Tasting, Finding, Keeping: The Story of Never by C.M. Stunich Page A

have no fucking clue what he's talking about. If anyone's playing games, it's him. “This is what you want, isn't it?” I don't know what to say with his mouth hovering over my lips. His hand squeezing my wrists so hard it's painful. His fingers dipping down, down, down, lower. No? Is that what I'm supposed to say? Yes? Yes? No?
    Ty brushes my clit with his thumb but just barely, just enough that I can feel it, that I arch my hips forward for more, but not enough that I get any relief out of it. Instead, I sag against the wall, let him use all of the strength in that gently sweeping bicep to hold me there. He's got sweat on the tip of his nose, across his forehead, and down the sides of his neck. I wish I could take his shirt off, explore that hard plane of flesh, finally get a chance to explore a man's body like I never have before.
    But I know Ty's type; I knew it the first moment I laid eyes on him.
    Ty isn't the guy that takes you to bed and touches your clit with gentle fingers, that whispers sweet nothings in your ear, that lubes up his cock before he slides into you.
    Rick was one of those guys maybe but not Ty. I've known it all along anyway.
    “Fuck you,” I say, but the words are half spit because I can't enunciate properly, not with this need bubbling up so hot and strong inside of me. There's a misunderstanding here, a big one, and if we don't clear it up, we'll just be making the same mistake, over and over and over again.
    Ty looks me right in the face with those dark eyes, smirks at me with those sexy lips, and runs his tongue across them as if he knows how to push every button on my body with a simple look. He unbuttons his pants and puts a hand under my ass. With considerable strength, Ty lifts me up and thrusts into me at the same time.
    There's this vicious blending of bodies and strong wills and stubborn characters and for a split second, there's no you and no me , just us. It fades away as quickly as it came and soon we're back to just being human; two grunting, sweating, moaning souls grinding together for whatever reason is important today , filling whatever need has to be filled now. I don't think for awhile, and if Ty tells you that he does, he's lying. He keeps his hand on my wrists, keeps me pinned there while he slides into me with long, hard strokes, tries to bury whatever problems he has in me while I let him fill the empty hole inside of myself.
    That's not to say that the sex isn't good. Oh god, it's good. It's explosive and wild and everything I've always craved. Ty is hot and sexy and perfect, but suddenly, I get this image in my head of him taking money from me. I think about handing him a wad of cash and getting this very same thing, feeling his hand squeezing the flesh on my ass, the movement of his cock inside of me.
    “Stop it,” I say as I squeeze my eyes shut and try to push the thought from my head. Ty drops my hands suddenly, pulls away from me as my feet the hit the floor. I crumple to the ground with my hands over my head. Without knowing why, I'm sobbing. For me, for Ty, I'm not sure. When he tries to take a step towards me, I scream at him. “Get out!” I shout as I fly to my feet. I hit Ty in the chest with a fist. “Get out! Get out! Get out!” He fixes his pants, gives me one last terrified look and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

15
    There's a zombie cupcake sitting on my bedside table. It has a purple wrapper and white frosting with a green face piped onto the middle of it, tongue lolling out to the side, red gel icing dripping like blood from its empty eye socket.
    “What the hell is this?” I ask Lacey who's sitting up in bed, working her comb through her pretty, blonde hair. She isn't very careful about it and I cringe as I hear strands snapping with each stroke. With one last yank, she sets the blue brush down on the bed next to her and curls her hands over her knees.
    “That's for you,” she says, grinning and flashing me the skinny gap