Ally
Is that what he thought, did he really think I saw him as a monster?
Shame washed over me, as I watched the kitchen door swing close. How could I have been so cruel, and twice in one night? The first time, I admit he had caught me completely off guard. I had come home; completely oblivious to the fact that Jason was here too.
My mind had been so preoccupied that I hardly paid attention to the fact that while Jamie was downstairs, the shower was running. It never once dawned on me that it would be him of all people. I certainly never expected him to stalk into the bedroom stark naked. Boy what a sight that had been!
I felt the familiar blush creep up my neck as I recalled the way the water had glistened over his taut, muscular body. He had seemed taller, but he had also packed on quite a bit more muscle. His shoulders were broad, leading down to thick pecs. His waist tapered in, highlighting a much defined six pack, with just a small trail of dark brown hair leading down past the sharp muscular cut at his hips that was probably the sexiest part of the male anatomy.
This wasn’t the body of a teenage boy anymore. This was the body of a man, a man who had lived hard and on the edge, if the scars on his torso were anything to go by. Instead of repulsing me, it had the complete opposite effect. In those few seconds that I was face to face with him, after my initial shock had faded, I had wanted to trace those scars with my fingertips, hell; I wanted to trace them with the tip of my tongue. And then of course, when he dropped the facecloth, I couldn’t help it; my gaze had immediately dropped following the small trail down to thick dark curls that surrounded his cock. By pure speculation and comparison with my attempts at moving on, he was the biggest one of them all. By all, I mean the two men I attempted to date after Jason disappeared out of my life.
Even limp it had been an impressive display of manhood. A thick shaft hung down at least six inches before tapering into a large pink head. My mouth had gone dry, just looking at the thick veins that wrapped around his girth. Shocked at myself and my brazenness, I had quickly looked back up to his face and screamed, more from embarrassment than anything. But he didn’t know that.
Oh God! What if he thought I had screamed because I was scared of him or because of the scar on his face, which made him look ominous?
Truth be told, I hadn’t paid much attention to it. It didn’t detract from his looks. He had always been a handsome. The scar over his eye just gave an edge to his good looks. It made him seem dangerous, but in a very delicious sort of way.
There had to be a way to make this right. I couldn’t go to bed letting him believe that I thought he was a monster. I glanced up at the ceiling; it had barely been five minutes since he stormed upstairs. Surely, he wasn’t going to fall asleep that fast.
Resigned to the fact that I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I apologized, I made my way upstairs. As I reached his room, my nerves kicked in and I felt the knot tightening in my gut. I raised my hand hesitated momentarily, and then knocked gently on his door. The light was off, but I refused to be deterred.
“Jason?” I whispered knocking softly as I leaned with my ear against the door.
I was sure I heard movement inside, the rustle of sheets or something. I waited a minute but there was no answer, and the door didn’t open. A little bit miffed, I knocked on the door again, this time a little louder. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t going to wake Jaime and then whispered, “Jason, I know you are in there, I can hear you moving around.”
I listened intently to determine if he was making any attempt to open the door. I must have looked like a starfish as I had both hands and my ear plastered against the door. Just as I registered movement, the door opened and I fell into his bare, hard chest. He grabbed me roughly by the arms and steadied me against him. Inadvertently, my hands settled on the soft curls on his chest. For a moment, I lost myself in the depth of those deep blue eyes.
His face hardened, and he gently but firmly pushed me away from him and took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. I looked up into his stern face, “Sor-sorry. I didn’t mean to...” I stammered, searching for words.
“Didn’t mean to what?” he interrupted.
I could do nothing but stare at him blankly, mouth slightly parted. Annoyed by my silence, he continued.
“What, cat got your tongue? Face to face with the monster, and now you’ve lost your courage.”
His face was masked with anger, but it was more than that. As I gaped at the angry man in front of me, I could see the underlying hurt in his eyes.
“No!” I finally managed to get out. “That’s not it at all,” I implored.
He turned his head, refusing to look at me. Without thinking, I stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest. “I came up here…” my words caught in my throat as he looked down at the hand on his chest derisively, and then pointedly looked at me again.
“I’m sorry,” I said removing my hand as if I touched a hot plate. I backed up a step to give him some room. “I came up here to apologize. I hadn’t meant to hurt your feelings earlier.” I hesitated looking for the right words to say, “It’s just that seeing you…it caught me off guard.”
I waited expectantly for him to say something. But he just stood there. He looked so indifferent. I didn’t recognize this cold man before me. We used to be able to laugh and joke. We had been close once, or at least I had thought we had been.
