Catch Me Twice Page 3

  “Come, Kristi.”

  I try, but the moment is gone. I can’t focus on anything other than when that door is going to open. A grimace contorts Jake’s face. He clenches his jaw. His whole body pulls tight. Warmth fills my channel. It’s comforting until the burn sets in, which tells me he tore me inside. He shoves twice more before he stills. His reprieve only lasts a second. In the next, he pulls out and drags my skirt over my hips to cover my naked lower body. A gush of slick runs between my legs. Perversely, I mourn the loss. Squeezing my thighs together, I try to stop the spillage, but there’s too much. It dribbles down my inner thighs as Jake adjusts my bra and top. I’m a quivering mess, needier than before we’ve started, but unable to move as he pulls up his jeans and shoves his softening cock back into his briefs. He’s still zipping up his jeans when Snake and one of the cleaners exit, carrying trash bags.

  They’re deep in conversation, not noticing us until they reach the trashcans, and then Snake stops in his tracks. “Kristi, is that you?”

  “Fuck,” Jake mumbles under his breath, still sheltering me with his body.

  “You all right?” Snake asks.

  “Uh, yes.” I clear my throat, forcing myself to stand on my wobbly legs. “Perfect.”

  Snake takes a step toward us. “You sure?”

  “She said she’s fine,” Jake snaps. He puts an arm around me and pulls me to his side. “We’re leaving.”

  “You take her straight home now, you hear?” Snake says.

  Jake leads me from the alley into the main street. At this hour, it’s thankfully deserted. I don’t need a mirror to know in what state I am. Anyone who looks at me will know what we’ve done. Despite his wealthy father, Jake doesn’t have a car. Hendrik Basson keeps a tight fist on his money when it comes to luxuries. He told Nancy’s mom he doesn’t mind paying for Jake’s education, but he believes Jake has to earn everything else by himself. Jake delivered newspapers from eighth grade to buy himself a bicycle.

  “You all right?” Jake asks.

  “Yes.”

  It’s a half-truth. My body feels battered, and the ache between my legs won’t stop. I’m sticky and sore, but need still throbs in my core despite the fact that Snake’s untimely appearance killed our lust-filled craze.

  The temperature must’ve dropped more. I shiver against Jake’s side, but it’s more from the aftereffect of the sex than the cold. Rubbing my arm, he pulls me closer. We don’t talk on the long walk back to the trailer park. Jake has gone from bossy and hot to tense and withdrawn, and I’m too strung out to make sense of the warring emotions in my chest. I’m both proud that I did it, with Jake no less, and sad knowing nothing can come of tonight. It doesn’t help that I still feel out of sorts from the alcoholic buzz in my veins.

  In front of our trailer, he turns me to face him. “Want me to come inside?”

  With my mom there? “I’m good.”

  “Okay.” He looks at me for a long moment. “It was great.”

  I’m not sure I agree. It started out good, but it went kind of wrong in the end with Snake and his colleague barging in on us.

  His eyes widen slightly. “You’re not regretting it, are you?”

  “Of course not.” Never. I go on tiptoes to kiss his lips. “Thank you.”

  He hovers, seeming uncertain, which is a new look on Jake Basson.

  “Do you want to come in? It’s not that I don’t want to invite you, but it’s late and, well…” I have an open relationship with my mom, but this will be too awkward.

  He glances over my shoulder at the trailer. “I understand.”

  There are many things I want to ask, but all of them will scare Jake away. Will I see him again? Will he remember me when he leaves for Dubai? Will he visit me when he comes home for the holidays? Instead of expressing what’s on my mind, I give him the easy way out by getting the key from its hiding place in the bird feeder.

  He walks to the end of the pathway that marks our small patch of garden but waits until I’ve closed the door behind me before taking off.

