Текст книги "Hidden in Lies"
Автор книги: Rachael Duncan
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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
CALL ME A coward, but I stay in the bathroom until we reach our destination. Once Cal gets on the bus, I leave the small space and feign illness as an excuse to retreat to the bedroom for the rest of the night. Alex’s comments hit too close to home. He’s right about everything he said and I want to punch him for it. The bedroom door opens and closes, but I don’t bother rolling over on the bed to see who it is. I know it’s Cal.
“You know, it’s a shame we haven’t had sex since we’ve been on the road,” Cal says. The mattress dips beside me from his weight.
Shoving my thoughts to the back of my brain, I turn over to face him and put my game face on. “I know, but it’s not like we’ve had much privacy lately.” My mouth forms a sexy little pout to make it seem like I’m disappointed.
“We wouldn’t have a problem if you weren’t so vocal,” he says in a smug tone. The urge to roll my eyes is strong. Can he really not tell that I fake it each and every time? “But you know what doesn’t require any noise from you?”
I’m hesitant to respond, knowing exactly where this is going. “What?” I finally choke out, playing into his little game.
“A blow job.” He lays down on the bed next to me and places his hands behind his head, looking at me expectantly.
My mind goes over my options several times, knowing the right one is to give in and get it over with. But for some reason, I just can’t muster up enough energy to fake this. “I’m sorry, Cal, but I’m really not feeling well right now.” My hand runs gently down his chest, hoping to ease the sting of my refusal.
“I wasn’t asking, Elizabeth.” His eyes are cold as they stare into me, completely detached of emotion. My only response is to blink. Surely he can’t be implying what I think he is. “Get over here and give me head,” he demands. I’m stunned into silence and frozen in my spot. When I don’t move he says, “I will not tell you again.” The finality in his voice scares me. He’s never talked to me like this before and, quite frankly, I’m frightened. If I tell him no again, will he force me? Part of me says no way. He wouldn’t make me do something like that against my will. The other part takes in his hard, disconnected reaction and knows that he would. My throat clogs with emotion realizing that I can get up and do it with a little bit of dignity intact, or he could very well force me and make it ten times worse than it already is.
I sit up and move down to his lower half. Sitting back on my knees, I unzip his pants and release his already erect penis. The sight of it makes me cringe. God, I don’t want to do this right now. My eyes glance up at Cal where he raises an eyebrow as if to say, ‘Get on with it.’ So I do. I take the base of his cock in my hand and bring my mouth to the tip before taking him all the way in. There will be no messing around or teasing; I just want to get this over with quickly. I work him fast and hard like he likes it, bobbing my head up and down as fast as I can.
“That’s right, baby. You take that cock, you dirty little whore.” He grabs the back of my head and pushes down as he thrusts up. My gag reflexes kick in as he hits the back of my throat with each push. My jaw tightens trying to reject the intrusion. “Don’t you ever deny me again, you understand? Fucking whores like you love the cock,” he says through gritted teeth. Tears spring to my eyes as he continues to punish my mouth over and over. I’m trying to pull back slightly to ease the ache in my jaw, but he won’t let up. A slew of curse words, rants, and names are thrown out at me.
Bitch. Suck it harder. Fuck. Deeper. Slut.
He makes sure to take every ounce of his pleasure from me. Squeezing my eyes shut, unshed tears spill over and run down my cheeks. In this moment, I feel something I haven’t felt before, and it’s all-consuming.
Hate.
I’ve never been in love with him, but tonight I fucking hate Cal.
“Open your eyes now,” he barks out at me. I comply and don’t try to hide the rage burning within them. I stare into his eyes as he slams into my mouth over and over again. The sad thing is I think my anger and apparent resentment turns him on. Within a handful of seconds I feel him tensing. “You’re going to swallow every last drop. Just like a good little slut.” I do as I’m told as fast as I can, not wanting his taste to linger on my tongue any longer than it has to. He pats the top of my head like a fucking dog and says, “Good job, babe,” and then walks off toward the bathroom.
I crawl over to my side of the bed and collapse into my pillow. After a few moments, I notice the pillow feels wet. That’s when I notice that an endless stream of tears has been falling from my eyes. Never in my life have I felt so cheap, used, broken . . .
Violated.
