Layers(54)

“At a point when my mom was dying of cancer. He left us when she couldn’t even walk by herself.” His expression is disgusted. “With less than a couple thousand in the bank to live off, and no one to take care of us.”

I don’t know what to say so I just hug him, pulling him closer, wishing with all my power to hug away all the pain he exudes. I process this new information about his past—abandoning father, mother fighting a deadly disease—and my heart goes out to him. I have so many questions I want to ask. How old was he? Did his mother get cured, and how? Was his past the reason he started the oncological laboratories research benefit? But I refrain from imposing on him further. It seems as though he’s done talking.

My insides melt at the glimpse of this vulnerable side of him. I hold his face by his temples and lean in to kiss him; he takes the lead enthusiastically, invading my mouth, as though conquering it. Dismissively he shoves the half empty dish away and in the same breath pulls me closer, my legs spread wider as my body is drawn to his. His kisses are so forceful I feel a pulse in my lips and know they will be swollen later on, but I don’t really care and let myself be carried away into his dynamic, crazed pace. Let it all go D, bury yourself in me, with me.

I am so turned on by his forceful, carnal desire, my emotions are at their highest peak. His hands are peeling off every piece of clothing that separates his touch from my skin. I’m afraid something will end up ripped as he unleashes his hunger. I help him pull his tee over his head, unwillingly letting go of his entrancing mouth. I try to kiss his neck, but he pushes me onto the counter so I’m lying on the cold surface. He clearly has only one aim in mind now and it’s to have me. He grips my thighs and quickly pulls me toward him. I slide on the marble surface, charged with want, concern and empathy. Abruptly he pulls up my skirt and I hear a faint rip. Judging by the burn on my left hip, I realize that my thong has been ripped off. His brutality makes my every cord call for him. I want him now with an alarming urgency. The warning sirens in my head are silenced by my want.

I can’t help a cry of welcome pain as he pushes his way hurriedly to the very deep of me; I quiver from the feeling as my heart and breathing race to some undefined end point. He lashes with anger and pain in, out and against me with every thrust, and I build up, rapidly build up from his sweet, painful assault of my body. His final gasp is my release. I am left breathless and trembling. The afterglow doesn’t leave; it comes in waves of sweet shivers as one heavily breathing, exhausted and released boy—man is laying on top of me. I run my fingers through the silky strands of his golden hair as I try to calm down, hoping I won’t have any marks on me from his forceful grip and roughness. And here it is, I think to myself. A new, sensitive, hurt layer of personality has unfolded itself before me and in me.

~~~

“A movie?” He lifts his handsome face to look at me.

“I choose this time.” I smirk at him. Father matters swept under the rug by a vigorous encounter of the flesh.

After clearing the remains of our dinner, I try to make amends with my now wrinkled, disheveled clothes, disposing discreetly of my ruined underwear. Daniel grabs a bottle of chilled white wine from the wine cooler. Taking my hand, he leads us both to the cinema room.

“And the choice for the evening, mademoiselle?”

His adorable playful smile is on, hazel eyes lit up. He’s back.

“Any chance you’ve got Terms of Endearment here?”

“I’m pretty sure I do,” he says, pensive, half to me, half to himself. “I’ve heard that title a lot. I think it’s one of my mom’s favorites or something.”

“It is my all-time favorite.” I grin and am answered with a luscious kiss.

“What is it about?” he asks, fumbling with the remote.

“An emotionally intense relationship between a mother and her daughter over the years.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sounds promising, can’t wait,” sarcasm bursting from his hoarse voice.

“The things I do for you, Hales,” he murmurs and I grin, utterly ecstatic. Oh, the things I’d do for you. You’ll be surprised, D. And his recent rough treatment pops to my mind.

The lights dim as the screen illuminates and I find myself thrilled to watch this movie with him. He takes a swig of the chilled wine and hands me the sweating bottle. I replicate him. Curled up in my indulgent sofa, pleased to see Shirley MacLaine’s manic character seizing the screen, I take Daniel’s hand, lacing my fingers with his, and am greeted by a heart-tottering smile.

I take a sip of the wine that has warmed by now, my eyes glossy with unshed tears while my throat threatens to release them. This’ll be the twentieth time I’ve watched this old film and I still hope that perhaps this time the daughter won’t get sick.

“Hales, I’ll be bleeding soon,” Daniel whispers, nodding at the bite of my fingernails into his innocent hand.

“Sorry,” I murmur, gluing my eyes back to the screen. I think that from the corner of my eyes I see a smile.

Not a minute passes before I hear Daniel announce, “For f**k’s sake.” I glance over at him, curious but disinclined to leave the drama that has just reached its peak on the screen.




“Just hop over and straddle me!”

My eyes expand in awe and I can’t help laughing at his blunt request.