November 20
Gallup, New Mexico
“Perry!”
Kevin shot up in his bed, sweating, shaking, gasping for air.
It took a while before he realized he was in the motel room and not on that deserted road.
He didn’t know how loud he had screamed, but it was loud enough to wake him up.
His state of semi-consciousness was a confusing place to be.
In that place where dreams mix with reality, he was delusional enough to believe that calling out Perry’s name could bring him back.
In that place where what-ifs were confused with what is, desperation and sheer will were enough to save his friend.
But Perry was gone. Now he only existed in that place and Kevin’s existence seemed perpetual in this world of nothing but emptiness.
He wanted to escape it, escape the guilt.
He hadn’t even looked for Shandré like he’d promised.
He’d disrespected the dying wish of his best friend and to this day he didn’t know if she would have survived if he had gone to search for her earlier.
The lives of three people had been in his hands that night and only one survived.
He hadn’t known what to do, so he did nothing, not one thing to save them.
He heard shuffling and quickly dropped his head back onto the pillow, pretending to still be asleep.
Jasmin had probably heard him and he didn’t want to talk to her.
She asked too many questions and a part of him wanted to answer, open up and share the load with her.
Maybe then the weight wouldn’t feel so heavy.
She had the ability to make him forget about his problems, his pain.
Her aura was all-encompassing, so positive and reassuring that he just wanted to get sucked into it and forget.
But this was his burden to carry. It wouldn’t be fair to bring her into it.
She had more than enough to deal with already.
The lamp beside his bed was switched on. He felt the mattress drop as she sat down beside him and then a gentle hand slowly brushed the hair off his forehead. He kept his eyes closed, hoping she’d think he was sleeping and go back to bed.
“Bad dream?” she whispered.
Her hand moved down the side of his face, caressing his cheek, making him realize just how much he wanted that contact.
He’d pushed everyone away after Perry’s death, never allowing himself to feel any sort of comfort, but right now it felt so good.
All he wanted was for her to wrap him up in it, just until the ache dulled.
“I wish you’d talk to me,” she said. “I wish you’d tell me what’s hurting you so much. I can see it, you know. You’re really bad at hiding it. Maybe as we go along, you’ll learn to trust me more…but until then…sweet dreams, Kevin.”
She leaned forward and her soft hair tickled the side of his face.
A normal person would have maybe kissed his forehead or his cheek, but disrespectful Jasmin went straight for his lips.
There was a slight jolt of anger at the violation, but that disappeared quite quickly.
The second he registered the warmth of her mouth, the only thing he wanted to do was thread his fingers through her hair, keep her there for eternity so all he’d ever have to feel was her lips against his.
He heard a soft moan and opened his eyes to see that he had done just that.
She pulled away slightly, but the hand in her hair stopped her from moving more than a few millimeters.
He should’ve let her go, but she was so close, and he wanted her closer.
Close enough to dull the ache. Close enough to stop the pain. He just wanted to feel her, only her.
His eyes locked on hers for a minute, her breaths coming out soft and uncertain, mimicking his own.
He waited and when she didn’t try to move further away, he pulled her back down to him and kissed her.
Long and deep, searching the depths of her mouth for the comfort he knew lay hidden there.
He sucked on her tongue, trying to draw her essence into his soul so she could make him whole.
His arms went around her, shifting her body until her legs were straddling his hips.
She was nervous, unsure of what to expect, but she didn’t hold back.
Just like with everything else, she opened up to the experience, offered herself wholeheartedly to him.
And he couldn’t find the strength to say no.
Her tongue traced seductively over his lower lip and he just lost it, got lost in it.
He tossed her over on the small bed, kicking the covers off before he rolled on top of her.
Everything changed at that moment. Want turned into need.
Hunger turned into greed. He wanted all of her, could think of nothing else but having her.
Twisting one hand in her hair, he tilted her head back so her full, ripe lips were exposed and ready for him.