My stomach starts to revolt as my mind flashes back to what just happened. I start to dry heave so I spring up from the bed and run into the other bathroom on the bus. Without a second to spare, I fall to my knees and empty all the contents of my stomach. When there’s nothing left, I continue to gag and dry heave, eager to remove every last bit of him from my body. My body is exhausted, drained, and sore from my violent vomiting. I lean back against the wall and wipe my mouth with my arm and begin to weep quietly. My arms are placed on top of my knees which are drawn into my body, my head resting on my arms as my body shakes from my restrained sobs.
A light knock on the door causes me to stop breathing. I place a hand over my mouth to help silence the noise I’m making. Fear and dread roll through my body at the thought of Cal being on the other side of that door.
“Elizabeth?” Alex asks quietly. I breathe out in relief but anxiety soon takes over. I can’t let him see me like this. He already knows me too well and in my vulnerable state I won’t be able to lie to him. My internal panic is cut short when the door opens slowly. My eyes immediately cast downward, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Alex crouches down in front of me and places his finger gently under my chin before lifting it up. I know all of my raw emotions are displayed across my face. I’m simply too tired to try to mask it this time. “Jesus, what happened?”
I study him seeing nothing but concern and worry etched in the planes of his face. From the furrow in his eyebrow, to the frantic way his eyes search my face, I know me not answering is killing him. Closing my eyes, I press my lips together and shake my head several times hoping that he understands that I can’t talk about this. He brushes the hair that’s caked to my cheek away from my face. “That’s okay, you don’t have to talk right now if you don’t want to, sweetheart.”
When I open my eyes, I don’t know what comes over me. I launch myself at him and hold on to him, trying desperately to soak in any bit of comfort I can. It doesn’t take long for him to react. His strong arms wrap around my body and hold me tight. He’s not here with me right now for any other motive, he’s here because he actually cares about me. The realization brings on the waterworks again despite my best efforts to hold them off. I bury my face in his neck and begin to sob again.
“Shhh, it’s going to be okay. I’m right here. I’ve got you,” he says softly into my ear. He sits back against the cabinets, never letting me go. I’m curled up in his lap, clutching onto him like a lifeline as he slowly sways us back and forth while whispering words of comfort. I’m not sure how long we sit here, but my tears eventually dry and I know I need to get back to the bedroom. If Cal isn’t asleep already, he’s going to wonder where the hell I’ve been and why.
“I need to get to bed.” Pulling back, I wipe my face one last time before looking back up at Alex. Even with all the tension surrounding his face, he’s still devastatingly handsome. “I’m really sorry I cried all over you. I don’t know what my problem is.” I offer up a weak smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes. He reaches out and slowly strokes the skin below my eye with his thumb. The intimate gesture is almost my undoing.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, the worry on his face still firmly in place.
I nod. “Yes, I’m okay. Thank you.” I don’t give him a chance to question me further or to delve into why I’m thanking him. I hop up and make a hasty retreat to the back bedroom. Slowly opening the door, I peak in to see if Cal is awake or not. Like I thought, his soft snores meet my ears telling me he’s sound asleep. Making as little noise as possible, I quickly change into my pajamas and carefully slide into bed. I pull the covers over me and stare up at the ceiling.
What am I going to do? I can’t leave Cal. I would have a long time ago if that were an option, but tonight’s events prove that it can get a whole lot worse. And it is. Then there’s Alex. God, I wanted to tell him so damn bad. Something about him makes me want to confess all of my secrets, sins, and worries. How the hell am I going to stick through this when there’s a man showing me that there’s more to life? My head spins for what feels like hours, but the last thing that I see before I drift off to sleep are a pair of crystal-blue eyes. And I find comfort in them.
THE NEXT MORNING is awkward to say the least. At least for me it is. I do everything in my power to avoid Cal on the bus, always finding a reason to leave the room when he enters it. Unfortunately, there are only so many places to go. At this point, I know Alex has picked up on the tension from me and knows that whatever was bothering me last night directly involves Cal. He thinks I don’t notice, but I see him studying me trying to put the pieces together. I pray he never finds out. I’m ashamed enough as it is.
“Elizabeth,” I hear Cal yelling from the bedroom. A cold chill runs down my spine at having to face him. Reluctantly, I walk down the hall toward the bedroom. When I enter, I raise my eyebrows acknowledging the request of my appearance. I don’t trust my voice not to betray me if I were to speak to him right now.
