Taking Mine (16 page)

“Shit,” he says, running his hand down his face. And it’s the first sign of hesitation. Stopping it mid thought, I sit up and pull his mouth to mine.

His kisses are slower, more controlled, so I nip at his neck, trying to get the fire back. He tightens his grip on my hips. “Lilly…” Deciding on another tactic, I slide my hand down his pants. His hips jerk against the feel of my palm on him. I stroke him leisurely a few times before I give him a strong pull. “Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth.

He retrieves a condom from his wallet, pinning me back to the table. “I’m sorry,” is the last thing he says before he pushes into me. I have no time to decipher the meaning before my back arches off the table. Justin’s forearm is banded around my lower back, pulling me down onto him. He doesn't bother to muffle his response, and it’s like throwing fire onto my already scorched body. I've never experienced being with someone in this way. It's raw, uncoordinated, and fucking fantastic.

We’re gripping each other so hard I’m positive there’s going to be bruising, neither one of us letting up. I trail my hands over his shoulders, feeling the muscles of his back as he pushes into me. And every push is a means to an end. There’s no other thought but getting what we both desire in one another.

I don’t have one coherent thought. Nothing else exists for these blissful moments. I was wrong when I said I felt like I was going to snap. No, it’s now, most definitely now. My entire body locks around his, chasing this spark until the edge when he meets me at the same point. His teeth clamp down on my shoulder, and I dig my nails into his sides, wanting this feeling to last forever.

We lay unmoving, him on top of me, our arms still around each other as we catch our breaths. He makes the first move, placing an open-mouth kiss on my shoulder, in the same spot he bit. He pulls away and helps me sit up, never taking his eyes off of mine. I keep my emotions in check, hoping I don’t show the amount of unease that seeped in with his departure. He disposes of the condom and pulls his pants up from around his thighs as I fix my shirt and bra.

“Shower?” he asks, unsure.

I pull some of the damp hair off my neck and nod. “Please.”

Laughing, he helps me to my feet, and I wince. “Are you okay?”

It’s my turn to laugh. “I think my entire body is going to be sore.”

His cheeks are tinged red, a flush covering his chest and neck. “The bathroom is in my bedroom to the right. Give me a second to clean up our mess.”

Walking with as much dignity as I can muster, I march my bare ass to his bedroom and I don’t stop to look at the queen-sized bed or dresser. Being alone is my only goal, and I shut the door behind me. It’s tiny, with a pedestal sink and the same tile on the walls as the kitchen. Sterile is the best word to describe Justin’s bathroom. Everything is plain, white, and extremely clean.

I cut the water on, adjusting the temperature as I get the remainder of my clothes off. A bottle of all-in-one body wash sits on the shelf next to the showerhead. I take a sniff, expecting it to smell like Justin, but it doesn’t. Justin smells clean but earthy. This smells pungent and closely resembles the horror of anything Axe.

“What are you thinking about?” Justin asks, pulling the shower curtain back and getting in. His arrival soothes some of the hurt from the kitchen. I stand with my back to the spray, slowly running the remaining soap from my hair. Instead of answering, I shake my head, half in confusion and lack of words to process it.

His eyes take me in and I do the same. We didn’t have a chance to take a moment to appreciate each other. I’ve never been particularly insecure. Only in times when I’ve had to stand in a room full of women did I ever feel judged for my body. But in front of Justin, I want to be perfect.

To fight my desire to cover my flaws, I reach out for him instead, placing my hands flat on his chest. His muscles jump underneath my touch. I don’t look up at him as I trail my hands up and over his shoulders, and down his arms, stopping when I see the marks. Nail marks cover his sides from his ribs to his shoulders.

Without the hurry from before, Justin leans his face into the crook of my neck. His chest rises deeply against mine as he breathes in. “I don’t want to say anything to ruin this,” he says into my shoulder. “But I need to tell you that I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

My breathing stills against his.

He lifts his head from my neck to look at me. “I tried to keep my distance from you, to not let it come this far, but I literally can’t stay away from you.”

Little droplets of water gather on the tips of his eyelashes, each blink releasing more. The dark circles under his eyes are still there but less visible than before, and I smile because I know that I eased whatever was troubling him, even if it wasn't in the smartest way.

“I never asked you to stay away.”

“I know.” His fingers trail the bite mark above my breast. He outlines the two crescent moons that face each other. Turmoil lurks behind his eyes as he starts in on the second bite on my clavicle.

Pulling his hand away, I run his fingers over my lips. “Quit thinking.”

“That's funny coming from you.”

His face is stoic, his eyes jumping over me. He kisses me. It’s chaste, a small kiss, but he’s close enough for me to feel him. “Let’s get cleaned up and watch a movie.”

“A movie?” I laugh.

“Got a thing against movies?”

“It’s just, I figured, you know, that I’d go home…now.”

“We’ve both been drinking. I don’t think driving is a good idea, and it’s too far to walk.”

“But isn’t this crossing a line? Staying after sex?”

“Lilly,” he says, a resigned smile on his face. “We’re watching a movie, just like when we’ve watched Family Feud and pigged out on potato chips.” Turning me around, he pins my body up against his and I can feel every inch of him. “Besides, we blew the line up when I fucked you in my kitchen.”

THE ROOM IS ENCOMPASSED
in darkness when I awake alone in Justin's bed. I'm completely cocooned within the blanket, hiding any bit of skin from the whirl of the ceiling fan. I went to bed with the fan definitely off, but apparently it was turned on in the middle of the night. Justin sleeps with every appendage stretched to its max capacity, and he ended up kicking the mountain of covers to my side. I don’t understand why he even has them if he refuses to use them.

