11. Chapter 11

Chapter 1 1

Lacey

I used to think being the broken girl meant I was destined to be alone.

Being made of pieces instead of a whole means that when it comes to love, I no longer have a heart to give. Only fragments, sharp edges of the decisions I've made and the regrets I will always carry.

But now, holding Skylar in my arms, I realize that you don't need to be complete to love someone. You just need enough pieces to fill the empty spaces between the ones they are missing.

Skylar closes his eyes and slumps against me, the wind knocked out of his sails. I gently comb my nails through his hair, feeling the delicate strands part for my fingers.

"You have really soft hair." I murmur the words in his ear, hoping for a huff of laughter. He stays silent, but thankfully his ragged breathing starts to slow .

I play with his hair some more, not because I think it's helping, but because it's too pretty not to play with. Skylar shivers when my fingers graze the back of his neck and I can't stop the jolt of lust that races through me. Our bodies are completely intertwined, and with every inhale, I can feel Skylar's chest pressed tight against my mine.

On every exhale, the unbreakable clasp of his hands.

"I use conditioner." He whispers against my skin, sending goosebumps in every direction. I clutch him tighter, the air around us growing thick with a different kind of tension.

Skylar nuzzles my neck gently and I close my eyes as desire washes over me. My nails dig into his shoulder when he presses a kiss against my throat.

"I don't deserve you."

"Yes. You do."

He shakes his head before planting another kiss on my neck, slowly creeping his way upward.

"If I was strong, I would drive you home and never look back." He pauses to skim his lips along my jawline, "I would let you run as far away from me as possible."

Heat pools between my legs and a whimper escapes my mouth.

"Don't be strong then."

His tongue sneaks out to lick the sensitive skin beneath my ear. I gasp, arching into him and he groans softly.

"I will never be your hero, Flower. I'm not ambitious and I'm not brave. "

He catches my earlobe between his teeth and tugs it gently.

"I'm not even cool enough to be a villain."

I grab his face and pull him up until those bloodshot eyes are on mine. His hair is wild and tangled, his eyes are swollen and puffy, and his flawless skin is tainted with red splotches running along his cheeks. He's a complete and utter disaster.

Yet so perfect for me.

"Why would I want a hero or a villain when I can have a boy who leaves me messages on sunshine tissues?"

Skylar stares at me with dilated pupils, his heavy breathing pushing against my chest. I cradle his face, rubbing off the last of the grainy residue.

"It's not even a competition because I choose you." Wrapping my arms around his neck, I breathe out the unfiltered truth, "I will always choose you, Skylar."

His mouth is on mine the moment his name leaves my lips. I stumble back, bumping into the edge of his bed, and we go tumbling on top of it. Our lips stay fused together as Skylar rolls over so we're side-by-side, carefully keeping his weight off of me.

My lips part and his tongue slips inside, drawing out soft moans with every stroke. Body burning with desire, my hands wander down the length of his back before sneaking under the edge of his shirt. He hisses out a breath when my fingers brush his bare skin.

"Is this okay?" I whisper the question and he responds by sitting up and pulling his shirt over his head .

Lying back on the bed, I soak in the sharp edges of his narrow chest, pale skin and lean muscles greeting me at every turn. My eyes drop to the skin stretched tight over his stomach and I let out a gasp.

"You said you weren't an athlete!"

Skylar blinks, his gaze unfocused as he glances from me to his exposed torso.

"I'm not."

"Liar." I point accusingly at the abdominal muscles obscuring my vision, "How do you explain those then?"

He shrugs, "Skinny boy abs. It's a thing."

"Nuh uh. Those are fit boy abs."

His face lights up with a smile, "I didn't realize there was a distinction. Do you want me to put my shirt back on?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

I pull him back down and relish in the quiet laughter flowing through his body. Amber was right, Skylar does have the most beautiful smile.

But nothing beats feeling it pressed against my own.

My palms press against his skin and he tenses, reaching up to grip the comforter above my head. Sliding my hands upward, I trace every bump and line as Skylar latches his lips back on mine. I'm memorizing every inch of his skin, feeling every shiver that goes through him, but it doesn't take long for me to realize something is wrong.

Breaking away, I glance at the white knuckles clenching the comforter .

"Skylar?"

"Yes, Flower?"

"Why aren't you touching me?"

He blinks, our proximity close enough that I can see the thought process flash through his eyes.

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

A blush hits my cheeks and Skylar lets go of the comforter to stroke it.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you."

I bite my lip, tears threatening to make an appearance, "How did you know I would be uncomfortable?"

