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He groans against my mouth, holding me tighter.
"Harder," I breathe. I need more of him. I need all of him.
He moves harder, deeper. I close my eyes and rock my hips to meet him. I bite my lip. I turn my head, offering him my neck.
He runs his lips against my skin. Then it's his teeth. He bites me hard, like he's marking me, like he feels so good he can't help it.
I hug his shoulders. "Harder."
His grip around my hips tightens. He pins me to the wall and he fucks me. No illusions of making love. We're two broken people finding a way to feel good.
I close my eyes, soaking in every bit of pleasure and pain.
Almost. Almost. Almost. The knot inside me builds until I can't take it anymore.
An orgasm rushes through me. It's fast and intense. I have to scream to contain it.
His breath is strained. He grunts, lost in the sensation.
I'm almost there again.
I groan.
He slams my hips into the wall.
One more thrust and all that tension releases inside me. I gasp, clawing at his back, screaming his name over and over.
He holds me steady, rocking into me as I come. His breath gets heavier. His eyelids press together.
He pins me to the wall as he thrusts harder and harder. Then he's there. I can feel his cock pulsing inside me as he comes.
He holds me for a moment then unwraps my legs and sets my feet on the ground.
For a minute, everything is right. We kiss desperately, slowly, like we mean it. Then the kiss breaks and he steps back. We clean up and dress.
There's a shift in the mood. Neither one of us wants to talk.
I roll my suitcase to the door.
"You ready to go back to L.A.?" he asks.
I shake my head. "No. There's somewhere else I want to go."
"Where?"
"To visit Rosie."
* * *
The grass is dry. There's no danger of slipping in my canvas sneakers. I squeeze Miles's hand and make my way to my sister's grave. Just left of the center line, sandwiched between a beloved grandmother and another girl who died way too young.
My hands are empty. No flowers, no trinkets, nothing to offer her. It's silly. I know she isn't here, that her spirit is off in some other plane of existence. But I can almost feel her. She would've hated it here, so dull and drab and totally average.
I sit, cross-legged, on the ground, no concern for the grass stains that might form on my dress. Miles kneels behind me. He wraps his arms around me and leans in close.
"Do you want some time alone?" he asks.
I shake my head. "No, I like your company. Even when you're driving me out of my mind."
