His To Shatter Page 6

  “Not such,” I slurred. “Not much.”

  “Who’s your friend?” he asked, glaring over my shoulder.

  “Oh, this is Ryan!” I said, reeling back toward my blonde buddy. I saw a rather mean look pass between them, and decided to ignore it. “We were just leaving,” I told Kyle.

  “Were you?” Kyle said.

  “Yeah,” Ryan replied. “Does she have to ask your permission first?”

  “Of course not,” Kyle said, crossing his arms. “I just wanted to make sure that Madison was thinking her decision through.”

  “Oh, totally,” I said, wanting Kyle to drop that nasty look off his face and join the fun. “We’re going to go back to Ryan’s place!”

  “Is that really what you want to do?” Kyle insisted.

  “Yeah!” I said happily.

  “Madison,” Kyle went on. “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink. You might not be thinking as clearly—”

  “You heard her, man,” Ryan said, tightening his grip around my waist. “Let it go, OK?”

  “My friend’s safety isn’t something I’m going to just ‘let go’, pal,” Kyle said. I could sense the tension sparking between them.

  “Kyle, it’s OK,” I said, moving past him. “I’m totally fine!”

  He looked at me sadly as I left with Ryan, but I couldn’t worry about Kyle’s feelings just then. I was having way too much fun to let it get spoiled by his lingering crush, anyway. Ryan helped me up the steep staircase, and we finally stepped out into the open air. I was glad to have someone escorting me, as I’d genuinely forgotten where we were. The city rose up around me into the night in a staggering blitz of glittering lights. It all seemed so beautiful, so amazingly unlikely, that I almost started to cry. Ryan guided me along the sidewalk, and we laughed as we went along.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Five

  * * * * *

  “I’m just around the corner,” he said.

  “Great!” I replied, high as a kite.

  He led me up another flight of stairs and through the front doorway of a building I’d never seen before. I was amazed to find that there was a real elevator in the lobby—a luxury I’d certainly never had myself in the city. We stumbled into the car together and the doors slid shut behind us. I rested my hands on Ryan’s shoulders for support and looked up into his friendly face. We gazed at each other for half a moment, and I suddenly realized that this was much more than a friendly visit. Ryan closed the space between our faces and kissed me deeply. And much to my surprise, I kissed him right back. I was not one to casually jump into bed with strangers, but that night had me feeling fearless and in want of company. I brought my teeth down lightly onto Ryan’s bottom lip, drawing a low moan from his throat. He brought his hands to the small of my back and pulled me against him. I gasped as I felt the hard bulge in the front of his pants press up against me.

  We fell back against the elevator wall, our mouths and hands moving wildly. I ran my hands through his short blonde hair, savoring the boozy taste of him. The world spun around me as I closed my eyes and trusted myself to the moment. I was utterly without fear or inhibitions, for once in my life, and I meant to make the most of it. Ryan pulled me out of the elevator as the doors chimed open and whisked me down the hall to his door. He fumbled with his keys for half a moment and wrenched the door open, all but pulling me inside.

  “Won’t your roommates be annoyed?” I asked, as he closed the door.

  “They might if I had any,” he replied.

  “You can afford to live without roommates?” I asked, amazed. “You must be loaded as hell.”

  “That’s one way of putting it,” he said, stepping back towards me. “But I don’t much feel like talking about that right now. Or anything, for that matter.”

  He kissed me again, sliding his tongue far into my mouth. I threw my arms around his shoulders and pressed my body firmly against his. I could tell from the persistent pressure against my thigh that he wanted me, and I was ready to give myself to him for the night. Some part of me, deep down, was screaming with anxiety at the prospect of sleeping with Ryan. After all, I’d only ever been with one other guy in my entire life, and that hadn’t exactly been a positive experience. What if Ryan could tell how new I was to sex? What if he laughed at me when my incompetence showed through? But that small, nay saying voice was quickly drowned out by the overwhelming and unfamiliar feeling that coursed through my body. For the first time in my life, I felt what it was to want somebody, to have somebody. I’d found men attractive in the past, but had never considered them long enough to lust after them. But it was a feeling I was more than willing to explore.

