“Why would you ever need a nutjob like me?” I asked.

  Farid smiled. “You see yourself so poorly,” he said. “I can see the potential in you. I’m a caretaker. I like to take care of people, and I want to take care of you. There’s no logic, no rhyme or reason that’ll make sense to someone trying to think things through. I just want you, and all that entails. That’s all.”

  “I know you think you’re broken,” Farid added. “I’m not sure I agree with that term, but even if I did, I can see the kind of person you are, beyond your insecurities and anxieties, when you put on your makeup and you smile at me with all the confidence in the world. I can see your kindness in the little ways you think about the people you care about, like the fact that you’re always worried about what Theo’s eating or when you make sure you still stop by at the office to lighten the load on Dan and your team. I can see the real you, and I want you to know that I’ll be here while you find your way back to feeling that way.”

  I felt that familiar warmth hit me again like it had never left. The darkness inside me sputtered, trying to grab on, but for the first time ever, I actually felt like I had some strength left inside me to push it aside. It was still there—I knew it would always be—but seeing Farid look at me, and hearing his words, and knowing how quiet and steadfast and honest he was, gave me the strength to keep it away even for just this one, indescribable instant.

  “I would tell you to stop constantly being in your head, Noah, but I know you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t think with your heart and wore it on your sleeve,” Farid said. He slowly raised a hand to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “But I like that. I like you, Noah, with all your so-called brokenness and feelings and thoughts.”

  Farid continued, but his expression was a little sterner than earlier. “Don’t take it to mean that these things are okay with me, because I think even you know that you need to find different ways to express those things. Preferably ways that don’t end up hurting you..”

  As I gazed—stared, really—into Farid’s eyes, the only thought that came into my head was that this time, I knew it was for real.

  This was real.

  Farid was telling me he accepted me as I was but wanted me to be better—not for him, but for me.

  Farid was true. He was real. He wanted to be here.

  And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to believe him.

  Farid slowly placed a hand under my chin, drawing my gaze upward until our lips were mere inches from each other. His other arm wrapped tautly around my rear.

  “If you can’t trust in my words,” Farid said, pulling me in until our bodies were pressed into each other, “then maybe you’ll trust in my actions.”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  “Maybe.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I didn’t know the last time I felt like this.

  My heart was aflutter. I was fighting the urge to both bite my lower lip and smile. One arm covered my face, and I began to sweat.

  “A-ah!”

  I couldn’t help the whimpers and moans coming out of my lips, and it was a good thing that I had the foresight to play music to cover up the sounds we were making.

  My thighs were spread to each side, and Farid loomed over me. His lips moved over my naked body, from the middle of my chest, down to my navel, going lower, and lower, and lower…

  And all I could do was bite my lower lip to try not to moan too loud, aware that Theo was in the other room.

  The sensation of his stubble and smooth lips sliding up my burgeoning erection brought my cock to full attention. His lips wrapped around the tip and sucked it gently.

  I moaned. My thighs tensed. Hell, everything in my lower body tensed.

  Maybe it was because I hadn’t had sex since the incident, or maybe it was Farid—it was definitely Farid—but everything he did felt many, many times more pleasurable than it should have been.

  God. He had the patience of a saint, and it showed. I was writhing underneath his touch, but he kept going at this snail’s pace when I just wanted more. It was like sensuous torture, because he could give me what I wanted but he kept taking it away from me. He was strong enough to brace me against the bed, not letting me thrust upward too much. Farid was perfectly happy setting the pace.

  It took forever for him to finally pull free from my cock, look into my eyes and speak. “Are you ready?”

  “I’ve been ready this entire time,” I whined.

  Farid chuckled. He moved up from his position to settle right above me. In that moment, I felt daintier than I ever had before. He was a massive guy, and I was a bit on the small side.

  “You should wear a condom,” I said softly, looking at him. “I mean, I want to feel you, like, naturally, you know? But…”

  “But you care about my health,” Farid filled in.

  I nodded.

  He smirked. “I’m not even worried about that right now, but your concern is appreciated.”

  I turned toward the drawer in my bedside table and pulled out a condom foil packet and my favorite brand of lube—in a rather large bottle. I tossed both of them over to Farid.

  He smirked. “Prepared, I see.”

  “Well, you know I’m a bit loose with my affections…”

  “I’d rather you didn’t talk about my boyfriend that way,” Farid said after a moment. “But I appreciate that you have experience, Noah.”

  Boyfriend.

  The thought still freaked me out a little bit, but much less so than earlier.

  Maybe it was because I was slowly beginning to trust Farid. The walls that I had been building were slowly being pulled down, brick by brick.

  Maybe it was because I couldn’t hear that dark, inner voice that constantly told me I wasn’t good enough.

  Or maybe I was simply preoccupied, watching Farid put the condom on his cock and spread lube all over his erection and into my rear. One finger, then two fingers—and he started to push them in and out, in little rhythmic thrusts.

  He pressed against this little spot inside me that made my toes curl. And when he found it, a cheeky grin spread over Farid’s face.