  Inside, I lean against the door. I don’t know if it’s the physical exertion or if all first times are like this, but my body starts shaking in earnest. My mother snores softly on her single bed. Tiptoeing to my side of the trailer, I grab my toilet bag and pajamas and head for the ablution building. Under the stark glare of the tungsten light, I strip naked in front of the mirror. My body looks like a battlefield. Bruises bloom on my wrists. I’m bleeding in half-moon marks where Jake’s nails cut my skin. There’s a hickey on my shoulder, and my nipples are an angry red. My back is scraped from the bricks. Blood mixed with semen have dried on my thighs. I better not let my mom see the marks I bear from our sexual adventure. It looks as if I’ve been assaulted. It will give anyone the wrong impression.

  For a fleeting moment, I consider touching my clit to make myself come and finish what Jake and I started, but it feels wrong. I don’t want to spoil what we shared by coming alone. Adjusting the water in the shower stall, I quickly rinse my body and hair, wincing at the burn not only on the surface but also much deeper. For an inexplicable reason, my tears start to flow. Why am I so damn emotional? From where comes this sudden need for Jake to hold me?

  After toweling myself dry, I pull on my pajamas and a sweatshirt. I can’t use a hairdryer for fear of waking my mom, so I sneak back to the trailer and slip into my bed with wet hair. Turning on my side, I clutch my pillow against my chest. It’s easy to relive the moment in the alley. Jake’s smell, aftershave mixed with cotton and soap, is burned into my memory. The way in which he filled me makes my folds throb and swell. For the time it lasted, Jake was mine. He was my first, and no one can ever take that away from me. With that secret held close to my heart, I drift into a content, dreamless sleep.

  When I wake up, my mother’s bed is made. The blinds are open and sunlight filters through the window. I stretch like a lazy cat. I don’t have to be up early for school. It’s finished. I’m free. I feel like a kid on the first morning of a holiday. The feeling is tied with a pretty bow, the beautiful secret I carry in my heart. I jackknife into a sitting position as a disconcerting thought hits me. What if Jake tells everyone? What if I’m nothing but a notch on his list of alley fucks? Oh, my gosh. I hope he hasn’t fucked many girls like that. I’m sure he’s done it at least a couple of times before. He was too sure of what he was doing to have been a virgin.

  The door opens on my smiling mom. “You’re awake. Finally. How was last night?”

  Pulling the long sleeves of my sweater over my wrists, I smile. “Great.”

  “No headache?”

  “I only had a beer and vodka.”

  “Vodka?” She puts her toilet bag on the counter and fluffs her hair in the mirror. “You didn’t have enough money for vodka.”

  “Jake was buying.”

  She turns to face me. “Jake?”

  “It’s doesn’t mean anything.”

  “That boy is trouble.”

  “It was just a drink, Mom.”

  “All right,” she says slowly. “There’s muffins for breakfast.” She straightens her uniform and grabs her bag. On the way to the door, she kisses my forehead. “See you later.”

  When she’s gone, I dress and go to the ablution building for my grooming before having breakfast and doing my morning chores. I clean the trailer and take minced meat from the freezer compartment of our mini-fridge for dinner.

  After a quick sandwich for lunch, my duties are done, and I’m surprisingly bored. The race toward to end of the school year kept me so occupied, I never thought about what I was going to do with myself once school was out forever. I call Nancy, but her phone goes straight to voicemail. She’s probably sleeping off last night. I leave a message, telling her I’ll be at the lake.

  Taking my bicycle, I peddle down the dirt road to the small lake at the foot of the hill, not far from the brick factory. I feel my bruises in the saddle. Every time I hit a hole in the road, I wince. The lake is deser
ted when I get there, a nice treat. Usually, the place is packed on holidays or weekends with families having picnics and fishing. Finding a spot in the shade, I sit down on the shore and dangle my legs over the mud wall. Not far away, a sparrow is building its nest in the branches of a willow tree overhanging the water. As kids, we used to hunt the ground under the trees for their speckled eggshells that dropped from the nests when their chicks hatched. The memory puts a smile on my face. My childhood days were carefree and happy. Those days are over. Legally, I’m an adult. I have to start earning a living and leave the nest. My thoughts turn to the future and the university applications I’m yet to complete when a branch snaps behind me with an ominous crack.

