Blood of Cupids (5 page)

“What the hell did you think was going to happen here,
Grace? Did you think I was coming up here to cuddle? How old are you?” He said.

I was so embarrassed. The effects of the alcohol had worn
off and I was practically naked and had no idea what I was doing. Literally, I
had
no
idea what I was doing. I couldn’t answer. I just stared at him.

“Oh my God, how old are you, Grace?”

“No, no, I’m twenty three.”

“Twenty three? And you’ve never…
you’ve
never…you’re
so…”

He was stumbling over his words.

“Don’t be mad.”

“Seriously? Yes, I’m mad. You can’t just stop a man in the
middle of… and drop a bomb like this. Who the hell do you think you are? I
thought this was happening. God!”

“Ryan, it was, and… and it still can… I just need you to
take it slow.”

“Are you asking me to…? Do you know what kind of pressure
that is? Or how twisted that is? You’re wasted, Grace. I’m not taking away
the...” he could barely say the word, “the virginity that you’ve obviously been
holding onto for some God forsaken reason, just because you’re having a moment
of weakness. What do you take me for?”

I could see the fire building up inside of him. The thing
was, I wasn’t holding on to my virginity for any moral reason. It’s simply
impossible to lose it when your infamous father is constantly breathing down
your neck. No one dared to even touch me, and I don’t blame them for that. But
it didn’t mean I didn’t so desperately want to be touched.

“Ryan.” I pleaded as I crawled to the edge of the bed,
begging for him to stop dressing. “There’s no ‘God forsaken reason’. I’ve just
never been given the opportunity.”

“Don’t play games with me, Grace. You know you’re fucking
gorgeous.”

I couldn’t help but blush at the compliment, even if he was
raging. I slid off the edge of the bed and cautiously approached him. I was
exposed, and that should have mattered to me, but the pain he was feeling was
too overpowering for any other emotions to take shape. I shot my arm out,
grabbing his chest. My hand tingled at the touch. His body was beautiful,
perfect. Across the right side of his rib cage was a tattoo. It was a giant set
of wings with an arrow piercing the feathers. The sketch looked oddly familiar,
as if it haunted my dreams, but I was unable to place it. I’m sure I was just
caught up in the moment.

“Don’t touch me!” He bellowed as he spun toward me, seizing
my wrist.

“I’m sorry, I just…please sit?” I wasn’t scared of him. This
was nothing compared to the anger I’d seen in the club. I’ve seen the way men
can treat women. Not much could faze me, and yet, I hated to see this side of
him. I ached to heal his pain; I didn’t want to be the cause of it.

Ryan stared at me for a moment, and I could see the lust in
his eyes. He wanted me. Couldn’t we just start over?

“I have to go.”

“No. Stay.”

“I can’t. That’s not the way this works, Grace.”

Why did he keep saying my name? It made the fact that he was
leaving that much harder.

I grabbed his gaze and held on for dear life. I wanted him
to know how I was feeling. I wanted him to know that I was angry too. I didn’t
want this to be my life. I wanted to be a normal girl who had experienced
things first hand, instead of one who only witnessed it all by walking into a
clubhouse, looking for her father through a wreckage of the previous night’s
party. I’ve seen what alcohol could do to you, I’ve seen what sex could do to
you, but I had no idea what they would do to me. Why couldn’t I tell him all of
this?

Because it would scare him the fuck away. That’s why. But
wasn’t I already doing that?

Even with my naked body before him, Ryan’s eyes didn’t stray
from mine. The fire between us was growing, and I could feel our bodies inching
toward each other, even if only in spirit. I couldn’t handle the energy any
longer, and my eyes dropped, knowing I was losing the battle. I felt his hand
wrap around my arm and pull me close to him, my face instantly tilting up to
his. My breath became labored, and it was impossible not to attach a sound to
it. I wanted him. By now I was stone cold sober, and I wanted all of him. Why
did I feel the need to admit my fault in the first place?

Our lips drifted closer and closer, longing to be one, and
yet, I still felt hesitation. His grip on my arm tightened, causing my stomach
to stir even more. If I could have only lifted to my toes, our kiss would be
complete. I began to rise, but saw a change in his face as he sensed my motive.

“Ryan, I want you to…”

I saw a moment of weakness, but it was quickly followed by a
shake of his head as he dropped his hold on my arm. He turned, heading toward
the front door.

“Ryan, please!”

But he didn’t swing around. He had given up on me.

I heard the door slam, and I collapsed to the floor. How could
I expect normal? I was not normal. Nothing about me was normal.

In that moment, I hated everything about myself. I hated my
looks, my body, my actions, and my family. I pulled a t-shirt over my head,
trying to hide anything I could. Then my feet started moving under me. They
were running toward the door. I was chasing him. I didn’t want him to leave,
and God dammit, I was going to make him come back. I swung the door open,
prepared to run down the stairs in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear, but I
was stopped suddenly in the doorway. Ryan hadn’t left. He was standing in the
doorframe, staring down at me. It seemed like hours of intense eye contact
before he gave in with a sigh and crushed his lips to mine.

