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“Do you always cry when you see your ex?”
I swipe my face and notice my hands are wet. I’m crying.
“Leave me alone, Valen.”
“We both know that’s not going to happen. What’s wrong?”
He isn’t going to let this go. He’s going to keep meddling until he gets what he wants.
He can’t save me.
He can’t change the past.
I walk up to him, defeated. His eyes fall to my face. I summon the inner me. The one that I locked away after that night. I need to let that version of me loose. There is only one way he will leave me alone so I don’t lose myself entirely. I can use this as an experiment. A way to fix myself for when the right person in my life comes along.
That person doesn’t deserve a broken girl. That man deserves the old me. The one with a smile and who is not afraid of life. The Melody who wasn’t afraid to try new things. Have dirty sex. The Melody who wanted to fall in love. How could I ever expect to fall in love when I’m afraid of a man’s touch?
I knew I was raped. I felt sore and violated. I got checked out at the free clinic, and I was relieved that I was okay. I didn’t catch anything, but the damage was done. The fear of a man’s touch was embedded in my skin. In my mind. What if I cried out when the guy I like touched me?
I step closer, leaving a small space between us, and look up. “I want you to fuck me.”
He raises a brow. “Prove it.”
I reach between his legs and grab his cock over his sweats, feeling it grow hard in my hand. I feel the barbells between my fingers.
“Fuck me.”
“Why?”
“You said to prove it. I’m doing what you asked.”
“Why the change of heart? What are you trying to prove?”
“I’m asking you for sex. Are you saying no?”
My chest squeezes. This is not going as I planned. He was supposed to be excited and take me to the nearest wall, hike up my skirt, and fuck me. Not interrogate me.
“I’m not saying that. I’m asking you why you want me to fuck you. You’re not asking to make love or have sex. You said fuck.”
“Do you know how to make love, Valen?”
“I’m not the kind who does, Melody. I’m the kind who makes you beg for more.” He lowers his voice. “I’m the kind who fucks you in a dark corner while other people are unaware that you’re getting fucked...hard.”
“Like at the bar?” I fire back.
“I didn’t fuck her. She wished I would, but I won’t. I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because there is a freshman I’m dying to fuck and make her mine, but she thinks I don’t want her.”
“What do you want?”
He grips my throat, eliciting a gasp. His eyes turn pitch black. “Whatever it is, you are willing to give me.”
We stare at each other for a few seconds at the darkness inside us. His eyes were promising pain, pleasure, danger, and titillation. Mine promises the minefield of my worst nightmare and the girl I used to be. The one who would be face down on the back seat of my car with my ass in the air while he fucked me, begging me to be quiet.
“What do you want the most?” I ask.
