Page 6 of Our Shattered Pieces
“I love you, too.”
Hanging up, I questioned the wisdom of Lorcan coming here. As badly as I wanted to see him, paranoia was alive in my head, always there. And he’s only been off probation not even a full year. What if something were to happen while he was here? Lorcan had a vicious temper, and he wasn’t afraid to use it. Granted, he’s been working on trying to control it for years, but every now and again, it broke loose and that was never a good thing.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I should probably go visit him instead. However, I’d have to come up with a convincing reason why me visiting him was a better option than him coming to see me, and I couldn’t think of anything just yet.
Glancing around at the books scattered around me and my opened laptop, I pushed back the impending doom I was feeling and got back to studying. My issues weren’t anything that I was going to solve tonight, so I opted productivity instead.
When my phone chimed with an incoming text, I glanced at the screen and my stomach clenched.
Unknown.
I deleted it without even looking at it.
Chapter 4
Grayson~
“Ouch, Grayson. Not so hard.” I stopped, relaxed my hands, and counted to ten. “And you know this isn’t my favorite.”
The only thing I had going for me right now was that I was only twenty-two. The only thing capable of making me lose my erection was having my mother, father, or sister walk in on what I was doing with Katy.
I rubbed a hand down her smooth back, and said, “Sorry. I just figured since we didn’t have a whole lot of time, this position would be best to keep your hair and makeup from getting messed up.”
“Well, there is that,” she muttered.
“I’ll be more careful.”
“Okay.”
With her permission, I resumed what I’d been doing, but this time, I made sure to keep my hands moving over her soft skin.
Katy Oliver was every man’s dream when you looked at her. She was tall with dark auburn hair and radiant blue eyes. She stood out because she didn’t look like the millions of blondes, brunettes, and redheads you saw all over campus. Katy stood out because she didn’t look like the masses.
Now, while I didn’t have a preference, if Katy walked into a room with a bunch of other girls, she’s the one you’d notice first. Not only because she was tall, but because there was no missing that body her parents bought for her. Whoever Katy’s plastic surgeon was, he was worth every penny, because that hour-glass figure on her was to die for.
It wasn’t until you slept with her that the illusion was shattered. Looking at her, you’d think she was a dirty girl in bed, but she wasn’t. And as judgmental as it was, you’d think that someone who spent that kind of money on the body she had would be more adventurous in bed. But that wasn’t the case.
A few weeks into our relationship, I realized Katy was so into looks and presentation that she couldn’t even loosen up in the bedroom. She wanted to look perfect at all times, and that included during sex. Katy wanted to be in those sex scenes in romantic comedies where the woman’s hair and makeup were still perfect after a bout of lovemaking.
Seriously.
However, her issues worked to combat my own. At first, I’d been a little put off by the manufactured way she wanted to have sex, but I soon realized that I probably needed that to balance out the struggle I fought with every day.
Where Katy wanted to make love and for it to be slow, meaningful, and perfect, I was on the other side of the spectrum, unfortunately.
I hadn’t always been this way. Once upon a time, I liked regular sex, and welcomed whatever adventure the woman wanted to bring to the bedroom. From the second I had lost my virginity at the tender age of fourteen, I’d had no complaints where sex was concerned. Missionary, doggy-style, against the wall, in the back seat of an uncomfortable-as-fuck car, cowgirl, all of it, any of it was fine by me. I was a young boy learning about sex, and every lesson had been spectacular in my mind.
Even learning about foreplay had been explosive. A girl’s reaction whenever I had been doing something right had been a phenomenal feeling. The way she moaned when I sucked her tits or slid my fingers inside her. And let’s not forget the first time I ever tasted pussy. That had made such an impact, I’d have to say it was one of my favorite things to do to this day.
Sex had been thrilling, fulfilling, and a different experience every goddamn time.
Until my freshman year at Boston.
Eight months into my freshman year here, I had been partying and hooked up with a girl in one of my classes, and I haven’t been the same ever since.
“Oh…oh, oh, right there,” Katy cooed, and I made sure to keep my hands moving, not messing up her hair or makeup or leaving any marks behind.
I bit my tongue with what I wanted to say and went with what she wanted to hear instead. “You’re so beautiful, Katy.”
