Tiny fractures, p.39
Tiny Fractures, page 39
Ronan pulled off the freeway, just came to a dead stop on the side of the road somewhere, and got out of the driver’s seat to come around to my side. The way he talked to me, the way he held my hands and wouldn’t break eye contact—it meant more to me than anything. I could see my pain reflected in his eyes, something that I’ve never experienced with anyone. When he used the word abuse to describe what Adam did to me, I think I realized for the first time that, yes, that is what Adam was doing to me. And it’s crazy because Ronan recognized it and he gave it a word when I never could.
There was so much meaning to Ronan’s words as his eyes were locked on mine. In the end he asked me what I needed, what he could do for me, and honestly, I just needed him. So, I told him, and we drove to Shane’s in near complete silence before he carried me into the house and into one of the spare bedrooms, where he went to lie down with me. It’s really not a huge thing, but this small gesture of just being with me, his physical touch—so gentle and comforting—means the world to me.
I lie facing Ronan, my hands on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath as he kisses my forehead, making my eyes fall shut.
“Thank you,” I whisper, breaking the silence for the first time since we arrived, “for… just… for today.”
I realize the day turned into a complete crapshoot. I raise my head to look at Ronan. It’s dark in the room because Ronan didn’t turn on any lights before laying us down, but I can see the reflection of the moon in his eyes.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says quietly. “I’d do it over again in a heartbeat.”
“Does it hurt a lot?” I ask, moving my hand from his chest and touching his bruised cheek gently. It looks painful.
He shakes his head. “Not really. And even if it did, it’s completely worth it.”
I glide my fingers down his cheek to his lip. It’s still a little swollen where Adam hit him and split Ronan’s skin open. Seeing the physical sacrifice Ronan made to keep me safe from Adam sends a rush of longing through me, and I crash my lips against Ronan’s without warning. I feel his hand tightening on my hip, his fingers digging into my skin, and he pulls me even closer against him. We’re both so pent up with tension from today, and right now all I need is for him to touch me, to make me forget, and I want to do the same for him.
I part my lips and his tongue delves into my mouth, exploring, tasting me, licking my lips. He pushes me back against the bed, positioning himself to hover over me, his forearms on either side of me. His hand moves down my waist and over the apple of my hip to my thigh, then he slides it over my jeans and between my legs. I can feel the warmth of his hand through the fabric, and it’s enough to make me moan.
“Ran, can you touch me like you did last night?” I whimper.
“Are you sure?” he breathes against my mouth, his chest rising and falling fitfully.
“Uh-huh,” I moan again.
He moves his hand and pulls my thighs apart, then situates one leg between them, pushing it against me. I gratefully grind against him while his left hand pushes my shirt up over my bra, leaving a scorching-hot path where his fingers touch my hyper-sensitive skin.
I run my hands under his shirt and up his back, eager to memorize his taut muscles. I pull his shirt over his head and his hands momentarily leave my body so I can pull his shirt off him. I incline onto my elbows, my mouth leaving his lips, hungry to taste him as I kiss his jaw, then neck. He groans when I reach his shoulder, my hand in his hair, tugging at the roots as I pull him down to me. He rubs his leg against me while his left hand slides up my bare stomach and to my breast and I thrust against him again, wanting his hands all over me. He cups my breast while I kiss his shoulder, then his hand moves up and he pulls the lacy fabric of my bra down, exposing my nipple. He grazes his thumb across it again and again, my nipple pebbling with arousal. I fall back against the pillows, completely lost in him and in the way his hands feel on my skin.
Ronan kisses the sensitive skin on my neck, nipping and licking a path to my chest, then circles my hard nipple with his tongue. He keeps pushing me toward the edge with his mouth while I grind against his leg slowly, sending delicious waves of electricity straight to my core where the pleasure builds like it did last night. I can’t contain my moaning; I’m close. Just as the mounting wave of pleasure is about to crest, Ronan moves his leg, and the pressure between my aching thighs ebbs.
