Chapter 12
Max
When I read the handwritten class canceled sign posted on the door to my calculus II class I jumped in my car and headed straight for Lacey’s apartment. She was addictive and I planned to spend the next several hours getting my fix.
When I wasn’t busy running errands for my dad I was constantly with her. She had begun to consume nearly all my free time and I didn’t mind it one bit.
We were just fucking as Lacey so delicately put it. This wasn’t a relationship and that lack of pressure put my mind at ease.
I show up to her apartment earlier than usual. She doesn’t open the door after I knock several times. I can hear her voice filtering through the door, belting out a song at full volume. I can’t make out which song she’s singing but it makes me grin regardless. I knock again a little louder and when she still doesn’t answer I jiggle the doorknob.
It’s unlocked so I push it open, chuckling to myself at the sight of her shaking her hips and finishing the chorus to Applause by Lady Gaga with her ear-buds in. That explained how she didn’t hear my incessant banging on the door when all the neighbors were probably wishing I would shut up and go home.
I watch her dance around for a moment, amused at her carefree movements. When I step forward to capture her attention she shrieks in surprise. I throw my head back and laugh, pulling the cord on her ear-bud.
“Lock your damn door, would you? Anyone could walk in here.”
She rolls her eyes playfully and wraps her arms around my waist in a tight embrace.
“What are you doing here so early?”
“Class was canceled. I thought I would come early to surprise you.”
“It was definitely a surprise.” She muses, lifting to her tiptoes for a kiss. It heats up almost instantly when our lips touch. Our bodies are well acquainted at this point and I head straight for the sweet spot under her ear. I lave my tongue across her sensitive skin and earn a moan. I work her body up, taking my time trailing my tongue down to her exposed cleavage in that beautifully revealing cotton tank. I pull the material down to reveal the nicest rack I’ve ever seen and continue to work my way down to her pebbled nipples.
Her body never ceases to turn me on no matter how many times I indulge.
She writhes beneath my tongue and clutches my shoulders to hold her wobbly legs upright. In a swift motion I grip her hips, turn her body to face the back of the couch and push her head gently into the cushions to bend her over. I reach for her panties to tug them down her legs when she screams.
“No! Please stop!”
Shit.
I freeze and release her instantly. She spins around to face me with widened eyes full of terror. Cautiously I step back, not wanting to alarm her further. I know exactly what this reaction must mean and I’m filled with burning rage. My stomach turns with sickening regret that I reminded her of such a horrifying experience.
“I’m so sorry.” She reaches for my arm and I let her pull me a step closer.
“Don’t apologize, angel.”
“But Max…”
“It’s ok.”
Tears run down her cheeks as she looks up at me in apology.
Guilt.
Embarrassment.
I don’t like the expression on her face or the emotions it conveys. I carefully wrap her tightly in my arms and stroke her hair gently in comfort. Her shoulders shake and it hits me that she’s sobbing harder, letting the floodgates of pain and fear open up in my arms.
How can I possibly make this right? I feel so helpless.
“Shh. You’re ok, Lace.” I whisper softly against her hair, shifting her in my arms to allow me to sit us both down on the couch. Her face burrows deeper into my chest as I settle into the cushions. My hand never pauses in its feeble efforts to provide her with a semblance of comfort. “You’re safe with me.”
“I know I am.” She chokes out. I don’t like the sound of her so unsure and broken.
David broke her. It brought me a shred of satisfaction to remember what Chris and I did to the fucker, the feel of his nose crunching under my fist, his ribs cracking under my foot.
“He can’t hurt you anymore. You know that right, angel?” I squeezed her closer to me, rubbing her back with my free hand. “I took care of him. He’s not going to hurt you again.”
“I know.”
She hiccups out a final sob and I feel her body begin to relax. In time her breathing slows and her shoulders stop shaking. I keep playing with her soft hair, rubbing up and down her back.
When she calms enough to speak evenly she lifts her head. “I shouldn’t have cried all over you.”
I smile softly down at her and focus on running my fingers through her silky hair. “I don’t mind.”
She snorts. “I’m your fuck buddy. I doubt this is normal.”
I shrug. “What’s normal?”
It’s a rhetorical question and she doesn’t bother coming up with an answer.
“You still want to fuck, fuck buddy?” She asks, running a hand over my lap seductively.
I sit up and reach for the remote, effectively moving her hand away from my hardening dick before she notices her move is working and I’m getting turned back on.
“Nope.”
There was no way we should be having sex right now. Not after that emotional avalanche. She needs a break from anything sex related even if she doesn’t realize it.
“No?” She bites her bottom lip and looks as if the tears are close to flowing again.
“You know what I want?”
“What?” She asks unsure as if she thinks I’m getting ready to tell her I’m leaving.
“The Walking Dead marathon. We haven’t started season seven yet. We’re getting behind.”
She lets out the breath she was holding and gives me a long look to make sure I’m not hiding anything or holding back. Several moments pass and she seems to accept what I say as the truth. She grabs the remote from my hand while I lean back, laughing and trying to hold it out of her reach.
“Not so fast. I didn’t see the last episode from season six. You started it when I was half asleep.”
She flips through the DVR and finds the episode she wants. I watched it alone a few days ago, itching to move forward with the series. I admit I felt guilty watching it without her which is why I didn’t start season seven yet. She presses play on the remote and the opening scene fills the screen. The two of us get sucked into a marathon of The Walking Dead for hours and the thought of sex is completely forgotten.