In true bitch fashion, I mean, I might as well go all out, I don’t bother leaving Scarlett a note or anything. I realize how much of my stuff was occupying her space after she got rid of a good bit of furniture to accommodate mine. Leaving the key on the kitchen table, I lock the door, pulling it closed. She gets off in about three hours. I estimate my phone will ring fifteen minutes later, where I will get the cussing of a lifetime that I completely deserve. I can’t discern why, when I know this is the wrong way to handle this, that I’m continuing down this path, other than Gray keeps telling me this is what we need to do for us. I’m too smart to believe that shit. There’s still a right way and a wrong way to deal with tough situations. This is by far the wrong way.
Gray and I have just finished unloading the truck when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Glancing at the time, I know its Scarlett.
“Hey, Scar, what’s up?” I’m not sure I could be any more fake if I tried.
“Oh, my God, Annie. I’m so glad you are safe. I think we were robbed.” She’s out of breath. I sense the ease in her voice when she realizes I’m safe. She obviously hasn’t looked very closely or she would notice that it is only my stuff that is gone. Her only concern was making sure I was okay, not the material things.
“What are you talking about, Scarlett?” That’s it, maybe if I keep up this charade I can make her believe that MY stuff was stolen and I’m not a total bitch.
“Our stuff is gone. Where are you?”
I sigh. I have to get this over with. Gray raises an eyebrow at me, slightly shaking his head before walking in, leaving me to talk to Scarlett alone. “We weren’t robbed, Scarlett. I don’t really know how to tell you this so I’m just going to say it. I moved back in with Gray today.”
“What the fuck, Annie?!” If there is a word to describe a voice that is louder than screaming, I would use it in this instance. I can hardly understand the words coming out of her mouth she is yelling so loudly in the phone. I hear several mentions of the words fuck, Gray, piece of shit, no different, and bitch, no doubt all of them used in correlation with Gray and myself, deservedly. “You know what, you guys deserve each other. I can’t believe you, of all people, would fuck me over like this Annie. I hope he’s worth it because you just lost a friend over this shit.” With that, she hangs up on me. I know I deserve it, so I can’t even feel sorry for myself. This is by far the crappiest thing I have ever done to anyone. Scarlett has been an incredible friend and I just shit all over her.
I walk in the apartment silently crying, regretting how I handled this situation. Gray is coming out of the bedroom when he sees my turmoil and he comes to me, wrapping me up in his long, muscular arms. Kissing the top of my head, he whispers, “She loves you, Annie. She’ll come around.” I just shake my head knowing this time I have gone too far. My friends have put up with my back and forth with Gray for the last six months or so, never saying much initially, just comforting me, but after Cole, they all let loose. None of them even want to hear his name. He has caused me so much pain they can’t bear to see me continue torturing myself with notions of grandeur where he is concerned.
I wish they understood my need for him. It’s the worst drug I’ve ever put in my body. The withdrawal I sustained when he left was worse than any detox. I am made for Gray Dearsley. Our souls are connected. Our bodies a perfect fit. Not having him at all was worse than the pain of having him abuse the love I showed him.
“Give her a couple of days. Then call her or go see her. You guys can work this out. Once she sees you’re happy, she’ll be okay.”
I call over and over again during the next week. She never answers, doesn’t return my voice mails, doesn’t respond to text messages, and refuses to open the door when I stop by. Topher told Gray that she is done. So after two weeks of trying to make amends, I give up. I don’t blame her for her hating me, and thinking I have made a horrible decision, but truth be known, I miss her. Jenny, Lynn, and Kris are all distant as well. Scarlett beat me to all of them, telling them what I had done. Needless to say, each one of them is disappointed in me. My only choice is to let Gray lead me and it is a path away from my friends.
