Lacey
It was cruel. So cruel. To know she could never be loved. Her whole life, she’d known this. Nobody had ever looked at her in that way, so tender and caring, or even hot and burning with lust. Not until she found Kirby. Not until he burned for her and taught her the pain and pleasure of that inferno.
The first time hadn’t been good -she wasn’t stupid. He’d been selfish and ruthless in the way that he took her. He’d loved that he could speak to her body no matter how hard she’d tried to fight it. It didn’t matter that she was terrified and hurt, didn’t matter that she was afraid of him, swore she hated him. Because her body loved him, ached and trembled for the things he did and the way he purred against her skin. There must be something emotional that happens for a girl’s first time. There must be. Because her body loved him, and dragged her pathetic heart with it, especially after the second time when it hadn’t been bad at all, hadn’t hurt. Had been nothing but good, so good.
She’d never been looked at in that way he looked at her, ravenous with desire as if she were beautiful, as if she meant something, even so shallow as lust. Her stupid heart decided it would take what it would get. She couldn’t have more, so lust would be enough.
Turned out, it hadn’t been enough.
She couldn’t help but wish and wish and pray he could feel something more for her. Every girl wants a fairytale. But Kirby had caught that pained glitter in her eyes as she tried to walk away, tried to pretend it was nothing to her too. He’d backed off so quickly, so easily, and it stung to see how little it meant to him. But if she couldn’t have love, couldn’t she at least have this? It had made her want to turn back around, throw herself back in his arms and plead. Don’t go. Please don’t take this from me, I swear I won’t ask for more. Just don’t take this from me. The closest thing to love she’d ever find. Just a little bit of lust.
Seemed she was stronger than that, and kept walking.
For once, she cursed her strength to fucking hell.
So the universe was cruel indeed to send Reilly to her. Perfect Reilly. To shove it in her face how stupid and foolish she was. Because, finally, here was a man that had that other look in his eyes for her. The tender one. Impossible. This new one frightened her. She knew the lust, knew it meant nothing but a bit of fun. Just two people making each other’s bodies sing. She might have been able to handle that from Reilly, might have been able to bury her heart safely away and see what another man was like. Maybe. If she could loosen her grip on Kirby long enough. Maybe it would have even proven that lie, that it meant nothing to her too.
But there was more than heat in those blue-green eyes of his, and she didn’t know what to do about it. She didn’t know how to handle anything more than lust, had barely learned that one as it was. No matter what she did, she was going to hurt him somehow. Someday. In some way. She already had, hadn’t she?
So she listened to him with her eyes closed and her face resting on the ground so near him, listened with a heart that was learning to break further. What would she do if Reilly ever left? She couldn’t bear to imagine it. It wasn’t fair to him to need him this much. He said he wanted to stay, though. With the kids, with her. It punched at her heart when he said that. With her. Maybe she was just as cruel as Kirby somehow. Maybe she’d managed to tangle a heart she hadn’t meant to reach for. More than that, he wanted to be here. And he wanted her. Her eyes slid open at the painful ring of truth in it. Everything she ever wanted was right here, and her mangled heart didn’t know how to beat anymore. Not when it was so busy bleeding for a man that would never want her for more than her body. Not even that, now, actually. She was back to being nothing.
But not to Reilly. She was something to Reilly. Somehow.
She felt so confused and lost as she lifted her head to look at him, her brown eyes dark with uncertainty and fear. Afraid to screw up. Afraid to hurt him or make him leave somehow, afraid of being hurt too. The movement brought them even closer, but she forced herself not to back away. Just fight it, just a little. He was so tense, straining. Did he really want to touch her so badly? She was nothing, it shouldn’t matter so much to him. But he did want to, he said so. God, Lacey. I want to touch you. But I won’t. Not ever. Not until you ask me to. Until you want me to.
Of course, she wanted him to. Someone to hold her up and support her instead of unwittingly tossing her heart around. Someone to lean on when she was weak, until she could hold herself high again.
”I will never hurt you, Lace. Never.”
His eyes fell from hers, walked slowly, gently down her face to linger at her mouth. Her lips parted of their own will with a quiet catch in her breath, her heart racing uncertainly and her brows pinched in confusion. What was she supposed to do? What was right and wrong in something like this? No matter what she did, she was going to hurt him, wasn’t she? She was going to hurt herself, too. God, she didn’t know what to do. But she knew what he wanted. He wanted to touch her. All she had to do was ask. He should know better; she never asks. She would never beg or plead, she would never ask.
She swallowed and closed her eyes. No, she opened them. Had to see. She counted the inches between them again. Counted, counted, and they got smaller, and her pulse fluttered faster as she leaned closer. Her eyes lifted to his, a little wide, unsure, her confidence gone again. Was this okay? Was this right? It’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? He was sure, wasn’t he? Too late to ask, too late to question as her lips brushed across his nose. Warm, he was so warm, and his skin was like velvet. Not impossibly smooth like metal. Her chest tightened and she retreated, just barely, could still feel his breath on her.
Now what?
She didn't know, was so confused. So lost.
That's what he wanted, wasn't it? Now what?
