Page 51 of Collision
“He cheated on me,” I confess after a moment of hesitation, expecting to feel a stab to the heart. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
He doesn’t answer. He inhales cigarette smoke with half-closed eyes and blows it upward. Even now, he doesn’t take his eyes off mine. “Does he know you’re here?”
I shake my head no and watch the smug smile appear on his face.
“Thomas,” I whisper. “Would you like to… I mean, can you come here, with me? I know, it’s dumb. But it’s been a horrible day and I just really need…” Human warmth? Reassurance? Affection? It would be too pathetic if I said any of that out loud. The perplexed expression he gives me prompts me to stop talking. Maybe I’m asking too much. “Never mind, forget I said anything. It doesn’t matter.”
I go back to staring at the ceiling and calling myself stupid. Surprisingly, however, Thomas lets out a deep breath and gets up. He puts out his cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand and ditches his jeans, wearing just a pair of black boxer shorts. Faced with the vision of his naked, sculpted body, my ability to speak, think, or breathe is obliterated. My cheeks burn, and I cannot remember my own name. I blink and swallow hard as I try desperately to look anywhere but the most crucial part of his body, currently covered by fabric that is far too tight. So tight that it leaves little room for the imagination.
“What’s wrong, Ness?” Thomas’s warm, persuasive voice causes me to look up at him. He looks at me mischievously, aware and proud of my embarrassment. Cocky, as ever. “You wanted me under the covers, right? Wish granted.” With an insolent smile, he puts one knee on the mattress and slowly approaches me in a catlike fashion, though being very careful not to touch me. It’s as though the idea of teasing me amuses him, but he doesn’t want to disrespect me in any way or take advantage of my moment of weakness. He puts his hands behind the back of his head and leans back against the headboard. He turns toward me and stares at me with a look so sympathetic and indulgent that it manages to dispel the tension. I was certain that being in bed with someone who wasn’t Travis would make me nervous in some way. Instead, for some strange reason, my body is perfectly relaxed next tohim. Moved by an instinctive need, I let go completely.
“Can I…can I just hold you for a little while?” I feel desperate for crumbs of affection. I’m sure it’s the alcohol lingering in my body that has made me so open, so free of any boundaries.
He seems bewildered by my request. Then, prompted perhaps by a sense of compassion, he decides to open his arms to me. “Don’t get used to it,” he grumbles. I curl up and press my face against his warm chest, inhaling his scent. I love it.
Thomas holds me in a grasp that is strong and reassuring as well as protective. And something inside me seems to break loose. Suddenly, I burst into tears. I can’t stop. the tears flood out of me, uncontrolled.
“I’m sorry, I…I can’t stop,” I sob, with my face hidden in my hands.
Thomas doesn’t say anything, he just holds me tighter, making me feel as though I am enclosed in a fortress where I can give free rein to all my pain.
“You were right, you know? He took everything from me,” I murmur, my lips wet with tears. “And now I can’t stop feeling…”
“What?”
“Wrong.”
“You’re not the one who’s wrong,” he says brusquely. I tilt my face to look him in the eye.
“But that’s how I feel. Wrong. All this time, Travis has been cheating on me. Do you know what that means? That he preferred anyone else to me. I must have disgusted him. Whatever I had to offer him wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough. It’s always been like that. I’ve never been enough for anyone.”
Thomas pulls away slightly to get a better look at me. “You talk a lot of bullshit. But I’ll give you a pass. You’re half drunk and clearly depressed.”
“No, it’s the truth. I don’t like myself, and why should I? My own boyfriend didn’t even like me,” I say, bursting into nervous laughter and then shaking my head in humiliation.
Thomas grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “He cheated onyou because he’s an asshole who couldn’t keep it in his pants. That is not your fault. It’s his. Get it through your head.”
“You don’t understand…” I leave the sentence hanging when I realize that he, too, must have inflicted the same humiliation on who knows how many girls.
“Do you think you aren’t attractive? If you do, you’re fucking wrong.”
I feel a shiver down my spine.
Does he really think that?
Dazed and overwhelmed by a thousand emotions, my gaze lingers on his lips. I feel a tingle in my belly at the idea of covering them with mine, of feeling our tongues entwine and our flavors blending together. I wonder how he kisses, Thomas. How he takes control of a woman’s body. How he looks at the moment of climax…
An unhealthy idea makes its way into my head.
I want to find out.
My fingers move automatically along his jawline, following his chin before slowly meeting his chapped and parted lips. Hypnotized, I trace the outline of his mouth. My breasts press against his massive, exposed chest. The tips of our noses touch, and for a few interminable moments we do not tear our gazes away from one other, our breaths labored with tension.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, entranced by my own movements.
Longing for more, to feel the effect his skin would have against mine, I push my pelvis slowly toward him; my thighs press against his more muscular ones and the slight bulge covered by the thin layer of his boxers presses against my most intimate parts. My body temperature skyrockets. I bite my lip and close my eyes as I feel him becoming increasingly bulky and defined between my legs.
