FLAME (Spark Series) (14 page)

He pulls a nipple in between his teeth aggressively, making me yelp out in surprise. “Drew!”

“I don’t like games, remember?”

“It’s not a game, I promise. Go…lower and you’ll find it,” I direct, laying helpless on the bed as his full body consumes me.

He grabs my hips as he lowers himself, kissing down my stomach, and around my belly button. His hands spread my legs open, revealing a brand new clit piercing.

“Bloody hell.” I watch as his eyes widen at my newest addition. “That’s going to make me come before I even get inside you.”

He kisses the inside of my thigh, slowly making his way to my pussy. I’m on edge as I wait for him to suck on it, feeling the sensation for the first time. I’ve been anticipating it for the past few days as I let it heal, but now…now it’s game on.

“Stop torturing me.”

“I’m just getting you ready, Doll.” He kisses the outside of my pussy, still not giving me what I need.

I’m ready…so fucking ready.

I squeeze my hands in his hair, forcing his head to move where I want it. I hear him laughing as he accepts my orders.

“I can’t wait to tie you up later,” is the last thing he says before diving in.

“Oh my god…” My eyes roll to the back of my head as my eyelashes flutter from the intense sensation riveting through me. He takes the piercing in his mouth and rolls his tongue over it gently, making me quiver. I fist his hair harder, demanding he take me completely.

I’m eager to feel what sex is going to be like with the piercing, but as Drew’s
per usual
, he spends an eternity down south making sure I’ve been fully sucked.

“Inside…now,” I pant, digging my nails into the sheets for leverage as his mouth gets more and more aggressive. “Please.”

I feel him stand up, leaving me breathless on the edge of the bed. I hear him walk to my drawer of toys before returning.

“I wasn’t kidding about tying you up,” he says seriously. “But I have a gift for you of my own.”

My eyes pop open as he holds a flogger in his hands. “What the hell is that?”

“I’m surprised you don’t know.” He grins.

“I know what
that
is,” I fire back. “What the hell are you doing with it?”

It isn’t that I don’t enjoy toys, or even some good rough sex, but I’m usually the one controlling the scene.  There have been times in the past that a guy had wanted to use toys, but I always had the pleasure of using it on them, never the other way around.

“We’re going to try something new,” he explains. And because I trust him, I let him continue. “Turn around, face down,” he orders. It’s strange being on the other end of this, but at the same time, it’s getting me more fired up than ever.

I comply and lay on my stomach in the middle of the bed. I feel it dip as his body towers over mine. I hear him wrestle in the nightstand again, this time clinking handcuffs as he pulls them out.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he demands. I do as he says and let him handcuff me. He grabs one pillow and places it under my head, giving my face somewhere to rest. He then takes another pillow and puts it under my hips, arching my back up higher.

He then puts the blindfold over me, adjusting my hair and making sure I can’t see. I’m surprised he doesn’t put the gag in my mouth, but rather he continues digging around in my drawer, pulling stuff out.

He grabs my legs and bends them back, laying against my hands. “Shit, you’re flexible,” he growls. He adjusts the pillow, making sure it’s aligned just right.

I should feel completely exposed and vulnerable right now, but the truth is, I don’t. I feel totally comfortable in my own skin around him. I know he’ll take care of me, and I trust anything he does.

He lightly brushes the flogger up and down my spine. It’s feels feather-light as he brushes it over my hands and legs, but it’s enough to make me body shudder from the sensation.

Giving in to Drew is turning out to be more exhilarating than I ever thought possible.
One-by-one, he has broken down my walls, gained my trust, and made me realize what I’ve been missing all these years. And most importantly, he’s taught me…love. It might not have been the insta-love I’ve read in my novels, or even falling over myself to get to him kind of love, rather it’s a love for myself. To truly allow someone in, I’ve had to love myself enough to know I’m worthy of
his
love.

“Drew, baby…I need you,” I moan, desperately pleading for him to get inside me.

I hear him throw the flogger and align himself with my entrance. I feel him enter, leaning deeper into me as my body openly welcomes him. He brings his lips to my ear, kissing and sucking hard on the lobe.

