“Turn,” she mewls and I do, crashing down on top of her as my knees hit her bed. She rolls, straddling me. I can barely make her out in the dark, but my hands feel her skin burn against the pads of my fingers. Her shirt is gone and mine is next. I should be doing something to help her undress, but her porcelain skin mesmerizes me.
I sit up and kiss the valley between her breasts, lowering her bra. She arches when I bring her pebbled nipple into my mouth, tugging gently. Her fingers grab a handful of hair as she pulls me back, pushing me onto her bed. Layla moves my arms to rest above my head. I keep them there as if I’m being tied down. The clank of my belt and the pulling of the buttons on my jeans is the only indication that she’s still with me. My mind fogs over and the lights from the cars below create an array of colors and designs. My eyes follow the patterns on her ceiling as she pulls my jeans and boxers down.
I look at her briefly, the street light outside providing enough illumination for me to see that she’s poised and hungry. Her eyes don’t leave mine as her tongue snakes out and licks the tip of my cock. Steady and focused, she watches me as I watch her take me into her warm mouth. For a moment, my eyes roll back, lost in this euphoric state. I want to reach for her, but my arms are heavy, weighted down and unable to move. My hips buck as she sucks harder.
“She hates me,” I blurt out, unable to control or even comprehend what I’m saying. Layla kisses a path up my torso, biting my nipple before kissing me deeply.
“I’ll make it all better,” she whispers against my lips as she sinks down on my erection. Her nails dig into my chest, inviting pain to surface. I scream out, encouraging her for more, begging her to put me out o
f my misery and she does. She takes everything that I can give her, pushing me to the brink.
“Fuck,” I hiss as she rides me, our skin slapping against each other. She throws her head back and screams my name.
My name on her lips in ecstasy spurs me on harder. I bring my hips up and push into her deeper, faster. She screams. Is it pain or pleasure? I don’t know because I don’t know her, not like I know... shit, this is wrong. Everything about her is wrong, but I can’t stop. My body doesn’t allow it. My dead carcass is the captain of my being and it’s telling me what to do. I have no control. I am nothing, if not a pawn in its game to get over the hurt and pain I’ve caused.
I need this. I need to feel and be felt. I need to let go.
The sound of horns honking and people yelling reverberate through my ears. I try to cover them, to block out the noise but to no avail. My head feels like there’s a jackhammer in there creating a sinkhole only it’s not for me to escape but to let more noise in.
I open my eyes slowly only to be blinded by direct sunlight. I turn my face into the mattress and smell perfume. Someone shifts next to me, causing me to stiffen. I peek out over my arm and see a mess of red hair and alabaster skin. I rise up on my arms as confusion sets in. Nothing about this room or the girl next to me seems familiar. I roll over and sit up, using the eggplant purple sheet to cover my waist. I scrub my hands over my face, but quickly stop because of the throbbing. I hold my head in my hands and try to remember the night before. It’s all a haze. There was music, a few beers, dancing and Layla, the woman who captivated me on stage and offered to make the pain go away.
Layla stirs next to me, turning over to face me. The energy and excitement she had last night lays dormant, waiting for her to come to life again. She looks at ease, peaceful, even as she lies next to me. There’s no doubt she’s beautiful, stunning even. It feels wrong and awkward to stare at her naked form, but I can’t help it. I was with her last night and she’ll never know the magnitude of what that means.
I never thought in a million years I’d be here like this. I honestly hadn’t given much thought to how my life was going to be after I left Beaumont, but I never thought I’d end up in bed with another woman so soon, or even at all. I lie back down with hopes of alleviating the headache. I should get up and leave, commit the walk of shame that so many of my teammates have done in the past, but the effort on my part is lacking. I’ve never had such a bad hangover before and know it has something to do with that pill she gave me… no that I took from her without reservation.
First the smoking and now some form of recreational drug use. At least it wasn’t snorting coke or sticking a needle in my arm. I’m not stupid enough to do that and I really hope I never get to that point in my life.
