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As the last vestiges of pleasure subsided, Ghost shuddered above me one final time before collapsing onto the bed beside me. Eventually, our breathing returned to normal, and I turned to him. He wrapped me in his arms tightly, holding onto me like he’d never let go.
As I lay there in his arms, the warmth of his embrace surrounding me like a blanket, I knew that this moment would stay with me forever. It had been beautiful and no matter what happened, I’d never regret it.
A few minutes later, I felt Ghost slipping away to take care of the condom, but I was close to dozing off. I briefly thought about getting up and returning to my hotel room, but then Ghost’s warm body was pressing up to mine again and all those thoughts flew out the window.
Chapter 16
Ghost
The first rays of sunlight pierced through the crack in the curtains, casting a bright beam of light across the darkened hotel room. I stirred, feeling the warmth of soft curves pressed against me, and quickly remembered that it was Remi in my bed. Our bodies were entangled; I could feel the soft tickle of her breath on my chest where her cheek rested. The faint musky scent of sex lingered in the air and mixed with the soft floral fragrance of her shampoo.
The smell was a potent reminder of the incredible sex we’d had last night. My heart started thumping in my chest. My cock was hard and throbbing, but as much as my body wanted to fuck Remi right this second, my mind was racing faster than my heart.
I needed to think because something odd was happening. I was feeling something foreign right this very second. My immediate thought was to take a Valium and shut those feelings down, but even though having odd feelings was scary and made me feel out of control, surprisingly, they didn’t seem dark or negative.
In fact, I think I felt happy. I’d been living in numbness for so long that it was hard to process what the fuck this feeling was when the veil lifted for a moment. Fuck, that was sad.
I stayed perfectly still, hoping it wouldn’t fade away until I could analyze it further. It had started with the sex last night. While I’d felt a spark of something between Remi and me since the first time we met, this experience was different — passionate and emotionally charged. It was as if the numbness that usually blanketed my life was gone, replaced with an intense connection to her.
Besides performing on stage, sex was the only thing that broke through that numbness for me. It was probably just a release of hormones, but for a few seconds, I felt something good.
Last night with Remi was different. Instead of dispassionately observing myself having sex as if from afar, going through the steps until I got my reward, it felt like I was actually present and feeling everything while it happened. It was completely different, and the difference was everything. I wanted to nudge Remi awake and have sex again, to see if it was real or if it had been some weird delusion.
I smiled to myself. Hell, I was even jonesing to call Maggie and tell her I might have had a breakthrough. For the first time, I didn’t feel numb during sex. A live wire of pleasure and emotion coursed through me with every touch of Remi’s skin. What was it about her that broke through the walls I’d built?
I’d been in therapy for years with Maggie. She’d drilled so much into my head about recovery from trauma that I could probably write a self-help book. The problem was that I hadn’t truly embraced any of the advice. My preferred method of dealing with it was to ignore it, but that didn’t always work.
Emotional blunting, Maggie called it. It had been my way of coping with the trauma as a child and it had carried over into my everyday life, creating a sense of emptiness and disconnect from the rest of the world. But that numbness had been far better than all the other crushing shit that I felt — like anxiety, helplessness, confusion, and even anger mixed in with a touch of guilt about Adam.
Maggie told me over and over that accepting what happened to me was the first step to healing. I always thought I’d accepted it, but if I hadn’t actually told her the whole story after years of therapy, maybe I hadn’t really acknowledged or accepted it. I’d kept the sexual abuse locked inside me like a vault until I’d opened up to Remi last night.
Suddenly, I was feeling different. Could it really be that easy? There was no way, but the Valium I’d taken had cleared my system and yet I didn’t have that weight of dread clinging to me as I thought about my past. I wasn’t drowning in anxiety.
I thought back to some of my sessions with Maggie. She’d told me that keeping trauma a secret could reinforce the feeling of shame that was associated with it. By simply retelling the story, distress was lessened and we could begin to process or make sense of a senseless event. What the fuck? I felt like I was actually starting to process shit right this second, for the first time ever.
No matter how long this weird sensation lasted, it was definitely a breakthrough of sorts. I was a completely fucked up guy, and no one knew that better than me. I used drugs, alcohol, and casual sex to suppress shit. I hid from the world at the same time that I performed on stage for everyone to see. For years, I couldn’t even tell my trusted therapist about what happened to me. Then, I blurted it out to Remi, a reporter no less? Christ. But I couldn’t deny it had changed something.
I’d finally told someone my secret, and she didn’t go running from me in horror. She didn’t call me stupid for taking the abuse. I’d always been extremely ashamed of what happened. I knew it wasn’t my fault — I was just a kid — but there always existed that kernel of doubt that I could have done something more to stop it. Believing that if I never told anyone, then I’d never have to feel ashamed because no one would ever know. Yet, I’d revealed my secret, and the wave of shame never came. I dug deep, probing to see if it was lurking beneath the surface, ready to kneecap me at the worst possible moment, but I couldn’t detect it.
I propped myself up on my elbow, studying Remi’s peaceful face as she slept. Her long lashes rested gently on her cheeks, and her lips were slightly parted, revealing a hint of a smile. I wondered if merely just revealing my dark secret to Remi made me feel a stronger connection to her or if there was something special about her. My heart stuttered at the notion, a rare moment of vulnerability and connection washing over me.
“Hey, beautiful,” I whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. She didn’t stir, but the smile on her lips deepened ever so slightly. I couldn’t help but grin in response; even in her sleep, she had this inexplicable hold on me.
I continued to observe her, my mind drifting back to the night we shared. A night where she’d seen the real me and accepted it — something I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. It was as if Remi had unlocked a door within me, and I wasn’t quite sure how to handle the emotions that flooded through.
She murmured in her sleep, snuggling closer to me. I tightened my embrace around her, waiting for this strange, happy feeling to dissipate.
The sound of Remi’s breathing shifted, and I sensed the change in her consciousness even before her eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she gazed at me with a tender expression that made my chest ache.
Then I watched as a guarded wariness seeped into her eyes. “Good morning.”
I was tense — fearing her reaction and unsure how I should act. My emotions were raw. Just feeling anything at all felt strange. They felt like a new pair of shoes — stiff and uncomfortable. “Hey, Remi.”
She slowly pulled out of my arms. “Wow, this is ... I’ll just grab my things and get out of your hair.”
I let her go, immediately missing the feeling of her skin against mine. “No hurry.”
She sat up stiffly, dragging the sheets up to cover herself. I knew a gentleman would look away, but I certainly wasn’t about to.
