Chapter 3: Need
Note: Thanks for all the continued support. I’ve made this one an extra long chapter because I’ve been slow over the Christmas break. Things are starting to take a turn in this chapter. Make sure to let me know what you think. Next chapter will bring more actual sexy-stuff so stay tuned.
————
My day gets worse. I’m suspended again for two days this time. The Principal wasn’t able to get onto Kate, which has hopefully bought me enough time to tell her before the school gets onto her.
When the school day ends I have to trudge down to the Police station. Both Will and Kate are working tonight, which means I can’t go home.
Because my life is like some kind of tragedy/drama, it starts pouring rain as soon as I leave the school. I can barely see in front of me – the blue of the fluorescent light is the only thing that tells me I’m at Kate’s work. I push through the front door, and shut it quickly behind me. Like a switch has been flipped, the loud noise of the rain is muffled and I can hear myself think properly.
“Lucy,” Nancy the night receptionist comes out from behind the reception desk, “Jesus, you look like you’ve been swimming in the river. Come in, come in.”
She ushers me into the back room of the precinct, past all of the cops’ desks and into their staff room.
I know I look like a drowned rat, because Samuel, one of the cops I pass in the hallway, turns around and exclaims, “Lucy, you look like a drowned rat.”
Nancy sits me down on the large couch in the break room. I’ve been in here more times then I can count – I’ve spent numerous evenings waiting for Kate to finish work so that we can go back home.
In the last 5 years she’s been working at the station, it hasn’t changed. It smells like coffee and meat pies. The couch is comfy but definitely needs to be replaced. There are so many stains on this thing, it’s gross. But beggars can’t be choosers, it’s either this or the floor, and god only knows the last time that was mopped properly.
Nancy brings me a towel and an oversized gym shirt and socks – The shirt is giant, blue and I realise it’s one of the standard regulation tops for the officers to wear when training. I want to say thank you but I can’t even open my mouth. The moment I try, my teeth start chattering.
“Get changed in the bathroom, Darl,” Nancy says kindly, placing a tentative hand on my shoulder, “I’ll make you a cuppa.”
I manage to grab the items and get myself into the staff toilets. I try to unbutton my uniform but it’s difficult on account of the fact that my fingers are cold and numb. I bring them to my mouth to try and breathe heat back to them, and it kind of works, enabling me to get out of the sopping wet uniform.
I towel myself as much as a can, and put on the shirt and socks. I realise I’m so wet that the water’s soaked my underwear and bra. But it doesn’t matter. I’m as dry as I’m going to get. I wrap the wet uniform and shoes in the towel. Not sure where to stash it, I end up putting it underneath the lounge out of the way.
I manage to settle back on the lounge. I want to kiss Nancy, she’s left me a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits.
Nancy, you legend.
I’m quite a bit warmer now. The heating is on full-blast and I’m mostly dry – I can feel the heat coming back to my toes, which is a sweet relief. For a moment there I though I was going to lose them to either water-logging or frost bite. It could be the drama talking though, because after the day I’ve had I can only seem to think in hyperbole.
I busy myself with the biscuits and tea. there’s something about this process that comforts me- which is a pleasant welcome.
“Lucrezia,” I look up and of course it’s Will.
Only Will uses my full name. He knows it annoys me, but for some reason, despite my continuous objections he insists on calling me it. Although I can’t be bothered to argue today.
“Hi,” I guess I can open my mouth after all.
“What happened to you?”
“Caught in the rain,” I reply, trying to focus back on the warm tea in my hands.
I feel shy all of a sudden with Will. I’m not exactly sure why, but it’s possibly something to do with the fact that ever since last Thursday I’ve felt uneasy around him. It’s not like anything happened, more that…I kind of wanted it to?
I don’t know. I should feel worse about this than I do because I’m fairly sure Kate likes Will. Also I have no business having a big-ass crush on my older sister’s work mate. Besides, thirty-five year olds don’t date eighteen year olds. That’s a little bit too close to squick-factor – I’m almost half his age.