“Aaron is going to meet us before my interview to run over some things for the remainder of the week.” A nod is my only response before I turn around to leave. “Elizabeth,” Cal says in a stern voice, stopping me in my tracks.
Swallowing hard, I say, “Yes, dear.” I twist my head around to look at him over my shoulder.
“Are you forgetting something?”
Spinning around to face him, I know my face gives away the confusion I feel. He crooks his finger at me, beckoning me to him. Pushing back the memories of last night, I slowly make my way to him. When I’m within his reach, he curls his arm around my back and pulls me up against him harshly. There’s no affection in the way he holds me to him. The smell of his pine cologne, the feel of his body on mine, and the arrogant look on his face causes my stomach to roll in protest. “Don’t I get a kiss this morning?” Mustering up every piece of strength I have, I give him a small peck on the lips without hurling on the spot. I pull away but don’t get far with Cal’s arm still firmly locked around my back. “You better kiss me like you mean it, Elizabeth.” His eyes momentarily flash with the same callous look from last night, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared.
I work hard to hide the revulsion I feel, the way he treated me last night still too fresh in my mind to fake the love and devotion he expects to see from me. Standing on my toes, I lean in to kiss him when I’m met with such force it knocks the air out of me. My eyes widen in surprise as Cal’s tongue plunges into my mouth. There is nothing sweet or loving about this kiss. It’s dominating, controlling, cold.
Cruel.
The type of kiss that feels like a punishment. His lips are hard on mine as he moves his tongue in and out of my mouth in rough strokes. The taste of his morning coffee disgusts me and I have to fight the urge to push him off of me. My hands travel up his arms in a slow caress, hoping if I’m convincing enough, the onslaught will stop. Finally, he pulls away and looks into my eyes. I smile warmly up at him, slipping back into my role as Mrs. Callahan Fitzgerald.
“Now that’s more like it,” he says. I smile coyly at him before turning around to leave the bedroom. Before I make it out, I feel a sharp slap to my ass, which causes me to jump and let out a little yelp. The noise must startle Alex because he comes barreling down the hallway looking like a man on a mission.
Stopping in front of me, he asks, “Everything alright back here?” I notice his eyes never leave mine, as if we’re the only two on the bus and Cal doesn’t exist.
“We’re fine, Mr. Matthews. I would assume my wife and I were allowed to engage in intimacies without running it past you first,” Cal says before I get a chance to respond. His brash response shocks me. It’s very uncharacteristic of him to talk about such a private topic in front of others. Judging by the way Alex’s fists clench and his jaw tightens, he doesn’t like the comment either.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Fitzgerald. I hear her scream and I don’t take any chances.” His features are tight as he looks up at Cal. I hold my breath waiting for this whole exchange to end. With that, Alex glances at me, turns on his heel and heads back to the front of the bus, leaving Cal and I alone again.
“I think that boy has feelings for you.” My head whips around to look at Cal. I’m shocked he’d say such a thing, especially when it’s not true.
“He’s just doing his job. That’s the way he’s programmed. He is here to protect me after all,” I respond, trying to brush the silly notion off. But I can’t help the swarm of butterflies that take flight in my stomach at the thought of it. Alex is such a sweet and caring person. I haven’t known him long, but I know he has a good heart. He’s the type of man every girl grows up wanting to marry. Their one and only. Their prince charming. I learned a long time ago that fairy tales don’t exist though. There’s no prince charming in my future. No knight in shining armor coming to save me from my tower. I’ll be forever trapped in the life that I’m in.
The bus doors open, and that’s when I notice that we’ve stopped. Aaron bounds up the steps effectively saving me from this pointless conversation with Cal.
“Hey, Cal. Are you ready for this interview today?” Aaron asks when we approach. They shake hands before the three of us have a seat at one of the tables on the side of the bus.
“Yes. None of the questions have changed, right?”
“They’re the same ones I sent over to you earlier this week. Have you had time to prepare?”
“Yes, I’ve got all my talking points completely down.”
