Authors: Alannah Carbonneau
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic Erotica, #Novel
All Good Things Exposed
By Alannah Carbonneau
Copyright 2013 Alannah Carbonneau
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Table of Contents
He was inside me. I was filled with him. Filled with the mind-numbing ecstasy that claimed me every time he possessed my body.
His lips were on my skin. They burned hot, trailing a path over my flesh.
His hand grasped my hip. He held me possessively and my body knew I was his forever more.
He thrust inside me again and my mind fought against the agony I knew was coming. He would come and I would find release with him. But I knew I would never really find release. He was my release. My only release. And, I've banished him from my life.
He slid from within me and I knew, he knew, we were doomed. Without him inside me, filling me, thrusting - I was empty. I was void of any and all emotion apart from this debilitating sorrow I felt creep into my veins.
His shoulders filled the door and I watched cold and naked on my bed as he paused. He turned back to look at me, and agony burned in his icy blue eyes. The line of his jaw was hard. His fists were clenched.
And then he was gone.
My throat closed. Anguish seared through my chest in a violent torrent of loss. I couldn't breathe. He was gone. Jace was gone. He wasn't coming back. He couldn't come back to me. I'd pushed him away and now I was dying a slow and painful death without him. My stomach was heavy. I felt as though it had been cut open, filled with boulders, and sewn back together.
I couldn't breathe.
There was no air.
I couldn't breathe.
I shot upright in my bed, clutching the hot pain in my chest. Raspy gasps filled the silence around me as I pulled air into my starved lungs. Shock subsided to sorrow and tears fell from my eyes in uncontrollable rivers. My hands trembled as my numb fingers clutched at the duvet, bringing it closer to my chest as I curled into a tight ball on the corner of my bed. It was the only part of my bed that was not wet with sweat from my earlier nightmare. It shouldn't have mattered that the bed was wet. With the tears free-flowing from my eyes, it wouldn't be long before this small section of the bed was wet too. I knew this with certainty. I had repeated this exact scenario each night for the last seven weeks. Every night I relived the stormy evening I last had Jace. The evening when I'd watched him obey my only request and walk away from me without ever coming back.
I had thought then that I was making the right choice. I thought it was the best thing for both of us. But how could it be when this was the result? How could this be better than facing his demons head-on? How could this agony be any better than the agony I would face with Jace if I were to have submitted to his sadomasochistic desires?
I knew the answer. And it killed me.
I would have been better off to accept Jace for what he was. I would have been better off losing myself in him than losing myself in this hell I had grown so accustomed to. In the last seven weeks, I had felt nothing aside from this mind crushing, heart breaking debilitating pain. But each day, I was succeeding in becoming numb to the world around me and to the ache within. Each day, I was slowly succeeding in turning off my heart.
With a heavy sigh, I kicked off my blankets and strode to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and stripped from my wet clothes. My skin was covered in goose bumps and I shivered as I stepped into the glass-encased steam of the shower. My knees weakened as my mind took me back to the night Jace's past clashed with my present and bulldozed our future. I thought of that night every day. It was impossible not to when I blamed it for my current state of tormented disarray. I loathed Lexie for telling me the truth about Jace. I had been comfortable and content with the illusion I had crafted of the man I'd fallen madly in love with. I knew from the beginning he needed control. And I accepted it. I even valued it to some degree. But now I saw that need in a different light and it wasn't something to be valued. It was something to be feared. Jace was so much worse than anything my mind ever could have prepared me for. I couldn't imagine deriving pleasure from the abusive ways of a sadomasochist. But that was what he was. It was what he wanted - what he needed. And I was certain there was no changing him. But why then, hadn't I seen that side of him before? Never before had he taken an abusive hand to my body. His every touch had been coated with gentleness that now surprised me. If Jace hadn't have admitted to wanting to inflict pain and humiliation upon me, then I might have allowed myself to wade in the belief that maybe, just maybe, I could be enough to quell the malicious beast living within. But I wasn't enough. Of that I was certain.
That though was like a kick to the gut and the little strength left in my knees fled. In a heap of limps, I fell to the floor of the shower. My beaded tears mixed with the harsh pebbles of water as I lay my cheek to the floor of the shower and wept. I cried for what felt like eternity until I was again numb. I didn't have another tear left to shed and I climbed weakly to my feet to resume with my shower.
As I shampooed my hair and washed my body, I thought of Jace. He was all I ever really thought of anymore. His mouth. His touch. His ice blue eyes. He might have walked out of my life, but he still owned every crevice of my heart. I feared he forever would.
I hadn't spoken to Jace in seven weeks. But that didn't stop me from listening to the melodic sound of his voice that lived in my memory. And, I might not have seen him in seven weeks. But I knew what was going on in his life. He was Jace Rush. And his adventurous accomplishments were always spread on Google for the world to read about - for me to read about. I had to admit, I was, in some sick way, obsessed with him. I couldn't leave my bedroom without first checking Google for any 'Jace Rush' updates.
