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Once I’ve got it uncovered, I use a corner of the shirt to dab at the open wounds on his knuckles.Neo shrieks, and I flinch, hoping I didn't hurt him too bad. “Sorry.”
I keep dabbing gently, cleaning up the blood that continues to seep from the multiple cuts. “What did that wall ever do to you anyways?” It’s a joke, and I’m hoping he sees the humor in it. I look up at him, smiling, but it quickly fades when I see his watchful stare. “What?”
He still doesn't say anything, and I’m beginning to wonder if he’s in some sort of shock right now. It’s starting to freak me out.
While he watches me, I look at his hand, continuing to clean it. “Do you have a first aid kit?” It’s a stupid question because why would Neo have a first aid kit. “Stay right here, okay? I’m gonna go get some Band-Aids from Jagger’s bathroom. I’m pretty sure I saw some in there once, along with some antibiotic cream.
I wrap his hand back up and rest it in his lap, then go to stand, but he stops me. With his free hand on my upper thigh, he lowers me back down. “Don’t go.”
“But you need bandages…”
He swallows hard, lifting his healthy hand. His fingertips graze softly against my cheek, and he watches the action intently. Sliding his fingers behind my ear, he tucks my hair.
“Neo,” I whisper, my voice raspy, my heart pounding in my chest, “I don’t want to stay away from you. And I don’t want to go.”
Moments pass. I’m not sure how many, though, because it also feels like time is standing still.
Neo lowers his hand, resting it over mine in my lap. He looks down at his fidgety fingers. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
His words take me by complete surprise. I’ve never once, in all the years I’ve known Neo, heard him apologize for anything. That’s why I don’t take it as a grain of salt. I soak it in, letting the words wrap around my heart like a web of ivy.
But he doesn’t stop there. He turns to face me, lifting a bent leg slightly onto the bed. The shirt around his bloody hand falls to the floor, and he raises that same hand to my cheek, cupping it in his palm. “I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”
“I…I don’t want you to hurt me anymore either.”
I’m not sure what this is. What this feeling inside me means. Seeing Neo so raw gives me this overpowering, desperate need to grab ahold of him and never let go. My stomach swims with warmth, my heart pangs with desire. Every inch of my body feels like it’s been set on fire and the only way to distinguish it is…
My train of thought is lost when Neo throws his arms around me, our mouths colliding at the same time. We fall to our sides onto the mattress. His feral eyes land on mine, wide and lustful. He pulls back momentarily, mouth agape, before devouring me again—the taste of stale beer on his lips. Our tongues knot, teeth clank, and our hearts pound into one another’s chests.
Neo slides his hand up my shirt and I quiver at his touch. “I don’t wanna play these games anymore, Scar.” His words come out raspy and thick. “I don’t care where you came from or where you’re going, I just want to be there. Be with you.”
“Neo—” I begin, but he silences me with his lips. He groans into my mouth, and I swallow it down, along with the words I was going to say—I need you.
Has anyone ever told Neo that before—that they need him? I want him to know. He needs to realize he’s worthwhile, and he’s not the scum his dad continues to make him believe he is. I want to kiss every wound, every scar, and show him that he deserves to be loved. That he’s worthy.
His body is like a weighted blanket over mine. His erratic heartbeat is a reminder that he’s human and not the robot he pretends to be.
One hand cups my breast, while the other edges the hem of my sweatpants. I’m not wearing any panties, which he soon learns when his hand slides downward.
Head lifted, his tired, sore eyes on mine, he says, “You’re so warm. So wet. Do you want me, Scar?”
I nod in response, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. “Yes.” I need him to believe it. He needs to know I want him.
The tips of his fingers push inside me, and I open up my legs for him. My hand finds his cheek, laying softly against it, and I guide his mouth to mine. It’s not hard, not forced, it’s gentle and sweet and a side of Neo I’ve never seen before. “You’re so beautiful, Scar.” His words ignite a new flame inside me.
I’m almost certain I’m the first one to get this part of him and the notion stirs warmth inside my stomach. “And you’re so beautifully broken.”
He kisses me again, our tongues doing laps inside each other’s mouths. “Try to fix me. I dare ya,” he challenges me, but his words are more a plea than anything else, and it’s one that I willingly accept.
My hand slides up his shirt, skating over the raised scars and rigid abs. I keep moving, until I’m pulling his shirt over his head. The edges of his back tattoos run around to his sides and I trail my fingers over them, wondering what each one means. It’s an inked story that I want him to read to me. I want all his pain. All his secrets. I want everything he’s willing to give me.
Neo slides his hand out of my pants, and he lifts up, before pulling me up by my hand. My eyes dance across his perfect form. He lifts my shirt over my head, now seeing I’m not wearing a bra. He admires my breasts like a priceless work of art, taking in every detail, every curve, every vein.
He licks his lips, and I find myself doing the same.
As he’s watching me, I slide my pants down, showing him how serious I am about this. He quirks a curious brow, but then he follows suit and removes his shorts. I halt, taking a nice long look at his engorged cock.
He’s back on his side, shoulder lifted off the bed, while I lie flat on my back with my legs spread for him. I take his hand, placing it at my sex. “I need you,” I whimper in a breathless state.