  Slowly, though, I began to turn, assuming he wanted to take me from behind. It was a reflex, really, to feeling those fingers press up into my entrance.

  “What are you doing?” Farid asked.

  “I’m turning around so you can fuck me?” I said, a little bemused.

  “I want to see your eyes when I take you,” Farid said. “Lie on your back, Noah.”

  I looked up at him. “I’ve never been fucked like that.”

  “Tonight, I’m not going to fuck you, Noah. I’m not a trick in a bathroom stall,” Farid replied. “I want to make love to you. I want you to know I’m doing this with intention. I want you to know I’m here, wanting you to trust me more and more with each day.”

  My heart skipped a beat, but my cheeks flushed. “You’re a poet with your words, aren’t you?”

  Farid grinned. “I can be a cunning linguist when I want to be. I’ve had many a man and woman admit as much.”

  I would have laughed, but the moment he said the joke, I gasped. I felt the tip of his cock press into my rear.

  Slowly, he pushed his cock inside me.

  I felt a lot fuller than I did before…but maybe that was just Farid’s size.

  Maybe it was the way he was looking at me, judging from my expression whether to move or to keep still. When I gasped, he made sure to roll his hips. And when I clung to him tighter, placing both of my hands on his shoulders, he could only give me a lopsided smirk.

  But finally, when he had the entirety of his cock nestled inside me and I felt the springy hairs that wrapped around his manhood press up against my taint, there was the tiniest sense of accomplishment there.

  “Can I start moving?” Farid asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  Farid was bucking his hips in even, but forceful strokes. The bedsprings squeaked as he pulled my hips back toward him forcefully, and pushed my body down against the mattress. I could feel only about an inch or two of his cock being pulled out before it slammed back in, just enough to constantly rub that little part of me that built a warmth and a jolt of excitement that coursed through my body.

  Each thrust pushed me down into the bed, my own erection pressed against Farid’s warm body. The feeling of soft, smooth cloth was exquisite against my skin. My nerves were singing, and my lips were parted with every gasp as Farid’s strong hands caressed my inner thighs, slowly rubbing up and down, before one of his hands wrapped around my cock and gently started to tug on it.

  Fuck. This felt really good.

  And when I opened my eyes, Farid was looking down at me. I could see the light behind him, giving his tan skin a nice shimmer. He slammed into me over and over, and the strokes of his hands were even with the thrusts of his hips. Each time those large, warm hands slid up and down, I felt a zing of pleasure course through my hips, centered at the base of my cock.

  I moaned and bucked my hips subconsciously.

  Farid grunted. “Every time I touch your cock, you clench around me. It’s amazing.”

  I couldn’t help but grin at Farid, who continued to look down at me.

  As always, the intensity of his gaze got to me. I had to keep looking away every so often, but I couldn’t help but look at him once more. He took up the entirety of my view. Sweat began to make his neck and body shine and the hair on his body curled slightly from it—I noticed every little nuance, even the way his muscles flexed.

  Most of all, I noticed how thick his cock was, because every time he thrust forward, he was rubbing at that little part of me that made little zings move through all the nerves in my pelvis and lower body. And true, he was very thick, and had an above average-sized cock. I’d seen and felt bigger, but his was just perfect.

  “Noah. Look at me.”

  I looked up at him, and he was looking down at me. He smiled, and leaned down, and pressed a kiss over my lips.

  Warmth spread through my body like wildfire.

  He thrust into me over and over, angling himself perfectly to slide over that spot. I gasped, and mewled, and moaned, and he stifled me with a kiss every so often, but the thing that I appreciated most was when he entwined his fingers with mine while his other hand continued to pump my cock. This time, the entwining of our fingers meant something deep, and meaningful—and not just the touch of some random stranger from a club.

  It didn’t take long at all for me to start panting. From the teasing I got earlier to the fact that I’d been starved for sexual contact for a while, I could feel it building. There was tension that collected through my body, making me squeeze and clench my rear.

  Of course, that set off a bit of a chain reaction, because soon Farid’s thrusts were growing erratic and rough.

  I couldn’t help it, though. The pleasure spilled over. My mind went blank for the briefest moment, and spurt after spurt of seed coated the inside of Farid’s fist. He was making such a mess, too, because he continued to pump his hand up and down. I tried to stop him by pushing my pelvis upward, to keep his fist from moving too much, but my overly-sensitive cock was still being toyed and played with.

  Honestly? I wasn’t too mad at it. The sensations were just a little too much.

  Farid’s hips snapped forward over and over, and soon he was growling like some kind of predator. When he bit down against the crook of my neck, I felt his erection actually grow a bit bigger, twitching over and over as he came. And when he finally pulled off me, I saw just how much he’d filled that condom.

  “Wow,” I said, in between big gasps of breath.

  “Now do you believe me?” Farid asked softly, still panting, trying to catch his breath. “That I actually want to be here with you?”

  I smiled. “Maybe a little bit more than earlier.”

