Page 20 of Lock Me Out

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, hanging her head once I let go of her chin in favor of stroking her hair. “I’m just… I’m all mixed up inside. Don’t think I don’t want you. It’s complicated.”

“You know you can tell me about it.” Right, and how much proof have I given her of that? I just tried to force my way into her when she was clearly not into it, and I went far enough to make her sob. She’s supposed to believe she can open up to me?

“It’s not that easy. I wish it was.” When she closes her eyes, another pair of tears roll down her cheeks. I can’t believe the sight of those two tears is enough to make me ache the way I do inside. All I want is honesty, for her to feel like she can trust me. What could be so serious and shameful she wouldn’t want to tell me about it?

“You know…” I’m already half undressed, so I might as well finish the process. Kicking off my trainers, I continue, “Have you thought any more about what we talked about? Seeing a therapist?”

With her arms wrapped around herself, she shrugs. “Yeah, a little bit. Now and then.” I’m surprised, since she basically shut me down and ended the conversation when I brought it up.

“And? How do you feel about it?” I take off my jeans and shorts, stripping off my socks. It’s almost easier to have this conversation while I’m doing this, giving me something to focus on rather than the anguish she’s trying and failing to hide.

“I don’t know. Maybe that’s what I need to do. It can’t hurt, I guess. And there is all the stuff I need to get out.”

“I agree. You won’t get anywhere holding all of it inside.”

“I just feel like it’s getting in our way,” she whispers. I’m glad she said it, because I agree with that, too. One of us had to finally announce it. “The whole idea is a little scary, though.”

“There’s nothing to be scared of. You’ll only be talking to somebody who knows how to help you get through all the memories.” And I just gave her a good one, didn’t I? When am I going to learn?

There’s sorrow in my heart as I pull my T-shirt over my head. “I’m gonna take a shower. Do you wanna join me?” Reaching out, I cup her cheek, stroking it with my thumb. Her face is still flushed, her skin damp. What she needs more than anything is tenderness and understanding. I need to be the one to give it to her.

Her head bobs so I turn away toward the glass door of the shower stall, reaching to turn on the water so it will run hot by the time we get in. She undresses slowly, wincing almost like she’s in pain. Are her knees redder than they should be? Probably from when I pushed her up against the vanity—they must have been pressed against the cabinet doors underneath. Hardly the worst thing I’ve ever done to her, but that doesn’t mean I feel good about it.

There’s no need to talk anymore once we are in the shower together, with nothing between us but the water running down our bodies. Instead of getting soaped up right away, I hold out my arms, and she walks willingly into the circle of my embrace.

Something inside me goes still and peaceful once I have her close to me, her head on my shoulder, her heart beating against my chest. The water from the showerhead soaks into her hair,turning it a darker shade of red. I stroke it slowly while she loosens up a little bit at a time and eventually melts against me.

I’m only human. There’s only so long I can stand with her like this before I start getting hard again. Soon I’m pressed against her hip, twitching and throbbing every time she makes the slightest movement. When she lifts her head, blinking away the shower spray to look into my eyes, I see the longing there. The need.

Instead of taking her hard and fast the way I wanted to earlier, I cover her mouth with mine, savoring her shivers as electricity flows between us. I claim her again with my tongue slowly stroking hers and my touch changes, becoming more demanding as hunger starts consuming my being.

But she goes with it, letting me back her against the wall, lifting a leg and draping it over my hip so I can enter her all at once. She arches against me as I fill her, her mouth falling open, moving with me. “Oh, yes,” she whispers, closing her eyes, letting herself sink deep into the pleasure while I sink deep into her. So deep, joining us, connecting us.

“Fuck…” I groan, taking her hands and linking our fingers before holding them over her head. My forehead rests against hers, our breath mingling. She’s so tight, gripping me like a vice, trying to milk me dry. “Fuck, you feel so good…”

“So… do you…” she moans, straining upward for a kiss I deliver gladly. My teeth graze her lip, and she shivers, moaning into my mouth when our tongues mingle. This is what I need, what we both need. To lose ourselves in each other. There’s nothing but us now, no outside world, no questions. Only the power of being inside her, moving slowly, feeling every inch of her slick,hot walls against me. Wrapped around me, pulling me deeper, promising escape.

I don’t know how long I can take it slow like this. She’s starting to get tighter, her breath sharper, when she breaks the kiss to moan against my lips. “Yes, fuck me,” she begs. I let go of her hands, and she wraps her arms around my neck, burying her face against my shoulder. That’s all I need to hear to unleash hard, sharp thrusts that make her slide up and down the wet tile. Tighter, tighter, her high-pitched cries lost against my skin, pushing me to give her more. Everything I have.

My body is taking over, taking what it needs, and I give her all of me before she gasps and arches against me again, practically squeezing my dick off before her muscles start to flutter and her juices coat my balls. “Oh, god,” she moans, and the sound plus the feeling is too much. I can’t fight it anymore. The tingle at the base of my spine grows, and my balls lift before I explode. I give her all of me, every drop of my cum filling her cunt in one blissful spurt after another.

That blissful wave carries me through our shower and drying off together, leaving me floating in a haze. I’m calmer now, peaceful, able to treat her with the tenderness she deserves.

The feeling lingers by the time we lie in bed together, with her head on my bare chest and my arms around her, keeping her close. I always sleep the best when we’re like this, when I have her next to me.

Not tonight, though. At least not right away. All I can do is stare at the ceiling and think back on that text and wonder who sent it. What the hell it meant.

What she’s hiding from me.

11

LENI

“Isit okay if I go? Do you mind being home alone?”

Shit. I never did respond when Colt told me a couple of guys from his psychology class wanted to get together over pizza and beer to work on a project tonight. It was like my mind went blank as soon as he mentioned he would be out. It went straight to where it’s been for the past few days: that alley, with that man I was sure was Nix.

I’m not so sure anymore, but that’s only because I’ve had plenty of time to question myself and remember Nix is dead and gone. It’s probably not that unusual for somebody to have a crazy thought like I did when they were fresh off being violated the way I was. I needed something to comfort me, some concept to make me feel better, and the idea it was Nix out there was the closest thing to comfort I could think of. The idea that he’s still alive, that Colt isn’t wrong or deluded. And maybe he could finally be happy—really happy—because he’d feel whole again, like there isn’t a part of him missing anymore.

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