Memory: Book Two (Scars 2) (9 page)

“Do
they hurt?”

He
shook his head, his eyes firmly on the sand in front of him.

“Then
can I…?”

“You
never wanted to before.” He gave a slight shrug and I took that as a yes. Once
more, I let my finger follow the lines as if they were a labyrinth that would
take me to a thousand dead ends before finding the treasure that lay in the center.
The grotesqueness that they had inspired in me prior disappeared. Instead now I
saw them as more of an artwork, something unique and abstract, each one having
its own detail and beauty.

“Do
you know who Janus is? You probably don’t if you don’t like to read much, but
he’s the Roman god of doorways, beginnings, and transitions. He’s always
depicted with two faces.” I let my hand slip to his side and then underneath
him, touching the side of his stomach. “You remind me of him. This, right here,
this is perfect.” My hand slid back up to the brutal scars. “But this…it makes
you interesting. It’s like you’re two different people. Your face, your front,
it’s like you’re this male model, but your back…makes you dangerous like
there’s something lurking in you.”

Slowly,
my hand moved up his neck to stroke his hair and then down to his cheek. His
head moved suddenly and quickly, catching my finger in his mouth between even
white teeth. I gave a gasp of surprise, then relaxed as he drew my finger in,
replacing the teeth with his tongue just as I had done to him not long ago.

“That
feels nice,” I said softly, then I bit my lip. “It’s turning me on. Is that
what you’re trying to do?”

He
released my finger and sat up, getting to his feet and taking my hand. He said
not a word to me as we went through the gates, past the dark pool, and then
through the glass doors. Sand and water dripped from us as we crossed the white
tiles, turning down the hallway that led to the downstairs bathroom. He wasted
no time turning on the shower. As steam filled the room, he stripped my wet and
sandy bikini from me, letting it fall to my feet in a soiled mess that was no longer
nauseating white, to the once pristine tiles that were now marked by the sand
that we had tracked in.

His
hand went to the back of my neck, pulling me forward in a forceful grip and his
mouth landed on mine in such a way that there would be no turning my head away.
He bit my lips and sucked on them. Any restraint that he had kept on the beach
had now disappeared but I didn’t care. I was just as hungry as him, matching
each forceful act the best that I could. When he pulled away, my lips were
still searching for his.

“I
want you clean.” He propelled me to the shower, feeling the temperature then
pushing me under the water. Dragging his shorts down, he stepped under the
spray, closing the glass door behind him so we were trapped together. His eyes
raked down me, intense and lustful, before he grabbed the bottle of body wash
and pumped soap into his hand. Those hands grabbed at my breasts, squeezing
tantalizingly as the water turned the liquid to foam while my nipples hardened
in spite of the heat. I looked down to see the soap wash over my stomach to inbetween
my legs, and his hand followed. Fingers reached up into me and I felt myself
thrusting against them, wanting them harder and higher.

But
he didn’t give me them. Instead, he looped his arms under my thighs, lifting me
up, legs spread, displaying everything for him.

He
just stared at me for a moment.

“Am
I clean enough for you?” I managed to ask, dying for him to be inside me.

He
just grunted, before moving against me and sliding his cock right into me. It
was so deep that it nearly hurt, but I was so wet with fucking desire that I
didn’t care. The pain, this time, was good pain. I was feeling all of him, and
it was like he had all of me this way. I loved being opened like this,
displayed like this. I wanted this gorgeous man to screw the hell out of me
because he was not like the others. He was not some seedy, older, desperate man
who saw only the tight piece of forbidden ass in front of him. Aaron wanted
me
.

I
shrieked as he pounded into me, before calling to him to continue, harder and
faster.
I held onto his shoulders, my nails curving into his flesh as I
tightened around him and cried out as he brought me to climax.

Afterward,
once he had caught his breath and lowered me down onto my shaky legs, he washed
me. He was gentle this time, lathering the soap and rubbing it into every inch
of me so that there was no part of my skin that was tainted by sand or semen. I
closed my eyes under the warm spray and his seductive touch; the way he
massaged me made me want to sleep, but it also made me want to fuck again.

