I look back at her and she gazes up at me from under her eyelashes.
“What’s that?” God, she smells amazing. The way she’s looking at me right now, it’s astonishing that I haven’t kissed her.
“She told me that it’s impossible to be afraid and horny at the same time,” she smiles slyly at me and my cock throbs against my jeans.
“Is that a fact?” My voice grows thick and I move closer to her.
“It is.” She breathes.
“I think I’m going to have to test that out,” I wrap my hand around the back of her head and crush my lips against hers. She parts her mouth eagerly and our tongues collide. She tastes sweet. Like there’s still some innocence behind her wall of pain; innocence that I’d like to claim.
Her hands quickly slide over my shoulders and down my back. Her movements are frantic, desperate, like she needs this as much as I do. Maybe even more.
My fingers trail down to the edge of her shirt and I pull it up, breaking our kiss when I reach her chin, then I tug it off her sexy body. I throw back the blanket she tried to hide under and shamelessly soak in every inch of her almost naked frame.
“Take yours off,” her voice is hoarse with desire. I quickly rip off my own shirt and toss it to the floor beside hers. She drinks me in and I move over to the edge of the bed, leaning my back against the wall, I pull her on top of me so she’s straddling my rigid cock, still bound by my jeans.
I lick down the side of her neck and trail my tongue down over her collarbone and over her chest. When I pull her rosy nipple into my mouth, she throws her head back and grinds down against me, driving me wild. I want to make her mine. To feel her sweet pussy clench around me as I fuck all of her fears, her sadness and her pain away. I want to make her forget everything that came before me, to make her feel like a virgin again, as her walls stretch around me, letting me take what’s mine.
I push my fingers under the flimsy fabric of her underwear and part her lips with my finger as I suck her nipple into my mouth. Holly groans and presses herself down onto my hand. I can feel her excitement, she’s wet. However, I know from experience that she’s needs to be soaked if she’s going to enjoy every inch of what I have to give her.
I free her nipple from my mouth and look in her beautiful eyes, “Stand up,” I growl.
“What?” She looks puzzled, but I guide her to her feet and she complies. She stands in front of me, looking unsure of herself.
“Lean your arms on the wall,” I instruct her. As she does, her sweet pussy moves less than an inch from my face. I can smell her sweet juices and I salivate.
“Don’t move,” I order her and pull her panties over her plump ass, tugging them down to just above her knees.
I don’t waste any time, cupping her ass with both hands, I pull her toward my needy mouth and dive my tongue into her neatly-trimmed pussy.
“Ahhh,” she squirms in my hands and I pinch my hands into her flesh and I hold her in place.
I lick her from her center to her sensitive little nub, holding her tight while she wriggles in my hands. Flickering my tongue against her, I feel her thighs quiver on either side of my face as I eat her out. I keep licking her clit, relentlessly in pursuit of her orgasm until I no longer need to press her into my mouth. Instead, she starts grinding her hips, pressing her pussy deep against my face, chasing her pleasure from my tongue.
I look up the length of her body above me. I watch as her perky tits bounce a little each time she thrusts her hips forward. I flatten my tongue against her clit and slide it over her until she’s trembling against me. Her breathing is ragged and she drops her head to the wall supporting her and squeezes her eyes shut while she lets me rack her body with ecstasy.
“Ooohhh, fuck!” She whimpers, her sweet nectar floods her pussy and I lap it up as she shakes with bliss.
Suddenly, her knees buckle and she unexpectedly crumples into my lap. “Are you ok?” I whisper, pulling her toward me.
“More than ok. That was fucking amazing,” she breathes.
“I’m glad,” I smirk.
“No, I mean,” she looks up at me shyly, “no one has ever done that for me before,” deep red burns across her cheeks at her confession.
I raise an eyebrow, “Really?”
“It’s true,” she mumbles.
I knew I would make her mine. “Now, how about I do something for you?” Her nimble fingers quickly pry open my jeans and she reaches in, wrapping her hand around my ready cock.
