FLAME (Spark Series) Page 13

  I roll my eyes at him. “ I suppose. My exception to my standard flames.” I shrug casually, hoping he doesn’t see right through me. He is my exception—the chase, the sleepovers, being a couple.

  He reaches a hand over and links our fingers together. “Good to know.”

  Our waiter returns with our meals, crusted salmon with teriyaki glaze and fresh asparagus.

  “Oh my god…this smells amazing!” I gush as I slowly inhale. “And looks delicious.”

  “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure if you liked salmon, but I just knew you had to try this.”

  The waiter refills our glasses before leaving us to our meal. It’s absolutely incredible. The food. The decorations. The view. The fact that he cared enough to plan something. The whole night—incredible.

  “So tell me about your siblings. You don’t say much about them.”

  “Well, there’s Cassia. She’s five years younger than me. She used to make me dress her dolls up for her all the time. She’s a huge pain in the arse.” He chuckles. “And then Luke. He’s the baby. Born when I was almost seventeen. But he’s six now. He’s the main reason I started working when I did. My dad ran out, but his dad couldn’t hold a steady job and we needed money.”

  “Do you resent her for it?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Not at first. But then I started missing out on school events. Weekends with my mates. It started to get hard, but I love my mum. I’ll do anything for her.”

  Unfortunately, I don’t know that feeling, but I nod along anyway.

  “She’s doing much better now. Cassia’s eighteen and moving away to college next fall.”

  “Do you miss them? Do you speak to them at all?”

  “I miss them so much. I never thought it’d be this hard. I wanted to go back my sophomore year because I was homesick, but my mother talked me into staying. She was right.” He pauses, thinking about what to say next. “I need this. To relive what I was unable to do in high school. Although, it’s not exactly the same, I’m glad I stayed.”

  I smile up at him. “Me, too. Plus it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, right?”

  He nods slowly. “Right.”

  “So what will you do when you return? Look for jobs?”

  “I’ll find a job, but probably not in my field right away. Or maybe grad school. I guess it just depends,” he responds honestly.

  It’s hard to read what he means by that, but I let it go for now.

  “So now that we’ve dug into my background, you’re up.” He winks.

  “I don’t think you can handle mine.” I widen my eyes. “I can hardly handle mine.”

  “I wanna know,” he says sincerely. “I want to know anything you’re willing to tell me. Everything.”

  I finish chewing my food and set my fork down quietly. For the first time in a long time, I let myself think about my past—parents, one-night stands, Mr. Brox. The thoughts clutter my mind one by one, making it entirely too overwhelming.

  “I’m a whore,” I spit out. “Well, I was a whore. I willingly took any guy who let me. I’ve had a lot of one-night stands, a lot of random hook-ups, a lot of emotionless sex. And it’s probably because I never felt loved as a child, or some psychology bullshit, but it’s all I’ve ever known. It was best to stay guarded, so I could control my feelings. As long as I never felt anything, I wasn’t at risk of being hurt. I wasn’t at risk of not being loved like I hadn’t been my entire childhood. I guess if you want to break it down, that would be it,” I reply honestly. For the first time, it all makes sense to me. I always said it was because I enjoyed sex, which I do, but it was so much more than that. He continues looking at me, with no judgment whatsoever, so I go on. “My parents were horrible—are horrible. I haven’t seen them in over five years. We don’t talk. I hate them. My entire life was based on hate, rage, and resentment. Velaney’s the only person in the whole world who I love and who loves me back. She’s always been my constant, and now…it’s really hard to have her gone. I mean, not gone gone, but not in my everyday life. It’s hard not having that after all this time.”

  And now she’s married and pregnant. Living the American Fairytale.

  “This is where you normally say something,” I spit out nervously since he’s been silent this entire time.

  “Sorry,” he whispers. “I just can’t help admiring you. Your strength…courage…independence. You grew up never feeling secure or loved. Most people would’ve ended up a lot worse than you.” I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be a compliment, but I let him continue. “Seriously, Carissa. Everything you just said makes complete sense. You used sex as a way to have control and independence. It was the only way you knew how. And honestly, it’s completely understandable.”

