A Mess of Reason (26 page)

“Here you go, baby, your first toy.” I hand
her a beaded anal vibrator—freshly lubed, mind you.

“Oh, a little prep. Very nice. Would you
like to help me?” She’s practically purring. I can’t resist this
time. I’m beyond reproach.

“Love to. I have the remote…be
prepared.”

“Control freak much?” she says as I lean
forward to coat the black, beaded beauty more heavily with
lube.

“I said I wanted to watch; I never said I
wouldn’t participate here and there. Have you ever used one of
these?”

“No, but I get the idea.”

“Hold your knees to your chest. I’ll go
slowly. Just breathe…talk to me.”

Her eyes light up after bead two and that’s
exactly when I turn on the vibration—which is going to make her
nuts.

“Oh, God, that’s good. Slow… Scout, go slow.
It’s so strong. Oh Jesus…I’m not allowed to come?” Fuck…I knew this
would thrill her, I just didn’t think it would floor her—and
certainly not this fast.

“Not until I say. Too much?” I switch it to
a gently rolling vibration and the look in her eyes is one of pure
pleasure. As is mine.

“Better. Ohh, I’m going to be so ready for
you. Don’t torture me for too long, please. Oh, my God…” she says
as she closes her eyes and sinks into her pleasure, which is
nirvana to watch. After a few minutes she’s almost there, so I shut
it off. Cruel but worth it.

“Why—? Oh…you are seriously not going to let
me come?”

“I promise you, all the starts and stops
will make your orgasm stronger. You aren’t ready, anyway.”

“Says who? My lady parts are very ready and
willing. Come on…let me go.”

“First this. Think of it as the Rolls Royce
of vibrators: you’ll have it for life.”

“Oh, hello, lover. Looks like I’ve got a new
boyfriend. Looking to replace yourself so soon?” The smile on her
face is electric and she wastes no time with it.

“Please let me come this time. I won’t be
able go for long in my current predicament.” she says in a begging
tone that makes my hard-on granite.

“Oh, believe me, I know. And I’m going to
help you with it.” I scoot onto the end of the lounge, opening her
legs in my lap. With her back and front sides buzzing, I go
straight up the middle…knuckle deep in search of her G-spot, and
less than one minute later she’s coming. Not once, not twice. But
three times, back to back. She rides her balance and tension in a
rhythm and delirium that makes me animal-desperate to be inside of
her, and when she rounds the end of her third orgasm, I know she’s
ready for me.

“Scout…now… Now I want it. Please, don’t
make me wait. Jesus…now…”

My pants are unzipped in seconds and I have
her flipped onto her belly as fast as I pull my hard cock out. I
lube the hell out of it, remove the anal toy, and slowly, tenderly
push my way into that very beautiful snug space.

“Scout. Oh God, yeah. Slow…slow, Scout.”

“Slow baby…so tight. Relax. There you are.
Oh God, baby, that’s right, relax….”

I pull her ass up, positioning her on her
knees, and I worship her straight through both of our orgasms in a
tender, sensuous moment that has me more ravenous than ever for
her.

*

Five days in a penthouse with Tess mostly
nude. Five days of an all-you-can eat-and-fuck-palooza. Five days
of her trust, her healing, our awakening. But let’s face it, once
you walk out of a bubble, new questions arise, things change,
realities set in in. Thankfully new answers come like water to a
drought.

“You look lost in thought. What’s going on
in that pretty little head of yours?”

Tess lies in my lap as we sit watching the
sunset from inside my pool house while it snows in a light flutter
outside. The beautiful thing about knowing Tess as long as I have
is that every little thing she does means something. The hair
twirling around her finger right now, that means the storm’s a
brewin’.

“Nothing,” she says, and flashes me a coy
fake smile—as if I’m not onto those, too.

“Nothing is not nothing with you. The
quieter you are, the more I hear you. Spill it, baby.”

She lets out a grunt-like sigh, flops her
arms open in surrender, looks straight at me, then quickly away
before she speaks. “I don’t want you to see me as someone who’s
fragile or weak.”

“Hey, listen. You’re allowed to struggle
with this now and again, but you are not allowed to go backwards.”
I force her chin up, making her look at my eyes.

“What, are you channeling your inner
football coach? What do you mean, I’m not allowed? Can I help my
feelings?”

