Damage Me (Crystal Gulf Book 2) (30 page)

He winked and grabbed his own shirt. When he looked at me like that, it was hard to deny how sexy he was. I didn’t know if it was what we had done, how he made me feel, or just him, but as I stopped and stared at the way his lips looked puffy from my kiss and his abs rippled as he lifted his arms over his head to put his shirt on, I couldn’t help wanting to fall back into bed with him. Maybe I’d change my mind and give him my virginity right now. I could only imagine how good that would feel, to let Dylan have my body completely. My core clenched at the memory of his fingers. They’d felt like they wouldn’t fit, and his finger in my bottom had felt even larger, but both of them together had submerged me in the most intense sexual feeling of my life.

“Stop,” his deep voice whipped out. “Go shower.”

I hadn’t realized I’d been walking toward him, lip between my teeth, clothes back on the floor. I didn’t stop. I kept going.

He held his hand up. “Hillary. Go shower.” There was no hesitation in his order. “You said no for a reason. Go on, baby.” His voice softened, and his scowl faded at my wounded expression. “Don’t look at me like that.” I watched as he pushed to his feet with his crutches, his erection still evident.

“But you’re still excited.”

“You’re not ready to get me off.” He bent and pressed his lips to mine, tugging on my top lip lightly with his teeth. “Making you come was worth it. I’ll see you later?”

Him leaving erased any pleasure in my body. His bulging erection was forgotten. I was suddenly unsafe. My heart sped up and my muscles clenched in anxious anticipation. “Are you sleeping in here?” I looked around at the bedroom, richer than anything I’d ever been in.

“I think I will. It’s better than the couch.”

I tried to breathe evenly when internally I was losing my grip. I knew better than to ask if I could sleep with him. Last night was so hard I’d barely lasted. The way he’d made me orgasm with just his hands and then his dismissal. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and nodded. “Makes sense. I’ll see you later. Have fun with Aubrey.” I peeked up at him to find him frowning. To stop from upsetting him, I rose on my tiptoes and kissed his lips the way he’d kissed Whitney last night, softly, tenderly, like she mattered more than I ever could. “Bye, Dylan.”

I turned for the bathroom. When I set my clothes down on the counter and looked back, I found the room empty. I closed the bathroom door and locked it, finding no peace. The bathroom was almost futuristic, so new and shiny. I spied the long train of mirrors over the double sink and stepped into sight.

Standing there naked, I did so because I’d just done sexy, intoxicating things with a man. My lips quirked. I’d chosen those things. I wanted them, and they made me feel better. Sure, my choices were probably wrong, but that wrongness didn’t know what it felt like to sleep alone in a mansion, waking up every hour because the monster in your brain wouldn’t let you sleep.

My lips were puffy too. My breasts looked less like accessories and more like attributes. Dylan had held them last night in his hands. I squished them together to make more cleavage. Whitney had larger breasts than I did on my best day. She reminded me of Justine. Since when did I want to be someone else? When did I doubt who I was?

Dylan didn’t usually go for girls like me, but he was going for me now. My body wasn’t unattractive. I stepped back, getting a better view of myself. So my breasts weren’t overflowing. They were still beautiful. I guessed. I wasn’t sure there were any identifying factors men looked for. I suspected boobs were boobs to them. My waist was small, but my legs had always been a bit squat, less skinny thanks to my short height. My body was actually kind of sexy, at least the way Dylan treated it. He looked at me like I was beautiful, coveted, something he wanted and took.

I removed my hair from my shoulder and stared at myself closer. I looked different. Or maybe I felt different. Less like a teenager and more like an adult. Within that difference there was a sense of control I hadn’t possessed before I gave a man permission to touch me. I turned to the side, staring at my ass. Dylan loved my ass. My smile was wide and embarrassed. I giggled and turned away before I burst from the memory.

There was a tub in the center of the room. The shower was too large and open, a standing cave with many unsafe corners. After a second, I turned the bath on. As it filled, I hugged myself, watching the clear water fill the basin. There were jets and massage handles. From the assortment of soaps, I settled on one that smelled like lemon, pouring it into the water and allowing the bubbles to decorate the surface before I settled down into the warm calming liquid.

