When I'm Gone
Page 29
When his other hand moved toward me, I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath for fear of passing out. Just as he’d done with the other breast, he gently cupped it, then began paying close attention to the nipple. I suddenly hated the tank top I loved to sleep in. It was in the way. But the idea of Mase taking the tank top off me and actually looking at my bare breasts was as terrifying as it was exciting.
“Is this OK?” he whispered almost reverently.
“Yes,” I replied.
“I want to kiss you again while I touch you,” he said, studying my lips. “Can we lie down on your bed?”
My bed. That was more. A lot more.
But I had Mase in my bed every night. Even if it was just on the phone.
“Yes,” I told him, before I could freak out and change my mind.
His left hand slid down my stomach and hip, and then he took my hand in his. He didn’t say anything else as he led me over to the bedroom door. The lamp beside the bed was the only light in the room.
His hand left mine, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. I watched, fascinated, as he tugged off his boots and placed them on the floor, his gaze never leaving me.
“Come here,” he said, with a crook of his long finger.
At this point, the man could tell me to go jump off a bridge, and I was pretty sure I’d ask him which one.
He took both my hands and pulled me into his lap.
I had to straddle him with my knees on the bed. He tilted his mouth to fit across mine, and then all thought of nerves vanished as he kissed me again. The wonders he could accomplish with the slip of his tongue. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sank into him . . . until the hardness I remembered from my past was pressing against me. Then I froze.
Without warning, the memories came back, taunting me. I shuddered and jumped off him and backed away, afraid that he’d see the horror in my eyes. That he’d know exactly how dirty I was. I didn’t want to make him dirty. What had I been thinking? I couldn’t do this. Mase was so good and nice and kind. He didn’t know me. He thought he did. But he had no idea.
“Come back to me, Reese. Don’t you go there,” he said, his hands taking both of mine and holding me. “Look at me, baby.”
Mase
The broken, terrified expression on her face made me physically ill. I never wanted to be the reason that darkness came over her. “Please, Reese, look at me. In my eyes. Focus on me. Nothing else,” I encouraged her, as I held her hands firmly in mine while letting her maintain some space between us. My initial reaction had been to pull her tightly into my arms and hold her. But those eyes had stopped me.
She blinked her eyes several times, and her gaze cleared up as she did what I asked. She was back with me. The demons tormenting her were once again pushed away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
“No. Never be sorry. Nothing is your fault. With me, you never have to apologize,” I said.
Her shoulders sank in defeat, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. I wasn’t letting her do that. Not now. Not after she’d given me so much, entrusted me with so much.
“Can I just hold you? Nothing more. Just let me hold you.” It was supposed to be a question, but it had turned into pleading.
She nodded and stepped toward me. I gathered her into my arms and wrapped them around her. Slowly, her arms slid around my waist, and she held on to me just as fiercely.
We didn’t speak or move. We just stood there like that, holding each other for several minutes. I reassured myself that she was here and she was going to be OK. I would be there right beside her through all of this. Whatever it was.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then pressed my cheek against the silky locks. The cinnamon sweet cream smell that I loved engulfed me, and I closed my eyes, wishing I could wipe away every bad thing that had happened to her.
“I hate him. I don’t know who he is, but I loathe him with every fiber of my being,” I whispered against her hair.
She tensed in my arms for a moment, and then her body relaxed as her arms tightened around me as if she was seeking safety and comfort from me. I could give her that. Even if she wasn’t ready for me to give her other things, I could give her peace.
“It’s late. You need to go to bed,” I told her, wanting nothing more than to crawl into that bed with her. Even if it was just to sleep.
“Will . . . will you stay here tonight?” she asked against my chest.
“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
She pulled back from me, and I let her go. She walked over to the bed, pulled back the covers, and climbed under them. Then she patted the spot beside her. “Sleep here. Beside me.”
Her wish was my command. I lay down beside her but stayed on top of the covers. I was fully clothed, so I didn’t need covers anyway. Holding out my arm, I looked at her curled up on her side, watching me. “Come here,” I said, and she immediately moved to tuck herself into the crook of my arm and shoulder. I wrapped my arm around her and held her.
Staring at the ceiling, I wondered how I would go back home on Sunday morning. Leaving her wasn’t going to be easy. I didn’t like thinking of her here alone.
The need to protect her had grown into something fierce and possessive inside of me. I thought of her all the time, and all I could think was that I wanted her safe. I wanted her with me. I didn’t want anyone else touching her or comforting her. Just me.
