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News flash—she wouldn’t.
I need to purge my mind of all that is Rory, forget my heart has actually started to feel for her, and numb myself into oblivion. But is that what I really want?
All my life, I’ve filled my bed with countless women who meant nothing, who looked at me as a means to an end, a gorgeous face, a sculpted body to fulfill their dark desires. No one has ever actually looked at me and seen Alistair the person instead of the rich Dixen brother who has all his shit together. Really, I’m falling apart, and my brothers know it. I see the look in their eyes, the one they used to save for Mom and Dad when we were kids. It’s borderline loathing filled with pity, but even through that, I know they still care or they wouldn’t be here with me.
Pouring more shower gel onto my hand than necessary, I scrub my body hard. I wash my neck and chest, and scrub my abs, feeling over every dip on my body. It’s not enough. I need something… I need to feel anything other than this self-contempt. Abandoning my chest, I wash my dick, fisting myself and imagining Rory touching me with her hands, licking me with her mouth, and squeezing me with her cunt.
I’ve tasted her already, and her flavor still lingers on my tongue, even days later. Rory is a drug I wouldn’t mind becoming addicted to. I already crave her, but not just her body. I desire her mind too. I want to know about her, to be the man who makes that soulful woman smile. But how can I learn to love her when I hate myself so fucking much?
Can I abandon the drugs for something much more potent? Or am I too weak to ignore their call?
My thoughts wilt my dick, and I let it go. Slamming my fist against the shower wall, I rest my head against it and fight back the tears. I don’t think I’m strong enough to resist. It’s right there in my drawer. In sixty short seconds, I can go from feeling like I’m dying to living again.
Rory…
She’ll never want me. I’m a fool to believe otherwise. She’ll pick them, just like my parents picked their friends, just like everyone else in my life always has.
Fuck it.
With my body still covered in soap, I step out of the shower and rush to my drawer, sniffing a line up my nose. Regret niggles at me for only a moment, and then the high settles in and my body numbs. Eyes heavy, I move back into the shower and plop myself down, resting against the marble wall.
“So weak,” I mutter to myself, banging the back of my head against the wall. “So weak. So stupid. You don’t deserve her.”
My tears mix with the spray from the shower as I wallow in my bathroom.
Alone.
Unloved.
High as a motherfucker with only my depraved mind to keep me company.
Rory O’Brien…
I’d choose her over the drugs, if only she could choose me.