My calm lasted approximately five seconds.

I slipped below the water and opened my eyes, submerging myself. Maybe if my head was clogged it couldn’t think. I stared through the murky water as tendrils of my hair wrapped around me, looking like yellow snakes swimming around me, evil little monsters wanting my insides. I tried to focus on holding my breath, but that only reminded me of how Zane had smothered my mouth with his lips. I bolted upright, gasping. I was clean enough. I wanted out.

I pulled the drain and slipped and slid on the gray tiled floor over to where Dylan’s towel hung on the shower encasing. I dried my hair and body and then donned Harley’s clothes. I wanted to wear my own, but Harley’s mom had promised to have them washed. She was a nice woman, throwing me a party and welcoming me in her home. It made me want my own mother. One day without her hovering had me missing it.

The air was cool when I left the guesthouse. I put my hair up with the clip I found in the sheets and walked through the grass for the main property. Mom would lose her mind if she saw this place. It was so southern. Everything moved slowly. Even the wind blew languidly against me as I walked. I made it to the back door and opened it to find the kitchen empty. After a search, I found a phone by the pantry and took the cordless, dialing Mom’s cell.

“Patty.”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Oh, Hill. I’ve been so damn worried about you. Where are you?”

“I’m at Harley’s house in Houston. They threw me a birthday party and a welcome home party for Dylan last night.”

“Hmm. The Meyer boy?”

Since she knew Bach as a child I could safely assume she knew Dylan as well. Her sharp, suspicious tone, however, hit my alarm bells. “Yes.”

“Why would they throw you both a party at the same time?”

I never tried to get one over on her before, but I was learning fairly quickly that it was impossible even if I wanted. “I don’t know. Harley planned it.”

“We don’t need to be around men right now, Hillary.” Her tone was steel, the way it always was; within her anger was a refusal to be disobeyed. “In fact, that’s the last thing you need. I don’t have to work until tonight. I’m going to come get you. Give me the address.”

I stared at the phone, surprised by the sudden rush of anger I felt. Dylan was the only thing I wanted. “I’m not even around him,” I lied. “He’s here to be with his daughter. Relax.”

“He has a daughter?” The octave of her screech had risen.

I flinched. “Yes. So?”

“Address, Hill. The last thing you need right now is to be around some loser with a kid who he probably doesn’t even take care of.”

I called her to feel loved, not to be berated and hear her judge the only person holding me together. “You don’t have to tell me what I need. I’m well aware of what I need right now.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I cringed. I wasn’t a ten-year-old asking to go to a sleepover. I was almost a nineteen-year-old woman. After that twenty, twenty-one; when would I be allowed to make my own choices?

She snorted, as if my attempt at rebellion was cute and short-lived. “We’re not arguing about this. You have to come home. We need to meet with the DA, and you have to start thinking about school again. It’s almost been a month. If you miss any more school, you’re going to have to drop out. Classes won’t open again until next year …”

As she talked I grew more and more fearful. Veterinarian degree? Zane? People staring at me like I wanted to be damaged? It wasn’t my fault! Classes I didn’t want? Guts and stomachs of animals I disliked? A future she planned to comfort her? DA’s that didn’t want to help me? Because in order to put a monster in jail that monster must destroy you? My breathing was so deep I sank to the floor and dropped the phone, shoving my head between my knees.

“Hillary?”

I looked up to find Whitney standing just inside the kitchen.

“Hillary!” Mom’s voice screeched.

“What’s your name?”
Zane asked.

“Hillary,” I stupidly supplied.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Mom asked when I was a child.
“Probably something safe. I’ve always thought being a veterinarian was special. That would be perfect for you.”

My future was set in stone. College. Degree. Job. And animal dung. No love, no power, and no room to make my own choices—there was nothing I wanted.

“Where’s my dad?” I asked Mom, four years old, watching Piper having a tickling fit at a picnic with hers. I wanted to giggle like that, to smile like that. I wanted that.

“Some dads aren’t worth wasting your breath,” Mom mumbled. “Eat your food. I’m here. That’s all that matters.”

“Hillary?” Whitney touched my hair.