  Ryan guided me through his massive apartment, never once letting his lips leave mine. Finally, he pulled me down onto a huge, king sized bed. I landed on top of him, straddling his body. I didn’t even care that my dress was bunched up around my hips, leaving little to the imagination below the waist. I was giddy with desire, and marveled at how good it felt to be on top of this handsome man in his beautiful apartment. Feeling adventurous, I reached for the hem of my dress and attempted to pull it over my head in the sexiest way I could. But the thing was far too tight to get off in one fell swoop, and I struggled to free myself from the clingy fabric. With my dress stuck up over my head, I suffered a tiny moment of panic, feeling like an idiot and probably looking like one too. But Ryan laughed and sat up to help me. I was glad that he wasn’t one to judge a girl for being a little klutzy.

  Sitting before Ryan in my bra and panties, I felt sexier than I ever had before. He drank in the sight of me, his eyes bright with lust. I lay back against the soft comforter and waited for him to lead the way. I certainly didn’t know what I was doing, but suddenly it didn’t matter. Ryan smiled down at me, and ran his fingers along the tender skin of my inner thighs. My whole body responded to his touch, and I felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through my groin. Is this what it feels like to be turned on? I thought, amazed by the sensation. I spread my knees apart for Ryan, waiting for him to teach me what he might.

  He placed himself between my spread legs, and slowly, gently, began to tug my panties down my legs. I held my breath as the garment fell away, and I was left open and exposed to him. Ryan looked reverently down at me, and all I could focus on in my drunken state was to keep breathing.

  “Relax,” he cooed warmly, and I tried my best. I willed my muscles to unclench so that I could enjoy Ryan’s attention. Slowly, he lowered his face to my bare abdomen. He planted kiss upon kiss on the soft skin of my belly, working his way further down with each one. I grabbed onto the comforter, twisting the fabric between my fingers. His lips were sending sparks of sensation dancing through my body, and the anticipation was killing me. I’d never been treated like this before; Marc was never too keen on seeing to my pleasure, being so focused on his own.

  I gasped as Ryan’s lips brushed the skin just above my sex. What was he about to do? I felt his hands on my knees as he pushed my legs up just a hair, opening me to him even more. I looked down at him as he lowered his mouth once more, and let out a gasp as his lips touched my most intimate place. I threw my head back as the pleasure of his touch overwhelmed me. He traced his tongue along every lip and fold, exploring me, opening me. I felt an indescribable feeling building up in my very core as he licked along the length of me. What was happening to me?

  A jolt of red hot sensation burst through my body as Ryan’s tongue flicked against that very special spot that I’d heard of but never really used. I couldn’t believe the power locked up in that one tiny nub. My every cell seemed to be taken in by the pleasure that Ryan’s tongue was unleashing. He flicked and twirled the tip of his tongue around that tender little button, and my head spun as the unstoppable feeling continued to mount. I could feel my legs begin to tremble uncontrollably, and I struggled to keep them from spasming.

  “Just let go,” Ryan whispered, taking a second’s pause. “It’s OK.”

  I listened, and stopp
ed trying to control my body. Just as I let myself relax, Ryan lay an expert stroke of the tongue against me as he slid two fingers deep up into my silky wetness. The feeling that had been mounting and mounting peaked and exploded through me, flooding every nerve with an unaccountable raw pleasure. I screamed as the sensation overtook me, writhing beneath Ryan’s mouth. A sudden hot pulse from my groin surprised me, and I was alarmed to feel the fabric beneath me become wet. Oh my god, I thought frantically, Did I wet the bed?

  “I’m so glad I got to make you come,” Ryan cooed, crawling up beside me and pulling me close. I felt a cool shot of relief chase through me, knowing what had actually happened. But that relief was soon replaced by unbelieving wonder. Had I just had an orgasm? That was a first. There were so many emotions and reactions battling to be aired inside of me that I was completely overwhelmed. It was all I could do to roll onto my side and promptly pass out with Ryan’s arms wrapped around me.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Six

  * * * * *

  In what felt like the blink of an eye, glaring sunlight was beating down upon my closed eyelids. I felt myself emerging from a deep, thick sleep, struggling back to the surface of consciousness as best I could. I cracked open one swollen eye and immediately wished that I hadn’t. A sharp, stabbing pain rocked through my cranium, ricocheting off the walls of my skull and spreading through my entire body. What the hell was the matter with my body all of a sudden? Why in the world was I in so much pain.

