Come to Me Quietly(57)

But how the hell could I say no? I mean, I’d tried to refuse, to come up with an acceptable excuse to convince Christopher that this was a bad idea. But he was insistent.

And the truth was, I f*cking missed her. So much it’d become this crushing weight on my chest and an overbearing burden on my shoulders.

Nothing was ever right. But being without her just felt wrong.

The two weeks I’d spent hidden away behind her door had been the best two of my life. I’d almost felt as if I belonged.

Almost.

That was the problem, really. I’d gotten too comfortable, had felt too at ease, had allowed too many unwise words to pass from my mouth.

Worse was I’d gotten too used to how unbelievably good she felt lying next to me.

I’d come to want it. Need it. And it was wrong. It was insanity and stupidity all wrapped into one, selfishness in the extreme. But I wanted her. God, I wanted her. So badly that I’d ignored my conscience and snuck into her room night after night, dipped into her comfort, and taken from the girl who was so good and kind. Aly had welcomed me into her bed as if that was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Like she trusted me.

I wondered what she’d think if she could crawl inside the darkened corners of my mind, if she could witness the fantasies of her that I kept hidden there. If she could see how depraved I really was. How could I lie there beside her and pretend I was just her friend, while I listened to the throaty lilt of her thick laughter and imagined what it’d be like to have her laid out, taking it all? Burying myself in her – her flesh and sweat and sweet and every ounce of pleasure I knew I’d find in the tenderness of her touch. I’d gone so far as to imagine the exact way her lips would part and the expression that would hood her intense green eyes.

I shook my head to chase off the visions invading my mind.

I will destroy her.

My eyes traveled the yard, washing over the groups of friends swarming the space. Water sloshed up from the pool, swelled, and spilled over the side from the movement of the bodies that sought a retreat from the heat. Everyone wore bathing suits or shorts and flip-flops, and here I sat in my jeans and boots.

Not that I cared what anyone thought about me. Christopher had introduced me to most everyone, toting me around the yard as he sang my praises. The guy was cool, that much was for sure. He might have his own issues, but he definitely had my back. Most of the people there looked at me with indifference or mild interest. A few girls had approached me in the last hour I’d been sitting here by myself. But none of them were the reason I was subjecting myself to this abuse.

I found her under the shade of a tree. She was in the same clothes she’d been in the night I’d first seen her, a red tank top with the green straps of her bikini peeking out and wrapping around her neck, the bottoms covered in little white shorts. The girl was perfection personified. Every inch. Every curve. She was laughing and talking with Megan, one of the friends she’d introduced me to earlier.

I searched Aly’s face. A casual easiness had taken her over as she enjoyed the setting sun. Maybe that’s what attracted me to her most, the fact that she was genuine, lacking all the superficial bullshit so many of the girls crawling the backyard seemed to have. But she was also fun, easy to smile. Not to mention she was undoubtedly the sexiest girl I’d ever seen.

She tipped her head back as she laughed, exposing her creamy neck. Dark hair toppled over one luscious bare shoulder and rolled down her back.

Lust curled through my stomach and tightened in the pits of my consciousness.

God.

I dropped my eyes to the dirt under my booted feet.