“Do you want to live in limbo? Halfway in,
halfway out? That doesn’t seem much like you.” She rolls her eyes
at me along with another heavy sigh. “What are you struggling with?
You see how this feels…us together in this way? This is us. Your
soul found me once you quieted your mind. What are you stirring up
in there now? Come on, talk. I’m all ears.”

“Remember on the plane ride to Mexico, I
told you about that big deal plastic surgeon I read about? I still
have the appointment.”

“Why are you going to see him?”

“For me…for you. Because I still feel a
little bit broken and I want to be pretty all over. Too shallow? I
want you to look at me when I’m naked and see how I’m…I’m more
like…”

“Like what? Tess, sweetheart, there are
little jagged, broken pieces inside of everyone looking to match up
with someone else’s bits. I feel like ours finally fit. I thought
that’s what you were always wishing for?”

“I have always wished for that…for you. Yes,
every birthday candle, every eyelash was a wish on you. But I can’t
help it—I want my body to be more normal. My skin, my breasts. I
want you to touch smooth skin, not bumpy and ugly, scar-laden
skin.”

And here we go. Tess has never been this
person, but now that she has bared all, she wants it perfect to
boot. I get it, she’s a gorgeous woman who’s just exposed a piece
of herself that she never thought she would. For me, she’s already
perfect. Nothing she does to her scars will make me love her more
or less, but I know she has to love herself. I just hope that
doesn’t come at too great of a cost for who she really is
inside.

“Baby…dear God. You’ve already left your
mark on me. You did that eons ago. Yours was the first face I
loved. The taste of your mouth on mine is the taste of us. The feel
of your skin under my hands and my naked body is us. Smooth? Life
is not smooth. I don’t want smooth. I want you for all of you. You,
Tess. You are all kinds of beautiful—especially the magical kind.
Normal? Come on. Since when have you ever wanted to be normal?
You’re a standout woman, not a normal woman. Normal is vanilla,
sweetheart, and you are furthest thing from vanilla. Please fucking
connect that.”

“I still want to go and see the guy. It took
me forever to get in. Just please come with me. If nothing else,
it’ll answer some of my questions.”

I watch her pierce her nails into the palms
of her hands. I’m not immune to her continued angst over this whole
thing. I realize we’re still at the beginning of a long road of
healing.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Of course
I’ll go with you. And whatever you choose to do, I’ll support you.
But for me, you’re perfect. Don’t do this for me, okay? If you need
it for you, I’m cool with that. But I would imagine you’re talking
about a major investment of time, emotion, and pain, with likely no
guarantees and a hell of a lot of risk.”

“Yeah, I’ve done my research—apparently you
have, too?”

“Yeah, I did check him out after you told me
about him. He’s impressive, so if anyone can do it, it sounds like
his success record is impeccable. I have to ask, though: What if
you’re pregnant? We fucked for a week straight with no protection.
You know I’m happy as hell to be your baby daddy, but that could be
a deal-breaker for the skin grafting.”

“Well, if I am—which I’ll be squealing about
if that’s the case—I would wait. But, part of why I want it is
nipple reconstruction. I really want to breast-feed on both sides.
My right side will be fine, I think, but my left…not so much.”

“Will that leave you numb? You sure do seem
to like what you’re feeling now. You should have a list of
questions ready for him.”

She shoots me a partly vacant, insulted
stare. “Yeah, I have a list, Mr. Professor. Um, remember, I tutored
you in high school…straight into that football scholarship, I might
add. I got this, but thanks!”

“I’m only asking. I know you’ve got this.
You’re amazing, you know that. I always think of things and people
as stories, but you, Tess…you’re more like a poem than a story. My
forever and a day.”

“I think I hear a new song brewing.” Her
eyes dance as a viciously sexy smile skates the width of her
face.

“Sweetheart, every time I look at you,
there’s a new song brewing. I owe my career to you.”

“Ohh, you’re getting all cotton-candy sweet.
I love that you trust and believe in me. Please don’t ever leave
me. I made such shitty choices for us, and you stayed…you never
left.”

“Baby, I’m not cotton-candy sweet. In guys’
terms, I’m more like middle-of-the-pussy sweet. And I’ll never let
you lose me; I’d hate to be the cause of that much regret.” I grab
her by the waist and tickle the hell out of her tiny midriff. It
doesn’t take much for Tess to buckle, and my huge hands on her
little body seem like a baseball glove on a small ball.

