Abby
Oh my god.
Oh My God.
OH MY GOD!
I’m still hiding behind the shelves where we… oh my god!
I look back at the shelves where it happened to see if I’m making up things. My whole body is throbbing, my body heat is high.
I’m hyperventilating. I’m having a heart attack.
Lifting my hand up I touch my lips, they are swollen and a little bit sore. My body is tingling.
If anyone is going to fuck you into three orgasms it's going to be me. His words replay in my mind and I quickly scan my surroundings as if someone can hear his words running through my mind.
I start pacing. He’s waiting for me and I don’t want to see him. No. I want to see him, but I shouldn’t. How will I look him in the eye now without thinking of how they blazed with raw hunger? How will I talk to him when my moans are still loud enough to embarrass me for a lifetime? How will I listen to his words or look at his lips when I can still taste him on my tongue?
I swallow, my mouth is suddenly dry. This is arousal, but a whole lot more than what I usually feel. This is desperate need. And I want more… more of what happened a few minutes ago and that scares me.
I’m human, too. I’ve always had the same needs as the rest of human population, even though I used to think sex was overrated. Yes, used to. If this desperation, this craving inside me is any indication of what sex is about I don’t think it is overrated any longer. If the way he kissed me is anything close to what sex should feel like, I don’t even know how people spend days without having it. Since the day I lost my virginity, for a little more than a year, I’ve been thinking it was painful instead of pleasurable; but now all my beliefs have been shattered into pieces. I’m still feeling the rough bite from the shelves on my back and clenching my thighs against the pleasure Brant’s kiss gave me.
And he’s still waiting for me, or I hope he is.
Taking a deep breath and gathering some inner courage I walk toward the exit, but as soon as I see him next to his truck my breath hitches in my throat again.
Is it just my imagination or does he look… better? He’s good looking that’s a fact, but right now he just seems even more… what’s the right word? Hot? Hot doesn’t even cover it. He is fire and he’s burning me just by looking at him.
Oh my god, Abby. Stop it! He’s just a guy.
A guy who has just given you a mind blowing kiss.
Closing my eyes I take a deep breath and think of my options. I can try to walk back home, but I don’t think he’ll let me. I can get in the car and try to survive during the awkward drive. Well, I’m not looking forward to this, but it looks like the only choice I really have.
He watches me as I walk toward him. I don’t look at him, but I can feel the weight of his gaze on me. I get in the car and look out of the window as he takes his place behind the steering wheel.
I refuse to look at him. I refuse to talk to him. I just want to melt down and let the truck seat absorb me as its own molecule.
As soon as the truck stops I jump out of it and make my way to the entry of our building. I don’t dare look back to see if he’s coming behind me, I just walk as fast as my feet let me so I can go hide in my room. I don’t even let my mind address the fact that I’ll be staying under the same roof as him.
“I’ll reheat our dinner,” he says behind me. I jump at the sound of his voice, but keep walking toward my room with my eyes focused in front of me.
“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep,” I murmur quickly. I’m not even sure if he could hear me. Changing into my pajamas I get in my bed and close my eyes, forcing the feel of him, the taste of him, and the memories of his touch to leave me.
I’m too wired up. My thoughts are a mess. All I can focus on is him…
Just as I’m trying to put my thoughts in order and try to understand what really happened my door opens. I should tell him to get out of my room, but I don’t dare to do even that, so I just pretend sleeping.
“I’m putting a sandwich on your desk, Abby,” he says. I don’t reply and try to keep my breathing steady, hoping he’ll leave my room. Instead, he stays.
“I know you’re not sleeping. We’re going to talk about what just happened.”
Please, just leave. Just leave, I chant over and over in my mind. He doesn’t open the door. I try to hear what he’s doing but I can’t figure out his actions.
“Stop pretending, Abby.” I feel the bed dip under his weight when he leans over me, into me. “I know you’re thinking about it.” His breath tickles my cheek, his nose tracing a soft trail from my jaw to my ear. “You’re thinking about the kiss.” His hand lifts off the bed to trail his fingertips over my arm, goosebumps erupting in its wake. “I’m thinking about it too.” His breath is so warm on my neck, his lips barely touching the skin there. It’s confusing me, making my brain short circuit. Instead of trying keep my breathing steady, now I’m just trying to breathe. His big body lies down behind me on the bed.
