Live Me Page 16

  His eyes glowed with promise. “Oh, I am good. Make no mistake about that. I’ll be the best you’ll ever have. Rock your world and make you beg for more. And that’s a promise.”

  “Stop.” My voice was so small, so meek I could barely hear it in my own ears. If I wanted to be convincing, I was doing a poor job.

  He leaned in again. “Make me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me, Angel. Make me stop.” His lips were so close to mine, a mere hiccup would push them together. The air around us was as thick as a swollen cloud about to combust.

  He was right—everything he said. And as much as I should tell him to go to hell and get as far away from him as I could, I couldn’t bear the thought of not being near him. I liked the way he made me feel. For the first time, I felt alive.

  I had to get out of here or I would do as he asked because, damn it all to hell, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Want to watch a movie?” I suddenly blurted.

  His head tilted to the side and his brow furrowed, the brisk change in topic catching him off guard. “A movie?”

  “Yes, a movie.” I took the brief opportunity to regulate myself.

  He contemplated my request for a quiet moment. “Sure, let’s go.” He grinned. “I told you, I’ll take what I can get.”

  By the time we reached the hallway in my building, all awkwardness was gone and we were laughing and joking.

  “Thanks for the help. If I fail another test, I’m gonna kill myself.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Oh please, you’re such a drama queen.”

  “Am not!” I swatted at him playfully, but he skillfully dodged me.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a ginormous, skeevy monster dash out from under a door. With its beady eyes and giant wings, it was raging at me, fists flying.

  “Ah! Oh my God!” I yelped. Before I could think better of it, I jumped up and wrapped my legs around Blake’s waist, nearly strangling him with my arms. “Kill it, kill it, kill it!”

  He secured me by my waist and spun around. In every attempt to keep my eyes on the ferocious beast, my head flew to the right and left as he swirled and whirled, trying to see past me to the ground.

  “Calm down, it’s only a water bug, sissy girl,” he said through his laughs.

  I didn’t care. “Come on! Get it!” I screamed.

  He twisted, maneuvering me on his hips, stomping his foot, trying to extinguish the hideous demon. I shrieked into his chest. My body was jolted and shaken, flying from side to side as Blake danced a jig, thrashing madly.

  As the pounding died down, awareness prickled up my body. I suddenly realized the severity of what I’d done. My face was buried in the soft hardness of his chest, feeling his heart beat against my cheek with each rise and fall. My nose taking in the scent that was just . . . Blake. My hands were buried in the hair at the back of his head, and my legs securely wrapped around his . . .

  Oh my God!

  I could feel his appreciation of me spearing me in my girl parts. The skirt I’d decided to wear did nothing to create a shield against his prodding tip. It tantalized me, teasing me, begging to be set free and touch me without any barriers. Of its own free will, my body opened up to him, welcoming him. Telling him to come inside and take a seat, stay for a cup of tea. The feeling was so strong, I was nervous I’d leave evidence of my own appreciation on his clothes through my thin undergarments.

  Feeling him nuzzle his nose on the top of my head, all movement ceased, other than his chest still heaving from exertion. At least, I thought it was still exertion.

  My voice was muffled in the peaks of his chest. “Is it dead?”

  “Yes, you’re safe.” He smoothed his hand down the length of my hair, keeping me tightly clasped with the other.

  I lifted my head, then immediately regretted it. Our faces were so close, I could see flecks of white mingled into his blue eyes. They flicked to my lips and he took a deep, long swallow, then his gaze moved back to my eyes, seeking approval. The tension in the air was massive, the pull to each other fierce. It would be so easy to give in to what we both knew we wanted, what we craved. My stubbornness was the only obstacle.

  Abruptly, I wiggled and unhinged my legs, signaling he should set me free, but his grip tightened, preventing me from hopping off. The corner of his mouth raised and he slid me down excruciatingly slow, my body pinned to the front of his, dragging down his length, feeling every—every—bit of his . . . length.

