One Night

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Chapter 11

When I returned to the living room with a cup of coffee, Liam was sitting on the loveseat, glaring at the carpet, while Wayne managed to lift himself up on his elbows and give me a triumphant grin. “I won.”

Ignoring him until I put the coffee in front of him, I put myself next to him and narrowed my eyes at him. “How did you find my address?”

“Not telling,” he grinned, voice a little slurred.

I pointed at the coffee. “Drink.”

He did say anything as he picked up the cup and sipped it, now sitting normally. He shuddered then. “Ah,” he murmured, “the taste of victory.”

Rolling my eyes, I looked at Liam. He was busy to both glare at me and text in his phone. “So what are you actually doing here?”

“Told you,” Liam said monotonously, “he wanted to see you for unfathomable reason.”

“Aw, pudding,” I smirked at him, “didn’t know you thought of me like that.”

He glowered. “I don’t like you. And stop calling my pudding.”

“But you’re a pudding,” my smirk deepened. It was just so easy to tease him. “You’re a deliciously tanned pudding waiting for me to take a bite.”

Suddenly a strong arm was wrapped around my waist and I was removed from my seat and sitting on Wayne’s lap. I whipped my head to him, eyes wide with disbelief. “What the fuck?”

He didn’t answer but made himself cozy so I was placed right where he wanted me to be and his head was buried in my neck. I could feel his breaths on my skin. I grew rigid, because that was not cool – I’d explicitly told him we were not going to be intimate again yet he did that – but he didn’t seem to care as his hand squeezed my thigh.

This time, Liam couldn’t seem to take his eye off us. “I seriously do not understand what he sees in you,” he told me with enough amount of honesty that I wouldn’t question what he’d just said.

I shrugged. “I have no idea, either.” And it was the truth, too.

Wayne squeezed me again. “I can hear you both, you know.” He glanced at me, eyes luminously silver. “And I think I made my intentions clear.”

Arching my eyebrow, I flung out of his lap with speed he didn’t see coming, which was the only reason I managed to evade his groping arms. Folding my arms, I said, “Your intentions are not my intentions. Besides, I don’t believe in insta-love.”

“Who said I’m in love with you?” he gave me a lazy grin. “I just want you to be my fuck buddy.”

I threw my arms up in annoyance. “And I don’t want to be fucked by you again. How many times do I have to say this before you understand?”

Liam stood up, drawing my attention to him. “I don’t think I need to be here for this discussion,” he murmured, eyes landing on Wayne.

As Wayne nodded I scowled and strode towards him. Before he could turn around I snatched his hand and gave him my best look of intimidating determination. “Don’t go,” I ordered, voice fierce.

He scowled. “Why? It’s obvious you’re in the middle of a lover quarrel.”

“It’s not a love quarrel,” I gritted my teeth, “it’s nothing, and it won’t keep to be nothing if you don’t stay. So please stay.”

His eyes were confused as he tried to read me. He didn’t get it. He didn’t fucking get it. He didn’t just remind me of pudding, but he had the brain of one. If Liam left, Wayne would pounce me. And I was not sure I would be able to keep turning him down again. Yet I didn’t want to have sex with him for several reasons, and doing it would be stupid of me.

I was not stupid.

Whatever Liam saw in my eyes made him tense, but he finally, for my utter relief, nodded. He retook his spot on the loveseat and I took the only empty space still next to Wayne. I tried to mold myself into the sofa’s other end, and Wayne simply gave me an irritated look. “Bad man,” I said with a snort, “you’re not getting some, more so in your current drunk state.”

He shrugged. “There’s always Rosalyn.”

I snorted again. “Good luck with that.”

“Rosalyn is not that bad,” Liam said, giving me an accusing look. “She’s just very excited about everything.”

So innocent, pudding was. “You think I’m a bitch, you haven’t met her,” I informed them, “she’s not just a bitch, but a major bitch.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Liam shook his head, refusing to believe.

Shrugging, I said, “If you want to tap that, I’m the last person to stop you.”

Liam scowled. “Not everything is about sex, you know. I don’t want to ‘tap’ her. I just want to get to know her. Like everyone else from the dancing lesson.”

“Except me,” I noted, cocking my head. “Why is that?”

He seemed taken aback by my question, but to my surprise, Wayne straightened and gave me an inscrutable look. How he managed to pull off one while tipsy, I had no idea. “Ford has told us about you before we met again. Back then I didn’t know he was talking about you, but the story did sound familiar.”

I raised my hand, feeling a sudden numbness in my chest. “Say no more,” I said, “I get it now.”

