Chapter 37
Malcolm
After we arrived back at Ginger’s house, I held her hand on the short walk to her porch. I wasn’t ready for the night to end, but I knew it had to. My hands rested lightly on her hips. She reached up, putting hers on either side of my face. She then stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss me. It was quick and soft. Too quick for my liking, but she didn’t step away. Instead, she circled her arms around my neck, and let her fingers play with my dreads.
“I had a good time tonight. The comedians were really funny.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Did I earn a second date?”
She smiled up at me. “Yes, I think I’d grant you a second date.”
“It’s my lucky night.”
The simple act of her fingers brushing against the back of my neck was driving me crazy. A small gap was between our bodies, but it could have been the Grand Canyon for all I cared. I wanted to feel her body pressed against mine. I resisted the urge to pull her closer.
I removed her hands from around my neck, kissing her knuckles. “I should go.”
“You don’t want to come in?”
What I needed to do was go home and jerk off, followed by a long ice bath because my hand wouldn’t be enough, but I couldn’t turn down a chance to spend more time with her. Even if it meant dealing with the uncomfortable ache in my pants.
“Sure, why not.”
Her face lit up then she turned to unlock the door. She flipped a switch, flooding the foyer with light. Her house was cold, more like a compound rather than a home. I never could fully relax when I’d visited. Now that I knew what went on within these walls, it made my skin crawl to be here. Before, I couldn’t understand why she’d stay just knowing her history with that man, but now...it truly baffled me how she could continue to stay in a place that held nothing but memories of horrific events.
“Would you like something to drink?” Ginger walked into the kitchen, turning on more lights. She dropped her purse and keys on the counter. “I have soda, tea, apple juice.” She looked over at me and smiled. “But if you want something stronger, you can check the bar.”
I took a seat on her couch. “Soda will be fine.”
She walked over and handed me a can. She placed her own on the coffee table then sat down on the other end of the couch. She unzipped her boots, and I laughed when she pulled them off revealing the bright yellow, smiley face, knee-high socks she wore.
She stuck her bottom lip out in a playful pout. “Hey, don’t laugh at my socks. I think they’re cute, and they make me smile.”
She placed her legs in my lap, crossing them at the ankle. “Well, I’m all for anything that brings a smile to your face. Best socks ever.”
Her smile got bigger. My hand wandered up her calf, giving her a soft massage. I was mindful to not let my hand venture to any of her exposed flesh.
Ginger rested her head on the back of the sofa, eyes closed. She looked content as I massaged her legs. I leaned forward to sit my soda down, so both hands could be free. A soft moan escaped her lips when I started on her feet.
She looked so at peace, like in this moment she didn’t have a care in the world. Beautiful in her quiet strength. My Ginger was a warrior and had the battle scars to prove it.
The rise and fall of her chest became rhythmic. “Baby, I’m gonna head out.”
She sat up to look at me. She removed her legs from my lap only to crawl over and curl up on me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, resting her head on my shoulder.
I laughed. “Is this your way of asking me not to go?”
She nodded, hugging me tighter. I circled my arms around her, with one hand resting on her outer thigh. Her fingers played with my hair while I tried in vain to think of anything other than her ass resting against my crotch.
I pushed the silky fabric of her dress up to allow my fingers to stroke the smooth skin of her leg. Having her like this felt good. Her willingness to show me affection, to want to be affectionate with me on any level made me ecstatic. Ginger wanted me here. She wanted me around. Things were falling into place.
“You always smell so good,” she whispered.
She nestled her head closer to my neck and kissed the side of it.
“Thanks. You don’t smell so bad yourself.”
“You really know how to woo a girl,” she stated, kissing along my jaw.
My fingers gripped her thigh as I forced myself to not allow my hand to wander between her legs. My erection was painful. Ginger either didn’t mind or chose to ignore the fact it was poking her ass. She continued to give me feather-light kisses that drove me crazy. It took all of my self-control to not start dry humping her.
