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“You’re so beautiful.” He traces his lips up my body, capturing my nipple and sucking before moving to my neck, chin, lips. The hard length of his cock strokes through my folds, each divine movement eliciting shockwaves of arousal. Reaching between our bodies, I take his thick cock in my hand, making him hiss. Rubbing the pad of my thumb through the beads of precum before lining him where I need him, I use my legs to force his ass forward. Inch by delectable inch enters me, stretching me open, filling me up. Consumed with need, he thrusts hard, rough. “Fuck…more…” I cry out, meeting each thrust with an uplift of my own. We’re lost to the rhythm, hypnotized by the sensation coursing through us both, every kiss driving out all the fear and doubt. I’m floating at the height of bliss and I never want to come down.I wake to my cell phone chirping, my aunt calling for the thousandth time. I mute the ringing, knowing I’ll have to call her later or she’ll show up here.
Every part of me aches in ways I’ve never felt before. I wasn’t a virgin, but sex with Jack was mind-altering and body-exhausting in the most delicious of ways. “You smell so good.” He hums against my skin, kissing a path down to my navel. I’m sure I smell of sweat and sex, but I won’t stop him. “What do you want to do today?” he asks, moaning while kissing my inner thigh. This. I want to do this all day, every damn day.
“I need to go to the store, then I have a shift at Marley’s,” I groan, my breath hitching when his lips kiss over my mound.
“Really?” he teases, swiping his tongue, making my body shiver from his touch on my sensitive clit. “Can you not take a day off?” Swipe.
“He’ll dock my pay,” I moan, pulling the pillow over my face and biting down.
“I’ll give you money.” My pleasure turns to laughter, and then I’m writhing in rapture.Twenty-FiveThe air is thick today. Gray storm clouds loom above, threatening. I read a text from Charlotte letting me know she’s at work and survived the night with a knife emoji, asking, DID YOU?
I tease her back with a BARELY. Smiling, I slide my phone back into my pocket. Rain tap dances over the windshield as we pull into the supermarket parking lot. Taking a breath, I smile over at Jack. “I won’t be long.”
“You sure you don’t want me to come in with you?” A line appears on his forehead.
“No. Stay here and keep dry.” Leaning over, I kiss his lips, knowing we’re not going to be able to stay in this bubble long. People need to know Portland’s Lost Boy is alive and here. My aunt deserves to know. I need to call her.
Rain hammers down as I open the door. I didn’t bring a coat, so I make a dash for the doors, managing to only get half-soaked.
Shaking the water from my hair like a stray dog, I grab a basket and head straight for the cake aisle. There’s a drip coming through the roof, causing a puddle to form on the floor next to my feet.
Am I carrying a rain cloud above my head, being mocked by life? I won’t let the doom ruin the high I feel from the night I spent with Jack. Flashes of this morning sing like a lullaby in my head, making me glow from within. I grasp a single cupcake and head to the baking aisle.
Why do they only sell candles in packs of ten? I want one fucking candle. One!
Snatching the packet of ten multicolored candles from the shelf, I drop it into my basket and make my way to the checkout. A teenage boy grins at me from behind the counter like I’m the first female he’s been in contact with. His scrawny figure stands taller than my five-foot-seven frame, his small, round eyes dipping to my chest. I follow his gaze to see the rain has made my shirt almost see-through, showing my black bra beneath.
Placing the single cupcake and pack of candles on the counter, I try to ignore the toothy grin plastered on his lips as he looks down at me. “Just these?” he asks with a raised brow. If it weren’t, why would I come to the checkout? I don’t say that. Instead, I nod.
“Your birthday?” he asks with a smirk. It’s a pity smirk that makes me want to poke his eye out with the damn candle, like I’m celebrating myself alone.
“No.”
“Boyfriend’s?”
I stare at him until he frowns, taking the damn hint. “Five dollars and thirty cents.”
I take out the exact money from the change in my wallet and drop it into his hand, almost retching when he curls his clammy palm, brushing mine. Snatching up my products, I leave without my receipt.
