Page 84 of Lie with Me
CJ smiles warmly, cupping my cheeks in his hands. “No. You are beautiful, scars and all. And I didn’t fall in love with you because of the way you look. I fell in love with you because you are the fiercest woman I have ever met. Your confidence turns me on more than your body. I’ve told you. I’m yours until you send me away.”
“I will never send you away,” I cry, a complete fucking mess, pressing my face into his palm. “You’re the only one Iwant.”
“Then you never have to worry. I want you just as much now as I ever have.We’rewhat’s important. I’m going to help you get through this.We’regoing to get through it, okay?”
I nod firmly, trying to pull myself together. It astounds me how just CJ’s words can calm my hyper spirit and quiet my raging thoughts.
“Stay here. I have something for you.” He kisses me softly on the lips before he leaves the bathroom.
When he returns, he motions with his finger for me to turn around. With curiosity, I do. Once I see our reflection, I watch as CJ lifts his hands over my head and drops a necklace in front of my face.Mynecklace. He clasps the luxe gold chain around my neck as I fiddle with the small diamond music note.
“There.” He kisses my collar. “Back in its rightful place. Right next to your heart.”
I smile, feeling fortunate for the first time in a long time.
I realize as I stare at the tattered couple in the mirror that we have a very long road ahead of us. But at least I know we’ll be walking it together. Side by side, hand in hand.
CJ’s right—in the end,we’retogether andwe’rethe only thing that really matters.
Six months later
I BEND TARA OVER OURbrand new vanity, in our brand new master bathroom, in our brand new brownstone. Like, literally, signed the papers for this morning.
As soon as they handed us the keys, we headed straight over to christen the place.
We barely got through the door with our clothes on before we dropped in the middle of the living room floor. We’ve fucked all over the house—kitchen, stairs, bedroom—finally making it to the bathroom. Our intention was to wash off, but we somehow deviated.
I push Tara’s long platinum hair off to the side and rub my hands up and down her back. This day has been a long time coming. We’re finally in a good place, a healing place. I press my fingertips into the music notes tattooed on her skin. Her entire back is covered with a bright pink piece of sheet music. The same song that is tattooed on her leg.“Stars”by Grace Potter. She listened to that song compulsively for months as she recovered. In the middle of the sheet music is a huge graphic treble clef. The design is pretty sick and took close to a month to finish, but when it was completed, I could see the difference in Tara immediately. She hated her scars, and it showed. She was self-conscious and angry; many times internalizing what she truly felt until it bubbled over and surfaced in a panic attack.Today, she’s nearly the same woman I fell in love with. Fiery, vivacious, and outgoing. A sexual powerhouse.
“Look at me.” I reach around and clasp her throat. Tara opens her lust-filled eyes. “I want you to watch yourself come.” I rub my cock between her soaked folds. They’re steaming hot and swollen from overuse.
She pants in the mirror, her breath fogging the glass.
“Whose opinion only matters?” I ask as I tease her, poking just the head of my erection against her pussy.
“Yours,” she moans.
“And what do I say?”
“I’m beautiful,” she answers without hesitation. It took me a long time to convince her of that. That she was, is, and will always be beautiful, on the inside and out.
“Look at yourself and say it,” I order her. She shifts her eyes, her cheeks turning pink as she does as she’s told.
“I’m beautiful,” she says as I thrust into her, her voice rising two octaves.
“Say it again.”
With her eyes trained on herself, she says it again. “I’m beautiful!” I slam into her once more. “Oh!” She throws her head back and claws at the countertop. She’s so wet and needy, and I’m so hard and on edge.
“Don’t close your eyes.” I cup one breast and her pussy at the same time, lightly running my middle finger over her clit and rolling her nipple between two fingers. Both pieces of flesh harden under my touch, becoming two centralized erogenous pleasure points. Tara twitches as I watch her in the mirror. Her pink cheeks now a bright red. I pump slowly in and out of her, making sure her entire body lights up in blissful agony. I want to hear her moan. I want her to beg. I want to know just how fucking much she needs me, and she doesn’t disappoint. My sexually intrepid shortcake never does.
I wind her up so tightly, stimulating every part of her I can; she becomes a different person. A wild, horny, hard-up disarray completely dependent on me.
“Don’t close your eyes,” I groan, teetering on a needle-sharp point as I watch her eyelids flutter, fighting to stay open. “Look at me.” I punch into her pussy while still torturing both her clit and nipple. “Look. At. Me.”
We’re both heaving and quivering, like two starving untamed beasts.
“Oh fuck, you’re going to make me come,” she whines, pushing back onto my cock, her muscles spasming.
