Damian (15 page)

She hit me again, and this time, against my shoulder. “Think again.”

“What?” I looked innocently at her.

She shoot me a knowing look.

“Hey, get your mind out of the gutter!” I gave her a look a disgust. “I meant like finding a movie to watch or something!”

“Uh huh.” She wasn’t buying my innocence act.

I laughed. “Come on, let’s eat.”

“Okay. I’m starving.”

Two hours later, I found myself relaxing on Alexis’s couch with her in my arms as we watched the movie
Julie & Julia
. It was not the type of movie I’d ever thought I’d watch—it was a chick movie—but as we were flipping through the options on her Netflix, and she suggested the movie with hopeful eyes, I heard myself agreeing to watch it. And now, an hour or so into the movie, I was surprisingly enjoying it.

I looked over at Alexis and noticed tears in her eyes. I looked at the TV screen and we were watching Paul, Julia Child’s husband, giving a toast to Julia in front of their friends at a dinner party. “You are the butter to my bread and the breath to my life,” Paul said to Julia. I looked back at Alexis and tears were streaming down her cheeks.

I gently squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did I forget to tell you that I’m allergic to tears,” I joked, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Sorry.” She quickly wiped away her tears and looked up at me with a smile. “It just reminded me of the type of love my parents shared.”

“Oh.” A pang of anguish filled me as I thought about my own parents. “That kind of love is hard to find.”

“Yeah, it is.” Her eyes were filled with sadness and I wished that I could take her pain away.

“You really miss them, huh?”

She nodded solemnly. “That’s why it was so hard to leave Iowa. I had so many memories of them there.”

“Why did you decided to move then?”

“To travel and see the world.”

I studied her and there was something in her expression that made me wonder if there was something more to this story. “But you can travel and see the world and still live in Iowa. What caused you to just pick up and move to a city where you knew no one?”

“I…” her voice trailed off as if she didn’t want to talk about it.

“Hey, sorry. We don’t need to talk about it. I was just curious.” I squeezed her shoulder and pulled her closer toward me.

“No.” She paused and looked up at me. “I want to tell you.”

“Okay.” I felt uneasy that she felt so comfortable with me.

“I decided to move away from Iowa because I realized that nothing was keeping me there. I was in a long-term relationship with someone, and I thought I had stayed for him. But …”

Anger stirred inside me when I heard her mention someone else. “I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend?”

“I don’t,” she said quickly. She looked away from me, and I knew she was hiding something. “We broke up.”

“Oh.” I felt my muscles relax when I heard that.

“Actually …”

“What?”
I knew it! There is something more to this story.

“I broke up with Chris because I caught him cheating on me.”

I felt my fist clench when I saw the pain in her eyes.
What a fucking asshole.
“He sounds like an asshole.”

“I think we both knew deep down that we weren’t right for one another. We were good friends before we started dating, and he was there for me when my parents died. He didn’t want to break up with me because he was scared to hurt me. And I didn’t want to break up with him because a part of me needed a reason to stay in Iowa to feel close to my parents.”

“How long did you guys date?” Somehow the idea of Alexis dating another person made me irrationally livid.

“Four years.”

“I see.”

She observed me and she seemed to sense my unease with this conversation. “Hey, let’s just watch the movie and not talk about something that doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Sure.” I agreed. But for the rest of the movie, I couldn’t shake off the unease I felt.
Why do I care about her being with another guy? There’s no reason I should be angry at or jealous of this Chris guy. So why did I want to bash his head in?

“That was a good movie.” Alexis stifled a yawn as she shifted in my arms when the movie ended.

“Yeah it was.”

As the credits rolled up the screen, a longer-than-normal moment of silence fell between us. I looked over at her and she grinned at me.

“You should make me that beef bourguignon Julie made in the movie sometime,” I joked.

She laughed. “Sure. Maybe after I finish my culinary course at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris like Julia Child did.”

“How about I just buy you her cookbook?” I pulled her closer toward my chest. “Then I can have that beef bourguignon sooner.”

“Nice try, buddy.” She leaned closer into me and I felt her body relax against mine.

