Being Emerald (17 page)

She cried, “Please, Rock.”

“Please what, baby? Please keep you alive? Please show you the error of your ways? Please help you learn how not to get yourself killed?” He pushed into her. When he was completely rooted inside, he stilled. “That’s what I’m doing, peanut. I’m teaching you a valuable lesson. And you need to learn it.”

He gripped her hips, the pads of his fingers digging into her flesh, and lifted her until she was on tiptoes, continuing to advance and retreat with his soapy penis. When he began to pump, it was hard and fast, filling her to the edge of pain and then withdrawing until the ringed muscles of her anus traveled over the curiously taut skin around the head of his cock.

He wrapped his arms around her, one hand landing on her breast, the other low on her belly, holding her in place so she didn’t surge forward as he pumped into her over and over. Her legs buckled, but his forearms kept her in place.

His lips were close to her ear, and Laila’s scrambled mind latched on to his quick grunts accompanying every balls deep thrust.

With one last burgeoning push, he filled her with jets of hot come. He pulled out unceremoniously and let her go. She fell to her knees and searched his face, hoping she would see the approval she so desperately needed. She didn’t. Though, most of his stress had washed down the drain, it didn’t seem like he wanted to let it go. After every other time he’d punished her, they would revert to their easy intimacy. Tonight, he withdrew from their enmeshed relationship, and she wanted nothing more than to get back into his good graces, to be his “peanut” again.

“Don’t lie to me again.” He turned off the water.

“I’m sorry, Rock.”

“So am I, peanut. So am I.” He left her there on the shower floor.

She lay there for a while, buzzed and exhausted, before she finally pulled herself up and stepped out.

Rock grabbed a towel and tossed it to her. “Get dressed.”

He had already put his shorts and T-shirt on. “I’m going to start dinner.” He turned and left without another glance, leaving her standing there, dripping and stunned.

Her stomach roiled and she had to force herself not to cry. Laila snagged the clean, oversized T-shirt from the vanity, and tugged it on while walking out the bathroom door.

Downstairs, Rock moved around the kitchen proficiently, and none of the malice she’d seen in his gaze remained, until he looked up and found her there. Laila stood stock still as he considered her. His eyes could be so warm and welcoming or frighteningly polar. Today, she needed a parka to bear the look. It was the first time she’d been a victim of the icy stare he gave others.

He motioned for her to sit at the island. “You do realize I pick up on the fact you lie right to my face, don’t you?” he asked calmly.

It pissed her off that he was talking to her that way, so calmly, as if she were a mental patient or something. “Yes.”

“The dancing around subjects, leading me to other topics, and thinking I don’t know exactly what you’re doing insults my intelligence.” He stepped forward and gripped her chin, raising it so their gazes met. His stare bore down on her, a physical weight pegging her in place. “Why would I make love to a woman who doesn’t respect me enough to be truthful?”

Near tears, she pressed her lips together so he wouldn’t see her lower one quiver. There was no correct answer to his question.

“And then I ask myself, why is fucking me, a man you have no respect for, so important to you?” He stepped away then, resuming his dinner prep and leaving her feeling detached from him both physically and emotionally. “Until you completely understand who I am, how I am, and what I’ll expect from you, you’re far, far away from where you need to be before I fuck that pussy.”

Her self-confidence wavered. She licked her lips, trying to moisten them while her heart tripped.

“I don’t think you know the first thing about love, about devotion, and certainly not about loyalty. You need to get a clue.” He swept his fingers through his shaggy hair, looking as if he was trying to stall what came next. With his hands on his hips, he looked around the room, at the ceiling, everywhere except at her and sighed. “I haven’t fucked the living shit out of you a thousand times by now because—” He stilled and cocked his head, and then shook it as if in resignation. “I don’t want to get you pregnant.”

Laila was stunned first, crushed second. In this world, a baby was the ultimate privilege, especially for people who grew up Amber like they had. The words constituted the worst insult ever flung her way and hurt her more than any physical wound ever could. “Would that be so bad?” she whispered.

