“Thank you, Liz,” he whispered there, “I promise you won’t regret it.” I believed him. But we still needed to clarify what being in a committed relationship meant.
“Cole,” I called him quietly. He opened his eyes to look at me. “Your words are beautiful. And I believe you mean every single thing you said. I do. What concerns me is that you are used to women throwing themselves at you. I wasn’t allowed to act on my jealousy before, but if you’re mine, you need to know that I will not stand back and let them touch you. I get just as jealous as you do, but it’s worse. I
had
to watch you with other girls, whereas you have never really seen me with another guy. I don’t have to imagine. I have the visual, probably in more detail than you think I do. So I think it will be harder for me to keep my shit together when those skanks go after you. What I need you to do is make it clear to them that you are off-limits. Don’t get me wrong, I can fight my own battles when it’s necessary, but I won’t tolerate you giving them mixed signals or the wrong idea. You need to make it very clear that you are not interested and won’t ever go there again. And you need to tone down your jealousy of other men. Going out with you is not gonna be fun if you’re this growly beast who does nothing but stare down other men and piss all over me.”
His face was serious while he listened to me. When he answered, he squeezed my hand in his again.
“I can promise you I will make it clear to everyone I’m off the market,” he said without hesitation, “and I’ll try to control my jealousy, but I can’t make any promises there. You’re right. I never had to watch you with another man and I’m very grateful for that, but I’ve got a vivid imagination when it comes to you.” His serious face turned into a teasing one when he continued, “Maybe once I’ve claimed you completely and made love to you, that will help, but I doubt it.”
I shivered at the thought of him making love to me. I didn’t like the idea of waiting, though I did understand why he thought it was necessary. His smile was almost predatory now and it made my womb flutter in anticipation. That was also something that concerned me, though, and I had to be honest with him about it.
I took a sip of my water with my free hand and realized that it was shaking. This was embarrassing.
“Baby?” Cole asked. He must have noticed my nervousness.
“Uhm…” I didn’t know how to say this.
Just rip it off like a bandaid
.
“I’m not good at the sex thing,” I blurted a little too loud, the words tripping over each other. Cole startled and looked at me in shock.
“You’re not good at the sex thing?” he asked like that was a foreign concept to him, which it probably was. All I could do was nod.
“Liz, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I need a little more than that,” he prompted. I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to go into detail. This was embarrassing enough.
“You know. Sex.” That was all I said.
“Yeah, beautiful, I know what sex is,” he was trying to suppress a smile.
This wasn’t funny.
“Sex, Cole. I’m not good at it.” I was being clear. What was there not to understand?
“That’s hard to believe.” He thought I was joking? Guess I had to spell it out for him.
“Okay, I’ll be
clearer
. I’ve had orgasms during sex, but it always took a lot of work, and in my experience, men get impatient with that. It has been indicated to me that I can be cold and stiff, that I’m not active enough, nor can I let myself go enough to enjoy sex and make my partners enjoy it. There, is that enough detail for you?” I was annoyed and pissed that he had made me say it.
“Hold on a second.” I was so absorbed in my snit I hadn’t seen the change in his demeanor. He wasn’t amused now. He was angry.
“Nobody has ever managed to make you lose yourself during sex and then they blamed that shit on you? Are you kidding me?” Confused by his question and his obvious anger, I shook my head. Cole swore under his breath then focused on me again.
“Liz, if the way you kiss is any indication as to how hot you are going to burn for me, sex with you is going to be off the charts. Those guys you had sex with were assholes and shit in bed. I’m not gonna lie. I like the fact that you have never burned hot for anyone. That means you’re gonna be mine even more. What I don’t like is that you took that shit on yourself. If a man can’t make a woman let go enough to enjoy herself, it’s on him. Not on her. Shit, Liz! You are off the charts hot and you don’t even know it. When I saw you in that dress tonight, my dick was about to explode. Nobody has ever turned me on like you do, Liz. And you haven’t even touched me yet.”
Wow. That made me feel kinda proud. But he wasn’t done.
