Not even one night passes by when the nightmares don't visit him. He learned to live with them, hide them deeply, accept all the guilt of the things he did and of the things he didn't do. And he found a home with the Riders. But Wood is simply incom...
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Tamie
We don't talk. We haven't talked ever since I woke up and saw him prepare his bag. He beckoned at me to get ready and then we had breakfast in some dinner on the road. He ate looking out the window at the passing traffic and then he drove silently, watching the road and the rearview mirror.
He kissed me! The memory is so vivid I can't resist and place my fingers over my lips. He kissed me. A true kiss. Not an assault on my mouth, not an aggressive act of possession.
Oh, I have been kissed. Daultrey never kissed me but all these men coming to Freddie, they all put their filthy mouths on me and took. They bit, they sucked, they forced. I controlled the vomit that came up my mouth and I always kissed back to keep them happy.
With Wood it was different. He wasn't taking, he was giving. He wasn't attacking, he was conquering. And there was one more reason that made that kiss different: I wanted it.
I so wanted it. For the first time in my life, I wanted a man touching me, kissing me, showing me how much he was aroused by me. I hadn't even realized it till he pulled me down and placed his lips on mine. Those thick, hard lips, dry from the nightmare that plagued him, hot from the fire that burns him.
And then he stopped as if it was rotten and he pushed me away. I have felt his manhood swell under me, I know he wanted me like a man wants a woman. But he sent me away. Why?
I glance up to him as he drives with that determined look on his face. I wish for him to look at me. Like he did last night when he woke up from his nightmare. As if I was his only raft of salvation. His dark eyes were filled with tears, his face so vulnerable, so tortured. It made me feel such hurt inside to see him like this, even if I am scared of him. Those moments as he was panting to get somewhere he will always be late for, he reminded of me, that dark side of me, the one we share. Now, gone is the broken man and he is the strong soldier he usually is while he just drives fast as if he is in a hurry to get rid of me.
Feeling a sharp pain in my stomach, I turn my gaze from him and I look out the window. I may not fully trust him but the idea that I will be parted from him makes my stomach churn. I shut my eyes to scold myself for giving up to him so easily and I open them to look out once more. And I see a sign the reads LOS ANGELES. Los Angeles! Are we close?
"Wood?"
Nothing.
"Wood, are we close to Los Angeles?"
Still nothing.
"Wood? Please?"
He sighs and tightens his jaw. It's not anger, it's something else, something I can't put my finger on. But I stop thinking when he finally speaks.