“Great. So let’s run over this schedule real quick and we’ll be on our way.” Cal nods and Aaron pulls out his iPad before going to his calendar on it. “Okay, once we’re done with this interview, we’ll start heading back home. There are a few bills being brought to the Senate floor next week that you need to vote on. They’re important and things that will come up in the election. Your opponents will hammer you on these if you don’t cast a vote. So we’ll spend next week in D.C. before heading back out to campaign. Okay?”
“Sounds good to me,” Cal says. I notice neither of them looks at me during this meeting. It’s just expected that I’ll tag along to whatever function or meeting we have to go to. It further reiterates that I have no choice in the matter. Aaron is about to say something else when Cal’s phone rings. When he glances at the screen, he holds up one finger and answers it. “Hello, Mother. How are you?”
Because I’m sitting next to Cal, I can hear every single word she says. But since she’s yelling through the phone, I’m sure Aaron can hear sitting across from us as well. “Have you seen the papers, Callahan?” she screeches.
“What are you talking about?” His eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“The papers! The ones where your wife, Elizabeth, is playing basketball with the poor kids.” My body tenses at the mention of my name, but I’m soon simmering with anger at her blatant disapproval of these kids. She’s such a pretentious bitch. It’s not their fault they’re poor!
“No, Mother, I haven’t. What’s wrong?” He looks over at me accusatorily. I simply shrug, not knowing what else to do or say. I haven’t done anything wrong, but knowing Grace, it’s probably something very trivial.
“You look at those pictures and you tell me. Bringing those mangy kids onto your traveling home! How you ever got fooled into marrying that retched woman is beyond me. It’s clear she wasn’t brought up properly, and now you want to make her first lady?” Her awful comments are followed by a wicked laugh. I sink down into my seat, embarrassment flooding me. It doesn’t matter how many times I hear her say how much she dislikes me, it still stings. My only crime against her is that I was born into a poor family, and to her that means I should be condemned.
“Okay Mother, I’ll look into it.” He disconnects the call and doesn’t acknowledge me. “Do you know what she’s talking about? Have you seen any press from Elizabeth’s visit to the Boys and Girls Club?” Cal asks Aaron.
“It was actually the next thing I was going to show you. Seems she was a hit with the kids and the paper wrote a nice little article about her. She’s exactly what your campaign needs.” He slides the paper over to show Cal where he looks over the article before focusing in on the pictures.
“Elizabeth, why aren’t you wearing shoes?” He turns slowly in his seat to look at me.
“Because I was shooting a basketball and couldn’t get into a good stance in my heels,” I reply slowly, still not seeing what the problem is.
“Do you know how it looks to see the wife of a Fitzgerald—the future first lady—to be parading around barefoot? You’re going to be the laughing stock of my family’s circle of friends now.” His tone never changes. It’s very calm and low, but his eyes show everything. He sees this as an embarrassment. A blemish on the family name. And now he’s pissed about it.
“You can’t be serious. They were off for thirty seconds.” Is he really making a big deal about something so insignificant? I’ll bet the article doesn’t even mention my shoeless feet. “I hardly think it’s that big of a d—” I start but am cut off.
“You know you’re job is this family. You are to present yourself in a way that doesn’t mar the family’s reputation and name. Do you want people to think that you run around shoeless all the time? That I don’t properly provide for you and your basic needs?” I almost snort at that comment since that’s all he does. I’m provided for in all material aspects, but the things that matter—love, companionship, friendship—they’re all missing.
Feeling like a petulant child, my eyes look down to avoid the disapproving stare coming off of Cal. “I’m sorry. I really wasn’t thinking.”
“Yes, well we’ll just make sure I’m at all press functions with you from now on to keep slip ups like these from happening again. Also, why would you let all these kids onto our bus? This is our home and you let them waltz right in.” He slides the article over to me where there’s a picture of the kids climbing on to the bus. Each has a smile on their face, bringing one to my own even now.
“Look at their faces, Cal. They were so happy and excited to do something so simple.” I’m trying to get him to see reason, to see that he’s being completely irrational on both fronts.
“You don’t know these kids. Most of them come from poor, broken families. Any one of them could’ve stolen something. Is that what you want? To be robbed blind by a future thug?” My mouth falls open at his description of these sweet, innocent kids. It’s true that not all of them have had an easy lot in life, but then again neither had I.