Then the silence returned and I watched her hand slowly move down my arm towards my hand. I flinched slightly as her hand intertwined with mine and an internal alarm went off inside me.
This is intimacy. I don’t do this kind of thing.

But just as I was about to pull my hand away, I stopped. There was something about the way her interwoven fingers gently moved along mine that felt amazing. And as if they had a life of their own, my fingers responded to her touch and I watched in surprise as our hands moved together as if they were made for one another.

Her fingers moved up my arm from my hand, following the trail created by the ink lines of the tattoo along my arm. “Your tattoo looks like a complicated maze made out of rose branches. Does it mean anything?”

She looked up at me with wide, curious eyes, and I smiled down at her. “Yeah, it’s my interpretation of the labyrinth of life.”

“Oh. What’s your interpretation of life?”

“It’s long and complicated. Sometimes you’ll get lost, sometimes you’ll hurt yourself on some thorns, and sometimes you’ll reach a dead end. But if you search hard enough, you’ll find the right path and escape whatever troubles you may face.”

“That’s beautiful,” she whispered. Our eyes met and I saw a mixture of sorrow, compassion, and love in her misty eyes. On impulse, I gently kissed her on the lips. “When did you get it?”

“When I was 19.” I didn’t have to think about the answer. The months leading up to the day I got that tattoo were forever scared in my mind, like a nightmare that refused to loosen its hold on you even after you’d awoken.

“It looks amazing.” Her fingers continued trailing the labyrinth. “Was there a reason you got it?”

I thought about my answer before responding. “I was going through a rough time with my parents, and I got it as a constant reminder that when you think you’ve hit a dead end, you can always turn around and find another path.” My body tightened as I tried to push away the painful memories.

“Oh.” I could tell she wanted to ask me something, but she stopped when she noticed my pained face.

She turned toward me, and to my surprise, she straddled me on the couch and faced me. “Thank you for telling me about your tattoo,” she whispered. She leaned down and kissed my lips tenderly. I moved my arms around her and pulled her closer to me. The warmth of her body seemed to shield me from all the unhappy memories from my past. I eagerly kissed her back, wanting to taste all the sweetness her lips had to offer.

As our kiss deepened, my hunger for her grew. My hands moved frantically up her back and grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck. Suddenly, she pulled away, and I thought I had hurt her.

“What’s wrong?” I looked at her, searching her face for any signs that she was in pain.

“Why do you sleep around with so many girls?” I could sense a hint of concern in her voice.

“Because I can.” I had been completely caught off guard by her question and responded without thinking. But as soon as I saw the hurt on her face and felt the stiffening of her body, I knew I had said the wrong thing. “But, with you,” I jumped in immediately, trying to savage things, “with you, it feels different.”

“What do you mean by that?” I could tell she was surprised by what I said, and probably happy that I said it.

“I’m not sure I can explain it,” I admitted. “I’m not sure I know myself. But somehow I think I knew you were someone that I would really like and actually care about from that very first day I saw you on the stairs with that old stain on your shirt.”

There was an amused look on her face “Are you sure you weren’t staring at my breasts?”

I laughed. “Yes, I really wasn’t! Scout’s honor,” I said with my fingers up, giving the Boy Scouts’ sign.

“You weren’t in Boy Scouts, were you?” She gave me a doubtful gaze.

I laughed again. “Okay, fine. You got me, I wasn’t. But, girls seem to love men who used to be Boy Scouts.”

She rolled her eyes and got up from my lap.

“Hey, where are you going? My lap misses you.” I tried to sound like I was just joking, but I wasn’t.

“I’m getting a glass of water.” She looked back at me as she headed toward the kitchen. “But I’m thinking of going to bed.”

I gazed after her, waiting for her to say something else, something that would be remotely close to inviting me to stay the night.

But as she filled her cup with water in silence, my heart sank. She wasn’t going to ask me to stay. I got up and walked toward the door. I knew the gentleman thing to do was to go and hug her goodnight and thank her for a nice night, but I wasn’t sure I could bear the rejection.

“Where are you going?” She took a sip of her water before putting it down on the counter.

