Chapter 12
Ash
Dad and Amy went on their honeymoon in Spain. I’m happy for them and today Tristan comes home. I informed his Doctor I would be the one picking him up, and they said that was fine since he’s an adult.
I step into the basement to get his things in order when I see the painting on the easel. Is that? That can’t be me. I walk over and run my fingers over the angel he’s painted with my face. I swallow hard as I take it in. It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as this. Knowing he wouldn’t want me to see it, I flip it around so the back is facing out. Then I finish picking up his room before heading out to pick him up.
I’m ushered into a waiting area when I arrive. When they wheel him out, I’m confused. He’s not alert. He’s in a wheelchair, not even walking.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s on a lot of medication right now. It’ll wear off. Here’s his prescriptions,” the woman says, handing a bagful of bottles. I look at them and then back at her like she’s insane. That’s a lot of meds for one person.
“He needs to follow up with his regular doctor in three days,” she explains. I nod my head before I step behind him and push his near lifeless body out of the room and into the elevator.
“Tristan?” I call his name, but he doesn’t respond and I can understand why. He has to be overmedicated. I shake my head, push him out when the doors open, and go out to my car. I help him into the front seat before returning the chair and coming back. His head rests against the window, and his eyes are closed.
I get in and start the car, driving us back to the house. When we arrive, I help him out and inside.
“Do you want to stay on the couch?” I ask him, not knowing if he’s going to make it down the steps. He shakes his head, and I do the best I can to help him walk down the stairs without both of us falling. I’m basically dragging him to his bed and helping him lay down before pulling the blankets over him. When I start to pull away, he grabs my wrist and whispers.
“Stay.”
“That’s not a good idea,” I tell him.
“Please.” With that one word, that’s all it took. Just hearing him say please in that sad tone has broken me. I nod my head even if he can’t see me and crawl onto the bed next to him. I know he did what he did because of me, and I shouldn’t be here, but how can I not be here?
His hand finds mine and he intertwines our fingers, holding on as tightly as he can. I’m not sure what to do now. I try to sleep, listening to him snore lightly next to me. I know the medication has to be taking a toll on his body, as well as the surgery he had.
I finally doze off and when I wake up, he’s staring at me. I gasp and start to shift away, but his hand lands on my hip, keeping me in place. Neither of us speaks as he moves in closer, pressing his lips to mine. I let him kiss me and start to kiss him back. This is wrong. I can feel it in every single bone in my body. I shouldn’t be here, in his bed, kissing him. But why does it feel so right then? Why doesn’t this feel wrong?
When he stops kissing me, and his hand begins to move over me, I pull away.
“Be with me, Ash.” His words send heat coiling inside me, but I shake my head no.
“I can’t do that.”
“Do you have any idea how much I fucking need you, Ash? How much it hurts when you walk away from me?” Tears immediately fill my eyes as I shake my head.
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true. It’s like you’re ripping my fucking black heart out,” he adds. I think it’s just the medicine talking, but he looks like himself this morning.
“I can’t be what you need,” I tell him.
“You don’t know what I need.”
“I can’t be like her. I’m not her.”
“I don’t want her, Ash. Be with me.”
“What about Ben?” I ask him.
“Fuck Ben. He doesn’t need you the way I do,” he tells me. My heart leaps in my chest a little at his words. I don’t know what to say. Do I feel a connection to Tristan? Yeah, I do, but we’re so different this could never work out between us.
“I can’t.”
“Don’t walk away from me, Ash. I won’t live to see another day if you do.” It’s a threat. I can hear it in his tone.
“No. You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to threaten me, Tristan.”
“I’m not threatening. Just … fuck. Get out,” he orders, looking the other way. It hurts. I felt an ache deep inside my chest when he turned his head and looked the other way.
Do I want to be with Tristan? Part of me says yes, but the other part, the more rational part, says to run the other way because I can’t and never will be what he needs. However, what if he’s telling the truth? What if he does need me?
Going against my better judgment, I reach for him, grabbing his face in my hand and turning it back to face me.
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Tristan. It feels wrong and right at the same time,” I tell him truthfully.
“Nothing right is ever wrong, Ash.” He leans in, pressing his lips to mine once more, and I find myself savoring every bit of him. His hand stays on my hip for a short time before he pulls away and pushes me onto my back. Then, his hand slides into the top of my jeans. The ones I wore, knowing he’d see me in them.
“You wore the jeans,” he makes a note.
“I’m finding I like them.”
“Me too,” he whispers as his hand sinks into the front of my panties. I suck in a rigid breath when he slowly dips a finger inside me.
“So fucking tight,” he says as he works a finger in a little more. I’ve never felt anything like this. Nothing at all, and I know I should be ashamed, but I’m not. It feels too good to even think about feeling that way.
“I want to fuck you, Little Nun. I want to dirty you up with my body.” His words have my breathing picking up speed, and I don’t know how to stop it from happening. He works his finger in and out of me, and I whine. He keeps going, hitting a spot inside that nearly has me leaping off the bed.
“Tell me. Tell me I can fuck you, Ash.”
“I don’t know. We’re not married,” I tell him because that’s the way it should be, right? We should be married before sex.
“That’s so old school. You know that, right? Hell, mom was probably fucking your dad before they got married,” he replies casually.
“Isn’t it personal? I mean, shouldn’t it mean something?”
“You think it won’t mean anything? It’ll mean you’re mine, Ash. Some people believe when you kiss you belong to that person. I believe when I sunk my teeth into your flesh, you became mine.”
“I can’t … we can’t …”
“We can. Just say the words, and I’m going to bury my fucking secrets inside you.”
I lie in his bed while he slides his finger in and out of me in the most delicious ways I’ve ever felt, and I’m torn. Do I do this? It goes against everything I’ve ever learned. No sex before marriage, but I let him touch me, and I shouldn’t have done that either.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?” he asks. I nod my head, and he leans over, kissing me once more. I can tell he’s still in pain, but that doesn’t stop him from getting to work on our clothes. He winces when he pulls his off, and I offer him his pain meds.
“They make me tired, and I don’t want to fucking sleep, Ash. I want inside you like I’ve never wanted anything before.”
Once he has us both naked, he grabs the condom from his table and slides it on. His penis seems bigger than the last time I saw it, and that scares me a little.
“Will it fit?”
“Aww, Little Nun. Your pussy is made to stretch. There’s no way in fuck I’m not getting it inside you.”
“You had surgery,” I remind him.
“And it hurts like fuck, but I need this more than the pain meds. I don’t think you get it. I thrive on the fucking pain, Ash. Give me all the pain.” I nod my head as Tristan spreads my legs and climbs in between them. I don’t know what to do so I just lie here.