But you don’t care, do you? Lucy, you really are a slut.
I focus back on my tea, trying to ignore the weird canyon of silence between us, and Will busies himself making coffee. I wonder if the canyon is in my head, and realise it probably is. Will acts like he always does, aloof, blank faced and the perfect statue, carved of marble. It never wavers, and it never falters. Except for maybe Thursday where for a whole fifteen seconds Will was kind of flirtatious. Although, that could be in my head.
The guy barely has a mouth twitch and you think he’s flirting with you? Lucy you’re desperate AND a slut.
“I wasn’t talking about that,” Will suddenly says, turning to lean against the bench, cup of coffee in hand. He’s put a surprising amount of sugar in it. I’d thought of him as the bitter, dark coffee loving type. Not the ‘three-heaped spoons of sugar in my coffee’ type, “I was talking about the bruise on your arm.”
Right, the bruise, the hand shaped bruise where Micah grabbed me when he tried to make me give him a blowjob behind the Block D. That bruise.
“That’s a lot of sugar in there,” I smile, I push it all the way up my face, like Tyra Banks taught me.
Smize with your eyes, Ladies.
“You’re usually better at avoiding my questions, Portas. You’re losing your touch. So what happened with the bruise then?”
Well now I know he’s not impressed, he only uses my surname when he’s getting impatient with me. And I know I’m riling him up, because there’s a glint of frustration in his eyes, and he’s gripping the handle of his mug so hard I can see his knuckles turning white.
“I’m clumsy.” I try to laugh in a breathy way, like some kind of sexy Angelina Jolie type, but it comes off as more of a snort, “You know that. I probably fell down at some point or knocked into someone.”
He turns his head, placing his mug on the bench. Then he’s walking over to me, striding across the room in easy steps. I can’t help it, I wriggle in my seat, and I do everything I can to resist the urge to cover the bruise because then he’ll win whatever the hell weird game this is.
He stops in front of me and squats in front of the couch, he’s at eye level. He’s so close I can smell whatever it is that he uses to wash with. It’s incredible and makes me want to lean forward and close the space between our lips.
His hand gently reaches out to take my arm. I know I shouldn’t be enjoying the contact so much, but his touch is so wonderfully soft and gentle. He swipes a thumb gently over the skin, and I wish he wouldn’t have because now the spot has erupted in gooseflesh. He either doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t say anything.
“It looks like a hand shape.”
Will takes his hand back and I kind of wish he wouldn’t. I can’t say anything, and besides, I don’t know what to say to his statement. He’s right, it’s a hand shape, from where Micah gripped me so hard I thought he was going to break it.
“Courtney must’ve grabbed you pretty hard for it to leave this mark.”
“It wasn’t Courtney, it was Mic-” I stop myself before i finish that sentence. Christ he’s good. “Nice try, Will. Don’t you have something you need to do?”
“Micah? The kid who started all this trouble?”
“Well, I mean there are lots of people with the letters M-I-C in their names.”
“Well, there’s only one you seem to have problems with.”
I shake my head trying to get back to some sense of normalcy. Will seems to freeze, which makes me freeze. I can see him swallow, he leans forward and gently moves aside my hair from my neck. What the hell is happening?
Shit. Oh Shit. I forgot!!
“Lucrezia, what the fuck is this?”
The Hickie. The god-damned hickie that sonofabitch left on me when he tried to maul me behind Block D.
Stupid, Stupid Lucy. Now he’s going to think you’re a skank.
I feel myself shrug, I don’t know what else I can do or say to make this situation go away. Because with the hard set of his jaw, I know it’s not. I falter – it’s all too overwhelming and I know i can feel the liquid evidence of my weakness pressing against the back of my eyes, begging for release.
Hold it together, Lucy!
Fuck! Betrayal! A tear slides out, I quickly jerk away, hoping he hasn’t seen it, but it’s too late. I know he has, because he leans forward, and his voice softens, goes lower. His hand moves to tuck my hair behind my ears, and curves to caress my cheek. The gesture is surprisingly tender and kind.
