One Week Girlfriend (14 page)

She closes her eyes on a hiss, her hands braced against the wall, her chest thrust forward. I lean over her and rain kisses across her collarbone, her chest, the tops of her breasts, the valley in between. I’m teasing her, teasing myself and damn, I already feel like I’m going to explode.

When I finally take a hard nipple between my lips, she thrusts her hands into my hair, her entire body tense as I wind my tongue around and around her flesh. She’s panting, I’m panting and I wish I wouldn’t have started this here. Should’ve waited until I at least got her into a bed.

“Andrew,” she whispers, the sound of my full name stopping me cold and I go completely still as memories wash over me.

Just let me touch you, Andrew I know you’ll like it. It’ll be so perfect between us. Please, Andrew. I know how to make you feel good…

I wrench myself out of Fable’s hold and back away from her, my breath coming in ragged spurts, my brain spinning with old memories mixed with new, fresh ones.

“Drew, what’s wrong? What happened?”

I focus my gaze on Fable, watch as she pushes away from the wall and comes toward me, her breasts bouncing with her every step, her expression filled with concern. I’m ruining it. I’m letting my past shade my present, hell, my entire future and I’m filled with inexplicable rage.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, not like this, not today and I shake my head, unable to speak, my tongue feels so thick.

She reaches for me, her hand touches mine and I yank away from her as if she burned me. “Drew.” Her voice grows stern, reminding me again of my past and I shake my head again, trying to shake out the shitty thoughts, but it’s not working.

“Don’t shut down on me, Drew. Don’t run away. Tell me what’s wrong.” She’s pleading with me, I swear I see tears streaming down her cheeks, but I can’t tell her what’s wrong.

If she thinks things are bad now, wait until she learns the truth.

“I—I can’t do this.” Without waiting for an answer I turn away from her and escape to my room, slamming the door behind me before I turn the lock. I want her with me yet I want her far, far away. I am a total contradiction and I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. Maybe I really would be better off alone.

I can’t keep living my life like this, letting that—woman control me like she has, but I can’t stop my reactions. I need help. I’m a fucking wreck and I need someone to save me before I become completely unsaved.

Fear ripples down my spine as I take off all my clothes, leaving them in a wet heap on the floor. I ignore my raging erection. I’m so hard, my dick fucking hurts but I refuse to touch myself, no matter how much relief I’ll feel when I’m done. I should be with Fable right now, not alone with my fucked up memories.

She’s banging on the door, asking me to let her in. I turn and stare at the closed door, my heart pounding so hard the sound fills my head and I can’t really hear anything else. I’m breathing like I just ran hundreds of miles nonstop and my skin feels so tight, I think I might pop. I’m hot. Feverish.

My head spins.

Fuck.

Fable

I stand on my tiptoes and reach at the top of the doorframe, finding one of those hex keys that’ll open any lock. Grabbing it, I jam the thin piece of metal into the lock and turn, thankful when it clicks over with ease.

Maybe I shouldn’t do this. Invade Drew’s privacy when he’s clearly shutting me out. But the way he reacted scared me so bad, and filled me with worry too, I knew I had to go after him and make sure everything’s okay. His expression had been so full of despair when he pulled away from me, I’m not sure what set him off.

I’m scared to discover what’s wrong but I have to do this. For Drew.

When I open the door, I see he’s standing in the middle of the room completely naked and for a moment, I’m stunned. His body is beautiful, a masculine work of art. Broad shoulders, smooth back with fluid muscles and a butt that looks as firm as steel. My whole body aches to feel him moving against me, with me, but I know that’s not what he needs right now.

“Drew,” I whisper, my voice breaking, almost as much as my heart.

He whirls around, pain and humiliation written all over his face. “You should go.”

“Let me help you.” I start to approach him and he shakes his head.

“Go, Fable. I don’t want you to see me like this.” He hangs his head and my gaze drops to his lower body. He’s erect, hugely erect and I don’t know what happened to ruin what was going to be an undoubtedly beautiful moment between us but there’s nothing I can do about it now.

“You can’t push me away.” I know that’s what he’s doing. What he’s used to. I refuse to let him do it to me too. I’m going to stand my ground and really help him.

I want to stick.

“You don’t want me,” he whispers, his voice harsh. “Not like this. I can’t…you don’t want to deal with me when I’m like this.”

“Please, Drew.” I’m begging and I don’t care. I never do this. I don’t grovel, I try my best to keep it together. But seeing him like this, he scares the hell out of me. I don’t want to leave him alone and I don’t want him to push me away. I feel like at this very moment, I’m all he has. “Tell me what I can do.”

“You can leave.” He turns away from me and I sprint toward him, grabbing his forearm and preventing him from going any further.

“No.” Our gazes clash and I stand my ground, even though I know I must look ridiculous half-dressed and drenched from the rain. “I’m not leaving.”

His eyes drop to my still-bare chest and linger there. My nipples tighten from his blatant examination and I sway toward him as if I can’t help myself. My body betrays me even though I try my best to pretend he doesn’t affect me. What’s happening between us isn’t about sex right now. Drew needs my comfort. My acceptance.

“You’re shivering,” he murmurs, reaching out to grab a wet strand of hair. He rubs it between his fingers, his gaze still locked on my chest. “You need to change out of those wet clothes.”

It’s like he’s slowly coming back to me, coming back from that dark, desolate spot where he retreated. His expression is lighter, his eyes aren’t so wide and full of terror. His voice has returned to normal and he’s not shaking so badly.

I’m not sure what he wants from me but whatever it is, I’m willing to give it.

Completely.

~* Chapter Ten *~

Day 4, 9:49 p.m.

Love’s tendrils round the heart doth twine, as round the oak doth cling the vine.
 
