“Bread is fine.”
“I can make some killer toast.”
“Mmm. What about coffee?”
“I have instant. That all right?”
“Mhm.”
I wonder if all pussies make sure every crevice of the toast has butter, or that there’s the perfect amount of sugar in her coffee, and whether she’ll mind that I don’t have cream. If pussies don’t then I do. I carry over a plate of toast and two hot mugs of coffee. “Take these.” I hand her some more painkillers. “See if you can keep that down this time.” I settle down beside her on the couch. “Maury?” I ask, raising my eyebrow in question.
“Len turned me on to it.”
“Remind me to school you on real television.”
“I can only imagine what your idea of real television is. You do know that The Bachelor is fake right?”
Her teasing smirk is quite possibly the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen. “What’s The Bachelor?”
She rolls her eyes. “You if you don’t shut up.”
I lock my lips and throw away the key.
Out the corner of my eye I watch her eat her toast. I have this nagging feeling that she could get up and leave me any second. She’ll fall head first into a baggie of pills or another dickhead’s lap like she did last night. He’ll take my Harley and replace her with the girl she was pretending to be. The mini skirt wearing vixen. If that’s all I could have I’d take her, but I’d much rather have this Harley. The one who eats toast on my couch without cream in her coffee and smirks at my television.
“Why are you staring at me?” She turns to me, licking butter off her finger. I’m jealous of her finger. “I know I look like shit.”
She doesn’t look like shit. Shit wishes it could look like that. “I’m afraid.” The admittance comes out all on its own.
“Of what?”
“That you’re going to wake up tomorrow and realize that the best thing you could ever do is cut me out of your life.” Being a pussy wasn’t so bad once you got used to it.
Her eyes soften. “Imagine if I do. No really, Bach. Try it. What if I do leave?”
I reach over and grab a slice of her toast, shoving the entire thing in my mouth. But she’s patient this morning. She waits for me to chew and swallow it all, waiting for an answer I don’t want to give her. “You have every right to leave me. It doesn’t make sense for you to want to stay. I want you. Me wanting you can’t be enough though. It isn’t even enough for me.”
“Answer me. What if I do leave?”
“I’ll give up!” I shout, losing it. “That’s what will happen. I’ll lose everything. I don’t give a shit what happens to me if you’re not here to give a shit with me. I can’t do this anymore, Harley. The drugs are killing me. The women are making me hate my own dick. The alcohol is cooking my insides. I can’t even look myself in the eye anymore. I can’t get out of this nightmare. It’s been sucking me in for years. It’s winning.” My hands shake on my lap. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to face my nightmares sober?” I want to puke just imagining it. “I can’t do that and be the man you deserve. Those two things don’t go together.”
She crawls to me, sitting her ass right down on my lap the way I like. Wrapping her hands around my neck she presses her forehead against mine and stares into my eyes. “We’ll make them go together. The only person who will leave this relationship is you. You’ve been running since you looked at me.” Her lips press softly to mine. “Stop running, Bach, and just trust that you’re enough for me.”
I take her mouth the way I always wanted. They’re my lips now. Her tongue has never been less hers. I earn every one of her moans, every plea, and every last hint of want on her breath. I can feel what she wants from me. The way her body grinds against mine tells me exactly what she wants me to do to her.
“Do you mind if we just kiss?” I can’t look her in the eye. “The month’s almost up and I haven’t been tested. After Brittney I’m pretty sure my dick’s going to fall off.”
She sits back on my lap, both disappointed and disgusted. “Did you really double team the red head?”
I nod once.
“All I did was dance with another guy. You banged half of Crystal Gulf.”
I blame her for it anyway. “He was all over you. Touching your thighs and your ass. I almost killed him when his hand went up your skirt.”
“It’s a good thing I was wearing panties.” She smiles like a feline in heat. “He asked if he could slide them to the side.”
I know she didn’t let him. I had eyes on her all night. “What did you tell him?” I play along anyway. She’s hot as hell when she’s jealous.
“That I was on my period.” She covers her hand with her mouth as she laughs.
“Is that why he left mid-dance? I thought you farted or something.”
Her smile drops. “I don’t fart. It’s how I expel my hatred.”
I gawk at her. “Dylan told me how hateful you can get when you eat lima beans. Said the last time you guys had succotash he had to sleep with his nose covered out of fear of suffocation.”
“Cute, Bach. Real cute. Dylan and I never ate succotash. That’s your country ass.”
Her annoyance makes me smirk. “I’m not country. My dad was the country one. I could barely understand him as a kid.” I understood his fists a lot better.
She smiles a little, probably because I just mentioned my dad. But she’s smart. She’s not going to ask about him. “My dad too. I moved too much to ever pick up an accent, but his was as thick as my mom’s.”
“She’s going to hate this. Us.”
“She’ll come around. I think she feels really bad for what happened. She’s just really protective. Always has been. Sometimes she takes it to extremes.”
“She doesn’t have to feel bad. She was right.”
“She thought she was right about Dylan too,” she points out.
At the mention of my best friend, my douchebag friend, with his douchebag lies, I won’t admit that I feel a slight, minor, damn near nonexistent spark of guilt. “What are we going to tell him?”
