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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Relationship · #1930365
The thin line between love and hate is one that she always walks with him.
         “Damon,” I breathe.  There he is, standing outside my door, blocking me from going in… gorgeous as ever… all six feet eight inches of him.  I hate this man.  I love this man.  He has broken my heart so many times that I’ve lost count since the first time I met him six years ago.  But my stupid heart can’t seem to move beyond him.  When he isn’t leaving me to find greener pastures, he is so sweet, so attentive, and so, so loving.  I’ve never had a better lover and I doubt that I ever will. 

         My eyes travel from his dusty Ropers up his long faded Wrangler clad legs, knowing full well that the back of his jeans house one of the finest asses ever in the history of man.  He’s wearing a form fitting tee-shirt that reads George Strait Always and Forever Tour and it shows his six pack, his stunning pecs and broad strong shoulders.  He has a fine dusting of dark five o’clock shadow over his square chin with its small cleft.  My eyes linger on his full lips, remembering the number of times he’s worshiped my body with them and my heart speeds up.  His eyes are watching me intently, dark hazel and full of so many promises both past and future; broken and kept.  It is all I can do to keep from moving to him and running my hands through his silky raven hair, a pastime I could happily engage in for the rest of my life.

         “Angel,” he says and my body responds as the deep, dark, smooth texture of his voice washes over me.  I swallow hard, feeling my heart speed up and yearn for him.  I must remain cautious… I am tired of being his toy.  I want more… I want more from him.

         “Why are you here?” I can hear my own defensiveness and I watch as Damon flinches.

         “I’m here for you.”

         Those simple words… four of them… they mean so much but yet so little.  He’s played me before and I won’t let him do it again.  I bite back the nasty retort that burns on my tongue like acid.

         “You look beautiful,” Damon murmurs as he steps closer to me.  I can smell him now and God does he smell divine.  I’ve miss the smell of Drakkar mixed with pure, raw man… it sends my libido into high gear. 

         I know I look good, I’ve been working my ass off at the gym to keep myself from eating my way into a hole of depression since he left six months ago.  Every inch of my five foot nine frame has become toned, making my curves more evident in all the right places.  I’ve also cut my strawberry blond hair from waist length to just below my shoulders and had Kit give it a style that is new and flirty.  I’m grateful I bothered with make-up today, not much, just enough to highlight my deep blue eyes and high cheekbones. 

         “Talk to me, please,” he pleads, taking another step or two toward me.

         “Why?  I’m not going to be your toy anymore.  I told you when you left the last time that we were through.”

         “I’m done leaving.”

         “That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

         I walk past him, unlocking my door to slam it in his face and Drakkar assaults my senses, weakening my resolve.  I will not let him back in… I will not let him have my body again.

         Damon’s hand shoots out just as I get ready to go in and he catches my arm, turning me to face him, a scant six inches separate us.  His hazel eyes are intense and there is a new fire, something different burning deep in them.

         “It isn’t bullshit, Angel.  I’m not leaving again… I’m here for you.” His words are said with such conviction that I almost believe him… almost.  But he’s said words like these before and gone back on them before.

         “I don’t believe you and I won’t be your toy.  Let me go, Damon.”  I am struggling to keep my temper and keep my hard won calm and keep from throwing myself at him.  He is my Achilles heel… I love him… but I hate him.  Why can’t he just leave me be?

         “I don’t want a toy, Angel,” he growls, pulling me against all of the hard contours of his lean body… and God he fits me so well. “I want you.”

         “Damon,” I whisper.  I close my eyes, searching for strength to resist him, my body aching to know him again.

         “Let me prove it,” he pleads in my ear, his mouth so close to me and his breath warm against my neck.  Gooseflesh flares across my body and the ache intensifies, moisture blooms between my legs… I want him so badly.

         “No.  I’m not some plaything that you can treat so casually.  You can’t have me anymore.” I cannot believe that I’ve managed to resist him when he is so close, so hot and so, so hard against my thigh.

         “I’m no good without you.  You’re my blue eyed angel and I need you.  Please.  I am here for you.” His words sound almost desperate in my ear and I close my eyes again.

         “Damon you are only here for a fuck… that’s all you ever come around for.”

         “Not this time.  It’s different this time… I’m different.”

         I push against his hard, solid chest and he lets me move back a fraction so that I can see his eyes.  His eyes are the windows to his soul and he can’t hide from me there. 

         “How?  How are you different?” I ask as I lock my blue eyes with his hazel ones.

         “Melinda died,” he whispers and I see the depth of his pain flaring in his eyes.  My heart clenches horribly and tears flood my eyes.

