Afraid to Fly (Fearless #2) (6 page)

“Aw, cuz, I didn’t know you cared. Of course, I know that. That’s why on the 8
th
day, God said,
“Let there be Trojans!”
And little rubbers fell from the sky in a majestic sheet of latex rain.”

That shut Blaine up, as he was too busy busting a gut, a tattooed hand covering his mouth.

“You know those aren’t 100%, right?” I asked between sucking in gulps of laugh-strangled oxygen.

“What? Bull. Shit.”

“No, seriously. I think it’s 98% or something like that. And considering the breeds you pick up, you might need to double up before you catch fleas.”

I swear, I witnessed every drop of blood drain from CJ’s face in about 3.2 seconds. “Excuse me,” he muttered before jetting off to the men’s room. Blaine and I cracked up even harder than before.

“That was cold, man,” he said, popping the top of another beer and setting it in front of me. On top of being a solidly decent guy, he was a good bartender. Especially since I drank and ate here just about every day for the super low price of
free.
So yeah . . . another reason why I couldn’t hate the guy. He was maddeningly unhateable.

“Well, better he learn that now instead of the hard way. Shit, could you imagine if he got some chick knocked up? CJ? A dad? I wouldn’t trust him with a cactus, let alone a kid.”

Blaine nodded his agreement before drifting over to the other side of the bar to take an order. When he returned, mixing up some type of cocktail that required melon vodka, Midori and a lollipop, I figured I better just come clean with the real intent behind my visit. You know, besides the free beer.

“I had lunch with Kam today,” I mentioned casually.

“Oh yeah?” Pour, shake, stir.

“Yeah. She said something about your ex being in town?” I knew I was dead wrong to get involved in their private business, and Kam would probably have my head for betraying her confidence, but I had to know where she stood in all this. I had to know that she was safe, her heart and that precious unborn baby protected. And while I knew that Blaine had been good to her up to this point, an ex-wife could easily change all that.

Blaine looked up from the drink he was making but didn’t say a word until he slid it over to the waiting customer. He let the other bartender on duty handle the next few drinks and came to stand right in front of me, leveling his knowing stare at me.

“Yes, she is. And no, nothing has changed. I love Kami, and I love our baby. And Amanda remains exactly where she was—in the past. Kam and our child are my future. Good enough for you?”

“Whoa.” I held up both hands in mock surrender, taken aback by his brusque tone. Blaine was one of the coolest, most level-headed guys I’d ever met. But right now, he looked as if he wanted to knock my teeth out. “Look, I’m just looking out for my friend. If she’s uncomfortable with a situation, then it is my duty to ensure she’s ok.”

“Actually, no it’s not. It’s
my
duty to protect her. You should both know I would never do anything to hurt her. After what happened last year . . .” He cringed at the memory of finding Kami beaten and bloody on the floor of our once-shared apartment. The image still haunted my thoughts daily and always would. You just don’t forget the vision of the most precious part of you dying on the ground with a monster hovering over her naked body, lusting over all the ways to defile her. “I can’t fathom the thought of her ever experiencing an ounce of pain. I get what you’re doing, and I appreciate that you’re her best friend, but please . . . let me be her man. Have some faith that I can love her the way that she deserves to be loved.”

At that, I couldn’t argue a damn thing. He was right. I was overstepping, and I needed to back off. I was man enough to admit it too. “My bad. I guess old habits die hard. We good?” I extended a fist, and waited for him to bump it.

“Yeah,” he said, after letting me sit there and stew for a good half minute. “We’re good. You’re lucky Kam loves you so much. I might have had to toss out the fish tacos Mr. Bradley saved for you.”

I could have kissed him right then and there. “Please tell me you aren’t just playing with my emotions.”

“Naw. Kam insisted after she stopped by after you two had lunch. She told me what you said, and we talked. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“I guess we’re even,” I shrugged.

We had easily shifted back into casual chatter, when Alyssa walked in with two of her girlfriends, minutes later. She wore simple slacks and a lavender, lightweight sweater. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun that only brought my naughty schoolteacher fantasy to life even more. She didn’t wear much makeup, which made my mind shift to Raven.

