Page 84 of Beautiful Monster

“Harder, Alex.”

Fuck, this girl will be the death of me.

It takes the air out of my lungs to watch her unabashedly move against me, hungry for her own pleasure, and I want to give it to her. I want her to have it all.

Grabbing her narrow hips, I meet her thrusts, deepening each one until she’s so out of breath she can’t even form a sound.

When I come in her, I gather her body up against me again. I want to feel her orgasm, the tension in her muscles, the heavy beat of her heart, the strangled sound of her cries. I need to know it’s enough for her, that I’ve done right by her, and I try to memorize it all. I have her orgasm in the palm of my hand, and still, I’m left feeling like it’s not enough.

When she crawls into bed with me that night after spending another four hours on the ladder, I welcome her warmth against my body.

“Guess what,” she whispers, kissing my chest.

“What?” I smile.

“I’m done.” Her smile is bright from ear to ear.

“What?” I ask, setting my phone aside to curl a lock of hair behind her ear.

“I’m fucking done!” She practically squeals with excitement, so I gather her up in my arms, kissing the top of her head.

“Oh my god, Sunny. I’m so proud of you,” I whisper. When she pulls away, her eyes fall on mine, and I do my very best to hide the lurking worry hiding in my mind. My smile is forced, and she senses it right away.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, resting her chin on my chest.

“Nothing, rain cloud. I’m happy for you.”

“Well, I still have to finish a few outlines and touch-ups here and there.” She says it like it’s supposed to make me feel better, as if her being done with the mural would be bad news for me. Does she think I’m worried she’ll leave when she’s done?

“Sounds good.” My fingers trace her neck to her shoulders where a smudge of yellow paint has dried. Lying on my chest, she trails her fingers down my chest in the same way I trail them down her spine. It’s quiet, comfortable, and I want to hold on to this moment, pushing the doubts in my head away.

I can talk her into the internship. And if she doesn’t want to do that, she’ll get plenty of jobs after we showcase her work here. Then, an idea pops into my head.

“We should have a party,” I whisper. “Like a showcase for your mural.”

“Who would come to that?” she asks, sounding skeptical.

“Lots of people. People with influence, followers, designers. It could be a huge breakthrough for you, Sunny. If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah…” she mumbles. “Or we could just stay in bed by ourselves.” I know she’s being playful, but her answer doesn’t make me feel any better.

Just when I’m about to press her about it some more, she touches a tender spot on my side, just above my hip. “What’s this?” she asks, fingering the raised scar about the size of her index finger.

“Oh, that’s from a very careless trip to Mexico last year,” I tell her, looking down at the warped skin that runs parallel to the elastic on my boxers.

“It looks like a mountain range,” she says with a laugh. “Can I draw on it?”

I answer with a chuckle. “Have at it.”

Jumping off my chest, she scurries to her bag on the floor and comes back with a felt-tip pen, crawling back on my body and facing the scar. The pen is cool on my skin and makes me jump a little as she stretches a long line along the ridge.

“So, tell me the story,” she says, biting her lip while she concentrates.

“I wish I could say it was from bungee jumping or Jet Skis, but the reality is that I drank too much in Cancun. Got myself in a little trouble with a friend, and he threw me against a table. A glass-top table. Sliced through my side like a knife through butter.”

“Ouch.”

The sharp movements of her pen make me wince. I wish that story was better, and I don’t have the heart to tell her the rest of it. How I was so drunk, I didn’t even know I’d been cut. Or how Tyson had been so high, he didn’t know his own strength. Or how my best friend and business partner left me for dead because I fucked his wife in the hot tub the day before. How I spent two days alone in the hospital in Cancun and had to catch a flight home alone on my birthday, feeling like the world’s biggest asshole.