Stolen (9 page)

I test the waters and slide my hand up his body,
caressing as I go, curving my hand around his arm and over his shoulder before
moving back down. I place my hand, fully open, over his taught stomach and let
his warmth add to the burn already searing my skin. I close my eyes and resume
my exploration, moving my fingertips over the waistband of his jeans, motivated
to move on after hearing a breath hiss through his teeth.

I slide lower over one leg, then another, skating over
an increasingly prominent appendage. If I had any doubts before, I don’t
anymore; he wants me, and that knowledge elicits sensations I thought were long
gone.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t try to take control, as if he
knows I’m like a baby deer right now that he might frighten away, and I can’t
deny there’s probably truth to that fear.

I feel his arm tighten around me when I slide my hand
back over his leg, crawling up and over his arousal, finding his free hand
curled into a fist resting on his stomach. I pry it open, flattening his hand
with mine, strumming my fingers over his palm, each of his fingertips, and down
across his wrist, moving up his forearm and back down the same path.

 My head rises with his fervent breaths, and the
feeling is calling my body into an erotic desire I’ve never felt. I should feel
guilty, but I don’t. I feel ravenous and sinful. This is so wrong, and therein
lays the excitement. I’ve never lived so dangerously, walking the line of right
and wrong, the line of friendship and duty to past loves, but my body is
telling my mind it doesn’t give a damn, and who am I to argue with that?

I grab his free hand and use it to pull me on top of
him. His hands hold my hips firmly in place. I stroke my hand up his stomach,
his chest, and to his lips, my eyes following the same trail, resting on eyes
as dark as night with arousal. Still he doesn’t move, but the growing against
my lower regions is confirming, yet again, that I’m not doing anything he
doesn’t want as much as I do.

I stroke my thumb across his soft lower lip, staring
into his eyes all the while, inching closer until our lips are centimeters
apart. Still he does nothing. His eyes are glazed over with the same yearning I
can feel seeping through my pores. If I don’t kiss him soon we may both pass out
from the torture. I close the gap between us, and breathe in his scent, the
scent of his kiss. It isn’t familiar, but it’s also not as terrifying as I had
feared kissing someone new would feel.

I deepen the kiss, holding both sides of his face
between my hands, sucking his bottom lip into a soft but firm bite, causing his
self-control to evaporate. Desperate hands move north and into a tight grip
around my ribs, moving me away enough to be turned and laid on my back, Kyle
nestled comfortably between my open legs. Instinctively I wrap them around his
body, arching my back, thrusting my hips up to meet his. I’m pulling him down
with one hand on the back of his neck and one on the waist of his jeans. I
can’t get close enough. I need more.

A moan of epic proportion echoes through the air when
his hand begins exploring my body, first through  my hair, across my
cheek, down my throat, over the top of my chest, softly passing over my breast
and down, grabbing firmly onto my hip, filling the gap between us with a push
from me and a thrust from him. I feel feverish from the intensity, but as if I
have no control over my body, I can’t stop. I feel his body grinding into mine
and soon my body is mirroring his actions.

Oh. My. God! Too many clothes! I need to feel his
skin, feel him pressed to me completely. I pull at the hem of his shirt,
letting him finish the job, soon feeling the heat of bare skin underneath my
fingertips. He pulls my shirt over my head and throws it across the room. I
think it might have knocked over a lamp, but I can’t be sure, not that I care
what that crash was.

His lips are roaming down my chest, sliding one bra
strap off my shoulder, kissing and biting the sensitive flesh. With only his
mouth, he pushes the fabric down, exposing supple flesh and a taught nipple up
for the taking, and he does take, suckling deeply, alternating between soft and
hard bites and sucking and kissing between both. I’m fisting his hair and
crying out in blissful agony, until . . .

“Seems I’m interrupting. I just wanted to check on
Jess, but obviously she’s fine.”

My thoughts catch up just as the front door slams
shut. Holy shit! That did not just happen!