I let out a groan. Unable to take the torture any longer, I picked her up and set her on the couch beside me. “I should go. Now.”
She slid over to the end of the couch. “I thought you would stay.” Her voice sounded almost panicked.
“The night?”
She nodded.
“I don’t...I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Her face fell and the contentment she’d had minutes earlier vanished. Lips down-turned, she looked at me with sad eyes. “Is this because of last time? The night I showed up at your house?”
“Partially, yeah.”
Her shoulders slumped, and she bit down on her lip. She shifted her gaze to her lap. The bouncing of her knee, a clear tell of her nervousness. I barely heard her when she spoke. The talk I’d put off earlier had made its way back around.
“I’m sorry. I...I know that doesn’t change what I did, how I acted, but I am sorry.”
I moved over to be closer and placed my hand on her knee to still it. “Look at me.”
She shook her head.
“Please.”
Tucking her hair behind her ear, Ginger complied with my request.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. Okay?”
“But you didn’t want—and I threw myself at you anyway.”
“Hold up. You think I’m leaving because I’m bothered by the fact you initiated sex?”
She nodded. “I did more than that, Mal. You told me no, and I kept trying. I...I was going to apologize when I called, but I chickened out. You didn’t seem mad or upset, but now you’re leaving me…”
“Because I’m not. Baby, let’s get one thing straight. I have zero problem with being your dick on demand. Believe that.”
Ginger’s eyes got wide before she started laughing. “Oh...oh my god,” she said, fanning her face as she tried to catch her breath. “I love that you can do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make me laugh.” She rested her head on my shoulder.
I reached up to caress her cheek. “I do too.”
We sat quiet for a little while. Ginger intertwined her fingers with mine.
I was the one to break the silence. “You cried. Afterwards. And they weren’t happy tears. That wasn’t exactly the reaction I expected after we were together for the first time, and words can’t describe how much that bothered me. Knowing I played a role in causing you that kind of pain, or distress, whatever. Then the next morning...hearing you had regrets...not exactly something you want to hear coming from the person you love.”
Ginger sat up to look at me before climbing back into my lap. She placed her hands on either side of my face and rested her forehead against mine. “I’m still learning to use my words.” She paused, and gave a small smile. “I’m sorry, Mal, for making you feel like that.” She readjusted herself on my lap.
I let out a long, low groan. “This is why I need to go. I am in physical pain with how much I want you right now. But...the next time we’re together, I want there to be no regrets. And the only tears you should have are because I rocked your world so much you are at a loss for words, so crying is the only option.”
Her head tilted. “Really? It’d be that good, huh?”
I smiled. “Without a doubt.”
She leaned forward, laying her head on my shoulder. I loved the feel of her in my arms, and I had no problem holding her as often as she needed, so I tried to ignore the weight of her glorious ass pressing down on me. I tried to put my thoughts on anything other than my waning self-control.
“You didn’t make me cry, Mal. I mean you did, but...this isn’t coming out right.”
My fingers drew circles on her back. “It’s okay. Take your time.”
“The...the idea of sex was repulsive to me for the obvious reasons, but it was more than that.”
Ginger pulled away. Her sudden action caught me by surprise. She covered her face with her hands. I watched as she shook her head, while mumbling to herself. Taking ahold of her wrists, I gently pulled her hands away from her face. She still wouldn’t look at me, so I dipped my head down to get in her line of sight.
“Whatever it is, Ginger, it’s okay. I promise.”
“Please don’t leave me. I hate being alone at night.”
“I’ll stay.”
She looked up at me and gave a sad smile. “Thank you.”
“Now, will you tell me what has you so upset?”
“I’m afraid.”
“Of me?”
She quickly shook her head. “No. Of me, of what you’ll think of me. That you’ll think less of me.”
I brought her hand to my lips. “There’s not a chance in hell of that happening. I want you to trust me. To feel comfortable talking to me.”