  “So, you don’t think I’m a whore anymore?” I smirk.

  “I never thought you were a whore. I’m still a guy. A guy who appreciates a woman enjoying sex.”

  I laugh at him. “You pervert.”

  The waiter interrupts and offers to collect our plates. It’s not long before he returns with dessert.

  “Ooh…cherry cheesecake.” I admire, grabbing the top cherry and popping it into my mouth.

  “Looks like I’m 3 and 0 tonight.” He grins.

  “You’re very good at this.” I smirk. “The wine. The dinner. And now dessert. It’s sensational.”

  “Will it make me sound like a girl if I told you it took me weeks to plan this?” He grabs his fork and digs into his own dessert.

  “Nah…l can appreciate that.” I wink.

  We slip into playful banter, talking about random things and getting to know each other better. Being with Drew is easy. It’s simple. There are no uncomfortable silences or awkward goodbyes. For the past few months, our relationship has been merely sexual, but now it’s turned into so much more—something emotional and chemical. I go to bed thinking about him and wake up thinking about when I’ll be seeing him again. Surprisingly, we haven’t even spent more than a few days apart before seeing each other again. It’s a routine that I didn’t even realize had formed.

  Once dinner is over, a few men stalk toward us with violins and music stands. “You didn’t?” I face Drew scowling at him.

  “Of course I did. I wanted to follow all the American traditions of cheesy Valentine’s Day dates.”

  “Well, you’re succeeding. This is right up there with I heart you candy hearts and big boxes of chocolate.”

  “Oh, hey. Don’t dismiss them yet. I haven’t given you your gifts.” He smirks. I laugh with him as I think of my own gift I got for him.

  “Well, if I do it right, my gift to you will be the only one that really counts.”

  He shivers at my words. “I knew it was just a matter of time before the real kinky you came out.”

  I brush a hand over his arm. “You have no idea.”

  The band begins playing and Drew takes my hand in his. “Dance with me.”

  As much as I want to roll my eyes at this whole romantic evening, I can’t help smiling like a fool. It’s something out of a Nicholas Sparks movie—the intimate dining, the food and champagne, the lights and music—the old me would be hating every second of it, but right now, I can’t imagine a better way to spend the night with Drew. It truly is magical.

  We dance well into the night, enjoying the music and lights. I want to cherish every moment of it—every moment with Drew. I’ve never experienced anything like this, and I want to make sure I never forget.

  “This is really nice,” I whisper as he glides our bodies together.

  “I’m glad you approve.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “You know, I’m not always a hard shell. I do appreciate all the thought and effort that went into this.”

  He leans in and gently kisses my lips. I part them, inviting him in, but he pulls back. “I know. And I’m glad to see you’re finally breaking down your walls for me.”

  “Yeah…it hasn’t been easy.”

  “I’m sure it hasn’t,” he responds g
enuinely. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you?”

  “For allowing me in. For giving me a chance. For being you—beautiful—on the inside and out, for letting me fight for you, for giving me a reason to fight for you. It’s been a hundred and ten percent worth it.” He smiles so wide, a small dimple forms in his right cheek. It’s so damn adorable, and I find myself in deep with this boy.

  I seem to forget everything when I’m around Drew—forget he’ll soon be leaving, forget to keep my guard up—to not let him in. Instead, I do it willingly. Drew’s been the first and only guy I’ve ever wanted more with.

  “Are you ready to go home? I have my gift to show you yet.”

  He leans in and whispers, “So fucking ready.”

  * * *

  We’re a tangled mess of limbs as we rush to pull each other’s clothing off. I slam him into the wall, ripping buttons off and unzipping his jeans. Our lips are glued together, hardly breaking to take in a breath.

  Soon, we’re completely undressed, making our way to my bedroom. I trip and stumble on shoes left on the floor before he lands on top of me on the bed.