“Please don’t stop,” I whimper under him, and he chuckles in a husky voice. He glides his hand between my legs, but he doesn’t linger there and instead undoes the button of my jeans, pulling the zipper down. He begins to kiss a trail from my breast down my stomach, licking my belly button, then the spot below it. It tickles, but in the best possible way as his soft lips caress my hot skin. I angle my knees and lift my hips, allowing Ronan to pull my jeans down to my knees and off me, revealing my black lacy panties.
“This is as far as I’ll go until you tell me you want more,” Ronan says, his voice gravelly as he repositions himself between my legs. His mouth seeks and finds my nipple for a second time, eclipsing any thought in my head, and I’m once again lost to him, his touch consuming me. I grind into him while he licks, kisses, and sucks my nipples, alternating between my breasts, his left hand softly stroking my inner thigh while his leg rubs against me. The pleasure begins to swirl anew, stronger still, hotter, and I feel my arousal soaking into my panties.
“God, Ran,” I moan loudly, my breathing out of control, eyes shut when he grates his teeth carefully against my sensitive nipple, and the pleasure builds in my core. I’m almost there when he moves his leg away again, resulting in a frustrated groan at being denied climax for a second time in a row. This must be what edging feels like, and while I want nothing more than to reach that blissful high, I can’t deny that each time Ronan pushes me to the brink only to let off again, the pleasure that rebuilds just moments later is even more powerful, more intense than before.
“Fuck, I love how badly you want this,” Ronan says, his gravelly voice low, quiet, filled with need of his own. He glides his hand up my thigh, pushes my panties aside, then begins to stroke me. I moan gratefully at the feeling of his fingers on my bare needy flesh. It only takes him a few soft sweeps to find the perfect spot, the perfect pressure, and I’m pulled under the waves of pleasure, ecstasy pulsing exquisitely through my body.
I thrust my hips against Ronan’s hand, arching my body into him, his mouth still tasting my nipple while he continues to stroke me. It’s all-consuming, addictive, and I wish it would go on forever. When I finally regain control, his breathing is as erratic as mine.
My eyes settle on his, still hovering over me. He looks high, his pupils blown wide with need, almost completely swallowing the green of his irises. I wonder how that’s even possible since I did nothing for him while I’m here once again, my body feeling like it dissolved under his touch.
“I keep doing this to you,” I whisper, and gently glide my hands up the curve of his back. His skin is so soft, so smooth, yet his back is strong and hard as his muscles flex to hold himself up.
“What do you mean?” he asks, his eyes bright like they get when he’s really turned on. I can still feel his hardness pressing against my leg.
“This.” I wag a finger between his chest and mine. “We get all worked up, and in the end only I find relief,” I explain, feeling guilty.
He chuckles, then places a soft kiss against my lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll get relief,” he says, his voice teasing. He rolls my nipple between his fingers, causing electricity to shoot straight to my core. “I’ll just have to do it myself,” he adds, a smile on his perfect lips.
“How long… how long did you take under the shower last night?” I ask, blinking at him shyly. I can’t believe I’m prying into something this private.
There’s a mischievous little gleam in Ronan’s eyes as he grins at me. “Are you asking about the actual shower or just…” he trails off.
“Just… just the… you know.” I bite my bottom lip, feeling the telltale heat creep up my neck.
Ronan chuckles. “Probably thirty to sixty—”
“Minutes?” I interrupt him, my eyes wide.
“Seconds,” he corrects me with a husky laugh.
I raise my eyebrows at him. “That fast?” I feel both surprised and kind of proud at the same time.
