Page 149 of Demo
“Would you like me to help?” I ask, trying to stifle another laugh.
“Please!” she huffs.
I grab one foot and pull the pant leg just past her heel, then do the same with the other foot. I grip the hem of each leg and tug her pants until they slide free, and those get thrown to the side. When I look back at her, she has her hands on her belly, and her eyes are locked on the ceiling.
“Knox,” she says quietly.
“Yeah?” I answer.
She runs her hands under her T-shirt, over the lumpy skin of her stomach.
I take a step closer. “What is it, Lizzie?”
“Is this …” She brings her hands out from under her shirt and crosses them over herself as she runs them up her arms before curling her knees up and rolling to her side. “Is this what it always feels like?”
I know exactly what she’s talking about. I know exactly what she’s feeling. This is the warmth of the high. The caress. The part that makes you feel euphoric. Every touch feels so damn good, your body aches.
I know Lizzie’s body is aching right now, and I know what can ease it.
Leaning down and crawling over her to the other side of the bed, I say, “I know you don’t want me to sleep in here, and I won’t. I just want to lay next to you for a little bit, until you come down, OK?”
Rolling over so she’s on her side facing me, she nods. Tentatively, I reach out my hand to smooth hair off her face, and I see her eyes flutter shut. I run my fingertips along the side of her face, and I watch her mouth fall open just a bit.
I scoot closer to her so I can prop myself up on an elbow and look down at her as she rolls onto her back. I bring my hand up and, ever so slightly, touch her lips with my fingertips and trace them. I can feel her breath on my fingers as her breathing picks up.
“Knox,” she says, eyes still closed, and it sounds sad.
“It’s OK,” I say. “I’m not … I’m just going to hold you, OK?”
She nods and lets out a sound like a whimper. I run my hand down her shoulder then her arm, then around to her back and pull her closer to me. I slide my hand up the back of her shirt and rub circles on her bare back with my fingers. Her face is pressed into my chest, and she puts her hands between us. As I continue to rub her back, she runs her hands up my chest, over my shirt, until they hit the scruff on my neck and chin.
And it’s like she’s made a new discovery. Without hesitating she runs her hands, fingers spread wide, over either side of my jaw, then pulls my face down to hers and rubs her cheek against mine, like a cat.
My cock aches. And my heart.
I hear a little moan escape her before she giggles again. And then she suddenly stops.
I still my body, just like hers, before asking, “What is it, Lizzie?”
She doesn’t answer, she just stays still. Then I feel a little shake. “Lizzie?” I pull back to look at her face, cupping it in my hand. “Talk to me.”
Her eyes are still unfocused and cloudy as she stares at my chest. “It feels so good, but …”
“But what?”
She takes a shallow breath, then another, and another, and they are getting quicker.And here comes the downturn.
“But … but … it hurts,” she says with a shudder, as tears start to fall across her face.
“What hurts?” I ask as I stroke her arm again to try and comfort her.
“No, no. Stop!” she says as she pushes my hand away. “Just … just stop.” And then she is sobbing. “It hurts,” she cries. “It all hurts.”
I push myself up on my hand and look down at her, having to stop myself from touching her. “Where, baby? Where does it hurt? What hurts?”
She draws in a shaky breath. “Everything. Everywhere you are. It hurts.” And she continues sobbing. “It hurts Knox. Doesn’t it hurt? I don’t want it to hurt anymore.” Then she buries her face in her hands and begins bawling.
My chest cracks in two, because I know. I know the only way to make it stop hurting. What we’ve been going through the past few months has been a slow, torturous death, and the only way to make it stop is to finally put an end to it.