  Farid grinned. Pulling off the condom, he tied it up and threw it into the nearby trashcan. He wrapped his arms around my body, drawing me in. Grabbing some of the tissues in the box on top of my bedside drawer, he cleaned his hand, his own cock, and then took the time to wipe my navel down, too. Afterward, he curled his arms around me, and drew me into a hug. “One day, you’ll believe me wholeheartedly. All I ask is to be given the chance.”

  I leaned against him and curled into his warmth. Even though he was sweaty, I didn’t mind. “I know you’re for real.”

  Farid chuckled. “I am. Did you think I was imaginary?”

  Maybe a little bit.

  Only time would tell if this was going to be permanent.

  But for some reason, I didn’t mind putting in the time to make sure.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “How are you feeling, Noah?”

  Farid’s hand was wrapped around mine, our fingers entwined. I snapped out of my reverie to look up at Farid, who sat in front of me.

  Farid, with the patience of a predator and the observation skills of a hawk.

  Farid, who had promised he would be stable, and that he would stay.

  Farid, who was now my official boyfriend for about three months, though we had been dating for six months now.

  The idea that I would never know if this was going to last didn’t terrify me. It was par for the course for any relationship, but I no longer thought about how the other shoe was going to drop. Farid had been a constant, steady presence through my life since the incident, and we’d spent nearly every day together since then.

  Even Dan had to comment on it. “You’re both too sweet on one another!”

  It was an exclamation that Theo shared, but he was happy whenever Farid and I had a date night, because Farid would purposely buy too much food so that there would be leftovers for Theo. It was just one of the few ways Farid was being considerate to the people in my life.

  Farid was constantly reminding me of his feelings for me.

  And I was growing to trust it more and more.

  Farid and his family or their company had never been too involved in the workings of our start-up, but now Farid was spending every waking moment in our offices. Hell, he even had plans to rent his own office space in our building so that he could stay closer to me.

  I told him it would make me happy, on a personal level, but never to do anything just for me.

  “Bold of you to assume that this move would just be for you,” he replied when I spoke to him about it. “This city is a nice place to put down some roots, so that it’d be easier for people to contact me and make meetings, is all.”

  I dropped it. Farid was a man who knew what he wanted and had the money to make it happen, anyway. I didn’t need to throw myself into his decision-making.

  “Noah?”

  I turned to look at Farid—my boyfriend—and I smiled. He looked handsome tonight, in one of his thousand-dollar suits and perfectly groomed beard. The watch he wore was some kind of expensive Swiss quartz. All in all, he looked just like the affluent investor he really was, complete with the posh accent that made everyone pay attention almost too quickly.

  “Huh? Oh, I’m sorry,” I replied. “I’m good. I was just thinking about a couple of things.”

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Farid asked.

  I shook my head and smiled. “It’s nothing, really,” I started to say. “I was thinking about how lucky I am and how odd it is that I’m even in this position right now. A couple of months into a new relationship, but…I’m not scared. I’m not anxious. I actually feel secure.”

  The funny thing was, every so often, I could still feel that same void that constantly poked its ugly head. I still heard some of the criticizing words and had the same feelings of inadequacy that hit me every so often. Whenever I saw someone stare at me, especially when I held Farid’s hand when we were together, I still felt highly self-conscious. I still felt like I wasn’t good enough for Farid. Maybe that wouldn’t really ever go away.

  I put on my makeup like battle armor, but I also knew it had the effect of drawing attention to me. The eye makeup I put on, which gave me that flamboyant Captain Hook aesthetic I liked, was something that Farid quite liked. Sometimes, during sex, he would look at me and call me beautiful.

  I told him to stop smudging my makeup. He thought that was funny, calling back to the first time that we kissed.

  But still, the onslaught of emotions that overcame me weren’t always kind or positive. I learned to be more communicative to Farid when I was in a particularly low mood, and he learned how to deal with me during those off days. I began seeing a therapist regularly, and I learned to depend on Farid a little more.

  Sometimes, I bring my previous boyfriend up from time to time. He knows it’s because in some small way, I still loved him—but to me, Farid was my future, and I talked about the past because it helped me make sense of the present. My therapist told me that I was going through something extraordinarily difficult. She said I was a survivor, and praised me for getting this far on my own, and that I wasn’t weak for seeking out help.

  I didn’t quite believe her.

  Something tells me it won’t be long before she prescribes some kind of medication for me, but the fact that I haven’t had an episode in a while, even without medication, has been a good thing.

  And through it all, Farid was a constant, stabilizing presence. When I felt like I would spiral out of control, he could center me with a single sentence. I knew, always, to trust him—he would never spare a word for a lie. The fact that he spoke so little kind of helped that effect, too. He spoke the most with me, of course.

  “I’m glad,” Farid said, nodding. “I’m your boyfriend. I should be making you feel more secure.”

  “You’d be surprised how few people actually think that,” I replied to him, to which Farid shook his head.

  “I’m not like other people.”

  “I know,” I agreed. I believed it, too. If anything, that surprised me the most.

  He smiled back at me.

  A voice piped up from beside us. “Your order, sirs.”

 

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