“The truth. That he’s a lying, cheating bastard and Bach Bachmen was here to pick up the pieces he left behind. That Bach left pieces of himself too. But unlike Dylan, Bach picked those pieces up. And now they’re his. I’m his.”
Out of everything a girl has ever said to me that might have been the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. “You’re mine.” I grab her hips and slide her closer to me. “I love the way that sounds.”
“We’re doing it again. We go from zero to one hundred in a second. Hate and then love. Lust and then disappointment. Love and then hate.”
“Where are we right now?” I slip my hands under her shirt and slide them around front to her perfect tits.
“Lust,” she breathes, lifting her shirt over her head. “Definitely lust.”
I hold each of her breasts in my hand, squeezing them softly. Her nipples harden against my palms almost immediately. I palm her gently as her hands come to rest on my shoulders. She fits perfectly in my hands. I lean forward and take one of her hard pink nipples in my mouth. Her fingers twist in my hair and her intake of breath makes me hate myself for not being able to make love to her right now. Waiting is worth not hurting her. It’s her turn this time. I suck on her nipple, taking it between my teeth and biting it gently, knowing it’s going to drive her insane. Her back arches in my arms and her moan makes my cock tighten painfully.
“You think we should stay in tonight?” I ask, making sure she’s watching when I flick my tongue against her.
Her eyes lower with lust and need. It makes the gold look slightly less good. “I lost the bet. Bite me harder, Bach.”
I do what she tells me, rolling her sensitive hard nipple between my teeth. My dick can’t believe how much it wants this girl. It begs for her, trying with all its might to get her attention. Greedy and uncaring. To shut it up I slide her back and lower her body until she’s lyin
g on the couch. Moving to rest on top of her, I resume my orders, nibbling gently on her flesh until she’s twisting beneath me. When I think she can’t take any more I start to kiss down her stomach. She smells like Harley, like clean skin and strawberries. I pause at her bellybutton and dip my tongue inside, grinning against her when she bucks. When I get to her shorts, and have effectively tortured her enough, I grab the waist, along with her panties, and peel them down her legs.
I don’t have it in me to tease her anymore. She doesn’t even know she’s really the one torturing me.
I drop down to the floor and kneel in front of the couch, guiding her legs so they can drape over my shoulders. “You have any idea how bad I want to taste you?”
“Mmm,” she moans, eyes bad. She’s my bad girl now. “Does my pussy taste good?”
“So fucking good.” I slide my middle finger over her swollen clit. She bucks hard, lifting her arms over her head to grip the back of the couch. I rub her clit gently, earning another one of those desperately satisfied moans.
“Then taste it already.”
“Don’t rush me, woman. If I have to make you cum twice then that’s how this will go.”
She laughs breathlessly. “Yes, Bach.”
I get an idea. “Good girl,” I tell her, increasing the speed of my fingers.
“Mmm.”
“Pick, Harley. Either I can rub you until you come or lick you until you come.”
“I want both.”
“Don’t be greedy. Or,” I tell her, watching her eyelids get even heavier. She’s close. I’m an evil bastard. “I can stop.”
“Don’t you dare stop!”
“Well then pick.”
She throws her head back, grinning a sexy ass grin. “I want both.”
“Good girl. Don’t ever settle with the choices I give you. Make me want what you want. I will always want what you want.” As I speak I slip my thumb just inside her opening, rubbing her in two places until her stomach looks like a tidal wave, her muscles contracting with each of her orgasms.
Watching her fall apart is better than every other woman in Crystal Gulf making me fall apart.
Harley doesn’t protest when I dip between her legs and start licking her. She watches me start round two. I pull her closer, taking her full round clit into my mouth. The taste of her, the feel of her, and the fucking warmth of her makes my hard cock throb in my jeans. Yet the fact that I can’t do anything about it makes it that much better. I never get teased. I want satisfaction, and I always get it. This time I want to satisfy her.
When she falls apart for the second time I have to pry my tongue away from her. She can barely keep her legs around my shoulders. As much as I want stay between her legs tasting that sweet fucking pussy of hers, I get up and go turn the bath water on. When I come back she hasn’t moved.
Without asking, I lean over and pick her up. She leans her head against my shoulder as I carry her to the tub. When we get to the bathroom she drops out of my arms to the floor and quickly sinks below the warm soapy water. I close the toilet seat and ease down on top of it, hypnotized by the heavy-lidded look she’s giving me.
“Aren’t you going to get in?” she wonders, sounding sleepy.
“What bet did you make with Justine?” If I get in I’ll want to get in more than the tub. It’s safer here, on the toilet, with my old friend.
“If I had fun I’d have to buy the alcohol for her party tonight. If I didn’t have a good time she had to tell Jona she’s in love with him.”
“No.” I laugh, crossing my legs over my knee. “You’re kidding? She loves him too?”
“He loves her?” She laughs right along with me. “I feel bad for them.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re too busy trying to hurt the other person to see it.”
“I was right there with him,” I remind her, just to remind her once again she can do so much better without actually saying it. I’m a selfish asshole. She knows it. If I keep saying it she might listen. If she leaves everything I’ve ever wanted goes with her. From now on my goal is to give her every reason to stay so she can’t see the reasons to leave.
