—TWENTY-FIVE—
The lights flicker off, and my blood runs cold.
“Melody?” I can just make out her shadowy silhouette as she finds her way back to the couch, slinking through the cloak of darkness that has filled the space. The moon from the open window behind her provides a sheer backlight while she inches her way closer. Melody hesitates for a moment when she reaches my parted legs, my belt still loose around my waist, button unfastened. For a moment I think she’s going to settle in beside me, but she straddles me instead. Her knees climb up on either side of me, caging in my thighs, her dress riding up her hips and inviting my hands to grip her waist, pulling her further into my lap. “What are you doing?”
Melody leans in, brushing a delicate kiss to my forehead. Her fingers graze up along my jawline until she’s cradling my face in her palms like I fucking mean something to her. “The dark is the very best secret-keeper. The things we say in the dark never have to leave it.”
I feel myself melting, liquefying in her hands, my brittle outer layers flaking and splintering. Her touch is calming, and the feel of her pressed into me, her breath coasting along my upper lip, causes me to wrap my arms around her middle and release an expulsive sigh.
She told me to follow my instincts, but my instincts have always urged me to lurk in the shadows and build shatterproof walls. Vulnerability is poison. Emotions are toxic. Becoming soft is a solicitation for pain and disappointment.
My instincts have never once demanded reckoning for the demons I’ve kept buried for so long. They’ve never encouraged me to exorcize them, to find solace and healing in another human being.
But Melody found a way in. She’s breached me somehow, and all I want to do is eradicate every little thing that has soiled my veins for nearly three decades. Every cruel word and beating. Every cigarette burn. Every insult, every slap, every bee sting and papercut.
Every second spent in that fucking closet wishing for death.
Melody dusts both thumbs over my cheekbones, her face only inches from mine. Her thighs grip me, her hair splaying over both shoulders like an added curtain. “I won’t force you, Parker… it’s okay if you’re not ready,” she breathes out gently, her words only adding to my desire to spill my guts. “But if you are, I’m listening.”
“I want to, I just…” I swallow, my eyes closing. “Fuck, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
She slides her hands down my face until they’re resting on my shoulders. “Tell me who she is.”
“What?”
“In your bedroom… you said that you’ll never be him, and I’ll always be her.”
My mother’s face flashes through my mind, a mask of evil. Yellow eyes, like the Devil himself. I thought maybe she was once—the Devil—until I learned that alcoholism discolors the sclera of one’s eyes. I realized she was only a vile, selfish human who threw her only child away like he was trash; who whittled him down to almost nothing. Heaving in a ragged breath, I croak out, “My mother.”
Melody tightens her hold on my shoulders, a little gasp breaking through. “She was abusive?”
“Yeah. My father passed away when I was five years old—he was a structural worker, iron and steel. He built tall ass buildings and shit.” Chewing my inner cheek, I force myself to continue. “He fell on the job one day. Died on impact, from what I was told.”
“Oh, my God…” Melody presses another kiss to my forehead, sighing deeply. “That’s awful.”
“Yeah, it fucking sucked. We were close. It was just me and him, and our mutt, Roscoe. I still remember the cops showing up that afternoon. The babysitter made this horrible screeching sound that I can still hear, clear as day. She took in our dog, and I begged for her to take me, too. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.”
Her head shakes back and forth in disbelief, her hair tickling my face. “Did you go to live with your mother then?”
I nod. “She ran off with some asshole right after I was born, leaving me with my father. She gained full custody when he died, and that was when my life completely fucking changed.”
Memories pour over me, from those first few days of loss and confusion, to worry and anxiety, to constant bone-chilling fear.
“Her name was Roxanne,” I continue, dropping my head to the back of the couch, my fingers grazing up and down Melody’s spine. “She was an alcoholic—the real mean and nasty kind. She’d smack me around just for fun, pinch me, pull my hair and make me cry. I think she got off on that shit.”
“God, Parker…”
My jaw clenches, my body stiffening, yearning to throw my walls back up. “Her favorite thing to do was burn me with the butts of her cigarettes. I’d scream and beg for her to stop, but it only made her laugh. Sometimes I can still smell it… acrid and metallic. Smelled like death.”
Melody sniffles, and I think I see a soft reflection of tearstains tracking down her cheeks. She glides her hands to my neck.
“She would go on these benders, locking me in my bedroom closet for days with a sandwich and a glass of water. No flashlight, no toys or games, nothing. It was pitch-fucking-black in there, to the point where my mind would play all these tricks on me. I’d see things. I’d create things. I had this imaginary friend…” I falter with an unsteady breath, regrouping. “I’d have full-blown conversations with fucking shadows. And then I actually thought I was dying—it had been days since I’d seen her or even heard anything outside the door. Sometimes I would hear yelling or laughter, or things falling, breaking… you know? I was certain she’d forgotten about me and disappeared, just like she disappeared on my father.
