Page 85 of Darkest Obsession

After that, he climbs between my legs again and we make love three more times until I can’t anymore. We planned for this, so I’m on birth control and when he’s ready to finish, I wrap my legs around his hips so he can finish inside me. His dick feels amazing and I don’t want to let him go when we’re done. He kisses me until my lips are sore and then he rolls off me with a big smile on his face and there’s a big smile on mine too.

I love him so much.

His fingers interlace with mine and he turns to look at me with those gorgeous blue eyes.

“I want to tell people,” he whispers.

“We can’t. What will happen next semester?”

“Okay,” he whispers, squeezing my hand. “I had to try again.”

“You know I can’t stay tonight, right?”

“Yeah. But I don’t want you going back alone.”

I bite my lower lip. I don’t want to risk anyone seeing us together. We’ve already been taking bigger and bigger risks. Eventually someone will knock on my door and I won’t be there and they’ll find out exactly where I’ve been.

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I never said you did. I just care.”

He touches my face.

“Am I fucked in the head for loving you, Syl?”

“Yes. Probably,” I whisper. “But I don’t care. I’ve never been in love before. I didn’t think it would happen for me.”

He chuckles, but I’m not joking. I’ve never exactly been lucky with guys. I never told mom and dad, but kids at school bullied me a lot for my skin tone. I wanted to be lighter for most of my childhood and I hid my shameful self-hating thoughts from my Haitian parents who always taught me to be proud of everything about where I came from. They would have been humiliated to have a daughter who didn’t exude black pride 24/7.

I just wanted people to like me the way they liked the mixed girls, the way they liked Denise and Teresa, who were at least a few shades lighter than me.

I probably would have still hated myself if I’d never met Amina. She was the first time I saw myself in another person and thought she was stunning — like a model. I slowly started to love myself, but those old insecurities still sting. I feel stupid for ever feeling that way, like I’m betraying my whole bloodline.

“It’s not funny,” I tell him.

“I never thought this would happen for me either,” he says. “How can you forgive my past, Sylvia?”

“You’re not a bad person. You just made mistakes.”

“Yeah. Come here.”

He pulls my head onto his chest and I love feeling his bulging muscles beneath it. He has a nice chest, with gorgeous tattoos. I want to touch all of them and ask him about all the ink on his skin. But tonight, I can appreciate the quiet movement of his chest for a few more minutes before I have to leave.

The time sneaks up on me faster than I want. I have to go. I roll off his chest, waking him up in my attempt to sneak out.

“Running off?”

“Yeah.”

“Please let me drive you back.”

“I can drive myself. I swear, I’ll be fine.”

He never wants to let me go.

“Okay. I’ll miss you,” he murmurs in that perfect accent.

My stomach tightens. I’ll miss him too. I act all cool about it, but I hate that we have to keep this a secret. Still, that’s where my common sense kicks in. If people find out about us… that could ruin everything.