What Ford told them was probably along these line; “Be careful of Blair Sheridan, Emma’s sister. She’s the black sheep of the Sheridan-Howard family. She might look pretty and innocent, she’s a devil in disguise. Did you know that her ex two-timed her because she was too unfeeling and had sociopath tendencies? He told me after the break up that she never smiled like a girl is supposed to smile, that every time they had sex, it was like fucking a robot, that whenever she said she loved him, it was obvious she never meant it. He only stayed with her because of her heritage and genes that matched to what his own parents thought suited him. So you see, this girl has a heart of icy stone. Stay away from her, as far as possible. She’s not good for anyone in this world. No one.”

Liam gave me a curious look after that. “I get what Ford said now. You really do have no feelings.”

I was spot on. Of course I was. I heard Roman giving this speech to all the boys I ever dated in the past two years. They weren’t much; only three that I managed to somehow like. Roman found each one of them after a few dates and warned them off. All boys were cowed. No one stuck up with me.

It hadn’t hurt back then and it didn’t hurt now. Because while my family was the worst one could have, it was also right; something was wrong with me. Fundamentally wrong, that is.

Wayne rose from his seat. “Liam,” he said to his friend, “go home. I need to talk to Blair.”

Liam glanced at me, but I was too focused on the numbness in my mind that I didn’t return the look. Shrugging, he rose too and said, “See you tomorrow. Don’t forget to bring your sneakers.”

Once Liam was out, Wayne sat himself next to me again and before I could protest pulled me into a hug. “You’re not a sociopath, Cleo,” he murmured into my hair, his hand soothing my back up and down, “you were never taught how to truly feel, that’s all.”

I blinked. “I have no idea what that even means.”

“It means,” he said, leaning back so he could cup my cheeks and lock my eyes in his, “that you’ve never felt anything to a great extent. Maybe anger or rage, but that is all. You remember when we were together?” he didn’t grin, didn’t make any smug face when he said it. Instead he looked serious, his eyes intense. I stilled. “When we had sex, you were like molten heat under my hands. You felt pleasure for the first time in your life. You cried out. You were an ultimate sweet woman anyone would’ve loved to fuck right then.”

I found my words then. “Pleasure and anger are extremes,” I told him. “I can feel extreme emotions. But the in between is the problem.” And I had no idea why I was telling him that.

He leaned closer. “I’m willing to help you, Cleo. Blair,” his blinding intensity suddenly registered in my brain when he said my true name, and I tensed, overwhelmed by it. “I’ll have sex with you for a full night until you feel so much pleasure you’ll cry. When we’re not having sex, I’ll take you to places, show you the world, make you understand your own mind and emotions. I can help you change your life just like I hope I helped two years ago. Only this time it wouldn’t be just one night.” His eyes turned such a bright silver I simply stared. “This would be for as long as you need me.”

Blinking rapidly then, I blurted, “Why?”

He understood. “Because,” he caressed the nape of my neck, “I simply want to.”

I scowled. “That’s not an answer.”

“Give me these two months until Ford and Emma’s wedding,” he said, “when the time is up, I’ll tell you everything you want to know about me and my decisions.”

When I looked at him then, I saw he was dead serious. Not just serious but intent about it all. He didn’t show any conceit or malice regarding the subject, only genuine determination. Was it possible that Holden Knight was truly on my side? That didn’t sound like reality there and then.

But his eyes were intense, swallowing me whole. He wanted this and not just for the perks of getting to screw me, but because he believed he could help. He believed he could change me. I was twenty-four, already a fully fledged woman, and he believed he could still change me for the better. He believed I was not the unemotional woman everyone thought me to be.

If I gave him this chance, it might be for the best. I owed it to myself, after all. Maybe he could save me. Sometimes you needed to plunge into the unknown to find out your answer.

“I’m going to put my trust in you,” I said, as serious as he was then, “I’m going to trust you with my body and with my thoughts and mind. If you betray that trust, I’ll kill you.”

He gave me a small grin. “Deal.”

“Well then,” I said, looking him directly in the eye as I put my hands on his shoulders. “Change me, if you think you can.”

He didn’t wait to be told twice. Gripping the hem of my shirt, he took it off from me and threw it on the ground. He then unclasped my bra, revealing my breasts. He didn’t touch me yet, however; he moved on to my shorts, almost ripping them off along with my panties. Once I was fully naked, he took his own clothes off, uncovering his own roped body that made me almost drool. My memory hadn’t done his pecs justice.