  Fuck.

  As I traveled down, his hands traveled up, feeling each curve of my body, and coming to rest on my shoulders. I swallowed hard and realized my hands were still rooted deep into his hair. That as much as I was trying to tell my body to relinquish him, it was grasping at straws, defying me.

  I uncurled my fingers, one at a time and dropped my hands to my sides, willing him to do the same. Realizing this would not be the time, a look of disappointment came over him. He dropped his arms but didn’t back away.

  “See. Drama queen.” His voice was gentle now.

  I smiled weakly. “Shut up.”

  “Shut me up.” Typically his eyes were wicked when he said things like that, but right now they were devoid of any humor. Longing and desire replaced his usual snarky confidence.

  Seeing another notch in my already strained resolve break away, he moved closer, closing the small gap that remained between us. “Shut me up, Angel.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. “I dare you.”

  My body was in flames. It took everything I had not to jump back into his arms and burrow into his pores. But I couldn’t do that to him; he was too important. I looked at him, trying to think of a witty response, but came up empty.

  In truth, that was all I really wanted to do anyway. Catch his bottom lip between my teeth and slide my tongue over his. Learn the curves of his mouth from the inside out.

  “It’s impossible to shut you up. I learned that already.” It was a struggle to get the words out when I could smell the mint on his breath. His proximity made the hairs on my entire body stand at attention, and they all seemed to be bending toward his electric current.

  “Try me.” He hooked his hands underneath my arms and slowly lifted me back up effortlessly so we were eye level again. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  I did as he said.

  My body was aching to please him. To feel him. To surround him and be consumed by him.

  He kept one arm securely fastened around my waist and buried the other in my hair before bringing his nose to the sensitive flesh beneath my ear. “God, you feel so good wrapped around me. You were meant to be where you are right now. Do you feel that?” He pressed his chest tightly against mine, and our hearts beat against each others in rhythmic thumps. Aching to get to one another and finally mesh into their other half.

  I licked my lips and nodded. I couldn’t deny it.

  His gorgeous blues followed the trail of my tongue. “You kill me when you do that.” He brought the pad of his thumb to the glistening trail, yearning in his eyes.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t ever be sorry to me. You have nothing to be sorry for. But I do suggest you refrain from any gestures involving this mouth.” He tugged at my bottom lip while staring at me with a fierce, carnal longing to claim me once and for all.

  He saw the desperate look in my eyes, the shattering of my resolve. The aching desire and need coiling and twisting like a wicked little tornado. “Tell me it’s okay, Angel. Tell me what you want me to do. That you want this as badly as I do.”

  “I can’t,” I panted out my words in forced gasps, my eyes watering under the pressure of trying to keep it contained.

  “Why not? Tell me why not. What’re you doing to us?”

  I cupped the side of his face. “You’re a beautiful soul, Blake. I don’t want to ruin that. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. You’re too good for me. I don’t want you to feel the anguish I go through every day. It isn’t right
to drag you into that.” I blinked as the tears swelled over my bottom lids and trailed down my cheeks.

  “It’s too late. I’m already there, baby. Can’t you see that? I’m not scared, and I’m not running. I’m right there along with you, whether you want me to be or not. When you hurt, I hurt. You reside right here.” He took the hand still blanketing his cheek and placed it to the center of his chest, each pulse reaching out to touch me.

  “You’ve taken up permanent residency. Give it to me. Let me take it away from you. Protect you. Be with me and I swear, you won’t hurt anymore.”

  His words wrapped around my heart and clenched. Helping it beat in its weakened state. I wanted so badly to believe I could do this. To believe it would be okay. That I wouldn’t destroy him.

  “Just be sure when this happens, you’re ready because you’ll be mine from that moment forward. I don’t intend on letting you go—ever.” He slid one finger under my chin and lifted my tear-stained gaze to his. “Be with me, Angel. Be mine. Be my forever.”

  My insides shook violently. My whole body went numb, both unfeeling and feeling everything at the same time. All I had to do was say yes.