No, I can’t take this.
I jump out of bed with a shriek.
“Get out of my bed. Leave my room,” I yell at him. My heart is like a bird in my ribcage, hurting my chest with its strong and fast beating.
Instead of doing what I tell him to, he makes himself comfortable on my bed. With all the embarrassment I feel I walk toward the door, but it doesn’t open. Anger slowly takes the place of embarrassment as I keep trying to open it.
“I locked the door and I have the key. So, it would be easier if we just talk,” he says from my bed.
“I don’t want to talk. I want to sleep,” I say through my teeth, trying to control my anger.
He suddenly sits up, his eyes are furious just like before he… kissed me. “I’m not letting you avoid me, Abby.”
This is the last straw that snaps my control. “Like you’ve avoided me for two weeks without a reason?!” I yell at him. I’ve really, really yelled and it felt so good.
“Abby, I…”
“Don’t Abby me! I didn’t want to be friends with you. I didn’t want to spend time with you. I didn’t ask you to pay attention to me or make me dinners or lunches. I didn’t even know what Netflix was. I didn’t ask anything from you, but still you did every one of those things. You ruined my schedule, you corrupted my to-do list, you made me spend time with you. YOU did everything,” I yell and lift my hand up when he attempts to talk. I’m not done.
“And then, you just decided you didn’t want to do any of those things anymore? When I actually considered being friends with you and when I start to think of you as a part of my life you just decided to avoid me?”
Taking a short pause to breathe I keep going. Once I started yelling I couldn’t stop. “And I was okay with that. I didn’t have you in my life before. I can do without you again. But then what do you do? You come home, make dinner and act like you weren’t the one playing hide and seek with me? And like that wasn’t enough you just assumed the right to kiss me? You kissed me, Brant!”
I slouch down on the corner of the bed, suddenly feeling tired. Leaning down I rest my arms on my knees. He comes and kneels down in front of me, too close to me but I’m too tired to pull back.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers against my lips. He’s close. He’s so close and I should pull back, but I don’t.
I don’t pull back when he leans into me.
And I don’t pull back when his lips touch mine for the second time tonight.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” His hand softly grabs my cheek, caressing my cheekbone as his lips move on mine gently. He tries to deepen the kiss, sucks on my lower lip, his eyes are closed and it’s different from the previous kiss he gave me but almost makes me even needier for him.
I groan and push him.
The need, embarrassment, anger, and frustration create a big ball of emotion inside me, it’s overwhelming.
“Don’t. Don’t confuse me. Please, just leave,” I say. My voice is almost a sob.
“You confuse me, Abby. You’ve confused me since the first moment I saw you,” he whispers against my lips as if he’s going to kiss me again.
And I’m not sure if I’m afraid he will or afraid he won’t.
“Please, leave. I need to digest all that’s happened and what it means,” I murmur, hating the vulnerability in my voice.
“I can help you understand what it means,” he says in the same tone he used when he said those dirty things to me.
“What will I do with you?” I whisper at him. The words just leave my mouth.
He leans back and stands up, looking at me with a smirk on his face. “I’ll give you a list if it helps,” he says. And with a wink, he is out of my room.
And I, once again, stay frozen, feeling confused by everything he makes me feel.
After a restless night, I get out of bed and head to the bathroom. The moment I swing open my door a paper falls in front of my feet. With a frown, I grab the paper.
What to do with Brant:
1) Have dinner with him. Tonight. At 8 pm.
2) Have all night conversation with him. Tonight. And every night.
3) Go camping with him this weekend… which is tomorrow morning.
4) And after acting like the stupidest jerk in the world for almost two weeks, let him make it up to you.
Yours truly,
Coyer Brant Alexander-Marshall III
I’m giggling.
Darn it.
I look around the house for Brant, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Even though there is a little disappointment in me, I re-read his list and smile as I prepare for school.
Today, focusing on classes will be a challenge, but all day classes at school will surely help me get over the time until the dinner.
Is this a date?
I’m not sure, but there is a part of me hoping that it is.