I
made no move though, merely letting him take me from the shower once he was
finished and standing in front of him as he rubbed every inch of me with a
towel, drying up the water on my skin that was flushed pink from the heat and
the sex. I felt like a doll, but with the extreme care that he took, I also
felt coveted.

It
was a nice feeling.

After
he dressed me in a cute summer dress (white, white, always white) I sat on a
bar stool and watched him prepare food. He had, first, meticulously mopped the
floor, cleaning away the water and sand. He hadn’t wanted any help.

“I
need new clothes, something with color,” I told him as he used a knife to cut a
cucumber.

“I
like you in white. You look good in white.” He didn’t look at me as he expertly
sliced the vegetable before layering it onto bread.

“No
I don’t. I’m too pale. I like color. Yellow. I look good in yellow.”

“Sure.”
He slid the plate with my sandwich on it toward me. I had managed to find a
vase for the flowers, but they drooped slightly now, and they didn’t really
seem to go with the décor. Everything here was shiny and hard, those roses with
their pastel colors looked tiny and defenseless. They were too soft. “We’ll go
after you rest this afternoon.”

I
made a face. “I’m fine. You don’t need to listen to that nurse. Besides, I’m
sure she’s a drunk and doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

He
shrugged noncommittally and continued eating.

I
did sleep, after we fucked on the kitchen counter. Skirt pushed up, he gripped
my thighs as he kissed my neck and pounded into me. I had thrown my arms around
him, amazed at how much I liked to touch him. The power of youth was
intoxicating when all I had known before was really underdeveloped highschoolers
and old men, desperate to suck away my youth in their clumsy touches and guilt ridden
moans.

There
was something about Aaron as well though. Desperation wasn’t the right word for
it, but there was an urgency to his touch that wasn’t normal, and it pleased
me. His want for me made me nearly forget that I didn’t have a clue as to why I
was really here, or where my mother was.

Nearly.

But
not quite.

After
we screwed, he took my hand and guided me up the stairs to the bedroom. He
stripped me naked before forcing me into the bed despite my protests and
tucking the sheets in around me like I was a child. I half expected him to kiss
me on the forehead, but he didn’t. He merely said, “Get some sleep,” before
leaving the room.

I
had every intention to covertly search for my phone again, but I was too
comfortable in the bed, content almost, and sleep came easily to me. I dreamt
of the man who told me about Janus. His eyes were wide and his mouth gaping
like the classical theatre masks of which he was so fond. Replicas had
decorated an entire wall of the living room in the house that my mother and I
had descended on. I had seduced him there, right in front of those masks. I
wished that he had died there instead in my bedroom.

I
didn’t wake up in terror. My eyes opened to the white ceiling, old memories
seeming like they were yesterday. There should have been horror taking hold of
me, but instead, there was just fact. It was something that I barely thought of
and considered anymore.

Aaron
came in when I was in the shower. “How do you feel?” he asked as he leaned
against the wall, watching me. Through the steamed up glass door of the shower,
he looked like a dark figment, nearly a shadow.

“Great.”

“Any
memories back yet?”

“Nope.”
My hand brushed over the part of my head where my head was shaven and I
cringed, glad that I couldn’t see it. “I’ll be out in a moment and then we can
go shopping.”

But
he didn’t go anywhere, he just stood there watching me. Finally, I pushed the
door open. “Want to join me?” I asked, smiling.

He
pushed off from the wall and stood up straight. “Nah. I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Okay.
Could you have another look for my phone?”

He
gave a nod before disappearing through the door. I turned and continued washing
the soap from me. This was odd, my feeling this way. I was acting like some
horny girl who only thought about sex. Or was it Aaron I wanted?

When
I had dressed and covered my hair, he sat at the table looking at a phone, his
eyes flicked up to me. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.
Is that my phone?”

“Here
you go.” He held it out to me and I nearly dove to grab it from him. Eagerly I
opened the Contacts list, but the only name there was: Aaron. There were no
photos, nothing. I was either the loneliest person on earth, or everything had
been wiped.