  Chapter 3

  Turning quickly, I survey the surroundings. I jerk when Jake appears from a dense cluster of trees. My heart starts thrumming as my head fills with vivid images of last night. I don’t want to be the dork who blushes, but I can already feel the heat seeping into my cheeks.

  “Hi,” he says when he reaches me, searching my face.

  I can’t look away from those russet-brown eyes. They’re brilliant in their torment, shining as if they’re illuminated from the inside. “Hi.”

  He motions at the spot next to me. “Can I?”

  I shrug. “The lake doesn’t belong to me.”

  He sits down with one leg bent and his elbow resting on his knee. He’s wearing his ripped jeans and a white T-shirt that stretches over his lean muscles. The fabric hints at the flat disks of his nipples and the contours of his abs. I look toward the lake before he notices I’m staring again. A fish breaks the surface to catch an insect, causing ripples to circle out over the brown water. It’s soothingly familiar and so very unfamiliar with Jake’s overbearing presence. I’m back on that Tower ride, waiting for the chair to drop and my stomach to climb up in my throat.

  Hugging my knees, I keep my gaze trained on the distance. “We both had the same idea, huh?”

  His head turns toward me. “What idea?”

  “To come here.”

  “Actually, I came here looking for you. Nancy said you’d be here.”

  “Oh?”

  Afraid of what I’d find, I don’t want to look into his eyes, but I can’t help their pull. When our gazes connect, I almost cower under the intensity in his. He’s a mixture of sexual virility and wildness, way out of my league. Underneath the animalistic prowess flow darkness and hunger, but the most powerful undercurrent is pain. It’s also the most confusing. Jake Basson has no reason to be pained. He’s the most privileged kid in town. The suffering is there though, just like the danger, and the trouble my mom warned me about.

  He pins me with his signature broody stare. “I came to see if you’re all right.”

  The smile I force stretches my lips. The effort hurts my face. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  His tone turns stern, angry, almost. “You didn’t tell me it was your first time.”

  Oh, goddess of shame. From the state my body was in, I can only imagine how he knows.

  Instead of sounding light like I intend, my voice comes out like a squeal. “It’s no big deal.”

  “I disagree.”

  I mold my embarrassment into anger, using it like a shield to protect my feelings. “Do you have a problem with virgins?”

  Eyes widening slightly, he continues to stare at me. When he finally speaks, his words are measured. “I would’ve done it differently.”

  “Differently how?”

  The single word he utters is soft, infused with its meaning. “Gently.”

  Just like that, the anger that masks my shame dissolves. “I was the one who asked for it rough, remember?”

  “Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have kept it from me.”

  “You didn’t ask.”

  “I thought—” He bites his lip.

  “You thought what?”

  The thick layers of his dark hair ripple into a new messy pattern as he moves his head in denial. “Nothing.”

  Nothing, the most loaded answer in the universe. I’m not letting him get away with it. “You thought what, Jake?” When he still denies me an answer, I grab his arm and give a shake. “You thought what?”

  He scans my face. “That you had experience.”

  “What gave you that idea?” Oh. “I suppose I acted rather boldly.”

  He smirks. “It wasn’t that, although it’s damn hot when you’re so honest about what you want.”

  My cheeks heat again. “What, then?”

  “Let it go, Kristi.”

  There’s only one possibility left. “Who?”

  “No one.”

  “Someone lied about fucking me. If you know, I can only assume the whole school knows, or think they know. I deserve to know who the asshole is.”

  He sighs. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “That’s for me to decide. Spill the beans, or are you on his side? What is this? Some kind of fellow fraternity where you guys protect each other so you can pretend your fuck-me-another-notch fantasies are true?”

  “Calm down. I’m not on his side. On the contrary, I’m seriously considering giving him a shiner.”

  I make to get up. “Forget it. I don’t care, anyway.”

  He pushes on my shoulder, forcing me to stay. “You care, or you wouldn’t be upset.”

  “Just tell me or let me go home.”