“What the cameras didn’t show, sir, is that I gave them all a pat down once they exited the bus. I assure you nothing was stolen,” Alex chimes in. I look over Cal’s shoulder at him, confused by his false statement. Alex was on the bus with me the whole time. He wasn’t patting kids down as they walked off. Cal turns his attention back to me, but my focus is still on Alex. His wink lets me know he’s trying to help bail me out. I fight off the huge smile that threatens to take over my face.
“Well, looks like you’re coming in handy, Mr. Matthews.”
“Like I told you the first day, sir, I’m here to protect all your assets.”
The topic is dropped and Cal moves on to more pressing issues involving the campaign. A sense of gratefulness takes over. Alex saved me from being berated and belittled in front of them. The thought brings a small smile to my face as I wait for us to exit the bus.
“Congressman Fitzgerald, what makes you a good fit to be the next president of the United States?” Cindy White, the reporter asks. I’m standing off camera behind her watching Cal answer the questions.
“I believe in the American people. I believe in their ability to make America great. Our country needs a leader that will fight for them; fight for their jobs, higher wages, their kids’ education, all the things that are important to the people.”
“You brought up kids, and we just saw the spread on your wife, Mrs. Fitzgerald, and her work with the Boys and Girls Club. You don’t have any kids of your own, is that something you see yourself doing in the future? Will there be any Fitzgerald babies running through the White House if you’re elected?” My heart stops. The one question I never wanted anyone to touch on. In fact, I thought these questions were preapproved by Cal’s staff. Why the hell would they let this one through knowing Cal and his family never wants to talk about it?
“Well,” Cal starts in a somber voice. He glances at me and looks down before bringing his attention back up to Cindy. His eyes have taken on a saddened look now, and my curiosity is piqued as to where this is going. “My beautiful wife and I would’ve loved to have kids. Unfortunately, after several tests with fertility doctors,” he stops, looking like he’s composing himself. My eyebrows furrow, waiting for him to finish. “Elizabeth is not able to have children.” He looks like he’s choking back the sorrow—eyes red-rimmed, mouth turned down, swallowing hard—that my failure as a woman has caused. I feel as if the air has been knocked out of me. I stagger back slightly, feeling like I’ve been hit in the face. Without much thought, I numbly turn around and leave the room, desperate to make it back to the bus before I fall apart.
Once I’m out of the room, I practically run down the hallway. The rapid clicking of my heels fills the hallway. “Elizabeth, wait!” I hear Alex shout to me, but I don’t slow down or look back. I need to get to the bus. Alex makes it to my side and I see him look at me from my periphery. I’m not sure what he sees, but whatever it is keeps him from questioning me or asking me to stop. He puts his hand at the small of my back and helps escort me to the safety of the tour bus.
I climb up the steps and try to make it to the bedroom, but stop at the table. I brace both hands on the table and squeeze my eyes shut. “That bastard!” I shout. How dare he say that on live television! I hear the bus door open and close. Looking over to my left, I notice the driver is nowhere to be seen. My outburst is probably responsible for his hasty exit.
“Elizabeth, what’s wrong? Please, talk to me.” I notice he doesn’t make a move to touch me, giving me my space.
A humorless laugh escapes my lips. That’s it, I’m officially losing it. Being in this shitty marriage with this fake life has finally caused me to lose touch with reality. A gentle touch to my arm breaks me free from my hysteria. I turn to face Alex. “Cal, he lied.”
Shaking his head slightly, he says, “About what?”
“About us having kids. It’s not me, it’s him. He’s the one with the fertility issues, not me. He just took the one thing I’ve always wanted and blamed me for not having it.” My heart hurts and a small fire coils in my stomach. I’m crushed and furious at the same time. When we started trying, Grace told me constantly that the most important part of being a woman is being able to carry a child. Especially in my life, what else is there for me to do other than raise kids? I don’t contribute to society in any real way, but I thought having kids would be my way of leaving a mark on this world. I’d be able to raise incredible children that would do something with their lives. They would be more than I ever was, and kind and giving unlike their father. They would be the best part of me and make the world a better place with their achievements. It wouldn’t be about the bottom dollar for them, it would be about making a difference. But that will never happen, and now everyone thinks it’s because of me. In his one comment, he has stripped me bare and made me feel lower than I ever have before.
“Come here, let’s sit down.” He guides me over to the couch and puts his arm around my shoulder in comfort once we’re seated. “I still don’t get it. Why would he lie about that though?”