I was supposed to fix her problems. I was the one who should be holding her when she cried. It drove me crazy to think of anyone else doing something for her that I should be doing.
“Is this OK?” he whispered almost reverently.
“Yes,” I replied.
“I want to kiss you again while I touch you,” he said, studying my lips. “Can we lie down on your bed?”
My bed. That was more. A lot more.
But I had Mase in my bed every night. Even if it was just on the phone.
“Yes,” I told him, before I could freak out and change my mind.
His left hand slid down my stomach and hip, and then he took my hand in his. He didn’t say anything else as he led me over to the bedroom door. The lamp beside the bed was the only light in the room.
His hand left mine, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. I watched, fascinated, as he tugged off his boots and placed them on the floor, his gaze never leaving me.
“Come here,” he said, with a crook of his long finger.
At this point, the man could tell me to go jump off a bridge, and I was pretty sure I’d ask him which one.
He took both my hands and pulled me into his lap.
I had to straddle him with my knees on the bed. He tilted his mouth to fit across mine, and then all thought of nerves vanished as he kissed me again. The wonders he could accomplish with the slip of his tongue. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sank into him . . . until the hardness I remembered from my past was pressing against me. Then I froze.
Without warning, the memories came back, taunting me. I shuddered and jumped off him and backed away, afraid that he’d see the horror in my eyes. That he’d know exactly how dirty I was. I didn’t want to make him dirty. What had I been thinking? I couldn’t do this. Mase was so good and nice and kind. He didn’t know me. He thought he did. But he had no idea.
“Come back to me, Reese. Don’t you go there,” he said, his hands taking both of mine and holding me. “Look at me, baby.”
Mase
The broken, terrified expression on her face made me physically ill. I never wanted to be the reason that darkness came over her. “Please, Reese, look at me. In my eyes. Focus on me. Nothing else,” I encouraged her, as I held her hands firmly in mine while letting her maintain some space between us. My initial reaction had been to pull her tightly into my arms and hold her. But those eyes had stopped me.
She blinked her eyes several times, and her gaze cleared up as she did what I asked. She was back with me. The demons tormenting her were once again pushed away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
“No. Never be sorry. Nothing is your fault. With me, you never have to apologize,” I said.
Her shoulders sank in defeat, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. I wasn’t letting her do that. Not now. Not after she’d given me so much, entrusted me with so much.
“Can I just hold you? Nothing more. Just let me hold you.” It was supposed to be a question, but it had turned into pleading.
She nodded and stepped toward me. I gathered her into my arms and wrapped them around her. Slowly, her arms slid around my waist, and she held on to me just as fiercely.
We didn’t speak or move. We just stood there like that, holding each other for several minutes. I reassured myself that she was here and she was going to be OK. I would be there right beside her through all of this. Whatever it was.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then pressed my cheek against the silky locks. The cinnamon sweet cream smell that I loved engulfed me, and I closed my eyes, wishing I could wipe away every bad thing that had happened to her.
“I hate him. I don’t know who he is, but I loathe him with every fiber of my being,” I whispered against her hair.
She tensed in my arms for a moment, and then her body relaxed as her arms tightened around me as if she was seeking safety and comfort from me. I could give her that. Even if she wasn’t ready for me to give her other things, I could give her peace.
“It’s late. You need to go to bed,” I told her, wanting nothing more than to crawl into that bed with her. Even if it was just to sleep.
“Will . . . will you stay here tonight?” she asked against my chest.
“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
She pulled back from me, and I let her go. She walked over to the bed, pulled back the covers, and climbed under them. Then she patted the spot beside her. “Sleep here. Beside me.”
Her wish was my command. I lay down beside her but stayed on top of the covers. I was fully clothed, so I didn’t need covers anyway. Holding out my arm, I looked at her curled up on her side, watching me. “Come here,” I said, and she immediately moved to tuck herself into the crook of my arm and shoulder. I wrapped my arm around her and held her.
Staring at the ceiling, I wondered how I would go back home on Sunday morning. Leaving her wasn’t going to be easy. I didn’t like thinking of her here alone.
The need to protect her had grown into something fierce and possessive inside of me. I thought of her all the time, and all I could think was that I wanted her safe. I wanted her with me. I didn’t want anyone else touching her or comforting her. Just me.
I was supposed to fix her problems. I was the one who should be holding her when she cried. It drove me crazy to think of anyone else doing something for her that I should be doing.
