“Oh, my Gaaaaawd!” she whimpered in pleasure.
“What healing?” I finally questioned, tightening my hold on her as I kept pounding into her, each stroke harder and more personal than the last.
“This good, healing dick… the kind that makes you forget your problems and morals.”
A rough laugh left me.
“For real. You… you don’t know how bad I needed this. Shiiiiiiiiit! I needed something strong enough to drown out everything else,” she admitted, the words slipping out softer than anything she had said all night.
There it was.
Beneath the liquor, the jokes, and all that bold confidence, shawty had been trying to forget something. I didn’t know what happened before she found me, but whatever it was had followed her into that bathroom.
Shit, for half a second, I almost felt bad, like maybe I was taking advantage of the fact that she was running from something. Then I quickly remembered…
So was I.
We were both trying to escape something that night. She just happened to choose me, and I chose not to ask questions. And with the way that pussy had me locked in, pulling out wasn’t exactly high on my list of available decisions.
“I need this shit every damn day… morning, noon, and night,” she continued between broken breaths. “Prescribe it to me like medication.”
I chuckled. “See, that kind of talk is how shit gets dangerous. One minute we fucking in a bathroom, and the next thing you know, we waking up in Vegas married with matching wedding-band tattoos and no memory of who called the preacher.”
No cap.
She had the type of pussy that made niggas lose good sense and start making permanent decision.
She chuckled, tightening her arms around my neck.
“How flattering. But you don’t look like the marrying type, and I didn’t come here in search of a husband. Besides, we’re a little too far from Vegas.” Her lips brushed mine. “Keep the ring. I just wanna wake up remembering exactly why sayingyesto you was the best bad decision I made all night.”
“Say less.”
I drove back into her in one hard motion, burying myself completely as loud moans and curses tore from both of us.
“Yeah… you definitely gon’ remember this shit.”
Tomorrow, when the liquor wears off, her pussy is sore, and common-sense returns, she’ll have nothing but memory and judgment to keep her company. Whether she laughs at her own recklessness or regrets every second of it with her face buried in a pillow was between her and her conscience.
I never got her name and somehow that made the memory better. Some things were perfect just as they were—raw, nasty, and completely anonymous.
Chapter one
Kynsleigh Landry
One Year Later
Ikissed my son’s chubby cheek before carefully removing him from the snug confines of the car seat. He wiggled and squirmed, his eyes wide with curiosity like the world was brand new every time he blinked. At just three months old, he was already tugging at every inch of my soul, pulling me into a whirlwind of love I never knew existed.
His name was Mysun. I couldn’t counthowmany times somebody had asked what my baby’s name was, and when I answered, “Mysun,” they stared at me like I was being smart.
I know he’s your son. I asked what his name is.
Then I’d have to explain that it was his actual name and break it down letter by letter for the slow ones.
I wanted something unique… something that belonged to him and wouldn’t have three other children turning around when I called for him at the playground. Besides, the name fit. He wasmyson, but he was also mysunshine.
The brightest part of my life, even during the days when everything else around me felt dark.
