Текст книги "Addicted for Now"

Автор книги: Becca Ritchie

Соавторы: Krista Ritchie
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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

I usually tried to skip when he skipped. But one abnormal day, I actually slept at my own house, and he didn’t tell me he was going to be late.

I tried to focus on the task at hand. Get your books. Go to class. Done. I tugged my World History book from the locker and the hardback spine tilted the mirror on the inside door.

And then I felt two hands on my waist.

I jumped: feet and heart. Then I spun around and Lo’s eyes were wide.

“Hey girlfriend,” he emphasized, seeing as how we were in our pretend relationship.

I wanted to smile, but I could barely catch my breath.

His face fell in a wave of concern, and he put his hands on my cheeks. “Heyheyhey,” he said quickly. “Take a breath, Lil.”

Tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t realize Aaron had unraveled me until that point. Game. Set. Match, I thought. He won.

But I had forgotten who my “fake” boyfriend was.

“Lil, what’s wrong?” His voice was heavy and serious.

I buried my head into his shirt and he held me there for a very long moment. We skipped class so I could tell him the truth, and it poured out of me like a flood.

“I’m going to fix this,” Lo said.

I believed it too. He called Aaron and threatened his college career if he didn’t stop harassing me. With the Hale name, Lo had plenty of contacts and one phone call from him or his father, and Aaron’s collegiate career would be over.

Aaron called his bluff. And then Lo called the college.

So Aaron Wells was reduced to his safety school, losing out the lacrosse stardom.

He stopped following me after that…

Well, until the Fizzle party pretty recently (where he tried to scare me again). And not soon after, we received those texts. Maybe only a couple months separating the two events.

Connor’s normal placid expression has been slightly overtaken by a wrinkled forehead and the hand that covers his mouth. I never thought I could shock Connor Cobalt—or that he’d let me see his surprise.

“In defense,” Lo says, “Aaron Wells and I have hated each other since ninth grade. That’s like an era of hate. None of the others are like that.”

“We can only hope,” Connor says.

“And our dad helped you tear up this kid’s future?” Ryke asks.

“What can I say,” Lo says with a bitter smile, “it’s how we bonded.”

{ 15 }
LOREN HALE

I couldn’t talk about Mason. Neither could Lily. I think that one was too fresh for us. I mentioned what happened in brief to Ryke over the phone one day—about the parking deck and a little bit about the past—so I told him to just fill in Connor and that was that.

My head weighs a fucking ton and I could use a glass of whiskey. Hell, I’d settle for a beer at this point.

But we drive right on back to Princeton afterwards. A couple times, I pull over at a gas station, telling Lily I have to pee. I avoid grabbing any six-packs in the foggy glass fridges, but the second time I park the car, Lily catches on and follows me into the convenience store. She finds me staring questionably at a case of Samuel Adams. Lily talks me down for a good ten minutes, telling me that beer tastes disgusting, that breaking my sobriety is not worth the small, insignificant buzz. She’s right, but I just want to forget everything for one extended moment.

I want all of the memories to shut down so that I can sleep. But everything I did—every mistake, every fucked up word that spilled from my lips—replays on repeat. And I can’t take it back. But I do have the power to drown it all out.

We drive again. Towards home. And I forget about the booze. I try to focus on things that I can do that won’t involve alcohol. “Maybe I should call Aaron,” I say to Lily. My hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Apologize or something.” What if he didn’t do anything? What if I made it worse by going to his house and threatening him? My father’s way to do things—it could be wrong. It’s all I know. And it’s what put me in this place to begin with.

I have so many regrets. I don’t believe anyone who says they don’t. How can you live life making mistakes and never wish you could take one back?

I destroyed the guy’s wine cellar. If a person did that to me, I wouldn’t be just a little ticked off. I would despise them. And I don’t have much of an excuse. I was just…I was hurting, and I felt like I was screaming and no one could hear me. I was in the wrong, I get it, but my actions never gave him permission to terrorize Lily. For that, I just can’t forgive him.

Lily runs her fingers over my hand that holds the gear shift. “I’m not sure that will help. He may not accept it.”

If Aaron is the guy threatening us, we may be fucked.

We roll up to our gate, and I punch the security number into the keypad. We drive through, parking in the empty garage. Rose is late, not surprising with how much she juggles. When we walk into the house, I flick on the lights, half-expecting Lily to turn around and ask me if we can fuck.

She usually does.