I stifle my laugh as I watch her eyes grow wide, “Are you serious?” Her hand explores my thick dick and her eyes drop down to soak it in, like she can’t believe her sense of touch alone.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go slowly,” I smirk.
“Oh my god!” Her blue eyes grow even bigger as she examines the ten inches I’m going to stuff inside her.
Holly shuffles back on the bed, hovering her mouth over my ready cock. I can feel the heat of her breath on my skin, teasing me. I groan as she slowly licks her lips in anticipation. She lowers her mouth, her lips surround the head of my dick.
Squeak, thunk, squeak thunk.
“Shit! What was that?” Holly’s eyes are still opened wide, but this time in sheer terror. I heard it too. The distinctive sound of squeaky sneakers making their way up the hall. It’s the staff doing the nighttime rounds.
We’re fucked.
I jump from the bed with Holly in my arms and lie her back down against the mattress, throwing the blanket over her naked body. Quickly, I pick up my shirt, flick off the lamp on the table next to her, and hop across the room silently. I snugly slide into the little closet at the end of the room just as there’s a rap at the door.
“Hello?” Holly answers too loudly and too full of emotion for someone who’s supposed to be sleeping.
I hear the door open and a female voice is muffled but I can still make her out, “Everything ok in here?”
“Yeah, why?” Holly sounds guilty.
“I saw a light from your room and thought I heard some noise. Are you ok?” The woman persists.
“Yeah, I just went to the bathroom, no biggie,” Holly laughs nervously.
“If you’re sure?”
“I am.”
“Ok, then. Sleep well.”
I hear the door swing shut and Holly lets out a deep breath. I wait before moving a muscle. I’m not sure if the staff has left or if she’s hovering outside Holly’s door.
I hear Holly slide out of bed and make her way over to the closet. She pulls open the door with fear tattooed across her face. “That was close,” she hisses.
It was. Too close. If I got caught in here, Holly and I would both be kicked out. That would mean the end of my career, the end of her treatment, but most importantly: the end of us.
“You need to leave,” she looks up at me apologetically. My balls ache and, for a split second, I entertain the thought of getting caught and all that comes with it, if it means fucking her. Somehow I shake my head free from the thought.
No. I’ll go back to my room and take care of myself. It’s not worth the price. Not when it could cost me her.
I nod, and silently slip out of her room, down the hall, and back into my own bedroom. I can still taste her juices on my face, see her lips hovering over my cock, and feel her heat on my skin. I reach down under the blanket and take my dick in my hand. It’s not even close to being as good as it was with her, but it’ll have to do.
16|Holly
“I can’t believe it’s already been a month,” Jake mumbles, staring out the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the parking lot. “We’re halfway through this,” he pries his eyes from the cars filling up the usually empty spaces, and glances over to me.
“I know, it’s incredible,” I agree. I can’t help the smile that spreads over my face when I look at him. It’s automatic. I’ve never met someone who made me feel this happy.
I’ll have to add it to the long list of things I’ve denied myself over the years. H
appiness, sobriety, comfort, love. I guess I never thought I deserved any of it. I allowed a terrible mistake that took my sister’s life, to steal mine as well. I realize now, she wasn’t the only one who died that night. I may have still been walking and breathing, but I was only existing. A shell. My spirit left me that night along with hers. It’s only now, in this past month, that I’ve felt it return.
“Do you see your parents yet?” Jake nods toward the groups of people exiting the multitude of vehicles outside.
I scan the crowd, but don’t recognize anyone. “Nope, not yet.”
Those of us who are at the midway point of treatment are getting a visit from our families today. Before this, we hadn’t had any contact with them. I guess the idea is that they want us to focus solely on ourselves and our recovery, not the possible baggage that many of us have with our loved ones.
“I don’t see mine either,” Jake looks out the window quickly, as if to reconfirm what I just said.
Butterflies erupt into chaos inside me as my eyes travel slowly down his face. His deep blue eyes that stop time and blur the world around us, his pale pink lips under his sexy brown beard. My mind flashes back to the night he snuck into my room. To how amazing his lips felt between my thighs. Heat flashes through me, flushing my cheeks, and I bite my bottom lip. That was the most amazing feeling I’ve ever experienced.