“You look fucking perfect like this,” he whispers. My eyes roll to the back of my head again as his accent rolls off his tongue. I’ll never get sick of hearing him talk. However, hearing him whisper in my ear during sex…is enough to make me explode on command.

“Go as deep as you can,” I beg. Being in this position, with my hands behind my back and my legs bent back, gives him the perfect opportunity to pound hard into me.

He complies, grabbing my hips and digging himself deeper inside me. The piercing adds in an even more intense sensation. It rubs against my clit as his cock thrusts in and out of me. It stimulates my nerves, giving me a more intense orgasm. It’s not long before we’re both screaming out in ecstasy, enjoying each thrust he pounds into me.

“Fucking hell.” He rolls off me and pants on the bed. He gently takes the blindfold off. I turn and face him, getting a good look at his flushed face. “I don’t know how you do that to me every time.” He brushes my hair out of my face and lays a single kiss on my nose. “But you do.”

15

One month later

I’ve been a first-class witness to Velaney and Eric’s relationship since the beginning.
It’s ironic to think how much she’s been through, how much he stood by her, and how much I pushed her to the realization that it was okay to let Eric in—that it was okay to let him love her. Yet, here I am, fighting my own battle.

It’s Sunday night and even though Laney isn’t here, I keep up with our old movie night routine. I tell Drew I’m busy tonight, as I just need a night to myself.

I begin a
Cruel Intentions
marathon and make a bag of popcorn. It reminds me how Laney used to tease me for enjoying this movie so much. I’d argue it was because of Ryan Phillippe, but truthfully, it was so much more than that. For some reason, I needed to know that I wasn’t the only fucked up person in this world and watching this movie helped me realize that. It validated that it was okay to want sex without relationships.

But now as I watch it this time, I feel differently. I don’t connect with Ryan’s character, Sebastian. I loathe him, actually. I even feel sorry for him. By the time he realizes what he feels for Reece’s character, Annette, it’s almost too late.

I can’t help but see the similarities between the movie and my own life. The more I push people away, the more I’m bound to end up like Sebastian—dying with regret.

I pass out on the sofa and wake up bright and early as the sun rises. I have the day off, so I decide to do some cleaning. It always helps clear my mind, and that’s exactly what I need right now.

I begin with organizing the living room—folding the blankets, vacuuming the floor, dusting the furniture. I crank the tunes and dance around as I pick up.

I open the coat closet and notice a few extra things. Drew’s jacket, boots, and bag.
What the hell did he go home in?
I look at them and try to think of when he could’ve left these here. I shrug it off and close the door.

Next, I go to my bathroom and start sweeping. I grab the cleaner and spray down the countertop and sink. I open up a drawer to throw my brushes back in when I notice more of Drew’s things—a toothbrush, razor, comb, and cologne. I grab the bottle and bring it to my nose, inhaling Drew’s scent.

I had no idea he was leaving his things here. And I’m not sure how to feel about it. On one hand, it makes complete sense—he’s
always
here. On the other, it’s almost as if he’s moving in—something I’ve
never
allowed or even been close to allowing before.

However, it kind of feels comforting. Knowing we’re at that stage is both scary and nerve-racking, but for the first time ever, I don’t mind.

“Hey, Doll. How’s your day?” he asks as we talk on the phone.

“It’s great. Been doing some cleaning. How’s yours?” I clean up clothes off my bedroom floor as we talk.

“Busy. Studying for these bloody midterms.” He sighs.

“How about you come over after your class, and I’ll help you…relax.”

“Hmm…” I can hear the smile in his voice. “That’s very tempting, but I have study group this afternoon.” He sounds worn down, and I feel bad for him. When we aren’t together or just chillin’ at the apartment, he constantly has his nose in a book.

“Are you sure you have to go? I’ll make it worth your while…” I say seductively.

“Trust me, Doll.  I’d do anything to be with you right now. But these girls are hounding me.”

I halt in my steps. “Um…
girls
? Hounding you? Does that mean the same thing in England as it does in America?”

