“It’s okay, I'm not going to hurt you.” He says, cupping my face with his hands, forcing me to look at him.
“What happened? I could feel you go completely still. It’s like you drifted off somewhere. To a different place, and I could just tell you weren’t present.”
Tears stung the back of my eyes as I blinked rapidly, whisking them away. I tried to focus on Nick and the words he was saying to help me forget. I desperately clung to anything to help me forgetthe disgusting thoughts that invaded my mind like thieves in the night over and over again. I started to sit up, and Nick backed away, sitting back in the driver's seat. All of a sudden I felt disgusting, exposed and cold. I hugged my waist with my arms, trying to cover myself.
“I-I’m sorry. I was. I just-”
“Shhh,” he covered his finger over my lips. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, not right now. It’s okay.” He places the most gentle kiss on my lips. “Let’s go home.”
“What? No,” I say, crossing my arms, turning to face him. He ignores my plea and starts to reach for the key ignition.
“No, please, Nick. Don’t.” I reach for his forearm. I’m fine, I just spaced out, that's all.”
Grabbing my hands in his, he says, “Melanie, I want to please you, but I don’t want to do that if you're not going to be present. I need you to be present. You drifted with all those other guys, and when I’m inside you, I want you to feel me. I’m fucking selfish and I don’t want anyone else inside you when I am, and that goes for your mind too, not just your body..”
I tear my gaze away from his but he places a hand under my chin and turns my head in his direction.
“I’m not judging you, I get it. I understand all about triggers. So if this is too much right now, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. We can wait.” He removed his hands and dug into his pockets for his keys, once more.
What was this man doing to me? He was breaking down every wall I ever built and tearing it down with an ax, piece by piece. He was everything I ever wanted a man to be when it came to dealing with my demons and past. And the more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to believe this was a real marriage. I never wanted him to leave. I wanted to keep him and believe that he could be mine forever
“I’m ready,” I say, planting my hand over his on the steering wheel, grounding myself in the heat of his skin like it’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
“Melanie, as much as I want you to cum on my face, I think we should g?—”
“No.” I cut him off, sharp and desperate, shaking my head hard. “No.”
The panic surged so fast it nearly choked me. My voice broke before I could stop it.
“If you stop now, I swear to God, Nick, I’ll get out of this car and walk to the nearest liquor store or gas station and drink myself into a stupor, then feel like a complete failure the next morning. I don’t want to feel like shit anymore. I don’t want to feel like—” I drag my hands down my torso, bitter and ashamed, “like this fucked up individual who can’t even have sex in a car. I’m tired of lying to myself and others. I’m just fucking tired.” The last words slip out in a breath so heavy it feels like it’s crushing my chest.
His eyes lock on mine—still, unreadable, flickering with everything he’s holding back. The silence between us goes electric.
“I just want to feel good, please. Make me feel good, Nick, you’re the only one who can.”
That’s when something shifts. His stare deepens, sharpens—like something inside him snaps loose. His eyes go dark, molten. Hungry. I feel it in my skin before he even moves—a silent, possessive heat that makes my breath hitch.
But he doesn’t move.
He just watches me, jaw clenched, and I can see the war raging behind his calm. That look on his face burns through me. Every second he stays silent feels like it’s going to tear me in half.
“Fine,” I mutter, fumbling for my seatbelt, the sting of rejection already curling in my gut. “But don’t expect m?—”
“Get out of the car.”
38
NICK
“Get out of the car,” I said before she finished her sentence.
Confusion morphs on her face as she holds the seat belt in one hand.
“Did I stutter? I said, "Get out.”
Mealnie didn’t budge, so I decided to take matters into my own hands as I swung my car door open. Eying her through my windshield, she’s still seated, and as I round the hood of my car, I opened her passenger side door
“Nick, what are you doing?”