“Turns out she was dead. Drank her sorry self to death. A neighbor came by to check on us when she hadn’t seen us for a while, and found her in the kitchen. I heard the neighbor scream, so I started pounding on the closet door with all the strength I had left. I tried to scream myself, but I couldn’t… I could hardly even breathe or keep myself upright.”
I feel Melody’s knees tremor against my outer thighs, her fingers quivering along the nape of my neck. Her forehead presses into mine as she inhales slowly. “I don’t know what to say,” she admits quietly.
“There’s nothing to say. I’ve never told anyone about this before—not willingly, anyway. Just the cops. And my sister, Bree, a long time ago.”
She sniffs. “You have a sister?”
“Foster sister. She’s honestly been the only good thing in my life.”
Until you came along.
“This is why you’ve never been in a relationship? Why you don’t like women?” Melody wonders, somehow inching closer to me.
Swallowing, my hands fall down her back, landing at her hips. My silence fills the space between us, my answer evident. I don’t want her pity, or her tears. I’m not used to shit like that, and I have no idea what to do with any of it.
Truthfully, I’m not sure what I want or what I’m looking for, but the way she’s holding me right now, wrapping me up in her warm limbs with the kind of affection I used to crave all those years ago… it’s enough. It’s a calm I haven’t felt since I was just a little boy on my father’s front porch as a gentle breeze rolled in, causing the daylily petals to dance to life.
Fleeting beauty. The most precious kind.
Melody nuzzles her nose into the crook of my shoulder, her tears dampening my skin. “You like me, though,” she concludes in a raspy breath.
I let out a choppy sigh, instinctively holding her closer, losing myself in her warmth, in her citrus scent. She’s the only beam of light in this dark room—my only escape.
She’s my moon.
“I’m not her, Parker,” Melody murmurs near my ear, making me shudder. “I would never hurt you.”
Fuck, I know she’s not her. She’s nothing like her.
Melody March is a fucking revolution, and she’s come to overthrow everything I’ve ever trained myself to believe about women, about intimacy, about… hope.
Maybe hope isn’t toxic.
Maybe she is hope, with hair made of cotton, eyes like the sea, and a mouth I haven’t stopped thinking about since she gifted me with that very first smile.
Sliding one hand up her back, I twist my fingers through her hair, tugging her head back until our faces are aligned. I blink through the layer of darkness between us, eyes adjusting, making out the faint glistening of tears staring back at me. Her lips part, welcoming me, tempting me, as her fingers curl around the base of my neck. I dip in closer until our noses touch. “I’m falling for you,” I breathe against her lips, almost grazing them. “But I don’t know how to fall without crashing and burning.”
Melody makes a sound, a little gasp, her hands rising up to clasp my face again. She arches her body into me, whispering, “I’ll catch you.”
Those three words seduce me, and I move in, our lips lightly brushing together, just like they did in her dark basement. The only other time someone tried to kiss me was when I was fifteen years old—one of Gwen’s friends, who was dared to. Set up to humiliate me. The moment our lips touched, the girl yanked my shirt up, displaying my scars to her gaggle of girlfriends.
A cruel prank, designed to tear me down, strip me of any remaining trust, and force me into the shadows where I eventually learned to thrive.
Until she found me.
Starlight and moonshine.
The perfect complement to the dark.
Melody shivers as I hold her, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other gripping her waist. Our lips touch so delicately, so curiously, a prelude to something profound. Unsteady breaths mingle together, heartbeats hurried, bodies buzzing. She makes this sexy little humming noise when I taste her bottom lip, gently pulling it between my teeth. Our pelvises grind together, our grip on each other tightening.
My hands find their way to her face, cradling her jaw, and I pull back to trace my thumbs along both lips, memorizing the shape as my gaze follows. “This mouth has captivated me since the first day you smiled in my direction, all sweetness and sunbeams. It fucking pissed me off.”
She shivers. “You think about my mouth?”
“More than I care to admit.” Her body buzzes with anticipation, waiting for me to take that kiss she’s been dying to give me. I dodge her lips to trail my tongue along her jawline, nicking her skin with my teeth. “I’ve thought about how your mouth would feel against mine, and if your lips were as soft as that look I’d always see in your eyes when you’d watch me.” Gliding my tongue back down, she arches her neck with a moan. “I’ve thought about it wrapped around me.” I nip at her jaw again. “I’ve jerked off a hell of a lot of times picturing that pretty mouth sucking me off.”
Melody turns to putty in my hands, and I feel her wetness seeping through my denim jeans.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” I finish, dragging my fingers up to her silky mane of hair, scratching her scalp. “Then I’m going to fuck you.”