  I let out a groan, my lips felt pasty and dry. My mouth tasted terrible, and my entire body felt fuzzy. I’d never felt so horrible in my entire life, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what was wrong. I reached for my cell phone where it should have been on my beside table, but my hand fell down upon a vast, cushy expanse of bed. I opened my eyes wider and was startled to realize that I didn’t recognize anything around me. I wasn’t in my bed at all. I wasn’t even in my own apartment! Though the pain blazing through my head was unbearable, I forced myself to look around. I immediately spotted the thick arms encircling my waist and craned my neck around to determine who they belonged to.

  My eyes fell on a blonde man with big muscles and a baby face who happened to be sleeping beside me. Suddenly, the events of the previous evening came screeching back into my mind. The bar, Ryan, stumbling home through the streets and up into some stranger’s apartment; everything suddenly made sense. My stomach turned over as I recalled what had happened once we’d gotten back here and gone to bed together. I’d let Ryan, helped Ryan, undress me. I’d spread my legs for him and let him use his mouth on me. I started to tremble, remembering the huge orgasm that had rocked through me body as he licked me. He’d made me come, right there in front of him, a total stranger.

  I felt the sudden and urgent need to cry. As quietly as I could, I rolled out from under Ryan’s arm and crawled to the side of the bed. I felt like I was going to be sick all over his lovely, soft comforter. I pulled myself to the edge and rolled off, the pain in my head beating like hammer. I’d never felt this ruined, this utterly beside myself. I looked around wildly for my clothes, sloppily throwing on the few layers I had left the house in. Luckily, Ryan slumbered on as I clothed myself. If he’d woken up, I think I would have died in shame.

  Stumbling like an idiot, I made my way to the front door of the apartment and slipped out. I didn’t wake my host, or leave a note. I didn’t even lock the door behind me. I simply ran, as fast as I could, away from the site of my irresponsible, dirty deed. The elevator seemed to take a thousand years and move at the rate of a glacier once I was inside. Finally, I made it to the front door of the building and careened out into the early morning light.

  Before I could stop it, a wave of nausea hit me like a brick wall. I leaned over the front steps, into the beautifully manicured row of shrubs, and puked. A burst of boozy mess left my body in a hurry as I retched again and again, emptying the contents of my stomach onto the greenery below. I saw an early morning dog walker pass by hurriedly, shooting me the nastiest of looks. I straightened up and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Stumbling down the steps, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirrored window of a parked car and immediately wished that I hadn’t.

  I looked like absolute hell. My elegant up-do had been reduced to a tangled, sweaty mess, hanging off my head like a dead animal. My dress was absurdly short and tight for this time of the morning, or ever really. I wobbled on the spiky points of my unfortunate heels, my toes pinched painfully into the torture devices that were my shoes. Worst of all was my face—smeared with streaks and black and red makeup, blotchy, and wearing the sorriest expression of remorse anyone had ever seen. I was an absolute mess.

  The walk back to my apartment was one of the new low points of my entire life. I could feel the stares of passersby as I made my way through the Lower East Side. Men smirked, women grimaced, and I fought back my tears as best I could. Each and every one of them knew what I’d been doing not hours before; everybody knew my own personal shame. And the knowledge of that was almost too much for me to bear. I’d never felt so ashamed in all my life, and shame was not something that I was much of a stranger to.

  After what felt like miles, I turned back onto Clinton Street and all but ran up the steps of my building. I tiptoed into my apartment, praying that no one would be awake to witness my entrance. Thankfully, my roommates were late sleepers. I ran into my bedroom and closed the door firmly behind me, snapping the lock. It wasn’t until I had thrown myself hopelessly down onto the bed that I let the pent-up sobs overtake me. I wept into my pillow on my measly little twin bed, unable to believe what I had done.

