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“A local diabetic store. Much less suspicious than a clinic.” Unwrapping one syringe, he looks up at me. “And that’s my go-to claim if I ever get questioned by the po-po here. I’m diabetic. So don’t fear, baby.” He grins.
I huff a laugh, but it’s forced, my undivided attention on Jesse’s hands as he sticks the needle into the top of the vial. My skin is already tingling in anticipation. My hands sweaty, and my jaw clenched as tight as the muscles of my stomach.
Last time.
“You need a tie off?” he asks. “Since it’s been a minute, I might be able to find a vein no problem…but if you’d rather not chance the nasty bubble—”
“Uh, yeah,” I say absently. I reach over to the driver’s seat and grab my tote. I find a hair band and wrap it around my forearm, just above my elbow. “It’s too dark to see.”
Jesse licks his lips and holds my arm out between us. He flicks the center of my arm a couple of times, waits for a vein to appear. “They look good. Guess it was smart to lay off for a while. I can find one no problem.”
I nod. Anyone else, I’d have called bullshit. But for this one thing, I trust Jesse completely. He wouldn’t stick me if he couldn’t find a vein. He knows the pain I suffered the one time I missed, and a bubble the size of a small almond popped up on my hand. It was so fucking painful I actually cried. It didn’t go away for weeks.
But that fear is not enough to keep me from IV’ing in the dark in a parked tin can of a car on top of one of my best friends. The rush is just too great a temptation. And like I promised myself—this is the very last time.
I feel a quick pinch, and I watch as he inserts the needle deeper, the tube of saline and coke turning pink as some of my blood swirls into the mix. Pale pink. It’s a beautiful color. My favorite. And as the first effects of the drug hit my system, my head falls back. It’s warm. Tingling at first. Then the burn hits. But it’s such a sweet burn. I can feel it traveling through me, instantly hitting my heart. Which beats wildly.
“Wow,” I say. “This isn’t cut much, huh?” I close my eyes and envision the firing synapses exploding across my lids like white-hot livewires thrashing my brain. Tracers swim across my blacked-out vision. My head lightens, no gravity. Then—
Perfectly…
Euphorically…
Numb.
I hear Jesse’s deep laugh. “It’s pretty damn pure.” He grunts, and I know he’s taking his own hit.
I force my head forward and open my eyes. “What are you doing, Jess?”
He doesn’t have to tie off. His veins—though having been worked over pretty hard—always show. I guess that’s the perk of being a guy and having muscles.
“I doubt I have anything to worry about with you,” he says, using the same syringe he just used on me. “Do I?” Removing the needle from his arm, he flicks his gaze up, his dark eyes almost black as his pupils dilate.
I’m too transfixed in the moment to answer. And I’m not even worried about what his question was. It’s lost, floating out and then above my head, off into the sea of stars above us.
“Damn…” He sighs. “I told you. It’s always better with you, Mel.”
My insides flutter. Whether from his compliment or the high taking over my whole body, I’m not sure. But I take it all in, reveling in the weightlessness, the numbness, which I can only obtain in these brief moments.
“You better stop that,” Jesse warns.
“What?” I say, continuing to run my fingers through my hair. I hadn’t noticed I’d been doing it.
“Wriggling on top of me like that.” He lays both hands on either side of my thighs, and warmth spreads over my skin, seeping right through my flesh. Right into my core. “You know how fucking horny I get.”
My hand drops from my hair and I laugh. It’s true. The first time we ever shot blow together, we ended up fucking. But that was back when he was just a hangaround to the MC. I’ve learned since to occupy him with other things…but right now, this close to him and feeling just how turned on he’s getting—the bulge beneath me getting hard and pressing against my clit—it’s kind of difficult to think of anything else.
He groans, long and deep. His fingers splay over my thighs, the tips of them just inching under my jean skirt. “Ya know,” he says, and I watch as his hooded gaze travels over my body and up to my eyes. “This being your last time…you should really go out with a bang.” He bucks his hips.
A laugh slips from my mouth. “You would say something so crass, you—” But my comeback is clipped short as I feel his hands roaming farther up, along my inner thighs. “Jesse…” I try to get the words to form, but they’re lodged in my throat. Stuck there with my fading willpower.
He moves beneath me, rearing his crotch. His rough mechanic’s palms press down on my legs, grinding me against him. “You feel so damn good,” he whispers, and my freakin’ nether regions explode with heat. The tips of his fingers graze my center, just caressing atop my underwear, and an ache begins to throb deep inside.
My eyes close as I bear down harder on him, eliciting a guttural noise from his throat. His groan reverberates through every nerve in my body, simultaneously firing off waves of heat and shivers.
My hands seek his chest, and soon they’re under his tank and wandering over his hard abs. I stop cold. “We shouldn’t do this. You know we shouldn’t.”
His fingers push my underwear aside, and as he runs one tip down my seam, finding my clit, I suck in a sharp breath. Everything feels heightened and on edge—senses at their peak of pleasure.
