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But this isn’t the time, it’s definitely not the place, and I really need to figure my shit out, so I make a conscious decision to break the spell.
“Cole?”
“Uh huh,” he nods, barely responding.
“I’m not going to fuck you.”
“I know,” he whispers as he leans close to me. So close his lips nearly graze my earlobe. “Because I’m going to fuck you.”
Chapter twenty-three
Riot
After causing a giant scene in Blaize’s torture room at The Underground, I walked out of there in a daze. I made it back to my car, cut on the engine, and I just started driving. There was no destination in mind. Just my car, music, and the open road. I drove all day, ended up in a whole other city, driving down the coastline, and before I knew it the sun was beginning to set.
It was fitting, driving off into the sunset; darkness seeping into the world around me while simultaneously seeping into my soul, transforming me.
Bits and pieces of the drive are missing from my memory. I’m not even sure where I’m at right now, but I guess that’s what GPS is for, finding my way back home. I’m not sure if I can even go back right now though. I’m overrun with so many emotions, it’s like the floodgates opened today when I looked at one of the men responsible for almost taking Zeke away from me. Everything I’ve bottled up for my entire life knocked me flat on my ass, and I don’t know how to begin sorting through it all.
A turn-off appears just ahead, so I pull over onto the side of the road and into the small deserted parking area. It’s the dead of winter, so the beach is abandoned. Putting the car in park, I clamber out and shut the door behind me. Trudging through the sand, I make my way up the small hill, and down onto the shoreline. Close enough to feel the freezing mist as it rolls off the ocean, but far enough that the tide never touches my sneakers.
Sitting down in the sand, I reach inside of my jacket, unzip the small pocket and retrieve the pre-rolled joint and lighter from inside. Pressing the thin paper of the joint between my lips, I light the opposite end and inhale. Holding the breath in like a lifeline, I allow the weed to calm all of the noise inside of my head. When I exhale, I focus my gaze on the last bits of sunlight shimmering across the frigid ocean. The final remnants of pink and purple darkening into a deep blue, nearly midnight sky.
I’m all alone, no one in sight for as far as I can see, so I let my mind wander. I reflect on how I even got here. On how all I ever wanted to do was get out of this life, but now I’m in so deep that it’s changing the fabric of my soul.
Nico’s lips are soft and plush against mine, and it stirs something in me that I’ve never felt before. It knocks down all my walls, and internally, I’m spiraling.
I keep people at arms length, because my family is just so damn fucked up. Not that everyone around here isn’t fucked up. Everyone in the rows of Havok Hills has damage and demons. The thing is, mine are prominently on display, so I keep to myself because hearing the truth eats away at my soul.
Everyone knows my pops is locked up again, and everyone also knows that my mom doesn’t just strip at Afterlife. Deep down, I’ve always known it too, but I’d been able to bury my head in the sand. Except a few months ago, I overheard a kid at school talking about how my mom blew his dad for $30 in the back of the club. Of course my mom is the social pariah here, not the pervert who needed to pay a stripper to get his fucking rocks off.
With my fucked up life, it’s just easier being a loner. Well, except for Colt. That asshole is my best friend. He’s the one who brought me into the life, helping me get a job slinging dope for Underwood so I could keep the bills paid around here. Make sure mom and I don’t starve. Because let’s face it, her money is her money. It feeds her addiction. No more, no less.
But Nico blew into Havok Hills, a force to be reckoned with. All piercings, and black eyeliner, toting his old guitar, with his little emo boy fuck-me eyes; and he wormed his way into my life before I even knew what was happening. Nico was chasing me, and instead of running, I let him in. When mom was off at work, he’d come over and hang out, watch movies, hold hands, and it was all downhill from there.
These moments with Nico make me feel like maybe there’s more for me than all of this. This life. But right now, we’ve moved from hand holding to kissing, and as Nico’s tongue sweeps the inside of my mouth, everything in the world stops. My dick is hard in my pants, my heart is racing so fast, it just might leap from my chest.
Will Nico catch it if it does?
His hands cup my cheeks and he climbs into my lap, grinding down on me as our lips collide. He takes everything from me. The pain, the anger, the sadness. He takes it all and fills me with this warmth, and light, and it feels so good.
“Riot,” he whispers against my lips.
“N-Nico,” I nip at his bottom lip between heavy pants, trying to catch my breath.
My head is a mess. I’ve never kissed anyone like this, like the space where I begin and he ends has become completely non-existent. With desperation. Need. I need Nico, I need more of him, and like he’s reading my mind, his hands roam down my back slowly until they hit my hips. Gripping me hard, he rolls to the side, pulling me down on top of him. Blanketing his body with my own.
Our lips and tongues tangle with so much desperation, it’s palpable. I cage his head with my forearms, leaning over him, and before I know it, I’m chasing a high as I dry hump the shit out of him. His dick is rubbing against mine through our jeans, and it’s driving me insane. I want to know what it feels like to touch him. I want to know what it feels like for him to touch me.
A whimper falls from my lips, because I’m on the edge right now. I’m trying not to be fucking weird, but I’ve never done anything like this and I feel like I could nut in my pants right now just from the friction between us.
Breaking our kiss, I move my lips across his cheek, down the column of his neck, licking and nipping until I reach the crook of his neck.
“Nico,” I groan.
“Riot,” my name falls from his lips breathlessly as he slides his hands up my chest, bunching my shirt up beneath my chin.
His fingers trace the curves of my barely defined abs, and when his fingertips reach the waist of my pants, and he slips them between my skin and the denim, I gasp. My dick twitches in my pants and pre-cum leaks into my boxers.
