Seven Days (12 page)

“Look at me, Carrie,” he instructed, drawing my eyes back to his as he slowly took me to the hilt. I stared into those desire saturated amber eyes as he sank deeper inside of me, they held me captive in a way I’d never experienced before. Only when he was fully seated inside me did either of us breathe again.

“Oh God,” I shuddered underneath him, synapses and chemistry flowing through my veins as I reveled in his total possession of my body.

“God, you feel better than I fucking imagined,” he said, starting to move, tentatively, as if he wasn’t sure if the moment was real. “I think I could gladly spend the rest of my life right here. Even the view is better than I’d hoped,” he praised, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust into me, hitting a ball of nerves on the upper wall of my channel. When he did it again, my body started to shake even harder and every cell in my body seemed to tense in preparation for an orgasm I’d only ever heard about.

“Let go of my hands,” I requested. “I want to touch you. Fuck, please let me,” I begged.

“Touch me,” he granted, immediately releasing me, and putting his bent elbows on the bed at either side of my head so that he could kiss me as my hands gripped his back.

“So. Fucking. Good. Shit! It’s never felt so good,” I praised, my fingernails biting into the cool sheen of perspiration on his shoulder blades. “I’m— fuck,” I hissed, trying to pull him even closer to me. I knew that I had to be marking his back to hell, but I couldn’t seem to release my grip on him. The tension rolling through my body tightened more than I ever thought possible. I was about to implode or explode. Fuck, I couldn’t even think straight enough to know which word to use to describe what was happening to me properly. As we continued moving together, against each other, I knew that I’d end up melting in on myself or bursting into a colorful cloud of Carrie confetti on the bed. Either way, I knew it would be incredible.

“I feel that. Give it to me, baby,” he coaxed, circling his hips again and rubbing the same spot inside me over and over. My body felt super heated as we continued to move against each other, my hips meeting his stroke for stroke.

“I’ve never, I don’t know, I can’t,” my voice sounded strangled from the intense pressure flowing through me.

“Take a breath, baby, I’ve got you. Let go, breathe,” he reminded me, gently. As he prepared to plunge into me again, I took a deep breath and shattered with an incoherent sting of curse words, arching my back against his chest when he made contact with that bundle of nerves one last time.

“I take it back, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my Goddamn life,” he chuckled when I came back down.

“I’m glad,” I smiled, weakly, every muscle in my body feeling looser than I’d ever been. I could finally see why people liked sex so much. It wasn’t over yet though, because I felt him still pulsing inside me. “Your turn,” I told him, pushing my hips up to take him again. “Show me what you’ve got,” I egged him on. “I want it all. Fill me up.”

“Oh, fuck, baby, you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said, his lips twisted into a mischievous smirk, sitting up long enough to lift my legs over each of his shoulders. When he had me situated, he was pushing into me sharply and setting a frantic pace as his lips sought mine again, my knees pressing against my ears as he fucked me with wild abandon. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip as he rode me toward his climax. My body was just starting to recover from my own release when he thrust one more time and planted himself deep inside me, his amber eyes focused unseeing on mine as he roared through his orgasm.

“
That
was the hottest thing
I’ve
ever seen,” I said with a satisfied smile as he collapsed on me, careful not to crush me with his weight as he helped me maneuver my legs back to his hips.

“That was fantastic, baby,” he said, his words crashing through me like a wrecking ball. Disgusting memories shot through my brain, like pieces of shrapnel. As each of them sliced through me, my breath turned shallow as panic seized me deep. Feeling like I was going to suffocate, I pressed against his chest hysterically trying to get him off me. I needed to get away. I needed detach. Shame started to wash over me in a tidal wave. I needed to fix it. I needed to get rid of it. Every last bit of my horror and disgrace had to be purged in some way. How could I have thought Ryan would be any different? The combined laughter of Dallas and Ben at my audacity, the thought that I could build a better life, a healthier relationship, echoed through my head like a specter.

“Let me go,” I whispered, and it must’ve finally penetrated because he was out and off of me a second later. I bolted toward the bathroom door, kneeling in front of the toilet bowl just in time to empty $30 worth of sushi into it. Tears I hadn’t known I was shedding fell down my face and onto the seat as I reached over to crank the water in the shower to its hottest setting before hauling myself off the floor and stepping into the scalding stream.

All I could smell was a combination of sex, sweat, Ben’s acidic cologne and Dallas’ cinnamon gum. All I could taste was Wild Turkey and pot smoke. Subconsciously, I knew I was safe, that I was with Ryan, but the earthy scent that had calmed me earlier wasn’t even registering. Grabbing the bar of hotel soap, I ripped off the packaging and started to scrub myself clean.

If I’d wondered if I’d scared Ryan off with my behavior, my fears would’ve been assuaged when the curtain was moved back and he moved in behind me. Luckily, he seemed to know that my reaction wasn’t personal; it wasn’t him that I was regretting.

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, grabbing the soap from my hand and pulling me into his arms.

“Please don’t call me baby,” I requested on a choked sob. “I know you’ve been calling me that, but it never hit me before. Please.”

“I won’t,” he agreed, immediately, reaching out of the shower to grab a washcloth. After lathering it, he began to wash me, gently. “Let me help you.”

“I need to wash it away,” I cried, burying my face in my hands in humiliation.

“We didn’t do anything wrong,” he told me, reminding me that I’d been the one begging him to take me. I was the one who freaked out when it was over, too. I was completely successful at, not only ruining the moment, but also the entire evening. I mean, he’d given me my first orgasm ever and I’d thrown it back in his face.

“I know,” I affirmed, bowing my head.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, brushing strands of wet hair from my face.