“What’s
this?” I lifted my eyes to find him watching me. “Don’t I have friends?”

“You’re
private. Let’s go.”

But
he made no move to leave and we just stared at each other for a moment before I
took a breath. This wasn’t right, nothing was right, but I would let it go for
now. My lips turned up into something smile like. “Sure.”

He
still didn’t move, then he sighed. “Look. I don’t know who the fuck it was that
hurt you so for the time being, I want to keep you close. And I wasn’t lying,
you are private. You don’t let people in.”
Like he could talk.
“Just
trust me, okay?” he continued.

I
clutched the phone. “Okay,” I said quietly. “It’s just that you have no idea
how weird this is for me. It’s like there’s this huge fog over my brain and
it’s so frustrating that everything that’s happened over the past few years has
just disappeared. I’m a grown-up and I don’t even know how I got this way.”
Tears pricked at my eyes and I tried to sniff them back, my lips twisting into
a smile to try and keep this emotion at bay. “And apparently I’m a loser with
no friends.” I managed to laugh sadly.

Aaron
took a step toward me, trapping my chin in his hand and wiping a tear away with
the other. “Hey, you have me.” A soft kiss was pressed onto my lips. “And
you’re not a loser.”

“Because
I’m with you?” I tried to tease, although my heart wasn’t really in it.

“In
spite of being with me.” He kissed me again, this time it was deeper and I
opened my lips to invite in his tongue. My arms came up around him, desperate
to hold onto him even though nothing about this was right. I needed him though,
I needed someone and he was the best that was on offer. My hands roamed down to
grip his ass, pulling him close to grind against me as I rubbed myself
desperately against the denim of his jeans. The moment the kiss broke I was
taking his hand and pulling him with me toward the table while I yanked my
panties down with my free hand and still searched for his mouth with mine.

“I
want you here,” I panted between kisses. “Now.” His lips dropped down to my
neck, to suck at my skin as he unfastened his jeans. It wasn’t long before his
fingers searched in me, making sure that I was wet, before being replaced by
his hard cock. He grunted as he thrust in and I gasped at the feeling of being
so full. I felt my lips turn upward as he filled me. This was familiar, this
was what I knew. It removed the sadness and filled it with fact. My ‘boyfriend’
or whatever he was, was screwing me when I didn’t know which way was up. But I
could pretend. I could pretend that he cared about me the way these feelings
inside me appeared to care about him.

I
live in a pretty house, I have a pretty man, and his pretty money

The
mantra played through my mind, over and over, as he thrust into me and I let my
nails dig into his back through his t-shirt as my body curved into him. It was
easy to forget about what I didn’t know this way. I didn’t cum, but I still
felt as if he owned my body, taking what he wanted while I clung to him because
there was nothing else.

He
stayed inside me for a few minutes, his head resting against my shoulder as he
sucked in breaths, before he eased from me gently. A quick kiss was delivered
to my lips before he turned away, pulling up his pants. I slid from the table,
pulling my panties up and adjusting my skirt. When I was ready, he took my hand
and led me to the door. I caught sight of myself in a mirror as we left, my
cheeks were flushed and my hair mussed. This was the image of any normal,
sex-driven girl, except I wasn’t normal, that was just a mask and I frowned at
her before I was tugged along behind Aaron.

He
parked his car outside a street that was filled with high-end boutiques.

“Is
this where I normally shop?” I asked. I couldn’t ever imagine having the money
to belong on a street like this.

“No.”
He got out of the car and I followed suit, eyeing up a store front window
dressed with stick-thin mannequins wearing sheer outfits. “This way.” He guided
me to another store. This one was smaller, with the name
Azalea
slashed
across the front in deep burgundy. Inside was an array of bold outfits and I
felt pale and boring in comparison as I salivated to cover my skin with the
color that was on display.

“Hello,”
beamed the saleswoman, white teeth showing and dollar signs in her eyes. Aaron
nodded in her direction but before he could speak, an older woman came out from
the back.