Raven West.
Where the fuck did you come from, and why the fuck are you invading my thoughts?

I shook it off. Even if she hadn’t given me the Elsa treatment and been a cold bitch, she was now officially off limits. Dealing with a student’s guardian was just messy, and I actually wanted to help Toby if he’d let me. I couldn’t do that by helping myself to his sister.

So tonight’s distraction would be Alyssa. She would do just fine.

It took little persuasion to get her to come home with me. And hardly any effort to get her naked on my bed. Turns out, Alyssa was a horny little thing, and not above picking up guys in bars, although she’d insisted she had “never done this sorta thing before.”

Riiight. Because she always wore crotchless panties for a roomful of 5-year-olds.

Just as I had predicted, Alyssa was a freak. I barely had my pants undone before she dropped to her knees and wrapped her lips around my dick. I tried to slow her down—early release was not part of the game plan—but she was just so hungry for it. She made the greediest little noises whenever I hit the back of her throat, which was often. Apparently, gagging wasn’t an issue for her, and that was definitely a plus.

I stopped her with a gentle hand on the back of her head and eased out of her mouth with a loud
pop.
She looked disappointed at first, but then I helped her to her feet and kissed her swollen lips, stroking her tongue slowly with mine to show her the rhythm I preferred. Rushing would only make our time go by faster, and I desperately needed her to fill the emptiness just a little while longer.

She grasped my shoulders as I kneaded her back while walking her backwards towards the bed. My lips never left hers, and I never stopped touching her. If I did, it would all come rushing back. The memories would creep in and steal me from this moment, sending me into a fit of tremors so bad that I wouldn’t be able to do more than curl up in a corner and cry. That had only happened twice before I realized what was happening. I had allowed myself to think about what I was doing, instead of just letting my body focus on physical pleasure. Sex was like a soothing balm to the remembrance of pain. Pain, shame, disgust, humiliation. It helped to quiet them all.

Without warning, she spun around in my arms and kneeled on the bed on all fours, hiking her ass in the air. “Come on, you naughty boy. I want it hard. Make me hurt. Make me scream. Tonight, I want you to fill both my tight, little holes.”

I nearly vomited on her and her tight, little holes.

I took a moment to regain my composure, closing my eyes and inhaling through my nose and exhaling out of my mouth for a count of ten. Kami had helped me with some breathing techniques. It helped to tame the rising bile that was singeing my throat.

“Can you turn over?” I managed to ask, my eyes still closed. I could almost imagine her confused expression as she shuffled onto her back. Shit, I didn’t want to embarrass her, but I also didn’t want to explain why that position was off limits. Just the sight of it . . . it was too much to even imagine.

When I reopened my eyes, she was indeed on her back, but her legs were fused together. Still, she was here, and that meant she wanted me. Being wanted was what I lived for. The feeling of being desired and needed, even if it was superficially, had become a necessity for me.

I approached her slowly, letting my eyes take in her soft, feminine curves. That’s what I loved the most about women—their softness, their delicateness. It made them appear breakable, just like me. And it made me appreciate that vulnerability, in hopes that someone could—and would—one day, appreciate mine.

That’s why even though I never offered more than a few hours of toe-curling pleasure, I assured each second was spent tending to their sexual desires and making them feel treasured. Just because I was a whore, it didn’t make me callous or uncaring. If anything, it made me more aware of my humanity.

I pushed it all away, trading my own hang-ups and idiosyncrasies for the mental numbness that sex could provide and did what I do best: Fuck. I was good at this part—touching, kissing, licking. And when we were both ready—too ravenous with desire to consider my aversions—I drove into her slowly, all the way to the hilt. Until her body completely covered mine and soothed the ache of loneliness with wet warmth. This was the feeling I had been chasing since I was just a child, barely a man. That sweet oblivion that only mindless sex could provide. I was made whole by emptying myself into another, and for the barest of moments, I became separate from my pain and anger. I became the type of man that could look himself in the mirror and not see the horror of his past standing behind him, its razor sharp claws cutting into the skin of his shoulders while it smiled in that sinister way that still made my skin crawl.