I know he’s just being nice, but an admittedly huge part of me wants him to want me. To like me. Not just look after me because i’m Kate’s little sister.
I swallow, it feels like I’m trying pass a stone down my throat and i can’t even bring myself to look at his face. I know all I’ll see there is concern, and possibly frustration. A part of me is terrified i’ll see judgement and hatred too.
You’re taking up his precious time, you idiot. Stop carrying on. Make it normal again!!
“I’m sorry I swore,” he says finally.
He’s sorry he swore? Is that what he thinks I’m upset about? I can’t help but laugh.
“I swear all the fucking time,” I reply, daring to look up at him. That one earns me a smile, well, Will’s version of a smile. I find myself again, ready to take control, “Don’t worry yourself about the bruises and the mark on my neck. I handled it.”
“I have no doubt you did, Lucrezia,” His hand comes to rest of top of mine, and he gives it a gentle squeeze, “But sometimes you need to let someone else take care of you.”
“Kate has enough problems to deal with when it comes to me.” I shrug, trying to keep myself calm. trying not to read to much into what he’s saying, or the way his hand feels over mine.
“I’m here too, you know.”
“Yes,” I sigh, “But you don’t need to be.”
“I know.”
“But you are.” I continue, not sure where this is going, “And I don’t really know why. Are you and Kate dating or something?”
He frowns – again, barely a line between his eyes, but it’s there.
“Do you want me to date your sister?”
It’s there, the question. Is he asking me permission to date my sister? I can’t help but be a little heart-broken. He’s obviously a nice guy, high strung and gruff as fuck, but if he wants to date Kate and take care of us, I’m not going to get in the way. Kate would be over the moon.
“If you want to,” Is all I say.
What I really want to say is ‘Date me, date me, date me.’ But I’m not going to do that to Kate, and I’m not going to do that to Will, because we’re kind of becoming friends here and I don’t need to ruin it by making things awkward with my school-girl crush.
I must’ve said something wrong though, because his hand is gone from mine, and he’s standing up. Or maybe he’s just realising he’s spent twenty minutes talking to a kid and needs to get back to work. Who knows with him?
He grunts, I guess we’re back to monosyllabic communication.
Kate rushes in, and her face is kinda red and pinched. Oh God, she’s just got off the phone from the school, I just know it.
“Suspended again, really?” Her voice is raised and I jump, Will also jumps. Good to know he can be surprised.
“I-”
“No.” She holds he hand up, “No excuses. Micah and you behind the school?”
“But he-”
“I don’t want to hear it, Lucy,” She says, anger palpable, “Ok? This one seems pretty clear cut. You think it’s a smart idea to fuck your ex on school property?”
“No, it wasn’t like that, he tried to-”
“I’m starting to think you’re exactly what those girls are calling you. Lucy. Seriously, this behaviour needs to stop. I just don’t know what to do with you anymore. We’ll talk about your punishment later.”
She turns on her heel and marches right out of there. Leaving me utterly humiliated and ashamed.
Will is kinda just standing there, looking at me with that blank expression of his and I want to expire.
“Are you okay?”
“The fuck do you think?” I know i’m being rude and snappy to what is a simple and actually, quite kind question.
“I’ll talk to her when she’s calmed down. She’s just frustrated.”
“I don’t need you to solve my problems, Decker.”
There’s a pause, and then Will takes a seat on the couch next to me. He looms over me, making me feel like a dwarf.
“When she calms down and sees the marks, she will know exactly what happened. She’s not stupid.”
“You’ve barely known me a week, how do you know she’s not making the right assumptions?”
Will shrugs, “Is she?”
“No.” I know I sound like a petulant child now, but I don’t care.
“I’ll talk to her.”
“My father’s dead, Decker.” I give him my most scathing glare, “I don’t need another one.”
Will just gives me an assessing look, like he’s staring into my soul. It’s unnerving. I can’t stand it, so I look away.
