CAMRYN
29
“ANDREW? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” I look across at him, crossing my arms as the room door clicks closed softly behind me.
I’ve been so worried about him…worried because I was afraid he’d left without saying goodbye, but more worried because of the state of mind he was in when he left. Because his father just died.
I catch my breath quietly and he walks past me towards his bags sitting on the end of the bed.
Why won’t he look at me?
I glance at the bags again and realize instantly what he’s doing. I let my arms fall back to my sides and I walk closer to him.
“Please talk to me,” I say gently. “Andrew, you scared the shit out of me—.” He shoves his toothbrush into his duffle bag, keeping his back to me. “—if you need to go to the funeral, that’s good. I can go back home. Maybe we can talk—”
Andrew whirls around.
“This isn’t about the funeral or my father, Camryn,” he says and his words hurt me without knowing the meaning behind them first.
“Then what is it?”
He turns away from me again, pretending to rummage through one of his bags though I know it’s just a distraction. I see an envelope sticking out of his back pocket. RYN is written across the front; the first half of what I’m guessing is my name is covered by the fabric of his pocket.
I reach out and take it.
Andrew turns around again and his face falls.
“Camryn…,” he breathes a sad breath and looks briefly down at the floor.
“What is this?” I ask looking down at my name.
Already I’m pulling out the top flap from inside the envelope with my finger.
Andrew doesn’t answer; he just stands there waiting for me to read the contents of the note because he knows I’m going to anyway.
He wants me to.
I see the cash and leave it in the envelope without touching it and I set it aside on the foot of the bed. All I care about is the note in my hands that already is crushing my heart and I haven’t even read it yet. I look up at him and down at the note a few times before finally unfolding it.
My hands are shaking.
Why are my hands shaking?
And as I read, a hot lump wedges itself in the center of my throat. My eyes are burning with anger and hurt and tears.
“Babe, you knew this trip had to end sometime.”
“Don’t call me babe,” I snap, gripping the note tightly within my fingertips now down at my side. “If you’re leaving, you no longer have that right.”
“Fair enough.”
I glare back up at him, my face full of pain and questions and confusion. Why am I so mad, so hurt? Andrew is right: it had to end sometime, but why am I letting it affect me like this?
Tears begin to stream from my eyes. I can’t hold them back, but I’ll be damned if I let myself bawl like a baby. I just look at him, my face tight and consumed by pain and ire. My hands are clenched at my sides, the top half of Andrew’s note crushed in my fist.
“If you were leaving like this because of your father, because you needed time alone, and the number on the bottom of this note was yours instead of a ticket confirmation, then I could understand.” I raise the crushed note up in front of me and let it fall back at my side. “But to leave because of me and pretend that nothing between us ever happened…Andrew, that hurts. It f*cking hurts.”
I see his jaw twitch.
“Who the hell said I could ever pretend that it never happened?” he rips the words out, clearly stung by mine. He drops the duffle bag handle and moves away from the bed toward me. “I’ll never be able to forget any of this, Camryn! That’s why I couldn’t face you!” He slashes the air between us with his hands.
I step backward and away from him. I can’t deal with this. My heart hurts too much. And I’m pissed off that I can’t make myself stop crying. I look down at the note in my hand and then back up at him and finally I walk around him to the bed and drop it down beside the envelope and the money.
“Fine. Go ahead and leave. But I’ll pay my own way home.”
I wipe my eyes and walk to the door.
“Still afraid,” he calls out behind me.
I whirl around. “You don’t know shit!” And I push open the door, dropping his extra key on the floor and go back into my room.
I pace. And pace. And pace. I want to hit a wall or tear something up, but I settle with finally bawling like a baby.
Andrew storms inside my room, letting the door smack the wall on his way in. He grabs me by my upper-arms, digging his fingers into my muscles.
“Why are you still afraid?!” Tears lace his eyes: furious, painful tears. He shakes me. “SAY WHAT YOU FEEL!”
His thunderous voice makes my body go rigid for a moment, but I shove his hands off me. I’m so confused. I know what I want to say. I don’t want him to go, but—
“Camryn!” His face is full of wrath and desperation. “Say whatever it is that you feel! I don’t care how dangerous or stupid or hurtful or hilarious—TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL!” His voice sears through me.
