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I turn to go back to my mattress, because I don’t know what else to do. I want to tell her everything will be okay, but I can’t stop her nightmares. She’s physically safe from harm, but emotionally, there’s not a damn thing I can do.
“Wait!” she calls out quickly. I turn back. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?” Her voice is so small and shaky it makes me want to weep.
“Yes. Let me grab the chair.” I’ll sit by her every night if it’ll help her sleep better. I’ve already done it several times.
“No.” I frown and tilt my head. She licks her lips before continuing. “What I mean is, will you lay with me? And maybe hold me?”
Shock leaves me immobile. My heart stops along with my breathing. It’s not that I don’t want to give her what she’s asking. It’s the fact that she is asking. Holding hands and slight touches to the face are a lot less than holding one’s body against them. I know it’s only because the dream has her spooked and she needs comfort, but it’s still astounding she would ask for something she’s obviously afraid of.
It’s the uncertainty in her eyes and the wobble of her bottom lip that make up my mind. I can’t leave her like this and not offer the comfort she obviously craves. Except for the fact of who she’s asking to give her comfort, her request is perfectly normal. It’s me who’s not normal, not the situation.
My eyes must convey my decision, because the worry fades from her face. She watches me as I walk around to the other side of the bed. I take a deep breath when she lifts the covers and waits for me to get underneath with her.
I lie on my back for a moment, unsure of what to do. She asked me to hold her, but I don’t know exactly what she meant. I’m so far out of my element here, and I’m scared of making her feel uncomfortable.
After several seconds of us looking at each other, she rolls away from me. The bed is small, only a twin size, so it leaves us both on the edge of the mattress. I figure once she falls asleep, I’ll move back to the mattress on the floor so she’ll have more room and not fall off the bed during the night.
I tense when she reaches back and gingerly grabs my hand. I’m stiff as a fucking board as she tugs until I’m forced to roll over toward her back. Although she’s slightly stiff, her body is warm and soft against mine. I try to relax, but it feels so strange to be lying with her. I’ve never lain with someone like this. Grace and the other women know of my preferences in bed, and snuggling is never an option. Not that what Rella and I are doing is anything remotely sexual, but it still feels intimate and very fucking foreign.
Tenderness is something I never received as a child, and it was never something I allowed as an adult. It was something I never felt I deserved.
“Thank you.”
Rella’s softly spoken words have my heart faltering. I should be the one thanking her. She’s unknowingly given me a gift by allowing me to comfort her.
Unconsciously, I tighten my arm around her waist, and she relaxes back against my chest. My legs curl up until they hit the back of hers. I wait for any signs of discomfort, but it never comes. Uncaring that it’s wrong of me to d
o so, I bury my face in her soft hair and breathe in her clean scent.
Something soothing settles inside me, and for the first time in my life, I feel something other than the huge black void that resides in the depths of my soul.
“Thank you.” I repeat her words into the dark room.
A DEEP GROAN LEAVES my lips when something velvety and warm penetrates my subconscious. I want to hold on to it, savor it, and never let it go, because it feels so good and I haven’t felt something good for as long as I can remember.
I briefly wonder what it could be, but decide to just enjoy it for a moment instead.
My dick twitches and starts to fill with blood when something soft presses against it. I flex my hips, chasing the feeling and wanting more of it. In the back of my mind, I think about the strangeness of whatever’s happening. I don’t have sex dreams. Hell, I don’t even like sex. I only fuck when I need the distraction when my mind wanders too far down its dark path.
Peaches and cream invade my senses. I’ve always loved peaches. I can almost taste them now. I breathe in deep, needing more of the scent.
I squeeze my hand against something pillowy, the softness a contrast against the roughness of my mutilated palm. I want to crawl inside whatever is against me and never come out.
A gasp sounds at the same time whatever is in my arms stiffens. I tense. My last memory is of me lying in bed with Rella after she had a nightmare.
All of a sudden, I become fully aware of my surroundings. My eyes snap open, and I’m met with a head full of dark-brown hair, my body plastered against Rella’s back, my hand on her fucking tit.
Fucking hell!
I snatch my hand away from the softness of her breast and immediately roll away. I keep going until I’m flat on my back on the floor staring up at the ceiling. I hastily climb to my feet, horror and anger making my movements jerky.
My eyes land on Rella, who’s huddled with the blanket around her shoulders. She watches me warily. I want to gauge the fuck out of my hands for touching her.
My heart pumps heavily in my chest, and I avert my eyes from her. Shame, remorse, and revulsion at myself twist my stomach into knots.
“I’m sorry,” I state hoarsely, still not able to meet her eyes.
What in the fuck is wrong with you, Emo? It’s not bad enough that you touched her when you were kids, but now you molest her in her sleep?