“So is Justine.”
She has a point. Harley was only trying to get my attention, to throw my lies in my face. She’d never actually sleep with someone else to hurt me the way Justine’s doing. I suddenly feel bad for Jona, too. “He doesn’t think he’s good enough for her, either.”
“She’s sexy as hell. I bet he doesn’t.” She washes her face off with some water, running her hands down it and over her puffy lips. “Maybe we should talk to them.”
“How can you say that?” I move to sit in the edge of the tub. “Jus and I were together. A lot,” I emphasize much to her irritation. “I’m just saying, how can you compliment her knowing what you know?”
“I complimented you when I first met you. Disliking someone doesn’t take away the good things about them.”
Huh? “No you didn’t. I remember the first time I met you. I came to see Dylan on the beach for his bonfire with his new douchebag friends. I shook your hand and you had the audacity to curl that cute ass top lip over your teeth at me like I wasn’t the sexiest son of a bitch you ever met.”
She cracks a wide sleepy smile. “I didn’t like you. I admit that. I thought you were a cocky bastard who was trying to keep Dylan down. But I still thought you were gorgeous. I may not have said it out loud, but that’s always been true.”
“What if I met you first? You still think I’d be watching you take a bath after giving you back to back orgasms?”
Her smile is as sad and dirty as mine. “Yes.”
“I don’t. I think you’d be dating some other douchebag. A real one this time, too, and not the fake kind like Dylan. You’d graduate and become the best damn social worker and change lives. You’d have a lot of kids and raise them in one place like you always wanted. You’d be comfortable and happy.”
She looks at the soapy water for a second. When she returns her gaze to mine I think they’re glossier than they were a second ago. “What about you?”
“I’m sure there’s an empty prison cell next to my dad out there for me.” I dip my hand into the water, moving it back and forth. “Or I’d probably end up knocking up someone eventually and have a couple illegitimate kids like my dad. I’d ditch out on them and sleep with women who didn’t love me. Drink too much, probably to my end. My future’s so bright, babe, it’s blinding.”
Harley pulls in a shaky breath. “Get in, please.”
I don’t deny her. I can’t. Denying her is denying me. I lift my shirt over my head and kick my jeans and boxers off. Then I slide down behind her, wrapping my arms around her wet body. We’re quiet for a while. She leans against my chest, tracing a soapy pattern on my bicep.
“I want your future to be bright. We can make it bright together. If you could do anything what would you do?”
I sigh in her hair. “I’ve never thought about it.”
“Well try. Unless you’re fine with being a stay at home daddy.” There’s a smile in her voice. “I can’t change lives and take care of the kids.”
I can’t even make love to her without getting tested and she’s already talking about kids? Does she not see how fast we’re heading for the wall right now? But there’s a part of me, a small incredibly pussy-ridden part, that warms at the idea of taking care of our children. “That’s a long time in the future.”
“Did I scare you?”
“No. I scare myself.”
“I was only trying to show you that your future doesn’t have to be that way. If we’re together I’ll do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. We can do it,” she promises, sounding so sure I almost believe her. “We can talk about something else. Dylan refused to talk about kids too. Whenever I brought it up he even got a little mean about it.”
“Dylan did? That’s weird. That was just the kind of talk I think he’d be in to.”
She smirk
s, bending her head back to look at me. “Bach?”
I feel myself fall into them, parts of me I didn’t even know existed want this woman. “What, babe?”
Her fingernails close around my dick. As she talks she squeezes into me. “If you ever, ever, cheat on me again I will make it so this never works anymore, do you hear me? The next time you run I better be coming with you. I want to come with you. Don’t you get it, Bach? You don’t have to run on your own anymore. I can’t take it. I refuse to take it. We’re together now. You’re mine. I’ll be damned if I let you go again.”
I put my hands on the edge of the tub, trying to escape her hand. It tightens around my dick like a vice grip, teetering on the edge of actual pain. “Is it weird that this is turning me on?”
“Not for you. Did you hear what I said?” She impales me with her nails.
“I did.”
“Do you understand?”
I kiss her mouth softly. “I understand.”
I understand.
Trust me, Harley, I understand.
Harley
I let Bach’s penis go.
He sags back against the tiled wall in relief. I should have ripped it off. Instead I let him keep it. I plan on using it later.
Right now, however, last night is still clinging to me. My head is pounding, the pleasant effects of Bach’s tongue waning fast. I grab the bottle of soap out of the cubby and start to squeeze some into my hand, but Bach stops me.
“I’ll wash you,” he says, his words soft against my skin.
He takes his time, slowly lathering every part of my body. He spends a long time on my breasts, even though they’re probably the cleanest parts on my body. When he gets between my legs I feel him part me with his fingers and spend just as much time down there as he did on my tits. He works me up into another mind-blowing frenzy which he makes up for by kissing my neck, my shoulder, any part of me he can get his mouth on as he cleans me. If I knew all I had to do was throw his running in his face to get this I would have done it a long time ago.
Destroy Me (Crystal Gulf Book 1) Page 26
