Unveiling Chaos Page 12

  “Well lucky for me, Derek isn’t the controlling asshole you are. He’s just an asshole.”

  I smiled, I didn’t know how, but that statement somehow conveyed the world of love Naomi had for her brother. “C’mon, you need some sleep.” I held out my hand, which she immediately took before letting me lead her back to bed.

  As soon as her head hit the pillow, her eyes shut and her breaths became shallow. She shivered, so I swung my legs over the side of the bed and went looking for an additional blanket in her closet. I opened the door, immediately seeing a baby-blue knitted quilt on the top shelf. After grabbing it, I turned back around and stopped at the sight in front of me. She was lying on her side, with her hands tucked together under her cheek. Her eyes were closed but she was smiling.

  Suddenly, I was blindsided by how hard I was falling for this girl. This was just the beginning and yet it felt like we were somewhere in the middle, too. I was feeling things too soon and wanting things too fast. And part of me thought I should’ve been freaked out and running for the door, but I wasn’t. I wanted this, wanted her, so much that even a scary-fast commitment wouldn’t scare me. And she thought we were just sleeping together…

  Shaking my head, I closed the closet door and returned to her side. Her eyes opened as I gently laid the blanket down and tucked it in around her body.

  “I feel like a child.” My position mirrored hers as I lay on my side facing her. I let my hand trail down the side of her clammy face, rubbing my thumb across her cheekbone. I glanced down and watched her throat bob with a nervous swallow.

  “Go to sleep,” I whispered. She didn’t hesitate to close her eyes and her breathing evened out, but just when I thought she’d fallen asleep, she spoke.

  “Why are you here?” I almost did a double take to make sure it was still Naomi in bed with me. Her voice was never that soft or unsure. I thought about it for a minute, because there were so many reasons.

  Alara asked me to.

  You’re sick.

  You need me.

  She fell asleep before I could answer, but my thoughts kept running. None of those reasons were the truth, because there wasn’t really a reason I was there. I just was. I was there because it was where I was supposed to be, for no other reason than I belonged with Naomi. Whether was she sick or not.

  As I watched her sleep, that answer rang truest…

  Because being with you is simply where I’m meant to be.

  Truth time. I started freaking out a little, making it harder to ignore those pesky little feelings I’d been avoiding. Alara had been right. Damien was starting to feel like my boyfriend. First, there was the impromptu slumber party and family-style breakfast from two weeks ago. I tried to brush it off and not be bothered by it, because it wasn’t awkward or weird, actually it was quite the opposite. It felt too normal and nice, and like something I could get used to. But it had been a one-time deal and I couldn’t exactly kick him out, so whatever. Like I said, it was one time, so I figured no harm, no foul.

  Then he came over and took care of me when I was sick last week. Caleb never did that. Not because he hadn’t cared, but just because he was a major germaphobe and never wanted to risk catching anything himself. Was it selfish? Maybe. Had I cared? Not really, because I’d never really felt any better the few times he had been there.

  But Damien was different. Damien hadn’t worried whether or not he’d get sick. He even kissed me when he left for work the next morning. He’d tried to take the day off, but I practically shoved him out the door, reminding him he had a younger sister who was pregnant and jobless to take care of. I didn’t know if I was crossing a line, but he seemed to appreciate that I didn’t hold back, even as he faltered on what to do. We ended up compromising. I let him set me up in bed with everything I could possibly need—which to him meant five bottles of Gatorade, four bottles of water, cough drops, pain relievers, a heating pad, tissues, extra blankets, the television remote, some slices of toast, and a bowl of soup. When I had asked him what I would do if the soup got cold, he seriously considered moving the microwave onto my nightstand. It was quite possibly one of the craziest and dumbest things I’d ever heard, which also meant it was one of the sweetest.

  So, yeah, I had freaked and that resulted in us cooling it for a few days. Or I guess I cooled it for a few days. He had tried to come back over that night, but I’d lied and said I was staying with Derek for a few days and that I might not have time to “hang out”… I actually fucking said that.

