The Brink of Destruction

His arms were around me as soon as I opened the door. Burying my face in his shoulder, I felt a sickening mixture of joy and guilt, knowing that Dustin had no one to comfort him this way.

Billie's hands cupped my face and tilted it up to his. "What happened?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"I guess so," I said, nodding. "But there's something you and I should talk about."

He took my hand and led me over to my bed, and we sat cross-legged, facing each other. He was waiting for me to speak, not leading me with questions.

After a deep breath, I plunged in. "All week I've been thinking about Dustin, and about you. You were right, Dustin hasn't changed--I have. He still wants the same things, and I don't know what the hell I want. It's so unfair to him, but there it is. And the bottom line is that I just don't feel the same way about him now. He doesn't deserve someone who can only be halfway in it with him."

"No, he doesn't," he said solemnly. "But at least now you know how you feel," he said.

"So does he."

"Oh, fuck!--you've talked to him? Is that why you're so upset?"

"It was really hard to do, Billie. He's such a good guy, and he tried so hard to change my mind. But no matter how much I try, I just can't pretend we're right for each other anymore."

I'd wanted Billie to be here, and now that I'd told him, I was afraid of what he would say. I could imagine him putting himself in Dustin's shoes and letting go all the hurt he carried around inside himself on me.

Of course, he totally surprised me again.

"Genny, if that's how you feel, then what you did was right. It's not fair to keep him thinking you're in love with him when you're not. You don't have to feel bad about telling him the truth. You did the right thing. The question is--where do you go from here?" He was so calm, so matter-of-fact, that just listening to him made it seem simple, straightforward, without any of the confusing grey areas that I tended to live in.

I reached for his hand, and held it between mine, stroking his knuckles and feeling the rough callouses on his fingertips. "Is this still an option?" I asked, looking into his eyes and feeling very vulnerable.

"Oh, most definitely," he said, tightening his grip on my hand. "But I'm not easy to be with, you have to know that."

"Oh, I do know."

"No, I mean it. Ask Mike--shit, he's probably already told you all about me! The last thing I want to do is hurt you by being the idiot that I am."

"I'm willing to take my chances," I smiled.

He leaned back against the pillow and opened his arms wide. "C'mere."

There was nothing in the world I wanted more, and I melted against him, my head settling against his chest. His heart was beating fast against my ear, and I knew he was feeling the same thing I was.

"Gen?"

I looked up and saw he was smiling mischievously. "Yeah?"

"You know I'm gonna kiss you, right?" His eyes were shining, and that slightly crooked grin of his lit up his face.

"I was kinda hoping you might." I closed my eyes, and this time he wasn't rough and hurried. He lowered his lips until the warmth filled my mouth like honey, and his breath carried the faint scent of cinnamon. Almost too slowly, his hands turned my body until he was above me on the bed, never breaking the kiss, never interrupting the soft press of his lips. His arm under my waist held me tight against him, and his other hand cradled my head so gently that it felt weightless.

He drew his head back slightly, releasing his hold on my mouth, and opened his eyes.
How did I ever miss how beautiful they are, green as the ocean and full of smoky secrets?

"Genny?" The husky whisper warmed my cheek.

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna kiss you again, okay?"

"Oh, yes, very okay," I sighed.

"And I want you to tell me how you like to be kissed."

Wow. I'd never been asked that. I was sure he could accommodate anything I might have asked for. My mind went back to that first time, so passionate and intense that I'd been unable to stop thinking about it for days.

But now I needed exactly what he'd instinctively been giving me. I felt fragile, and his gentleness was so comforting.

"This is perfect," I whispered.

"You're perfect," he said, and brushed my lips again. As he kissed me, he slid his hand up my side to stroke my check and caress my hair. My fingers were tangled in his curly blond hair, fascinated by the woolly dreadlocks, and when I lightly dragged my nails over the back of his neck, he sighed against my lips.

His kisses trailed over my cheek, my ear, and down to my neck, making me shiver. When he drew my earlobe between his lips, stroking it with his tongue, I gripped his shoulders tight. I'd never felt anything quite so delicious before, and without my consent, my eyes rolled up under my lids, and my back arched against him.

When he felt my breasts press against his hard chest, I heard the quick hiss of breath between his teeth, and his mouth slid just under my ear, finding the pulse pounding like a mad drumbeat. The swirl of his tongue was heating my blood and turning my mind to pudding.

With boldness I'd never imagined, I covered his hand with mine, sliding it slowly upward from my waist. I wanted more than anything to be touched, to feel him on me everywhere at once, to utterly abandon my senses and melt into him.

His touch lightened as he cupped my breast, and I could feel his fingers trembling. He'd been with many girls, I was sure--why would he be nervous with me? I pressed his hand gently, reassuring him, and he moaned against my neck. His fingertips began to brush maddeningly around the edges of my bra cup, spiraling closer and closer to the center, and when his thumb settled against the hard little peak, I bit my lip, holding back a cry of pleasure.

My leg slid up, nestling between his as if it had a mind of its own, and for the first time I felt the heat of his excitement against my thigh. Suddenly he pulled back from me, rolling onto his back and pulling me against him. I was lost in the moment, and followed his lead eagerly, ready for whatever he wanted to do. But he lay still, eyes closed, holding me tight as he tried to slow his breathing.

"Gen, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, but I can't do this," he panted.

A thread of fear wound through my mind. "Did I do something wrong?" I asked hesitantly.

He squeezed me tightly and pressed his cheek against the top of my head. "Oh, God, no!"

"Then why--" I stammered, confused and uncertain.

He laid one finger across my lips to silence me.

"Gen, listen. I told you before that there are girls who don't want any more from a guy than to be able to say they fucked him. They're a dime a dozen, and no guy gives a damn about them. But I'm going to tell you something I've never said to a girl before, because it would sound like a pickup line. You're something special, something rare. And I want you to promise me that you won't ever forget that."

"There's nothing special about me," I said, embarrassed. "You don't have to say that."

"Don't you get it? So much about you is different. You're smart but you're not a snob. You want to do something big with your life, but not for the money. And you've given your heart to a guy without having to give away your body. That's pretty goddamned amazing to me."

"It kind of makes me feel pathetic, to tell you the truth."

His face flashed for just a moment, and I could tell it bothered him for me to say that.

"Do you think for one moment that I have anything but respect for you? You're ashamed of it, but the fact that you're a virgin doesn't make you naive. It means that you know your own worth, that you aren't willing to let some asshole use you for fun and throw you to the side, because you deserve better than that. It makes me want to be a better man, so maybe I'd be worthy of you someday."

I didn't know what to say. It felt unreal, that he would see me that way. The fear of him was gone, and in its place there was a trust I couldn't remember having with anyone before.
I touched his face, brushing back the hair from his forehead. "I hope you're the one I'm with when it finally happens. I can't imagine anything more unforgettable."

"Me too," he whispered. "Me too."