“No, it’s not,” I shook my head, trying not to lean into the way his hand cupped against my cheek. “You have to be freaking out. I wanted to share that moment with you. It was supposed to be better. Fuck, it
was
better. It was fucking everything I’ve ever wanted it to be,” I rambled.

“Is that what you meant when you said you’d never done this before?” he asked, turning me to face him and bringing my eyes to his with a finger crooked under my chin. He wasn’t going to let me hide this time. “Have you never had a mutually satisfying sexual experience, Carrie?” he clarified his question with an almost feral look as he waited for my answer.

“I’d never gotten off before,” I answered, honestly, hoping it would be enough, though I knew it wouldn’t be.

“That doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out, you erupted like a fucking volcano, but that’s not what I meant,” he murmured, gently but angrily. ”Have you ever had sex out of true desire before? Have you ever been given a real chance to say no?” he pressed, letting me know that I wasn’t the object of his anger.

“No,” I croaked out, feeling my eyes fill up again. I jerked my head from his perusal and turned back to rapidly cooling spray of water. After a beat, his arms encircled mine and he pulled me back into the wall of his chest and bent his head against my neck.

“Never again, sweetheart, never again. I can help you defeat the monster, I swear. Please, just give me a chance to try,” he promised in a way that I wanted to believe him. I wanted him to be able to make that promise a reality, but deep down inside, I knew it was empty.

The rest of the shower was spent in comforting silence as he finished washing me and shampooing my hair before repeating the routine on himself. Reaching behind me, he turned off the water and opened the curtain. Grabbing a towel from the rack, he dried me off as if I were a child and wrapped a second towel around his waist.

“Time for bed, sweetheart,” he told me, handing me his shirt from where we left it in the entry way and slipping his underwear back on. Peeling back the duvet, he tucked me in before lying down behind me and pulling me against his chest. “I promise that I’ll always take care of you,” he vowed.

Idly, he stroked my hair, allowing that same sense of peace and serenity in his company to wrap me up in a safe little cocoon that I knew was a lie. It wasn’t long before his breathing turned even and he was asleep. Trying to shift away from him so that I didn’t follow him under, his arm tightened around me, keeping me in his embrace. It wasn’t long before my body gave up the fight and I drifted off, too. God, I didn’t want to have another nightmare in front of him. He’d been so concerned, but understanding about the other two, but I, somehow, I knew a third would invite more questions than I was willing to answer.

Tracing the outline of the perfect hand-shaped bruise forming on my upper arm, I sat on the aluminum steps just outside the door to the trailer. I’d been hoping that my dad would try to get sober for the last two years since mom died, but he only seemed to dive further and further into his addiction.

After getting notice last week that he was at the end of his unemployment benefits, he decided he needed to get sober so that he could find a job. He tried to quit cold turkey and after the shakes and vomiting subsided, he started to become paranoid and violent.

“
I know you’ve been stealing money!” he’d yell at me, wielding a kitchen knife. That altercation ended with a brand new cut in my favorite shirt and a gash in my stomach that would leave a nasty scar. Even though it bled like crazy, it wasn’t deep enough to need stitches.

This time, I’d gotten between him and Britton so that he couldn’t hit her for, supposedly, sabotaging the interview he’d just returned from. He accused my twelve year old sister of calling the hiring manager and telling the man that our father was unstable.

“
Are you okay?” Dallas asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“
Not really,” I frowned, tugging on the sleeve of my t-shirt as he sat down on the step beside me.

“
Is he still trying to get clean?” he nodded his head toward the house.

“
Yeah, but part of me is wondering if he wouldn’t be better falling off the wagon,” I grumbled, feeling guilty for thinking that my father might be better off doped up. “I mean, I didn’t think he’d be so mean if he got sober. I’m scared about what might happen if this continues.”

“
Why don’t you just leave something on the table?” Dallas shrugged. “If he takes it, then you might be able to breathe easier knowing that he won’t be able to stop himself. That he’ll leave you alone for a while?”

“
Wouldn’t that make me the worst daughter ever?” I shook my head.

“
You could always just come and stay with Noah and me?” he offered, his glassy blue eyes looking hopeful.

“
I couldn’t leave Britton here like that,” I waved off. “She doesn’t deserve to be abandoned by me, too. If I weren’t living here, I couldn’t do that, either.”

“
Do you have another way to get him straight?” he folded his arms over his chest.

“
Ugh,” I groaned, looking up at the awning above the steps. “No, but I don’t even know where I could get him something like that. Besides, all of my money goes to keep the lights on in this place,” I vented. “Drugs cost money that I don’t have.”

“
I can take care of that,” Dallas said in a way that I knew there was a ‘but’ coming.

“
You will?” I looked at him, skeptically.

“
Yeah, but—”

The ringing from Ryan’s cell phone, thankfully, pulled me from another nightmare. I knew I hadn’t been asleep long when I saw the darkness beyond the curtains of the room. It wasn’t even sure we’d had more than two hours of sleep, but it didn’t stop my heart from pounding in my chest as I was frozen in my nightmare. A grumble went up from beside me as Ryan rolled away from me to grab his phone from his pants on the floor just in time for the ringing to start all over again.

“Your sister,” he said with his voice rough with sleep as he handed the phone to me.

“Thank you,” I grabbed the phone and answered it before it could click to voicemail again. “Britton?”

“Tildy,” the voice on the other end replied.

“Where’s Brit?” I asked, sitting up in the bed, suddenly more nervous than I’d been since our earlier conversation. I was still trying to shake off my dream as I listened for the response. I couldn’t believe I’d let myself fall asleep before hearing that my sister was safe from whatever mind game our father might’ve tried to play.

“She’s right here,” Tildy confirmed. “She’s fine, just a little shook up. Marco and I just got done taking her to see your dad.”