I hear him chuckle and it pisses me off. I know he has classes with other girls. I’m not delusional, but to hear him talk about them, and having to work with them, makes me insanely jealous.

“Hounding me to get our project done,” he clarifies. “We have a group presentation due on Friday.”

I shuffle clothes around and find some of Drew’s.
Seriously…what is he leaving in?
I throw them over my arm to add them to the dirty pile when something drops out of the pocket.

I lift the foil packet off the floor, giving it a good look. We haven’t been using condoms in months. He’s the only guy I’ve ever gone bareback with, so why in the hell does he have a condom in his pants pocket?

Rage overcomes me as I think about why he would possibly have a condom. We never said we were exclusive…
are we exclusive?
He’s made it clear several times we’re together, but does that officially mean anything?

I haven’t slept with another guy since our first night together, so I had assumed he wasn’t sleeping around either.

“So, umm…you’ll be with the study group all night then?” I ask cautiously. I’m doing my best not to give the jealous girl act, but it’s really fucking hard right now. I want to ask him about the condom, but I don’t want to accuse him.

“Yeah…we have to do some research and build a PowerPoint together. Then discuss who’s speaking when. It’s bloody stupid, but whatever, it’s our midterm grade.”

“Oh,” is all I say. I continue staring at the condom in my hand.
Do I say something?

“I can swing by afterward…” he offers with hope in his voice.

“Um…” I stare at the condom once more before tossing it on the dresser. “No, no, that’s okay. You worry about getting your work done.”

“Okay, Doll. I gotta run.”

We exchange goodbyes and I collapse on the bed. God, I hate this feeling. It’s new and foreign, and I don’t know what to do with it. Jealousy, rage, anxiety—all mixed together along with a tightness in my chest. Is that what it feels like? I’ve never felt insecure like this before. My heart is screaming at me to calm the fuck down, that Drew is into me as much as I’m into him. However, my head is screaming
cheater, cheater!

I grab up his pants, condom, shit from the bathroom and coat closet, and I shove it all into the bag he left behind. I can’t let him move in under my nose without me knowing! I need to know the truth without asking him…

*   *   *

I clean my apartment until it smells like Mr. Clean
orgasmed
everywhere. It hasn’t been this clean in…
ever
. I’ve never had this much on my mind before. Nothing has ever bothered me the way this is bothering me now.

Now that I’m done cleaning, Drew is consuming my mind. I want to know what he’s doing, who he’s with, if he’s thinking of me.

O
h my god…I have gone from confident to insecure…

It’s almost dinner time, and I know he’s probably still with his study group, but I can’t resist texting him anyway just to find out for sure.

Carissa:
How was class?

Drew:
Boring. I miss u.

Carissa:
Really?

Drew:
Of course. I always miss u, Doll.

My heart clenches as I read his text messages. I can hear his voice in my head as I read his responses, and it makes me wish I could grab him through my screen and kiss him.

Carissa:
So when were u going 2 tell me u moved in?

I hesitate before hitting send, but I think he’ll see the humor in it. I’m not one for jumping down someone’s throat over nothing, but I need to get to the bottom of this.

Drew:
Ur smart. I knew you’d figure it out. ;)

Ugh…what a cocky son-of-a-bitch. Perfect time to slip in the condom question.

Carissa:
So will ur other gf be moving in with us 2?

That should confuse the hell out of him.

Drew:
What other gf?

Carissa:
The one ur using a condom with. Found it in ur pants pocket. U need it back?

I know I’m being a bitch, but it’s the only way. I can’t let him think it’s affecting me if he is seeing someone else. This is exactly why I need to be guarded.

Drew:
I’m not seeing anyone else, if that’s what you’re thinking.

Carissa:
Idc. Do what you want.

Drew:
Can I come over?

Carissa:
I’m busy tonight. Thought u had study group anyway.

