Stupid Girl

“Maybe.” The night air had the slightest of crisps to it; not chilly by any means, but not as scathing hot as August. Finding my usual spot, I spread the quilt out, dropped to my knees and smoothed the corners. “It usually only takes me one time to learn a hard lesson.” I turned my face toward his. “I got locked out once and was stuck on a rooftop for hours.” I sat back on my heels and inclined toward one side of the quilt. “You can drop those there.”

He did, and I situated them right where I wanted. Then I crawled onto the quilt, flipped over and laid flat on my back. My gaze was straight up, right at Brax’s as his stared over and down at me. Inside, I was jittery; hopefully my exterior proved a little cooler. I patted the space beside me. I drew a slow, inconspicuous breath in. Released it. “Right here, Boston.”

Although a smile pulled at his mouth, his stare remained bottomless as it held mine. He dropped beside me, straightened his long, lean body out and I stuffed one pillow beneath his head; took another for myself. Our heads, bodies were side by side. I looked at him. “Comfy?”

A line bunched between his brows. “No. Come here—” He reached for me, but I pushed him back and giggled. It didn’t stop him. He grabbed me, pulled me half onto his chest, his arms around me. “This is better.”

I scowled at him, although I more than loved lying like this, against him, so intimate. “Brax. Do you want to see Draco or not?” I studied his face, so close to mine now; noticed each sharp edge, planes and angles of his cheekbones and jaw cast in mysterious shadows, and thought I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life. Such a contrast in reaction to the very first time we met. I had to force myself to breathe. “Well?” My voice was quiet, but not as shaky.

Leaning up, he brushed his lips across mine. “I want to see Draco.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Okay then.” He settled me back down beside him, but I leaned my head closer to his shoulder, and he laced his long fingers through mine. The night sky was perfect; moonless, cloudless, each star twinkling, the markers brighter than the rest. Raising my arm straight up, I pointed to the sky. “Okay, what do you see?”

Brax inhaled, exhaled. “I see stars, Sunshine. A lot of them.”

“Is that all?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Some are brighter than others.”

I smiled in the darkness. “That’s right. Can you see a pattern? A distinct shape?”

More silence as he studied the heavens. “Am I supposed to?”

I gave a soft laugh. “Yes.” I lifted our joined hands between us. “Point your index out like mine and follow the ends of our fingers.” He did. “Memorize each spot our fingertips pause at, and then mentally draw a line from each star. Kind of like an Etch-a-Sketch. Ready?”

“Always.”

I snuggled closer. “Okay. Here we go.” I began pointing, our index fingers snugged together. “See that bright star there?”

“Yes.” His lips brushed across my temple, sending tingles over my skin.

I concentrated. Hard. “Okay, that’s our starting point. Now we move down, then over, then back up,” I continued. “We’ve just traced the tip of Draco’s tail. Now keep your eye on our fingertips and move up, up, up.” I could clearly see Draco’s entire body, but I’d been looking at it my whole life. “Can you see it yet?” I moved our hands over the star points until the entire dragon had been traced, then lowered our arms. I turned my head slightly, watching Brax’s features as he searched the sky.

The minute he found it, I knew.

Slowly, he sat up, his face turned heavenward. He didn’t say anything for several moments; but his eyes roved over the night sky. “It’s right there,” he said. With his own arm stretched out, without my help, he dragged his fingertip through the air, marking each of Draco’s stars. “Holy shit, I see the whole dragon, Gracie.”

I sat up beside him. “I knew you would.”

His fascination at seeing the beauty of Draco twinkling in a black October sky sent a thrill of contentment rushing throughout my body. That he thought something I loved so much was so … interesting? It was hard to believe. “Breathtaking, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer at first; his gaze was locked onto the stars of Draco. But then his stare left the heavens and turned to me. In the darkness, those ghostly eyes softened as they searched mine, and the scar on his cheekbone appeared like a jagged smudge of soot in the shadows. “Hell yeah, it is.” His hand cupped my jaw, his thumb brushed over the scar on my lip. “I can’t believe it’s been right here this whole time.”

My breath lodged in my throat, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t look away as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to mine.

19. Redemption

Brax slowly pushed me back, his body hovering over mine, bracing his weight on his elbow as his lips explored further. He kissed my mouth fully, drawing my bottom lip in and sucking, his tongue tangling with mine and causing a surge of excitement blended with fear, desire, and I clutched his forearms. Urgency laced his breath, and a low groan escaped as his free hand found the bare skin of my stomach, his fingers dragging roughly, yet gently, over my ribs. I wanted this. I didn’t want him to stop. But I had to tell him the truth first.