I hate that we decided to cool it after that night. After almost getting caught, it was too close for comfort. We promised each other to practise some self-control and not have any more midnight visits. I’ve been tempted to go back on that promise every single night. However, I think it’s helped us both a lot to put more of our effort into this program and less into sneaking around. Even Jake, Mr. Tough Navy SEAL, seems to be taking it more seriously.
“Hey, what’s on your mind?” Jake smirks down at me.
I look down at my feet, knowing I’m a shit liar, “Nothing, why?”
“Nothing, huh?” His voice is like velvet. “Your eyes just glazed over and you’re blushing like crazy,” I can hear the amusement in his tone. “It doesn’t look like nothing from here,” he presses me.
I look up at him from under my eyelashes, feeling shy. “That night,” I whisper, determined to keep our secret from the nosy crowd of patients surrounding us.
“I love when you bite your lip like that,” Jake murmurs. I didn’t even realize that I was doing that. I immediately push my mouth closed and feel my skin burn with a deeper shade of red. “God you’re sexy,” he continues.
“Thank you,” my voice is weak, but my heartbeat is pounding strong. I can hear it rushing the blood in my ears.
Jake steps toward me, closing the already small gap between us, I breathe him in. He smells like coffee and a walk through a cedar forest after a heavy rain.
“I think about it every single day. And, when we get out of here,” he drops his voice so his words can only reach my ears, “I’m going to make that night look like amateur hour.” My nipples pebble under my shirt and my clit aches for him.
“I can’t wait,” I whisper, tucking my hair behind my ear, I look up into his face. I’ve never met a man who can make me wet from a simple look.
Jake looks around and takes a step back. The foot of space feels like a canyon between us, but I understand why he has to move away. We always have to be aware of how close we stand, how often we talk, how long we stare. Otherwise, it could mean the end.
“Hey, there’s my folks,” Jake’s voice returns to normal as he points to an elderly couple making their way to the building.
I scour the growing crowd at the front door for my own mother and father, but can’t make them out.
The receptionist out in the lobby buzzes open the front doors and the families begin to shuffle inside the main building.
“I should go see them,” Jake smiles down at me. “See ya later, ok?”
“Ok,” I smile and watch him strut across the lobby to greet his parents. They’re much shorter than him, even his father stands a good six inches smaller than he does. Of course, it’s not hard to feel like some kind of elvish creature next to Jake. He’s at least six-two, but feels a lot taller from the way his heavy, cut muscles fill his towering frame.
They walk away down the hall together and I redirect my attention to the crowd pouring into the building. My eyes laser in on the unfamiliar sea of faces, carefully watching each stranger enter the facility until it dries up into a slowly trickling stream. I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing here motionless, watching. My head twists like an owl, desperately searching for my parents. Instead, I see the last few people enter the building and cheerfully greet their daughter at the door. It’s the reception I haven’t had in years.
Tears fill the corners of my eyes and my gut knots as I spin around on my heel to look back out to the parking lot. I stare for too long, with my breath held, silently hoping that they’re just late to show up. That they’re just slow to get out of their car. That there’s some reason that they didn’t show up, other than the truth.
I gaze out the window like a puppy in a shelter for longer than I should. The realization finally hits like a tsunami, drowning me in despair. They aren’t here, and they aren’t coming.
They haven’t forgiven me. Even now, after I’ve tried to put my life back together and get clean. After so many years of us being apart.
They still don’t love me.
17|Jake
I lead my parents to one of the rooms normally reserved for group therapy. Today, they’ve been reassigned as a place for patients to talk to their family members, although not privately. I look around the room at the other people I’ve come to know sitting in here with their loved ones. It’s not exactly an intimate setting where you can pour out your soul. Not that I want to do that anyway.
I was annoyed when I found out I couldn’t just take my folks down to my room where we could grab some chairs and chat for a few hours. The staff here informed me that it’s another one of the rules that all visits are confined to public areas only. That way the roving counselors can check in on all of us and make sure nothing is getting too out of hand.