I don’t know how to do this…

I don’t know how to be this girl. I’m not supposed to cling to him. I learned that lesson from my first boyfriend, Damon, who I clung to and only ended up getting my heart smashed. All the worrying and stressing over what Damon was doing without me, who he was flirting with, or worse, who he was sleeping with behind my back practically gave me an ulcer. Sure, we were the
it
couple in school, but that was it. He used me and dumped me.

But Drew—I know he’s different. I’ve let him in deeper than I’ve ever let any guy in before. I’ve let him in so far that I know I’m falling for him. These strong feelings I have for him go way deep into my soul. I can barely function some days without him. It’s like clinging to Damon all over again.

I expect Drew to text back and fight to come over, but he doesn’t. In fact, he doesn’t text back at all. The silence is worse than any bullshit he was going to try and feed me in order to make me believe he’s not seeing anyone else.

If we haven’t used a condom in months, why else would he have it? There has to be legit reason, but I can’t think of one.

I toss my phone on the kitchen counter and decide to get in the shower. Cleaning all day has made me feel sweaty and gross. Plus, I needed to get him off my mind.

I turn the knob to a scorching-hot level, letting the steam fill the room before I jump in. I stand completely still under the showerhead, allowing the water to run down my body. I can’t think. I can’t move. And for the first time in months, I let myself cry.

I’m not sure why, but I just need to. I always hold everything in, and now it’s just too much. Velaney moving away has been harder on me than I realized. We talk on the phone a couple times a week and text, but it’s just not the same without her here. I’m happy and proud of her. I’m happy that she’s happy, but I miss my best friend. I miss my other half.

I think about the last few months with Drew. They’ve been incredible. We have a blast together, and although I know it’ll be coming to an end, I’ve allowed myself to fall for him.

I give Laney updates whenever she asks, but I try not to tell her too much. The more I talk about him out loud, the harder it is. There’s a part of me that’s holding back, unwilling to give myself to him completely.

It can’t last.

No matter what scenario I play in my head, Drew and I won’t last. We can’t. He’ll be here for two more months, and then he’ll graduate. And then what? I’m left to pick up the broken pieces of my heart…
alone
.

And should I really be surprised? Couples like Laney and Eric don’t happen very often. She comes with as much emotional baggage as I do, yet she was able to find someone. Someone who loved her know matter what fucked up situation they found themselves in, someone who stuck by her even when she pushed him away, someone who gave her everything she always wanted—
love.

The scary part—Drew could be that person for me. But thousands of miles will eventually separate us.

The more I analyze this whole thing, the harder I sob. I spin around and put both hands on the shower wall, letting the water cascade down my back. I try to breathe slowly and get my crying under control, but it only gets worse.

The sobs are so loud, I don’t hear the shower door swing open. At this point, I pray it’s an axe murderer who will just take me out of my damn misery.

“Carissa.” I hear Drew’s voice from behind me. I don’t move, letting him comfort me by wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in close. My hands continue to keep me up, otherwise I’d be on the shower floor in the fetal position by now.

“Shhh…” he whispers, rubbing my head. “Please don’t cry.”

His voice is so soothing, it calms me. I spin around and face him, getting a full view of his bare muscular body. It’s hard not to gasp every time I see him naked—between the tattoos and muscles, he’s breathtaking.

“What are you doing here?” I finally ask.

“I came to see you. I want to explain. I knew by your messages that you were thinking the worst,” he explains genuinely, rubbing a hand over my wet cheek.

“You don’t have to explain anything. It’s not like we’re bound together by marriage. You’re free to do whatever you want,” I say, choking back a sob because it hurts to even think about him being with anyone else.

“I’m not seeing anyone else but you. It’s only always been you, Doll. I carry a condom in my pocket because I want to be safe and smart. If one day you decide you want us to use one again, I want to be prepared.” He pauses, smiling down on me. “I don’t ever want to assume anything with you, so I carry it with me just in case.”

“You carry a condom in your pocket every day?” I ask, shocked.

“Yes. Because honestly, it reminds me of you when we aren’t together. I know it’s stupid, but it reminds me of what we have, our connection, and how close I feel to you when we’re together. Not using them reminds me how intimate things are with us. I’ve never had that with anyone else before. Ever.”