Home > #Nerd (Hashtag #1)(52)

#Nerd (Hashtag #1)(52)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“Come here,” I said, my voice so deep and thick I didn’t even recognize it.

When her face cleared the comforter, I could see the need in her eyes as well. I flung a hand out to the dresser and grabbed a condom.

“Wanna help?” I asked.

Her eyes went to the packet and she nodded. She was still sitting on her knees between my thighs as I ripped it open and smoothed it over my head. I took her hand and guided it down as we both rolled the latex over my length.

I hooked my hands beneath her arms and lifted her so she was straddling my waist. I could feel the slick heat of her core and I knew she was already ready for me.

“I’ve never…” Her voice fell away when my cock rocked against her center.

“I know,” I whispered. “Trust me.”

She nodded and lifted a little as I positioned myself at her entrance. I palmed her tiny waist and slowly guided her down, inch by inch.

“Ohh,” she purred.

Smug satisfaction burst in my chest when I caught the blissful look on her face. She started rocking without any kind of instruction. Her hips rolled and moved in perfect cadence with mine. Her body above me was on full display, and I ran my hands over her curves and kneaded her breasts as she rode me.

“Romeo,” she whispered, her hair falling over her shoulders and her lips swollen from my kisses.

I jerked up into a sitting position and wrapped my arms around her waist. Her legs automatically went around me, and the angle of my cock inside her changed and deepened.

Her breasts pressed against my chest and her forehead fell against my shoulder. Her fingernails cut into my back as we rocked together. I held her as tight as I could. I wanted as close to her as possible.

Tension built up inside me until my movements almost became desperate.

She moaned and made a sound, rubbing against me. I rolled, pinning her beneath me, and thrust deep. She splintered apart in that second, her cry filling the room. I followed right behind her as I spilled my seed.

Once I could think again, my arms were shaking with the effort to not crush her, so I rolled off and onto my back. “Fuck, Rimmel.”

She was silent a moment, and I turned my head.

She was chewing on her bottom lip. “Did I do something wrong?”

A groan ripped out of me, and I rolled onto my side and tossed my arm across her waist. “Not one damn thing. I just hope this wasn’t too much for your first time.”

The air around us changed. Something intruded on our moment. Something dark. Something I didn’t like.

“Rimmel?”

She looked away. “This wasn’t my first time.”

I felt like I was kicked in the gut, and tightness gripped my chest. I pushed it away because of the regret I heard in her voice. Maybe she thought I wouldn’t want her as much if I knew someone else had her first.

It drove me insane to think of anyone else touching her, but I wasn’t about to throw stones. It would be the pot calling the kettle black.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I said softly, pulling her against me. I kissed the top of her head without even thinking about it. “I’m not upset.”

She buried her face in my chest and that feeling in the air pressed in on us. It seemed a little odd that this wasn’t her first time. I had her pegged for a virgin almost since the moment we met. She was so damn shy and innocent at times. She hid herself in way too large clothes, she barely ever looked at people, and animals were her preferred company.

When I slid into her body, she was tight, so tight and small I didn’t think twice about her being inexperienced. And when I pulled her on top of me, she said she’d never…

A sick feeling twisted me up inside.

My hand on her hip fisted and my breathing became a little labored.

She must have felt the sickness and anger radiating from my pores, because she looked up. I reached over and snagged her glasses off the side of the mattress and gently slid them onto her face. I wanted her to see me clearly. I wanted to see her clearly.

“Rimmel.” I began, hating the thoughts in my head, the suspicions that would keep me up at night.

She tried to duck back into the safety of my arms, but I pulled back, unwilling to let her have what she wanted until I knew.

I caught her face in my palms and forced her to look at me. I stared into her eyes, which had turned wary and a little ashamed. “Did someone…?” I began forcing the words past the lump in my throat. “Did someone hurt you?”

Her lashes swept across her cheeks when she closed her eyes.

I made a sound and shook her slightly, and her eyes opened once more. “Did someone rape you?” I burst out, harsh and low.

She stiffened and hers eyes widened. “No!”

My entire body went weak. I sagged against the pillows and blew out a breath. “Fucking shit, Rimmel. I was already planning that scumbag’s murder.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her hand on my chest. I picked it up and kissed her fingers. She glanced away and then back. “I wasn’t forced into anything I didn’t want to do. But I was taken advantage of, and it hurt me.”

I brushed the hair out of her face and swiped the pad of my thumb along her bottom lip. “Tell me.”

“It was a long time ago.” She hedged.

“Yet I still see the shadows in your eyes right now,” I murmured.

She scooted up and laid her head on my chest. It scared me how good it felt to have her against me like this. How complete I felt. I tucked my arms around her and rested my chin on top of her head.

“I told you my mom died when I was eleven,” she said.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“She drowned.” Her voice was quiet. “We had a pool. Everyone in Florida has a pool, it seems. One day when I was at school, she must have been in the backyard doing something and she somehow fell, hit her head, and fell into the pool. No one was home to help her.”

And that explained why she skirted around the pool in the yard and looked at it with clear fear and hate.

“When I got off the bus, she wasn’t waiting. So I walked home by myself. I searched through the house for her. I was yelling her name and she didn’t answer. I thought she was playing some sort of game with me.”

I felt her words like a knife to the heart. I pictured her at eleven, smaller than she was even now, with all that dark hair and wide eyes, calling out for her mother.

“I went out in the backyard…” She paused. “She was floating in the pool. The water had turned pink because of all the blood.”

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