I think the real reason is that they don’t want people who haven’t seen their husbands or wives in over a month to turn this into a conjugal visit. I quickly look around the room for some empty seats. I spot a few available over by Mabel. I have to give her a second look, because her transformation is jarring. Usually she can be found shuffling down the halls in slippers, no matter the time of day, and baggy sweaters that could double as dresses. Today, she’s all dolled up, in a pale yellow dress. Her white hair is pulled up into a bun with tiny tendrils framing her face, like smoke rising up from a campfire. She’s even wearing makeup and, on her feet, where a fuzzy pair of pink slippers normally reside, she’s got a black pair of flats on.
Sitting next to Mabel is an old man wearing a sports jacket and dress pants. From the way he looks at her, I know without a doubt in my mind, that the reason we need to have our guests in public places is exactly the reason I suspected. They don’t want sweet, little Mabel and her horny husband getting filthy on their watch.
“Let’s grab those seats,” I point to the ones I’ve scouted and my parents comply. Mom seems pretty chipper; a big smile is pasted on her face. I know it’s her default mode that’s she’s slipped into right now, she’s not actually deliriously thrilled to be at a rehab facility visiting her son. She’s just putting on a brave face. I glance over at my father. It’s a lot more than I can say for the old man; his mouth is twisted down and his eyebrows are furrowed together as he glances around like he’s looking for someone to yell at.
“I’m glad you came,” I smile. “I know it was a really long way to travel. What do you think of British Columbia?” I make small talk.
“Oh, Jake, it’s really beautiful. It reminds me of when I was a little girl and your grandfather took the family on a trip down the Pacific Coast Highway. Just breathtaking, isn’t it Don?” Mom tries
to pull my father out of his funk and into the conversation.
“I guess.” He looks at his hands. He won’t look at me. When they first got here, I gave Mom a hug and held out my hand for Dad, but he wouldn’t shake it.
“How’s my superstar brother, Cameron, doing?” I plod onward, ignoring my father’s radiating anger.
“Oh, he got drafted by Miami,” Mom answers excitedly. He and Chelsea will be moving on down to Florida next month. It’s so exciting, isn’t it Don?”
“Sure is,” Dad’s voice is flat. He’s still staring down at his palms, like he never realized he had hands before and he’s trying to figure out how they work.
I take a peek around the room to see if any other families are having as much fun as mine. Most of them are either murmuring closely like Mabel and her man, or happily chatting away like the others in here. Not one is slumped over and sullen like my father.
“What about you Jake? I’ve been so worried about you,” my mother’s eyes fix on mine. I can see she’s not lying, under the layer of makeup she’s wearing, dark bags are still visible beneath each eye.
“I’m really doing well, Mom. Please, don’t worry.” I answer truthfully.
“It’s my job,” she smiles at me and, for the first time since she walked in here, it’s genuine.
“Is this a good program?” She continues, “Is it working?”
I will spare her the details about how long it has taken me to feel like this has been anything but a waste of time, rehab-wise. Obviously, my time here with Holly has been anything but. However, I don’t think she wants to hear about that either. Especially since Holly and I don’t have a real future together. The idea pains me, and I push it away.
Instead, I remember how, about a week ago, we had a guest speaker that put it all into perspective for me. Instead of the usual array of ex-addicts they parade in here to give us speeches about how much better their lives are now, they had a guest speaker I could relate to. A soldier.
Sure, he was a Canadian, so not exactly a SEAL, but we’re all brothers in arms. I sat up straighter when he talked about how his addiction started after he returned from duty. One thing he said really stuck with me, “Addiction is tricky, it starts for one reason. In my case, I needed to get out of my own head sometimes. However, even though it starts because of one particular cause, it always continues for another. It morphs. Takes you over. Until you’re not using because of shit you experienced or saw anymore. You’re using because you’re an addict.”
Tinder Ella: A Modern Day Single Dad Fairy-Tale Page 50