  Damien had continued to reach out. He’d texted a couple of times and, surprisingly, I hadn’t gotten the impression he was angry or confused. Maybe he had been just as freaked out as I was.

  When a few days turned into a week, I received a text. I was just getting out of class, and it’d been particularly brutal going to class this week after having a week off (even if I was sick for most of it), so I was relieved when his message popped up. But I also knew the relief stemmed from the fact that I’d missed him.

  Damien: Can I stop by?

  Me: Sure. I’ll be home in an hour.

  Nervous flutters made their way through me. I didn’t know what to expect or what he was thinking, but over the week I came to realize we hadn’t just been having sex. Even though it had only been about two months since we met, we had spent nearly every night together for a month straight, and when we weren’t screwing like rabbits, we were talking or laughing or just slowly, mindlessly kissing. It would be stupid of me to think all of that meant anything else. I just had to tell him how I was feeling and then figure out where Damien stood.

  I wasn’t all that nervous. Because when I really thought about the looks he’d given me, and not just the ones when he was buried deep inside of me, but the ones when I’d said something snarky or been glaring at him, I realized I was almost positive he was feeling the exact same thing.

  …

  My hungry gaze took him in. Even though it hadn’t been that long since I’d seen him, Damien’s beard looked a little scruffier than usual and his hair was down for a change, just skimming his shoulders. His long, impressive legs were encased in dark wash jeans and I could only imagine how his black T-shirt clung to his abs. If I could just get rid of that pesky jacket…

  I was still undressing him in my head, when all of a sudden he took my mouth in a hard, angry kiss that had me mentally cataloguing if this weeklong cooling off period could warrant this reaction. I came up negative.

  I shoved him back and let my eyes wander over his face. “What’s wrong?”

  Stepping back, he blew out an aggravated breath. I’d never seen him so upset before. “Nothing.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Bullshit. Tell me.”

  That caused his eyes to narrow. “You’re right, something is wrong. But it’s none of your business.”

  “None of my business?”

  “Yeah. The cold shoulder you’ve been giving me this week made that perfectly clear. You’re not my girlfriend, you’re barely my friend. You’re my fuck buddy, right? One step above a paid-for whore, that’s how you put it, yes?”

  Ouch. That stung. It was one thing when I said it as a joke, it was another when he said it with malice. I thought that had been the worst of it until he finished with, “And if you can’t be that right now, just let me know and I’ll leave.” Because for some reason my brain decided to add, and find someone who can.

  It hurt to think of him with someone else, it hurt to imagine I was so easily replaceable. I didn’t want to think, but how do you not when you’ve been cheated on?

  Damien could be rude, I discovered that the first day I met him. But I never imagined he’d be needlessly cruel. And while I probably shouldn’t have been angry, because everything he’d said was technically the truth, it still hurt. It hurt because I’d just decided we could be more, and it hurt because it felt like he’d used things I’d told him and turned them into weapons.

  But I shoved all the hurt away, something I was very good at, and focused on m
y anger. I walked over and slapped him hard across the face. His eyes widened before he made a move to walk away, probably assuming that the slap meant go fuck yourself. And it did. But now I was also in need of a hard and rough fuck, especially if it was our last one.

  I caught his puff of surprise as I wound my hand around his neck and brought our mouths roughly together. Our tongues battled for dominance as I shoved his jacket off. He quickly threw it to the ground before grabbing my hips and lifting me in the air. My legs immediately went around his waist while my hands threaded through his hair. He growled as I pulled, my grip firmer and held longer than normal, and I cried out as he slammed me back against the wall.

  I didn’t remember how we made it to my bedroom. But the second we did, he threw me on the center bed before roughly yanking his shirt over his head and ridding himself of his pants and boxers in one movement. I stared in awe as he confidently walked over and grabbed my foot before dragging me to end of the bed. Roughly grabbing me by the hair, he guided his cock toward my mouth. “Open.”