Suddenly, he’s wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulls me to his side in what is a whole 5 second of a hug. His scent wraps around my nose and leaves me breathless. His arm is warm, strong, comforting and I can’t remember the last time I felt this safe.
I resist the urge to tuck my body against his, to turn my head and bury it into his chest and breath him in. It’s all I can focus on – because the moment I even start to relax into him, I know I’m going to do something embarrassing, like trying to kiss him. In the mix of the warm embrace a flash of thoughts run through me, each more erotic than the next. Flashes of naked skin against mine, lips, hands, touching everywhere. I feel a shiver run between my thighs and I clamp them together, trying everything in my power to stop whatever weird arousal response is happening to me.
What the actual fuck, Lucy?
Then he’s pulling back and standing up – the hug has ended too soon and my body feels a wash of tingles come over it. I have to remind myself that I shouldn’t feel disappointed that our weird side-hug has ended. I feel disappointed in myself that I even thought of all those nasty, slutty things about Will. Mostly I feel disappointed by the fact nothing actually happened. The guy gave me a normal, friendly hug. Why, oh, why am I such a desperate nut-job?
“I’ll talk to Kate.” Will repeats. It’s gentle but firm, as if to say that the conversation is over.
I can’t even look at him, my skin is still reeling from the contact. I hear his boots clicking on the floor, the door swinging open and shutting with a thunk as Will leaves to room.
Jesus H. Christ.
————
It’s Saturday night and instead of being out at Andrew Nathan’s house party, I’m at home. Not that I wanted to go to his stupid party anyway – not after everything this week. Even if I wanted to, I can’t. True to his word, Will tried to speak to Kate. And while she had come to realise I’m only half of the hose-beast she thinks I am, I’m still super grounded. She was of the opinion that I was a moron for even trusting Micah again. I can see how she’s actually right on that one. So my punishment is eternal grounding until such time as she decides I’m not a walking catastrophe and can be allowed outside on my own.
The new rules? After my suspension, when I’m back at school I’m not to be out of the immaculate and judgemental sight of Sister Crick. Never – not even to do a shit. Sister Crick has surprisingly agreed to this after a phone conversation with Kate, but I know for a fact she is going to double hate me for it. When I’m not at school, I’m at home with either Will or Kate. If they’re both working, I get to be at the cop shop. This is now my new life, definitely until the end of term, possibly until the end of the year. Hopefully not for the rest of my life.
I can hear music blaring in the distance. Unfortunately Andrew lives a few doors down, so it’s kind of hard to escape the fact that I am a social pariah and missing out. Tonight, Will is downstairs in the kitchen, once again glued to the files on the kitchen table. Tonight I’m in my bedroom, watering my cactus. Or maybe over-watering it. I’m not really sure how much I’m supposed to be watering this thing. Either way, I’m probably going to kill it.
Dad gave me the cactus for my birthday earlier this year. I had asked for a kitten, but he said I’d needed to learn how not to kill plants before I was to be trusted with an actual, live animal. I’d thought it was so unfair at the time. Who the hell gets a cactus for their eighteenth birthday? But then he suddenly died in a car crash and I learnt what ‘unfair’ actually means.
After possibly water-boarding my cactus, I stumble my way downstairs to investigate what Will is doing and maybe annoy him.
“Hey”, I say, rounding on him in the kitchen. He ignores me and continues pouring over some sheets.
Clearly he’s busy and trying to concentrate, but I feel socially starved, so I persist. I haven’t seen Will angry yet, and I’m kind of wondering what it might take to actually push him over the edge.
“Hey – I’m making tea,” I smile innocently, moving to turn the kettle on, leaning against the kitchen bench, “Do you want some.”
I see Will’s chest deflate, as if he’s sighing and trying not to show it. The part of me that’s an asshole is delighted by my ability to annoy him.
“No thanks,” he replies, eyes still glued to his sheets.
“You sure?” I trill in a high-pitched tone, like a British school marm – I don’t even know who I am anymore, “I’m making jasmine tea.”