After leaving me alone with my shattered heart seven weeks ago, Jace had left New York for his trip to Paris. I surfed the net constantly for any proof that he might be as destroyed as I was inside, but there was none. Jace was still as well put together as he always was. His hair impeccable, his body toned, his eyes piercing. He was the epitome of utter perfection and I was the fucking epitome of disaster. Jace moved on with his life as though I had never held a place in it. And that devastated me - demolishing what was left of my heart. As far as I knew, Jace was in Ney York City again. But I hadn't seen him. For that small grace, I was glad. If I seen Jace, I knew I would spiral into a depression I may never climb out of. He had given me a reason to live and love - a reason to believe in something I had never been strong enough to risk. And then he'd left me without a fight. He had just walked away. But I had told him to.
In all honesty, I knew I gave him little to no choice that night. When I asked him to go and never return to me - I had meant it. I hadn't wanted to see him again. I believed, although I knew it would be difficult, that I would get over him. I thought in time, I would find a way to appreciate the memories he left me with. I hadn't been prepared for the feelings of utter desperation that consumed me only hours after his departure. I never thought it was possible for me to need someone this way. As though they were the air I breathed…the blood in my veins…the beat in my heart. Jace was all of this to me. He was my life. It was no wonder I was slowly falling apart inside, wasting away to nothing. I now fully believed in what I had always thought impossible; I knew without a doubt, I could die of a broken heart.
I opened the door of my bedroom to find Moo-moo curled against the frame. He opened sleepy eyes and meowed, pulling a smile from somewhere deep inside of me. It was real and humble. As of late, only Moo-moo was able to elicit a smile from me. I knelt, patted his head and walked into the kitchen. I had already checked Google alerts for anything new on Jace. There were none. He was leading a pretty boring life as of late. The usual parade of girls adorning his image in photos had dwindled. He was all about business and no pleasure. But that didn't mean he didn't have another woman bowing to his whims. She could be in the background, a means to an end for him. The thought drilled another hole into my heart and I held my chest tight in response to the pain. Oh, there was so much pain.
I clutched the countertop as I gasped for breath, trying and failing to push Jace from my mind. He had no right claiming me this way. His memory had no right to halt my life from continuing like normal. Anger sparked in my chest and I knew this was a cycle. It was familiar. I went through it every day. I knew the anger would only last a few short minutes before the pain dulled the flood of emotions within me, voiding me of anything and everything that made me appear human.
I pushed from the counter, dished Moo-moo his canned breakfast and started making coffee before the pain swelled within me again. I moaned into the silence, leaning over the sink as I heaved dryly.
"You're sick, Liv." Trisha's tired voice assaulted my senses and I groaned. "You need help."
"No," I moaned. "I just need him."
"Then call him." She sighed and suddenly her hand was on my back, rubbing away the build-up of stress. "Call him." She said forcefully and I flinched.
"I can't." I shook my head, feeling nauseous. I wasn't in the least afraid that I might actually release the contents of my stomach. I felt the need to throw up, but I knew it wouldn't happen. I had nothing in my stomach to empty. I barely ate a cube of cheese a day. I simply couldn't stomach the feeling. It was awful.
"You can." Trisha's hand moved up the length of my spine. Her touch was warm, pulling beads of sweat from my hairline as I tried to shrug off her touch. She refused to be moved. "You can't go on this way. You need to make a decision, Liv, because I can't watch you do this for much longer. It's been two months!"
"Seven weeks," I gasped. "It's been seven weeks."
"Shit, Liv." I felt her shake her head and I slammed my eyes shut tight as I leaned into the sink, trying to calm the raging pain. I never thought this was possible. I never once thought someone would have the power to destroy me in their absence. "I don't know how to help you, but you're scaring me."
"I'm sorry." I said numbly as I heaved myself from my crouch over the counter. "I'm trying to forget him."
"No you're not." She shook her head. "And even if you were, by some miracle trying to forget him, you won't. Because you can't."
"What?" I frowned.
"You can't just forget about someone you love." She smiled sadly and my heart solidified with the weight of a mountain, dropping through my body all the way to my foot. I was floored.
"I can't," My voice croaked and I closed my mouth, willing away my tears.
"Jeez, Liv." Trisha reached up for a mug and brought down two. "Let's have a coffee. We have a big day today and we're going to need energy."
I nodded because there was nothing else for me to do. Coffee had been a main staple for me these last seven weeks. I ate just barely enough to keep me going and that was it. It was all I could stomach. With the constant thought of Jace weighing down on the nerves in my stomach, the idea of adding food to the mixture made me want to run to the nearest washroom to empty the already sparse contents of my stomach. I had lost weight. Almost fifteen pounds. I hadn't had fifteen pounds to lose and I was now aware I looked sickly thin. But I didn't care. I wasn't trying to catch anyone's eye. I already lost the one man I cared about…the one man I was able to find a love in my heart for. No other would do. It was just as well that I be unattractive to those around me rather than having to constantly fend off prying eyes. I couldn't deal with that.
Trisha handed me my coffee and I took a sip of the bittersweet taste. It was energy in a cup and I reveled in it. I owed my measured sanity to coffee these last seven weeks. Even my trusted white hot chocolate had nothing on the caffeine.