Tonight’s different. Maybe because I openly confessed to thinking about a drink. Maybe she doesn’t want to put me in a position where I have to tell her no.

Lily plops down on the couch like its normal for her to be more interested in the television than the bedroom. “I think they’re playing Thor on HBO,” she says, leaning over to grab the remote. My eyes drop to her knees, squeezed tight together. Yeah, she’s struggling.

After pouring through all those memories, we both deserve a release. I mentally file through the therapist’s blacklist. I’ve reread it enough times that every word is engrained in my head.

No masturbation.

No porn.

No public sex.

Stop when your partner stops. Helpful tips: Start with timing your sessions and have a set hour dedicated to sex. For the first few months stick to positions that won’t elicit increased arousal after a climax. (This is subjective and you will have to experiment to discover what triggers you to keep going.) 

Only engage in sex when both you and your partner want to. Helpful tip: Let your partner choose the time.

Healthy amounts – sex cannot interfere with daily routines. Helpful tip: Keep to morning and night schedules.

I know Lily thinks there are stipulations like banning anal and blow jobs. I’ve had lengthy conversations on the phone with Allison, discussing how far I should take Lily. We still have to be intimate, and banning sexual positions won’t help that. So Allison and I agreed that the goal is to get Lily to a point where she doesn’t expect sex.

Not asking me for sex is a good first step, and I want to reward her for it. But I also fear that she’ll catch on to this. Over time she may pretend to be uninterested so she’ll get a lay out of me. The point is to make her stop thinking and wanting sex—not devising strategies to get it.

Considering my mind circulates around hunting for a bottle of something alcoholic, I understand it’s not a simple task.

“Ah, yes!” Lily says excitedly. “We didn’t miss the part with Sif.” Her eyes flicker to me briefly before they return to the TV. “You think we should go to Comic-Con this year? We can dress up as Thor and Sif.”

I sit down next to her on the couch, giving her a cushion worth of distance. I catch the instant frown in her eyes but it disappears when she focuses on the movie.

“I don’t think I’d look good as a blond,” I tell her.

She appraises my hair and then her eyes drop, lingering as she takes in my other features. She’s stared at me so hard for the past couple weeks that I’m fairly certain in a year she could recall every freckle by memory. Her throat bobs as she swallows. “I…yeah, umm…blond…no,” she stammers before turning back to the movie.

“How about we go as Loki and Sif?” I suggest.

She hesitates a moment before shaking her head. Her eyes meet mine again, and this time they stay right there. “How about Hellion and X-23?”

She never wants to dress up in the X-23 costume. It’s skimpy black leather that exposes her entire midriff, and I practically have to beg her to cosplay my favorite mutant couple. She’s offering this to me, and for some reason I have the sudden urge to take her right here.

So I do.

I bridge the distance between us and my lips find hers.

Her surprise stiffens her shoulders and freezes her arms, and I edge her mouth open, slipping my tongue inside. She wakes up, her hands swooping around my neck. I smile against her soft lips. My girlfriend is like a raunchy Sleeping Beauty, reanimating from a deep-throated kiss.

 I run my tongue along the base of her neck, and she begins to writhe underneath me. She’s unlike any girl I’ve ever been with. Little things set her off as if her body is made of a thousand nerves. She responds to every touch and lick like they’re each the peak she wishes to reach.

Her hands fly towards my pants, and I have to grab them before she does anything. A moan escapes her lips, and her spine curves, her body arching towards me. I lift her up beneath her arms, and her legs instantly wrap around my waist. I press a strong kiss to her lips, inhaling the vanilla scent of her hair.

Even midway in the air, she starts to grind against me. She has to feel that I’m hard, but I need her to keep her hands off me. I have self-control, but it flits away whenever she starts rubbing against my cock.

I set her down on the rug, the couch to our left. My lips slowly brush the top of her ear, my teeth barely skimming the tenderness of her skin. She lets out a sharp gasp.

“Easy, love,” I breathe. She settles again and I start, ever so slowly, undressing her. The light touch of the fabric sends her off as the shirt grazes up her belly and over her head. As I go for her jeans, she tries to sit up and touch me, but I put my hand on her shoulder, forcing her back to the floor again and give her a disapproving look.

She breathes heavily, and I wait to unbutton her until she nods, accepting that she must stay still.

When she does, I fish the button through the hole and slowly unzip. As I slide her jeans below her hips, down her thighs, I drink in her body and the way she responds to me. The little cries, the twitches of her legs and the curl of her toes. Every motion is filled with beauty that she won’t ever understand. It makes me aware of how alive she is.

