Medicine Man (Page 50)

Why won’t he fuck me?

Simon gives me another squeeze to let me know that he isn’t happy with me. “First of all, your cousin is fucking stupid. Do you know how dangerous it is to hook up with random men? You have no idea who they are. Who they’ve been with. If they’re safe or sanitary. That’s how you end up in a ditch in a body bag. Or with an STD.” Like last night, he grabs the back of my neck and brings my face down to his. “And second of all, you’re not giving anything to anyone. All right?”

I breathe through my nose and stare into his eyes. Of course, I know that. And I don’t want to give anything to anyone, anyway.

“Then why don’t you take it?”

With a clenched jaw, he replies, “I told you, Willow. As long as you’re under my watch, you’re going to stay a virgin.”

“But I’m not gonna be under your watch for much longer.”

His grip flexes, as if it hasn’t occurred to him that I’m leaving in seven days. My incarceration is over. I’m free. Or I will be.

But I don’t want to be free.

I don’t want to go Outside. I don’t want my life back.

I want him.

If being with him means living in this bland, white, moldy-smelling hospital, with a no-touching rule, and no-going-outside rule, I’m okay. I can take it. I can sleep in this lumpy twin bed, talk through walls, read the same books over and over. I can get startled awake by the whimpering and nightmares and noises of purging. I can take the humiliation of opening my mouth, showing them if I’ve really swallowed the meds or if I’m faking.

I’ll take all the pills they will give me. Nausea, insomnia, night sweats and chills – I’ll take it all as long as I get to be with him.

“Please, Simon,” I beg, grazing our lips against each other. “If you don’t, someone else will. And it’ll hurt.”

He closes his eyes and breathes deep.

I place soft kisses all over his jaw, his face, his eyelids. “Please. He’ll make it hurt and I don’t want to hurt, Simon.”

“Willow.”

My name on his lips is a growl. A thick, tortured growl and I just want to swallow it up. I want to swallow him up.

“Please don’t say no. Please, Simon. What if he isn’t careful with me? I told you my pussy is so tight. It’s so small.” I’m at his neck right now, drinking the leftover drops of rain, licking his salty skin.

He fists my hair and moves me away from him. “Willow, now’s the time to shut the fuck up, all right?”

Even though I don’t have access to his skin with my lips, I rock against his pelvis, all the while hating the fact that we’re wearing clothes. If we weren’t, I’d show him, I’d make him feel how wet I am. How I’m almost gushing for him.

“It is,” I insist, ignoring his command to shut up. “I promise. I’m not lying. You c-can put your finger inside me and see for yourself. It’s tiny.”

“I’m warning you, Willow.”

In any other situation, his growls would probably scare me. But not right now. Nothing scares me. Least of all him. I don’t have any space in my mind, my heart, my body for fear. It’s all desire and urgency.

I’m all need for him. I’m all me. Not a single drop of my illness.

I slide my fingers inside the open collar and touch his warm, smooth skin. “I know you’ll be careful with it. I know you’ll take care of me. Please.”

I feel his chest vibrating, and he tightens his grip on my hair. “Have you been thinking about it all day? How to manipulate me into fucking you?”

“Yes,” I say truthfully.

My answer makes him widen his stance like he won’t budge no matter how much I push him. “I’m not fucking you. You don’t want to get fucked.”

I undo the top button of his shirt and slide my hand even lower. But he stops me. He puts his palm flat on mine and doesn’t let me go anywhere. I look into his eyes, hard and dark and swimming with lust.

My heart squeezes in my chest. And again, I want to ask him. I want to ask him about the things he’s been hiding. About why he won’t let himself have me.

He’s so magnificent. Why can’t he see that?

 “You make me happy, Simon. No one’s ever made me happy before,” I tell him, ironically with tears in my eyes.

For him. For myself. For all the things he isn’t telling me.

It’s the truth.

Simon Blackwood makes me happy. He makes me warm. He makes me want to fight for him.

His face is pulsing with something and before I can make sense of it all, he slams his mouth over mine and kisses off all my words.

It’s a relief, this kiss. His tongue. His flavor. His smell. The swallows and the sucks of his mouth. I don’t know what his intention is but I’m not letting him go. I wind my arms around him and hook my legs at the small of his back.

I’m not letting him refuse me any longer. I can’t do it. I want him to give in.

Then suddenly, his mouth isn’t on me and I’m moaning with frustration. “Simon…”

“Listen to me, Willow.” He grabs my face and demands my attention. “Listen to me very carefully, it will be just once. Just one time. Just tonight. And it will be because you want it. You. You want me to do this.”

I wanna say something more but he doesn’t let me. “And, Willow, you won’t fight me on this. Because I swear to fucking God I’m this close to losing it and you don’t want to see me lose it. So, you won’t make this difficult. Do I have your word?”

My heart’s racing. It’s racing, racing, racing. It’s flying. My eyes are wide, and I can’t catch my breath. Did he really say what I think he said?

“Did you…” I lick my lips and blurt out my thoughts, “Did you really say what I think you said?”

 He shakes his head once as if exasperated, and mutters to himself, “I’m already regretting this.” To me, “Willow, do I have your word or not? Just this once. Then no more poker or whatever fucked up plan you come up with.”

I’m so relieved and so fucking happy that I don’t have it in me to even take offense at his tone.

I nod. “You have my word.”

Not.

His eyes flash with something. All his desire. Everything unchained and saturated and dark. It makes my pulse skitter and pores sweat. It’s like the air suddenly turned all dirty and humid. Heavy and swollen like I am. Filled to the brim with drops of lust.

Then he moves.

We’ve been standing in the middle of the room all this time and when he comes unglued from his spot, the floorboards creak, and the thunder crackles. He only has to take a couple of steps before he reaches my bed and tries to lower me onto it.

I don’t let him. “We can’t. The bed, it creaks.”

I can literally see him shaking. His teeth clenched so hard that I know he must be hurting. “Tell me this is a joke.”

“No.” I shake my head. “No joke.”

He releases a short laugh. Though it lacks humor. “Where do you propose we do this?”

I swirl my finger in his damp hair. “Against the wall.”

His frown is the biggest one yet. “You want me to take your virginity against the wall.”

“Yes.” I point to the wall I want. “That one. It’s by the door so it isn’t in the direct line of sight from the little window on my door.”