Page 70 of Losing Forever
Has any girl had this much power over me?
I slide her sexy body to my swollen dick. “This is how badly I want you again. This is what you do to me all the time, just by being near me. Do you understand that?”
She rests her dainty hands on my biceps. “Do I understand you’re horny?”
“Not just horny. Obsessed. With you. Only you.”
“What are you saying, Grayson? You want to use me sexually until I’m out of your system?” That tone and face. So much distrust.
“Not use. Using is one-sided, and we agreed to be exclusive. Remember? In the bathroom after the rainstorm?”
Her sky-blue eyes cast to the side. “I remember we discussed not sleeping with anyone else while we were messing around.”
“We’ve moved past messing around, and I’m still here. I still want you.”
She chews her bottom lip.
“What are you thinking? Tell me. I’ll help you work it out.”
She stares at me for a long contemplative moment. “This was supposed to be about acting on my desires and having orgasms, which I achieved thanks to you. But I wonder if a few more rounds of incredible sex and great companionship would cause me to have deeper feelings. I already care about you. I want you to be happy. But it’s safe. You know?”
“I do. And as your personal man-slave, I’ll make sure to keep us in the safe zone. I won’t rave about your beauty or make you feel cherished if that confuses the situation. I’ll keep things sexual and continue to please your body and dirty mind to the best of my ability. I can be a douche if you want, too. I’ll be whatever you need me to be and nothing you don’t.”
She frowns and brushes hair from my eyes. “You should work on pleasing yourself, too. Figure out why you’re a one-and-done kind of guy. I know it’s a choice, but maybe you’re cheating yourself of true happiness. Maybe it’s fear holding you back.”
In typical Braylee fashion, she hits the truth on the head like a hammer, but she doesn’t push it on me. And in typical Grayson fashion, I add a bit of truth of my own. “It’s more than fear, baby. It’s part of my DNA.”
That frown deepens and empathy fills her eyes. “Maybe you need to forgive that part of yourself…or the person behind it.”
I shake my head. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“I get it. Forgiving is one of the hardest things to do, but it’s the only way to move forward. It’s not easy to achieve. I went through a lot of phases. Hating myself. Hating everyone. I punished myself with isolation or starvation. I swore I’d never be happy because I didn’t deserve it after what I did.” Her gaze falls away and her lip trembles.
“What is it you think you did?”
A tear rolls down her cheek. “I’m the reason my family is dead.”
It takes everything in me not to cradle her in my arms and tell her how strong and amazing she is and that she wasn’t the cause of her family’s death. She couldn’t have been.
“I caused the accident,” she goes on. “I dropped out of college. I was stupid, childish, and determined to travel Europe for a year with my friend and boyfriend. My parents were livid. Not about me wanting to travel Europe but about me dropping out before talking to them first. I’d bought my ticket and my dad didn’t believe me. Mom was too upset to speak. My brother, somehow, was still sleeping amid the arguing. Dad wanted proof that I had bought a ticket without telling them anything. Like you and me, we promised to always be open and honest.”
She sniffles and lowers her head. “I pulled up my ticket on my phone and waved it in my dad’s face. I think the light from the bright screen altered his ability to see. It was dark, no moon, but my dad was familiar with the road. We’d rented the mountain cabin plenty of times before. If I hadn’t flashed that light in his face, we wouldn’t have crashed. If it were a deer, he could have stopped or swerved. If it were black ice, he could have steered against it and brought us to a safe stop. Even if it were something else, had my dad not been blinded by my phone, he would have been able to adjust, and they’d be alive. My little brother would be alive.”
Tears soak her cheeks as she sobs. I pull her head to my chest and let her release as much as she needs to. I said I wouldn’t speak about her beauty and keep it sexual, but fuck, this is killing me. “You don’t know that your dad could have dodged or adjusted. Sometimes bad shit just happens. There’s no reason. The accident caused their deaths. Not your phone, or you. The crash, the injuries their bodies sustained, and the fact that they’re human is why they’re dead. What’s amazing is that you’re alive. I might have given up if I were you. But you didn’t. You’re here. There must be a reason for that.”
She cries harder, clutching my shirt and scooting closer, as if she’s trying to climb under my skin. I’d let her. She’s already in there.
I recline on the couch and hold her against me until her sobs turn to sniffles, which turn to hiccups, and eventually, slow breathing.
I’m not sure how long we sit like this, but I’m not about to move her. Not until I’m sure she’s in a deep sleep. I might not even chance it because I want to hold her longer, but her legs are bent, and her blood flow will get cut off if it isn’t already.
I kiss her head, curse myself for not being the man she needs, and promise her there’s a lucky bastard out there who will win her heart—and cherish it for all the days of his life.
25
Braylee
Iwake up in a bed, snuggled against a warm, muscular chest. My body feels rested with a good night’s sleep. A smile creeps across my face, the skin on my cheeks tight as it stretches against dried tears.