I sucked in all the breath I could as he snatched the
t-shirt from my body, let out an audible groan, threw me over his shoulder, and
made his way back toward the bedroom. I couldn’t help but smile. Then again,
what had I just given into?

He flipped me off of his shoulder and threw me onto the bed.
I saw the pain in his eyes as he looked at me.

“Just to be clear—” He started.

“I want this.”

“You don’t know that, Grace.” He whispered.

“Believe me, I do.”

He couldn’t look at me as he pushed down his jeans, followed
by his boxer briefs, allowing himself to spring to life. It was fascinating,
and I’m sure my eyes looked as though they were bulging out of their sockets. I
had done that. The thought of me had made his body react in that way. I knew it
wasn’t that big of a deal, but in that moment, it made me feel so sexy.

Ryan took two steps toward the bed and grabbed the sides of
my panties, tearing them from my body. I saw his chest rise, as his obvious
excitement pushed on, despite his disapproval of my situation. He wanted me. I
just needed him to stop acting as if this was a chore.

“Stop.”

“Shit, Grace. What are you trying to do to me?”

“Come here.” I was stern, unwavering.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Ryan, get the fuck over here.”

He straightened at my demand, and inched his way closer to
the bed, curious of my intentions. I sat up to my knees and grabbed his
powerful shoulders in my delicate hands. I may not be strong, but I have
control. I used all the force I could muster to twist his body and push him
down onto the bed. His abdominals tensed, attempting to recoil from my attack,
but I used my knee to hold down his chest. He tried to hide it, but I saw a
smile flash across his face. I grabbed him in my hand, feeling his thickness,
and imagining what it would feel like filling me. I squeezed. This was fun,
arousing. I could be good at this. I lowered my mouth to him, aiming to make
our next venture easier to slide into. He gasped as my mouth hit his erection,
but I wasn’t stopping to make sure that he was all right. I had taken control
of this night. Sorry, Ryan.

I swirled my tongue, allowing the cooling air to counteract
my hot breath. My hand softly twisted and pulled as I came up for breath. His
chest was rising quite shallow under the weight of my knee, and I knew I was
affecting him. Little me, untrained Grace Brennan, was performing magic.

I released him from my hold, and swung my other leg over,
straddling my victory. I continued to hold him in my hand, readying myself.
Ryan opened his eyes, realizing what was about to happen. Our sights connected,
and I panicked. I had no idea what I was doing. Was this going to hurt? What if
I couldn’t move?

“Grace.”

“No. I got this.”

“Grace.”

“Stop saying my name, dammit!”

Ryan laughed, and sat up, meeting my line of sight. “Let
me.”

What did that mean? Oh my God, what did that mean?

In an instant, he had flipped me on my back, and was
hovering over me. He lightly kissed my lips, lingering longer than he meant to.
His hands grazed my arms, sending chills up my spine. His fingers trailed down
my stomach, and I sucked in. He chuckled as the tips of his fingers pressed
into my lower abdomen.

“Does this feel okay?”

“Yes?” I had no idea what he was doing.

He replaced his fingertips with the heel of his hand and
pressed down even harder, tipping my pelvis toward him.

“How about this?”

It was an interesting sensation. Not bad, not what I had
expected, but startling.

“It’s fine.”

“Good. We’ll save that for later.”

What? What was I missing?

He held his finger up in suggestion. “Have you ever?”

Well this was even more embarrassing. I shook my head, my
innocent, overwhelmed mind preparing itself for what was about to happen.

“Shit Grace, where have you been?”

He dropped his hand out of view and his fingers danced
lower, teasing me with each passing hint of ecstasy. I felt open, comfortable.
Then my thoughts were thrown as he instantly found my warmth. I couldn’t help
the noise that sprang from my mouth, and Ryan smiled in reply. He slowly slid
his finger up and down, making his way deeper with each push. The sensation
turned from anxiety to pleasure and I met each push with a thrust of my own. He
leaned further over me, begging for our eyes to meet. He continued to nod, offering
an out if I needed so. I didn’t. This feeling was excruciating and exhilarating
all at the same time. My breaths became moans and welcomed the expansion of
another digit. I smiled at him, and his returned pleasure reminded me that he
was a man. He was a man, and I was a woman, and this was what we were meant to
do.

“You ready?”

Was I? I wasn’t about to have him storming off again, nor
did I want this ecstasy to end. “Yes.”

I was.

He pulled his fingers to freedom, leaving me wanting, and
repositioned directly on top of me. His knees spread mine, and our lips met
before he pushed into me.

I screamed. I couldn’t help it. I could never have imagined
such a rush of emotions mixed with such physical pleasure. He was slow at
first, his face seeming pained with his need to take more. But little by
little, he took as much as he had wanted. He took it all. He gave his weight to
one arm, and placed the heel of his hand at the top of my pelvis. It must have
been ‘later’. He thrust his body into me as he pushed his weight into my
stomach. My moans became audible, as this was a brand new feeling. There was
something hidden inside that he had found. And he continued to find it. I
wanted more. How could I get more? What more was there to be had?