After tossing her jeans to the side, I kiss the tops of her breasts, and she shudders against me. I run my teeth playfully over her bra straps, and her chest rises and falls in quick succession, eager and wanting.

“Lo,” she moans.

I stifle a groan in my throat, and I unclip her bra, freeing her of the clothing. And then I gently slip her panties down and off her ankles. While doing so, I lightly brush my fingers across the wet spot between her legs, so brief and powerful that the sensation immediately jolts her body. I have to remind her to stay still again.

“Lo, please,” she says, her voice raw and raspy.

I kiss those reddened lips, and then stand to my feet, leaving her bare and naked on the living room floor. Her eyes widen in horror, thinking I’m no longer going to fuck her.

“I’ll be right back, love,” I say quickly, wanting that look to disappear from her face. “I have to get a condom…and lube.” I grin at this, and I wait a second to watch her expression flip.

Her whole face lights up with delight. “But…I thought…” she starts.

I’m already backing away towards the bedroom. My dick feels like it might explode any minute, and I can’t prolong waiting much longer to get my own fucking release. Fear crosses me for a brief second, realizing I’m leaving her naked, horny, and alone.

Halfway up the stairs, she’s still watching me but her hands have edged closer and closer to the inside of her thighs. “Don’t fuck yourself,” I say roughly. “Or else I won’t fuck you.” It’s a threat I don’t like giving, considering my own arousal has almost peaked. I want to shove my cock inside her right now.

She nods eagerly, and I accept it, trying desperately to put faith in her. I just need her to be strong, but I know masturbation is one of her compulsions.

After reaching the second floor, I enter the darkened bedroom and quickly fumble around the desk drawer, grabbing a pack of condoms and lube. I haven’t used up either in two weeks, which should be a record for us.

When I return to the living room, I find Lily still lying on the rug but she covers her face with her hands. She’s concentrating too hard to hear me come in, and I take the time to kick off my pants and pull off my shirt. I lie down beside her and rub the top of her head easily. Her hands slide down, exposing her face and her eyes and the look that says, fuck me now.

“Lo, I almost touched myself.”

I kiss her forehead and take one of her hands in mine. “But you didn’t.”

She shakes her head. “But I want to…so badly,” she admits. “I can’t remember what I feel like. Isn’t that weird? That’s weird, right? I mean it’s my body, but I’m not allowed to touch really, and I…I…”

Jesus Christ. I take her in my arms, and she buries her head into my chest, near tears. This is not going as planned, and I feel like it’s partly my fault. I shouldn’t have left her alone and given her the opportunity to crawl inside her head. Maybe I can fix this.

“It’s okay, Lil,” I whisper. “If you want to touch yourself, just ask me.”

With her hand in mine, I guide it down her stomach, past her belly button and in between her legs. She gasps as I rub her fingers over her clit and then down farther, letting her feel how wet she has become.

“Better?” I ask, pulling her hand and glistening fingers back up to her chest.

She nods, her shoulders relaxing, and I kiss the base of her neck.

I turn her on her side and lie right against her back. I can almost see her start to smile.

I rip the condom package.

“Can I put it on you?” she asks hopefully, hearing the paper tear.

“If you can do it quickly,” I tell her, wanting to be inside of her more than she probably even knows. She flips over to face me, and I hand her the condom. Her eyes drop to my cock and I watch her entire expression practically glow. Her happiness is easy to bring, which I suppose is the problem, but I relish in sending her body into shockwaves and seeing her face lit up like the city.

Not listening to me, she gently and slowly rolls the condom on my dick. I let out a heavy breath and then groan. Dear God. “Faster, Lil,” I demand.

Her eyes flicker up, surprisingly, since it takes her great effort to look anywhere but my dick at times. She gives me a doe-eyed look and I can’t help but smile, yet I don’t give in. “Faster,” I repeat, stretching out the syllables.

She finishes rolling the condom up my shaft and then reaches for the lube. I grab her wrist and motion for her to turn around. I know she wants to be in control. I know she misses it. But she has to make me believe she can be on top and not get carried away. Right now, she’s not even close to being able to handle that type of position without going crazy.

Before she flips over, she bends down and places a soft kiss on the head of my cock. Then she rolls onto her side, sticking out her ass for me.

I rub some lube on, and she squirms a little, but I hold her steady. My cock throbs and I know I can’t hold out on going nice and slow. So when I have her ready, I thrust inside of her as fast and deep as I can without hurting her.