In a way she was right. Mom was there. I was thankful from the bottom of my heart because I knew what it felt like to be without one parent. But in another way, lying to me about being the spawn of a monster, about letting me love a man who destroyed my brother, was worse. What she should have said was this, “People make mistakes. Don’t want your dad. He doesn’t want you.”

“Shh,” Whitney hushed. “Take deep breaths slowly. Pull from the bottom of your lungs.” Her arms were around me. “You have to breathe, sweetheart.”

Instead of breathing I stopped. I covered my ears with my hands and stopped.
“Come out, sweetheart.”
Zane’s demonic voice had weaved its way into my brain.

“She’ll be okay,” a deep, familiar, wonderful, comforting voice—the only voice I wanted—rumbled. “I’ll have her call you back.”

My safe zone was there, my protection, the only man in the entire world who hadn’t hurt or left me. His dark blue eyes were hard and knowing. He’d changed too, getting rid of the mark I left on his shorts. I wanted that mark. That mark meant we’d been together, that I’d been in his arms safe. I bolted to my feet and wrapped my arms around him, inhaling his body. I was finally able to breathe. I heard a crutch hit the floor and then an arm came around me.

“Go,” he ordered.

“You sure?”

“I’ve got her.”

He had me.

“Tell me where you are.”

I held him harder. “With you.”

“That’s right. And when you’re with me nothing can hurt you, can it?”

I shook my head against him.

I felt his lips on the top of my head. “Take a deep breath.” I did as he said, and once I had, he ordered me to take another. “One more. Good girl. Can we sit down?”

The pain in his voice sparked an intense level of guilt. I released him and nodded, wiping my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whispered bending to pick up his crutch. “There were too many thoughts. I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t mean to keep doing this.”

“If you apologize for that one more time I’m going to snap. I thought we were honest with each other? I thought we were sharing this shit together?” His eyes burned.

“We are.” My words were so low I barely heard them.

“Then why aren’t you allowed to lose it? Lose it, baby. I don’t mind. I’ll be here every time.”

“Do you promise?” I hoped my eyes portrayed what I really meant. Not just tomorrow, or next week, but every day after. I had this intense fear that Zane stole something from me, and if that were true, then this wouldn’t go away. Stolen pieces left painful gaps, and the empty spaces wept.

He stared into my eyes intently. “Hill, what am I going to do later on? What am I going to do when you’re ready to leave me? Am I just supposed to be satisfied with losing this?” He motioned between us, indicating something deeper than either of us had acknowledged. “I lost it once. I can’t lose it again. You agreed. That’s what the rules are for.”

“Promise me.” I grabbed hold of his waist, wanting to wrap myself around him once more. “I want it. You said whatever I wanted, I could have.”

“Don’t look at me like that.” His glare was dark, but beneath that I could sense his fear. We were surrounded by that emotion. It was controlling us. The one place I felt an ounce of control was with this man. “Let’s go sit down.”

I held him a moment longer before I conceded. After we were settled at the kitchen table, I pulled my seat as close to his as possible, so that our knees touched. I wanted to touch him. “I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry again. I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, voice breaking. “I want to go home and fade away, but then I have my daughter here, and she’s having the time of her life. And then I have you. It’s like I have one woman who gets it, who has no problem with me falling apart. And then I have my baby who doesn’t understand anything. All she wants is to be happy. I don’t want to leave her. I don’t want to let you go. I can’t look myself in the eye. I can’t—” He broke off, groaning in acute pain. “I need help. There. I said it. I can’t do this on my own.” His dark blue eyes, so cobalt they took my breath away, pleaded with me.

I understood his pain. I felt stuck too. Stuck in my nightmares, in my future—I was stuck in everything I had been through and didn’t want. I didn’t know how to get out of it either. “What if we could help each other?”

“How?”

I shrugged, wanting on his lap. But this wasn’t that kind of moment. I didn’t think an orgasm would make either of us feel better. And truthfully, I wanted something more from him, something that went beyond the desire to forget. “I think you’re the only one who can help me. Do I help you?”

“You’re the only one who does. Look at what I’m doing to you to have it? How can you still want to be around me? You don’t deserve some filthy bastard mauling your ass.”