Before she can respond, I lean forward, nibbling her bottom lip, my tongue poking out for a quick taste. I kiss her gently—once, twice. And then my mouth claims her in a desperate, needy kiss, pulling a deep groan from my chest when I push my tongue between her teeth and taste her for the first time. She whimpers in return, her nails digging into my cheeks as she coasts her tongue along mine. I’m reckless and wild, the feel of her so intimately woven with me igniting something I’ve never experienced before. Something alarmingly addicting.
We tangle and dance, her warmth invading me, her light healing me from the inside out, and I feel like I’m drowning, sinking deep and endless, but it’s okay…
I know she’s there to catch me.
Pulling back for a breath, I clutch her in a fierce, possessive hold, rasping out, “You taste exactly like your smile.”
Melody’s chest heaves as she drags her nails down my jaw, then my neck. “What does it taste like?”
“Mine.”
Another whimper hits my ears as we collide. I angle her face against my mouth, devouring her while my hips arc up, seeking the hot friction between her thighs. I’m rock-hard, my dick throbbing in my jeans, aching to feel her sheathed around me once again, tight and wet. My fingers wind behind her head to lace through her hair, forcing our lips to stay locked together as I use my opposite hand to reach down and unzip my pants.
Melody squirms on top of me, inching her dress up over her waist, then helps tug my jeans down. My hips lift automatically until I’m pulling my cock from my boxers and she’s positioning herself over me, reaching between my legs.
Her fingers curl around me, stroking my length in her small, tight fist. My head falls back, a hiss escaping, when she rolls her thumb over the tip, wet with arousal. “Fuck, Melody. Don’t make me come in your fucking hand.”
She kisses me, sweeping her tongue along the roof of my mouth, then pulls back and asks huskily, “Has anyone ever touched you like this before?”
Fuck, no.
Melody is my first.
My first kiss, my first hand job, my first goddamn brush with humanity.
“Just you,” I ground out, barely able to make out her hand pumping me slow and steady through the veil of darkness. But I see her eyes flash by way of ethereal moonlight, dancing with prowess, alight with desire. “Only you.”
Her lips find mine, her hand still jerking me, and our moans blend as one. “God, I love kissing you,” she sighs.
“So, kiss me,” I say back, hardly coherent, biting at her lip. “And ride me.”
Melody makes this mewling sound that causes my dick to twitch in her hand. She lets go of me to yank her underwear aside, then situates the tip of my cock at her entrance, hot and slick. It takes all of my effort not to lose it and come undone like a total fucking tool as I slip inside, only an inch. She hesitates, her fingers drifting to the hem of my t-shirt, an attempt to tug it off me.
I grab her wrists. “No.”
Her expression wilts for just a moment, a shadowy frown staring back at me through the dark… but then she nods.
An understanding.
Instead, she reaches for her own dress, pulling it up over her head until it’s discarded, and her hair falls down in champagne waves. I weave my hands behind her back to fumble with her bra clasp while she continues to tease my dick, and I swear I stiffen even more the second the lace fabric slips free and her breasts are exposed, bathed in a hint of milky moonlight.
Fuck, she’s pretty.
Melody grips the back of my head and thrusts her tits in my face as she sinks down onto my cock. I bite her nipple with a sharp grunt, causing her nails to pierce the base of my skull. “Parker…”
She grits out my name in a way no one ever has before. So defenseless. Unarmed. Melody gave me something that night in the rain when I fucked her against her shed like a goddamn animal, and I understood the value in it. It was raw and dirty, but it was precious, too. She gave me something she had only shared with one other man—her husband.
It scared the shit out of me.
But right now she’s giving me something else, and it’s more than just her body. It’s more than flesh and moans, or the way she’s taking my cock like it was fucking made for her.
She’s giving me real, genuine intimacy, a piece of her heart, and I don’t know what to do with it. It’s in the way her forehead rests against mine, her eyes pinned on me while she rises and falls in my lap with each frayed breath. It’s in the way she clings to me, her fingers curled around the nape of my neck, thumbs dusting over the skin beneath my ears.
It’s in the way she just said my name.
Normally, I’d resist vulnerability like it were poison, reacting with my own anger and venom. But I’m not angry, I’m just unfit and out of my goddamn element, so I funnel those feelings into passion instead, snaking my arms around her back, fisting her hair hard, and fucking her until she cries out.
“Ohhh, my God,” Melody moans, squeezing me tighter.
I angle my hips, thrusting upward and holding her in place, hitting a spot that makes her damn near untether. I’m not small—hell, pretty sure I’m a lot bigger than average—and she’s so fucking petite and breakable, I’m afraid I might hurt her. Tugging her head down, I grit out into her ear, “You okay?”
Her hair tickles my nose when she nods. “Feels so good,” she mutters hoarsely. “You feel so good.”
Melody grips my shoulders and straightens, throwing her head back and gyrating up and down, twirling her hips. I latch onto those hipbones, my fingertips digging in hard enough to leave little bruises behind, and I pull her to me, sucking a taut nipple into my mouth. She bounces in my lap, moans and whimpers escaping her every time she slams down, hitting that sweet spot.