         “Oh Damon, I’m so sorry,” I gasp.  His sister had been my best friend once… before Damon had left me the first time.  Even after all of this time I still love her like the sister I never had.

         “She told me…” and the crack in his voice makes his pain more difficult to bear.  “… told me… that I needed to be honest with myself and you.”

         “What does that mean?” I ask, my breathing shallow and ragged.

         “I didn’t know and for the longest time after she died, I didn’t care.  Until I was standing at her grave in the snow of northern Montana… Angel, I realized just how much I love you.  I need you to know that I love you.” The heartfelt whisper takes me by surprise and my knees nearly buckle.  If Damon wasn’t holding me, I’m sure I’d have hit the floor.

         “Why should I believe you?” I can hear the tears thickening my words and I hate myself for them.

         “Because it’s the truth.  I’ve always loved you.  That’s why I kept running from you.  I feared the power the admission would give you.  You already have too much power over me.”

         Tears are clinging to my eyelashes and I can see them sparkling diamond bright in the evening sun, but I’m afraid to believe him.  If I give in to him again… admit to him my true feelings… it’ll kill me when he leaves the next time.

         “I have no power over you,” it’s a harsh whisper, full of raw emotion.

         “Oh Angel, you have all of the power.  I crave you like the strongest drug, desire you with every fiber of my being.  Melinda knew it… she warned me that I was pissing away the best thing I’d ever had, the purest thing.  I understand now.”

         “I can’t, Damon… I can’t… you always leave.”

         I hate that a tear has slipped from my eye, hate that he has once again made it happen.  How many God forsaken tears must I shed for this man before he gives me my freedom?

         “Angel, I love you.  I’m here for you.” Damon repeats and I feel my heart begin to crack.  Pain floods me and I can feel my resolve dying a tortured death.  I’m shaking my head in denial and clench my eyes shut tight.

         “Look at me, Angel.  You know me better than anyone except Melinda.  Look at me.”

         I open my eyes and they collide with hazel.  I see the strength of his conviction and depth of his feelings blazing in those beautiful eyes.  How can I fight him?  He has owned me from the first time I ever saw him in the parlor of his parent’s home six years ago at the tender age of eighteen. 

         “I love you and I will not run… I swear it on Melinda’s grave.”

         I’m broken.  He’s ensnared me as completely as he has in the past and I cannot fight him.  I’m his to do with as he pleases and am utterly at his mercy.

         “You’re going to kill me,” I gasp as the tears flow freely from my eyes.

         “Angel, I don’t want to kill you.  I only want to love you.”  He whispers it tenderly as his hand comes up to caress the tears from my cheeks.  I am frozen as his lips find mine and begin plying soft, gentle kisses.  Damon picks me up and steps over the threshold.  He kicks the door shut and lowers me gently until I’m standing in the middle of my living room. 

         I'm confused as he begins to lift his shirt until it drops to the floor revealing a tattoo that hadn’t been there before.  It’s an angel in all of its heavenly glory placed directly over his heart.  With a trembling hand I reach up to touch it but stop a mere inch from it, afraid to touch him… to feel his heartbeat.  His hazel eyes are locked with mine as he puts his hand over my hand and presses it to his chest.  There it is, strong and fast, the beat of the heart belonging to the only man I’ve ever loved.

         “It’s you… you own my heart… you own me.  Please believe me.”

         Damon drops to his knees as though in prayer, his head bent and it feels like he’s waiting for me to acknowledge him.           I kneel before him and touch the tattoo with the tips of my fingers before tracing the curve of his muscle to his shoulder and down his arm to his wrist where I finger the gold bracelet that I gave him two years earlier.  Only now do I realize that he’s had it on the entire time.

         “I need you, Angel,” he admits in a hushed and sincere voice.

         I know I am going to cave in once again and with one last desperate gasp I do.

         “I’m yours,” I whisper.

         In the space of a heartbeat, Damon’s mouth is on mine, possessing me as his tongue tastes the depths of my mouth.  It’s what I know… what I yearn for… what I need.  His hands are lifting my shirt as he’s lowering me to lay on the floor.  The sharp gasp that breaks us apart is from me as my back touches the cold linoleum.  It gives him time to take the shirt from me before his lips return to own me.

         I cannot help but reach in vain for something… anything to keep me grounded to reality as Damon begins a slow sensual assault.  He’s bent over me and his lips have found the one place at the base of my ear that steals my breath and control all at once.  His hand follows my arm to where my hand has become a fist.  As his teeth find my earlobe and gently bite down, he covers my fist and laces his fingers with mine.

         Once again, I am his… my body, my heart… my soul and somewhere, deep down, I know that he is mine… finally.

Written for a Facebook page prompt.

2002 words
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