She lets out a long pleasurable moan and begins to writhe again. But I hold her tight, one arm around her neck and the other around her waist, grabbing her breast as I start pumping inside of her. Every thrust sends waves of ecstasy crashing through my cock and it feels too good to even stop for a second. I quicken my pace, her moans and half-screams perpetuating my speed.

Within another few minutes, I can feel her reach her edge. I move faster and harder, closing my eyes as I try not to release. And after my hand descends between her legs, her body convulses in waves of pleasure. She shakes with each intense tremor, and then her breath comes out ragged and heavy.

I pull out, still hard and aching, and toss the condom off. Her eyes are heavy, but she reaches out to me. Quickly, I roll her onto her back and grab her leg, bringing it up over my shoulder. The new position reinvigorates her energy and her eyes hit mine. With one swift motion, I’m inside her soaked pussy and she’s bucking up her hips.

I start thrusting harder, filling her deeply. My cock aches for release but I keep pulsing, keep feeding her needs. My free hand takes her chin and I lean down, our lips connecting. I kiss her while I move in and out, in and out. I hit something and she breaks away from my mouth, grinning. I smile back and then press my nose up against her cheek as I push harder, my lips parting once a noise catches. My hot breath on her neck, my hand on across her lips, muffling her sounds and heightening her arousal.

Everything I ever wanted is right here in my arms. I wish I could stay like this forever, but eventually we come together—in a surge of bliss and longing.

* * *

We’re on the floor, curled up in two throw blankets and a couple of pillows. Lily has fallen asleep in my arms, her steady breaths warming my bare chest.

She’s never asked me why I can fuck better than the sloppy lay at fourteen. Granted, our first time together was actually my first. But I always knew I’d eventually get her back in my arms. I vowed to be better than all her other conquests. To keep Lily Calloway meant that I’d have to be able to satiate her every need.

So I practiced. I dated girls for a week or so, nothing too serious, but I made sure the sex was always about their desires, their pleasure, never mine. It helped figure out what would work for Lil—what sets off women the most. And I guess I just became good at it. So in most ways I succeeded.

I mean, I can satisfy my twenty-year-old sex addict girlfriend, for Christ’s sake.

What I can’t seem to do is fall asleep, but at least holding her takes my mind off finding a drink. Kind of.

Suddenly, I hear the back door open, and the kitchen light flicks on. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I forgot Rose lives here. How the hell did I forget that?

I glance down at Lily, completely naked like me. Oh…yeah. Her left breast is exposed, her nipple red and swollen from all the times I sucked on it. I cover her with the blanket and count the clap of Rose’s heels on the marble of the kitchen, waiting for that bomb to explode.

Maybe she won’t see us.

“Loren,” she says coldly, in her normal octave.

I lift my head. Rose gives me a death glare that I’m sure has sent children to tears. Her hands rest haughtily on her hips, and her mouth is downturned in a perpetual frown. She is about to bitch me out, but I put my finger to my lips and nod to Lily.

 She’s asleep, finally. Hours usually have to pass before she relaxes, but after she came a second time, she dozed right off. I could have raced around the room and pumped my fists in the air. Sure, sex—her vice—helped her sleep. It’s not exactly a triumphant win. But it’s a small victory nonetheless.

Rose’s eyes flicker between us. She points at me and then jabs her finger at the kitchen. I mouth, okay and then carefully maneuver out from under Lily without waking her. She barely stirs, and I readjust the blanket so she’s covered completely.

“Loren!” Rose hisses at me.

I frown and look up to see her covering her eyes. Oh, right, I’m naked.

I try not to grin as I grab my boxer-briefs. Nope, can’t find those. I snatch a throw from the couch and tie it around my waist. I walk into the kitchen and she immediately assaults me with her leather purse.

“Okay, okay,” I whisper, blocking the hits with my arms. “I forgot you lived here, my apologies.”

She holsters her fucking weapon and uses her death glare again. “You can’t have sex in the living room, Loren. You broke a rule.”

“What?” No way. I know that list front to back…but so does Rose.

“No public sex,” she reminds me.

“The living room is not public.”

“It is now that you live with me. It’s a public space.” She motions around her. “Like the kitchen, and the garage, and everything that isn’t shared by only you and Lily. I didn’t think I had to explain that to you.”

A pain shoots up in my chest and I sink down on the nearest bar stool. “I didn’t…I…” I frown. Holy fuck. I’m such a goddamn idiot.

