by B. B. Hamel
“Ah,” she says softly. “He’s not the perfect little boy daddy thinks he is.”
“Far from it,” I say, laughing softly. “His family is stuck in the Dark Ages, unfortunately for him. I almost feel bad, if he weren’t such a fucking psychopath.”
“Okay, so he wants you dead because you know too much. Guess you can’t just… forget, right?”
“Right,” I say, grinning at her.
“How close were you two, anyway?”
“Close,” I admit. “Closer than I’m comfortable with now. He’s always been on the periphery of my life, probably keeping me close… in case.”
She frowns a little bit. “That’s super creepy.”
“No kidding. He’s probably been thinking about killing me for years.”
“And yet here you are.”
“Killing me isn’t simple,” I say softly.
“I guess not.” She glances away from me.
“Do you miss him?”
My question seems to surprise her more than anything. She looks back at me for a second, eyes searching mine, maybe trying to figure out if I’m being serious. Finally, she shakes her head.
“Not at all. He was a bastard. And a means to an end.”
“What end?”
“Getting a fix. If the drugs ever ran out, I would’ve left him in a heartbeat.”
“And yet… he hit you.”
She shrugs. “Most men do.”
I grunt, shaking my head. “No, they don’t.”
“In my experience.”
I hesitate a second, leaning closer to her. “You said some things… while you were detoxing.”
“What?” she asks, genuinely curious.
“About your father… hitting you. It was like you were reliving old memories.”
She nods a little bit, but doesn’t seem ashamed. “I’ve come to grips with all that. My parents are the reason I ran away, fell into all this…”
“What was your life like, before?”
She shrugs. “Aside from the beatings and the fear at home? Normal, I guess. I was… I was normal.”
“Do you miss being normal?”
“No,” she answers right away. “I don’t miss being normal.”
I laugh softly. “Yeah, neither do I.”
“I doubt you were ever normal.”
“Totally was. I played Pokémon as a kid.”
“Everyone did.” She grins at me and gets up. “That doesn’t make you normal.”
I watch as she sits on the bed and stretches her beautiful long legs. I lean back in my chair and wonder why she came back to me, what made her want to come back.
I don’t need to ask. I think I already know. She clearly went to her old apartment and got some of her stuff… and I bet there were drugs waiting. She had to have resisted them… at least I think so. She doesn’t seem high, far as I can tell.
I stand up and walk toward her. She watches me and her smile doesn’t falter.
“Can I trust you now?” I ask softly.
A little shrug. “Maybe.”
“Maybe,” I echo. “You ran off and came back. Does that mean you want to be here?”
“I probably shouldn’t.”
“No,” I say, stopping directly in front of her. I tip her chin up toward me. “Probably not. But that’s not what I asked.”
“Yes,” she whispers. “You can trust me.”
“Can you trust yourself?”
She looks angry for a moment and pulls her chin away, but lets out a breath and sighs. “I think so,” she says finally.
“Good.” I direct her face back toward me again, standing in front of her and looking down into her beautiful eyes. “I want to trust you.”
She bites her lip. “We’re in this together. As much as I hate to admit it.”
I laugh softly. “No, we’re not in this together. You’re in this with me, and if you don’t figure that out soon, we’re not going to make it.”
Her eyes narrow, but I don’t give her a chance to argue. I stoop down and kiss her, gently at first. She bites my lip and I grunt a little, pushing my lips tighter against hers.
I know this is the real reason she came back. I unbuckle my belt and pull my jeans off as I kiss her, stooped down over top. She reaches out and grabs onto my already hard cock through my boxer briefs and I let her stroke me, nice and slow.
This is what she came back for. In the end, she needs this big dick, this good dick. She needs to get fucked and come and feel all the things she’s forgotten how to feel. I can give her that. I can give her so much more.
I stand up and slide my boxer briefs off. She’s staring up at me, mouth hanging slightly open, tongue against her bottom teeth. She looks so fucking sexy, I think my cock gets even harder as she takes me by the shaft and slowly strokes me.
