Page 36 of It Never Was

"See, baby…was that so hard? Now we can get past this." His hand is continuing to rub about my clit, the pressure becoming more intense. My breath picks up and he pushes hard against my swollen bud. I groan as he relieves me of my pain and my mind focuses on the feeling he is giving me now, pushing away how I was feeling a moment ago. Dismissing the fear. I want to bask in this moment and forget the rest. Devon must feel the same way because he takes one of my nipples between his fingers, giving it a pinch.

"Devon…" I inhale.

"Let's get you home, huh?" his lips whisper on my ear, his voice husky, and I throb between my legs at the sound. "Before you make a mess Willow will have to clean up."

"Yeah," is all I can muster up.

My head is spinning as Devon helps me stand, his hands leaving my clit and breast. I want them back on me, but I know I can't have them on me much longer here at the shop.

I am being guided out the front door as Devon pulls my bag onto his toned shoulder. My body feels like it is on autopilot; every step feels hollow. My mind is not focused on what's in front of me, instead cataloging the whole encounter. The scenes flashing in front of my vision were like a translucent silent film. I can hear the flapping of the kitchen door just as we get to the entrance. I look back to see Willow watching as I am led away, the look of disapproval written on all over her face. I can only muster up a faint smile, shrugging my shoulders. I know what she is thinking, but I also can't stop from letting him control my movement. I have no fight or flight; it's shut down and obey.

"I guess I will lock up as you leave," she says matter-of-factly.

"Probably a good idea," Devon replies just as dryly.

"Bye Willow," my words follow me out the door.

Feeling her eyes on the back of my head, I don't have to look to know she is shaking her head at me.

22

Ryen

As Devon leads me to the parking lot, I feel him making his way to his car instead of mine. The whole encounter is a hazy memory, but surely, he knows I have my car here. I have work in the morning as well as class. I can't be car-less.

"Devon, my car is that way, in its usual spot." I point to my green Honda Civic at the far end of the parking spots.

"I know where your car is." He tugs at my waist. I must have been veering towards my car without even realizing it. "You aren't taking your car. We are taking mine."

"I have work in the morning, Devon. I can't leave my car." I try to make the words come out stronger than I feel.

My body is yanked to the side, and the cold of metal seeps through my sweater to my back, causing me to shiver. Devon has me pinned to the door of his Mustang on the passenger side. His head dips to the notch between my neck and shoulder, lips caressing the sensitive area he knows drives me crazy. Goosebumps spread across my body, and I let the pleasure engulf me. This is what I need from him. I need him to make me feel good right now, to take away the knot that was settling into my gut and use pleasure to wash away the pain. He sternly presses me harder against his car, letting out a growl that vibrates down my neck, and I grow wetter.

The memory of a week ago flashes in my mind. The same situation happening again, my breath starts to pick up in panic.

He was pushing hard against his car, my spine hitting metal. His grasp on my arm, the burn as he threw me to the ground.

It's not the same; we made up.

I said sorry.

He said—

Wait.

The realization that he never apologized hits me. I can feel the blood drain from my face. My body tenses.

"Devon…" I shudder out. Every nerve in my body tells me to shut up, to let it go. Screaming at me to not ask, they know what the outcome will be…but I have to.

"Hmm?" His lips don't leave my neck, his hand sliding under my sweater.

"Am I gonna get my apology now?" I try to sound playful, keep the mood light. I don't want him to flip his mood now. I don't want him to change what he is doing, but I also want an apology.

Fuck, I need the apology.

Maybe it's because if he says he is sorry I can move past this. I can make it make sense in my head.

So you can gaslight yourself?

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