Bite & Release Page 4

  “Nothing is going to happen, Shea.” I gritted my teeth, as I stared at him. Was I trying to convince him or myself?

  “Tell yourself all you want, but you had me bring you out here for a reason. Care to share?” he replied with an ardent grin. I paused, trying to come up with an explanation. I knew I was playing with fire here, and this was all kinds of wrong. I knew I shouldn’t be with him here, alone. This was a risky game I was playing, almost as if I was testing my resolve.

  “Just take me home, Shea,” I finally said, choking out the words. He reached across me, letting his hand linger on my thigh. Just having his hand there ignited a burning deep within me. My nipples pebbled, and my core began to beat like a drum.

  “Nope, I don’t think I’ll take you home . . . not just yet.” The determined tone in his voice started a quivering deep inside me. “Because I think you may want this.” He began to circle his fingers lazily over my thigh towards my crotch, and I wondered if he could feel the heat permeating through my dress. Now I really felt flustered and hot. What the fuck was I doing?

  “I can’t have sex with you, Shea,” I pleaded, shifting my body, crossing my legs. My mind was fucking me up big time.

  Case in point—I was prepared to jump out of my dress.

  “Who said anything about sex? There are so many other things I can do to you that don’t require fucking.” His brilliant blue eyes flashed as he pinned me with a lusty gaze. “Let me make you come, Ryan.”

  I really wasn’t drunk, maybe just a tiny bit buzzed from the few gulps of liquor, but there was still something slightly disturbing when hearing the words “fuck” and “come” leave Shea’s mouth. Nevertheless, my body reacted to it instantly. I was fairly sure I could wring out my panties because they had become so wet. When he leaned into me, I tried to look away, but those blue eyes that had always reminded me of the color of lapis sucked me in. I closed my eyes for a moment, reached for my memories of the past, and tried to push out the boy I used to babysit. I desperately needed to see the breath-taking man before me.

  “I’m going to kiss you, Ryan, and then I’m going make you come with my fingers.” I could feel his breath waft over my face as he spoke. I couldn’t speak or move.

  Shea cupped the back of my head, crushed his lips to mine, and slipped his tongue into my mouth. I moaned with the electrifying sensation of the kiss as he pulled me over onto his lap, crushing my breasts against his firm, chiseled chest. God, he smelled like a blend of cinnamon and soap. I heard a soft growl come from his throat as his tongue wrapped around mine and he deepened the kiss. I reached up with both hands and put my fingers through his hair. I could feel his unshaven face pressing against me. I needed to feel his skin, and I desperately wanted to touch what was under his sweater. I slipped my hands underneath, my fingers coming in contact with warm, rock hard flesh. God, he felt so good. My exploration was quickly cut off when Shea grabbed both of my hands and pulled them away from his body. Why didn’t he want me touching him? I finally broke away, panting, realizing this was a grave mistake.

  “Jesus, we have to stop. This is wrong.” I looked at Shea, my breathing labored. He moved back slightly, just enough so I could see the outline of his cock, hard and thick. I couldn’t think straight. Seeing him like that, even for a moment, and I wanted to run my hand along his length. Lust was coursing through my blood with alarming need.

  “That’s just from kissing you, wait until I fu—”

  I put my hands up in front of his mouth. “Hold it right there . . . I told you we can’t have sex. Jesus, Shea, we shouldn’t even be doing this. I’m too old for you and you’re just a kid.” I tried to move back into my own seat, putting distance between us, but he just kept closing the space.

  “Fine . . . I said I didn’t have to fuck you to make you come.” I could hear the frustration in his voice as he ran his hand through his hair. Considering his age, I expected a pout momentarily. “Ryan, I’m not a child and I don’t give a damn about the age difference, just let me make you come, let me be the one to give you pleasure. Allow me to do that, because you need it . . . and I want it.” His voice dropped into a whisper. He moved as close to me as possible, reaching over my body and pushing the seat all the way back. He then pulled himself back, as he began to ease my dress up slowly. My heart was beating so fast, and a rushing sound filled my ears. I could hear him talking softly but I couldn’t make out the words. I knew it was wrong, but my body felt numb and it would not respond to mental commands. I couldn’t stop him, and somewhere deep in my mind, I was begging him to go on.