“Oh, getting cocky, are you?”

“What am I to you, Tess, if not your cocky?
And I know you love my cocky. Probably ready for more cocky right
about now?” I trace my hands from her slender shoulders down to her
tight ass, then grip it firmly with both hands. It’s so small that
I can hold the entire thing in my two mitts.

“My wild blue yonder…take that. I got game,
too.”

“Oh yeah, I can up that.” I skate my hands
inside her shirt, across her taut belly until I reach her tiny
bikini top to feel her small, perfect breasts. Perfect to me,
anyway. “You will forever be my once in a blue moon.”

“Oh, I love it. I’m not as fancy as you are,
but I can pull these oldies out of my hat. You’re my Twinkie
birthday cake, my bubblegum-machine prize, my smoked oysters, my
red Swedish fish.”

“Kid stuff. I need some new inspiration…time
to get some lovin’ on.” I yank her swimsuit bottoms down, open her
legs to find her as turned on as I am. “That got you going
already?”

She’s soaked—how can I deny myself a taste
of her sweet? “Melting sugar for me, are you, my sweet steel
magnolia?”

“It’s all your fault,” she says while she
lifts her hips up into my mouth as I find my way through her
slippery folds. My tongue loves her, and the way she moves with it
and into it makes it pretty damn clear how much she loves my
tongue.

“I’m gonna take you on a little trip.”

“Yeah? Where to? Oh God…”

“Nirvana. Bring me a little souvenir.”

“I’ll smuggle something in…something sweet
and hot.”

Her taste is all woman. Her desire and
arousal are evident in every soft moan and the grip she holds on my
shoulders in as she eases herself into my mouth, undulating in slow
motion. The look of pure ecstasy rides her face, seemingly tearing
her apart as her orgasm nears. Wrapped in emotion, I feel her legs
trembling, her skin heated and slick with need, making me want to
bury myself deeply inside of her tight, wet pleasure.

Slowly rocking into me, she climaxes hard.
Her hands fist through my hair while she thrusts deep rolls of her
hips into my mouth. There’s nothing I love more than watching her
ride the edge of her ache as she comes undone, writhing under my
touch.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

TESS

I’m clear there’s not going to be any
spit-shining the mix of feelings I’m struggling with about my
appointment. I had no idea that baring myself to Scout would dredge
up all sorts of feelings of insecurity about my scars. In my mind,
no one was ever going to see this part of me, so I hid all of those
feelings practically before I became a teenager. It’s not that
puberty didn’t bring out a whole new buffet of emotion. I mean,
hell, it’s already a trying time—the developing body, hormones,
discovery of boys not to mention self—add to that a torso of
disfigured skin to hide from everyone’s eyes. A noxious Molotov
cocktail anyone would have a tough time dodging.

But, I managed, and my bag of tricks became
easy foils to use. Unfortunately, my tricks are all out on the
table now. I have nothing to duck behind and, with so many years of
hiding, being out in the open—although partly freeing—often feels
too naked for me. Hiding it became part of my identity, and the
very act of it has me now facing the truth of my personal
hypocrisy. I realize I can’t ask Scout to understand all of this.
I’m still trying to figure it out. To him, I’m sure it’s simple.
He’s not over thinking any of this; he can accept me for who I am.
The question is, can I accept me for who I am?

*

I hear them the moment I head down the hall
towards Scout’s home office, but what hits me as I approach the
door throws me into a helter-skelter bag of emotions.

“Seriously, look at these photos. It’s
pretty obvious she needs a full body of new skin.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. Check out the
headlights.”

I flatten myself against the wall, my heart
racing, insides twisting.

“I saw these gorgeous cans online the other
day—pure porn—I had to sneak these photos just so you could see
what I was talking about. Don’t tell her…and please, not Rox,
either. She’d die if she knew we were even having this
conversation.”

I scoot closer to the slightly open door.
Their booming voices thunder into me, every word a clear as a bell,
making me want to sink through the floor in humiliation. I feel all
the blood draining from me as wild rage replaces it.
She’d
die?
Hot tears sear my cheeks as I drag my nails up my thighs,
wanting to draw blood. I wish to hell I could move my feet, walk in
there, and rip their collective heads off.