The silence stretched awkwardly between us. Finally, he arched an eyebrow and uncrossed his arms, giving a slight nod.
“Fine, are we done here?”
I jerked back as if I was punched in the gut at the sharpness of his words. I felt my fiery temper bubbling up to the surface, throwing my hands up in futility, “Fine, be an ass about it. Screw the apology.” I spun around to storm out of his room, but his fingers curled around my arm and he spun me back around to face him.
His face was mere inches from mine, his eyes cold and hard, and the warmth that used to live in those eyes, evaporated like rain drops on hot concrete. But honestly what did I expect, the same man that left here eight years ago, to just return as if nothing had happened?
“You don’t get to storm off in a huff, just because I don’t fall for your fake-ass apology, half-naked or not!”
He sneered as he looked me up and down in a manner that had the hair on the back of my neck standing up in warning, and in anticipation of what he’d do next. His eyes lingered on the too-short hemline of my sleep shirt that I realized barely covered the tops of my thighs, then traveled up to rest on my breasts. My nipples hardened under his direct gaze, and he smirked. I don’t know what had possessed me to confront him without throwing on my robe first. I felt vulnerable and aroused at the same time. And, I didn’t like it.
Yanking my arm from his grip, I wrapped my arms around myself, trying in vain to cover up. “You are…you are so…vile,” I spit out. “You disgust me.”
“There,” he said stabbing a finger at me. “Now that is something I actually believe,” he said shaking his head, “You stand there on your high horse, judging me for the way I look and where I’ve been, you who have known me better than anyone else other than Jaime. You have a lot of nerve.”
For a moment, I completely forgot the reason for my anger as I stood there, mouth open gaping like a fish. The preposterousness of his words was just so shocking; it left me speechless, but only for a moment.
I thumped my finger right back in his chest, pushing forward, forcing him back with the ferocity of my words, “Well isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black, you hypocritical bastard!”
Now it was his turn to stand there gaping at me. I didn’t think that he had ever seen me get this mad before, but I wasn’t the shy teenager anymore. All the years of bullying and being teased for being fat, I finally learned to love myself and stand up for myself.
Gesturing towards his bare chest and my own state of dress, I scoffed at him, “I seem to recall a similar situation eight years ago.”
He raised his eyebrows but didn’t speak a word.
“Yeah,” I spat glaring, “Or are you pretending to forget that you kissed the fat girl. Well, I’m not the same chubby fan-girl I was back then.” Placing my hands on my hips, I continued to dress him down. “I cared what you thought of me then, but I don’t care what you think of me now. I was too much for you then, and I’d be too much for you now. So go fuck yourself.”
Turning around with a huff, ponytail swinging, I once again turned to leave. I made it to the door and began to pull it open when a strong arm shot out in front of me and closed it.
“Let me out,” I demanded through gritted teeth.
I felt his body press against mine as he placed his other arm on the door, effectively blocking me in. The heat of his chest seeped through the thin cotton of my t-shirt. His hard body pressed against my ass, making me very aware of what he was feeling. I had no choice but to turn around and face him.
“What?” I demanded with far more bravado than I felt. Turning around to face him I ground out, “Let me go!”
“Not until you hear what I have to say,” he said his blue eyes darkened with intensity. “I didn’t leave you alone because of your size; I left you alone because I was a jackass, who lived for the moment, and didn’t believe in strings. And you sweetheart, was the strings-attached-and-all kind of woman.”
“Well you were wrong,” I said flatly, but it wasn’t true. Back then it mattered, I wanted it all, but was willing to settle for less, and even the little I would have accepted was out of my reach.
“Was I? You wanted to be fucked the first time you spied on me, and when we finally did get all hanky-panky you wanted more,” he smirked.
“You flatter yourself, you were just a guy, and it didn’t matter to me as much as you may have thought.”
“Keep telling yourself that, and how about now, are you still the strings-attached type?” he whispered in a husky tone.
Even though my brain told me I shouldn’t want this, my body was already reacting to him. Just like it always had.
“I’m not any type…” I started.
“Everyone is a type, you’re just in denial, and right now your body is responding to my closeness.”
I turned my face away from his and mumbled, “You’re making assumptions.”
“Your body says otherwise,” he grinned as a stroked the side of my cheek with the back of his hand.