  “Fucking hell, Kristi.” Interlacing his fingers, he drags his hands over his head. “Denis said he popped your cherry.”

  “You believed him?” I exclaim.

  “How was I supposed to know? The guy’s had a crush on you like forever.”

  Unlike Jake, who only noticed me for the first time last night. I shrivel just a little under his touch. The heat of his palm on my shoulder stirs the secret memories I’ve locked in my heart. I don’t want to let them out. It would hurt so much more if I nurture my one-sided love.

  Shaking off his hand, I say, “If it makes you feel better, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “Are you regretting it?” I ask with my heart in my throat.

  His eyes soften. “I only regret that I didn’t get you off. I’ll never regret that it happened.”

  The knot in my throat eases up a little. “Good.”

  “I’m going to do a number on Denis. Want to kick him in the balls? I can hold him down for you.”

  “No,” I say quickly. “I don’t want you to do anything to Denis.”

  “Know what will make me feel even better? Breaking a few of his ribs.”

  The scary part is Jake isn’t joking. He means every word. I can see it in the firm set of his unsmiling lips.

  “It’s for me to decide how I’m going to handle it.”

  “Fair enough. If you change your mind, I’m at your disposal.”

  “I can fight my own fights.”

  “I don’t doubt that. I still remember how Werner howled when you kicked him on the shin.”

  “That was in second grade, and he stole my apple.”

  He grins. “Yeah, well, it kind of left a mark.”

  Wait. He remembers that? Before I can comment, he lifts my wrist and pulls back the sleeve. The marks he left have matured. The fingerprint bruises are a deep purple, and the half-moon cuts puffy and weepy red.

  “Fuck,” he says under his breath.

  I pull away self-consciously. “It looks worse than it feels.”

  “Kristi, I—”

  “Don’t say you’re sorry.” I beseech him with my eyes. “Please, Jake.”

  “That’s the really fucking frightening thing. I’m not.”

  He looks at me for a long moment. We’re both trapped in the truth, unable to move away from the blinding headlights speeding at us. He’s right. It’s dead frightening, but it’s also liberating. It’s beautiful in its stark, naked truth. I’ve never been as honest with anyone as I’m being with Jake, and I have a feeling it’s mutual.

  “I hurt you,
” he continues, hurling us farther onto a path of no return, “and I liked it. What the fuck does that say about me?”

  The broody, tormented look I’ve always found sexy on Jake turns into something deeper. He looks nothing short of being haunted.

  The need to comfort him is overpowering. The pain in his eyes isn’t only melancholic in an arty, slash, alternative, slash, adolescent kind of way. It’s real, and he’s right. It’s fucking scary.

  I squeeze his hand. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I like it too.”

  “The blood.” A small shiver wracks his body. “I don’t even want to think about how you must be feeling inside.”

  Seeing him suffering with remorse dumps a bucket of guilt on my conscience. He’s right about that too. I should’ve told him. I lied on purpose. I didn’t tell him because I didn’t want him to stop. I never considered how withholding the fact that I was a virgin would affect him. In my vodka-infused haze, I never stopped to ask myself how Jake would feel at disrobing his bloodstained cock.

  I dare a glance at him. He has a far-off look in his eyes, seeming to be stuck at the time when he undressed the lie of my silence.

  “Jake.” I nudge his shoulder to catch his attention. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m a bastard.”

  “You’re not. You gave what I asked.”

  He grabs me so fast, I yelp. His hand folds around my chin, his fingers digging into my cheeks, but there’s no malice in his eyes. He doesn’t realize the force of his touch.

  “I’m not a good person.” I open my mouth to contest, but he doesn’t give me a chance. “You’re better off staying away from me.”

  “Jake.” I try to shake my head but he holds fast.

  “You don’t know the kind of thoughts that are running through my head.” His gaze trails over my face, coming to a halt on my lips. They’re pouted in his hold. He goes from tortured to heated in a second, all that dark pain suddenly transferred into something sexual. “You don’t know half of what I want.”