  “Oops.” I giggle as he catches me. I feel him smile against my mouth as he continues kissing me. “Are you ready for your gift?”

  “I thought you were giving me my gift right now.” He grins.

  “It’s part of it, yes. But you need to find it,” I explain.

  “Ooh…this could be fun.” He slides down my smooth skin, kissing my chest and making his way down. “Is it a new tattoo?”

  “Nope.”

  He brings his mouth back up to my neck and sucks before asking, “Is it…shiny?”

  I smirk as I figure out the game he’s playing. “Yes.”

  “Is it a new toy I get to play with?”

  I think for a moment before responding. “I guess you could play with it.”

  He cups my breasts with both of his hands, squeezing hard. “Fucking hell, Doll. You’re killing me,” he growls.

  “Don’t tell me big the strong football player is giving up?”

  He pulls a nipple in between his teeth aggressively, making me yelp out in surprise. “Drew!”

  “I don’t like games, remember?”

  “It’s not a game, I promise. Go…lower and you’ll find it,” I direct, laying helpless on the bed as his full body consumes me.

  He grabs my hips as he lowers himself, kissing down my stomach, and around my belly button. His hands spread my legs open, revealing a brand new clit piercing.

  “Bloody hell.” I watch as his eyes widen at my newest addition. “That’s going to make me come before I even get inside you.”

  He kisses the inside of my thigh, slowly making his way to my pussy. I’m on edge as I wait for him to suck on it, feeling the sensation for the first time. I’ve been anticipating it for the past few days as I let it heal, but now…now it’s game on.

  “Stop torturing me.”

  “I’m just getting you ready, Doll.” He kisses the outside of my pussy, still not giving me what I need.

  I’m ready…so fucking ready.

  I squeeze my hands in his hair, forcing his head to move where I want it. I hear him laughing as he accepts my orders.

  “I can’t wait to tie you up later,” is the last thing he says before diving in.

  “Oh my god…” My eyes roll to the back of my head as my eyelashes flutter from the intense sensation riveting through me. He takes the piercing in his mouth and rolls his tongue over it gently, making me quiver. I fist his hair harder, demanding he take me completely.

  I’m eager to feel what sex is going to be like with the piercing, but as Drew’s per usual, he spends an eternity down south making sure I’ve been fully sucked.

  “Inside…now,” I pant, digging my nails into the sheets for leverage as his mouth gets more and more aggressive. “Please.”

  I feel him stand up, leaving me breathless on the edge of the bed. I hear him walk to my drawer of toys before returning.

  “I wasn’t kidding about tying you up,” he says seriously. “But I have a gift for you of my own.”

  My eyes pop open as he holds a flogger in his hands. “What the hell is that?”

  “I’m surprised you don’t know.” He grins.

  “I know what that is,” I fire back. “What the hell are you doing with it?”

  It isn’t that I don’t enjoy toys, or even some good rough sex, but I’m usually the one controlling the scene. There have been times in the past that a guy had wanted to use toys, but I always had the pleasure of using it on them, never the other way around.

  “We’re going to try something new,” he explains. And because I trust him, I let him continue. “Turn around, face down,” he orders. It’s strange being on the other end of this, but at the same time, it’s getting me more fired up than ever.

  I comply and lay on my stomach in the middle of the bed. I feel it dip as his body towers over mine. I hear him wrestle in the nightstand again, this time clinking handcuffs as he pulls them out.

  “Put your hands behind your back,” he demands. I do as he says and let him handcuff me. He grabs one pillow and places it under my head, giving my face somewhere to rest. He then takes another pillow and puts it under my hips, arching my back up higher.

  He then puts the blindfold over me, adjusting my hair and making sure I can’t see. I’m surprised he doesn’t put the gag in my mouth, but rather he continues digging around in my drawer, pulling stuff out.

  He grabs my legs and bends them back, laying against my hands. “Shit, you’re flexible,” he growls. He adjusts the pillow, making sure it’s aligned just right.

  I should feel completely exposed and vulnerable right now, but the truth is, I don’t. I feel totally comfortable in my own skin around him. I know he’ll take care of me, and I trust anything he does.