How did you know I wasn't normal?

Shifting to rest his head on the pillow, Skylar looks at me with swollen lips and flushed cheeks. There's no judgement in his gaze, but I find myself holding my breath all the same.

"The first night we met you shied away from my touch." He lifts a narrow shoulder, "For years my mom flinched when someone came too close, her body instinctively reacting from years of abuse. I figured it might be a similar situation for you."

My bottom lip starts to tremble, "Am I that obvious?"

"No. I just happen to know what to look for."

I close my eyes, fighting not to let a single tear slip out. Skylar presses his thumb against my bottom lip and his voice drops to a whisper.

"It's okay, Flower. Your secret is safe with me. "

Losing the battle, I feel a tear run down my cheek. Here I am, wrapped up in the only person who understands me, and I can't let go of the past long enough to enjoy this moment.

I am so tired of being the broken girl.

Peeling my eyes open, I find Skylar studying me. His white hair seems to glow against the dark pillowcase, a polar opposite to the dark strands covering my own. A flicker of desire sneaks its way down my body as I stare at the beautiful boy beside me.

I don't want to be broken anymore.

Not with Skylar.

"Can you touch me?" The blush returns with a vengeance but I don't break eye contact, "Please?"

For a terrifying moment, I think he's going to say no. Dropping my gaze to prolong the mortification, I watch Skylar's chest collapse on an exhale.

"You never have to say please." He clears his throat, the gravel in it making my heartbeat quicken, "Not when you're with me."

I open my mouth to apologize then quickly close it. Skylar smiles in approval.

"How do you want to do this?" He pauses, "I mean, where do you want me to touch you?"

"Everywhere."

My immediate response has Skylar muttering a curse. He closes his eyes, his lips silently moving as if he's giving himself a pep talk. A giggle slips out of my mouth and the sound has Skylar glancing at me with bright eyes.

"Okay. I'm ready. "

He doesn't ask if I'm ready, we both know I'm not. Fear races through my system as I shift over and lie back, struggling to breathe as the memories flood back in.

Jerrell, stop. You're hurting me.

Shh, it'll feel better in a moment.

No, please. Just stop.

It'll get better, baby. Just push through for me, okay?

"Flower?"

Skylar's soft voice breaks through the darkness. Gulping down a breath, I focus on the patience and understanding shining through his mismatched eyes.

This won't be like last time.

Skylar won't hurt me.

Repeating the mantra over and over, I reach for my last shred of courage and give him a nod.

"Go ahead."

Skylar

I want his name and social security number.

Seeing the fear fill Lacey's eyes when she lay back on my bed was enough to make me want to break something. Even now, I can feel the rage curdling my blood as I look at her, fidgeting nervously while she waits for me to touch her.

My flower thinks I'm going to hurt her.

The thought puts a lump in my throat and I have to flex my fingers against the comforter to keep them from reaching for a pen. The pressure in my chest is uncomfortable, but not unbearable, so I force the anger aside and focus my attention on the petrified girl lying next to me.

A part of me wants to call this whole thing off and drive Lacey home so she can think about what she wants, but the other part of me is dying to touch her. Having her legs wrapped around me in the bookstore earlier today filled my head with too many ideas, graphic ideas that no respectable man should have.

My hands twitch again, but this time it's not for a need to draw.

I want to trace every inch of her body. No amount of artistic talent would ever do her justice, but I want to try. I want to study every divot and dimple, discover every freckle and mole and paint them with my lips. I want to find out what makes her shudder and what makes her scream. And then I want to do it all again and capture it through ink on a page.

But more than that, I want to see Lacey comfortable around me. See her let down her guard until I can strip off her insecurities and help her forget her past for a little while.

Swallowing the lustful thoughts racing through my head, I slowly reach out and touch her shoulder. She flinches but doesn't move away.

I fucking hate the guy who did this to her.

It's hard to focus when I can see Lacey watching me with fearful eyes. I can tell she's fighting the urge to run away from the restless way her eyes keep dancing around my bedroom .

"Flower." I wait until her eyes land back on mine, "You can tell me to stop anytime. We won't do anything you're uncomfortable with, okay?"

She starts blinking rapidly and the sight has my heart breaking.

"Okay."

I lean forward and kiss her, if only to have an excuse not to see her cry. I don't mind when she sheds tears talking about her past, but seeing her eyes well up at the most basic display of kindness just about destroys me.