I pushed my hand over his and stopped his movement. When he pulled back and looked at me, his expression was unreadable. Waiting. His unusually beautiful features were etched in stone.

“I have to tell you something, Brax,” I said. My voice was whispery soft, and a little unsteady. “I should’ve told you before now. But I was … scared.” I lifted my hand to his jaw, loved the roughened sand-papery feel of his day-old stubble. “But now it’s necessary.”

In the shadowy light, his eyes flashed question, uncertainty. He didn’t say anything; not a single word, but his hand remained possessively against my bare stomach.

I stared at his Adam’s apple, the strong column of his throat marred with the scar that carried a reminder of his violent past. “The night with Kelsy—our senior class party at the pond.” My gaze moved to the portion of his chest exposed by the opened buttons of his shirt. I swallowed, inhaled, and raised my eyes to meet his. “I’m not a virgin, Brax. This ring,” I moved my hand between us, held up my finger. “It’s a personal choice I made after that night.” A soft laugh escaped my throat as I looked away. “It’s my one and only time and I don’t even remember it. Not a single second of it. I only remember that last drink.” Brax’s silence frightened me, but still I went on. “Then … being somewhere else, away from the others, on the ground, face down in the dirt, the pain in my lip, and … other places.” The recall of humiliation brought fresh tears to my eyes, and I’d leave most of the sordid details out of the story. “Through the darkness I could see my brothers beating Kelsy.” Brax’s hand moved to my hip, and his fingers gripped me there as he listened in silence. “I remember thinking they were going to kill him, and I was so damn scared of that.” I squeezed my eyes shut for a second as the memory crowded me. “Kelsy was crying, begging them to stop and saying how sorry he was. That he’d been drunk—was still drunk and only slipped me one pill in my drink, just to loosen me up. He hadn’t meant to hurt me, he’d said.” I let out a long sigh. “Later I remembered getting my lip sewn up in the emergency room, and then the … female examination, and how painful it was—”

Brax pushed up and sat beside me, knees pulled up, his forearms resting against them. He stared straight ahead, into the darkness. I sat up, too, close to him, but not touching. I kept quiet, staring at the blanket I sat on and inadvertently rolling the deceitful silver band around my ring finger. What did Brax think of me now, I wondered? Revulsion? Anger for keeping it from him? I had no choice now but to continue. “Rumors surfaced about what happened that night, and especially when Kelsy’s father got involved. Kelsy made sure he wasn’t going to look bad, though. I guess when it came down to me or him, he won.” I stared at Brax’s broad shoulders and tapered waist. Still, he looked straight ahead. “I was shunned by people I’d known my whole life. Labeled a slut. And had I not wanted this,” I spread my arms wide, indicating Winston, “so desperately, I may have let them win. But I did want it. I worked hard for this scholarship. So I just …” I pushed out a breath. “Dealt with it.”

Brax rose then, and strode to the chest-high wall at the ledge of the roof. Clasping his hands behind his head, he stared into the night. I stood too, and took a place beside him. I found I was suddenly speechless then, and humiliation flooded me. I didn’t know what to say.

Brax turned then, and leaned back against the wall, spreading his thighs wide and pulling me between them. With strong fingers he gripped my face, tilted my head, sought answers with just his eyes that flashed a palpable fury before speaking. “That prick raped you. That’s what you’re fuckin’ telling me, Gracie?”

The word was an ugly one; I hated it. A part of me still refused to believe that’s really what Kelsy did. “I’m telling you that he didn’t force me. According to the dozens of phone pics that circulated around school? I was more than willing.” I couldn’t meet his gaze now. “I just don’t remember—”

Brax’s hands gripped my shoulders, his fingers digging in. As he towered above me, he stared down, and the ferocity in those wraithlike eyes held more power than I’d imagined. He was so, so mad. “Gracie.” He shook me. “Look at me, dammit.” He drew closer. “Would you have had willing sex without the Ecstasy?”

I looked at him, and didn’t hesitate. “No.”

A cold, icy hardness fell over Brax’s face; it shifted everything into something primal, full of raw rage. “Then that’s rape, Sunshine. And I don’t give a f**k about him or his powerful father.” His fingers dug into the bones of my shoulders. “He’ll pay for it.” Blue eyes hardened to shards of glass, and his raspy voice held no threat, no excitability. Only a savage, raw quiet guarantee. “That’s a fuckin’ promise.”

