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And here I am, stuck in the middle of it.
Stuck with lovely Melody.
Her body, her moans.
Pinning her down and fucking her. Licking her soft skin. Biting her swollen nipples.
I should be burned for this. I should be beaten and killed.
But I want her. I really, truly want her, not only for this place or for the money, but for her. Melody’s so much better than I ever dreamed possible, stronger than I ever imagined. Anyone that could survive that she’s been through and what she’s still dealing with deserves respect and adoration, and I want to worship the ground Melody walks on. I need her and want her, and I despise myself for being trapped in this lie.
“Come for me, lovely Melody,” I whisper as I fuck her, my fingers in her mouth. She sucks on them, moaning. “Come for me, lovely girl. Come for me, you beautiful, filthy girl. Come for me, come for me.” Her back arches and it’s bliss, fucking bliss, watching her turn pink and moan, and I can’t help myself. She pushes me over the edge and I match her orgasm with my own, exploding between her legs and filling her to the brim.
We lie on the mattress in a tangle of sweaty limbs. The room smells like sex and it’s intoxicating. I kiss her, breathe her sweat, kiss her neck. I want to grip her hair and guide her mouth to my cock. I’m still half hard and twitching, and she smiles as I press myself against her flank.
“You really don’t get enough, do you?” she asks, grinning.
“I really don’t. It’s the only time I can stop thinking.”
“Yeah? What do you have to run from, huh?” She kisses my neck and I’m horribly tempted to tell her everything, the whole truth.
Instead, I settle for only a piece of me. Even when I want to be honest, I can’t bring myself to give away everything. “My family has no money.”
She pulls back, eyebrows raised. “Really?”
“That’s why I take these jobs.”
“I figured you were hard off, but—you really have nothing?”
“Not a dime. My mother lives in the last piece of property we own and everything I make goes toward her expenses. I pay for everything, and she lives as simply and frugally as possible to help me out. I hate that I can’t give her the comforts she’s used to.”
“What about your dad? I thought he was like a hedge fund manager or something.”
“No,” I say with a laugh. The idea of my father investing other people’s money is hilarious and terrifying. “He’s an addict. Gambling and alcohol mostly. My parents spent half of what they inherited, and my father lost the rest chasing a series of bad investments. And now here we are. I spend my time taking well-paying but awful jobs, paying for my mother’s groceries and bailing my father out of trouble.”
She stares into my eyes and brushes her fingers down my face. I catch them and kiss them. “I wish you’d told me that sooner.”
“Why?”
“It makes you more human. I thought you were just—I don’t know, another rich guy having fun.”
“I am having fun.” I smile at her and kiss her bottom lip, biting it gently. “This is very fun.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.” I pull her against me. “But nothing about my life is easy. I’m not complaining, just telling you the truth.” Or at least the part I can bear parting with.
“That’s not easy for you, is it?” she whispers. “Telling the truth.”
“About as easy for me as it is for you.”
She laughs and kisses my collarbone. “Then it’s the hardest thing you ever have to do.”
We lapse into silence. Her heart’s racing and so is mine. I want to tell her that I love her, that I want to keep her, that I’m falling for her like I never imagined I could. But the barriers are still there, and I can’t seem to climb them. I can’t quite overcome what I am.
A liar and a thief and a fraud.
We stay like that for a while, holding each other, getting closer to sleep. I’m right on the cusp of drifting off when I hear a noise from down at the bottom of the steps.
