“You like that, don’t you baby?” I ask as I let up on her neck to kiss her jaw. “You like how fucking hard I am for you, don’t you, Olivia?”
She can’t do anything buthumin approval, speechless as her body shakes with chills. I recall the night I took her sweet virginity; just how much pain twisted on her face from my intrusion. She wasn’t ready for the size that tore through her, though I tried my best to take it slow with her that night. Not this time. Thenext time I fuck her it will be the complete opposite. Rough. Savage. Primal.
“Trace, please,” she whines, sounding dangerously close to begging.
She wants my hungered touches and heated words. I chuckle as I dip my head, placing one hand above her hand, palming the cold bark of the tree as I slide my other out from behind her head and rest it on the side of her neck, letting my thumb caress the edge of her jaw.
“I really fucking missed you, Livie.” I force her to look up at me as I lift her jaw with my hand.
There was once a time where being vulnerable with Olivia felt like a fucking privilege, and all this time I’ve kept that from her. But looking into her eyes now, seeing the same look I saw all those years ago, I can’t stop myself from telling her how I feel.
“I’ve done a lot and seen a lot over the years. But the only thing that seems to really fucking do it for me, isyou. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, Olivia. Watching you and chasing you, it’s not enough.”
She gasps, her chest rising and falling quickly. I can see goosebumps form on her exposed skin. Her eyes don’t look so confident anymore. Instead, they seem confused. Shocked. Even her jaw falls open just a bit, enough for me to be able to slide my fucking fingers in them, but she closes her mouth before I can let the intrusive thoughts win.
“I don’t believe you,” she says, causing me to tilt my head at her.
“Which part, Reckless?" I cock an eyebrow at her. "That I’ve tried to fuck you out of my goddamn system for years or that you are the only thing that gets mehard. The only thing that gets my heart racing. The only thing that my body and my soul crave.”
There’s a challenge behind her eyes, one that I crave to swallow up and spit back out. She’s trying to read me, to tell if I’m lying or revealing the truth. But over the years, I’ve mastered the artistry of not unveiling myself unless I want to be seen. Even in broad daylight, even unmasked.
I lean off her, removing myself from the tree, and take a step back. She watches me with curious intention as I reach my arm over my head and pull my hoodie up and over my body.
Olivia’s eyes go wide as she watches me dispose of the fabric, exposing my bare upper half to her. Rain melting into the heat of my skin, the cold greeting me as I stand half naked in the middle of the fucking forest all to prove a point to a girl.
But she’s not just any girl.
She’s my girl.
I watch her as she looks over me. An unveiling of admiration consumes her, visible in the glossy glaze of her eyes, the fleeting twitch in her lips and the way her breath hitches. She likes what she sees and my body is reacting to the heat of her eager eyes. I can tell she wants to move closer; to step up to me, to reach out and put her hands on my skin. I want her to touch me. I yearn to feel her fucking fingers claim me while running over all the lines of my tattoos. I can already feel how euphoric it would be. But if I let her, I won’t be able to make her stop.
“What does this prove?” she asks me quietly, her eyes still wondering over the black and white art etched into my flesh; mostly my arms, my chest, andneck. And of course, my skeleton hands, which I know she’s already seen before.
I take a step closer to her, making sure no part of us touches as I lean down so that my lips barely graze her ear and I whisper, “That my body is a reminder ofyou.”
21
OLIVIA
“If you look into the face of evil, evil’s gonna look right back at you.” – Sister Jude, American Horror Story (2012)
Trace stands before me, shirtless, braving the light layer of rain as he displays his tattoos to me. I always knew he wanted to cover his skin. I used to imagine the day I’d go with him to get his first tattoo—wewould get our first tattoo—but here he stands with ink scattered all over his body and though my eyes recognize the fucking beauty of it all, my heart beats in melancholy.
“What do you mean?” I ask, needing clarification.
“I didn’t have you anymore, but I needed you, Olivia. I needed you, so I inked you into my fucking skin. Not all of them, but some. So maybe now you'll do good to fucking know that I've only ever wanted you. But you had to go and ruin that for us, didn't you?” Trace looks down at me and I can feel the betrayal burning from his eyes. But it's mixed with a deeply rooted desire and as I stare at him, admiring his body, I can’t help but to feel inconsolable knowing that I’ve lost a part of him after all this time.
I want to address his comment, that I ruined that for us. That's what I want to get to the bottom of but my heart races at his words. His claim that some of his tattoos are because of me is causing mayhem to ensue in my head, still not even sure if I believe it.
“You’re lying,” I accuse him, looking over the tattoos I can make out, trying to make any correlation to me.
The only one that I can really understand is the flower he has tattooed over his chest. A lily. He used to call me flower back then; said it’s because whenever he looked into my eyes, I reminded him that beautiful things can survive in chaos. And lilies were my favorites.
His eyes stare at me and it’s almost as if he’s wearing his mask right now. I can’t read him. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. And I grow impatient when he doesn’t respond to me so I step out to him and attempt to put my hand on chest, wanting to touch the ink. But he stops me.
Trace throws his hand up and grabs my wrist, holding it in the space between us. I look at him, meeting his demanding eyes with mine. We both challenge each other, neither of us wanting to back down and I don’t let up, pushing against his hold on me. My skin burns where he grabs me and I try everything I can to keep my eyes on his, but his body is so close to mine and I am eager to explore it. I want to touch and look and…
“Please,” I finally whisper, begging him to let me go.