I roll onto my side and watch Layla sleep. What is it about her that would make me forget my worries; forget the pain I’m causing myself? From the moment I met her after her show, she had me captivated with the way she carried herself. I shouldn’t feel like this, not after what I’ve done. I shouldn’t want to reach out and let my fingers trail over her soft skin or push my hands into her hair, but I do and I am.
Her skin pebbles in the wake of my fingers touching her. I try not to laugh, but can’t help it. Layla stirs, the sheet falling just below her breast, a breast that I became very acquainted with last night and have an urge to get to know again. I don’t know the protocol here and I could be wrong for staying in bed like this, for wanting to touch her again.
“You’re tickling me,” she mumbles. I stop and rest my hand on my hip, realizing it’s time for me to go. I don’t know if I should kiss her on the cheek or just leave. What I do know is that I shouldn’t be here, not anymore. This isn’t right for me. I shouldn’t want to touch another woman like this. I don’t deserve to.
Before I can move, before I can get away with just the shame in my heart, Layla is staring at me with her honey colored eyes. Her make-up is heavy and still in place from last night, the complete opposite of what I’m used to.
“I’m going to go.” I say this mostly for my own benefit and peace of mind. Does she really care if I stay, probably not?
Layla pulls the sheet down exposing me for all to see… or just her since we’re behind a closed door. This is my cue and I’m taking it. I start to roll over, only to be stopped by her climbing on top of me and now I’m seeing all of her in the morning light with the sunlight kissing her skin.
“Do you really want to leave?” she asks as she kisses her way up my chest and to my neck, her body rocking against me creating friction. “I thought maybe we’d have breakfast.”
She’s thinking about food?
“Um… sure, breakfast sounds good.” I swallow hard and close my eyes to try and calm down. I try to think about anything other than Layla being naked and sitting on top of me, but the ministrations she’s providing is making it impossible. The last thing I want to do is walk out of here with a raging boner and run into her roommate, if she has one. I haven’t a clue what to expect on the other side of that door, but I’d prefer to do it without a tent in my pants.
“Good, I really like breakfast in the morning,” she whispers in my ear. The sound of foil ripping is enough to make my eyes spring open. I lift my head enough to follow her actions as she rolls a condom on my waiting erection. I hope, no I pray, that we used one last night. I hate that I don’t remember and it pains me to think that we didn’t because I was in too much of a haze to remember to put on a coat.
Layla slides down my cock, her head falls back and her mouth drops open. She uses my stomach as a tool to push herself up and down. Even though I’ve been here many times before, I’m at a loss as to where I should put my hands. All I know is I want them all over her. I need them to be on her to help me forget the pain that I’m living with. I want her to help me block it out. To shut out the voices that are constantly screaming inside of my head, telling me that I’m the worst of the worst.
She doesn’t wait for me to stop fighting with myself. She reaches for my hands, placing them on her breasts as she rides me. I want to be in control. I don’t remember much from last night, but apparently she does and it’s about time that I do. I move my hands to her waist and flip her over. Everything about her is foreign, but what we’re doing seems natural even if I feel like this is wrong, like I’m cheating.
I sit back on my knees and pull her hips to me, sliding her up and down over my shaft. I can’t read her, not like… I shake my head to clear the thought. I don’t want to think about her, not right now, not like this. I lean forward and silence her moans with my mouth, morning breath be damned. We’ve already shared enough and we haven’t even been on a date. That thought alone almost breaks me. I can’t do a relationship. It’s not in me to even try with someone else. I shouldn’t even be here and if she hadn’t called, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have needed someone or something to take the pain away.
Layla’s frantic beneath me, her hands grab at any part of my body that she can get too. My head rears back when her nails sink into my back. Everything about this moment is intense and different from anything I’ve ever experienced before. I thrust into her harder as I feel her tightening around my cock. She bites my lower lip, I cry out, not only from the pain, but from my release as I fill the condom.
I collapse on top of her and carefully pull out making sure the condom stays in place. The last thing I need is an accident. I don’t know her that well, but she’s on her way to stardom and she doesn’t need me complicating her life.
“Was that breakfast?” I ask, out of breath.