“Yes. Right now, I’m more concerned about making sure you’re one hundred percent informed about what I want from you before I even consider that. I thought you were almost there, that you got it. But now, I’m not sure.”

“What else could you possibly want from me?” Her raised voice was high and thready. “I’ve already told you my most important secret, spent every second of every day with you. You take my fucking tampons out for God’s sake, Rock. What else do you want?”

“I found out about your secret only after I’d practically figured it out anyway. And, you’re still holding other things back from me. I’d bet money the information you’re holding on to is enough to get you killed.”

When she didn’t deny his statement, he took another step from her and raked a hand through his hair. “By holding back on me, you’re telling me you’re not all in. You’re not ready.”

“What I keep secret is barely anything. I am ready. I just don’t know how to prove it to you.”

“You prove it through actions, and your actions shout loud and clear that complete trust between us is”—his face turned icy—“lacking.”

In that moment, Laila realized just how fed up he was.

“You’ve got to be able to do the simple shit before we can move on to the rest. Once you’re mine, you’re mine, every last fucking molecule of you, however and whenever I want. And right now, you have no idea what that entails because you can’t commit to openness and honesty between us, let alone anything else more significant. I’m not planning on changing who I am or what I want from you. It’s you who has to adjust, if this is going to work. So, no, you being pregnant right now is not a good thing.”

Laila’s heart squeezed.

“This is me being honest. I’ll always be honest with you.”

Her throat tightened. Oh fuck no. She was not going to cry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d thought this out so well.”

“Now you do.”

Laila was speechless.

“It’s not just the Resistance secrets holding us back. This relationship will not progress until you let your guard down enough to have an up-close-and-personal conversation with me. Share our histories, our hopes, our fears. You know nothing about me.” He pressed his palm to his chest. “Do you realize, you’ve never asked me when my birthday is, or how old I am? You’ve never asked me what my favorite food is or, better yet, walked around the counter and cooked with me.”

He was right. She had been holding back more than just a few tidbits of information. Her five years of being a social pariah and the only person in her world had screwed her up in subtle, unnoticeable ways layered one upon another. She’d been living life alone inside her head for so long, she’d become disconnected.

He knew everything about her, had taken the time to study her, ask her questions. He’d put so much effort into getting to know her, truly know her, he could accurately decipher her body language and practically read her thoughts, including how she felt in any given moment.

She loved him. Why hadn’t she made any efforts to do the same?

“At this point in my life, it’s more important for me to connect here”—he tapped his temple—“than here.” He cupped his junk.

Before she could say anything, he shook his head. “Don’t get mad. Just think about it. What I want for us could be earth shattering. I won’t settle for anything less. Not even for you.”

He was going to tell her he didn’t want her anymore. Simply considering having to return to her life, the way it was before she’d met him, made her feel as if the floor was crumbling beneath her feet. He’d become such an intrinsic part of her life. The thought of losing him, of losing their constant connection, scared her.

Laila gathered her dignity, lifted her chin and with a mangled heart, walked out of his house. The trip across the street was a blur. She checked behind her as she reached her front door. There was no sign of Rock. He hadn’t followed.

She’d hoped he had.

She stepped inside, locked the front door behind her and took the stairs to her bedroom. The late day sun slanted into the room, lighting up the floating dust motes and splashing bright quadrangles of light on the pale yellow duvet covering her bed. She nose-dived onto it, and hugged her pillow as the spongy mattress shaped itself to her curves.

She’d been too focused on what she hadn’t been getting, his dick, and what that meant and the
Emily
tattooed on his chest and what that meant.

Eyes closed, she tried to make sense of her current circumstances. He wasn’t wrong. Her years in Sapphire had taught her to keep her mouth shut. Any poorly chosen word could be used against her, or twisted by changing the inflection, altering the tone. It was a short jump from prejudice to hatred and too easy for anybody to whisper her name in a Guard’s ear.