– Ardelia Cotton Barton

Drew

We’re in my bed, Fable wrapped all around me, the both of us completely naked yet not touching in any sort of sexual way beyond being plastered together. We fell asleep like this. She’s still asleep, though I’ve been lying here wide awake for at least an hour, my mind racing with the possibilities having her in my arms offered.

She refused to budge after I had a complete breakdown and tried my hardest to push her away. I had to admire her for that, no matter how much I didn’t want her there during such a humiliating moment. Seeing me like that, all broken and dizzy and so screwed up, I must’ve looked like an idiot to her. At the very least, a big ol’ pussy who can’t handle anything sexual—shit, the rumors she could start with that knowledge alone would ruin me forever.

But she didn’t bat an eyelash. Just continued to talk to me in that calm, sweet voice of hers until I had no choice but to give in. She then shoved me into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin, completely immodest without her top on, leaving me mesmerized by the sight of her bare breasts as she bent over me and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

Despite my panicking when she said my full name—that reminder of my past is still too hard to shake I guess—I wanted her close. I wanted to feel her against me, knowing she would bring me comfort.

Torturing me too, but I could deal with it.

So when she tried to leave, I grabbed her hand and asked her to stay. I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts and my memories. I saw the reluctance in her gaze but she stayed anyway, shedding her wet clothes completely, the sight of her beautiful slender body in all its naked glory leaving my mouth dry.

She climbed into my bed and I pulled her close. Held her to me, her back to my front as we fell asleep to the sound of the rain falling outside. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so content, having this warm, beautiful girl so close in my arms, skin on skin, our breathing in sync, my hands resting on her soft belly.

Waking up flat on my back with her sprawled all over me, her fragrant, still-damp hair in my face, I thought I was dreaming, she felt that good. But then I realized it’s all too real and I didn’t move for fear of disturbing her and causing her to leave me.

At this very moment, I don’t want her away from me ever.

Carefully I run my fingers through her hair, smoothing it out, holding my breath. She snuggles closer, her face pressed against my chest, her lips brushing my skin, making me instantly hard. The rain is still falling outside, the room’s completely shrouded in darkness and I can see nothing. Only feel.

I haven’t felt anything in years.

She wakes slowly, I knew the moment it happened, how her breathing changes, the way she starts to withdraw from me. I clamp my arms around her and hold her close, not saying a word for fear I’d fuck up and blurt out something stupid.

Instead of trying to pull away, she lifts her head and nuzzles closer, her mouth against my neck. She kisses me there, slowly, softly and tingles wash over my entire body at the sensation, making me shiver. I swore I feel her smile and I clamp my arm tight around her waist, splaying my fingers wide so I can touch as much bare skin as possible.

I don’t know exactly what I’m doing or what I’m trying to accomplish, but I know that I can handle this. In the dark, with Fable. No memories haunting me, completely in this moment. Fable in my arms, her long hair brushing against my skin, her warm breath in my ear. She sinks her teeth into the tender flesh of my earlobe and I flinch, a huff of breath escaping me that sounds suspiciously like laughter.

“Ticklish?” she whispers and I nod, still scared to say anything, savoring the sound of her sweet, sweet voice washing over me. I’ve never laughed during sex before. It’s never something I considered particularly funny. More like a means to an end…

Or a shameful, guilt-ridden secret.

“You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen,” she whispers as she slides over so she’s completely on top of me. The thick comforter is still covering our bodies and her warmth seeps into mine, cocooning us in our own little private haven.

“You can’t even see me.” I’m surprised at how good her compliment makes me feel.

“Oh, I saw you. And I can feel you.” Her hands are everywhere, searching me. Arousing me. “You’re all muscle, Drew Callahan. There’s not an ounce of fat on you.” I can hear the amusement in her voice and I know she’s enjoying teasing me.

“That’s probably not true.” I choke on the last word when she slides her naked body down, then off me so she’s lying on her side right next to me. She trails her hand down my chest, along my abs, her fingers gently gliding over my stomach, making it tremble. I am rock hard and aching with it and I refuse to ask her for anything more than she’s willing to give.

I’m scared. Fucking scared to have sex for fear I’ll ruin everything and flip out again. Or worse, have all those memories come tumbling down on me and I won’t be able to deal.

What’s happened to me in my past has shaded my entire life. Ruined it. I’m tired of letting it rule me.

So. Fucking. Tired.

Her hand skitters away from my cock and I breathe a sigh of relief—and agony. I’d give anything to have her hands on me. Feeling the overwhelming need to connect with her, I cup her cheek with my palm and tilt her head up, kissing her fiercely. No gentle, sweet kisses this time. I devour her, drink from her lips, suck on her tongue and she does the same. Our hands are everywhere, mapping each other’s bodies, moving into more intimate territory with every stroke of our fingers and then I feel her tentative grip on me. Her hand is shaking and my entire body is shaking.

I groan at the sensation of her touching me like this for the first time and it emboldens her. She squeezes my dick and starts to stroke, those little fingers working me quickly into a frenzied mass of need. I kiss her again, losing myself in her taste, in her hand and already I can feel sensations barreling down on me.

She whispers my name against my lips, her busy hand getting busier and I groan, arching my hips into her touch. The war begins within me as I near my orgasm and I fight against it.

This isn’t right. You should be ashamed. Sick to your stomach at what you’re doing. You’re disgusting.

I push the nagging voice in my head aside and remind myself this is Fable. Beautiful, sweet, strong Fable. That what we’re doing, what we’re sharing isn’t full of shame. There’s nothing wrong with two people wanting to bring themselves closer together by giving each other pleasure.

It’s hard though, for me to believe it fully.

Her hand pauses and she breaks away from our kiss “Are you okay?”