  Three little letters.

  One word.

  Yes.

  I felt weak, my head all fuzzy and uncertain. “I can’t be what you want.”

  “Wrong. You’re already all I could ever want. There is nothing else for you to be. You just . . . are.”

  His admission left me speechless. This man was bearing his soul. Leaving it all out there for me to either take hold of or crush in my grasp. “It isn’t right. You deserve so much more. You’re perfect. You’re everything. You deserve someone just as perfect.”

  “That’s you, you silly girl.” He smudged away the tears now pouring from my eyes. “You can’t see it yet, but let me show you. Please just let me in. Don’t push me away. I can’t handle it.”

  My bottom lip trembled as my body wracked with uncontrollable sobs. Still snaked around his body, I buried my head in the crook of his neck and wept.

  “Shh. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be all right. I promise.” He comforted me, petting my hair. “Where are your keys?”

  Without moving my head, I pointed toward my bag that I’d tossed on the floor in my haste earlier. Buried in the soft contours of his neck, his smell enticed my senses. My body clinging to him for support, he lowered himself and fished my keys from my bag before collecting it from the floor and making his way to my apartment at the end of the hall.

  He shifted me on his hip, but still kept a secure hold while he unlocked my door. Setting my bag down on the coffee table, he walked around it and sat down on my couch.

  My face still buried, body still encircling his in a cocoon, he ran soothing circles over my back. “Look at me.”

  Dread loomed over me at the thought that I was letting him see me like this. So vulnerable. So insecure. A broken mess.

  “Look at me, Angel.” He tilted my head back. “I don’t want you to ever cry because of me. I’ll never hurt you. I want to make you feel good things. Cry happy tears. And you will. When you’re ready. Do you understand?”

  I nodded my head.

  “I won’t pressure you. When you’re ready, I’ll be here waiting. It might be the death of me, but I’ll be here waiting. Got me?” He smoothed his thumbs over my cheeks.

  I nodded my head once again, feeling like even more of a burden to him. “Blake, I’m so sorry I can’t give you what you need. I want to. Really, I do.”

  “Shh. You will, baby. I know you will. It’ll be okay.” He kissed the tip of my nose, and I leaned in to hug him, content to stay like that forever. His hand smoothed the length of my hair as he buried his nose, collecting my scent. “Your shampoo drives me wild. Peach. I bet you taste like a peach. My little peach.” He curled the long strands of my hair around his finger.

  And here, right here, in the midst of everything, I let it happen. I don’t know how I let it happen, but I did. With him petting my hair and rubbing my back, with the enormity of both our admissions, with the low, soft beating of his heart in my ear, his steady slow breathing . . .

  Right here, in his arms, I was lulled to sleep.

  I’m walking into walls, spitting back my reflection at every turn. I need to find a way out of this maze. Wiping away the sweat on my brow, I watch as one hundred different arms repeat the same motion. Every corridor looks the same. There are no deciphering marks to help me find my way to freedom. All I see are a million visions of myself.

  My. Pathetic. Self.

  I run and run, needing to get away from them, but they’re always there, staring back at me. A fleeting glimpse of a male figure pierces my periphery. More sweat beads as horror invades my senses. I’ll be trapped in this never-ending dungeon with him, unable to escape.

  Run!

  It can’t be. I try to convince myself it was all my imagination. I’m seeing things.

  Run! Run!

  There he is again. I scamper around a corner, clutching the mirror lining the wall for support when he slams into my chest.

  No!

  This can’t be happening. I try to free myself but his hold, it’s too tight. Unbudging. Frightened and shaking, I look up into the eyes of my captor. But instead of the sickening brown eyes I always see, I’m met with angelic blues, and a warm rush washes over my sweat-soaked body.

  Blake.

  The glistening sheen coating his skin tells me he’s been running just as desperately as I have. Trying to find me, no doubt, as changing imposters flitted past him. Pinning me, he holds on tight. To me. The real, flesh-and-blood me. Not a reflection.

