Medicine Man

“That’s all you ever say,” I snap, and then try to imitate his low, growly voice. “No.”

I probably sound bratty right now. Bratty and horny. But it’s just what he makes me. He’s so stubborn and good and noble and God, I just want him to fuck me.

Why won’t he fuck me?

Simon gives me another squeeze to let me know that he isn’t happy with me. “First of all, your cousin is fucking stupid. Do you know how dangerous it is to hook up with random men? You have no idea who they are. Who they’ve been with. If they’re safe or sanitary. That’s how you end up in a ditch in a body bag. Or with an STD.” Like last night, he grabs the back of my neck and brings my face down to his. “And second of all, you’re not giving anything to anyone. All right?”

I breathe through my nose and stare into his eyes. Of course, I know that. And I don’t want to give anything to anyone, anyway.

“Then why don’t you take it?”

With a clenched jaw, he replies, “I told you, Willow. As long as you’re under my watch, you’re going to stay a virgin.”

“But I’m not gonna be under your watch for much longer.”

His grip flexes, as if it hasn’t occurred to him that I’m leaving in seven days. My incarceration is over. I’m free. Or I will be.

But I don’t want to be free.

I don’t want to go Outside. I don’t want my life back.

I want him.

If being with him means living in this bland, white, moldy-smelling hospital, with a no-touching rule, and no-going-outside rule, I’m okay. I can take it. I can sleep in this lumpy twin bed, talk through walls, read the same books over and over. I can get startled awake by the whimpering and nightmares and noises of purging. I can take the humiliation of opening my mouth, showing them if I’ve really swallowed the meds or if I’m faking.

I’ll take all the pills they will give me. Nausea, insomnia, night sweats and chills – I’ll take it all as long as I get to be with him.

“Please, Simon,” I beg, grazing our lips against each other. “If you don’t, someone else will. And it’ll hurt.”

He closes his eyes and breathes deep.

I place soft kisses all over his jaw, his face, his eyelids. “Please. He’ll make it hurt and I don’t want to hurt, Simon.”

“Willow.”

My name on his lips is a growl. A thick, tortured growl and I just want to swallow it up. I want to swallow him up.

“Please don’t say no. Please, Simon. What if he isn’t careful with me? I told you my pussy is so tight. It’s so small.” I’m at his neck right now, drinking the leftover drops of rain, licking his salty skin.

He fists my hair and moves me away from him. “Willow, now’s the time to shut the fuck up, all right?”

Even though I don’t have access to his skin with my lips, I rock against his pelvis, all the while hating the fact that we’re wearing clothes. If we weren’t, I’d show him, I’d make him feel how wet I am. How I’m almost gushing for him.

“It is,” I insist, ignoring his command to shut up. “I promise. I’m not lying. You c-can put your finger inside me and see for yourself. It’s tiny.”

“I’m warning you, Willow.”

In any other situation, his growls would probably scare me. But not right now. Nothing scares me. Least of all him. I don’t have any space in my mind, my heart, my body for fear. It’s all desire and urgency.

I’m all need for him. I’m all me. Not a single drop of my illness.

I slide my fingers inside the open collar and touch his warm, smooth skin. “I know you’ll be careful with it. I know you’ll take care of me. Please.”

I feel his chest vibrating, and he tightens his grip on my hair. “Have you been thinking about it all day? How to manipulate me into fucking you?”

“Yes,” I say truthfully.

My answer makes him widen his stance like he won’t budge no matter how much I push him. “I’m not fucking you. You don’t want to get fucked.”

I undo the top button of his shirt and slide my hand even lower. But he stops me. He puts his palm flat on mine and doesn’t let me go anywhere. I look into his eyes, hard and dark and swimming with lust.

My heart squeezes in my chest. And again, I want to ask him. I want to ask him about the things he’s been hiding. About why he won’t let himself have me.

He’s so magnificent. Why can’t he see that?

“You make me happy, Simon. No one’s ever made me happy before,” I tell him, ironically with tears in my eyes.