Ronan nods. “Yeah. I mean, I was under the shower longer than that, obviously, but yeah.” He shrugs and I think I note some slight embarrassment in his eyes. “I told you it wouldn’t take me long to take care of… the issue. Baby, I don’t want to put any pressure on you, so please don’t take it as that, but… I’m really pent-up,” he says with a low groan. “And when we do things like we did last night… when I touch you like that, when I hear you make those little sounds and watch you… come….” He exhales noisily, shaking his head slightly as if trying to clear it of the titillating memories. “Let’s just say I was locked and loaded,” he adds with another chuckle.
I contemplate him.
“Is this even enjoyable to you? You know, last night and… just now?” I ask. With Adam, it was always about what he could get out of the situation, never about what I wanted… or didn’t.
Ronan pushes up off his elbows, supporting himself with his hands now, creating more space between our bodies. I want to pull him back down toward me. “Fuck, yes I’m enjoying this,” he says, his face sincere as he locks eyes with me.
“But how can you when you don’t… when we don’t…” I trail off, feeling embarrassed.
“Have sex?” he finishes for me, and I nod. “Because it’s really not about that,” he says, and moves out from between my legs. His eyes lazily roll over my body. “Sex isn’t everything. I mean, do I want to feel you all the way? I’d be a lying piece of shit if I said ‘no.’ Fuck, Cat, just the way you sound, your facial expression when you get turned on, when you lose control, fuck, it gets me so worked up. It’s seriously the biggest turn-on to know I can make you feel like that,” he says, his breathing picking up again. “But I told you I’m not going to push you, and I won’t. It’s more important to me that you feel safe and that when you say you’re ready, it’s really what you want,” he finishes resolutely.
I do feel safe with him. I feel completely protected, and not just physically—my soul as well.
A mischievous grin spreads across my face. “So, you’d be okay just doing this for the next year? Never going all the way?”
His face takes on a pained expression before he nods, swallowing hard. “Yep,” he says, then tries to plaster a smile on his gorgeous face.
“Really?” I say, then slowly slide my fingers down his bare chest, tracing his abs to the spot just above his jeans, grazing his skin. “You’ll wait forever and ever?” I glide one finger underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs.
His breath hitches, but still he nods. “Forever and ever,” he stammers, his bright-green eyes threatening to shut under my touch.
“Are you sure?” I breathe against him, inclining my mouth only an inch from his. I know I’m teasing him, and I know I shouldn’t. It’s such a shitty thing to do when I don’t have any intention of taking it further tonight. It’s exactly what got me in trouble with Adam, but I trust Ronan more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. I trust that I can be playful and flirty with him without him going nuclear on me.
“Uh-huh,” he groans when I begin to kiss his jawline down to his neck, and his eyes fall shut. I’m inching my hand further down his jeans, but never quite reaching all the way down to touch him. I can feel his body tense with anticipation, wanting to feel my touch on him.
“Are you two okay in there?” Tori’s dampened voice seeps through the door, and I instantly withdraw my hand.
“Why does the universe hate me?” Ronan grumbles under his breath, making me laugh.
“We’re fine,” I say loudly. “We’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay, no worries. They all just bugged me to check on you guys. Vada and Shane said they already have bad track records. Not sure what that means, but… see you in a minute,” Tori says, and I listen as her footsteps recede on the tiled floor.
“We should get out there, huh?” I turn my attention back to Ronan. His eyes are still bright and hooded with want, and I trace my index finger over his heated lips.
“No. In fact, we should never leave this room,” he sighs and leans in to kiss me softly.
“But we’d get all gross from not showering, and we’d starve, and then they’d find us dead in here together.”
Ronan shrugs his shoulders. “Dying in your arms actually sounds pretty peaceful,” he says, his voice taking on a different tone. I’m taken aback by the sudden sadness in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I wonder, searching his eyes for a reason of the sudden shift in mood.
“Nothing,” he says, and I raise my eyebrows at him. “It’s just kind of been an exhausting day, don’t you think?” I nod because, yes, it has been a draining day. “Alright, enough of this depressing shit. Let’s go,” he says and takes my hand, pulling me up to stand.