Jesus Christ, I could get used to this.
“Keep making those sounds and I’m going to go fucking feral on you,” I hiss, my fingers scratching down the light layer of sweat casing her spine while hers grab fistfuls of my hair.
It feels like I’m tearing her apart, and she’s piecing me back together.
“Do it,” she says, still riding me, still taking me to the hilt. “Don’t hold back.”
A growl rattles my chest, and I pull out of her, scooping her up in my arms and throwing her backwards onto the couch. Climbing over her, I’m tempted to flip her over, make this less personal, less intimate somehow… but I don’t. My jeans and boxers hit the floor as I kick them off, her underwear following, and then we’re face-to-face, our expressions shrouded in silhouette as I situate myself between her spread thighs and push back in.
Our groans are mutual, my palms trailing up to her cheeks, cupping her more gently than I’d intended, while my thumb drags down her bottom lip.
I move in for a kiss.
Melody’s arms link around my neck, her legs crossing behind my lower back, and our mouths lock, every single piece of us hopelessly entwined. I think this is where I’m supposed to unleash—go savage on her, leave her bruised and quivering, begging for more through her fucking tears. But my hips move with deep, deliberate strokes, my tongue exploring her, more lazy than desperate, and my hands continue to cradle her face with tenderness instead of crazed urgency. There’s a power in the air, some kind of palpable charge, and when I pull back from her lips to meet her eyes, I know she feels it, too. The exact same sentiment twinkles back at me like a sky full of stars.
Our eyes continue to hold as my pace increases, thrusting into her while she holds me so fucking close, I feel like I’m suffocating and purging at the same time. Our noses knock, our lips hovering together, barely touching, breaths hot and needy. Her body tenses beneath me as I grip her face in a possessive, clingy clutch, unable to tear my gaze from hers.
Little squeaks and gasps permeate the air as her orgasm builds, her fingers lifting to my hair and tugging at the strands. When I angle my pelvis to grind into her clit and push into her, slow and deep, Melody begins to buckle, her limbs wracked in tremors.
“Fuck…” I breathe against her lips, drunk on this feeling—this unfamiliar fucking feeling. “You’re so goddamn sexy when you’re about to come.”
“God, don’t stop…”
I don’t want to stop. I don’t ever want to stop, and the notion is equally thrilling and terrifying.
With my own release climbing, I lean down to kiss her hard, our tongues instantly battling, seeking and craving. I feel her clench around my cock, her whole body tautening, bracing for climax, and I lose myself in it all—in her pleasure, in mine, in the chemicals threatening to incinerate me, in her fucking kiss that I can’t seem to get enough of.
One more jerk of my hips, and she cries out into my mouth, gripping my hair so hard it would hurt if I weren’t completely consumed by the feel of her pussy contracting around my dick, causing me to fucking unravel.
“Fuck, Melody,” I groan, pulling back from her mouth to bury my face into the curve of her neck, holding her tight as I come inside her, pulsing and breaking.
The waves hit hard, taking me under. Melody squeezes me as I collapse on top of her, riding out the feeling until I’m nothing but shudders and shockwaves, crushing her with my weight. Her palms slide up and down my back, over the fabric of my shirt, the only barrier between us. It’s a comforting sweep of her fingers, and I lose myself in her touch for one blinding moment as I shift my weight beside her on the couch.
What was that?
What the fuck was that?
It was just supposed to be sex—simple biology. A physical reaction.
But it felt like a goddamn resurrection.
We lie there in silence for a few long heartbeats, my head tucked into her shoulder, and my arm draped around her middle. The smell of sex and sweat hovers in the air, mingling with traces of her lemony shampoo.
Melody’s chest heaves with a labored breath. Shaky fingers dance along the expanse of my forearm as she whispers, “Are you okay?”
She echoes my words from earlier, but they are not the same.
I don’t have an answer for her because I don’t fucking know. I’m not okay, not at all. I feel dismantled and picked apart. Lost. Drowning in confusion and uncertainties.
And yet, I feel the most okay I’ve ever felt.
The only words I can muster as I stew in my inner turmoil are, “Sorry I held back.”
She asked me not to hold back, and instead of going apeshit on her, I took it to a weird-ass vulnerable place. Fucking dumb.
But Melody only gives my arm a gentle squeeze, sighing as her breathing steadies. “You didn’t.”
Swallowing, I try not to dissect the meaning of her words. I just lie idle beside her, my frazzled thoughts dying out and pacifying when she twists in my embrace and nuzzles into me, a sweet kiss meeting the side of my neck.
Once upon a time, the dark was my enemy—the place where I had never felt more alone.
But not tonight.
Tonight it’s where I’ve never felt more alive.