I huff out a small laugh. “You don’t know Cal and his family very well. Everything rests on public perception and appearances. You saw the way they acted because I took my heels off on the basketball court. They’re ridiculous with this stuff. We had tried to have kids, being told by his mother that it was about time to do so. How we needed to have a child to leave his inheritance to, to carry on the family history. After trying for a while, we went to the doctor. Of course, they thought the problem was me. They tested me for all kinds of issues before turning to Cal. They did a few tests and it was determined that he has fertility issues. His sperm count is so low he’s basically shooting blanks. His mother was mortified. How would it look if her son wasn’t able to have children? That there would be no one to carry on the family name and legacy of greatness and wealth? You would’ve thought Cal had a grotesque deformity with the way she acted. She made the doctor and nurses sign a nondisclosure agreement and threatened me if I told anyone. She said we would just act as if the issue never existed. We wouldn’t acknowledge it and pretend that it was a choice to be childless rather than a medical issue. Until today, we never have talked about it.” I sigh, feeling exhausted and relieved. It feels good to get that burden off of my chest, but I’m mentally drained from the sudden emotional swings I’ve been feeling lately.
“Wow, I don’t really know what to say.” His fingers draw small circles on my shoulder, further relaxing me. “Do they think they’re royalty or some shit?” he mumbles. I appreciate his attempt to lighten the mood.
“It’s okay. There’s not much for you to say. I’m probably just overreacting, but I was really shocked when he said that to the reporter. Especially with the way he was playing up his sadness. Cal doesn’t even like kids.” I shake my head at the thought of actually having a baby with him. I can’t picture him doing anything with a baby. No diaper changes, feedings, late night rocking, nothing. Maybe it’s best that we’re not able to have any. I wouldn’t want to raise a child in the same misery I feel on a daily basis.
“He’s missing out. You’d make some gorgeous babies.” I turn to look at Alex, his honesty catching me off guard. When our eyes lock, I feel it. The connection, the chemistry, the invisible electric current that draws me to him. Our eyes stay locked on each other; his blues to my greens. With our close proximity I know something is about to happen, and it will change everything in my life forever. But at the same time, I’m absolutely helpless to stop it.
His hand comes up slowly to brush a piece of hair behind my ear, his eyes following the movement as he goes. His finger trails down the side of my face and neck before disconnecting from my skin. The loss causing me to feel cold and needy for his touch again. His gaze fixates on my lips and I instinctively lick them. He leans in the smallest amount before stopping, hesitation written all over his face. I’m like a statue, afraid to move for fear of ending whatever is about to happen. The indecision he’s fighting is playing across his features, a war raging within. His eyes break away from my lips and connect with my eyes. I’m not sure what he sees in them, but it pushes him over the edge. He crashes into me, pressing his lips firmly against mine. My breath is stolen away at the same time that I feel like I’m breathing in a new life. He’s attentive, affectionate, and knows exactly what to do with his tongue to drive me completely wild.
His hand comes up to cup my cheek as he slows the kiss down. His tongue traces my lower lip before it makes its way back into my mouth engaging in a slow tango with mine. The heat and passion are almost too much to bare, sending warmth straight to my core and soaking my panties right through. I’m about to wrap my arms around him and pull him in closer when he breaks the connection. His forehead rests against mine with his eyes closed and he drags in each breath. Both of our chests are heaving up and down, trying to regulate our breathing and heartbeat.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry Elizabeth,” he pulls away and what I see crushes me.
Regret.
Standing quickly, he walks to the front of the bus and exits, leaving me alone with my thoughts. After a moment, I go to the window at the side of the bus and look out hoping to see him. He’s standing there, hands on his hips, shaking his head back and forth. I can’t see his face, but the slumped posture tells me he’s tortured. I don’t know if it’s because he’s fighting this indescribable connection between us, or if he really regrets kissing me. I’m not sure what the hell that was or what this means for my future, but I do know that there’s something missing that I’d thought would be there after kissing another man.
Guilt.
I don’t feel guilty in the slightest. Maybe I should, but all I can think about is the taste of Alex’s peppermint gum and the way he felt against my lips. My body is still vibrating with the residual electricity. I know without certainty that Alex has ruined me. Nothing will ever compare to this moment. I’d bet my life on it.
