Page 37 of Breaking You Open

Now I want Louis, and he wants me too. Helikes me, or at least he said so, but for some reason, he can’t let himself have me. Why, why? Not knowing is driving me up the wall.

The rest of the week, he’s working every single night, and with no one to give me the attention and care that I crave, I’m going stir-crazy in his apartment. Lilith texts me a few times to tell me about all the crazy parties she’s been to lately and how hot her boyfriend, Asher, is.

She knows how to get a guy’s attention. Why can’t I do it too?

The next few days, I start experimenting.

I start dressing differently when Louis is home. I lie on my stomach on the couch, dressed only in the tiny booty shorts that used to drive Aaron wild. It works. Kind of. I feel Louis’s gaze on me as he’s making dinner, and when the food is ready, he mutters with a strained sort of tone, “Get dressed and come eat.”

“Why?” I say innocently, waving my legs in the air. “Last time I checked, I don’t need clothes to eat.”

“Last time I checked, you’re in my house, and I make the rules.”

I try to pout and keep my childish tantrum going, but the creature in me that wants to obey his every order is helpless to resist the tone of his voice.

The day after, I paint my lashes with mascara and my mouth with pink lip gloss again, and that has him reacting, at least. When I greet him outside the university building after class, he runs his thumb over my lower lip with a smirk.

“What’s this?”

“Just trying something.” All the while, my brain chants,Do you like it? Do you like it? Do you like it? Please like it.But apparently, he doesn’t like it enough.

At night, I have to dig my fingernails into my palms to keep from jerking off under the covers. Last time I did, I failed to control myself, and some of my release ended up on the backrest. I had to frantically wipe it off, all while wondering if Louis had heard me.

One night, I fail to resist. Heart pounding, I imagine myself sneaking into Louis’s bedroom and crawling under the sheets. His body would stiffen, and without a word, he’d grab me by the neck, flip me over to my stomach, and climb over my body. Ripping off my underwear, he’d enter me with his massive cock as I wriggled underneath him, unable to move even an inch as he took me as his.

Ah, shit…With this fantasy clear in my mind, it doesn’t take long for me to shoot into one of the paper towels I stuffed under the mattress, and I bite my lip to muffle my helpless groans. For several minutes, I’m left panting and reeling from the intensity of my orgasm, the remnants of the fantasy lingering in my mind.

One evening when Louis is at work, I venture into his bedroom and look through his drawers. There’s nothing of note except for some condoms of the king-size variety and a bottle of lube, but in the bottom drawer, there are a few photographs.

One is a family photo of a mother and father, and the child standing between them has to be Louis. Oh my god, he’s so cute! He looks just like a regular kid—awkward and chubby—not like now that he’s a huge man with a full beard, tattoos, and a grim demeanor.

Another picture catches my attention even more. It depicts Louis as a young man—clean-shaven and with fewer tattoos on his bare arms. He looks…happy. There’s another young man beside him—blond and blue-eyed. They’re smiling, embracing each other with an intimacy that speaks of more than friendship.

I turn the photo, and there’s the nameJustinand a date on the back. Nine years ago.

Justin? Who’s Justin? Louis hasn’t mentioned an ex-boyfriend. Despite us living together now for over a week, I know so little about him.

I leave his room, still at a loss for what to do with this new information. I can’t confront him about it directly; he’ll know I went snooping in his room, and he won’t like that. Better wait for tomorrow and consult someone else, but who? The only one I know well enough is Lilith, and even though I don’t really feel like talking to her about this, it might be my only option.

After the afternoon class that Friday, I find her in the corridor. I grab her arm and try to pull her with me to evade the wave of students leaving the classroom, but she flinches away.

“Whoa, there.” Her voice is sharp—halfway between annoyed and something else—scared? “What do you want?”

“I need your help.”

“Oh yeah?” She crosses her arms. “Help with what?”

She looks paler than usual, and her skin has an odd, clammy sheen to it. A new type of makeup? No…She looks…sick, and she seems to have lost weight since I last saw her. She also seems even more prickly than usual. I know she doesn’t like me that much, but she’s usually glad to see me—if only for the reason that she enjoys teasing me.

I tell her about what happened the night I went to Moe’s Den. I tell her about Louis’s jealousy, about him dragging me into the back room, and about how we almost…

“Oh,” she says, a smile tilting her nude lips. Her makeup isn’t as severe as usual; maybe that’s why she doesn’t look quite herself. “So youdowant to sleep with him. He doesn’t deserve you, you know.”

“Just tell me what to do. Please?”

She sighs and runs a hand through her hair—usually so shiny and freshly dyed, now dull and unkempt. “You got one thing out of that night, at least: making him jealous works.”

“I don’t really like making him jealous. He gets scary.” I remember the crazed look in his eyes as he prowled toward me in the back room and pushed me up against the wall. It was thrilling but scary too.

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