Lacey kisses me back softly, her hands coming up to stroke my face. I breathe her in, letting the kiss ease the tension from her body before I trail my hand down her arm. Wrapping my fingers around her own, I give her an anchor to hold on to as my other hand brushes her collarbone.

She lets out a gasp and I break away so we can watch my fingers trace the delicate juts of skin before drifting lower. Her back arches when I reach her breasts, silently encouraging me to cop a feel.

The material of her fleece sweater is surprisingly thin as I run my fingers up over the pad of her bra and press down. A groan escapes me when I feel the sharp peak of her nipple, my dick thickening against the zipper of my jeans.

"Are you okay?" Lacey starts to giggle.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

She laughs for real this time, throwing her head back and exposing her throat .

"I think you have harder things to worry about."

I shake my head with a smile, "You're a menace."

"Maybe." Lacey's emerald eyes sparkle at me, and all I can do is stare back, trying in vain to capture this moment.

"Are you doing okay?"

She nods, "It was scary at first but now it's not so bad."

Easy for her to say.

I'm about to ask her something else when she takes my hand and moves it lower. My eyes go wide when she presses it against her pussy.

"I want you to touch me right here." She pushes my hand hard against her core, the material of her leggings doing a poor job of hiding her heat.

A strangled sound escapes me when I feel the dampness leaking through the material, suggesting her panties are either completely soaked or she's not wearing any at all.

I lied when I said I was ready for this.

Lacey bites her lip, her cheeks flushed when she looks at me from beneath her lashes, "Do you think you could do that for me?"

I'm having a hard time thinking between the blood rushing to my dick and the barely covered wet pussy pressing against my hand. My other hand is still intertwined with hers, and the amount of pressure she's using to squeeze my fingers tells me just how nervous she is.

"Yeah." I swallow, "I can do that for you. "

Pressing my middle finger down, I slide it up until I hit the swollen bump of her clit. It's hard to tell through the leggings, but the gasp Lacey lets out helps to confirm I found it. Rubbing it gently, I slowly piece together what my flower likes from the sound of her moans and the flex of her legs.

"More pressure, Skylar."

Bucking against my hand, she uses her own hand to grind my fingers harder into her. Our current position makes the angle too awkward to properly press into her, so I quickly extract my hand.

A frustrated yelp escapes her, "What are you doing?"

Rolling onto my side, I grab her hips and pull her flush against me. My right hand is completely trapped under Lacey's body, but it leaves my left one free to slide between her legs.

I've always been ambidextrous, but I've never considered it to be a life skill until this moment.

" Oh. "

Her legs spread wider as I start the friction back up, pressing and rubbing her clit until Lacey's head falls back against my shoulder. Her ass grinds back against me on every stroke, and it takes every ounce of will power not to grind against her.

"You're doing so good, Flower." I murmur the words into her ear before increasing the pace. Lacey lets out a quiet moan, and my will power breaks in half.

Thrusting forward, my tented jeans meet the backward momentum of her ass, and she freezes against me .

Oh fuck.

I'm about to throw myself off the bed when she grabs my hand, "Do that again."

My hips follow her command before I can even process what she said. I press into her, using my fingers to stroke her clit while I grind against her from behind.

It doesn't take long for my slow pace to speed up, the friction of Lacey's pussy against my hand and her ass against my dick pushing me close to the edge.

"Tell me what you need." Gritting my teeth, I'm trying to fight back the fast approaching release. Lacey's breathing is fast and uneven, her hips bucking against mine.

"Can you say it?"

I groan when her ass cheeks push hard against my dick.

"What am I saying?"

A flush creeps up Lacey's neck and I don't think before I lean forward and lick it. She gasps, pressing against me harder still and grabbing my hand.

"My name. The one you call me."

Looming orgasm momentarily forgotten, a giant smile spreads across my face when I realize what she's asking for.

"Anything for you, Flower."

The nickname sends her over the edge and the frantic bounce of her hips has me coming not far behind. Our heavy breathing fills the room as Lacey falls limp beside me. I pull her close, ignoring the fact I just came in my pants like a pubescent teen.

Lacey rolls over to face me and her flushed cheeks and tired eyes has my heart expanding three times its normal size. I'm waiting for her to make a joke about my stained pants, but instead she gives me a hesitant smile.

"You didn't try and take my clothes off."

Her eyes scan my face, the statement coming off more as a question. The rage from earlier resurfaces as I catch a glimpse of the cracks someone else left behind.

"You didn't ask me to."

Lacey closes her eyes and I quickly press a hand to her lips before she can try and thank me.

"Get some rest, Flower. I'll drive you home when you're ready."