  Even though my mouth watered, I stubbornly kept it closed as my eyes narrowed on him. He smirked before yanking a little harder, not enough to hurt but just enough to cause my panties to dampen even further, and forcing my mouth open with a shriek that was quickly cut off by his dick in my mouth. I choked at the invasion, a little unprepared for how forceful he was, but I couldn’t deny how turned on I was. My clit throbbed as he continued to fuck my mouth and issue commands of “suck harder,” “move faster,” and “take more.”

  “I’m close.” His voice was low and husky. “Pull down your shirt and bra.”

  I’d never been more grateful for tank tops. Damien’s eyes flared as soon as my breasts were free, and it seemed to trigger his orgasm as he ripped his cock from my mouth and pumped his release onto my chest.

  Holy fucking shit.

  I had never been so aroused in my life. My nails dug into his thighs as I struggled not to touch myself. When he finished coming he shoved me back on the bed before taking my mouth in a devastating kiss, his semi-hard cock rubbing against the juncture of my thighs. Cursing my jeans and thong, I ripped my mouth away and said, “I need you inside me.”

  He chuckled against my neck before sucking the flesh into his mouth. Running one hand down my abdomen, he cupped my sex. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I panted as my eyes closed.

  “I thought it was nothing impressive,” he said as he grabbed my hand and placed it on his dick. I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my fingers around his warm flesh. “I thought this was nothing impressive.”

  Bastard.

  I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him what he wanted as he continued rubbing me through my jeans.

  “Sweetheart,” he murmured, the mocking present for the first time since we met at the tattoo shop. “I’m in control here.” His hand stopped moving and I whimpered at the loss of sensation. “You want to come? Then you’ll do what I say.”

  “Fine,” I hissed as I forcefully squeezed him and gave two quick jerks. “This is impressive. It’s so impressive I nearly go cross-eyed every time you’re inside me. It’s so impressive I masturbate imagining it in my mouth. It’s so impressive I—”

  Like a magnet, his mouth returned to mine and his tongue fucked my mouth as fiercely as I knew his cock would. His hands made quick work of the button on my jeans before he pulled them down and I kicked them off. Trailing kisses down my throat, he reached my breast and promptly took the erect nipple into his mouth. He sucked with so much force that my back arched off the bed and my nails dug into his back.

  “No, no. I’m wet enough,” I said as he made a move to go lower. Damien smirked as he cupped my sex once more and lightly rubbed the heel of his hand against my clit. I clawed at his back as a moan was torn from my throat.

  “You certainly are.” He gently removed my panties as he trailed kisses down one leg and up the other. It was such a contrast to the roughness of moments before. I was torn. On one hand I really wanted the aggression from before, I was still incredibly pissed off and hurt, and it was obvious he was upset as well. But on the other hand, my heart clenched at how gentle he could be. We weren’t together, and now I was pretty sure we’d never be, but I let myself imagine how nice it could be if we were. How sweet and—

  My thoughts were cut off as he slammed into me.

  Ohhh…

  Or how delicious and rough he could be…

  That’d be nice too.

  With no finesse and all signs of tenderness gone, he held nothing back as he pounded into me. His soft but heavy breath was in my ear, while my loud whimpers were probably waking the dead. The only other sound was our slapping skin as he continued to fuck me like it was a punishment.

  “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to breathe tomorrow without feeling it.”

  My breath caught. I loved control. I shouldn’t have loved his dominance like I did. But Jesus… I wanted more. And he wanted to give me more, I could feel it. My eyes squeezed shut at what I was about to do, how I was about to forfeit my control even more and abandon my pride. I lightly ran my hands down his back, leaving whisper-soft marks in my wake before I dug my nails into the globes of his ass and said, “Make it hurt.”

