Blame It on the Shame (Blame It on the Shame: Lou-Lou and Ricardo's Story #1) (31 page)

I close my eyes and try to breathe. I know he'll end this once I tell him to...that's what makes it near impossible for me to tell him to stop in the first place. Knowing he's the only person I can trust with my body.

Knowing he's the only man who will ever be capable of igniting these feelings and desires within me.

He draws slow and teasing circles along my inner thigh and my stomach somersaults.

“You want to know
how
I know you want
me
and not him?” he rasps.

My mouth opens in protest, but I still can't bring myself to say the words to make him stop.

He takes the opportunity to continue. “Remember the morning I caught you touching yourself?”

“Yes,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He presses into me harder and I feel his erection against my backside. It only brings this crushing need for what I can't have to the surface.

My traitorous body arches against him and he groans. “Do you know what I discovered after I thrust my cock against your pussy?”

I shake my head and he moves my shorts up my thighs. “I found a wet spot on my boxers caused by your juices. Hottest morning of my life.”

He nips at my neck hard, it's sudden and predatory. Then his tongue is over the spot, soothing the sting out. And I'm gone, losing myself in him.

“I dare you to tell me you want him and not me again, Lou-Lou. I fucking
dare
you.”

My mouth goes dry and all I can do is whimper.

He moves his hand away and I want to scream in frustration. “You have one of two choices,” he says. “ You can tell me to stop touching you and I
will
. Or, you can place my hands exactly where
you
want them.” His breath tickles my ear. “But you should know when that happens...I'm going to take over and make you come all over my fingers.”

My cheeks flush and I barely manage to stifle my moan.

He rolls me so that I'm lying on my back and he's hovering above me. “The choice is all yours.”

I don't think anymore because I won't let myself. I want this moment with him. I want him to do something that no one else has ever done.

I push my shorts down and put my hand on top of his before placing it directly over my panties.

His eyes darken and he bites his bottom lip and groans when his thumb slides along the damp crotch of my panties.

He strokes me in a teasing motion and I suck in a breath.

I close my eyes again because I can't be this brazen while looking at him. Especially when I’m about to do this.

I reach up and quickly unbutton the first three buttons. Then before I can talk myself out of it, I find the front clasp of my bra and undo it. The air causes my now exposed nipples to pucker and I fight back a shiver.

“Christ, your tits are perfect,” he growls, low and husky, right before his warm mouth closes over one of my nipples and he begins sucking.

The flick of his tongue is both hungry and feral. Our moans mix together, his deep and raspy; mine needy and frantic.

He moves to my other breast, his tongue laving it with the same attention.

I open my eyes and look down. The sight of his head buried between my cleavage and his big hands cupping and kneading me is almost too much to take.

In an act driven by pure lust and desire, I reach down and move my panties to the side, baring myself to him completely.

His mouth curves into a slow grin before his eyes become hooded and his expression grows dark and sultry.

He spreads my lips and glides his fingers along the moisture. “Do you know how long I've wanted to do this to you?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, my body suddenly in turmoil because as much as I'm in this amazing moment with him, I'm still trapped in other moments.

Horrible moments.

He pauses his movements and I feel so ashamed that I'll never be normal. “I'm sorry,” I whisper. “I'm sorry I'm so fucked up. You can stop. I don't want you to think you're doing something wrong when you're not.”

“Look at me, Lou-Lou,” he commands.

When I do he says, “You're not fucked up, you're beautiful. Every single part of you. Now, keep your eyes on me, got it?”

I nod and he rubs his thumb in a wet circle around my clit. “When I'm touching you, it's because I want to give you pleasure. It's
never
because I want to hurt you. Do you understand?”

I nod again and one of his fingers enter me. “Who's touching you right now?”

I look into his eyes. “You are.”

His thumb swirls around my clit again and I moan because it feels good....
so
fucking good.

I gasp when his finger goes deeper and a rush of wetness floods his hand. But I'm too far gone in ecstasy to feel any more shame.

“Fuck,” he groans.

He slips his finger out before entering me again. This time, he pushes two fingers inside me and starts moving them in and out of me in a perfect rhythm.

The sounds of his fingers pumping into my slickness fill the night air, further enhancing my arousal.

I fist the blanket. “Oh, god.”

“You like the way I'm touching you, baby? The way I’m finger fucking this sweet pussy of yours?”

“Fuck, yes,” I scream.

I don't know
who
this unabashed girl is writhing underneath him but I like her.

And the expression on Ricardo's face tells me he does too.

When I utter his name in a long, drawn out sigh, he curses under his breath.

He stares down at me from underneath his long lashes, his expression penetrating. “I love the way you say
my
name when I'm stroking your tight pussy.”