  He lightly brushes the flogger up and down my spine. It’s feels feather-light as he brushes it over my hands and legs, but it’s enough to make me body shudder from the sensation.

  Giving in to Drew is turning out to be more exhilarating than I ever thought possible. One-by-one, he has broken down my walls, gained my trust, and made me realize what I’ve been missing all these years. And most importantly, he’s taught me…love. It might not have been the insta-love I’ve read in my novels, or even falling over myself to get to him kind of love, rather it’s a love for myself. To truly allow someone in, I’ve had to love myself enough to know I’m worthy of his love.

  “Drew, baby…I need you,” I moan, desperately pleading for him to get inside me.

  I hear him throw the flogger and align himself with my entrance. I feel him enter, leaning deeper into me as my body openly welcomes him. He brings his lips to my ear, kissing and sucking hard on the lobe.

  “You look fucking perfect like this,” he whispers. My eyes roll to the back of my head again as his accent rolls off his tongue. I’ll never get sick of hearing him talk. However, hearing him whisper in my ear during sex…is enough to make me explode on command.

  “Go as deep as you can,” I beg. Being in this position, with my hands behind my back and my legs bent back, gives him the perfect opportunity to pound hard into me.

  He complies, grabbing my hips and digging himself deeper inside me. The piercing adds in an even more intense sensation. It rubs against my clit as his cock thrusts in and out of me. It stimulates my nerves, giving me a more intense orgasm. It’s not long before we’re both screaming out in ecstasy, enjoying each thrust he pounds into me.

  “Fucking hell.” He rolls off me and pants on the bed. He gently takes the blindfold off. I turn and face him, getting a good look at his flushed face. “I don’t know how you do that to me every time.” He brushes my hair out of my face and lays a single kiss on my nose. “But you do.”

  15

  One month later

  I’ve been a first-class witness to Velaney and Eric’s relationship since the beginning. It’s ironic to think how much she’s bee
n through, how much he stood by her, and how much I pushed her to the realization that it was okay to let Eric in—that it was okay to let him love her. Yet, here I am, fighting my own battle.

  It’s Sunday night and even though Laney isn’t here, I keep up with our old movie night routine. I tell Drew I’m busy tonight, as I just need a night to myself.

  I begin a Cruel Intentions marathon and make a bag of popcorn. It reminds me how Laney used to tease me for enjoying this movie so much. I’d argue it was because of Ryan Phillippe, but truthfully, it was so much more than that. For some reason, I needed to know that I wasn’t the only fucked up person in this world and watching this movie helped me realize that. It validated that it was okay to want sex without relationships.

  But now as I watch it this time, I feel differently. I don’t connect with Ryan’s character, Sebastian. I loathe him, actually. I even feel sorry for him. By the time he realizes what he feels for Reece’s character, Annette, it’s almost too late.

  I can’t help but see the similarities between the movie and my own life. The more I push people away, the more I’m bound to end up like Sebastian—dying with regret.

  I pass out on the sofa and wake up bright and early as the sun rises. I have the day off, so I decide to do some cleaning. It always helps clear my mind, and that’s exactly what I need right now.

  I begin with organizing the living room—folding the blankets, vacuuming the floor, dusting the furniture. I crank the tunes and dance around as I pick up.

  I open the coat closet and notice a few extra things. Drew’s jacket, boots, and bag. What the hell did he go home in? I look at them and try to think of when he could’ve left these here. I shrug it off and close the door.

  Next, I go to my bathroom and start sweeping. I grab the cleaner and spray down the countertop and sink. I open up a drawer to throw my brushes back in when I notice more of Drew’s things—a toothbrush, razor, comb, and cologne. I grab the bottle and bring it to my nose, inhaling Drew’s scent.

  I had no idea he was leaving his things here. And I’m not sure how to feel about it. On one hand, it makes complete sense—he’s always here. On the other, it’s almost as if he’s moving in—something I’ve never allowed or even been close to allowing before.