  “Ryan.” Shea breathed into my mouth and kissed me again while his fingers explored my thighs under my dress, making their way to my heat. My body trembled, my legs actually felt shaky. His hands rested on my panties and he pressed a palm onto my mound. His fingers feathered over the silky material as he began kneading me through the panties. I was so wet; I almost couldn’t stand the friction between his fingers created. As we broke the kiss, he laid his head on my chest and his fingers concentrated on their work. He pulled my panties to one side, using his index finger gently to trace the outside of my lips. A whimper escaped my mouth.

  “Relax, baby, it’s only been a few minutes for you. I’ve been waiting thirteen years,” he crooned as he delicately opened the lips of my swollen folds. Shea used my wetness to lubricate his fingers and passed them lightly across my slick folds, then finally pushed in one single finger ever so slightly. I was ready to come apart right there—my body felt boneless, my heart was pounding and I felt my orgasm building. I tried pushing against his hand, urgently trying to get him to penetrate me all the way with his finger. I heard him softly chuckle as he pushed it in again halfway, then removed it. I bit my lip. What a fucking tease.

  “Aw, baby, you feel like liquid silk on my fingers. I bet you taste even better,” he growled. I snapped my mouth closed to keep from screaming as the frustration and need nearly sent me careening over the edge of sanity.

  “Fuck, you’re drenched,” he groaned. “I’m so glad it’s me, Ryan, making you so wet.” As he penetrated me with his index finger, and then added a second finger, I could feel his passion as he teased my clit back and forth. I almost couldn’t stand the pleasure. Even the inside of my thighs were wet with my arousal, and the interior of the vehicle smelled like sex.

  “If we weren’t in the Bronco, I’d have my tongue inside of you along with my fingers,” Shea whispered.

  I groaned—loudly. Was he trying to kill me with his wickedly dirty images? The pleasure was so intense that it almost stole my breath from my body. He finger-fucked me with lightning-quick thrusts now, and my body arched to meet his demanding pace. My breathing was coming in short gasps now. I gripped Shea’s arms, my nails digging into his sweater. I heard a guttural sound come from Shea’s throat, and his breath came in short pants as pleasure started to take us both.

  “Oh . . . Oh . . . God . . . oh Fuck . . . OH . . .” I was yelling as I came off the seat, grinding my pelvis into his hand, my inner muscles gripping his fingers tightly as my release washed over me. Shea reached up, brushing his lips across mine. I was spent, tired, sated.

  “That was just a prelim . . . wait until my cock is buried inside you,” he chuckled, as he removed his hand from my panties. I was caught between heated desire for him and wanting to wash his mouth out with soap. Now I felt mortified.

  I used to babysit him! And here I am now—all glowy from a fresh orgasm that he just gave me! I am so going to hell for sure.

  I adjusted my dress and tried pretending to act casual as my mind raced through a million scenarios. I looked at Shea, as he moved back to the driver’s seat; his head was tilted slightly and his breathing appeared labored. My eyes drifted to his crotch, his straining erection pressing against his jeans. I could see a damp spot where his hard cock lay. I sucked in a breath and put my hands in my lap to keep from touching him.

  “Come home with me?” Shea asked, his eyes pleading.

  “I
can’t, Shea.” I reached over to grab the seat belt. “This went too far. I can’t sleep with you.”

  “Who said anything about sleeping?” he sighed as he reached for his seat belt.

  I reached over and touched his arm, his blue eyes piercing into my very soul. No matter what my mind kept telling me, Shea was a man, not a little boy anymore. But this couldn’t happen—we couldn’t happen. All of this . . . it felt wrong.

  “Shea, go home to your girlfriend,” I said, frustrated and angry with myself for letting this get out of hand.

  “I told you, she’s not my girlfriend.” He turned on the ignition and began backing out. “I told her to go home before I picked you up.”

  “Well, now I feel bad because you gave me an amazing orgasm and you didn’t get anything out of it.” Shea slammed on the brakes and stopped the car abruptly, turning off the ignition.

