By tainting her with my blackness.
The broken sickness I was born with could be contagious, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was pass it to her—contaminate her perfection. If I ever climbed inside her, she’d never be the same. Her light … I’d extinguish it, bringing her into my darkness. That was the last thing I wanted since Nicole’s light had always been a beacon for me, leading me to do the right thing when the right thing was the last thing I wanted to do.
Bad decisions were in my blood—passed down from a father who ruined me—and touching Nicole was the worst decision I’d ever made. The addiction was instant, and I knew one day I’d overdose on her. Just like my father and his heroin except with more pleasure and more pain.
I pulled back, my body and heart feeling her loss the second I pushed her away.
“Fuck!” I cursed, as I gasped and rubbed roughly at my lips, trying to rid myself of her taste.
I’d never be able to walk away with her flavor on my lips. My craving would never let it happen.
She moved toward me, and I held my hand out to keep her away. I was too weak for her. I’d always been too weak for her.
Her big blue eyes stared up at me, full of trust and lust. Her white blond hair spilled from her bun, curtaining her beautiful face and skimming her flawless skin. She was everything, and I was nothing. The two could never mix.
Rage and disgust slammed into me.
How could I touch her?
How could I taint her perfection with my sin?
“That shouldn’t have happened,” I breathed, trying to catch the air she’d stolen away from me.
“Why not?” she asked, her cheeks flushed and her lips reddened from my rough kisses.
I hated myself for marring her delicate flesh with my touch. She was too good, too perfect for anyone, especially me.
“Because I don’t want you that way!” I yelled, not thinking of who else could hear our conversation.
It was the biggest fucking lie I’d ever told, and that included the lie about my father accidentally overdosing.
She stiffened as if I’d smacked her in the face. Her soft blue eyes widened with shock, and I had a front-row seat to the hurt that seeped into her expression when my words struck her conscience.
“But … you want me. I felt it in my hand. I felt it in the way you kissed me.”
I laughed, even though it was the last thing in the world I felt like doing. Truth be told, I wanted to scream in aggravation. Cry in physical pain as my body throbbed for her and repelled her touch at the same time.
“I’m a guy, Nicole. I have a cock,” I said bluntly. “It doesn’t take much to get me hard. That would’ve happened with anyone.”
“Are you trying to say I have no effect on you whatsoever? That you don’t care about me at all?”
She was on the verge of tears and seeing her respond that way felt like a kick in the balls. I never wanted to hurt Nicole. I never wanted to do anything but protect her and admire her from afar. Set her on a pedestal and worship her from beneath.
“Of course, I care about you. I told you, I’d do anything to protect you.”
It was the truth.
I’d do anything for her.
Anything.
“Like a sister, though, right?” Her voice cracked with unshed tears, and I had to force myself to stay put instead of going to her and holding her to me.
I nodded, the lie slipping from my tongue like it was nothing. “Yes. Like a sister.”
Even saying it made me feel dirtier than I already felt. I’d crawled on disgusting floors as a child. I’d eaten the trash of others. Even thinking of Nicole as anything but the woman I craved made me feel filthy, as if I was rotting from the inside out.
What kind of man longed for his sister?
Craved her so harshly that nothing in life felt good anymore.
There was no pleasure.
There was no joy.
There was only the sweet, agonizing ache of wanting something I could never have.
She’d never be like a sister.
Never.
She was so much more than family—than blood—than life.
Finally, a tear escaped and rushed down her flushed cheek. I moved to wipe it away, but for once, she was the one pushing me away, leaving me feeling crushed inside.
“No,” she croaked. “Just stay away from me.”
She moved to her bed and slammed her suitcase closed, trapping the overflowing clothes inside.
“Nicole,” I muttered, somehow knowing I’d lost her for good.
Something had shifted in our unique relationship, and she was going to pull away from me in the way I’d always hoped she would.
I wasn’t good enough.
I’d never be good enough for her.
No one would be.
She didn’t respond.
Instead, she hefted her large suitcase onto the floor and pulled up the handle so she could roll it around.
Her tears had dried, and her broken expression smoothed into one of cool resolve.
“See you at Thanksgiving,” she said as she waltzed by me and out into the hallway.
She left me alone in her room with only the sounds of her suitcase thumping against the stairs as she took them one by one, leaving me behind like the nothing that I was.
It was what I’d always wanted. Over the years, she’d made it damn near impossible to stay away with her sweet smiles and lusty looks. I knew what she wanted. I’d always known. I also knew I wanted the same, but I’d never let that happen. I’d never curse her with all that I was. I was black trash, and she was white, incandescent light. I was hell, and she was heaven, and I’d never drag her down with me.
Never.
Ten minutes later, when I went downstairs, I was met with silence. Nicole and her dad had already left for the airport, but I could hear Mrs. Palmer in the kitchen.
I went into the room and stood in the doorway as she moved around the kitchen, scrubbing the spotless counters like she did when she was upset or nervous about something.
“Well, she’s gone,” she said with a stiff grin. Her graying hair was pinned in its usual bun, but a few stressed strands had escaped down the back of her neck. “My baby’s off to school—off to the big city without me.” Her voice broke, and I could tell she was holding back tears.
She stopped scrubbing the counters to look up at me. Her eyes were an exact match to Nicole’s—beautiful—knowing. She was the perfect definition of the word mother, and I was blessed to have her in my life.
“I couldn’t go with them, Tyson. I couldn’t watch her leave us.” Her eyes watered, and she quickly turned away to scrub the counter behind her.
I nodded, understanding her.
Donald and Connie Palmer were amazing parents. Thanks to them, the Palmers were a close family, one that I’d grown to love over the years. They took me in when I had nowhere else to go. They fed me and clothed me when I had nothing, and they accepted me and my flaws. I’d never forget the peace and happiness the Palmers brought into my life. Because of them, I had Nicole, and because of me, I’d lost her.
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LUST by Melissa Andrea