We start going out with his friends from work minus Topher, of course. I’m not allowed to be around Topher, alone or otherwise. Gray doesn’t trust either of us together, regardless of how many times I tell him that I’m not interested. Topher has assured him of the same over and over. Oddly, Gray never asks for details about that night. He never asks what happened, what we did, about our feelings, nothing. It’s like he just wants to pretend it never happened. I still have no idea how Gray even found out, but I’m smart enough not to ask. I assume Topher’s guilty conscious got the best of him. You would think that this would have impacted their friendship, but somehow men seem to overcome things better than women do. They still hang out, just not with me around.
Gray has been incredible. Every night we have dinner together. We watch television or go out if I don’t have homework to do. The sex is amazing, as always. As I’m nearing the end of my final semester, school gets to be crazy. I’m spending more and more time trying to wrap up my classes, finals, and my senior seminar leaving less time for Gray. He never reacts well to not being the center of my attention, but I try to help him understand that once this is over, I’m done. There will be no more school. I can just focus on him and work. He’s like a little kid who pouts when he doesn’t get what he wants, but Gray has never tried to do all that I’m doing right now. He works three days a week and has the freedom to do what he wants any other time. I feel as if I have zero freedom until May when I walk across that stage. We have had a few disagreements surrounding his perceived neglect, but our bodies always seem to find a way to resolve our issues. Tonight is no different.
“Baby, I want you to go out with us tonight. You’ve done nothing but study for days. I miss you and I want you to spend time with me out doing something fun.” Whining is not a good sound from a six foot three alpha-male. I roll my eyes at him to show my irritation, not that he can’t see it written all over my face.
“Gray, I’m almost done with school. Once I’m done, we have all the time in the world.” Like a broken record, I repeat the same song every time this comes up.
“One night won’t kill your GPA, Bird Dog.” I hate it when he does this. He knows calling me that always makes me melty inside. He usually reserves it for things that are really important to him, so I give in. Setting my books down on the couch I get up to go change clothes.
Walking toward the bedroom, I call over my shoulder, “Where are we going so I know what to wear?” Instantly, he’s on me, hands sliding around my waist. I feel his warm breath against my neck.
“Are you in a hurry?” His voice is husky and lined with sex.
Shaking my head, I feel like a bug trapped in Gray’s web. I get anxious with anticipation, but slightly scared that I might be devoured. I never know which one of his sexual personalities will show up when we’re both naked, which heightens the experience. Swatting at my ass, I know instantly, playful Gray is following me to our room. Each one of his identities is engaging in its own way. There’s playful boyfriend, rough alpha, loving soul mate, porn star, and quick Charlie. They all serve in separate time and places, each very useful. I adore them all with no favorite.
Squirming in his grasp, he scoops me up under one arm like I’m a football before diving both of us onto the bed stomach first. Giggling, I try to play hard to get, edging away from him, but he snags me, pulling me back to his side.
“Be still, Bird Dog.”
The glimmer in his eyes verifies he has an agenda and the crinkle next to them confirms it’s going to be spirited. Springing up off the bed, Gray hits the CD player on the dresser. I have no idea when he would have put 1980s disco porn music in our CD player, but I can’t help but roar with laughter as soon as the beat finds my ears. I sit up to watch him move around our room, wondering what he’s got up his sleeve. Stopping at the closet door, with his back
to me, he places one hand high above his head, craning his neck to look at me over his shoulder. He starts bouncing his ass like a stripper. He winks at me before he jerks his face back to the closet door, swaying his hips, grinding them toward the door like he’s making passionate love to the wood. I’m laughing so hard that I’ve lost sound. It’s that stomach hurting, eyes leaking, hysterical laughter that feels so good, but hurts so bad.
When he starts his strip tease, I can’t breathe. I’ve always thought he was beautiful, everything about him, but his body, damn, it’s just exquisite. He starts to remove his t-shirt in unhurried movements that instantly make me wet and leave me gasping for air. His back muscles ripple as his arms go up, still facing away from me. I stretch to reach him. Sensing me, he tosses his shirt on my head. Removing my temporary blindfold, he’s moved within a few inches of me, resuming his teasing dance. I lean in to work the buttons on his jeans, but he steps away just in time to prevent my contact. The horrible music still in the background, but he must know it. He starts to rip at his button and zipper in time with the music, thrusting his jean covered dick toward me with a rhythm that makes me crave him intimately. Tossing his head back he laughs, obviously knowing I’m enjoying the show.
