Hold Me Close(15)

“Please,” Effie said again. “Heath.”

A low noise like a growl rumbled out of him. He slid out of her almost entirely, then back in. So slow, but not gentle. Sweat dripped from his face onto hers and she licked it away, drowning in the taste of him.

He f*cked her that way forever. Each thrust began to sting. She couldn’t come again, it was impossible, but the pain was a pleasure of its own and she rode it the way she’d done the string of earlier climaxes.

Heath drew a series of ragged breaths. His hair fell in front of his eyes as he ducked his head. His arms had begun to shake, but he didn’t lower himself onto her. He f*cked harder, desperately. Frustration twisted his expression. Finally, he stopped, pushing upward again on his hands. He shook his head, but when he tried to pull out of her, Effie hooked her heels behind his calves and kept him close.

When she slapped him lightly across the face, Heath shuddered. The next time, she did it harder. His gaze flashed. Angry, but also that other thing, that dark thing that never went away between them. So she did it again, and this time he let out a low shout that got lost inside her mouth as he dived to kiss her. It was brutal, a clash of teeth and slash of tongue. She raked his chest with her nails, and he took her lower lip between his teeth. Then her tongue, biting.

They moved together, rolling, until she was on top. His hands gripped her hips. He thrust upward hard enough to knock her forward, her hands flat on his chest. She kissed him, not kind or sweet or loving. They made war and love at the same time until at last he pounded his cock deep inside her again, crying out. Then he went still.

Breathing hard, Effie uncurled her fingers. She smoothed the crescents her nails had left in his skin and bent to kiss the marks. A few of them overlaid the faint bruises from the last time they’d been together. One or two of them had bled and she took some extra time to soothe them. Then she rolled off him and onto her back beside him.

Heath was silent for a while before he turned onto his side, away from her. Effie had been staring up at the ceiling, cataloging the aches and pains of the aftermath. She waited a second or so before turning to spoon him from behind. Her face pressed the warmth between his shoulder blades.

“You stink,” she told him. “You need a shower.”

Heath didn’t move. He found her hand and tucked it against his chest. Effie nestled her crotch to his ass and breathed him in. She licked his skin. Tangy. She closed her eyes. They would sleep this way, if she wasn’t careful. Tonight she wasn’t sure if she cared.

“Are you going to see him again?”

He meant Mitchell, but he could’ve meant Bill. It didn’t matter. She didn’t need to think before she answered. “Yes. If he asks.”

“Will you tell him about me?”

There was so much about Heath to tell, how could she begin to answer that? Effie nipped his shoulder blade instead of a reply. Heath rolled to face her.

“Will you?”

“No.”

“Nothing? Not a word?”

She smiled. “It’s not any of his business, is it?”

“Is he one of your fans?”

At that, she frowned and sat up. “That’s not fair, Heath. You know I don’t f*ck around with them.”

“So, how did you meet him, then?”

“LuvFinder.” Effie laughed, embarrassed suddenly in a way she hadn’t been before. “I thought I’d try it.”

Heath snorted. “Better than trolling for dates at bars and insurance conventions, I guess.”

She pinched his nipple hard, until he swatted her hand away. “Shut up.”

“So,” Heath said quietly, “you’re looking for love this time?”

“Isn’t everyone?” She said it nonchalantly, but she knew this admission changed everything. Until recently, she’d only been exploring. Considering her options. Having fun. But lately she had to admit that she was searching for something more—something real. She wasn’t sure she could find it with anyone but Heath, but she’d be damned if it wasn’t worth trying.

“Not everyone,” Heath said. “Some of us have already found all we ever want.”

He ran a fingertip over her cheek then, and along her jaw. He finished by tracing her lips. When she opened them as though to bite him, he didn’t pull away, so she kissed it instead. Then she took his hand and turned it over so she could press a kiss to the inside of his wrist and the scars there.


“I just want something normal,” Effie whispered. A confession. It felt good to say it loud, like prying the last tiny piece of a splinter that had been festering beneath her flesh. “Is that so much to ask for? To be the same as everyone else?”

At that, Heath sat up and got out of bed. With his back to her, he said, “Effie, don’t you know that in a million years you could never be the same as anyone else?”

She watched him gather his clothes and leave her room. She waited until she heard the back door close. Then she went, naked, into the kitchen to lock it.





chapter eight

“My mother says I’m not allowed to see you anymore.” The words come easier than Effie had thought they would. She’d practiced them in front of the mirror at home for an hour, every time stuttering, but now they sound as casual as if she were asking Heath about the weather. “She says it’s not healthy for us.”