***
Her bedroom is small, done in shades of cool purple and red, from the drapes at the window to the bed cover and carpet. Books line the two shelves on the wall, and a closer inspection reveals books about art, jewelry, artisanal beads and strings, and fittingly, traveling. Escaping.
I’m thumbing through an account of a journey to Borneo—is that in Africa? Not sure—when a pendant hanging from a nail on the wall catches my eye.
A copper wire, and threaded on it is a small stone carving of a lion, no bigger than the tip of my thumb. The stone is black and shiny, and cool to the touch.
I don’t hear her until she’s right behind me and touches me on the small of my back, making me jump three feet off the floor.
“Jesus! Warn a man first. Fucking hell.” I clap a hand dramatically to my heart, and she snickers.
“Your turn in the bathroom. I left the new toothbrush there.”
I’d answer, but my tongue is currently busy being stuck to the roof of my mouth. Holy motherfucking shit. She’s changed into tiny red shorts and a loose white blouse that is so soft it molds to her tits and hips, and I’ve gone from soft to hard in a heartbeat.
I stifle a moan as I reach down to adjust myself inside my jeans, and fuck if her gaze doesn’t follow the movement, widening a little.
Yeah, see what you do to me, kitten.
“You, uh…” She tears her eyes off my crotch and gestures at the pendant. “Like it?”
“Uh, yeah.” I realize I’m still staring at her pretty tits, and it’s my turn to force my gaze away. “It’s a lion.”
“Yeah. I made it, years ago, when we left to go to Chicago.”
“You said you left because of the bullying.”
She flinches at the word, and unconsciously I reach for her. I pull her against my side, curling an arm around her slender frame, as if I can protect her from any hurt.
“Yes. My parents decided leaving would be best. And they were right. It gave me the space and peace I needed to rebuild some of my confidence and self-esteem.”
I tighten my hold on her, the thought of anything bad happening to her hurting like a jagged glass stuck in my chest. “Good.”
“That was when I started getting seriously interested in art and crafts. My dad, he comes from the East Coast, from Rhode Island. He had this stone he found on the shore when he was little and other kids picked on him. He was a scrawny thing, unlike me.”
“Good,” I tell her truthfully. “I like you the way you are. You’re perfect.”
She snorts, and I bury my nose in her hair. It smells of coconut and sunlight. “Anyway, he got the stone and convinced himself it was some sort of ancient talisman that could protect him from any violence. Its shape already roughly resembled an animal. He gave it to me, and I carved and polished it, hung it around my neck.”
“But you’re not wearing it anymore.”
“I’ve come a long way since then,” she whispers and leans her head on my chest, over my heart. I wonder if she can hear how fast it’s beating, what her closeness is producing in me. “When I realized I don’t need it anymore, I took it off.”
“It’s beautiful.” I chew on the inside of my cheek. “You know what I said, about a toy I had?”
“Embers,” she says softly. “You said it was the only thing you had from your childhood.”
She remembers. The realization makes my eyes sting, and I don’t know the hell why. “Yeah. I guess the color was golden, like embers from a fire. It was a stuffed animal. A small, filthy thing without eyes or a tail.” I glance again at the pendant. “A lion.”
She makes a small distressed sound, and I pull away to look at her. But before I do, she ducks under my arm and jumps on the bed.
Hiding from me, and I’m drawn to her more and more, and I don’t know why.
Maybe it’s the pain of her past, the bullying, the loss of her belief in herself. The move away from her childhood, the fear of losing it all. The fear of never being able to trust anyone ever again.
I know that feeling. I know that pain.
Fuck me. I think I know now why she felt so familiar from the start. I didn’t meet her before, and she doesn’t remind me of anyone else I know.
She reminds me of myself.
***
Teeth brushed, face splashed with cold water, I’m standing in Amber’s bedroom, leaning back on the closed door. Clutching my baseball cap in my hand, I hesitate, not sure what she expects of me. The buzz of alcohol is fading, and I’m hyper aware of her soft, sexy body curled under the covers.
She sits up, and the golden light of her bedside lamp catches the sweet curve of her cheek, her soft lips, the pale roundness of her breasts over the neckline of her blouse.
Mouth gone dry, I stare, my pants growing tighter by the second, my dick so excited you’d think I’ve never seen a chick before.
Ridiculous. Fucking hilarious. Jesse the manwhore, hesitating to jump into bed with a girl. Only, I’ve never been in a bed with a girl, and let’s face it, never a girl as pretty as this. As kind as this. As smart and funny, getting under my skin, making me fantasize about her. Making me feel.
Damn.
If I get into her bed, we’ll have sex. I know it by looking at her face. She wants it. Wants me. Her chest is rising and falling fast, her breathing ragged. As for me, if I climb under the covers and take her in my arms, I won’t be able to stop myself from taking her hard.
And then it will be over. She’ll be just another girl, another fuck.
I don’t want that, and it scares me shitless.
You don’t mix sexual fantasies with feelings, ever. Feelings are… dangerous. Like her. But it’s too late. I can’t stop feeling when she’s around, and it fucking hurts.
“JJ?” Her voice is low and light, wrapping like a fine thread around me, tugging me toward her.
I kick off my shoes, take off my socks, undo my belt and push down my pants, letting them pool around my ankles. Her gaze follows my movements as I step free, then I tear off my T-shirt as I walk toward the bed.
Her eyes are dark pools in the dimness. She scoots back, giving me space to climb in beside her. I expect her to touch me, say something, but she lies on her side, watching me as I stretch down and fold an arm behind my head.
My breath catches in my throat at the sight of her bare, long legs. Her tits fight to be free of her top, soft and so unbearably close. One second more of this and I’ll roll over, grab her and—
Her hand alights on my chest, and I still. The warmth of her palm sends a shiver of fire all the way to my balls.
“What do you need, kitten?” I ask, my voice hoarse. “Say it.”
She shakes her head and bites her lip.
I should close my eyes and pretend to fall asleep, but I can’t look away. She’s a contradiction—shy and yet quick to reply, pretty and yet unaware of it, scared and yet courageous. Sexy. Distant.
So damn close to my raging hard-on, and yet so damn far I could weep.
“Embers—”
“Your turn,” she says ands sits up, the covers pooling at her waist. Her dark hair tumbles around her face, on her shoulders, and her eyes… Fuck, they’re like mirrors. Mirrors reflecting me. “What do you want?”
She looks nervous. I open my mouth to give her a flippant reply—but I can’t find the words. What is she doing to me?
So I do the only thing I know how. I twist and slide my hands under her blouse, finding her lush tits and thumbing her nipples which harden. The breath leaves her lungs in a whoosh and she falls back against the cushions, her eyes wide.
“JJ…”
“I’ll take care of you, kitten.” I drag her blouse up and off her, and put my mouth on her pretty nipples. I love her sweet taste, her scent of caramel and the fainter whiff of coconut from her hair. My dick jumps and twitches between my legs as I lick and lightly bite, then switch to her other breast and repeat. Fuck, I’m so turned on I’m in real danger of coming from this little taste. “Let me.”
She moans something, writhing as I slip her tiny shorts and lacey panties off, then dip my finger into her tight heat.