Gray is trying to do more than arouse me. He is definitely playing with me. As he drops his pants to his ankles, he turns his back to me before bending at the waist, giving me an up close view of his taint. He smiles at me between his legs. I fall back on to the bed laughing. He pulls me back up by my hand. His hard as a rock dick is instantly in my face. Hips still shucking and jiving to the funky beat, he hits my cheek with his hard length. Circling his ass around, he waves hello to me with his third leg. As the song comes to an end, so does his performance. The music changes to something I don’t recognize, but I stop hearing it when his hands reach out to my cheeks and mine to his ass, pulling him toward me.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pull him between my thighs opening my mouth to encompass his girth. With one hand at the base of his shaft, the other tugging gently on his sac, I take him fully in my mouth. Stroking his length with both my hand and tongue, he groans deeply. Not allowing me to stay on him, he pushes my shoulders back, withdrawing from my mouth.
His hands slide up my thighs, snaking under my butt, clutching the cheeks to draw me to the edge of the bed. Withdrawing his hands from under me, he makes short work of removing all of my clothing, tossing them aside in a frantic haze. Once naked, he pushes my knees apart, exposing my most intimate parts that I know are coated in the moisture that he’s inflicted. Palm flat on my knee, he moves toward my sex. His thumb finds my swollen clit, gently rubbing circles around it before plunging his long, masculine fingers deep within me. Turning his hand to position his fingers in a come hither gesture inside me, he slowly withdraws them before pushing them back, hitting that spot that only Gray can find, causing my back to arch in bliss. My breath is becoming ragged. My desire to have him is overtaking my ability to think. I moan his name, drawing it out like the sensations he’s pulling from me. He retracts his hand, lifting it to his mouth to taste what he has been feeling. That gesture comes close to sending me over the edge. It’s hot; I love that he likes my taste on his tongue.
Adjusting his position, he rubs his cock between my aching folds, teasing us both. When I think I can’t take it anymore, his head finds my entrance, slowly pushing his engorged cock into me. Instantly filling me physically, but when his eyes find mine, it’s emotional as well. I close my eyes to dull one sense while heightening another; the loss of sight giving way to the height of touch. I roll my hips to his. Our bodies circle together like Baoding Balls in the hands of a skilled Chinaman. He lies down next to me, pulling me further on to the bed with him, continuing the pattern. With each loop he makes, he withdraws before easing his way back in at the completion of the motion.
He’s gone from playful boyfriend to loving soul mate. The give and take from our hips creates the bond, the connection we always find. It’s passionate in a way that unites us to each other, a bond no one can break. He feels me tightening around him, knowing I’m close.
“Baby, I want your eyes.”
I open them for him, staring deep within his soul. His pace increases. His body constricts and I topple over the brink of ecstasy with Gray. Completely spent, I roll over, stroking the tattoo that always catches my attention.
“Baby, what does this stand for?”
He winks at me, and says, “It’s Chinese for stallion.”
Chapter Thirty-Two – Gray
There are so many things about Annie that make my heart beat faster. Still giving me that nervous feeling in my stomach that I’ve gotten since the day we met, like watching her run her fingers through her hair when she’s frustrated, or the way she chews a pen cap when she’s studying, and how her smile changes the course of my day. Plain and simple, she’s the color in my rainbow. I’ve never met a woman who loves the way she does and there is no doubt in my mind the devotion she has for me. I can see it written all over her face, in the sparkle of her eyes when she looks my direction, the warmth in her voice when I overhear her talking to her friends. There’s no doubt in my mind that Annie and I were meant to be together, always. Some unseen force, a connection neither of us can define but is undeniably there, binds our souls. There aren’t words to define my depth of emotion for her, nor are there words to define why, when I feel this way, there is still a nagging part of me that needs distance.