Justin’s voice trails in from the crack in the doorway. Unsure of what time it is, I decide to get up and find my phone. I use the bathroom and redo my hair, thinking of saving Justin from my morning bed head and scarring him for life. Peeking out the door, I see him pacing the living room on the phone. Identifying that it’s safe to come out, I wrap the comforter around myself. His back is to me as I wade across the living room to get to my phone off the coffee table.

“I’m not sure,” he says into the phone. He rubs his eyes like he does when he’s particularly tired. “I haven’t figured that out yet.” His words clip off when he catches sight of me. “Look, Mom. I’ve got to go, but I’ll call you later, okay?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he hangs up.

“You don't have to get off the phone because of me.”

“I needed an excuse to get off, anyway. I don't know how long I could hold off the Spanish Inquisition.”

“She worries a lot about you?”

“You have no idea,” he says, shaking his head.

I scroll through my texts, getting more anxious with every missed call from Kip. “My brother's going to kill me.”

“Seems like we're both dealing with overprotective parents this morning.”

He's leaning his back against the bar, the same one we…yeah, he's drinking a cup of coffee. Nothing strange about this at all. And I feel like a complete pervert that I can't seem to find the will to think about anything other than touching him. I consider actually doing it, seeing where it goes, but he's completely dressed and ready for the day. I'm the one still nude. I text Kip and glance around the room and into the kitchen. “What did you do with my clothes?”

“I folded them. They’re sitting on top of the dresser.”

“Oh, I didn’t see them.” I walk past him to get to his bedroom, and we hold eye contact the entire way. Granted, it's like six steps, but it's long enough for me to see the heat in them. He turns away and walks into the kitchen.

When I do finally get dressed and gain the nerve to step out of the bedroom, I find him microwaving Pop-Tarts.

“You don’t have a toaster?” He jumps at the sound of my voice and I laugh. “You’re kind of jumpy this morning.”

He takes a bite of his Pop-Tart. “I like my Pop-Tarts warm, not crunchy.”

“Noted.”

“Want one?” he asks, holding out its pair.

“No thanks. I’ve got class in an hour and I still need to go home and change. I can’t think of anything worse than taking the walk of shame to class.” I expect a laugh, or at least a half-assed chuckle, but all he does is nod. “So….”

His phone rings, interrupting the awkward silence. He pivots around and grabs it off the counter. “Fuck,” he says, reaching for his keys and packet of cigarettes on the breakfast bar. “I’ve got to take this. We’ll talk later, okay?” He's at the door when he says, “Lock up on your way out.”

Disappointment. It’s a resounding feeling that echoes in my chest, in the same cavity that holds my breath and my heart. I’m aware of it even though I’m not a hundred percent sure I understand it. Technically, nothing was promised and false hope wasn’t given. It’s not one of those predicaments. Which kind of makes me feel worse about it. Justin’s too good of guy to do those things, and I’m too impetuous to stop it. It’s as much my fault, if not more so, that I’m feeling let down by him.

When I walk the two blocks back to the bar to get my car, it’s nowhere to be seen. I check the back parking lot even though I’m positive I didn’t park back there. I walk around the entire building before I notice the sign on the side of the building. After business hours, vehicles are towed upon discretion.

Fucking fantastic.

“
HOW MUCH MONEY
?”

“Five hundred.” Taylor counts out five one hundred dollar bills from his wallet and hands them to me. Confronting Taylor for money isn't something I wanted to do, but having my car impounded took the last few I had.

“Have you talked to Kip about the offer from Jimmy?”

“I’m going to tonight.”

He’s not overly enthusiastic with my answer, but it pacifies him for now. “Kaley’s been waiting for you. She’s in the lobby.”

“Why?”

“Hell if I know. Just don't forget about talking to Kip.”

I roll my eyes.

I find Kaley and Kip arguing, and I'm immediately positive it's concerning my whereabouts from last night. They both look up at me when I walk in. Kip’s expression is livid whereas Kaley’s is a mix between fear and anger.

“Where the hell were you last night?” Kip’s voice reverberates through my chest. It's louder than when he found out I started working for Taylor in high school. And I'd thought it couldn't get louder than that. “I went out with Kaley to a bar by the University.”

“Don’t treat me like a fucking idiot, Lilly. Tell me the truth.”

“Justin’s.”

“Justin’s,” he repeats. He eyes me for a moment before diverting his attention. Kaley and I wait in stony silence for him to say something else. “I want you to come straight home after work.” His tone is abrupt and to the point.

“What, are you punishing me?” I say, half laughing at the assertion.

“You can’t punish her,” Kaley yells in my defense.

“We agreed you'd be honest with me.” That's all he says before he leaves, throwing the guilt on thick.

“She’s twenty-two, for God’s sake,” Kaley yells at Kip’s retreating back.

Dan opens the shop door, peeking his head in.“Everything alright?”

“We’re fine,” she snaps, and he throws his hands up, letting the door fall back in its place. “It’s ridiculous how he tries to control you.”

“It’s fine, Kale. He’ll go home and calm down and we’ll talk it out. We always do.”

“So,” she drawls, turning the conversation around. “Justin’s?” I walk away, not giving in to her curiosity. The last thing I want right now is to relive the atrocity that was this morning. “Oh, come on,” she calls at my retreating back. “Was it good?” I open the shop door. “Give me a thumbs up if it was good,” she yells in a last ditch effort, so I flip her off.