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“You see that window? And the sunlight shining on the snow? That’s why I’m happier. Because it’s actually morning, loser.”
“Oh…” He edges me closer to him and wraps me up in his arms like I’m his to protect. “You’re much more of a loser than I am.”
“Kiss my ass, jerkface.”
“Fuck off, freaky-ass freak.” He hisses as I lean against his chest. I love the way he smells...I love the way he feels. Mostly though, I love how he tells me to fuck off and calls me a freaky-ass freak.
“Bite me, asshole,” I bellow, playfully slapping his cheek with the palm of my hand.
He lays me down on the bed, and his body hovers over mine. His hands are pinning me down, and I never want to get up. “I would, but you would like it too much.”
I would. “I wouldn’t!”
“Is that a challenge?”
I nod once and stretch my neck out. His fingers run up and down my neckline before his teeth lightly begin to nibble on my neck. Oh, fuck my life…That feels good. I feel new levels of excitement, his gentle caressing fingertips give me goose bumps; and Kayden knows he was right that I would like it. He’s slow at first, sucking gently in one spot before his teeth run across my skin. A moan escapes my parted lips the moment his tongue leaves his mouth and explores my collarbone. His kisses get deeper, and a growl emanates from his throat letting me know that he loves biting me as much as I love being bitten. His hands fall to the hem of my t-shirt, and when his fingers make contact with my stomach, my back arches toward him, silently begging for more of his soft caresses, more of his bites.
OhMyGod. I’m lusting so hard right now.
I get it now… It all makes sense to me, why Bella was all gaga for Edward and shit in Twilight, because he made her feel—the same way Kayden is making me feel. If he looked at her the way Kayden looks at me; if he touched her the way Kayden touches me; if he nibbled into her soul the way Kayden did mine, then I would expect nothing less than to be transformed into something that would be his forever.
Kayden’s eyes find mine, asking permission to remove the shirt, and I have it off and tossed to the side before he can even blink once. Next, I reach for the sides of his shirt and remove it before he can blink twice. The penny on his chest stares right at me, and my finger circles it, slowing down time. I feel his heart pounding, and my hand lies over it. Breathing deeply and slowly, he closes his eyes and gently places his hand over my heart. Matching breath for breath, my hand rises and falls against him as our hearts beat as one.
He sits up and moves to the other side of the bed, away from me. When I push myself up on my elbows, I turn to him to find such sadness, such regret, lying inside his eyes.
“I can’t sleep with you, Jules.” He bends his knees, resting his elbows against them, his eyes staring at the comforter wrinkled underneath him. His breathing is heavy, and I only wish I could read the thoughts flying through his mind. He rubs the bridge of his nose before he looks at me, and my heart shatters. He looks so hurt, and I worry I’m the one who’s hurting him.
“Did I do something wrong?” I push myself up and sit cross-legged, positioning myself directly in front of him. He brushes a piece of fallen hair from my face and through tight lips, he slowly releases the breath he’s been holding.
“No. That’s the thing. You’ve done everything right. All of these former assholes you dated used you, treated you like shit, and pu
t their hands on you for their own greedy needs. And I hate them for that. For making you doubt yourself. I hate that they touched you like they meant it. I hate how they looked at you as if you were the only thing they saw. And I hate how much you gave of yourself to people so unworthy.”
I don’t know what to say to him, but I’ve never felt so exposed in my life. My arms wrap around my body, and Kayden lifts the comforter, quick to cover me up.
“You deserve more, and I don’t deserve to touch you. At least not the way I want to touch you—not yet, anyway.” He holds his hands toward me, palms up, and stares into my eyes. I place my hands against his, and unknowingly he changes my life in an instant while he keeps talking.
“You deserve to have your hands held. You deserve to be taken out to a nice restaurant. You deserve to go dancing because you fucking love dancing. Then the lucky bastard who gets to do all of these things with you should walk you home and stop at the front steps. He should want to make love to you, but he doesn’t even really let the thought cross his mind. He kisses you gently, with no tongue, and no longer than a five-second peck. He pulls away from you, smiling because he knows the simplistic kiss was the best thing that has ever happened to him. Finally, he walks back to his car, telling you he’ll call you, which he does. He calls you the moment he hits his car, just to thank you for allowing him to know you.”
“Why do you always say the right thing?”
“I don’t. But after meeting you, I realized how much meaningless sex I’ve had with girls who were probably as hopeful as you are. So from the head master of the Meaningless Club to the head mistress of the Hopeful Club, I apologize on behalf of all the losers, users, dumbasses, dicks, fuckers, meatheads, nerds, liars, cheaters, and just plain idiots.”
Best apology ever. “Well, we Hopefuls fully accept your apology.”
“Good,” he sighs, and I see him really taking in my acceptance. His body relaxes, and he edges closer to me, “Now get dressed. It’s already two in the afternoon. I gotta go pick out some Christmas trees with your ex-asshole, Tim Faulter, and your dad, and you have to go bake cookies. Then later on, I’m going to be the best boyfriend ever and make everyone in your family super jealous of our fake relationship. You have no idea the kind of things I have planned for these next few days.”
He hops off of the bed and rubs his hands together, emitting some Dr. Evil laugh as he heads out of the room. When he suddenly comes back, he pauses and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out two folded pieces of paper.
“Oh, also, I ran into your cute little niece—who by the way was fully clothed today—and we had a nice talk about how she thinks you’re her favorite aunt.”
“I’m her only aunt.”
“Geez, do you always pay that much attention to all the details? Anyway, we each drew a picture of you.” In his left hand, he holds up the first piece of paper, which is a very colorful drawing of swirlies and weird marks that make no sense whatsoever. In his right hand, I see a drawing of pink stick figures.
“Let me guess. You made the swirls?”
His mouth hangs open and he gasps. “How the hell did you know?! Anyway, back to planning the best relationship day ever. Mwhahaha!” He marches off again with his evil laughter.
