The Story of Me (Carnage #2)

“You said no touching.”


“Fuck, yeah, I did.” He scratches at his head. “This is what you do to me. I don’t know if I’m on my head or my arse around you.” My belly flips a few times at his words. Good, I’m glad. I want him to feel as messed up by all of this as I am.

I smile and reach out with my little finger towards him. He watches my hand.

“What’re you doing?”

I smile as sweetly as I can at him. “Just our little finger. D’ya think it would be okay if we just touched them together?”

He shakes his head. “Kitten, I’m trying so hard to hang on here. If I touch any part of you, then I’m gonna want to touch all of you. I want you naked, under me and in my bed, your skin stuck to mine. I don’t want room for a single atom between us, but not until we talk and not until you eat. Coz once you’re in this bed, you’re not leaving any time soon.”

A buzzer sounds from beside him and he turns and speaks into the intercom at the side of the bed. A voice notifies him his takeaway has been delivered and he tells Jock to bring it up.

“Let’s go eat,” he says to me.

“You not gonna shower first?” I ask.

He winks at me. “Na, I smell of sex and you. Why would I wanna wash that away?” He walks away as I melt all over his bed.

Our relationship has always been sexual. Sean and I were always good together, compatible; we just knew each other so well, but with Cam, it’s always been different. With Sean, if we were in the same room, we had to touch, hold hands, sit shoulder to shoulder; however, we could work it, we would always be touching. With Cam, it’s always been more sexual. He could never pass me without biting or tweaking my nipple, putting his hand up my skirt or groping my arse, and I sit and wonder, is it just me he’s like that with, or is it like that with every woman who he’s fucking? Is it like that with his pregnant girlfriend too?

I throw myself back on his bed and let my legs dangle over the side. I’ve never felt like this in a relationship before. With Sean I was always confident of his love, even when we got back together and the truth came out about our separation. When he was on the road with the band, wherever he was touring, I always knew he loved me. I always trusted him completely, and when I was with Cam the first time around, I always felt I had the power. Perhaps it was because I’d convinced myself that I didn’t love him and it didn’t matter to me what he felt. Although, I know that if I’d caught him cheating, it would’ve been a massive blow to my self-esteem after what I thought Sean had done. Now though, everything is different. I feel so unsure. I’m overthinking every little comment he makes and I know I must sound like a needy, whiney little bitch, and I hate myself for it. My stomach lets out a loud growl just as Cam calls my name up the stairs. I actually don’t feel like food now. I feel like staying up here and sulking, but I know I need to eat. I get up with a sigh and stomp my way downstairs. Why is it I can find this sulky part of the old me easily enough, but the confident, spitting, snarling, all-guns-blazing part of me refuses to make an appearance?



*



Cam looks up at me from where he’s sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, and as much as I hate it, the sight of him brings a small smile to my lips. We used to sit and eat like this at his old flat above the wine bar. Fuck, I thought my life was complicated then. What the fuck did I know?

I sit cross-legged on the floor opposite him as he pours me a glass of wine.

“Try the wine. It’s from New Zealand.” I smile a little again. We used to do this too. He was always trying out new wines for the restaurant he was about to open. Now look at him, look at us; we’ve both come so far and yet, here we are, full circle, together, sitting on the floor, eating takeaway off the coffee table and trying a new wine. I take a sip.

“Mmm, it’s good. Is it a Sav Blanc?” He raises his eyebrows in surprise and tilts his head slightly,

“Well done, Kitten. It is.” His praise warms my belly.

“Marlborough region?” I ask.

“You looked at the label.” I open my mouth to protest, but stop as my head spins slightly from the alcohol and complete lack of food in my stomach, so I serve myself up Singapore noodles, chicken curry and chips. My plate is piled high and I’m just contemplating whether my eyes are bigger than my belly, when Cam says, “You’ll never eat all that, Kitten.” I raise my eyebrows, deep down from somewhere, G has appeared.

“You wanna bet, Tiger?” He arches one eyebrow at me.

“I’ll bet you anal that you don’t finish that.” I spit a half chewed, chunky Chinese chip back onto my plate, but quickly compose myself,

“You’re on.”