Moans became screams as he rose to his knees, bringing my
hips along for the ride. He grabbed hold of my hips and pushed, his face
finding both pleasure and power. He released his one hand and spread it across
my belly, finding my apex with his thumb. He nudged it slightly, teasing with
each thrust. Then, with a smile on his face, he pressed down, forcing me to
bite the pillow next to me. He didn’t let go. Three more hard drives, and my
body became limp. He collapsed on top of me, stealing quick kisses. And I
gladly gave them to him. In that moment, I wanted to give him
everything.   

I make it a point to not get emotionally attached to a
woman. I saw how my mother leaving affected my Pops. I see the guys when we’re
out on the road. They check in with their ol’ ladies. They wish their kids
goodnight. But how good can you be at your job when you’re worried that any
mistake could leave your children fatherless?

Plus, women talk. They talk, and they are constantly
touching you; they worry, and they expect you to worry. I don’t need that shit
in my life. I look out for me. I don’t need to be worrying that I can’t always
be around to protect someone else. God, it’s like a fucking fairy tale. I’m no
knight in shining armor. How can someone expect that from another person?

And now I will always be Grace’s first. She won’t forget
that. I took away her purity. What the hell is wrong with me? And why do I care
so much? Why couldn’t I take a step down that staircase earlier? Why was I
drawn back in to finish what we had started, and now why can’t I leave her
while she’s sleeping? I wanted to punch something. Why did everything in this
apartment look like it was so damn breakable?

I sat up, preparing myself to find my way out. I peeked
down, hoping she hadn’t stirred. Her soft skin glowed in the moonlight. She was
so peaceful. No wonder I thought she looked untouched, she truly was. But not
anymore—I had touched her. I had touched her, and now I was about to leave her.
I wasn’t planning on asking for her phone number, or even giving her mine. I
wasn’t planning on it, but I wanted to. I wanted her to want to see me again. I
wanted to be desired by her. My hand grazed her back, shooting needles up my
arm. I wanted to be inside of her again. It was unlike anything I had ever
imagined.

The desire I felt for her in that instant was mirrored by
the frustration she caused me. I was angry with Grace. I didn’t want to be her
first. I have never wanted that responsibility. Even my first, at thirteen, was
a broad my Pops hired to ‘get it over with’. Since then, it’s been nothing but
recycled girls just holding out for one more day with the club. Yet, I couldn’t
walk away. I had hidden behind a bush and chased her into a bar. How was I
supposed to walk away from that?

Her innocence was enlightening, and I found myself wanting
to be better, to be more. I wanted to be more than her lover. I wanted her to
be proud of me. What kind of a crock of shit is that? And for that, I knew I
couldn’t see her anymore. Yet, I wanted to say goodbye. I wanted her to tell me
not to go. I didn’t realize how fucked up I was until now.

I rolled out of the bed, hoping not to disturb her, but
honestly wanting her to wake up at my absence. Nothing. I found my jeans, and
slid them over my bare legs. I figured I’d leave my boxers; give her a little
memento of our time together. I made my way to the door when I heard her speak.

“Hey.” She whispered. Her eyes were only half open, but her
peaceful smile called to me.

I couldn’t control myself. I sprang back to her side, pushing
soft wisps of red hair behind her ears and gently kissing her lips.

“Hey, I was just…”

“Leaving forever?”

It was so matter of fact that it was painful.

“I was going to leave a number.”

“Don’t lie to me, Ryan.” She was dazed and half asleep, but
she saw right through me. I couldn’t reply. “Well, maybe I’ll run into you
again. Do you live in the neighborhood?”

I shook my head. “No. I live in Southwest Philly.”

She giggled, probably out of delirium. “I’m not allowed
there, so,” her hand cradled my cheek, “I guess this is it.”

What the hell was wrong with her? Be a fucking girl. Cry a
little. Beg me to call you.

“Not allowed?”

“Father’s orders.”

“Fuck him. It’s not that bad.”

“For me it is.”
Why was I fighting her? This should have been what I wanted: a clean break.

I traced the outline of her cheek with my finger. “Okay, one
day when you’re not so delirious, you’ll have to explain all this to me.”

“But we’re not seeing each other anymore. Did you miss that
whole part?”

I stood up. She was pissing me off. “Shit Grace, stop being
so okay with this. Just give me your number.”

“No. I’m not going to give you my number so you can pretend
you’re going to call me.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being practical.”

“So you’re not giving me your number?”

“No.”

“Fine.” I wanted to stop there. I wanted to move on with my
life, but my blood was boiling. “Then I’ll find you.”

I grabbed her face between my hands and forcefully kissed
her. I wanted her to know I was not done. I wanted her to know that I was
claiming her, that she was now mine. I wouldn’t let her high and mighty
feminist shit get in the way of what I wanted.

I pushed off of the bed and fled to the door.

“Ryan…”

I wanted to ignore her, but her voice pulled me back.

“What?”

“Thank you.”

I shook my head and left her apartment. And that’s why I
make it a point to not get emotionally attached to a woman. I needed that
ten-mile walk after my night with Grace.