The Way She Burns

Do I imagine the way her pupils dilate, the pulse leaping at the base of her neck?

Are those signs of arousal a trick of light being played by the moonlit hallway?

Her voice is huskier when she speaks. “Why do you suddenly want us to stay?”

I’m starting to think I never would have allowed her to leave, deal or no deal. Allow this beauty to disappear back into the night carrying a child more than half her size? That would have cracked me down the middle. In the way only Chloe can. But I’m trying to earn her trust and after what I’ve done, that will be a slow, brick by brick process. “Maybe the selfless way you care for your brother makes me realize how far I’ve strayed from basic decency.” I look her in the eye. “I can’t be sorry about taking you, Chloe. You were…you are too fucking sweet. But I am sorry for making it an obligation. I’m sorry for being so goddamn rough about it. Are you…” Christ, is there a harpoon sinking into my chest? “Are you hurt at all?”

“No.” She starts to reach out, to touch my arm, but slowly draws it back as if I’ll burn her fingertips. “No…I told you earlier, I’m fine.”

My heart labors to work. “Fine isn’t the same as good.”

“Sebastian.” She flushes, looking down at the floor. “You gave me pleasure.”

“No, I forced it out of you,” I say through my teeth. “You deserved better.”

“No. You’re wrong about that,” she blurts, immediately looking exasperated with herself. Like she wants to melt back into the hallway wall.

I stare down at the middle part of her dark hair, stunned speechless. Spurring myself into motion, I reach past her and close the bedroom door to prevent us from waking up the sleeping child. “You don’t deserve better?” My voice is low, furious, a lot like my pulse. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Can we just pretend I didn’t say that?”

“No.”

I cross my arms and wait, suppressing the urge to pick her up, carry her back to my bedroom and find a more creative way to get the truth out of her. “It’s just that…” She covers her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this. I’ve never told anyone and it’s going to sound ridiculous when I say it out loud.”

“Say it anyway, Chloe.”

She straightens her shoulders, takes a deep breath. “I’ve had this rebellious streak, ever since…well. Around the age we met. Thirteen.” Her eyes flit to mine, then away quickly. “Sort of a restlessness inside of me. It builds and builds and when it gets to be too much, I have to expend my energy somehow. Running through the fields on the outside of town. Twirling like a lunatic in the rain. Swimming in the ocean. I have to exhaust myself or it feels like I’m going to…explode. It’s not normal.”

Understanding dawns. Along with a fresh wave of arousal. “Ah, baby.” I conform my hand to the side of her face. “I’m a man. I don’t have any experience with growing girls, except for the one who almost went headfirst over my cliff. But I know that’s around the age young people start to…change. Hormones act up. You don’t even want to know what that meant for me as a thirteen-year-old boy.” God, I shouldn’t be asking her this next question. It’s inappropriate, but she seems genuinely upset and I don’t like her having the belief that she doesn’t deserve pleasure. I want to solve the problem, which means understanding the whole picture. “Did no one teach you how to touch yourself, Chloe?”

The skin of her cheek turned hotter against my palm. “I asked my mother to show me when the ache became too fierce, but it embarrassed her. She only prayed for me, urging me to read the Bible for hours on end, hoping it would inspire my body to be at peace. But it never helped. I ached and ached and she still wouldn’t talk to me about sex. I wasn’t even sure how…how a woman fits a man until you…fit into me tonight.” Jesus, my seed almost paints the front of my pants at that quiet uttering. Until you fit into me tonight. For the rest of my life, every time I think of her saying those words, I’m going to jack myself raw. “But I tried, over and over again, to touch myself when I was alone and nothing felt as good as…”

“As good as what, Chloe?”

Several seconds tick by, before she whispers. “As when you held me on the cliff.” When her eyes finally meet mine, there is lust banked in their hazel depths, tightening my stomach muscles. “Every time I put my fingers there, I was worried. About being caught. That what I was doing was wrong. Being overwhelmed by the threat of punishment. I needed to feel…safe. And the only time I ever felt safe, maybe in my whole life, was with you.”