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“That’s it, baby. Just do what feels good.”
A determined look is on her face as she slowly rises, then sinks back down. I can tell she’s overthinking things, nervous because this is her first time riding me.
Shoving the straps from her shoulders, I expose her perky breasts and shove one in my mouth. Her loud moan is music to my ears. My other hand is on her hips, helping to guide her.
The more turned on she gets, the more confident she becomes. Releasing her nipple with a pop, I smile at her. “That’s it, angel. Fuck, you ride my cock so well.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders as she bites her lip. The pink flush covering her face, the wide, awestruck eyes as she discovers how good this position feels, and her genuine smile make me fall harder than ever for her.
This girl is it for me. There is no one in this world who can compare to her.
When her pussy tightens around me, the familiar tingle travels up my spine. My balls curl against my body as she slams herself down on me.
“Chase. I’m gonna come.”
“So am I, angel.” I seal my mouth over hers as she cradles my head, her mouth as desperate as her hips. My self-control is snapping. “I love you, Kenz.”
“I love you, Chase.”
We fall over the edge together, clinging to one another as our orgasms leave us breathless and spent.
62
MACKENZIE
My eyes pop open, landing on the streaks and beads of water running down the glass. The steady staccato of the rain drumming on the roof and against the windowpanes fills my ears as despair caves my chest in. It’s going to be one of those days. It’s evident in the heaviness inside my body and the aching inside my chest.
I hate days like this.
Since captivity, I have days where I just lie in bed most of the day, staring at the ceiling. When I finally crawl out of bed, I’m either apathetic to everything, or I cry over the dumbest things. A week ago, I tried to pour a bowl of cereal and dropped the box, spilling it all over the kitchen floor. I cried for ten minutes about it.
My weird mood swings are a product of the trauma I endured in captivity. Chase has them, too, although he doesn’t cry over spilled milk—literally—like I do. But he does get quiet, moody, and withdrawn.
The positive is that we understand the other’s moods well, and most of the time, we just crawl into bed beside the other and hold one another. At least, that’s what we do when my parents are at work. When they are home, it involves sneaking around, especially when my mom is here. I’m frustrated she still hasn’t come around, but Chase is sympathetic, reminding me she was traumatized by our absence, fearing she might never see us again.
I know the reason for my mood swings. Today is Friday, December 2. Chase and I will be heading back to Emerson High School on Monday, December 5.
There’s a sour taste in my mouth and an ache in the back of my throat from the dread filling me. My mom insists it will provide Chase and me with some sense of normalcy. A distraction from the trauma and depression that regularly descends over us like black clouds during a severe thunderstorm.
But I’m nervous as hell. I consider myself a realist, and the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach and the worst-case scenarios warn me how difficult it’s going to be.
After the words Jamie and I spoke before she left my party, I no longer have any friends.
I walked back into the living room with Chase, feeling Jamie’s eyes boring into me. Chase noticed it, too, and when she approached me, a weary look in her eyes, Chase leaned down and whispered, “Go talk to her.”
Nodding, I let Jamie pull me down the hallway and out the back door to the patio, our breaths coming in white puffs as we shivered from the cold air.
The silence stretched between us, but since Jamie was the one to initiate this moment, I remained quiet, waiting her out.
Finally, she crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one hip. There was an attitude in her voice when she spoke. “I’m not sure what happened, but that was highly inappropriate of Chase.”
I blinked, unsure if I heard her correctly.He was defending me to Alex and Brady, who were out of line.
I gaped at her in stunned silence for several beats, wondering if she was joking. When I realized she wasn’t, defensiveness made my posture rigid, and I crossed my arms over my chest. Despite the chilly November air, my body felt hot as I glared at her. “Inappropriate of Chase? What about what Alex said that provoked Chase?”
Jamie snorted. “Chase overreacted. It wasn’t that bad.” She tossed her hair over one shoulder, her chin tilted, nose in the air. “I know you’ve been out of the loop, but things have changed since you’ve been gone. Brady is now the top runner on the team?—”
“Are you kidding me with this bullshit right now?” I stared at my best friend in disbelief, feeling as though I no longer knew who she was. “Jamie, in case it hasn’t sunk in, what Chase and I went through was really traumatic. Right now, Chase has far larger concerns than being the star track team member or his status on the popularity totem pole.”