As we were naked before of each other, Wayne took my face in his palms and kissed me. Sparks ignited in the pit of my stomach at the impact, and I felt my breasts swelling, shiver dancing across my skin. I put my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss myself. When his tongue snaked inside, I let it wrap happily around my own, claiming me in an infinitely intimate way.

I’d forgotten another thing; how I came to life when Wayne touched me. Two years ago it happened. Now it did again. It was like my body woke up from a deep slumber, wanting to stretch and play and bend to his hands’ whims. It felt like breathing, like choking, like everything and nothing at once. It was oblivion, and I’d been unconsciously seeking this for so long just to get a glimpse again.

But I didn’t get a glimpse now. I got a full-on show.

He lay me down on my back on the sofa, putting his heavy, ripped body between my legs. I wrapped them around his waist and let his lips move from mine to my jaw and neck, suckling and nipping and licking and making me gasp with urgency. My hands were in his hair, tugging, needing more, needing all the oblivion I could take.

Not one to disappoint, he lowered his head farther to my breasts, kneading one with a skilled hand, while pulling the other into his mouth. I shuddered, the sensations turning my blood hot and cold and making sweat trickle down every part of my skin. When he was nowhere near done with my breasts, he still moved on to my abdomen, licking his way to my entrance. He felt the urgency, felt it in me too, and he was not one to move slowly. I was more than grateful for that.

Reaching my clit, he took it roughly into his mouth and nipped it. I moaned then, unable to stifle the sound inside, and began thrashing with rising orgasm when he teased me to no end. He then inserted two fingers inside me, pumping in and out and making me create a small pool on the sofa’s cushion. Realizing I was near the edge, he drew his fingers out and straightened up.

When he penetrated me with one powerful shove, my back bowed, and I tried to hold on to his shoulders when my stomach was filled with knots, when everything in me begged for him to make me ride to the void with him. He let out a sound similar to growl before he snatched my wrists in his hands and clasped them to the sofa, making me completely bare to him. He growled again and began to move.

My eyes rolled when he thrusted in and out so fast and rough I didn’t even have time to catch my breath. He didn’t go easy on me, and neither did I want him to. He simply gave everything he had, and I took it all greedily, not wanting him to ever stop.

The orgasm hit me hard when I felt him growing bigger inside me, his erection stiff and long and thick. I cried out, my back bowing again, and then without warning he flipped me onto my stomach like I was weighting no more than a rag doll. Gasping, I tried to get to my hands but then he shoved inside again and I lost my balance. I was still spasming when he continued to ride me hard and deep, and I grabbed the cushion with my nails, biting my lip so hard I could feel a bruise.

He didn’t slow down; he only went on faster and faster withing the moments. I tried to meet him with my hips, but it was impossible; I was still overflowing with euphoria, and his hands were now holding my butt in a steely grip, not letting me to move any farther. When he was sure I stayed his place, he reached beneath my body and grabbed my breasts, pinching the pebbled nipples and taunting me into a new rush of sparks and knots. He plunged deeper, stronger, and I moaned again, trying to grasp some air to no avail, and when one of his hands moved to knead my clit, it was over.

I came again, and a moment later he groaned, shoving one last time deep inside me, before he came too, his cock still buried so deep, I felt him spilling everything inside. Shuddering, he pressed his front to my back, and all we could do was gasp, trying to breath.

It took us about five minutes to finally calm down and then he pulled out of me and sat back. Powerlessly I rose too, plopping myself on my butt and sitting too, still sweaty but at least no longer breathless. I then looked at him and saw him staring at me too. “You didn’t use a condom, did you?” I asked, even though I knew, I felt, the answer.

He shoved a hand through his hair and sighed. “No,” he said, “I was too into it to remember.”

“You clean, though?” I asked, which was a little moot. Even if he wasn’t, he’d still come inside of me.

“Yeah, you?”

Nodding in confirmation, I sighed. “Don’t worry about pills either,” I told him, “I can’t get pregnant anyway.”

He gave me an odd look before his expression shut down. He didn’t ask me why or how, and I didn’t divulge the information too. There were some things better be left unsaid.

Sighing again, I leaned back on the sofa and stared at the roof. The oblivion I felt disappeared as fast as it came, and now I had my head back from the clouds. “You promised to change me,” I said without looking at him, “but what does it mean, really? You want me to fall in love with you or something like that?”

“I wouldn’t mind if you do,” he said with enough honesty for me to believe him, “but I don’t think you will.”

“Because I’m still emotionless?”

“No,” he replied, voice somewhat grave, “because to love, you need to throw yourself over a cliff, and while I think you’re wild enough to do that if you’re dared to, I don’t think you’ll willingly do it on your own.”

Wayne was perceptive. And he was right.

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