She’s my prey, small and scared. And trapped.
But I think she likes it this way. I think I’m her predator of choice.
“You were alone, and you carry so much guilt with you that isn’t fair.”
I wrap my hand around her waist as her legs hit the toilet and her hand brushes against the closed curtain to the tub. My blunt fingernails dig in as I pull her close to me. At first her hands come up, ready to brace her palms against my chest. But she knows better, and she quickly grabs on to the bit of her shirt on her upper thighs.
I let her chest hit me and hold her gaze as she stares into my eyes. “Robin,” I lick my lips and then tell her, “I’ve wanted so much from you for so long.”
I close my eyes as the years pass before me. My concern growing into an obsession. I open them to find her hazel eyes swirled with desire. Her breathing in short pants.
I lower my lips to her neck and whisper, “I don’t want to wait any longer.”
Robin reaches up just as the words slip past my lips. My initial instinct is to grab her, to force her back and pin her down. To protect myself. But her fingers spear through my hair and she crashes her lips against mine before I can admonish her. Her eyes are closed as she kisses me with longing, sweet and slow, but also a desperation that matches my own. I splay my hand along her back and trail my fingers up her thigh and over the dip of her waist. Her lips soften as I move my hand to her neck, my thumb brushing along her jaw.
I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long.
Her breath is hot and mingles with my own as I feel her soft skin, letting my hands roam freely and relaxing my grip on her. Her touch is soft, as I knew it would be. She’s gentle but needy. Greedy, even. I pull back slightly and she lets me, but she’s slow to open her eyes. She doesn’t want it to stop. The thought makes my dick twitch and I grip her hips and move her ass to sit on the counter. Like the good girl she is, she parts her legs for me and I nestle my hips between her thighs.
“I want you, Jay,” she whispers the words like a confession. Her eyes are still closed, and I can see how much it pains her to admit it. It’s because I’m broken. She thinks this is wrong when it’s the only thing that feels right.
I brush the tip of my nose along hers, waiting for her to look at me. She’s out of breath and her eyes are a mix of emotions. She needs me as much as I need her.
I cup her chin in my hand and brush my thumb along her lower lip. “I would give anything to have all of you,” I admit to her with absolute truth.
“Will you let me touch you?” she asks me, and my heart stops.
It’s only my chest where I don’t like being touched. I can still feel my father’s hands slamming against me over and over. Pushing me backward. I don’t fight it. I let him because if I don’t, it’s so much worse.
My blood rushes in my ears as I nod my head once. I should’ve guessed it was coming. I suppose in a lot of ways it was, because I’m ready for it. I want her to do what she wants to me. And I to her.
“I know I need this,” I tell her. I’m so fucking aware of how damaged I am. “I don’t want to be like this,” I whisper and then pull the shirt over my head. The thin cotton slides up my back and over my shoulders until I’m facing her with nothing to hide me. Her eyes focus on my chest and dance along the faint scars.
They aren’t horrible to look at, mostly faded from the two decades of time between now and then.
I can hear her breathe as she moves closer to me. She peeks up at me and I can almost hear my name on her lips. Asking me for permission, but I nod before she can do it. “Go ahead,” I tell her with my shoulders squared. I may be broken, but I want to be fixed. I want her touch in every way.
Her hand shakes just over my chest. So close I can already feel the heat from her. I brace myself for it. For her touch. I want it more than anything. I want to feel her fingertips run along my scars and not cause me pain and shame.
If ever someone could do it, it would be her. I halt my breathing as she rests her middle finger along the dip in my throat and then slowly lowers it, trailing down the faint silver of a small scar. It’s not the worst of them.
I wish I knew what they were from. I wish I still had the memories of what it was that left each of them. But there were so many, and time confuses things. The one on my leg was from the dog. The largest of the three. The one who almost killed me. That’s the only scar I can place in my past. The rest are merely a summary of what my father gave me.
I grip her wrist out of instinct when she moves lower. She stays still, waiting for me. “I think that’s enough for now, little bird,” I say with my eyes closed and then look down at her.
“Jay, I promise I’ll stay.” Her voice is pleading but also sincere. I don’t like her tone though. I gave her what she wanted, so she needs to give me what I want in return. “I promise I’ll stay with you and beside you, and that I want what you want. I promise you,” she pleads with me, and I already know what she’s going to say.
“Just come with me to get help.”
I stare into her hazel eyes as they gloss over with unshed tears.
Help. She is my help. She is the reason I’m like this. My breathing gets heavy as I resist the urge to snap.
Leave? No. We’re only getting started.
She left me once, and she’ll do it again. There’s a sorcery about her, something that distracts me from the reality. Something that makes me feel as though just caring for her will be enough to heal all wounds. I bend down, picking up my shirt and put it on quickly, covering the scars from her view.
“Get a bath,” I tell her and turn my back to her, opening the bathroom door and feeling the gush of cold air flood the room. “Don’t make me regret leaving you alone.”
Chapter 14
Robin
It’s so quiet. Every small movement is accompanied by the sounds of the blanket shifting. There’s not the faintest noise except the ones I create.
A little while ago the air conditioner kicked on, and it was heaven. A bit of white noise to drown out the silence. But the break was short-lived, so instead, I lie here in silence.
I turn over onto my side and pick at the threads on the comforter. They're small and so easily pulled.
I close my eyes and the vision of the basement flashes before my eyes. It was quiet then, too. But at least I had the steady sounds of Jay behind me. My throat feels tight as I swallow and try to calm myself down.
I think of the city noise and focus on it. So many nights it’s kept me from this very nightmare. It’s not so loud that it keeps me up or disturbs my sleep. But it’s loud enough to keep me from going back there in my mind.
I grit my teeth and think of how he could hold me now. If he wanted to, he could be in here. I could sleep again.
The thought of falling into the depths of a dream with him makes my body move on its own. I throw back the heavy comforter and move from the bed with purposeful strides but hesitate at the door, my heart beating harder and my confidence waning by the second.
I swallow thickly, my heart beating slowly as fear creeps up and nearly stops me. But how many nights have I prayed to be close to him? How many nights have I wanted him to hold me? And he’s so close. I only have to ask.