“Don’t pretend,” I say softly. “Don’t pretend you came back for any other reason.”
She glares at me, but she opens her mouth and takes my tip between her lips. I groan slightly as she starts to suck me, fast and wet and dirty, her tongue rolling around my skin.
“You came back for my cock, Kay,” I whisper. “You came back to feel everything you need to feel, every desperate inch.”
She’s breathing fast as she sucks me and strokes my shaft with both her hands. I grunt and slide my fingers through her hair, grabbing on tight. I push my cock deeper into her mouth, sliding into her throat, gagging her.
“You’re all mine now,” I whisper, bending over top of her, my cock in her throat. She pulls back and gasps for air, staring up at me with a look of desire and anger.
I pull her to her feet and push her up against the wall. She groans as I pull her shirt and bra off, kissing her neck and breasts, teasing her nipples. I bite her shoulder, pull her hair, pin her tight against the wall. I bite her nipple and make her gasp as I pull her shorts off, sliding them over her thick, firm ass.
I drop to my knees in front of her and spread her legs. She lets out a little grunt of pleasure as I lick up her wet pussy over her panties. I want to ruin these, get them so dripping wet she has to throw them out. I lick her up, let her juices soak into the fabric, my hands cupping her ass. She grabs onto my hair just as I pull her panties down and let them fall onto the floor.
She’s staring down at me as I tease her. I lick her top to bottom, tasting her delicious cunt. I slide my tongue in deep and pull back, licking back up to work her clit. I suck and lick her like that, pulling her tighter against my mouth. She arches her back and pushes her hips out, letting my tongue take control.
I squeeze her thick ass and taste every single fucking inch of her. I love the moans that escape her lips, desperate and impossible to contain. I lick and suck her faster and faster, tongue sliding inside and back out to glide along her clit. More gasps and pants escape between her teeth and I know she’s loving this. She probably forgot how fucking good it can feel.
I stand up and pull her toward me. She’s naked, sweat prickling her skin. There’s soft hair up along her stomach and along her arms, downy and barely visible. I kiss it as I sit back on the bed and pull her on top of me, making her straddle my thick cock.
She bites her lip, back arched, arms wrapped around my neck. My tip presses against her pussy, but she’s so wet it easily sinks inside. Her head tips back, and I tip it back harder as I pull her hair. She groans, animalistic and pure, as she sinks my cock deep inside her pussy.
It’s warm and wet and feels so fucking incredible I want to come the instant I’m filling her. I want to come deep into her tight pussy, make her gasp and beg, but I hold off. She starts to work her hips, slowly at first, eyes locked on mine and lips hanging open. She presses her forehead close to mine as she starts to work her ass and lower back, moving up and down, riding my thick cock.
“Faster,” I whisper to her. “Or are you scared? Can’t take it?”
“I can take it,” she whispers back.
I pull her hair, hard. She gasps, glaring at me, but starts to
move her hips. She rides me, shaking that thick ass up and down. I slap it with my free hand, get a good grab on her hips, thrust up inside to get her moving faster. She gasps as I suck her nipple and let her ride me, her whole body tense as she moves.
“Work my cock,” I whisper to her. “I want to see you sweating.”
She groans and responds by moving faster. The bed’s shaking as she rides my big dick and I slap that ass again, nice and hard. She gasps as she goes, grinding and rolling her hips, mouth hanging open like she’s lost in bliss.
“We both know this is why you came back. You came back to feel this dick again, deep inside that tight cunt of yours.” I pull her hair tight, making her groan. She’s glaring at me, angry, but it only makes her ride me faster.
I want to push her, test her limits. “You know you’re fucked up,” I whisper to her. “Broken and fucked up. You need something new to get addicted to.” I slap her ass, nice and hard. “You’re addicted to this dick and you know it.”
She groans and pushes against me. She shoves me flat on my back and leans over top, riding back, shoving her hips back against mine. She’s groaning and fucking me hard and fast, hair spilling down around her.