Heat flooded me, as my pulse picked up, and my breathing became quick and shallow. This close, face to face, his sex appeal was undeniable. He was looking at me with such possession in his eyes. Even the scar made him hot. My lips parted on their own volition, and he took full advantage. Without giving me a chance, his mouth covered mine aggressively. One hand cupped my chin gently while the other fisted in my hair, firmly locking me in place. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. And right now, I didn’t want to. I matched him stroke for stroke as his mouth plundered mine and his tongue delved into the recesses of my mouth. Our tongues battled for dominance, teeth biting and nipping as our lips kissed and sucked. This wasn’t a kiss, this was war, bloodthirsty, brutal, and oh so arousing. I’d never been kissed like this before, but I had no fear. From somewhere deep down my inner minx reared its head, and I wanted more.
His one hand wandered from my chin to my hip and slid up my shirt to cup the underside of my breasts, and I gasped throwing my head back. Taking advantage of my exposed throat I felt his mouth and tongue on my throat, sucking, licking, tasting as his deft fingers teased and pinched my nipple into a taut hard bud.
He pressed his hips against mine, his erection pressing against the heat between my thighs that was already beginning to pool in my panties. This was getting out of hand and fast, but I didn’t know how to stop it. Strong hands slid to my waist and lifted me off the ground as if I were light as a feather. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his hips as his weight pressed me against the door. The tone in the room escalated to a feverish pitch as mouths, tongues, and hands collided. I gripped his shoulders as I clung to him. He let go with one hand and reached between us, tugging my panties aside, and then I felt the tip of his cock press against my swollen entrance already damp with desire.
“Tell me to stop,” he groaned as he teased me.
“No…” My response was nothing but a murmur.
“Then I’m going to fuck you now baby. Hard.”
But still he waited, almost hesitating; I could feel his engorged fat head pressing against my clit. I whimpered with anticipation as he pushed in a bit further, wedging his thick tip right into the mouth of my entrance.
“Damn, you’re tight as fuck,” he grunted, as he buried his face in the crook of my neck.
I wrapped my arms around his neck as I felt him pushing deep into me with long hard strokes. His sheer size stretching me beyond anything I had experienced before. But instead of pain, I felt immense pleasure as I felt my walls clench his hard shaft.
This wasn’t the lovemaking fantasies I had envisioned as a teenager. This was carnal and savage, almost primal and it didn’t take long for my body to start tingling from the base of my skull down my spine to my toes. Each relentless thrust pushing me closer to the edge, and from the way Jason had dug his fingers into my ass cheeks, he wasn’t far from his release either. Whether it was the long dry spell of having no sex, or the fact that it was Jason, was yet to be determined. All I knew was that I was done for, and so was he. We both clung to each other as shockwaves of pleasure rippled through our bodies, as if our bodies served as conduits. As his breathing slowed and I finally felt my limbs relax, he released my legs slowly, and I slid down the length of him. He didn’t let me go straight away, his hands were resting on my hips and I was leaning with my forehead against his chest, unable to string together coherent thought.
That was until the sound of Jaime’s door broke the silence. Instinctively we both held our breaths, and waited. Jason held up a finger in front of his own mouth and I nodded. The rustling sound of dragging slippers passed Jason’s door, and then we heard the light thudding of footsteps going down the stairs. Only then did we both let out a sigh of relief.
Oddly the heightened sexual tension was replaced by an awkward silence, neither of us daring to say what was really on our minds.
I placed my hands on his chest and pushed gently, “I should go.”
He dropped his hands from where they rested on my waist but didn’t step back. “Ally…” his expression troubled.
I held up one hand and just shook my head, I had to be realistic. He didn’t want strings, and he was practically sex starved. I was just an outlet. Don’t get me wrong, it was probably the best sex I’ve had in years, but it was just sex.
“Jason, I… I’m glad you’re back, but this can’t happen again.”
His face instantly dropped and a curtain of anger masked his earlier expression. He stepped back and deftly gestured towards the door, without any objection. I knew I should have said more, but somehow I didn’t think that anything I said at this point would change the way he felt about me. I tiptoed down the hallway, but when I heard the toilet flush, I knew Jaime had come back upstairs. Hoping the sound of the water flushing masked my steps I ran down the hall as quickly disappeared into my room.
It was only a few seconds, but it felt like hours before I heard the sound of her door click. Climbing into bed, I pressed my fingers to my swollen lips. Running my tongue over my top lip, I could still taste the hint of root beer that had lingered on his tongue. I knew this could never happen again, and that it was the right thing to do. But how could something so wrong, feel so right?