I pull my shirt and underwear back into place and slide back into my jeans while Ronan picks up his shirt and slips it over his head. I watch him the whole time, and he grins when he catches me staring.
“Like what you see?” he asks with a wicked grin, and to my surprise I don’t blush.
“Can’t say that I don’t,” I admit, smiling.
“Good. It’s all yours whenever you want it,” he says, and a by-now-familiar tingle forms in my stomach as he interlaces his fingers with mine and leads me out of the bedroom and onto the deck where our friends are hanging out.
***
We join our friends outside, taking our seats on the rattan sofa. Shane lights the fire pit and we roast smores while we chat about the craziness that was today. I haven’t told anyone about my history with Adam—well, except Ronan, of course—and I can tell they’re curious, though kind enough not to pry.
I decide to just come clean. Well, as much as I did with Ronan, I guess. I’m still not ready to disclose my transgression, my betrayals. I’m too ashamed to admit my complete lack of better judgment while I was in my short-lived relationship with Adam and not only allowed a guy to take compromising and vulnerable pictures of me, but continued to do so under threat of being found out. But I do tell them about the escalating physical violence Adam inflicted on me. I owe my friends at least that much. After all, they all witnessed what went down. Ronan threw himself in harm’s way to protect me, and so did Shane, Steve, and Zack.
Nobody speaks while I share with my friends. Ronan holds my hand the entire time, and when I get to the part where Adam started to choke me and tears begin to fall again, he pulls me onto his lap. I can feel his body tense with each additional detail that I haven’t previously shared with him. I really lay out the things Adam did to me during the five months we dated, the increasingly violent confrontations and arguments we had.
“Jesus, I get why Ran was on the brink of beating this guy to death,” Steve says when I finish, and Shane and Zack nod in unison.
“I don’t think I would have been able to stop if it hadn’t been for you and Shay pulling me away from this guy,” Ronan admits, and by the sound of his voice I know he means it. I look into his eyes, a mix of emotions rushing through my body: pain that I was the reason he was hurt today, but also so much gratitude that he was there to protect me.
“This Adam guy sounds like a real fucking douche,” Vada huffs. “Honestly, he looks like a douche, too,” she adds. “How ever did you end up with him, Kitty Cat?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. He didn’t seem like a bad guy in the beginning. He was really nice, actually. But I guess I enjoyed the attention. It’s stupid, right?” I ask, feeling embarrassed that I fell for Adam’s crap, and that I didn’t leave him after the first time he became violent. Heck, I should have left the first time he called me a slut, the first time he made me feel less than, way before he ever put his hands on me.
The longer I’m with Ronan, the more I understand that what I went through with Adam wasn’t normal. And, of course, I always knew that. I always knew it wasn’t okay for someone to belittle their girlfriend, to call her names, and to hit her, but it’s so different being in that situation because I didn’t recognize it as abuse. It started off so innocent, so sporadic, and I looked past it because when things were good they were really good. But once I allowed Adam to overstep my boundaries, he knew he could keep pushing them just a little bit more each time until they were essentially nonexistent, until it became really, really dangerous.
It was similar with the photos. It started out innocently enough, Adam telling me I looked beautiful before snapping a picture of me. Soon he began asking me for more and more compromising pictures, requesting I show more skin, wear less clothing. I was reluctant at first but acquiesced because he was my boyfriend, after all. It wasn’t until a couple months into our relationship that I learned about Adam taking photos of me at parties. Some of them were taken while I was passed out, drunk off my ass after overstepping my boundaries. Others appeared to depict me willingly exposing myself to Adam, though I can’t remember any of it. Even then he threatened to make the pictures public. He held them over my head to make me fall in line when I was being “difficult” because I tried to set a personal boundary. He’d egg me on, tease me, joke about sharing the pictures with his buddies or teammates. Come to think of it, I’m not sure he didn’t actually make good on that last part.