And the urge to vomit rises.

“Loren,” Rose says, her voice somehow soft. I meet her eyes and they look shockingly sympathetic. “It was one mistake. It won’t happen again.” Her voice is cold, but her optimism helps a little.

“It won’t.”

She lets out a small breath. “How did she do tonight?”

It’s like Lily had a quiz she needed to pass, and I guess partly that’s what sex is going to be like for her from now on—a test to see if she chooses to feed the compulsions or not.

“Better than usual,” I say. “She listened to me more, and she fell asleep after the hour. But I think that may be because I finally took her from behind.”

Rose talks about sex like we’re in a psychology class, nothing more than science, health and the human anatomy, which makes it frighteningly easier to discuss. “Did you two have anal sex often?”

I let out a low laugh. “Every day.”

I hear the garage door grind open or closed, and I immediately shoot to my feet.

Rose holds up a hand. “It’s just Connor.”

“He’s sleeping here?” I say in disbelief and then my lips rise. “Are you finally popping that cherry, Miss Rose Calloway?”

She looks about ready to tear out my vocal cords. My smile only grows.

“He has an early meeting in New York,” she says. Must be for Cobalt Inc., his family’s ink and magnet company, that is almost as profitable as Hale Co. baby products, but not quite. “It was last minute, so I told him it might be easier if he slept here…on the couch.” Oh. Fuck.

I grimace, not able to glimpse at the couch from the kitchen. But through the archway, I imagine pillows astray on the floor and one of the cushions perilously hanging over the edge. Basically I left the room a disaster with Lily swaddled in a blanket. A bystander would assume we fucked on the couch, even though I was thoughtful enough to move her to the rug.

“There are two guestrooms,” I say. “Why the couch?”

“He didn’t want to cause a fuss after he left,” Rose says. Her neurotic self would have to rearrange all of the pillows on the bed, wash the sheets, and probably iron the curtains just to be sure he didn’t touch those too.

Connor walks through the door, a small duffel bag slung over his shoulder and his hand preoccupied by texting on his cell.

When he looks up, his eyes meet mine and then drift down to my nearly naked body, stopping at my blanket, and then right back up.

“Hey beautiful,” I say with a grin.

He barely blinks. “Pants have been invented in this century.” He walks farther into the kitchen to give Rose a light kiss on the cheek. He must add the fact that I’m wearing a living room throw blanket because he says, “I thought you weren’t allowed to have public sex.”

Of course Rose told him about the list. She’ll take any lengths to make sure Lily stays on track in her recovery.

“No one was here. It seemed private enough to me.”

I can’t read Connor’s calm expression, but he looks to Rose. She already shakes her head—as though she knows exactly what he’s about to say. “I told you that you should have clarified for them,” Connor tells her.

“I told you? What are you, one?” Rose snaps, but she’s just pissed she was wrong and he was right.

“Most one-year-olds can barely speak, let alone utter an entire idiom like I told you so.”

She looks like she wants to slap him. “Why are we dating?”

“Because I asked you out and you said yes,” he tells her with a burgeoning smile. “And you’re madly in love with me.”

“I never said such a thing.”

He replies in French, and I can’t even process the words.

She smacks his arm, and he whispers deeper in her ear, his arm spindling around her waist as he draws her to his chest. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Rose so flushed before.

 She puts a hand on his black button-down, making sure there’s space between them. He kisses her on the head and keeps his arm around her, but he turns to me. “The couch isn’t vacant then.” His eyes fall to Rose, waiting for her to offer another solution. Like her bed, but she has solidified to stone.

She’s not one-hundred percent ready to share a bed with a guy, which isn’t a bad thing. I take pride in pissing Rose off, but causing her this type of fear—even unintentionally—makes me feel horrible.

Rose says, “The guestroom in the basement is free. I put clean sheets on the bed the other day.”

Connor nods, accepting the offer, and if he’s disappointed, I can’t tell at all.

I leave Connor and Rose to talk quietly amongst themselves, and I carefully lift Lily in my arms. I successfully carry her back to bed without waking her. She sighs, dreaming peacefully as I place her onto the mattress and tuck the comforter around her.

“Lo,” she says in a sleepy voice and rolls over onto a pillow, hugging it tightly in her arms. I’ve never been so jealous of a damn pillow.

But I let myself smile.

A year ago it would have been another man in her arms.

Oh, how far we’ve come.