“You said you were heading to bed, so I figure that was my cue to leave.” I avoided her gaze, unwilling to let her see how angry I was.

“Oh?” She paused for a few agonizing seconds. “I thought you could stay the night.” I could hear a glee in her voice.

I looked up at her and saw the smirk on her face and knew instantly that she had been playing me this whole thing. She saw the understanding in my eyes and began to giggle. “Why you!” I headed toward her and when she saw me coming, she shrieked and darted for the living room. I chased after her and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her down with me on the bed in the corner of the living room. “You were totally making me think that you wanted me to leave!”

She started laughing uncontrollably as I began to tickle her. “You deserve it,” she screamed between her fits of laughter.

“You’re such a tease!” I finally let go of her and laid next to her on the bed to catch my breath.

“True story,” she agreed breathlessly. “Wow, now I’m really tired.” She looked over at me apologetically. “Sorry about teasing you, but I just couldn’t resist, especially with you.”

I chuckled. “And why do I get special treatment?”             

“Because I like you.” I was taken aback by her unexpected honesty. From the expression on her face, I knew that she, too, was surprised by her own bluntness.

“I’m glad you feel that way.” My voice was soft and low as I looked into her warm hazel eyes.

She inched up toward me and kissed my lips softly. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

I nodded.

A few minutes later, I found myself shirtless again with my briefs on with my arms around her as I spooned her. “You’re so beautiful, Alex,” I murmured into her ear. She stirred gently in my arms.

I reveled in the softness of her skin as I ran my hand along the side of her body. I heard her inhale sharply and felt her quiver as I moved my callused fingers across her stomach, pulling her closer towards me. I felt her back arch slightly against my cock, and I fought back a groan of pleasure as the curve of her ass rubbed against the ever-growing erection in my briefs.

Then, before I registered what was happening, her hand grabbed mine and she guided me up to her breast. I didn’t need any additional encouragement. I eagerly cupped her full breast and drew in a ragged breath as I felt her nipples harden against my palm.

“God, I want to fuck you so bad right now,” I whispered into her ear.

She shook her head gently, but didn’t say a thing. Instead, I could hear her uneven breathing and noticed her closed eyes as she focused on my thumb that was encircling her hard nipple. I knew she was turned on and that made me happy. My hand moved down from her breast and toward the warmth that radiated from between her inner thighs. I wanted to see how wet I had gotten her. As my fingers moved beneath her lace panties, her hand stopped me.

“I’m not sure,” came her raspy voice.

“No, let me do this,” I begged. “Let me make you feel amazing. I don’t want anything else in return.” My voice was raw and hoarse as I tried not to lose control of myself with her. I wanted nothing more than to be deep inside her, but I knew she probably wasn’t going to let me do that tonight. But even if my cock couldn’t be inside her, I wanted—no, I
needed
—to feel her wet, velvety center.

She did not resist when my fingers moved across her over her panties. I could feel her wetness through the thin layer of lace and I felt my hard cock rub against my briefs as my pelvis involuntarily trusted forward against her back. I knew she felt it, and by her moans that were in time with my thrust, I knew she enjoyed it. I moved my fingers underneath her panties again—this time, she didn’t stop me. I let out of primal groan as my fingers entered her warm, velvety center.

She gasped and I felt her clench against my index and middle fingers. “God, you’re so wet,” I groaned. My cock wanted to fuck her hard, but I controlled myself. My focus was on her and her pleasure.

She moaned and whimpered as my fingers moved in and out of her, slowly at first, but faster and deeper with each thrusts. She rocked her ass rhythmically against my now-rock hard cock. “Fuck, you drive me crazy!” I wanted more than anything to replace my fingers with my cock, but I stopped myself and reminded myself that this was all about her.

I turned her around to face me and stood over her so I could use both hands. I saw the undeniable desire swimming in her eyes and heard her pant. I smiled at how much pleasure I was giving her, and how much that made me happy. I drove my fingers inside her again, and without much effort, she gasped as I curled my fingers inside her and found her G-spot. I circled the thumb of my other hand rapidly around her clit and within seconds, she began to spasm and convulse as she reached the brink of ecstasy.