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I find her gaze, her eyes swimming with tears. I chew on my lips before answering. “Losing you.”
“But you never did,” she answers hoarsely.
“One day I will.”
She lets out a frustrated sigh. “Says who?” Followed by an equally frustrated shrug of her shoulders.
“Saysme,” I snap back, jamming my index finger into my chest. “Don’t you get it?” I tell her, trying to ignore the tears now falling freely over her freckled cheeks. “Nothing this perfect will ever be meant for me.”
She falls silent for a long quiet beat as if thinking. “You know… I did end up finding something to believe in.” She pauses, wringing her hands together. “It’s you, Bastian,” she says. Her tone is hard, wiping the tears almost angrily off her face. “I believe inyou.”
Her words have the same effect as a hard blow in the gut and I nearly double over gasping for breath. Her words should feel soothing but instead, they wreak havoc and it only takes me a few seconds to ruin everything.
My laugh is dry. Cold. “You believe in me, Luce—a fucking junkie? That’s your big reveal? Think about what you’re saying next time,” I say with a scoff, reeking of self-hatred.
I know I’ve caught her off-guard when her eyebrows scrunch together. “A what?”
“A drug addict,” I say, slapping the crook of my left arm and regretting my knee-jerk reaction when Lucy’s gaze falls on the track marks still visible there.
A heavy silence appears uninvited, settling between us while we both don’t move, Lucy’s eyes still on my arm. Then, finally, she looks back up at me. I expect to find disgust, instead, I find acceptance.
I take a step back. She takes a step forward.
“I know what you’re doing, Bastian,” she mutters.
I shoot her a perplexed look, not sure if she means drugs or something else.
“My therapist calls it self-sabotage,” she says, her face resolute. Her tone is so matter-of-fact, so innocent, and sofuckingLucy, that I suddenly want to weep at her feet. “You’re trying to hurt my feelings so I leave you alone.” She stomps forward and passes me, heading for one of the stools around the kitchen table. She sits, crossing her arms again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I blink. Not able to process anything she just said. We both fall silent and after a few seconds, she shoots me a defiant look as if to saywell?
I stare at her, knowing she’s goading me, unwilling to leave me alone, despite my best efforts to push her away.
I’m suddenly desperate to touch her.
To remind myself that she’s real.
Alive.
I reach Lucy in three quick strides, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her up onto the island. There’s a flash of hesitancy in her eyes but she must see the consuming need in mine, because she blinks and my name leaves her lips, breathless, her arms linking around my neck. I lean into her open thighs, catching her bottom lip with my teeth. Kissing her feels the same as the first time. Like remembering something I should have never forgotten.
My hands are just as desperate as my thoughts, fumbling over the straps of her overalls.
“Get this shit off,” I say pointedly, half-crazed.
Her soft, effervescent giggle is like a balm to every wound I never knew still bled. She jumps down, and I barely let her do even that, aching to touch her as much as I possibly can. She unclasps the front and pulls them down, sliding the overalls over her hips. She’s about to take the t-shirt off but I don’t let her, the sight of her in it making my cock throb.
I practically throw her back on the island, far from gentle, and she takes it in stride, her legs circling my waist and pulling me close to her. She’s serious now, and I detect the same fraught need as my own in her blown-out pupils.
I slide my hands up her thighs and when I feel a soft cotton fabric under my touch, I twist it around my fingers and then rip her panties clean off. I swallow the gasp I knew she’d make, my thumb tracing up her cunt, finding her already wet and ready.
Perfect.Cause I can’t fucking wait.
“I need you, Luce,” I groan, my hands now on my jeans, urgently pushing them down, freeing my cock. “I fucking need you so badly,” I say, my voice cracking over every word. And, at this point, I don’t care what I’m saying or how I’m sounding, as long as I can feel her warmth around me.
Lucy’s hand finds my hard length, guiding me to her entrance, coating the tip with her wet desire as she slides my cock up and down her pussy. “Use me,” she whimpers.
Hearing those two words sends me barreling over the edge, thrusting deep and to the hilt. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Lucy moan so loud. Like a true addict, I’m still not satisfied. I pull up her shirt and suck her nipple into my mouth, laving my tongue over the hard peak while I fuck her hard on the countertop, needing her moans more than I need drugs in my veins.
