Page 3 of Whatever Wakes
Her hands are the only hands I’ve ever allowed on my body, the only ones I’m not disgusted by. The only ones I crave. It’s the exact opposite with her. I want to touch her.Needto. Want her to touch me like she means it, like she knows I’m the only one who can take care of her.
I can likely thank my dad for my distaste for human touch. The lack of my own bodily autonomy over the years is something I’m sure I’ll need to unpack in therapy in the future. If I ever get around to it.
Even though I was just heaving him into bed, the way his sweat-slick skin slid across my arms made bile rise in my throat like acid, burning from the inside out.
I’m lucky that I was even able to go through with this. I could have asked someone else for help, but there’s no one I trust with Kruz. No one else who understands what she means to me. No one else who knows exactly how much I’d do for her.
And we all know what happened the last time I trusted someone with the people I love.
I know this is fucked up.
But I couldn’t stop myself.
I need to deter her from other men. I need her to understand what it feels like when she ignores me, when she laughs too easily with someone else, when she acts like she’s free to do whatever she wants.
I want to give her a taste of her own medicine. I want to set something off inside her, something that forces her to react, to stop pretending I don’t matter to her the way she matters to me. I wonder what she’ll feel if she thinks I’ve been fucking around with someone else? Someone who isn’ther. Will she feel it in her gut, in her chest, in the way her hands curl into fists at her sides? Will sheseethethe way I do?
Will she feel the same boiling anger I do when I see her with anyone who isn’t me?
Most of all, I just want to see her reaction, to see her eyes darken, to hear the way her breath catches when she realizes I’m here, what it looks like I’ve done.
Though, I’d never fuck anyone that wasn’t her. Can’t even stomach the thought. Can’t imagine wanting anyone else.
She’ll flip.
It’s so easy to piss her off. Almost too easy.
And God, I love it.
My cock hardens in my pants at the thought of her reaction, and now all I have to do is wait.
Kruz
The wind cutsthrough my coat as I make my way up the icy sidewalk, cursing myself for not driving. But walking clears my head, and I need that tonight.
Christmas break starts in just a few days, and still, all I can think about is Ezra.
All I can ever fucking think about is Ezra.
It’s been just over a year since I first landed in his bed, and just over six months since the last time I was in it—187 days, not that I’m counting.
I should be over it by now. Shouldn’t still feel this coil of frustration, of longing, twisting inside me every time his name crosses my mind.
But I remember the first time I saw him at Jack’s house the night we moved Quinn in, the way his presence filled the room without him even trying. How he was all sharp lines and lazy confidence, an easy smirk tugging at his lips despite the circumstance.
I’d met plenty of men who thought they were charming. Ezra actually was. And he wasn’t even trying.
Maybe that’s why I tried so hard to ignore him at first.
It’s definitely why I couldn’t look away once I finally gave him that first glance.
The first night happened too easily, too fast. A conversation that turned into something else, a drink that turned into a dare I was too stubborn to back down from. And Ezra, who should’ve been off-limits, who should’ve been a bad decision I didn’t even consider—except I did.
Over and over.
It was supposed to be one night. No strings, no attachments, nothing to get tangled up in.
But then there was another night. And another. And suddenly six months had passed, and I was still lying in his bed, still reaching for him in the dark, still pretending like I wasn’t letting him ruin me for anyone else.
