Distractions (21 page)

brought me to the full realization I was

no longer sleeping. The anchorman was

now

talking

about

the

upcoming

Bronco’s game this afternoon. I lay still,

pretending not to be awake, yet, slowly

absorbing

everything

around

me.

Overwhelmed by the realization of

current circumstances, tears pooled in

the corner of my eyes before running out

and down my cheeks. The sob in my gut

refused to remain subdued, climbing out

of it with ferocity. I grabbed the sides of

the pillow and flipped onto my stomach,

forcing my face deep into the mattress to

release a muffled scream.

A set of warm hands gently touched

my shoulders, testing my reaction to their

presence. Every muscle in my body

became rigid, attempting to force the

agony from its fibers. It was the feeling

of wanting to crawl out of your skin

because you are crying so hard it hurts.

“Breathe, Violet, breathe…” I was

starting to hyperventilate when I felt

Connor slide his arms around me and

grip firmly. One hand gently wiped the

hair away from my drenched forehead as

he whispered calmly, “Breathe, shh…

it’s going to be okay, I’m here.”

The anger resurfaced at his

coddling actions. “I’m not a child, get

off me!” I wrestled against him out of his

strong grip that loosened immediately.

Making my way to the edge of the bed,

the pain in between my legs reminded

me of why he was here. I rubbed the

now fading marks on my wrist gently and

closed my eyes to focus on making sense

of something, anything. I allowed the

rush of anger to roll over me and away. I

swung my legs back up on the bed and

gently maneuvered onto my side to face

him. Appearing pensive, he was waiting

for me to speak. I couldn’t see how I

could be any more vulnerable than in

this moment, but rather than fighting, I let

go.

“I’m sorry, Connor.” More tears

began to pour the longer I looked at his

face. Letting myself finally take him in,

the walls began to crumble. Every good

and bad memory ran like a film in fast

forward through my mind. He reached

his hand slowly over to my face,

cradling the side, and rubbed his thumb

under my puffy eyes. I reached up to

match his motions, running my fingers

along his eyebrows and jawbones.

Pinching his chin and pulling down

slightly to create a movement in his

bottom lip, I used my silliest puppet

voice, “It’s okay, Violet, I know you are

crazy.”

A brilliant smile lit up his face

before furrowing his brows at me. “You

are not crazy, just lost right now.” He

kissed my hand that rested on his cheek

after speaking the words that finally

allowed in some light.

Rising up off the bed, Connor

walked to a tray sitting on the dresser

where I could see a carafe of orange

juice and a silver pot holding coffee.

“You need food, coffee and two of

these.” He tossed a small white bottle of

ibuprofen at me, which I did not hesitate

to open and swallowed two.

I crawled off the bed to see what he

had ordered from room service. There

was toast, bacon, oatmeal and a fruit

plate. Normally, I don’t eat much after a

night of binge drinking, but my body

reminded me I had physically pushed

myself beyond a normal cardio session. I

poured a cup of black coffee and picked

up a piece of bacon to nosh on as I

wandered over to the window. I had

requested a view of the large pond and

Cheyenne Mountain, and I could see the

Will Rodgers Shrine from here, as well

ducks following the visiting children

who were feeding them pieces of bread.

I turned around to Connor who was

sitting in the armchair, holding his

steaming cup with both hands. Wearing

only his boxers, my eyes drifted towards

the deep wound on his shoulder, then

reflexively reached up to my own battle

scar.

“So what all did I tell you last

night?” Part of me was curious, the other

part horrified at what I could have

revealed.

He joined me next to the window

and looked out for a moment before

answering me. “I know why you’re here,

and I’m sorry.” Pausing for a moment, a

smile crept over his face. “I also know

you haven’t been with anyone in a really

long time, but you still have an IUD.” He

chuckled at that last part.

I could feel the heat rising in my

cheeks. “Oh, and what else?”

His expression mirrored the fact I

was on the brink of falling apart again. I

watched as he set his coffee cup down

on the ledge and took mine as well. His

eyes became hyper focused looking

down at me while his fingers combed

through my hair, holding my head in

place. His facial stubble rubbed roughly

against my cheeks, gliding across as his

lips made their way to my ear. A shiver

ran down my spine at how my body

obediently reacted to his touch.

“I know how much you still love

me buried deep inside of you.”

He pulled me close to him as his

teeth and tongue gently explored the

outer shell of my ear, tugging on the

bottom lobe. I laced my fingers behind

his neck to prevent from melting into the

floor. Breaking the embrace just long

enough to look into my eyes, seeking

confirmation I was okay, he smiled

before crashing into my lips. “Mmm, you

taste like bacon…” I laughed. “Well,

baby, since you love pig so much, how

about some breakfast sausage?”

Jumping up to wrap my legs around

his waist, he carried me back to the bed,

setting me down gently on my back.

