Page 7 of Surviving Lies

His hands were still caging my head against the wall, showing no sign of letting me go. Lanie was right: seeing him again was making all the old emotions come bubbling right back to the top, making me forget the reason I cut him off to begin with. I scooted under his arm, knowing my resolve was close to coming to its end if I didn’t get out of this room with him.

But Ty took that opportunity to grab a hold of my face and pull it up toward his, cradling it in both hands. His mouth came to my ear, his breath making the bumps rise on my skin.

“You look fucking amazing, Becca,” he whispered. “What I really want to do is slide these tiny straps off of your shoulders and push everything down, letting your tits come out for me. I miss your tits, baby.” His words were melting me and my willpower. His one finger dragged along my jaw, down my neck and stopping on my collarbone. It was his silent question as he stared into my eyes, asking for consent.

The answer should have been no; it needed to be no.

Instead, the answer came from me crashing my mouth into his. And he made quick work of pushing the dress under my breasts, them popping free. They were pushed up like an offering waiting for him, their peaks taut with pleasure and anticipation.

This was not a time for lingering movements or delayed gratification. He was on a mission with limited time. His lips moved from mine and captured a nipple in a grip so deep it felt as if it hit the roof of his mouth. Using his hands, he recklessly kneaded my breasts together, a man hungry for what he’d missed. His thumb teased the other nub, grazing it, forcing it to grow even larger with his touch. He then rolled it between two fingers, twisting and pulling, eliciting a moan from deep within me. The heat pooling between my legs begged for attention but would have to be allayed with a thigh rub.

But then I froze and pulled back slightly, making Ty’s mouth slide from my nipple. His hooded eyes looked up at mine, filled with questions. I could tell he was about to ask them when I stopped him with my words.

“We can’t do this.” It came out like a whine. Because I wanted to be doing this. It felt good, better than good. And he looked at me that way again. “We’re not together, Ty. We have to stop.” He was about to argue, but I went on. “Nothing’s changed, has it? No change in anything we’ve discussed or fought about? If not, then there’s no reason for this to continue, Ty. I can’t do this.”

As he pushed farther away, his eyebrows drew together in frustration.

“Bec, I know we need to talk, and I don’t have time to do that right now. I just wanted to steal this time with you. When you walked in, I ...”

I pushed at his chest, forcing more space between us. Anger filtered through my veins, replacing the desire that was there moments ago. I put myself back inside my bra and pulled the dress up as I pivoted away from his hands, which reached out to help me.

“I’m good, Ty. I’ve got it.”

He looked dejected as I walked away from him. “But this wasn’t talking, was it, Ty? No, you saw me and you wanted to take up where we left off.” My sudden coldness had both our heads spinning, but it really shouldn’t have been a surprise.

“Bec,” he whispered, almost a plea.

The pounding on the door had us both jumping.

“Jesus Christ, Ty, get the fuck downstairs! They’ll have my ass for letting you up here in the first place.” Xander yelled his words through the door. He was pissed.

“Go,” I encouraged. “It’s fine. I get it. I don’t want you or Xander to get in trouble.” I moved to the window, my arms wrapped around my middle as I stared into the yard filled with frat brothers and their cronies looking to hook up.

I knew he’d opened the door because of the onslaught of voices that bombarded our cocoon of safety. The hallway had filled up. I turned to look at him as he slipped out of the room and found his eyes on me, expectant.

“I won’t say anything you want to hear, Ty. If you can’t give me what I want, we’re not getting back together. Hell, I might even look for a hookup today. I look too damn good to let it go to waste.” We both knew I was full of shit, that I talked a good game. But if saying it was enough to make him think he could lose me for good, then maybe it would get him thinking.

His mouth opened as if to rebut what I said, but he changed his mind. Instead, he left the room, closing the door with a quiet click.

And then I was alone. Like I had been all summer. And I missed his mouth on mine already. It would have been easy to fall back into our routine, step back into what we had, and forget about the issues. Our problems weren’t the worst out there. Some couples dealt with issues much more complex than their boyfriend refusing to tell his parents about you.

But I wasn’t willing to. I was worth knowing about. I was worth shouting from the rooftops about. And until he would do that, we would not be getting back together.

As I was alone with my thoughts, the door flew open and a couple tearing off each other’s clothes came barreling through. I hurried toward the door as they moved to the bed, completely unaware of my presence.

“I’ll just be going. Don’t mind me.” They paused for a moment, but it didn’t seem to stop their progress, more clothes coming off before I could close the door behind me. By the time I turned around, the hallway was full of more people than I realized. It was shoulder to shoulder up here, making it near impossible to even find the stairs. A panic set in, but I tried to swallow it down as I scanned the unfamiliar faces.

“Hi.” A calm voice was a little too close to my ear. I turned, hoping it was a familiar face, but it wasn’t. However, I was looking into the darkest, sultriest eyes I’d ever seen, surrounded by a face that smiled and was all chiseled and shit. “You look a little shell-shocked. First party here?”

His equally chiseled upper body was now pushed up against me, not of his own doing, more because of the crowd behind him growing. He put his hand up on the wall next to my head to keep himself from crushing against me any further, but my chest was heaving against him already, my breasts firmly pushed against his chest.

For the first time in, well, maybe my life, I was speechless.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” His sly smile when he spoke told me he knew the effect he was having on me. But he wasn’t cocky, just confident. I finally started breathing again, able to find my voice.

“No cats in this mouth. The only pussy I have is farther down.” Why the fuck did I say that? Oh my God, not only did it seem the hottest guy in the place was up in my space, but I came on to him.

And my recently “ex-boyfriend” was downstairs.

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