Will actually looks up, I think it’s the first time tonight I’ve actually properly seen his face. As soon as his eyes connect with my body, he’s frowning.
“Why are you dressed like that?” his voice is thick with something, and it puts me on edge.
I look down at the jean shorts and tank top. I’m not sure why he’s got a problem with what I’m wearing. Maybe because he’s used to seeing me in either baggy men’s clothes or my uniform.
“It’s hot and these are clean,” I know I’m crossing my arms over my chest defensively, “What? You got a problem with my style now?”
“You look like you’re going out.” Will’s gaze is lingering, definitely lingering on me – his eyes trail up to my face and I’m surprised to find that his expression is accusatory. Like I’ve done something wrong. That is so not the expression I was expecting.
I snort, I actually snort, “Decker, this is not a ‘going out’ outfit. This is a ‘it’s hot and my other clothes are in the wash’ outfit. My ‘going out’ outfits are much cuter, and y’know, not from three years ago.”
Will just nods, mouth drawn in a tight line.
I turn and busy myself making my tea. I turn back around briefly to ask Will if he’s sure that he doesn’t want tea, but the words die in my throat. Will’s eyes meet mine and I think I’ve just caught him staring at my ass. This is simultaneously horrifying and amazing.
“Stop staring at my ass, Decker,” I snap out, before I remember I need to use my brain before I open my mouth.
“It’s hard not to with how god-damned tiny those short are. Your ass is practically falling out of them. Does your sister let you go out on those?”
“No – because they’re home clothes.” and then it dawns on me, “Oh my god, Decker, are you calling me fat?” I try my best not to whip around and hide my butt behind me. I slowly, gracefully even, continue to strain the tea, pour it in a mug and turn to give him my most scathing, snooty look. All that matters is my ass is safety out of Will’s sight now.
Will gives me a hard look, like he can’t believe we’re having this conversation, “No. I’m not calling you fat. I’m just saying if you’re planning on sneaking out to go to this party, you’re not going out in those shorts.”
“Calm down, Stalin. I’m not going to any parties. I’m grounded.”
It’s hard to walk out of the kitchen feeling dignified after a conversation like that. But I manage anyway. I plonk myself on the couch, tea in hand, and put on a movie of one of the texts I’m supposed to be studying for the Higher School Certificate. If i’m going to bludge, I’m going to do it in a kind of educational way.
I try to focus on the screen in front of me, but in the distance I can hear thunder rumbling through the skies.
————
Halfway through the film, the house has a blackout, I guess the storm blew out the electrical fuse.
In my anxiety, I practically jump from the couch and try to find my way to the kitchen in the pitch dark. There are momentary flashes of lightning which illuminate the room for mere seconds, although it’s hardly helpful and mostly just scary, because the lightning is following closely by loud, claps of thunder which feel like they’re shaking the ground.
“Will.” I call out, hands tentatively raised in front of me, in case I bump into a wall or something. I jump when I feel someone grab my hand.
“I’m right in front of you.” Will’s soft, deep voice is calm. His fingers are laced in mine and I’m glad It’s dark because otherwise he’d be able to see the furious blush currently storming itself across my face.
“Fuck, Decker. You move like a cat. Don’t do that.” I’m half scared and half embarrassed that he’s holding my hand. I try not to read too much in it. We’re in the dark, neither of us can see – touch is the easiest way to know where someone is. I rationally know this, but my heart pitter-patters anyway.
His phone flashes on, the light glaring against my eyes, and I flinch and I wish I could find mine. I can see Will’s handsome face from the glow of the light.
“I’m going out to the fuse box. Wait in here.”
“Will,” there’s definitely fear in my voice and i know he can hear it, because I can feel his hand squeeze mine in what I assume is supposed to be a reassuring manner.
“I’ll be a few minutes,” he spins on his heel and walks out.
I try to keep myself busy, fiddling with my fingers in the dark, watching the little light of his phone slowly become more distant. I can hear the back door opening and closing.
There’s a lightning strike and it feels like there’s someone in the house. I’m not certain, but I can hear creaking, like the front door’s opened and closed. I try and remember if I locked the front door when Will came in tonight.
