most others. The drapes are heavy, and there’s no moon. It’s almost pitch-black but for a sliver of light shining under the door.
It’s like part of my night is missing if I can’t watch him before falling asleep.
My bed creaks. My heart stops, then pounds as he lies down behind me. I turn and face him.
“I couldn’t see you from over there,” he says.
I smile, knowing he was feeling the same as me. I can just make out his face. “Me neither.”
“I don’t want to keep you up,” he says. “I know it’s late. I just needed to see you.”
Neither of us says another word. Eventually, we drift off to sleep.
~ ~ ~
The bed shakes. It takes me a second to realize Liam’s still in it. He’s the reason the bed is shaking. He’s shaking. I touch his shoulder, but he doesn’t wake up. I put my hand on his chest. “Liam!”
A pained cry escapes him. “No!” he shouts and pins me to the mattress. It’s still dark, but not so much I can’t see how angry he is. How afraid. He looks ready to kill me. Then he sees it’s me.
I touch his cheek. “It’s okay.”
I barely get the words out before he leans down and kisses me. At first, it’s harsh and demanding, but then it turns into something soft, inviting, incredible. His erection presses into me, and I arch my back. I’m afraid to touch him. It might break the spell.
He moans into my mouth. My body is on fire. Never have I wanted a man this much. His lips graze my chin and up my jaw. They touch me in such a sensual way that every single one of my nerves is hyperaware. It’s everything I can do not to run my hands down his back, up his arms, around his neck. When he grinds into me, my willpower fails, and I grab the globes of his ass.
He immediately pulls back and rolls off me, putting distance between us. There is no sound other than our heavy breathing. The tension in the air is suffocating.
“It can never go beyond this,” he says.
“Why?”
“Because you’ll say what everyone does. That I’m a pervert.”
“Why? What usually happens next, Liam?”
“You don’t want to know.”
I’m afraid and curious at the same time. I’ve trusted him since we met. He’s never given me a reason not to. But what if he hurts women? What if his dad taught him it’s the only way? Suddenly, I’m the one who’s shaking. “Tell me.”
It’s still dark. I wonder if that’s the only reason he tells me about his past. Maybe it’s easier to talk when you can’t see the expressions of the person you’re talking to.
“I don’t kiss girls, Ella. I fuck them.”
“You kissed me.”
He sighs. “You’re different.”
“So maybe we could be different.”
“No.” He turns away and stares at the ceiling. “I fuck them. Or I watch them do things to each other. But they never touch me.”
“I don’t understand. How can you make love to someone without them touching you?”
He laughs painfully. “You think I make love to them? No, El. I’ve never done that. I told you, I fuck. And they never touch me. Nobody will ever touch me again.”
I inch closer. “I want to, Liam.”
“No.”
“But a minute ago, when you were on top of me, we were touching.”
“That’s different.”
“It’s my hands you don’t want touching you?”
“Yes.”
“But that night in Orlando, I woke up with my hand on your chest. Why was it okay then?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can I put my hand on your chest?”
“Ella,” he warns.
I inch closer. “I’m going to do it.”
He inhales sharply when I touch him, but he doesn’t run away screaming so I leave my hand where it is. I leave it there until I fall asleep.
~ ~ ~
A sliver of light through the drapes wakes me. My head is on Liam’s chest, and his arm is around me. I’ve been touching him all night. I want to wake up every morning with him in my arms.
But he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want me to touch him. I lie here and cry quietly, thinking of a boy so traumatized by his father that he thinks he can’t have a normal relationship. What did he do to him? Horrible thoughts bombard me as I think of the possibilities. I won’t ask him. I can’t. It might destroy me having to hear it. Maybe even as much as it would destroy him having to say it.