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Her voice is full of fear, but my name is spoken like a whispered prayer. Almost like she’s trying to seek comfort in my name, in me.
As if I am her last hope in this whole forsaken world.
Fuck, Riley has ruined me.
“It’s okay,” I soothe, as gently as I can. I’ve never done this before. I might be good at a lot of things, but I don’t know the first thing about comforting someone. I don’t know how. That’s not a life skill I possess. But still…
For my Little Wallflower—I try my fucking best.
“I’m right here,” I tell her. Her chin wobbles, holding back a cry. “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you.”
In a brief thoughtless moment, I do the only thing that feels right. I know I will regret it tomorrow; I know she will hate me tomorrow. But still…nothing has ever made more sense or felt more right to me in my life, until this very moment.
I take off my shoes and crawl in bed with Riley Johnson.
The moment my body slides against her, she curls up into me. Her delicate softness against all my hard muscles. Her shaky breath caresses my throat, where her face is tucked in.
Her body presses into me and I feel her frantic heartbeat. I don’t know what’s going on in her head, but Riley is trying to crawl under my flesh, like she’ll find sanctuary there. I don’t know how else to describe it.
Ah, fuck. She’s killing me.
Riley still has a death grip on my wrist. Almost like she’s scared I’ll leave…and if I do, she’ll wither and fade into nothingness.
“Stay.” Her tiny voice cracks with that single word.
“It’s okay, you’re safe.” What else am I supposed to say in this situation? Suddenly I’m pissed at myself for being such a stupid fuck. I don’t even know how to calm someone. Jesus, I really am pathetic.
I swallow and then try again. “Talk to me,” I whisper.
Riley tenses in my arms. “W-what?”
“Talk to me…Tell me your favorite color,” I coax her into speaking. Maybe if she talks, the panic will slowly recede in her mind. If she focuses on something else other than her fear, she might find it easier to calm down.
“My favorite color?” She seems confused at my question, her mind still hazy with panic.
I rub my hand over her arm, my fingers brushing over her goosebumps. I don’t like how cold her skin is. “Yeah. Do you like pink?”
“A little,” Riley responds quietly.
“What about red?”
“Red doesn’t look good on me.”
I blink. Really? I think red would suit her. Red is bold and sexy. I imagine messy blonde hair, furious eyes and a red dress. With red lipstick.
And then I’m thinking how fucking beautiful her red lips would look wrapped around my cock—
Rein it in, Bennett.
Her nose brushes against the column of my throat. “I like blue,” she breathes against my skin. Her answer is unexpected.
“What type of blue?”
“Hmm, baby blue.” Her body slowly relaxes against mine.
The storm continues to rage on, but Riley is more focused on me and my words now. She barely even notices the violent thunder booming through the skies.
I continue drawing circles over her arm with my thumb, enjoying the way her muscles start to loosen. “That’s a nice color. What do you think my favorite color is?”