  “You have no idea what you just gave me,” he said, tugging his knit cap down on his head. “Every girl I’ve ever kissed, ever held, ever fucked . . . they were all you. It’s only ever been you, Ryan. And if you truly feel that bad, I’m sure there are a few ways you can make it up to me.”

  I glanced over at Shea with remorseful eyes. “The ideas you’re currently fantasizing about aren’t going to happen. I’m so sorry, but honestly, what just happened was not my intention. I’m not the one who took the advantage tonight,” I said, trying to avoid eye contact. I was too afraid he would be able to read my conflicted thoughts.

  “Jesus, Ryan, I’m pretty damn sure you had decided what would happen when you called me.” His voice was filled with frustration. Now I felt horrible, my body filled with anxiety because some of Shea’s words rang in my head as truth.

  My mouth felt dry, and I felt pain in my chest. What had I done? Had I just given Shea hope for us? I remembered what Trina had said about Shea being in love with me and that my leaving had broken his heart. But he had been an eight year-old boy—a little boy attaching himself to the first person who really showed him affection.

  “Oh Shea, this can’t happen. We can’t happen. I’m sorry if you thought that this . . . what just happened . . . meant something.” As soon as I said it, I wished I could take it back because clearly it had meant something to him.

  He started up the car, and I could tell by his demeanor that he was angry. He took me back to my house and as I retrieved my bags from the trunk, he didn’t even get out of the car. I tapped on the driver’s side window. He didn’t roll it down—he just looked at me through the glass. I mouthed I’m sorry to him. He shrugged and put the car in reverse, leaving skid marks in the street as I watched his headlights disappear.

  Chapter SEVEN

  I spent the next week doing nothing but cleaning, trying to get the house in good enough shape for the real estate market. The odd thing was that the more I cleaned, the better it looked, and it began to feel comfortable and safe, like a home—my home. I knew, deep down inside, I didn’t want to go back to New York, not only because of Garrison but because it would be a constant reminder of my failure as an actress. I had too much turmoil going on in my life. I needed a safe haven right now, and people I trusted. Maybe staying here for a while wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Of course, I would be kicking myself come late October when the snow began to fall and with it the temperatures would begin to plummet. But maybe I needed this safety net, some place to lay my head and not be so afraid. I called the real estate companies with which I had made appointments and canceled. I told them that when I decided I wanted to sell, I would let them know.

  Trina wanted to spend some time shopping, which was fine with me. I may just splurge and buy some clothes. I couldn’t use any of my credit cards and, in reality, I should just cut them up because I was sure that either Garrison had canceled them or was watching for any purchases I made. Since I wasn’t paying rent and I had no car, the cash I did have would have to be enough for at least a few months for utilities and essentials, as long as I budgeted myself.

  Trina showed up on the weekend and we decided to hit the mall. It had been so long since I had a girl’s day out and did some shopping.

  “Have you seen Andrew?” Trina asked me as we drove. I wondered why she was asking, and all of a sudden, I felt the guilt all over my face.

  “No . . . why?” I replied nonchalantly.

  “My mom called me yesterday. Carrie called her the other day, and she was crying,” Trina said, her eyes fixed on the road.

  My cheeks began to feel as though they were on fire. Did Shea tell Carrie what had happened between him and me? Did she tell Trina’s mom? I groaned internally.

  “I guess he told Carrie that he wasn’t going to see her anymore.”

  “Was Carrie his girlfriend?” I asked, trying not to seem too interested.

  “No, not really, I mean they had been going out for almost a year, but I think girlfriend would be a loose interpretation.”

  We came to a mall I recognized from thirteen years ago, but it had been remodeled since I last lived here and seemed to have a larger variety of stores. As she quickly found a parking space, I felt the anticipation of actually having a girl’s day with Trina, something that I hadn’t done in thirteen years.

  “Hey, let’s get lunch too—I’m buying,” Trina announced gleefully, grabbing her purse as we got out.

  I cleared my throat. “You didn’t finish about Shea and Carrie. So what did she tell your mom?” I asked, hoping my tone didn’t betray how nervous I was.