“Aaron.
How are you? This is a surprise.” She wrapped her arms around him, embracing
him tightly. In her stiletto heels, she was nearly as tall as him. “I’ll take
care of him, Lisa,” she said to the saleswoman, who pouted briefly before
disappearing to the rear of the store. She was tall anyway, even without the
heels. Her hair was piled on top of her head in an elegant and complicated do.
It was a vibrant red hue that went well with her pale skin. Her mouth was
painted to match and I found myself wondering how long it had taken her to find
a color that matched her hair perfectly. When she stepped back from the
embrace, she lightly rested her hands on his arms as if scared to let him go while
her eyes surveyed him. He grinned down at her with an openness that I didn’t
think he had ever really displayed with me.

“You
remember Rachel?” Aaron asked her, making no move to shrug her touch away. As
if just noticing me, she turned her head to include me in her gaze.

“Rachel,
of course. I was so sorry to hear about your dreadful accident.” She gave me a
smile that should have been sincere, but there was no warmth in her eyes. I
didn’t trust her.

“This
is Azalea. She owns this store,’ Aaron explained to me.

Great.
She was beautiful and successful. She’d be a bitch.

Finally,
she released him, clasping her hands together in front of her as if she didn’t
know what to do when she wasn’t touching him. I just gave her a nod, too tired
to feign friendliness.

“So,
what can I do for you today?” she asked, her face still stretched into a wide
smile.

“Rachel
wants some new clothes. Could you help her out?” Again he gave her a charming
grin. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to be so nice to her because this
was her fucking job after all. For the first time, she turned fully to look at
me. Something made me want to take a step back in the face of her haughty
elegance. In her presence, I felt childish and immature. No doubt, she would
find me wanting.

“Of
course. I’d be happy to help.” She escorted us to the changing rooms that were,
like at the lingerie shop, private. Aaron settled in a chair, stretching out
his long legs as champagne was brought to him. Azalea returned a short while
later, her arms filled with garments and she proceeded to show them to me. I
wasn’t really paying attention though, I was more interested in the way that
Aaron was watching her as she held up each dress against her own body and I
couldn’t help the scowl that came over me.

“Are
there any that you want to try on, Rachel?” Azalea asked.

I
brought my eyes back to her. “Paige.”

She
arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. “Excuse me?”

“My
name’s Paige,” I said harshly. In the corner of my eye, I saw Aaron frown.

“Oh,
okay,
Paige
,” Azalea continued, her forehead creasing. “I think this
would look great on you.” She held out the outfit to me with her arms stretched
out straight as if she didn’t want to get too close to me.

I
snatched it from her and marched into the changing room, the wooden door
banging behind me.

“She’s
had a head injury,” I heard Aaron explain. “It makes her act strange sometimes.
I’m sorry about her behavior.”

I
sucked in a painful breath, pissed that he was speaking about me as if I were a
child when he’d been screwing me less than an hour ago. I began to angrily pull
off my clothes, letting them fall to the floor.

“It’s
not a problem. Can I get you more champagne?” she cooed. He must have said yes,
because I heard the click clack of her heels on the tiled floor. Once that
sound faded away, I opened the door, clad in only my bra and panties. His
forehead crinkled when he saw me.

“What
are you doing? Try on some clothes.”

I
walked over to him. “I don’t want to try on clothes,” I said softly. “I want to
fuck again.” My lips curved up in a smile as I reached for the fly of his
jeans, but my hand was pushed away and I looked up at him in shock. “What the
hell are you doing?” I spat out.

“Not
here. What’s wrong with you?” he said in a low voice.

“What’s
wrong with
you?
” My hands formed into fists at my sides. “It wasn’t
wrong when you screwed me at the lingerie store? It wasn’t wrong when you
fucked me on the table a while ago.” I was trembling, my voice cracking with
each word even though I wasn’t sure why I was feeling like this. “It wasn’t
wrong the way that you’ve been screwing me this whole time and I’m just a kid,
I’m
fifteen,
and you’re an adult. A
fucking
adult.”