He doesn’t stop:
“Be honest with me. Be honest with yourself!” His hands wave outward toward me in gesture. “CAMR—”
“I want you, goddammit!” I scream at him. “The thought of you leaving and never seeing you again tears-me-up-inside!” My throat burns like fire. “I can’t f*cking breathe without you!”
“SAY IT! Son-of-a-bitch,” he says, exasperated, “just say it!”
“I want you to own me!” I can hardly stand on my own anymore. Sobs rock my entire body. My eyes sting and my heart hurts like it never has before.
Andrew grabs me, twisting my wrists together behind my back with one of his hands. He pulls my back harshly into his chest. “Say it again, Camryn,” he demands, the heat of his breath bathing the side of my neck, sending chills throughout my limbs. I feel his teeth graze the flesh just below my ear. “F*cking say it, baby.” His hand tightens painfully around my wrists.
“I belong to you, Andrew Parrish…I want you to own me….”
He coils the fingers from his other hand tightly within my hair, pulling my neck back and exposing my throat to him. He bites my chin and then down along my neck. I feel his cock pressing into me from behind through the barrier of our clothes.
“Please…,” I whisper, “don’t let me go….”
With my back still pressed into his hard body and my wrists in his hand, he slips his fingers behind my shorts and panties and tears them off. He forces me around toward the bed where my knees are pressed against the mattress and he lifts my arms above my head, slipping off my tank-top.
I don’t look behind me when I sense him kicking off his shoes and removing his clothes. I’ll only move when he allows it.
His rock-hard abs press firmly into my back. I feel his warm arms slip around my naked waist; one hand moving up to fully squeeze one breast, the other sliding down in-between my legs. My neck falls back against his chest when he slips a finger between my throbbing lips below and teases me with it. I gasp, tilting my neck back so that I can reach his mouth. His tongue snakes out to touch mine; the fleshy warm wetness of it drives me insane. He crushes his lips against mine and kisses me ravenously, to the point that neither of us can breathe. And then he forces me forward onto the bed. My hands burrow into the sheets, my fingers curling into the fabric until he presses all of his weight on my back and my arms can’t hold my body up anymore. He grabs my wrists again and pulls them around behind me, pressing himself against me.
“Goddammit, please f*ck me, Andrew…please,” I beg, my voice shuddering with my breath. I say what I feel this time without his prompt.
And it feels so right.
Andrew leans fully over me; I feel his hardness forceful and persistent. I want him inside of me so bad, but he’s keeping it from me on purpose, making me feel like any moment he’s going to shove it in me, but he never does.
Shivers attack my body again when I feel the tip of his tongue trace a path along the back of my neck. One side of my face is pressed against the mattress, the hard weight of his body on top of me forbidding me to move. I bite my lip when the sting of his teeth clamps down on my back, enough to cause pain, but not breaking the skin. And after he bites me he kisses and licks each spot to ease the tender pain.
As if my weight is nothing to him, Andrew flips my body over with one hand onto my back and slides me up to the center of the bed. He crawls in-between my legs, bumping them apart with his knees so that I’m completely exposed to him. He presses the palms of his hands on the under-part of my thighs, forcing my legs to stay open.
His green orbs flash on me once and then he looks down at me spread open before him. He probes me teasingly, sliding the length of one finger between my lips and then around the edges of my *. I gasp and shudder, feeling my insides squirm with every touch. He looks up at me again under dangerous hooded eyes and slides his fingers inside so deep. I move my hand down to join his and he lets me touch myself for a moment before refusing me anymore. He fingers me furiously now, touching every possible spot sensitive to touch and I start to writhe gently, my head pressing back into the pillow. And as if he knows I’m going to come soon, he pulls his hand away to keep me from it.
