Chapter 13 #2
She got into the truck, rage pouring through her veins. Her pulse was pounding. She swallowed hard, then started the truck engine, and began to drive out of town. She knew where she was going. For better or worse. Worse, almost definitely. Disastrously, probably, in fact.
But there was nothing else to do. She knew that now. She had tried this. This idea that she could blaze a trail in a whole different direction. That she could claim her autonomy, her attraction for herself by detaching it from Nolan.
No. She had to accept it. He was a demon, and he needed to be exorcised directly. Even if it hurt.
It might hurt.
Just the once. Just the one time, she just needed to do it once. And then she could let it go forever.
She hated him for that. She really did. In fact, even as she drove to his house to sleep with him, she had never hated Nolan more.
She drove up the dirt road that led to his place like there was fire behind her, and like she was trying to outrun it. She pulled up, and slammed her brakes on quickly, skidding slightly on the gravel.
Then she got out and closed the door, walking up to the front and beginning to knock, except he opened it.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh, don’t play innocent,” she said. She started to move toward him, and he stepped to the side, allowing her to brush past him. “You know exactly why I’m here.”
“I don’t, or I would have done something other than ask you why you were...” He paused for a moment. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”
“Yes, Nolan, I am supposed to be on a date. But that date is ruined.”
“Is it?” He didn’t sound sad, and he didn’t sound ashamed.
“Yes.” She launched herself forward then, poked him right in the chest. “It’s ruined because of you. Because you couldn’t... Just... Not be you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You know what you did. You kissed me. You kissed me, and I felt more when you kissed me than I did when Jason kissed me when I showed up at the bar, and I can’t let that go.
I just... How am I supposed to sleep with him when I already know that it’s not going to be as good as the kiss that you gave me out back behind the barn? ”
“It won’t be,” he said, his eyes burning into hers. “I’m glad you realized that.”
“Well, it’s fucked. All of it. We weren’t...”
“I know,” he said, taking a step toward her. “I know.” The second time he said it, it was like a prayer, a groan, a surrender.
He wrapped his arm around the back of her head and pulled her close, kissed her hard. Long.
And she melted.
This was like the kiss at the barn, except nobody could come and discover them.
Except, she wasn’t telling herself that there was a date in the future that was going to be better than this.
That was going to take the magic away from this.
There was no date. She had tried it, it had failed miserably.
And now she was here, in his house, in his arms.
There had been so many things that she’d wished for when she was a kid.
A new pink bike with tassels on the handlebars.
A mom who didn’t drink every night and pass out on the couch.
A birthday cake with lavender frosting. And she hadn’t gotten any of them.
But she had wished for Nolan. That he would kiss her. That he would think she was beautiful.
And here she was. Kissing him.
Here he was, thinking she was beautiful.
She nearly sobbed then and there, but she tried to just keep focusing on kissing him. Because it was so good. Because it was everything she had wanted for so long.
And now it was finally happening. Finally.
It was all going to send them to hell. Everything about it was bad and wrong and it was going to destroy the family and...
And she just didn’t care.
This time he was the one that backed her against a wall, mouth hot and insistent on hers, hands roaming over her curves.
She had never felt quite so beautiful in all of her life. She would never have thought of her breasts, her hips as curves, not until Nolan’s hands slid over them.
It was so wonderful, so perfect.
She could barely breathe.
She didn’t want to breathe.
She wanted to drown.
The kiss grew deeper, more intense. He didn’t take off her clothes, didn’t take off any of his.
He did take her hand, pull her away from the wall, lead her to the couch. Sat her down. Kept on kissing her.
There was a strange sort of giddy excitement that overtook her then. Making out on a couch. It was like some sort of teenage ritual that she had never gotten around to, and now it was happening.
But then the giddiness dissolved. Replaced entirely by heat.
She moved her hands over his chest, and then she was the one who found herself pulling at his clothes, because she wanted to see him, more than that, she wanted to touch him.
She pulled his shirt up over his head, and marveled.
All that muscle, his chest hair, she had seen him shirtless several times in the last few weeks, and now, she got to put her hands on him. She couldn’t help but watch. Watch as her fingertips skimmed over his pectoral muscles, down his abs.