Oh! My! God! I’m so screwed. I finally let myself
feel, and it has to be with Kyle? Damn it all! And damn you, Cosmos; way to
play a fun trick on me. Haven’t you done enough already?

This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I throw
Kyle off me, righting my bra in the process, and stumble to find my shirt. I’m
near tears, but I won’t cry. I don’t know how I’m going to fix this, but I
will; I have to. I’ll do what I was trying to do and stay away from Kyle.
Hopefully between that and major groveling, Rachel will forgive me.

I don’t know when he started talking, but Kyle is
mumbling something about being sorry and that he’ll help me fix this. Yeah,
okay! How exactly does he plan on doing that, tell her he was checking if I had
a fever? Maybe we can use the classic “It just happened” excuse. I’m sure she
would believe that! Why do I ruin everything?

I snap. “Look, Kyle, this should never have happened;
in fact, this is exactly what I was trying to keep from happening. So just
don’t, okay? Just don’t! I’ll figure a way out of this or maybe I can just fuck
it all, go back to how my life was, and stop trying. This was bound to happen;
I was just stupid enough to hope it wouldn’t!”

“Wait, Jess, what are you talking about? Go back to
what? What was going to happen? I’m sorry, but please don’t run from me. Talk
to me, please! I don’t want you to go, and I don’t want to stay away from you—I
can’t. I haven’t been able to stay away since I first saw you in class.

“I admit I knew that was your favorite bookstore, and
I was in the café when I overheard you and Rachel talking. I ran to the
bookstore hoping you’d come in and was ecstatic when you did, but you’ve been
running away from me since. Why? Why won’t you talk to me?”

I halt my frantic movements, my body paralyzed and
frigid. He’s been following me? Learning what I like . . . stalking me? No, it
can’t be! I won’t believe it! Not him, not the first guy I’ve liked in so long.

No! No! No! Damn it . . . no!

As hot as my body was only minutes ago is as cold as
it is now. My eyes feel like daggers, my heart pounding for entirely new
reasons, anger completely engulfing the desire I had been feeling.

I stomp my feet as I stalk, no pun intended, toward
him, shoving him in the chest, unleashing everything on him. “Listen, asshole,
I don’t know what you think you can do to me, but I won’t let you anymore. You
were supposed to be out of my life. I haven’t heard from you in over two years
and now here you are? And what kind of fool shows himself like you have,
confessing everything to me like a total idiot?

“I know who you are now, and you won’t get away from
me this time. I won’t let you do this to me, and don’t even think of going
after Cass again!”

I spin around but keep on spinning, ending up right
back where I started, with Kyle’s hand holding firmly to my elbow. Instinct
takes over and I kick him in the knee, distracting him but unfortunately not
enough to let me go. Instead, his grip gets tighter. I’m ready for option B,
which is to scream like a Banshee, but am thwarted when his hand clasps down
over my mouth, officially silencing me.

I stop everything. I can get out of this if I have to
with some moves Bruce taught me, but I wait, seemingly patient, before
attempting anything more. He hasn’t tried to hurt me . . . yet. I’ll save up my
strength for when I really need it.

He doesn’t move his hand from over my mouth—smart move
because I would have no problem screaming—before starting to speak. “Listen, I
have no idea what you’re talking about and, honestly, it’s kinda freaking me
out, but obviously you think I’m someone I’m not. I never knew you before we
started school. I never did anything to you but try to talk to you, and I don’t
know Cass, let alone ever tried to hurt her. Please don’t be afraid of me.
Please
.”

His eyes look sincere enough, but can I rely on that
as my judgment anymore? I don’t know if I know how to tell if someone is good
or bad, or telling me the truth or lying, anymore. Maybe I never knew how.
Someone managed to slip by my radar at some point in my life and maybe that
someone is standing right in front of me.

I try to think back to my “old life” to see if he looks
familiar. Do I recognize him from somewhere, anywhere? I don’t. Of course,
people change, and I don’t know how far back in my memory I have to go. Was I
sixteen? Ten? Just born? Although that’s a bit absurd considering he’s my age,
but then again maybe it’s not just him involved. We never did officially rule
out that there weren’t others involved, but who the hell knows. The only thing
I know is I need to get out of here.

