Page 18 of Girl, We Go Together
It was something in her voice and the way she looked at me like she actually saw past the tough exterior that hit me different. I sat on the edge of the bed with my elbows on my knees while shaking my head.
“Shit got me fucked up, Cay.”
Although Fresh showed me that he wasn’t shit to me, it was still hard deciding what to do.
“I know,” she said soothingly, like she understood exactly how I felt.
She made me feel free to open up. To give her all the parts of me that I wished I could have given a woman before her. She touched my shoulder. Her hand was warm, and it grounded me.
“Trust me. I’m here.”
That broke something in me. I turned and really looked at her. It was the way her lips parted slightly, and it was the concern in her eyes. The weight of everything pressed down on me, but for once, I didn’t want to carry it alone. I leaned in slowly to test her. Her breath caught, but she didn’t move away.
Our lips met. The interaction was soft at first, then hungrier, deeper. The taste of ice cream lingered on her tongue, and it was sweet against the bitterness still in my chest. She shifted, letting me pull her closer, and my hand slid up her leg to her thigh. I was careful not to press against the bandage on her calf. Her fingers curled in my shirt like she’d been waiting for this moment, too. I would be a liar if I said that by the first night she spent in my house, I didn’t want to bang her down. I wanted her badly.
By the time the bowl hit the floor, everything was forgotten. I wasn’t thinking about Fresh, my brother, or the get back. All I could think about was her. And just like that, the chaos of my world faded, at least for the night. When our lips broke apart, I didn’t move right away. I just looked at her, and I mean really looked at her. Cayla had this soft glow to her. Her curls framed her face, and her nightgown stretched a little tight over her curves. She tried to pull the hem down like she was shy, but I caught her hand.
“Don’t do that,” I said lowly, “you don’t gotta hide from me.”
Her eyes flickered with something. A look that I saw in a lot of women. Her look meant so much to me because she was fucking beautiful, and a piece of me knew that deep down inside, she didn’t see it. She had more pounds than most that I had dated, but it didn’t stop a damn thing. Her face was fucking gorgeous, but still, she held that look of insecurity and doubt. She didn’t pull away, though. I kissed her again, slower this time, letting her feel every bit of it. My hand slid to her hip; the fullness of her curves fit in my palm like it was meant to be there. She trembled, soft whimpers caught in her throat as I eased her back against the pillows.
I wanted to take things slow with her. She had this way of being gentle with me that I wanted to reciprocate. Her nightgown rode up, revealing the softness of her stomach. Shestarted to move her hand like she wanted to cover herself again, but I caught it and pressed it gently back down.
“Nah, Cay. You are beautiful just like this.”
Her breath shuddered out, and for the first time that night, she let herself relax under me. I kissed down her neck in slow trails that made her shiver. Her skin was warm, her body responsive in ways that drove me crazy. My hands explored her entire frame. The dip of her waist, the thickness of her thighs. I loved the softness that made her so damn real.
“Orion…” she whispered, her voice trembling, half a plea, half disbelief.
“Yeah?”
“I ain’t… I mean, it’s been a minute. I don’t want you to think?—”
I hushed her with another kiss.
“Don’t overthink it. Just feel me.”
By her bent eyebrows, I knew she wondered what I would think of her. She probably wondered if she was moving too fast. When I eased the nightgown over her head, she froze for a second, covering her chest with her arms. I gently pushed them aside, kissing the tops of her breasts, making her arch instead of shrinking away. Her body was plush, generous, and I wanted every inch of it.
“You're perfect, Cayla. Don’t ever doubt that.”
The way she looked at me, wide-eyed, vulnerable, almost like she didn’t believe a man could say that and mean it, made me slow down even more, savoring her. By the time I slid inside her, her breath hitched, and a gasp that escaped those lips turned into a moan.
She clung to me, her nails dug into my back as I moved slowly and steadily. I was giving her time to adjust to my size. Giving her a moment to get used to what I felt like. Her body wrapped around mine, soft but strong, grounding me in a way nothingelse had. The world outside of us, the beef, the streets, and the weight I carried all disappeared. All I could hear was her moans, all I could feel was the warmth of her body, the way she gave herself to me, even with the scars she carried. She whispered my name like a prayer, and I lost myself in her, holding on tighter than I meant to.
When it was over, she lay against me with her chest rising and falling; her curls were damp with sweat. For the first time in a long time, I felt… peaceful. And I think she felt it too.
Chapter 6
Cayla
The sunlight that crept through the blinds was warm against my skin. I blinked awake slowly, stretching before realizing I wasn’t alone. Orion was beside me with one of his arms draped heavily across my waist; his breathing was deep and steady in sleep. My hair was all over the place, but in that moment, the hours I would spend fixing it didn’t even matter.
Orion had taken me on a ride that I damn sure needed, and the corners of my mouth turned upward, replaying the night before in my head. For a second, I just watched him. His strong jawline was relaxed, and his lips were parted slightly as his chest rose and fell. He looked… peaceful. And I felt giddy, like a teenager with her first crush. I hadn’t felt like this in so long. It made my eyes watery to feel this safe and wanted. This feeling was something I’d been chasing since Lamont and I had separated.
The feeling of somebody actually seeing me. Like someone was actually choosing me. My fingers traced along the tattoo inked on his arm, the little details I hadn’t noticed last night in the heat of it all. This man was tatted up. Now seeing him shirtless gave me a full view of his art-covered canvas. I caught myself smiling. Maybe this was the start of something. Maybefor once, life was finally about to give me a break. That’s when Mello went crazy, barking loudly and sharply at the front door. I sat up quickly, clutching the sheet to my chest while my heart was thumping. Instantly, I thought of the streets knocking at his door.
He came in so worked up the night before. I didn’t know exactly what he was into, but that gun in his car spoke volumes. The stress he walked through the door with replayed in my head. He gave me the short version of what was going on with him, but I wondered if what he was going through was deeper than he explained. Could the situation he was in bring drama to his front door? I chewed on my bottom lip, thinking about every possibility of who could be banging on the other side of the door.
