Page 19 of West (The Moral Compass 1)
When I turned sixteen, I left foster care and started living on my own. Kara helped with bits of cash, helped me find work, and we shared a tiny apartment for a while. But for Aunt Sarah’s sake, I had to leave her behind. My mother would have ruined her, too. I feel my breath still, so I shake it off and carry on with the film. Maybe I should contact her someday.
The film was as great as it ever was. By this time, I’ve had three glasses of very nice wine. I feel so relaxed. So much, in fact, that I don’t need my painkillers tonight. I don’t think it would be wise anyway, but I don’t want them or need them.
Painkillers are scary shit. That’s what my mother got addicted to before the rest of the crap she started pumping into her body. She always blamed me for her addiction. She claimed that childbirth caused her so much pain that she needed constant medication. You can tell what type of childhood I had.
I bring myself back to the present time with a yawn. West looks down at me, and those eyes catch me completely unaware. He lifts my chin again as he did in the hospital, but this time I’m not crying. And then it happens.
His lips touch mine. His teeth graze my bottom lip gently. His tongue searches for mine, and we kiss. It’s like watching the fireworks competitions on the beach. I’ve never been kissed like this before. We are completely as one. There is no awkward moving of faces to avoid the other’s nose. He just holds me still under my chin and kisses me. He moves his arm from behind me and lays me down on the sofa, not leaving my lips at all.
Woah, this is a skill.
He must sense me thinking as he pulls away slightly to check if I’m okay. I nod and blink, and he’s there again on my mouth. I can’t help the moan that escapes.
This is heaven, and if this is only a kiss, I’m in trouble. Big fucking trouble.
His free hand is now working its way up my top, caressing the skin under my breasts. His fingers drag slowly over the material of my bra, and he slides it down to expose my whole nipple. He rubs my nipple between his finger and thumb. It’s sending shockwaves right down to my core. He starts kissing my lobe and moves down my neck to my collar bone. My t-shirt is being lifted under my chin, and his mouth is sucking gently on my pebbled nipple.
I moan again. I can’t believe this is happening. I’m not complaining. This is the best experience of my life. He feels like he wants to be doing this, that he is enjoying it, and it’s not just some way to get me turned on enough to let him stick his dick in me.
He stops and looks up straight into my eyes.
I nod because I can’t fucking speak. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand either. He gets up and offers his hand. I take it and try to pull myself up. Before I can even get off the sofa, one of his arms is underneath my legs, one is around my back, and I’m being carried away. I’ve not been anywhere but the kitchen and the lounge in the few hours I’ve been here, so I’m keen to see where I’m going.
We go down the corridor and I’m counting the doors.
Yep, this is mine. I remember him telling the movers about the second door on the left.
He opens the door and puts me down gently on the bed. “I’m going to get your crutches. You might need them later.” He turns and leaves.
This room is stunning. It is all creams and beige. Very much like a high-end hotel room. There are no cushions or frills. Rather, it’s a very classical, beautiful room. A stunning picture of an orchid hangs on the wall. It’s not the whole plant—just one flower—but it’s breath-taking It’s very pale-pink petals blend in with the cream walls, and the silver frame make it stand out enough. I wonder who designed this apartment. It was someone with a man in mind. There is hardly anything feminine about this apartment except for the odd picture of a flower here and there.
I guess that’s him telling me that our little excitement is over. If I need my crutches, it’s because I’ll be on my own in this room. I touch my lips, remembering his kiss, and I can still taste his minty mouth on my lips. I look over and spy the one box the movers haven’t unpacked, making a note to check its contents later.
I look up and he’s stood at the door with my crutches. “Where do you want these?” he asks. I point to the corner next to the bed where I’ll be able to reach them if I need them. The air in the room is crackling. I can see he’s searching for something to say or do, but I don’t know what.
“I better let you get to sleep, Sutton. You’ve had a big day today.”
He walks over and kisses meon the fucking headand walks out calmly.
Shit, I wish I could walk. I’d stomp right after him and smack those fucking amazing abs.
He cares. That’s why he left. Not because he doesn’t want me but because he’s scared of hurting me. All he sees is a broken woman.
Well, Mr. Hot Coffee, you ain’t seen anything yet. Sutton Smith V2 is coming to get you. Just wait and see. I start laughing at the images rolling through my head. You’re a nutcase, Sutton.
I pick up my phone which is on the side of the bed.
I better text Kara. I know she’s busy with her niece, but she’ll still want to know I’m okay.
Sutton: Hey, I’m living the life of luxury over here. Mr. Hot Coffee’s apartment is bigger than anything I’ve ever seen. It’s amazing. Please say you will come to visit me soon. I need my bestie. I’m going a bit crazy with all this hotness around me.
Kara: Of course I’ll come. It won’t be until Monday though. Is that okay?
Sutton: Monday? Why Monday? Today is Thursday. That’s four days away! I’m gonna be here all on my own tomorrow, and I don’t know where everything is. Please come tomorrow. xxx
Kara: You won’t be on your own. Night. ;) xxx
What? How the fuck does she know I’m not going to be on my own? I head for the bathroom and find it kitted out with luxury brands and my favourite shampoo: raspberry and apple. How did he know? I also notice there is a plastic chair in the shower.