I push his hand away from my face, giving him no
choice but to believe I won’t scream, and with as much resolve as I have, stare
into the eyes that very well may be those that have been secretly watching me
all these years and I coolly confront him. “I have to go, Kyle, so I suggest
you take your hand off me.” His hand immediately drops to his side and he takes
a step back. I do the same, walking backwards away from him until I reach the
doorknob. Even then I don’t turn from him. I swing the door in with my back to
the threshold and in one swift motion step out and close the door with me.

It isn’t until now that I realize I have no idea where
I am. This is an apartment complex with all the doors opening to the outside so
at least I’m not stuck in a closed in hallway. I start to walk toward a flight
of stairs in a hurried pace, but not in a run, partly because I’m trying to
stay calm, but also because I don’t want anyone to see me running like a
criminal fleeing a crime scene; a funny statement considering the situation. I
might be running away from a criminal who has made my entire life a crime scene
with his years of torment. Too bad I’m not laughing.

At the bottom of the landing is the tenants’ parking
lot, and beyond that is a main road, near an intersection, to my great relief.
I know where I am. This is only a few blocks from campus, a few blocks till I
can get to my car, then be on my way h— Damn it, my bag is still in Kyle’s
apartment, which means I don’t have my car keys, my house keys, or my driver’s
license. Oh, my God, he’ll know where to find me! He already knows where you
live, you fool, my inner bitch reminds me. I tell her to shut up, I need to
think, and her pestering isn’t helping.

I could call someone, but I don’t have a phone. Where
is my phone anyway? Maybe I left it at the coffee shop? The sky is pitch black
except for the few stars poking through the clouds. Obviously, it’s pretty
late. Beyond that observation, I notice the few restaurants and shops nearby
are already closed; I’m thinking the café will be, too, then. Great.

The best thing I can do right now is to start walking
and, if I’m lucky, the café will be open. They’ll have my phone, and I can call
home. If I’m not so lucky, someone should be in the campus security office who
will let me use the phone to call home so mom can come get me. Maybe I should
just go there anyway so I can report Kyle as the man who has been stalking me
for three years. Bruce’s voice chimes into my brain, reminding me never to get
others involved before I talk to him directly. If I tell campus security and
they get the police involved, scaring Kyle off before Bruce can get to him, we
may never find him again. I’ll wait, but I think it would still be safer to go
to the school than to walk around by myself without any protection or a phone
to call for help.

I snap out of my inner dilemma and start paying more
attention to my surroundings. I’ve walked farther than I thought, which should
seem like a good thing, but I haven’t been paying attention at all to those
around me. Bruce would kill me if he could see me now, walking by myself at night,
my head in the clouds, or the sand, or whatever idiom you want to pin me with.
I still have to live as if I don’t know who’s been watching me all these years,
just in case Kyle is telling the truth. It’s too soon to celebrate anything
yet; way too soon.

A small part of me is questioning whether this will be
something worth celebrating. I mean, it would be great to put the bastard away
who’s ruined everything for so many years now, but will it be good if it turns
out to be Kyle? I like him. There, I said it. I like him. I don’t want to lose
him before I had him; but if it is him, then obviously I don’t want him. I
would want to be right by Bruce as he arrests him, but could it really be Kyle?
I mean, Kyle? My mind doesn’t want to accept that. My heart isn’t helping any.
It doesn’t want to believe it either.

This is all too much for one night, and I can’t forget
that Rachel saw it all. I had one friend and I screwed that relationship up
beyond repair, I’m sure. I have no one to talk to about any of this. I’m alone
once more. How many times am I going to have to be reminded of my retched
existence? I accepted a long time ago that I deserved misery, but I’m so tired
I just don’t know how much longer I can take it. I would beg for help, but who
to? The Cosmos? They’ve done plenty enough already.