Maybe August is right.
CHAPTER9
August
I snapped.
I shouldn’t have, but I did, and now she’s rocking back and forth in the dirt like I’ve crushed her fucking soul. Fuck! I tried to be nice. I wanted to show I was willing to do anything for her, but none of that made a difference. It’s never enough.Iam never enough.
Maybe Clemmie was right about Mom too. I never felt loved by her. I was nothing but an inconvenience. An extra mouth to feed that she never wanted. I’ve never felt love like I have for Clemmie. Our relationship is fucked up, and she’s my addiction, but I’ll never leave her.
“Clemmie, I should never have said it like that,” I duck and put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m trying to look out for you.”
She sniffs and looks up. Her green irises stand out against her bloodshot eyes, and they narrow at me. “You’re right. You shouldn’t have said it at all.”
“I only said it because I care... because I love you... because I want you to know what real fucking love feels like and to see him for who he really is.”
“You don’t love me!” Clemmie snarls, wiping her tears away. “If you did, you’d show me how you felt. All you do is threaten to leave, tell me how much you hate Daddy, and run away whenever I show you affection. Those men may have hurt me last night, but at least they wanted me. You don’t want me, August!”
“Clem...” I struggle to find the right words. “Of course I want you. It’s just—”
“It’s just, what?” Her eyes blaze with anger. “You get jealous when you see me with other men. You kill other men to stop them from hurting me, but you don’t want to be with me. You want me to run away with you, but you can’t bear to touch me. You make no sense!”
“I don’t want to be like them!” I blast. “You mean more to me than anyone else, and that’s why I don’t want to treat you like they do, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
She crosses her arms over her chest.
“Prove it,” she demands.
This is a moment which there is no going back from.
I can either run like I always do or give her what she desires and what I’ve been unable to stop thinking about since I laid eyes on her. Clemmie doesn’t believe I care, but if I show her how much I do, I’d never want her to touch another man again. I want her to belong to me.
I grab her waist and pull her toward me. I’ve spent so long pushing her away that feeling her tiny body and her silky nightgown against my skin feels right. Her sweet shampoo fills my nostrils, and something else too.Her scent.The smell of home.
This isn’t the pool house at midnight. We’re in the woods, surrounded by trees, and there’s no one else around. If I didn’t know better, this could be from a fairytale. I wish it were. I wish this place were far away from here. A safe place where it was only the two of us, and the real world couldn’t touch us.
I’ve spent months denying our connection because I’ve wanted to play the role of her brother and haven’t wanted to share her with my father. I’ve ignored what matters most and what my heart has been telling me. I want Clemmie to be mine and mine alone.
Her chin tips up, and the sun hits her hair, illuminating her in a golden glow. Her lips part as she goes to kiss me, and I don’t back away. Our lips brush, then we kiss. Our mouths and tongues explore each other hungrily like we’re the air the other needs to breathe. Her small fists grab and cling onto my T-shirt as if I’m the very thing anchoring her to this godforsaken world, and I hold her so fucking tight because I’m afraid of what’ll happen if I let go.
All of my worries disappear. Everything else is irrelevant when she’s in my arms and her lips are on mine. We came into this world on the same day and were set on a fucked-up path, but now we’ve found each other, I never want to let her go. I couldn’t protect Mom, but I wasn’t going to let history repeat itself.
We kiss until her lips are red and puffy, but I catch her hand as it slides down my chest and rests on my erection. I almost cum in my pants at her touch, but I don’t. Succumbing to my desires should feel wrong, but I’ve never felt so right or complete.
“What’s wrong?” Clemmie asks, her expression turning fearful. “Don’t you like it?”
I put my thumb to her lips to silence her.
“Of course, I do,” I growl, wanting nothing more than for her to wrap her thighs around me and fuck her until she cries my name. “But you’re hurt. I’m not gonna hurt you some more.”
“Please, August,” she pleads. Her eyelids are hooded with lust. “I need more. I need to feel all of you. I really fucking need you.”
She has me at the word ‘need.’
“Lie down,” I instruct. “I want to show you there is more to making love than machines and groups of strangers. I’ll show you the real difference between fucking and making love.”
She does as I ask. The mossy ground is surprisingly soft, softer than other mattresses I’ve slept on in the past. Clemmie’s hair splays around her head like a blonde halo. Her silky lilac slip shows off her pointed nipples and dips between her thighs, where I know she’ll be wet and waiting for me. But I don’t want to hurt her. I’m gonna make this last. I’ll show her how much she means to me and prove there’s so much more to sex than what she’s been used to.