“Shit! Now it makes total sense. You really don’t see it when men look at you, do you?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Not really.”
He studied me. I could see the wheels in his head spinning. Then it looked like it clicked and he swore again under his breath.
“Fucking hell, baby, your fucking mother really did a number on you. And me being an asshole with my head up my ass probably didn’t help matters.”
What the hell was he talking about? His hand was squeezing mine hard as he was looking down at the table, shaking his head. I had no idea where this was coming from or where it was heading. “What do you mean?”
He looked up at me and lost it a little. “Your fucking mother and those fucking bitches in that fucking town. How they treated you like trash and told you that you were worthless. How many times did I find you crying because they were mean to you? How many times did the other kids in town make fun of you? I thought I was protecting you, helping you through it, but I see now that they still got to you. And then me being a jackass led you to believe you weren’t pretty enough for me. Fucking hell!” His voice was getting a little loud and people were starting to stare. I hushed him and he talked more quietly.
“Liz, you are the most beautiful woman I know, inside and out. You are honest and loyal and brave and strong. God, you’re so strong. You’re a fighter. A survivor. Nothing and nobody can beat you down. It makes me so fucking proud of you. Outside of our shitty hometown, has anyone you ever met not loved you? You don’t have a lot of friends, but the few you have, you are close to, your colleagues love working with you, the kids you work with are protective of you. That boy that interrupted us today in your office to check on you?” I nodded when he didn’t proceed. “He saw me when I came in and clocked me right away. He knows I can take him easily, but he didn’t care. He would have taken me on if I had upset you in any way. Lizzy, don’t you see? I know you had a shit childhood, but that’s not on you. It’s on your mother. She is a selfish bitch who was too drunk or stoned to realize what she had in you. People weren’t mean to you because you were trash, honey, they were mean to you because they knew you were better than them. You were better than them even though you grew up the way you did, and they hated that. And those guys you were with knew you were out of their league, but they blamed their shortcomings on you to make themselves feel better. And I know you don’t believe me, but wherever you go men notice you, notice your class. There aren’t a lot of women out there who are the total package, but you have it all and men see that and want it. I’ve got it now and I swear to God I will make you see it, too.”
I was speechless.
Completely and totally speechless.
Did he really think all that about me?
Was that how people saw me?
Strong? Loyal? Classy? Good?
That couldn’t be.
There were a lot of people I rubbed the wrong way. True, they usually had a problem with my being straight-forward and blunt to the point of being rude. I hated it when people played games and didn’t want those people in my life anyway, but still. It kinda stung when they talked about me behind my back. Were they mean to me because they thought I was better than them? That was something I couldn’t fathom. I had never seen myself as being better than anyone, had always thought that I was just different and maybe not good enough and that’s why I didn’t fit in. And my mother. Yes, it hurt when she told me I was worthless. It still did. Of course, it did. Your parents are supposed to love you, no matter what. Mine didn’t love me. I don’t know who my father is. He took off before I was born. And my mother had always hated me. There must be something wrong with me if they can’t love me. Right? It was confusing. I didn’t understand, couldn’t make any sense of it.
“I don’t get it,” I told Cole.
“No, honey, you don’t. But you will. I’ll make sure of that.”
Okay, we needed to change the subject. I was done with the heavy. But Cole apparently wasn’t.
“One more thing, Liz. You told me what you needed from me, so now I’ll tell you what I need from you.”
Oh, boy.
“You’re strong. And I am proud you are. What I need you to promise me, though, is that you don’t retreat into your head when something is wrong. I know you and have watched you do it hundreds of times. When you’re hurt or confused or upset, you lock yourself in that head of yours to not feel anything. It’s almost like you have a switch in your brain that shuts everything out and pushes it far down. I’m not gonna let you do that. I want you to talk to me when something is wrong so we can figure it out together. Don’t push me away or freeze me out.”
I nodded hesitantly.
That’s exactly what I did, exactly how I dealt with difficult situations that threatened to overwhelm me. Shut everything out so I didn’t have to feel. I had done that since I could remember. All my life. I could see that that was something I would have to work on, though. To let Cole in.