“Will,” I say out loud, “Will, are you back in here?”
No response, all I can hear it more creaking and I swear I can hear whispering.
I crouch low on the ground, hoping that if I make myself small, I’ll be safe. I really wish I hadn’t lost my phone.
“Is it hard being such a slut?” a voice whispers from across the room.
I can feel the hairs standing on the back of my head and I feel utterly paralysed. I know that voice, but in the panic of my mind it’s hard to place. There’s more creaking, and it’s coming closer to me. I move, sliding my body along the floor, trying to make my way to the back door, where Will left.
“Hide all you want, whore.” another voice, this one female laughs out.
A hand comes out to touch my shoulder and I open my mouth to scream. I can’t help it. The hand clamps over my mouth stopping me, and a familiar smell travels through my nose.
“It’s me,” I can hear Will’s deep gravelly voice, whispering, breath tickling my ear.
I can feel the heat of his body behind me. My heart calms immediately, I turn, grabbing wildly in the dark, I can vaguely see his shadow as my eyes adjust to the pitch black slowly. He pulls me up off the ground, close to his body, and I can’t stop myself from burying myself against him. Will’s arms come around me and just like that moment in the precinct when he hugged me, I feel safe. I can fill him lean down, his stubble brushing against my cheek, his breath tickling my ear.
I manage to bring my lips to his ear as speak as softly as I can, “Someone’s in the house.”
I try not to enjoy the way my lips tingle as they brush up against his ear. I want to press everything into his warmth, into his scent. I realise that my heart’s pitter-pattering again but it isn’t because of the fact that there are randoms in my house, calling me names.
“I know,” he whispers, his hand is cupping me at the base of my skull, and I can feel his lips brush my cheek, and it shoots through my body something fierce. For a moment I imagine he’s kissing me, but he’s talking, lips moving against my cheek as his breath tickles my ear, “It’s two kids.”
“I think I know them,”
“Hey bitch, how much do you charge for a BJ?”
“Yeah.” there’s humour in his soft voice. I rub my face into his neck, I don’t care if it’s weird or not normal, because I need to feel comfort, I need to feel safe. He seems to understand, because his arms tighten around me, “In a moment I’m going to go back outside and fix the fuse box. The storm didn’t cut the energy, those kids did something to it. I’ll be a second, Ok?”
“She doesn’t charge anything, it’s free.”
“Will, don’t leave.” I can hear the whispered fear in my voice and I’m ashamed,
“They’re not going to hurt you. And I’ll be just a moment.”
“How do you know they won’t?”
His hold tightens on me momentarily, “Sit behind the couch, stay down. I’ll only be a moment.”
He leaves and my body feels like it’s been robbed. I find myself sinking to the floor again, as he quietly slinks out. I clamour my way across the floor until I feel the back of the couch.
True to his word the lights flick back on, and I can’t see the two kids, but then I’m hiding behind the couch, which hopefully means they can’t see me.
Either way, all I can hear is the sound of footsteps running, the door slamming open and the sound of rain. The lights are on, but I don’t feel safe. I squeeze myself into the corner behind the couch.
At least fifteen minutes pass and foot steps pad through the front door. I hope to God it’s not them again.
“Lucrezia, I got their IDs – I’ll take them to the office tomorrow and get the beat cops to bring them in. They’re gone now, come out.” It’s Will’s deep, gravelly voice.
I can’t move, I can’t speak.
His footsteps grow louder and before I know it he’s behind the couch, kneeling down. He doesn’t say anything, just drops down next to me and throws an arms around my shoulders and presses me against his chest. I melt against him, hiding my face into his neck again. This time, I have no words, all I can feel is a tightness in my throat and tears in my eyes.
I don’t know how long I stayed like that, crying into his shirt. But to his credit, Will didn’t once roll his eyes, or tell me to get over it, hell he didn’t even move. Just sat next to me on the carpet and held me. I don’t remember when, but at some point I fell asleep.