Since moving her back in with me, she has done everything imaginable to please me. If I ask her to go out with me and the guys, she drops whatever she’s doing, including homework to accompany me. She cooks dinner every night, although neither of us denies she’s not the best cook in the world but she tries. She is totally available to me, physically and emotionally. My friends like her; I love her, but I can’t escape this feeling that just keeps gnawing at me, like that panic that starts to set in when I start to feel claustrophobic. The irony is, she doesn’t crowd me. We both live our own lives separate from our lives together. She doesn’t make demands of me, isn’t withholding vital physical aspects of our relationship and for the most part, we don’t fight. But it’s there, that feeling. She knows it too. She hasn’t said anything and she won’t. She will just try to fix it silently, without openly acknowledging it.
Lately, the depression, her depression, has started to eat at her. Annie is really good at keeping secrets she doesn’t want anyone else to know about. She doesn’t lie but she can certainly keep from telling people anything she doesn’t want shared; her depression being at the top of that list. When she moved in from Scarlett’s house, I thought I was being helpful, unpacking her stuff in the bathroom. I knew where she liked to keep things in her old apartment so I figured it was something I could easily take care of for her.
When I found the medication, I asked her what it was. I’m an idiot, I admit, but I knew it wasn’t birth control, having seen lots of those little round packs. But she had never, not once, mentioned anything she took long-term medication for. She’s healthy as a horse. In all the time I’ve known her, she’s only gotten sick the one time that led to Cole’s conception. Her eyes filled with tears when she snatched the bottle from my hands, before stomping out of the bathroom. I stood there stunned for a few minutes, not sure what the hell had just happened, then went to find her in the living room. When I sat down next to her, she told me she had been dealing with depression for several years. It broke my heart to listen to what she’s struggled with over the years. She assures me she has learned ways to cope with the depression, but also told me that the drug use helps. Part of her reason for burying herself in work and school is driven by her need to stay constantly occupied to drive way the darkness. If she is consumed with other things, she doesn’t have the opportunity to fall victim. It all makes more sense but it makes me hurt for her. She thinks that people think she is broken or frail if they find out. She hides the emotion so well no one suspects her turmoil. It also made me r
ealize when she went into hiding after losing Cole and losing me, she was in the depths of depression, and I left her there alone. I didn’t ask her about those times because I couldn’t bear to think about what she was going through or how she managed. I just know I shouldn’t have left her, she was my responsibility; it could have ultimately destroyed her.
I’m not sure if the feeling of suffocation is due to having a serious relationship or a relationship where I know that person depends on me for stability, to not sink into the abyss. I know that if I left Annie again, it could, in theory, send her over the edge. That’s a lot of pressure, albeit self-imposed. I haven’t talked to anyone other than Annie about her depression, not even Topher. I don’t think it’s my place but I really want someone to talk to, someone who can rationalize this for me so that it doesn’t feel like impending doom. I tell myself that she was able to keep the secret from me for almost three years and that I wouldn’t have known had I not found the pills. She never showed me any recognizable signs. Irrationally, I believe that her mental security rests squarely on my shoulders, a modern day Atlas. I feel an overwhelming need to protect her but my sense of self-preservation is causing me to pull away, even if only slightly, and nothing gets passed Annie.
I realize I’ve been sitting on the couch, completely consumed by my thoughts, when Annie comes through the door. Her eyes look a little glazed over, she’s either high, or she’s been crying, neither will she likely confess to me. “Hey, Bird Dog. How was your day?” She shrugs her shoulders before plopping down on the couch next to me. Lifting my arm, she tucks her body into my side, and the emotion starts to pour out. We sit in silence for a moment, me allowing her the time she needs to dump her feelings, which she doesn’t do often. When I fold my arm up to press her head against me, I kiss the top of her head and ask, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
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