“That’s right, work it out, get out all that anger, girl. Ride that dick, get that new fucking fix.”
She sits up and glares down at me, eyes filled with rage. But instead of pulling back, she slaps me.
It catches me by surprise. She slaps me in the face and my eyes go wide, but she doesn’t stop riding. She writhes her hips and tips her head back and I laugh at the flash of pain in my cheek. I laugh as she rides my big dick faster, letting me fill her up.
She has fire, I’ll give her that. She has a lot of fucking fire.
I sit up and push her off me. She stumbles backwards, glaring at me. She was clearly in the zone, and I laugh a little, walking toward her, stroking my cock.
“You want to come?” I ask her. “You want to get off?”
She nods a little bit. I back her up against the wall again.
“Earn it,” I say, taking her by the hair and putting her down on her knees. “Earn it, girl.”
She sucks my cock with reckless abandon, her mouth sliding up and down, her cheeks spread out. She gags and keeps going when I push her down deep, and I fucking love how hard she works. She’s desperate for it, needs it so badly, and I’m riding on that edge of orgasm. I’m so hard I think I might come at any second.
I pull her back and push her over to the bed. This time I bend her over, stomach down and legs over the side. I grab those hips and she lifts her ass up as I push my big cock deep inside her pussy.
She gasps as I fuck her from behind. “This is what you wanted,” I whisper. “Big dick spreading you wide, fucking you rough.”
I grab her wrists and pin them behind her back. I dominate her, control her body, keep her right where I want her. I slap her ass, bite her shoulder, pull her hair. I fuck her pussy raw and deep and rough, not holding anything back. Her gasps and moans tell me everything I need to hear, everything I want to know. She’s in ecstasy and I want her right there, riding on that razor wire, ready to explode at any moment.
I pin her down and slap her ass rough. I keep fucking her, pulling one of her hands behind her back, and she gasps, looking over her shoulder. Her eyes are wide and pleading with me now, and I know what she wants. I growl at her and fuck her harder, losing myself, sweat on my skin, entire body tense. I fuck her rough and deep and she practically screams my name as she comes.
Every inch of her comes. She comes with her whole body, out of her mind. It’s incredible to watch as it moves along her skin. She tenses and groans, eyes rolled back, neck pulled back, head up. I fuck her through it, merciless and mean. I want this pussy, want to mark it as my own. I can feel my orgasm building and I know I’m about to get tipped over, tipped over that edge.
Her orgasm does it for me. I hold off just long enough for her to finish, and as her last twitches die down, I pull my cock from her tight cunt and stroke myself. It takes three strokes before I pump my cum onto her back in thick, long spurts. I come all over her ass and strong back, groaning as I do it.
It’s a frenzy, and when it’s over, we come crashing back down to earth. I get her a towel and help her into the shower. We don’t say anything as we clean off, rinsing sweat and cum from our bodies. I kiss her and she kisses me back, an odd little smile on her lips.
As she’s finishing, I grab her hair, pull her back. She looks at me and I kiss her one more time, slow and deep.
“This really is the reason you came back,” I whisper to her.
“I know.” She steps out of the shower, her perfect ass round and thick. I watch her and I know I’m fucked.
12
Kaylee
I’m still sore the next day, a stupid smile on my face. It’s that good sore between my legs, proof of what happened yesterday. Proof that I didn’t get high, proof that he did fuck me in a way I didn’t think possible. It’s a good buzzing, aching sore, and I love it.
I don’t know why. I’ve never felt this way before, not about discomfort. It’s strange, I’ve lived for so long as an addict, barely existing on the margins of society, but I’ve always hated being uncomfortable. Maybe that’s why I’ve always made sure I had a fix. I hated the feeling I got when I went too long without it. I also hated sleeping on the floor or forgetting to brush my teeth. Little things, little comforts. I don’t know how I survived as an addict.
But really I do. I survived because I attached myself to shitty men like Leo and let them do whatever with me as long as I got my little comforts and my drugs.
