We both groan at the sensation and start to move. Together. Tentatively at first, learning each other’s rhythm, tuning our bodies until they become synced in fluid, easy motion. He rocks into me, harder. Harder still, making me lose my mind with his every thrust. I’m losing myself, my brain is fuzzy, my thoughts distant. All I can do is feel. The incredible wave threatens, I know I’m about to go completely under but then he surprises me.
Drew drags me into a sitting position, his back against the bed’s headboard, my legs wound around his waist, much like we sat only moments before, when we were still fully clothed. Only now, we’re na**d, both physically and emotionally, our bodies connected, his flesh buried so deep in mine, I feel as if he’s embedded in me.
“I was losing you.” He knows me so well. “And I didn’t want you to forget who you’re with. Who’s about to make you come.” His voice is deep, so deep, as his cock, and I shudder all around him. Excited by his possessive tone, thrilled by his sweet words.
Drew completely undoes me, with a look, with a word, with a thrust of his body, with a lick of his tongue. Every single thing he does to me devastates. Intoxicates. Renews.
Every single thing inside of me.
“I’ll never forget who I’m with,” I whisper against his lips before I kiss him. His hands are gripping my hips, pulling me down and I work with him, eager for the explosion, yet wanting to draw it out just a little bit longer.
He curves his hand around the back of my head, his fingers knotted in my hair in such a tight grip, it stings. But I relish the pain, how it makes me feel alive. How being in Drew’s arms, having him buried deep inside me makes me feel.
Alive. Cherished. Loved.
He breathes my name against my lips and I know he’s close. So am I. I angle myself just so, rubbing against him, rocking into him and I fall apart with a little cry, my entire body shaking. He tumbles right after me, his body quivering as he groans in exquisite agony, his arm clutching me so tight around my waist, I almost can’t breathe.
We cling to each other for long minutes after, our bodies still shuddering, our breathing slowly evening out. I don’t want to let him go, don’t want to let him out of my body and I know I’m being ridiculous.
But I can’t help myself. Drew Callahan has forever changed me, and the knowledge both invigorates and terrifies me. There is still so much I don’t know.
Still so much I need him to reveal to me. Scary parts of his life I’m frightened to learn. But the truth…don’t they say the truth will set you free?
I want to free Drew from the prison his past has put upon him. And the only way I can do that is if I know what happened.
And tomorrow, I am determined to find out.
I have to.
~* Chapter Twelve *~
Day 7 (Departure), 9:00 a.m.
The course of true love never did run smooth. – William Shakespeare
Drew
We slept in, our na**d bodies entwined, my back to her front and my hands cupping her breasts. With her fragrant hair in my face and her legs tangled with mine, I woke up hard as steel and ready to take her again.
Which I did.
I’ve had sex with Fable four times since last night. Every single time is better than the last and I am so gone over this girl, it’s pathetic. Amazing.
She finally urges me out of bed, telling me we need to get a move on and she’s right. Four-hour drive on a busy travel day, I know it’s probably going to take longer than usual.
Plus, I want to escape so I don’t have to face Adele. Or my father. How awful is that? I love my dad but today…today will be hard for him. And I don’t know if I can deal with it. I actually feel guilty, being so happy on this day—though it’s not the exact day of Vanessa’s death, it’s close enough—yet I want to fight it off.
I’m tired of the guilt and the exhaustion. The worry and the shame. For once in my life, I just had sex with a beautiful woman all night long and I want to revel in it. I want to be with her, touch her, tell her how much she means to me, instead of running away and hiding from it all.
Fable is so f**king good for me, I can’t ever let her go.
We shower together because I’m greedy and so is she. I slip my fingers between her legs and gently bring her to orgasm, my mouth fused with hers the whole time, swallowing her gasps and moans as the warm water beats down on us. And then she drops to her knees and takes me into her mouth, her lips wrapped around the head of my cock, her tongue mapping every bit of me until I come with a shuddering gust of breath.
That in itself was a major turning point. My past experiences have made me hate blowjobs. Only because they filled me with such revulsion when the memories came. The shame, the horror at how easily I gave in to one woman’s insistence that what we were doing wasn’t wrong. That there was nothing to be ashamed of.
She was wrong. I knew what we did wasn’t right, yet I couldn’t control myself, my urges, my responses to her. She knew how to arouse me and I hated that.
I hated what she turned me into. Her sexual toy, a plaything to take out and f**k and jerk off and use until I was spent and sick to my stomach. More than once after she left me, I contemplated suicide. But I couldn’t do it. I was too scared, too afraid what might happen if I lived after all.
So I turned into a shell. A robot going through the motions, living my life, doing what I was supposed to and getting ahead just fine. Keeping everyone at a distance, embracing football and nothing else.
Until this girl came along and intrigued me. Surprised me. Intoxicated me.
Stripped me completely.
“You’re insatiable,” she told me after we toweled each other off.
Her words render me frozen. Adele said much the same thing that night at the country club. Those words had enraged me. Shamed me.
Much as they do now.
The smile falls from Fable’s perfect lips as I stare at her, trying to get my anger under control. I can’t lose it, not like this. Not after spending the most perfect night of my life with her. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
I shake my head and exit the bathroom, heading for my room so I can change. I’m already packed and pretty much ready to go, save for a few things. I need to get out of here, away from this house. Away from this life. It’s not a part of me anymore, and I can feel its thorny tendrils winding around my mind, trying to stick in me and never let me escape.
Minutes later Fable’s in my room, hastily dressed, her jeans still unsnapped, her shirt thrown on haphazardly. She straightens it out around her slim shoulders, offering tantalizing glimpses of her skin and I’m momentarily distracted.
But I realize her probing gaze is locked on me and she’s not going to let me escape. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m just…ready to go.” That’s a good enough answer. It has to be.