He gives me a cocky smirk. “And I can't wait to hear you scream it when I make you come.”

He coils his fingers deep inside me and flicks my clit with his other hand. My hips begin bucking and that's all it takes for me to completely unravel.

When I take my next breath, my clit throbs and stars explode behind my eyes. It's so intense I latch onto his fingers for dear life and scream his name into the heavens before sputtering a curse.

And that's when the trembles begin...because I feel something else entirely.

Fear.

I gave him so much more than my orgasm.

I gave him my heart.

And that was the most
dangerous
and
stupid
thing to do.

I push him off me and ignore the hurt across his face.

I pull my shorts up and start making my way out of the field when he grabs my elbow. “Whoa, what's the matter? Why are you running away?”

“That was a mistake.” He takes a step closer but I take a step back and cross my arms. “I love your father.”

“Goddammit.
Stop
saying that, Lou-Lou. We both know it's
not
true.”

He puts his hands on his hips and blows out a breath. “Maybe we moved too fast back there. That was my fault. I'll slow down, I promise. Come back and—”

“No!” I scream. “What
don't
you understand, Ricardo? I don't want you. I'm in love with your father. I already told you...I choose
him
.”

His face falls. “I know you're only saying these things to hurt me...and I know you're only hurting me because you're overwhelmed—”

“You're wrong...I'm saying it because it's the truth.”

I look down at the ground, fighting back tears. “Now take me home.”

Defeat splashes across his face. “Fine. Let's go.”

I look at the vases full of dandelions one last time and my heart crumbles.

I learned the cold, hard, truth back when I was a little girl.

Wishes never come true for girls like me.

Chapter 22 (Ricardo)

A little over 3 weeks have come and gone.

A little over 3 weeks of Lou-Lou ignoring me, pushing me away...but always ending up in my bed and in my arms every single night.

She can deny it all she wants but I know she doesn't want to go back to DeLuca.

I don't want her to either.

We were both ecstatic when he called the third week in August and said his arrival would be delayed for another week.

I tried getting her to open up to me about what's going on inside her head, but she won't.

I tried telling her that I can't help ease her fears if she won't
tell
me what they are...but still no dice.

She's stuck in her '
team of one
' mentality again.

Which can only mean one thing.

She still doesn't trust me.

And if that's the case...I'm afraid she
never
will.

Every time she tells me she loves him, I fight the urge to put my fist through the goddamn wall.

I'm losing her every single day that goes by.

I'm losing the girl who makes me happy
and
drives me fucking crazy.

I'm losing the girl who makes me want to push her off a cliff and then jump in to save her at the last possible second.

Her wall is back up and I can't get through to her...the only thing she'll let me do is hold her every night while she
insists
on telling me how much she wants and loves
him
.

It's fucking torture.

After three weeks straight of this...she
almost
has
me
convinced it's the truth and I'm ready to give up.

I keep telling her that I'll find a way to get her to stay here...but it's like it goes in one ear and out the other.

Hell, even Tyrone and Jackson have noticed our 'fake relationship' is having major problems.

Jackson told me I'd be better off without her and muttered under his breath that I needed to stop trying to be '
captain save-a-hoe
.'

Tyrone smacked him in the back of the head and told him to just wait until
he
meets a girl that does to him what Lou-Lou does to me.

I was ready to punch Jackson after that comment but he sat me down and started ticking things off his fingers.

Things like—One, the first time he saw her she was passed out drunk in my arms. And the first
day
he met her she accused his friend of raping her.

Two—the first
week
she was here he was breaking up a fight between me and Tyrone.

Three—the day before she went on a date with Tyrone she was throwing herself at
him
in the locker room.

Four—the fact that her ring girl uniform was on the floor of his living room one night...and yet she was leaving
my
apartment the next morning in nothing but her bra and panties.

Five—I almost killed
him
in the ring that day because I was upset over something having to do with
her
.

And finally...he said she's too 'territorial'. He said that her beating Scarlet into a bloody pulp was a huge red flag. And the fact that
Momma
doesn't like her should tell me something.

I wanted to argue and tell
him
that things
aren't
always what they seem...but I couldn't.

Because I can't tell him everything she's been through.

I can't tell him the truth...period.

After he left, Tyrone pulled me aside and told me to fight for her.

When I questioned him further...he said that the heart wants what the heart wants. And sometimes the juice was worth the squeeze in the end. But he said that in
my
case, I needed to take control and stop the lemon from rolling off the damn table first.

Clearly,
their advice has only made me more conflicted.

I'd fight for her but what's the use in fighting for a girl who doesn't want you?

What's the point of fighting for a girl who's not yours in the first place?

I told her I'd never take something from her that she didn't give me and I meant it.