She pulled her hand free and started twisting the ring around her finger. Her eyes fixated on that action while she took slow breaths and nibbled on her lower lip.
“Would it be better if I were naked?”
She frowned at me. “What? Why would that be better?”
“Isn’t that supposed to help people when they are scared to talk in front of crowds or something? Picturing the audience naked?”
She smiled. “The key part of that statement, Malcolm, is picturing them being naked, not them actually being that way.”
“True, but it would be weird to ask strangers to strip. I, on the other hand, am more than willing to make that sacrifice.”
She leaned over to kiss my cheek. “I appreciate your willingness to help.” Her smile faded. “You promise you won’t leave me?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She nodded. The worry and fear of whatever she wanted to say was evident on her face. She reached for my hand, intertwining her fingers with mine, almost as if she was trying to keep me from running away.
“Sex was a requirement.” She paused, briefly looking up at me before focusing her attention on our joined hands.
I already didn’t like the direction of this conversation, and I prayed I’d be able to keep my emotions in check with whatever she was about to say.
“He wasn’t always...I mean, he didn’t always force me, not in that way. He would sometimes be romantic or—either way, I would respond, react.”
She looked up at me as if she hoped I understood her meaning. I did. Thankful she didn’t want to go into too much detail. I could only handle so much when hearing about her sex life with that bastard.
Ginger pulled her hand free of mine and stood up. She headed directly toward the bar. I swallowed my objection as she pulled a bottle of vodka from the cabinet. She didn’t pour a drink. Instead, her hands wrapped around the neck of the bottle, strangling it.
Getting up, I walked over to her and gently pried her fingers from around the bottle. She turned, hugged me, and buried her face in my chest. I held her until she felt ready to talk again.
“Things got more than a little warped in my head because of that. I hated myself, because despite everything, I would still respond to his touch. I...I started to think I was as twisted as he was, at least on some level. How could I enjoy being with a man like him?”
She paused to take a breath. She looked up at me, her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “It’s a strange thing to feel gross in your own skin, but that’s how I’ve felt for a long time. I tried, I tried to tell myself it was just biology, that my body was programmed to react to certain stimuli, but when you’re being told it’s more, that it’s about love and want…” She pulled away, turning her back to me. She again covered her face with her hands. “God, I feel like such an idiot saying these things out loud.”
I placed my hands on her shoulders to make her turn around. She tried to resist, but eventually gave in. I could tell from how she averted her eyes, and the stiffness of her body, that she was embarrassed by what she’d shared.
“You have no reason to feel like an idiot. You can talk to me anytime about anything. Okay?”
She gave me a reluctant nod. “I...I didn’t trust myself. And if I’m really honest, I still don’t a hundred percent. How could I after all of that? How could I know what was real and what was biology? I’m tainted, scarred, and far from desirable. At least that’s how I’ve been perceiving myself until you started making me feel things that I tried to bury deep.” She stopped and smiled. “That was kinda annoying of you.”
I returned her smile. “I do what I can.”
She looked over at the bottle then back at me. “This is all still scary for me. That night, I cried because I could tell the difference. But then the next day, the worry and self-doubt set in. Maybe I’d just imagined it, and I’d only done what I was conditioned to do. On top of that, I felt terrible about throwing myself at you—my self-loathing runs deep, Malcolm. I am my own worst enemy. Every time I think I’ve accepted something, I find a way to pick it apart and put myself back at square one.”
I reached down to stroke her cheek. Ginger closed her eyes as she leaned into my touch.
“You’re not back at square one, Ginger. The fact that you opened up to me about it, even though you were scared to do so, means you’re moving forward.”
She looked at me and smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I know so. And I’ll keep reminding you, should you forget.”
She looked around the room. “Can we go?”
“Um...sure. I’m getting tired anyway.”
“No. Not to bed, but go as in leave.”
“Sure. Where to?”
“Your place.”