“I’ll try,” I assured him. I would, but I couldn’t promise him that it would work. But I would try for him. I didn’t want to freeze him out when I got my feelings hurt, but I had never learned any other coping mechanisms. I knew they existed. Had studied all the theories in college. Hell, I made my kids at the shelter talk to me, and they did, and I gave them advice and steered them in the right direction, but it’s different when it’s yourself. Guess that makes me a hypocrite as well.
Cole nodded in understanding. “All right,” he said, “that’s all I can ask. Enough with the heavy. Let’s eat and then maybe get a drink somewhere and then make out on your doorstep.” That made me smile.
Something to look forward to.
I wanted more, needed more, but the stubborn ass wouldn’t budge. I tore my mouth from his and went to work on his back, roaming my hands over his muscles under his jacket while I kissed and nibbled his neck. His head fell back and he groaned. Yes! I was getting somewhere. His hands had been at my hips the whole time during our make-out session and it was frustrating. My body was longing for his touch. My nipples were hard, my breasts were swollen and heavy, and my panties were wet. All that just from kissing. And from his body pressed into mine.
Incredible.
I was determined to make him break his no-sex-on-the-first-date rule when my hands wandered down to his behind and pulled him into my heat at the same time I lifted my left leg to wrap it around his thigh. For one glorious moment, I could feel his hardness against me when he ground against my sex as he grabbed my thigh and pulled it up higher.
Then he was gone.
I blinked in shock, feeling the coldness he left behind on my exposed skin.
He was standing three feet away from me by the railing, hands at the back of his neck, head leaned back, face towards the sky, eyes closed tight, breathing hard.
I waited.
And waited.
But he didn't move other than his inhaling and exhaling making his chest puff out.
I was breathing hard, too, but stopped altogether when he tipped his head down and opened his eyes to look at me. There was a need so desperate I felt it touching me. A want so frantic it bordered on dangerous. But instead of it scaring me, it only aroused me further and I let out a small whimper.
Cole cursed. “Fuck, baby, I want you so bad it hurts.”
I whimpered again.
His hands let go of his neck and landed on his hips as he started pacing for a good minute, then stopped again in front of me. He was close, but he wasn’t touching me. When I lifted my hands to touch him, he intercepted them, pulling them straight down my side, our fingers interlaced.
“I can see you want this just as badly as I do. But I need to walk away tonight. It’s important to me, Liz.” He was asking for my help. Asking me to not push him. I think if I did, he would give in. But I didn’t want him to have any regrets about our first time together, so I relented. I rested my forehead against his chest and nodded in silent agreement.
“Thank you,” he breathed, then planted a soft kiss on the top of my head. I liked it when he did that. I always had. His forehead kisses were great, too. They had always made me feel special, had made me believe they were something that was his and mine, but now it was more. That thought spread warmth through me and made me sigh in contentment. He let go of my hands and his arms came around me, hugging me to his warm body. I tilted my head back and gave him a smile.
“Tomorrow is Friday. I have to work late, but I want to take you away for the weekend. Somewhere nice. Maybe to the coast.”
My smile widened at the idea of having him to myself for a full weekend. “I would love that.” He kissed me softly, lovingly, then let me go and took a step back.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Be ready at seven and we’ll leave right away.”
“Okay. I’ll be ready.”
“Night, Liz.”
“Night, Cole.”
Then he turned around and walked back to his car. I went into my apartment and locked the door behind me.
God, I was a lovesick mess. It was kind of ridiculous.
But I also kind of liked it.
Lizzy
Twelve years ago.
Lizzy is thirteen. Cole is fifteen.
I am shaking. My whole body is trembling. Tears are streaming down my face, but I can’t feel the cold wind turning them into ice on my cheeks. All I can feel is that man’s hands on my legs as he is pushing up my shorts, his hot breath on my neck, then the pain as he grips my thighs roughly as he tries to push them apart when I start to struggle.