  Lifting his head from my neck, his eyes widened in surprise before a confident smirk graced his swollen lips, and then I saw no more. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as he fucked me so hard I thought I’d split into two. Hard thumps from above my head made me moan louder as I realized we were fucking so hard the headboard was banging into the wall.

  “Goddamn,” he growled. “You feel incredible. You are incredible.”

  I forced my eyes open to see him propped up by his hands near my shoulders, and his eyes smoldered as he gazed down at me. I felt my muscles starting to constrict as my body shook with pleasure.

  My eyes shot fully open and my mouth let out an embarrassing cry when he removed himself.

  “What the—” I cut myself off as he flipped me over, grabbed my hips until I was on my knees, and thrusted into me from behind. He wasted no time in reaching around and grabbing my breast, squeezing roughly before pinching and rolling my nipple.

  “Oh God,” I mumbled into the comforter. His hand continued the assault on my breast while his other trailed down my back until he reached my ass.

  I moved my hand to my center, more than ready to climax. But Damien grabbed it before I could make contact.

  “I make you come. Do you want to come?”

  I nodded as my eyes fluttered shut.

  “Beg me,” he whispered as he slowed down but kept the firm grip on my wrist.

  “Bastard,” I mumbled. He pinched my clit and I jerked against him. “Oh God, I’m close.”

  He stopped and slowly slid out before quickly thrusting back in. “Beg. Me,” he ordered as he stilled, fully inside me.

  “Please, God, please…” I said shamelessly.

  And then I didn’t have to beg anymore. He resumed his fast pace before slapping my ass. A strangled cry left my mouth as the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had took over. I saw bright white lights behind my eyes as my pussy pulsed and my body shook. Minutes later and after three quick thrusts, he paused before shuddering and following me over. I winced slightly when he pulled out, already feeling the rough sex in every part of my body.

  I sat up and reached for my nightshirt before quickly throwing it on. I turned to see Damien disposing of a condom I hadn’t even seen him put on, before stepping into his boxers and tugging on his shirt. He looked less angry than when he walked in and I could have sworn I saw remorse in his eyes. But I barely looked at him before I hopped off the bed and strode to my en suite bathroom. Right before I shut the door, I said, “Now get the fuck out.”

  I hung my head as I left Naomi’s apartment. The second the words had left my mouth, I regretted them. All of them. But I barely had time to let the regret show, let alone apologize, before Naomi was slapping me across the fa
ce. And in even less time than that, her tongue was down my throat. Fast-forward thirty minutes and we were having the best… the fucking best sex of my life. And also the worst.

  Because it came at the price of someone I really cared about.

  Gripping my hair, I blew out a breath of frustration as I kicked a group of rocks across the sidewalk. “Goddamn it,” I muttered, feeling more unsettled than I had when I arrived.

  I knew I could go back in there and make her talk to me, make her forgive me. But the truth was, I didn’t want her forgiveness right now. I deserved her anger.

  And the most ridiculous part was I had wanted to talk to her. I just needed to do it afterward, after I could release all the frustration, anger, and hurt I was feeling. But I released it too soon and onto someone who did nothing to deserve it.

  I closed my eyes and thought back to this afternoon, when everything had started falling apart…

  “Hey, Ells. I got—” I was walking in, carefully balancing the pizza in one hand and a bag full of groceries in the other, when I stopped short. She was sitting at the kitchen table, biting her thumbnail and nervously bouncing her leg. Her gaze was glued to a bottle of amber liquid on the table in front of her. Ellie’s eyes flew to me and I saw them fill with shameful tears as her lip trembled.

  “I—” She stood up and held out her hands in a defensive manner.

  “What. The. Hell?” I cut her off, biting out each word.

  “Maggie stopped by and—”

  “And you thought you’d get drunk?”

  She looked away as her tears fell. “I wasn’t going to do anything,” she mumbled.

  “You’re carrying a fucking baby!” I shouted. When Ellie’s face crumpled further, I took a deep breath. “Eleanor—”