Maybe I’m doing the same thing now, but I doubt it. Julian isn’t comfortable, he doesn’t provide anything. Except for sex. Mostly though, he’s intense, handsome, smart, funny. I like being around him. That’s what he provides, himself and his body. Leo himself was garbage, but I liked whatever he had around him. Julian is the opposite. Everything around us is broken, but he’s something good, and I don’t know why.
I should hate him, but I don’t. Maybe I’m making all the same mistakes.
I smile up at the sky. I’m sober and I can feel it. I breathe deep, taste salt in the air. I hear gulls nearby, cars nearby. I kick a loose rock and watch it skitter into someone’s yard. Maybe I’m making all the same mistakes but at least I’m making them sober. At least I’m making them on purpose, instead of in a blind half-alive panic born of addiction and frenzied uncontrollable need for a substance to keep me going. I’m making my own damn mistakes and bad decisions again and it feels good.
He didn’t want to let me outside, but he didn’t stop me, either. I took some money from my bag and asked what he wanted to eat.
“You’re going today?”
“Yes, I am. Better put in your order now.”
He frowned, but he told me what he wanted, and here I am. The diner’s a few feet away and I’m hungry, but I’m taking my time anyway.
I feel freer than I ever have. Maybe that first day away from my parents, maybe I felt freer back then. At least I felt like I had more potential. I saw the whole world in front of me. Now I don’t have that same feeling, I know what I am and where I’m likely going, but for some reason it doesn’t matter. For some reason, I’m just happy I’m the one going there.
I head inside and step up to the counter. The diner’s full of people and I know I should keep a low profile, but I can’t help myself. I smile at the lady at the counter as I put in our order and she smiles back. She pours me a coffee to drink while I’m waiting and I sip it gratefully, staring around the room at all the other people.
Tourists, families, locals, it doesn’t matter. They’re people, same as me. God, I feel so stupidly good, I almost hate myself for it.
I sip the coffee. It’s hot and strong. I notice two guys sitting off toward the back, both of them staring at me. I look quickly away, frowning a little. They’re big guys, heavyset, thick around the shoulders. They stand out like sore
thumbs, like they don’t belong anywhere near this place.
I take a breath and let it out. I’m just being paranoid.
I sip my coffee but I can’t escape the feeling that they’re watching me. The waitress comes back and refills it with a smile.
“You from around here, honey?” she asks me. “Or on vacation?”
“From around here. And on vacation.” I give her a tight smile. “Little bit of both.”
She laughs. “I guess that’s how it is. Nobody’s born here.”
“You live here long?”
“Oh, ten years now.” She frowns. “Time flies, right?”
“Right.” I manage a bigger smile, letting out a breath, relaxing myself. She heads off to help someone else and I force myself to drink another cup of coffee and ignore the guys that I swear are still watching me.
The food finally comes. My good mood is basically ruined as reality leaks back into my world. I carry the bag out into the bright afternoon. This time, the salt and the birds and the overbearing sun aren’t an occasion for blind joy.
I walk fast back toward the motel. I glance over my shoulder at the diner, and I spot those two guys coming out, sauntering in my wake. They’re both watching me, and I make a snap decision. I veer away from the motel and start in toward town.
They follow. Not too close, but close enough that I feel like I need to speed up. I walk faster, and they match my pace, not getting closer but not falling back. I make a left turn, a right turn, really walking at random. I find myself in the middle of a strange neighborhood and those two guys are still back there, watching me, following me. I swear the shorter one is grinning like a maniac, hungry for a kill.
I’m freaking out. I know they’re here for me, that’s obvious. I never should’ve gone out of the room today. Julian would know what to do, he’d be able to handle these guys, but they’re both twice my size and I don’t know anything about fighting anyone.
I’m hyperventilating, freaking out. I hurry down another street and there’s a main road up ahead. Shops line the sidewalk and I try to lose myself in the crowd, skirting around people, darting through families.