“Something happened back there. I want to know what.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, something I haven’t seen her do in days, and I realize it’s a defensive gesture. She’s trying to be tough, showing that she won’t back down.
Well, I’m not backing down either. We can’t have this conversation here. Now. “Let it go, Fable. Seriously.”
“No.” She steps forward and shoves me right in the chest with both hands. “I’m tired of pretending there’s nothing wrong. I’m sick of you blowing up and freaking out and then telling me you’re fine. I know you’re still grieving for your sister. I know you feel guilty over her death, and I get that. But there’s more going on here. Something else happened that you’re not telling me. And I really need you to tell me, Drew.”
I slowly shake my head, the air leaving my lungs all at once. “I—I can’t.”
“You have to.” She reaches out to shove me again and I grab her wrists, stopping her. “I need to know. How else can I help you get past this?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” I let go of her and turn to my bag that’s sitting on the bed but she grabs my arm, jerking me around so I’m facing her once more.
“Don’t shut me out. I’m here for you. After everything we’ve been through, after what we’ve just shared.” She sighs and closes her eyes for the briefest moment, as if she’s completely overcome. “I’ve bared my body and my soul to you, and I have never, ever done that for anyone before. So please, I’m begging you. Tell me what the hell happened!”
I stare at her, desperate to confess. Scared of her reaction. I part my lips, but the words won’t come. It’s like the world is sitting on my chest, crushing my heart and turning it to dust.
“Can I guess?” Her voice is so soft, I lean in to hear her. “I…I have my suspicions. Can I ask you questions and you answer me yes or no?”
What she suggests is the coward’s way out. And considering I’m pretty much a coward at this very moment, it’s the only way out for me.
So I nod.
Breathing deep, she takes a step back, leaning against the dresser behind her. “Whatever happened to you in your past, happened here, didn’t it? Not in the guesthouse but here, at this house. Not at school, not anywhere else, right?”
I swallow hard and nod once.
“Okay.” She presses her lips together, her eyes clouded with what looks like worry. “I think…it has to do with Adele, doesn’t it?”
I’m silent. Paralyzed. I want to say yes. I want to run. She’s so close. So close to figuring it out and then I realize she probably already has figured it out, and I’m so full of shame, I want to throw up.
“Yeah,” I say on a ragged breath, rubbing the back of my hand across my mouth. I swear I’m going to puke.
Fear is in her eyes as she looks at me. Sympathy and worry and tears I don’t want her to shed for me. “She—she molested you, didn’t she?”
I shake my head, shocked at her choice of words. “She didn’t molest me. I knew exactly what I was doing with her.”
Fable’s mouth drops open. “What?”
“We were having an affair. That’s it. No molestation, no her touching me when I was a little kid. She went after me, seduced me, I fell for her, and we had an affair for years.” I spit the last words out, so disgusted with myself I can hardly see straight. “There Fable. There’s your answer. Now that you have it, what do you think? I’m disgusting, right? Sneaking around with my stepmom, having her slip inside my room in the middle of the night. Fucking her furiously again and again. She always knew how to get me hard and I couldn’t stand how easily she had control over me.” I’m shaking, my breath is stuttering in my lungs and my teeth are chattering. I can’t f**king believe I just said all that. I told her everything. Everything.
Fable just stands there gaping at me, her eyes still flooded with tears. “How—how old were you when this first started?”
“Almost fifteen.” Horny as fuck, too. Adele knew it. She was beautiful, mysterious. She flattered me, flirted with me and I responded. She’s only eleven years older than me, she’d tell me we had more in common than she and my dad did, and then the next thing I knew, she was sneaking into my room in the middle of the night, touching me. Going down on me, making me come so hard, I thought I would black out.
I was young, full of hormones and eager to fuck. Constantly. And despite the shame and the hatred I had for myself and for her, I secretly wanted her to get me off. Sought out her attention because for a brief moment, I felt wanted, desired, loved.
And after, when she’d leave me alone in my room, I was ashamed. Disgusted. Full of hate for her and for myself. For my dad, who was completely blind to it all. For my mom, who died when I was young and wasn’t there to protect me.
“You were a child and she took advantage of you, Drew. That’s not an affair between two consenting adults, that’s your stepmom molesting you.” Her voice is shaking, her entire body shakes, much like mine, and then she does the craziest thing.
She runs to me and grabs hold of me so tight, like she’s never going to let me go. She’s crying, sobbing into my shirt and I slowly slip my arms around her and hold her close. I have no tears, there’s no sadness welling up inside me. I’m emotionless. Blank. I think I might be in shock.
I just confessed my darkest, dirtiest secret and Fable didn’t run. She didn’t laugh, she didn’t mock me, she didn’t point any accusatory fingers.
For once in my life, I feel like I’ve finally found someone who understands.
Fable
I knew it. As much as I didn’t want to face it, I knew the problem stemmed from Adele. As the week wore on, more and more clues were revealed, and my suspicions grew.
And now they’ve been confirmed.
Hatred fills me, so overwhelmingly strong I’m dizzy with it. I hate that woman for what she’s done to Drew. How she continues to torture him. She’s disgusting. She’s a f**king child molester who should be in jail, for the love of God, how she took advantage of Drew.
I hate her with everything inside of me.
“We need to go,” I say against his chest, my voice muffled. I pull away so I can look up at him, notice that his face is completely devoid of emotion. He’s in shutdown mode and I can’t chastise him since he’s most likely using it as a coping mechanism.
The minute we get back home, I’m telling him he needs to go to a professional therapist. Get what happened to him out of his mind once and for all. Not that he can ever let his past experiences go for good, but he can at least talk to someone. Seek help so he can better cope with everything.
“Drew.” I shake his arms and his eyes focus on me once more. “We need to leave. Now.”