————
I wake up warm, calm and most importantly, in one piece. Will and I are still in the carpet, but he’s sleeping in the floor on his back and I’m tucked safely between his arm and body. Will stirs, and he brings his phone up, I guess to check something.
“Shit,” I hear him mutter. I turn my head to gaze at him and we make eye contact briefly. I can only imagine how I look; sallow, red eyed, puffy. Our faces are close and I get to urge to close the distance and press my lips to his but I hold myself back. After everything he did for me last night, I don’t need to repay him by throwing myself at him.
“Do you need to go?” I ask, leaning up. I notice that light is filtering through the windows. It’s early morning at least.
Will ignores the question and fixes me with an inscrutable look, “Are you ok?”
I think about it for a moment, “I don’t know,” I decide, “But I’ll survive if you need to go.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he says gruffly. He leans up, bringing me with him, arm holding me to his chest, like I’m a doll, like I’m breakable, and I realise I never want him to let go, “we should get you to bed.”
“I’m not a child.” I feel huffy now, “I don’t need to be put to bed.”
“I know you’re not a child.” I don’t think it’s my imagination, but there’s an intensity in his eyes, in his mouth, and I can feel my heart lurching, liquid arousal shooting between my thighs.
This should be weird. Detective Will Decker isn’t supposed to make my heart race and my body heat. Detective Will Decker is supposed to be cold and gruff. He’s my sister’s work colleague, her secret crush and now all I can think about is how those lips might feel against mine, how his hands might feel on my naked flesh.
Fuck, Lucy, he’s twice your age, get a hold of yourself.
I realise I’m staring at Will, leaning up against his chest, mouth parted in a sigh. There’s no mistaking his gaze, it’s heated, and I swear he’s going to kiss me, his mouth soft, eyes dropping to focus on my lips. I want to close the gap, but I’m scared I’ll ruin whatever is happening here. I’m scared that if I’m mistaken, it’ll ruin things between us and between him and Kate.
So I wait, I wait and I try to ignore the way his skin burns against mine, the way his muscles feel even through our clothes. I try to ignore the way my body yearns for his, they way my breasts tingle, they way my pussy practically throbs with need for him.
Suddenly he’s clearing his throat, and his eyes are like shutters, a wall goes up. His face is once again like marble. I push myself back, embarrassed slightly that I might have read too much in a look.
“Sorry to keep you,” I find myself rambling nervously as I pull myself off the floor. My legs are surprisingly shaky, “Kate will be home soon I’m sure and you need to go to work. I mean if you don’t go to work, you’ll get in trouble, and I’d hate it if you got into trouble. I’m not worth getting in trouble for, I’m barely worth not getting in trouble for.”
The rambling continues as Will gets up off the ground, stretching. I try not to admire the way the muscles across his chest flex.
He moves to go to the front door, keys in hand and before he leaves, he turns, “Stop stressing Lucrezia. You’re worth all kinds of trouble.”
It’s so soft I almost miss it – my heart skips a beat and I can’t quite believe what he’s said.
My mind races to try and make meaning of all of it; what he’s said, the way he was looking at me, the way my body reacted to it. It’s terrifying, exciting. Mostly, I hope it’s real and not some delusional, psychotic part of my brain overreacting to kindness and concern.
All I know for certain is that my body is filled with hunger spreading like wildfire. It’s the kind of need that can only be taken care of and not ignored. The stress of last night is hardly able to dull it. Actually, I’m tired of ignoring my attraction to Will.
So, I spend my morning locked in my bedroom, hands between my thighs, trying to work out the frustration. I don’t even feel slightly embarrassed that the whole time I’m imagining fucking Will, I’m imagining our bodies thrusting together, his lips all over me. I’m imagining how his flesh might feel under my hands, how his cock might feel in my mouth.
I come again and again and again. I come until I’m shaking and my clitoris is sore. But the need is never quenched. The fire just keeps on building, and I realise it will never be enough, not until I have Will.
Lucy, you’re a mess and you don’t even care.