She was touching him. It wasn’t a dream, because she would never have known how to imagine it quite this vivid, quite this visceral. She wouldn’t have known exactly how hot his skin would be, the way that the hair would feel there under her fingertips. She would never have been able to imagine it.
“I have wanted this...” The words were pulled from her, a confession that she hadn’t wanted to make, and yet one she couldn’t afford to keep to herself anymore.
Because she had wanted this.
She had wanted it for so long.
It was part of who she was. As much as she wanted to pretend that it wasn’t. It was a key building block in the makeup of Lila Grayson.
She had discovered desire because of Nolan.
And now she needed to work through that. Figure out what it meant. And she couldn’t do it any other way, the idea that she might have been able to was laughable.
But he had never.
He surprised her by grabbing her waist and lifting her up, bringing her over the top of him and onto his lap.
She was straddling him like he was a horse, and she could feel how hard he was, right there in between her thighs.
She whimpered, rolled her hips against his, because now they didn’t have to pretend that’s not what they were doing.
Now they didn’t have to pretend.
But she was the one that had been pretending, of course, not him.
She didn’t know when he had started wanting her. If it was all only... She didn’t want to ask. There would be time, after. Or maybe they would never be able to speak to each other again. Maybe everything would be broken.
“Fuck,” he growled, and she was afraid that that was it. That he was going to stop everything. Except he pushed her skirt up her thighs, exposing her underwear.
“Oh,” she said, her voice coming out in a rush.
“I need this dress off,” he growled.
And she couldn’t move quick enough to try to accommodate him. But she didn’t really need to help. He pulled it up over her head. And that was when she remembered she didn’t have a bra on.
He swore again, but this time with reverence.
His hands moved around to her back, and he was just staring at her, eyes fixed on her breasts.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he said.
“They’re not very big,” she said.
“So what?” he asked.
“I thought that was kind of the whole thing. That they needed to be really big.”
“No. They just need to... These are perfect. You’re perfect.”
He had seen a lot of breasts. Oddly, probably more breasts than she’d ever seen, so she was going to have to trust him on that.
He moved his hands over them, thumbs skimming across her nipples, and she shuddered.
The feeling was so intense. So much more than she had ever imagined it could be.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and need arced through her.
His hands were rough. And she loved it.
Because she knew why they were rough. She had done all that hard work with him. Though, for the first time ever, she was a little bit self-conscious about the fact that her own hands were rough. Except Nolan knew why. He knew her.
Which was both terrifying and comforting all at once. It might have been easier to do this with a stranger. Knowing that it was Nolan’s hands on her body, it was the most arousing thing she could have ever thought of, but it was also a little bit frightening.
Like, she was supposed to give herself over to this? To completely surrender herself while this man that she had known for so long watched her do it. That was scary.
But it was too late to turn back now. Scarier, she had decided, was living her whole life without ever experiencing this. That was the thing that she couldn’t bear.
Then he lowered his head, sucked one nipple deep into his mouth, and she arched against him, gasping. She nearly lost it. Nearly got up and ran away.
But he held her there, sucked on one nipple while he teased the other with his thumb.
He knew what he was doing.
And she could be grateful for that.
She was grateful for that.
His body was a playground, and she had no idea what all she could do with it.
She needed more than one time. She was desperate for more than one time, but how could she have that? How?
But then, she couldn’t worry, because he picked her up off the couch, and she squeaked. He wrapped his arms around her, wrapped her legs around his waist, and started to carry her away from the living room.
“Bed,” he said.
“I have condoms in my purse,” she said.
He chuckled. “I have condoms.”
“How many women have you had sex with in your bed?”
He froze for a second. She deeply wished that she hadn’t asked that question.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Because I won’t be thinking of them. I’ll be thinking of you. That’s all.”
That had to be enough. And she had to let it be true.
He pushed open the bedroom door, laid her down on the bed, and she swallowed hard, painfully aware that she was wearing the flat shoes she had put on earlier, that weren’t even all that cute, and her underwear, and that was it.
But he was looking at her like she was beautiful.