No one else had tasted these lips. No one else had touched this body.
It was his for the taking. He wasn’t gentle about it.
It was raw assault, his mouth claiming hers like he was actually worthy.
He wasn’t.
At some point, he didn’t know when, he found a few seconds to remove his sleepshirt.
His hand crept beneath her pajama top, cupping her breast, and she arched her back to take full advantage of his touch.
He spent a few more minutes ravaging her mouth before his lips went down her neck—sucking, biting, trying to fulfill insatiable need building inside him.
He wasn’t gentle about this either.
“Kevin,” she moaned, her shallow breaths warm against his ear.
The sound of his name on her lips had his fingers pressing harder into her flesh.
The buttons of her pajamas were quickly undone and his eyes followed every movement of his hand as he spread the material.
With her top half bared to him, he took a few moments to appreciate every curve, every contour. Her smooth skin. Her supple breasts.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, dipping his head to take her nipple into his mouth.
Her fingers gripped his hair, keeping his head in place as his tongue swirled around one swollen peak and then the other.
Her responsiveness was intoxicating, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
He was getting drunk on that cocktail of inexperience mixed with eagerness.
Her smell, her taste—he wanted it to consume him.
He wanted to lose himself in this lust, allow outer pleasure to replace the inner pain.
He dragged his mouth back up to hers, because he hadn’t had enough yet and pressed himself harder against her, loving the feel of her bare skin on his.
His hand moved between her legs, sliding up her inner thigh before cupping her over her pajama pants.
He rubbed her, feeling her dampness through the material.
Moaning against his mouth, she writhed beneath him.
His hands were impatient and he wanted more.
Clothes were completely unnecessary. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her pajama pants, he began to tug it down.
“Kevin.”
It wasn’t a moan this time. It was more of protest and he immediately stopped.
He looked down at her. Her eyes were wide, her breaths heavy.
Everything about her tense body language told him she was anxious and nervous.
He was moving too fast. This was technically the second time she’d ever kissed a guy and he had her half-naked in a few, short minutes.
“What am I doing?” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “Shit, Jasmin, I’m—”
An apology seemed most appropriate, but he wasn’t sorry, just ashamed of his selfishness. She wasn’t ready and he was so busy chasing his own need, he hadn’t bothered to give it a second thought.
He lifted off her and stood up. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I didn’t want you—”
He cut her off with a quick wave of his hand and walked into the bathroom. Shutting the door, he took a minute to breathe, trying to rid himself of all the pent-up energy coursing through him with every exhale. Heart racing. Head throbbing. He was a mess inside, riddled with so many emotions.
He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head. “What the hell was I thinking?”
If she hadn’t put a stop to it, he wouldn’t have stopped.
He shouldn’t have kissed her in the first place, though even with hindsight, he still couldn’t see himself saying no.
She drew him in on every level, physically, emotionally, and now he couldn’t seem to get her and this edginess out of his system.
The innocent anticipation in her Jasmin eyes, the pliant body that beckoned to every one of his carnal needs—there was no denying how bad he wanted her.
He wanted to take her. Brand her with his kiss. Fuck her until she begged him to stop. Bury himself so deep inside her no other man would ever be enough.
He gripped the side of the basin until his knuckles turned white. It was too much. He was feeling too much all at once. Lust. Guilt. Anger. And then there was this ache, the ache of losing his friend, an ache to fill the emptiness. It was safe to say he was volatile.
Dan: Using a virgin for comfort sex. Dick move!
What happened to no complications? What happened to boundaries?
What happened to not fucking around with that heart?
I think our viewers at home are suffering from whiplash.
He’s bouncing up and down. One minute he’s trying to keep his distance, the next minute he can’t keep his hands off her.
Bob: It’s the first time he’s felt this way about a girl. He’s confused.
Dan: Nope. I’m calling it, Bob. With my PhD in psychology, I’ve diagnosed this kid as being clinically fucked up!
Bob: Where did you study?