I had seen that malevolence in my dreams every day since as long as I could remember. Sometimes it was in the form of a smile, a laugh. Sometimes it wore the face of ecstasy and passion. But it was always terrifying.

I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling long after Alyssa had passed out in blissful exhaustion. She came twice, once by my tongue, the other with her ankles on my shoulders. She was a screamer, and I kept wondering if Angel would bust in here, wondering if I was fucking or killing the girl. Then, if Alyssa was up for it, she’d join, like she had just this past weekend with Cherri. It wasn’t that we wanted each other in that way—oh hell no. We were just better . . . together. It made it even easier to get out of our heads and lost in the movement of our bodies.

It was co-dependent like a motherfucker. And unhealthy. And unconventional. But it was all we knew.

I looked over at Alyssa who was sleeping soundly on her stomach. I had hoped she would be gone by now, being a teacher and all that jazz. But after orgasm #2, I swear she blacked out.

My eyes roamed the milky, soft expanse of her body, drifting over her slight hips and the petite roundness of her backside. I reached over to graze her skin, soaking in her warmth like a leech. God, how I wished this could be enough. I even wished
she
could be enough, or someone like her. Someone sweet and kind and gentle. Someone that didn’t know about the ugly scars I bore deep inside me. The ones that had been left by wounds so deep and wide that no amount of intimacy could fill it.

I climbed out of bed and picked up a pair of pajama bottoms from the floor. My room was a mess, as always, but even more so since Kami had moved out. She would have had a fit if she could see it now—littered with dirty clothes, half-empty beer bottles and wine glasses, and condom wrappers. I knew it was disgusting, but it was hard for me to care when the women I slept with didn’t care either.

After making a pit stop in the kitchen for a bottle of water, I padded to the other end of the hallway to Angel’s room. The door was closed, but I didn’t hear any noises that suggested she wasn’t alone. I didn’t even know if she was home. But I opened it anyway, and entered the darkness, hoping to find refuge.

“Nightmare?” she whispered groggily when I sat on the edge of her bed.

“Can’t sleep.”

The bed dipped as she shifted over to make room for me without me even having to ask. I climbed in and Angel covered us both with the covers. I laid facing her but not really seeing her against the shades of midnight that filtered through the curtains. She pressed her chest into mine, her breasts covered only by a thin layer of satin, and wrapped her arm around my waist. I imagined her nipples were visible through the scant nightie and could even feel them pebble and harden against my bare skin. It didn’t stir any sexual feelings inside me though. I had stopped looking at Angel like that a long time ago. This was solely for comfort. It was a necessity of our survival.

I finally fell asleep sometime around 2 am, clinging onto Angel’s tiny frame like she was my lifeline, and I was drowning in a sea of sharks. I had only begun to drift into the deep recesses of my mind when I was thankfully awoken by the sounds of our front door closing around dawn. Alyssa had left, and obviously didn’t care to come find me to say goodbye. Guess she did “that sorta thing” more often than she was willing to admit.

“That chick sounds like a dolphin when she comes,” Angel murmured, her eyes still closed.

“She kinda looked like one too,” I admitted. Alyssa’s O-face seriously needed work, but who was I to complain? She came, I came, what more could I ask for?

“Dude, I can still smell her cooch on your rank-ass morning breath. Tell her to lay off the asparagus, for fuck’s sake.”

I snickered before pulling her closer into my chest, placing her head under my chin. We had slept like that for the remainder of the night—chest to chest, holding each other tight. “Jealous?”

“That I didn’t get any pussy last night? Hell yes.”

I kissed her crown of blonde locks. “Sucks for you.”

“Eh. I’m not into sea creatures anyway. You can keep Flipper.”

We lay in each other’s arms until the sun was firmly pressed into the cloud-scattered sky. I wasn’t ready to get up, and neither was she, but the day beckoned us both. Plus I had something to look forward to—seeing Toby, and ultimately, Raven, again.