  Me.

  His eyes, wrought with awareness and purpose, see me. Inside my mirage, my walls, my fortress—me.

  How did he get in here?

  He holds on and won’t let go and I’m trapped. Trapped, and I’ve never wanted anything so badly. Even so, instinct tells me to push away. To continue my flight. To run.

  Desperation in his eyes, he holds on for dear life, knowing if he releases me, he may never get a hold again. His fingers bite into my upper arms.

  I make an attempt to escape, but he pins me into a corner with my hands clasped above my head, sending hundreds of dancing images of us slamming into their surrounding walls. He holds me steady with his hips as moisture seeps from my eyes, the raw passion he exudes rolling off him in waves.

  He releases my arms and cradles my face. No longer able to handle the pressure, my body collapses forward, and he dips and picks me up effortlessly. Cradling my limp body to his chest like a child, he walks the easiest route out of the maze. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. It’s such a clear path.

  My maze. My façade. My fortress.

  Light hits us as a loud, continuous beeping blasts, and I hear what sounds like a building cracking at the seams. Peeking out from his shoulder, I watch the walls crumble and dissolve. They ripple to the ground in a cloud of dust as if they never existed. Blake walks forward, determined, staring straight ahead, undeterred, and I feel a sense of release. Nothing remains behind me but the beeping.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  The alarm blared.

  My arm snaked out from the covers, slamming down on the pesky device. With a groan, I rolled onto my back and draped my arm over my eyes, visions of my dream floating through my head. I wondered how much of that dream was reality. How much of me Blake could actually see.

  Blake . . .

  I rubbed my eyes and threw back the covers to find myself in only a T-shirt and underwear. I sat up, dangling my legs from the bed and noticed the skirt and shirt I’d worn yesterday neatly folded on my nightstand. Recounting the previous night, my last memory was coming into my apartment with Blake and being cradled in his lap. Him trying to soothe me . . .

  Reaching for the clothes, a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. I scrambled off the bed to retrieve it.

  You fell asleep. You looked s
o peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you. Sweet dreams, my angel. Talk to you tomorrow.—B

  Blake put me to bed? And undressed me? And tucked me in? Then I realized how nicely I’d slept and the enormity of the dream I’d had. Though it felt nightmarish at first, I couldn’t get the visions of him cradling me and freeing me from my tortured dungeon, out of my head—the walls cascading to their ashy deaths behind me.

  Oh my God, did he see me naked? I yanked the collar of my shirt and peered inside to make sure I was still wearing a bra. Phew. My shoulders relaxed forward. Worst case scenario, he saw a little of Victoria’s Secret.

  I padded my bare feet to the kitchen and guzzled down some orange juice. Leaning against the refrigerator door, I tipped my head back. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so refreshed. I might just have Blake sleep over every night.

  I punched the security code into my cell phone, and sent Blake a quick text.

  Me: Did you enjoy your free feel?

  I filled a cup of water and went out to the terrace to water Blake’s flowers when my phone pinged right back. I rushed back to the kitchen, eager to see his response.

  B: Every handful. Pink lace is so your color. ;)

  My face turned every shade of crimson.

  Me: You pervert!

  B: Relax, LOL. I only saw the back. But I had visions of the front all night long. ;) ;)

  Ugh, this boy.

  Me: You better not be lying!

  B: I told you, I never lie, sweets.

  Me: Well, thank you. I don’t remember the last time I was tucked in and wrapped all snuggly in a blanket. I slept nice.

  B: You’re welcome. I only wish I could’ve stayed to unwrap you from said blanket.

  Me: Maybe one day you will.

  My thumb hovered over the send button while I chewed my lip, debating whether or not to go through with it. Eh, fuck it.

  Send.

  I closed my eyes and waited, my lungs devoid of air, to hear the next ping.

  Ping.

  Expelling the air, I looked down through one winking eye.