubbled up my throat as I fell over the edge.
“There it is,” he growled into my skin as I shook and shivered back against him. “There’s a good girl. So brave for me. Look at how beautiful you are, cumming against my hand.”
I lost myself to the euphoric sensations of the darkness that had overtaken my vision.
Pleasure coursed its way through my veins until I collapsed, shivering and whimpering uncontrollably.
My muscles ached. My calves were sore from my toes being so curled up.
I felt his hand slither from beneath the band of the basketball shorts, and I did my best to open my eyes.
Only to see the world above me spinning.
“So long as I am holding you, beautiful,” he muttered against the shell of my ear, “you will never break.”
I couldn’t help the tears that crested my eyes as he wrapped me up with his arms.
The breakfast food, long forgotten about.