Unlacing the robe belt with his teeth, I

continued to giggle at his enthusiasm. I

stopped with a gasp when I felt his

tongue run up the swollen heat between

my thighs; I grabbed the sheets beneath

me, trying not to clamp my legs around

his head. His expert fingers found the

sensitive pink bud that seemed to control

every nerve in my body, yet I decided to

be selfish and forced myself not to come

too quickly.

Two fingers slipped inside of me,

finding the soft pad of flesh that

governed another set of nerve endings.

You would swear he paid extra attention

in anatomy class with the way he

manipulated my body. A few minutes

later, my back arched quickly off the bed

and began wiggling around to get away

from the exquisite torture. Both of his

hands grabbed my hips to pull me closer,

not backing down and ensuring every

part of me was going to be spent. My

hands grabbed fistfuls of hair and pulled

hard, demanding him to stop. As he

slowly rose, kissing my stomach and

chest on a leisure return to my lips, I

whined quietly, “Please.”

Languid motions of his tongue

circled my jaw and neck. Pressing his

length against me forced my hips up in

hunger.

“I’m in no hurry. I have dreamed of

this many times; I plan on enjoying every

moment, Vy.” I began to softly protest as

he painfully dragged himself back and

forth, smiling down at me with a deviant

glimmer in his eyes. He knew he was

driving me crazy; he wanted me writhing

beneath him, begging to stroke his ego. I

could play this game, too. I went limp

below him, turning my head to the side,

looking uninterested, searching the room

for something else to focus my attention

on. My breathing became level, my skin

unresponsive to his touch. Knowing I

was playing a game, too, his mouth

found my nipple and bit down

aggressively, yet, still he did not elicit a

response. He climbed off me and pulled

his boxers back on as I remained

unmoved.

“Ha-ha, I won,” I chimed in

victory.

He quickly turned and pounced on

me, hiking my legs above his shoulders.

“Oh really, did you now?” he replied

sarcastically while pulling down his

boxers and entering me with one swift,

deep thrust, causing me to cry out loudly.

“Was this a contest?” He leaned down

further, pressing my legs against my

chest, almost curling me into a ball.

My mouth dropped open as I turned

my face to the side, processing the

feeling of him inside me so deeply.

Small moans purred out of me with

every movement of his hips. This was

new; this was different. Never before

did I ever crave the feeling of being

devoured completely by another person.

This was how I felt – wholly consumed.

His lips feverishly found mine, reading

my thoughts. I ran my hands along his

back, dragging my nails lightly. Gripping

the backs of his thighs tightly, I

encouraged him forward, giving me

something other than darkness to share

this moment with.

“Why do you have that grin all of a

sudden?” Connor asked.

I

paused

for

a

moment,

remembering every chromatic moment.

“I dreamed about us this morning.”

Lifting his brows, he smiled. “Oh

yeah?”

Shaking my head at the fact that his

mind instantly went dirty, I elaborated.

“No, the day at the bridge, and that night.

It was as if I was reliving it. We were

supposed to be married by now, and you

were going to build me a little house. I

had forgotten all about it.” The memory

also made me incredibly sad, looking at

him now, forcing me to turn my head

back to the window.

Tracing my shoulder with his

fingertips, he quietly said, “It’s not too

late, you know.”

Chapter 20 -

Coming Clean

“I want you to stay with me while

you’re here.”

His

eyes

searched

while

I

contemplated the request. I watched the

corners of his mouth form a frown when

I did not answer right away.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea for

several reasons.”

Connor blew out an exasperated

breath. If these past few hours showed

me

anything,

my

reluctance

was

entertaining. “Get it out, Vy. I know it’s

killing you. I can see it all over your

face.”

His casualty of this subject

unnerved me. Watching him place his

arms behind his head and look at me

impatiently caused an internal switch to

flip. I would have liked to blame my

response on the remaining alcohol in my

system, but honestly, it was the anger

resurfacing. I felt my fingers curl into a

fist before I was able to stop it from

making contact with Connor’s nose.

Blood started to pour immediately as he

jumped out of the bed, backing away

from me.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

He stormed off into the bathroom,

slamming the door behind him. I could

hear the obscenities as they repeated

through the sound of running water. My

hand started to pulse, so I tried gently

shaking it to relieve some of the pain.

Looking back on to the bed, I saw the

new crimson splatters mingled with the

stains from last night. I now had an

excuse to avoid an excessive cleaning

charge. Bloody noses were extremely

messy; I could blame it on the dry winter

air.

I tried detaching myself in order to

calm down, but I knew it was just a brief

moment. The second he opened the door,

I would be smack dab in the face of a

fight. I heard the knob twist and mentally

prepared my attack. The adrenaline

coursing through my veins came to an

abrupt halt at the sight of the man in the

doorway. There was no rebuttal waiting.

He leaned against the door with his

shoulder, holding a cloth to his face with