That’s how Sapphire and Emerald operated. They were a society of sycophants, robots scared to be who they truly were for fear of rubbing someone the wrong way. The consequences could be deadly. They all were so incredibly tense and scared, it altered the way humans interacted with each other. There, a room full of people was still an isolated place. It was sad how they’d evolved through some kind of warped version of survival of the fittest, where the fittest were those who conformed. What once was a species that felt free to express themselves, love one another, and had the courage to fight for what was right had boiled down to this society of terrified souls trapped in a shell of conformity.

Fear paled every experience, muted joy, impeded love. How could a person love when they were too afraid to show themselves to someone else? Her distance was instinctual. It was self-preservation.

The strategy was exhausting, and she was very, very tired of all of it.

Laila dozed in the space where the mind lingers between consciousness and sleep until she gave in and let sleep take her.

“Do you like the life we’re living here, Laila?” Rock’s words pulled Laila out of her slumber. She poked her head from beneath the sheet, still groggy from too little of the restless sleep she’d been able to manage. He stood in the bedroom doorway, looking as if he’d also tossed and turned throughout the night. Maybe soul searching, like her.

“It’s time, maybe past time for me to put all my cards on the table and show you how this relationship will work, if it works at all.”

Panic crawled up her throat. She beat it down and spoke as calmly as she could. “What do you mean, if it works at all? Rock we’ve come too far—”

“No. I’m more controlling than I’ve ever been before, and I was a fuck of a lot back in the Amber Zone. I’m not so sure you can accept me this way.”

“You know I can. I love you, Rock.”

He shook his head. “I know I was hard on you yesterday. You have no idea, peanut, what I’m capable of, what I find exciting. It’s time you find out.” His troubled gaze fixed on something over her shoulder. “If you know what I am, what fucked up shit I need sometimes just to feel anything at all, all the deviant shit I’ll need from you, you can make a more informed choice about whether you want to be with me.” He sat on the bed with his back against the headboard. She shifted and laid her head in his lap, looking up at him. “But first, I need an answer. Do you like your time with me?”

“Yes. Every minute. I crave it when we’re apart.”

“Do you think about the things I do with your body after we’re done, re-living them, over and over?”

“Yes.”

“So do I. Whether I’m in the thrill of the moment, or remembering it later, it’s in those times I feel most alive. I do what I want. Touch what I want. And yes, do things for you that you can do for yourself.” He grasped her hand and squeezed. “I’ve
lived
these past weeks. And so have you. Every moment with you reminds me life looks beautiful, smells beautiful and feels beautiful. I want to give that to you too. I want you to feel things you’ve never felt, taste whatever I chose to put on your tongue and experience every physical sensation. I’ll wake you up just to watch the sunrise, and do things to your body just so I can hear your cries. I’ll give you your highest highs, lowest lows, and together, we’ll experience every range of emotion doing it.”

“To me, this”—he motioned between them—“what we have between us, is living. It’s who I am. If you’re waiting for me to let up, to watch you less closely, to stop taking care of you, it won’t happen. I will always be this way.” He peered down at her, a sad smile on his face.

“I’m scared, Rock. I’ve been alone, building walls for so long. I’m scared I’ll give you everything and lose myself. I’m scared what will happen to me if you really know me inside and out. What if I’m not what you want? I’m scared I can’t give you everything you need.”

Rock’s expression softened. A sad smile curved his lush lips. “I thought you’d figured it out already.”

“Figured what out?”

“You’re not alone. Fear, Laila, is what makes me who I am. My utter terror of losing you…” He shook his head, cleared his throat. “It rules me. I was already extremely protective before, when I was in the Amber Zone. Now, it’s so much worse. It’s fucking ridiculous.” He let out a sigh of resignation. “I can’t stop it. I’ve tried. I was miserable.”

“What you want from me is a difficult way to move through life. Yes, it’s exciting, exhilarating even, the way you have of keeping me slightly off balance and guessing your next move. But—”

“I know it takes a herculean effort to be what I need.” He cupped her face and his loving expression melted her fear. “I promise the reward of what we’re building will be beyond all of your most fantastic expectations. I can’t put into words how special it is to share a bond as strong as the one waiting for us. The only way to understand it is to experience it firsthand.”