Raising my hands, I held his face. “I didn’t tell you all this to gain your pity, or for you to jeopardize your scholarship, your future, just for you to seek revenge for my sake.” I fastened my gaze to his, wanting him to see what I tried so hard to explain. He went motionless, eyes searching mine. “I didn’t want anything left unspoken between us. No secrets. You told me your past. This is my mine, Brax. I don’t want it dug back up. I want it to stay buried, back in that old life of mine. I lived it once, and that was more than enough. You see,” I pressed close against him, pulled his face closer to mine. “You saved me. You led me out of a dark enclosure, a place I’d grown pretty comfortable hiding in. A prison, where I’d lost who I was.” I smiled, and it felt good. It felt real. “You set me free, Brax Jenkins.” Pushing to my tiptoes, I brushed my lips over his, but barely. “You stole my fear, then my heart. You made me want to feel again—”

Brax crushed his mouth against mine, and the violent possessiveness in his kiss shocked me, thrilled me at once. His arms completely encircled me as he pressed us together, engulfing my body. With those perfect lips he nudged mine open, traced the sensitive seam, then pulled my bottom one in as he sucked it with a slow, erotic taste that forced a groan from my throat and a fire to smolder in my lower belly. My fingers entwined through the curls that hung soft and messy at his collar, still damp from his shower, and I breathed in his scent; Brax swallowed my exhale, the sensation leaving my insides quivering, wanting more. His big hands slid over my backside, pulled me hard against him, and an ache so violent burned at the feel of his hardened state of arousal. He pulled back, his eyes searching mine, and without words I dragged my fingers down his arm, reveling in the hard muscles and strength beneath my palm, entwining our hands. We moved, both knowing what the other wanted, I think, and Brax bent and swept up the quilt and pillows with one hand. Silently, we left the rooftop, entered the darkened stairwell, made our way to my dorm room. My fingers shook as I pushed the key in the door, and Brax took it from me, lowered his mouth to my ear. His warm breath brushed over the shell, the sensitive skin of my neck, and I shivered.

“Do you want me to stay, Gracie?” His quiet gruff voice washed over me.

I nodded, turned my mouth to his, hovered my lips close, but not quite touching. “More than anything.”

Silently, Brax unlocked and shoved the door wide for us to enter. He closed and locked it behind us. Threw the quilt and pillows on my bed, then waited for nothing else; he took my hand, led me through the hazy dark to my single bed, turned me around. His fingers squeezed mine, strong, protective. While his fingers grasped the hem of my cami, he leaned close, whispered in my ear. “Hold your arms up.” I did, and he lifted my shirt up and over, and dropped it to the floor. His hands moved over my arms, lingering at my shoulders, then traced my collar bone with his thumbs, trailed down my ribs and I felt the roughened calluses of his pitching hand as it skimmed my skin. The yard lamp at the corner of the building shined through my window, and its sallow rosy shaft fell across Brax’s face and I found the stark contrast between his beauty and brutality a drug to which I’d become addicted. I couldn’t tear my gaze away. My fingers found their way to the buttons of his shirt, and as nimbly as I could I loosened each one until the edges hung free. Hesitantly I pushed the shirt over his wide shoulders, pulled each arm out and let the material fall to the floor next to my cami. I had no idea what I was doing; I only knew I wanted to touch him; feel the ridges of muscle beneath my palms, and his mouth on me. He scooped me up in his arms, put a knee into the mattress and lowered us both, and he rolled over me, bracing his weight on his elbow, much like we’d been on the rooftop, but so much more intense. Wraithlike eyes left mine and traveled slowly down my throat, my chest, and stomach, where his hand came to rest. He dragged his fingertips over my navel, across my hipbones, and with expert fingers loosened the five buttons of my jeans. I watched as his head dipped low, his lips pressing against my lower stomach, sending tingles of sensation scattering over my flesh when he licked then sucked the skin there, his tongue swirling over it, making me writhe beneath him. My fingers found their way into his silky dark curls, his taut neck, the corded muscles there. His mouth trailed upward, dragging those perfectly shaped lips and velvety tongue over my skin as his fingers dug into my ribs, and my eyes drifted shut as I twisted my hips, inching closer to him yet not nearly close enough. The anticipation was excruciating and painful and delicious.