  “Nothing, really, she had no idea why he just ended it. She said everything was fine one moment, and then he just changed. I’m trying not to make it into a big deal, but sometimes I worry about Andrew. His life hasn’t been easy.” Trina had trepidation written all over her face.

  “T, what is it? Why are you worried?” My heart was actually pounding, and now I was concerned as well. I wasn’t sure if I was feeling panic for Shea or my fear if Trina found out that he and I had fooled around.

  Trina entwined her arm through mine as we walked into the mall. “I’ll tell you about it at lunch. Let’s go buy shoes.”

  We spent the next three hours trying on clothes, shoes, and hosing ourselves down with every kind of new perfume the cosmetic counters offered. By the time we went to lunch, I had purchased one pair of pants on sale, a really beautiful sweater and a pair of new boots. Trina had bought a dress, two pairs of shoes and assorted jewelry. We both smelled like French whores from spending too much time at the cosmetic counters as we went into one of the restaurants in the mall, overloaded with bags. We slipped into a small booth and proceeded to look over the menus. We ordered salads along with glasses of wine.

  “Okay, so tell me why you’re concerned about Shea?” I inquired, sipping my wine. I simply had to know if anything was said about our tryst in the car, because not knowing was killing me. Trina’s face looked very troubled. She took a sip of her wine then leaned back into the booth.

  “Andrew went through a very dark period in his life. I don’t want anything to cause him to go back to that place.” Trina took another sip and looked at me.

  Oh God, does she know? Trina was going to hate me. I reached out and placed my hand on top of hers.

  “When you left, he pretty much shut down from everyone. Yeah, he was only eight, but I’m fairly sure he had emotional issues back then. You know our father—he was a real bastard in every sense of the word.” Trina paused, her eyes sliding to my left arm. “With all that biting, it’s obvious he had psychological trauma even back then.” Trina’s face went tight, her lips set firm.

  “Trina, all kids go through shit. Lots of kids bite, maybe not as hard as Shea did, but it happens.” I smiled as I touched my bite mark through my sleeve. Trina’s eyes knowingly went to the spot I was rubbing.

  “By the time Andrew got to junior high, he was basically an adult, or at least he thought he was.” Trina shook her head slowly. “He was having sex when he was thirteen. I mean thirteen. I was so freaked out, but all I could do was
buy him condoms and beg him to be safe.”

  I sat there stunned. What in the hell happened after I left? I’d run away to leave this place, but what had I left behind?

  “Booze and drugs, Andrew did them both, probably to try and block out his home life. My father beat him senselessly. You have no idea, Ryan . . . it was a nightmare. I wish I had been able to protect him.” Trina’s eyes started watering. She quickly took another sip of her wine. All I could do was sit there, my mind reeling.

  “Andrew was out of control. My mom tried to talk to him, and when that didn’t work, my father . . .” Her face was now distorted with hatred, but she exhaled and continued. “That man beat the shit out of Andrew every single day with a belt, among other things.” Trina’s voice choked. I felt like I had ice running through my veins. My heart hurt so badly.

  “What happened, Trina?” I asked in a muffled whisper. I felt it in my bones that Trina was not revealing everything. There was more to this story.

  “I think Andrew finally figured his only way out was to graduate and move out. I honestly tried to help him several times, but my father’s connections in this place were too strong and my mother, she . . .” Trina bent her head. “He spent almost three years going to school every day, going to summer school, and even did night courses. He quit the booze and the drugs, graduated at sixteen and the rest is history.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I sat there immobilized. I had always known her dad had hurt Trina’s mom, but I didn’t think it went past that, at least I had always hoped it hadn’t. I cleared my throat and squeezed Trina’s hand.

  “Did he ever hurt you?” I asked her, almost not wanting an answer.

  “No, he never touched me,” Trina replied calmly. “He saved all his hostility for my mom and Andrew.” Trina finished her wine, setting the glass on the table.

  Our food came and we sat in silence. Finally, Trina looked up, staring into my face.

  “What happened, Ryan?” Trina asked me, her voice hesitant.