  The whole incident was horrifying to remember, but the worst part was the fact that I had been drunk the whole time. What had I been thinking, letting myself booze it up? I’d known full well what the consequences would be from the very first shot. I’d steered clear of booze throughout my entire adult life for fear of this very circumstance. Alcohol made people irresponsible, immoral, and out of control. I had to have known that I wouldn’t be the exception to that fate. If anything, I should have been more careful, given my history.

  My mind reeled back to West Chester as I lay crying on my pathetic little bed. How many nights had my father come home, stinking of booze, on the war path? I’d watched him descend from a well-liked man in the town to a fumbling, disgusting mess when he hit the bottle. His behavior and actions had been humiliating to watch, knowing that we shared even a drop of blood. I’d been appalled with him every time he came roaring through the front door, bellowing like a savage and all but beating his chest. His antics were ridiculous, but worse than that, they were harmful.

  My father had never been a violent man before the alcoholism took hold of him. He’d been aggressive and outspoken, sure, but booze turned him into an absolute monster. I could still remember the first time that he hit my mother. Having returned home from his first big bender after being fired, he rallied against her attempts to get him clean up. In a flash, he’d slapped her so hard that she fell back against the stairs. He fell upon her, wrapping his hands around her throat. I was just a stick of a kid, but I flew at him, beating my tiny fists against his back, begging him to stop. He’d only laughed and pushed me off of him, sauntering up the stairs to pass out, dead to the world. My mother and I had stared at each other, at a loss, until finally she said the words I’d never forget.

  “You’re not to tell anyone about this,” she’d said. “Your father is a good man. Never forget that. He’s just drunk, that’s all. Alcohol makes people do horrible things, sometimes. You stay away from it, you hear me? Stay away from it.”

  And I had. For years and years, I had refrained from ever experimenting with the stuff. And why should I have experimented? I didn’t need to try booze to see the effect it would have. I’d seen my father pass out on the couch enough times, slur his way through the simplest of conversations, make an ass out of himself plenty times enough to know what booze would do to me. And
I’d watched as his career and reputation had gone to pieces because of sex, too. I knew what harm sex could do to a person’s life if they weren’t careful.

  I’d gotten cocky over my new job offer and forgotten all the lessons I’d already learned so well. There was nothing to be gained from losing control of my mind and body through sex and booze. There was only shame, and heartache, and staggering hangovers to fend off the next day. I knew that it wasn’t this way for everyone. Dara and Ashlee could have all the sex they wanted, drink the nights clear away, and wake up smiling the next morning, but not me. And the sooner I accepted that truth, the better off I would be.

  I had to come to terms with the fact that sex would never be truly good for me unless I could escape the shame that went along with it. I’d never enjoyed sleeping with Marc, because he made me feel embarrassed about my body. And even though I’d enjoyed Ryan’s attentions in the moment, I knew that I’d never be able to look back on that episode with anything but shame. Because the fact of the matter was that Ryan didn’t give a damn about me as a person. He didn’t even know me as a person. Not until I actually knew somebody intimately could physical intimacy be rewarding.

  That was when I promised myself that I would wait. I would wait to have sex until I felt connected to my partner on a level that wasn’t just boozed-up lust. I would wait until I met somebody who could actually see and know me, in all my intricacies; somebody that I could know fully, without him holding anything back. That was the kind of closeness I wanted. Until then, sex could certainly wait. I’d made it far enough with sex being a part of my life, after all. No use worrying.

  My mind dipped back to recall the mind-blowing orgasm that Ryan had given me. I stopped crying for a moment, remembering how good it had been. Perhaps I could allow myself to invest in a couple of toys to get through until I met somebody worth sleeping with. I could definitely stand to show myself a little more love, if the previous night was any indication. It wasn’t the pleasure that I was ashamed of, anyway. It was acting in a way that didn’t feel real to me. I let myself imagine for a moment what it would be like to submit to someone who I actually felt connected to. That new, strange warmth spread between my legs at the mere thought of it.