Devils Roses 01 - Cursed

more. His body was crushing me into the dark door. He pushed himself away and turned and waved backwards.
    He started the truck and drove off like a madman. My fingers dug into the door, trying to grip the hard surface. He was the right fit for my heart. He always had been. I turned and went back inside, feeling sick about Aleks and Shane and the whole mess.
    My dad grinned with his glasses and glass of wine, pretending to read the textbook he held. I rolled my eyes. "Night."
    "Uh huh."
    I was just grateful my sister wasn’t home to witness my whorish ways. If I had to guess, I would assume she was at Blake’s house.
    I climbed the stairs, trying to make it all the way to the top so my dad wouldn’t doubt my miraculous recovery. In truth, the stairs were death. My poor legs shook as I made it up all the way. Being around Aleks seemed to be the only thing that made me feel good.
    That worried me. Almost as much as walking into my room and having to look in his eyes.
    I opened my bedroom door to find him lying on my bed reading a book on how to decipher Arabic.
    He was in his jeans still half naked on my bed. I frowned at his jeans, imagining all of the salt and sand that would be covering my sheets, adding to what I had already left there.
    He smiled, as I closed my door and locked it. “I took the sheets and my pants outside and shook them, there isn’t any sand.”
    "Thanks." I wondered if he could read my mind, or if, because he was a figment of my mind, he knew what I was thinking.
    His crooked smile seemed to be stuck on his face. His piercing blue eyes were driving me crazy.
    I walked near him. He grabbed my hand and pulled me on top of him. He rubbed my back. “I haven’t seen these kind of pajamas on a girl your age, in a long time.”
    I frowned, raising one eyebrow, “Fleece?” I could still taste Shane. I felt bad and yet still turned on. I was becoming a hot mess.
    He laughed. “Yeah, girls your age wear sexy things.”
    I couldn’t help but laugh back. “Well, I had panties and a tank top on, but you wrecked them. Honestly, I just can’t seem to shake feeling cold and itchy. These make me feel nice.”
    He agreed. “I love fleece, it makes me want to rub you.” His strong hands rubbing up and down my spine did feel very nice; I could have fallen asleep, if I wasn’t in the mood to rip his clothes off and have him deflower me right there.
    The sexy vibe started to fade away as his massage deepened. It relaxed me and made me sleepy. My head didn’t hurt while he was touching me. I felt peaceful. I knew I had to follow the plan though, if I was ever going to get beyond the schizophrenia fears I was harboring.
    I rolled off of him to the side of my bed. It didn’t seem to deter him from kissing my neck and rubbing the outer thigh of my PJ's.
    Feeling the lust coming back, I pushed him away. “Go to the chair, we need to talk.”
    He groaned. “We can talk here. I’ll behave.” He kissed my cheek once, pausing, as he inhaled the fresh scent of my soap no doubt. I turned my face and felt his lips brush mine, sensually again, like the first kiss. I fell into the kiss again, finding myself chasing him. Trying to get him to pull into me and smother me with his affections. I inhaled his scent, feeling my skin tingle and eyes roll back into my head.
    Somehow, and I’m honestly not sure how, I managed to pull myself away. “Go to the chair. You’re not behaving and I know I can't.”
    He looked at me through his crazy-long dark lashes and smiled an innocent look. "I can try harder."
    I groaned and pushed him off the bed with all the strength I had.
    He landed on his feet with amazing reflexes and grabbed the chair from the other side of the room. He pulled it over to beside my bed. He sat on it backwards waiting.
    “ Okay, I’m ready brainiac—fire away.” He kept a smirk on his face, probably already knowing the questions I had to ask.
    I lay on my back. “Okay, so we are going to do the Q&A portion of this evening, quickly. I have about ten minutes of effort left in me and need some sleep. Ready?”
    “ Do your worst.”
    "Did the drugs ruin my brain?"
    "What?"
    "Do I have drug-induced schizophrenia? Are you a figment of my imagination?"
    "You have sand on your floor from the beach, I healed your pain, the answer is obviously not scientific. Next."
    “ How old are you?”
    “ Six hundred and forty-three.” He responded quickly and efficiently. I liked that.
    “ How many families