He crawls his way on top of me, kissing and licking and biting my skin from my thighs all the way up to my throat and he holds my arms above my head so that I can’t grasp him. His wolfish eyes study my mouth and then find my eyes and he says, “I’m going to f*ck you so hard…God, you have no f*cking idea.” His words cut a path of pleasure from my ear all the way down into the throbbing wetness between my legs. He bites my tongue and then kisses me violently and we breathe heavily into each other’s mouths, moaning against each other’s lips.
His right hand moves down without breaking the kiss and he takes his cock into his hand and finds me, just barely entering me so that it drives me mad. I thrust my hips toward him, trying to force it deeper, kissing him harder and finally getting one hand around the back of his head. I grip his hair in my hand so hard that I feel like I’m pulling it out. He doesn’t care. Neither do I. He enjoys the pain as much as I do.
And then very slowly, so that I can feel every painfully searing sensation shiver through my body, he slides himself inside of me. My neck arches back on the pillow, my lips part open. I gasp and moan and whimper. My eyes are tingling so much that they’re heavy and I can barely pry my lids apart. His cock feels like it’s swelling inside of me and my thighs are trembling against his body.
He f*cks me slowly at first, forcing my eyes open to see his. He takes my bottom lip between his teeth and pulls back and then traces the full length of it with the tip of his tongue.
I crush my mouth against his, pushing against him with my hips and forcing him deeper.
My legs are shaking now. I can’t control them. He starts to f*ck me harder and I can’t maintain the kiss anymore. My neck arches away from the pillow again, my back starts to lift, pushing my breasts toward him where he licks my nipples hungrily. I wrap my arms and legs around his body, digging my fingernails into his back, feeling his sweat bead underneath them. I break the skin. It just makes him f*ck me harder.
“Come with me,” he whispers hotly into my ear and kisses me again.
Seconds later, I do. My body trembles and quivers as I feel myself constrict around him. “Don’t pull out,” I whisper while we come together. And he doesn’t. A deep, shuddering moan moves through his chest and I feel the warmth of him releasing inside of me. I tighten my legs around his waist until I can’t anymore and slowly let my legs give way. He doesn’t stop pushing himself inside of me until his body begins to relax.
He lies next to me; his face on my heart, my leg draped over his waist. And we lie like this for a while, curled into one another, letting our breathing steady and our bodies calm. But twenty minutes later, we’re at it again. And before the night is over and we’ve fallen fast asleep in each other’s arms, he’s had me in more ways than I’ve ever been had.
The next morning, as the sun beams in through the curtains, he shows me that he’s not always rough and aggressive by waking me up with sweet kisses. He kisses each of my ribs and massages my back and my thighs before making love to me softly.
I could die in this bed with him right now, wrapped in his arms and I would never know that I had died.
~~~
Andrew squeezes me against him within his arms and kisses my jawline.
“You can’t go anywhere now,” I whisper.
“I never wanted to.”
I turn around to lie facing him, tangling my naked legs around his. He touches his forehead to mine.
“But you were going to,” I say softly.
He nods. “Yeah, I was going to because…,” his thoughts trail.
“Why?” I ask. “Because I was too afraid of the obvious?”
I know that must be why. I think. I hope….
Andrew’s gaze strays downward. I lift my hand and brush the length of his eyebrow beneath my fingertip and then the bridge of his nose. I lean forward just a little and kiss his lips softly.
“Andrew? Is that why?”
My heart tells me that it’s not.
His eyes begin to smile and he pulls me closer, wrapping me up tighter in his arms and kissing me hard.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, as though he doesn’t believe I could ever want him in this way, which is utterly absurd to me.
I struggle to find the meaning behind his thought-process, and I come up short.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I say. “Andrew, I meant what I said: I can’t breathe without you. Last night, after you had been gone all day, I sat down on the edge of this bed and was literally breathless. I thought you had already left and I started thinking about how I didn’t even have your phone number and that I would never be able to find you—”
He touches my lips with his finger, calming me. “I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere.”
I smile longingly and lay my head against his chest. His chin rests upon my head. I listen to his heart beating and the sound of his breath as it comes out through his nose in an even, quiet motion above me. We lay like this for hours, hardly saying a word. I realize this is exactly where I’ve wanted to be since I spoke to him on that bus that day.
I’ve broken every rule…Every. Single. One.