Always Wanting (Consumed, Book One 1)

by Alex Grayson

  I don’t even need to ask. I know this is some weird role-play thing Ava and this guy did, but she enlightens me anyway.

  “I caught Santa dropping off gifts and seduced him,” she supplies, a glazed look in her eyes. “It just so happened that he had a bag full of naughty toys.”

  I laugh and push her phone away. She giggles, and after looking at the screen longingly for several more seconds, she sets the device down on the table, just as Beatrice walks up with a pot of tea and two Italian subs.

  We eat, and I listen to her talking about mundane things that have happened recently. My mind keeps wandering back to last night, to what happened between Blue and me, and my conversation with Nathan outside my apartment. A weight settles in my chest once again at knowing Blue and I can never have something real. He’s made me feel more than anyone has before, and I want so badly to explore it, see where it could go. He settles the erratic need I constantly have by just a touch. Even after I have sex, the need still lingers. But with Blue, the pain and restless need I constantly feel recedes, like being with him completely satisfies my urges. I still want him when we’re finished, but it’s not a painful need. His touch is magic, but I know it won’t last. It can’t. I’m defective.

  “So, what happened last night?” Ava asks, pulling me back to the present.

  I shake my head and push back the images of Blue’s hands on me. I drop my half-eaten sandwich on my plate, my appetite suddenly gone.

  “Nothing,” I lie. I really don’t want to talk about Blue. I’m trying to forget about him, and I know if I tell Ava what’s going on, she’ll force me to talk. “I went home with a guy last night, like usual.”

  She looks at me with suspicion, and I hold her stare, not giving anything away.

  “You normally tell us when you’re leaving, and who you’re leaving with. You didn’t last night.”

  “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. We left out the back door. I didn’t have time to tell y’all.”

  She doesn’t believe me. I can tell by the way her eyes narrow. Ava is one of my closest friends, and I normally don’t keep stuff from her, but I’m still not changing my story. I’m already in a rotten mood, and talking about it will only make it worse. I need to accept my sorry fate, before I can share it with anyone else.

  She must sense my determination to keep my mouth shut, because she lets it go and changes the subject, but not to one much better.

  “What time are we meeting at Blackie’s tonight?” she asks.

  “I’m not going to Blackie’s tonight.”

  “Oh?” Her eyebrows raise to hide under her bangs. “You want to go to that new place down on Henderson Street? I’m sure you’re running out of options at Blackie’s.”

  My hands tighten on my tea cup when I say, “I’m not going out tonight.”

  “Ahh…” she nods and smiles knowingly, as if she understands. “You have someone lined up already.”

  “Nope.” I drop my eyes down to my cup, looking at the dregs at the bottom.

  “Nathan or Tegan?” she asks.

  “No. I’m staying in tonight.”

  “Abby—”

  “To experiment.”

  She looks worried when I look up at her. She has every right to be. Ever since her and I met, I’ve never tried ignoring my addiction. I have in the past, before I met her, and before the support groups, but once we—meaning Nathan, Tegan, and I—decided to embrace our sexual vices and leave the meetings that weren’t helping us behind, I’ve always openly pursued men to take care of my needs.

  “What brought this on?” Her question is asked quietly.

  I shrug and give her a little bit of what I’m feeling. “I’m just tired of the same old thing. I’m tired of having sex with different men every night. I’m tired of sex, period.” The last isn’t true. I’m just tired of sex with any man, except Blue. “It’s been a while since I’ve tried going without. It’s about time I try again, just to see if I can do it.”

  She looks doubtful. She’s seen me at my darkest, when the cramps are so unbearable that they bring me to my knees. When I sweat so much, it soaks my clothes, and the shakes that rack my body, the vomiting, and the anger that takes control. I know I’m probably setting myself up for an extremely painful night, but I’m determined to see if I can handle it. I need to know if I can force my addiction back. Not just because if I can, there may be a chance for me and Blue, but for my own peace of mind.

  “I’m coming over tonight,” she says, chewing on her bottom lip. She doesn’t want me to go through this by myself.

  “Thank you, Ava,” I tell her sincerely. “But I need to do this on my own.”

  “Abby, you shouldn’t be alone. You know it’s going to get bad.”

  My heart clenches at the anxious tone of her voice. I reach over and grab her hand, linking our fingers together.

  “This is something I need to do. You have no idea how much it means to me that you want to be there, but please, I need this.”

  After several seconds, she nods in understanding.

  I squeeze her hand, then let go.

  “Thank you.”

  “But call me if you need me,” she adds sternly. “Have you told Nathan or Tegan? One of them needs to be on standby if things get too hard.”

  I smile, loving that she’s so concerned about me. She really is a good friend.

  “Not yet. I’m calling Nathan when we leave here. It was sort of a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

  She nods, then leans across the table, bringing her face closer to mine to talk quietly. “I know there’s more that’s going on. I get you don’t want to talk right now, but when you are ready, you know I’m only a call away, right? I’m always here for you.”

  “I know.” I avert my eyes and take a deep breath, before facing her again. “Just give me a few days. I’m going through shit right now that I need to figure out first.”

  “Okay,” she agrees softly, not at all offended I’m keeping secrets from her. I have my suspicions that she carries her own secrets she hasn’t told anyone about.

  The mood for food gone, we decide to call it a night. We pay our bill and walk out of the diner together. Before heading to our cars, she pulls me in for a hug.

  “Promise you’ll call me if you need me, and Nathan if the pain gets to be too much. And call me tomorrow to tell me how it went,” she says against my ear.

  I kiss her cheek and pull back. “I promise to all three.”

  She searches my eyes for the truth. Once she’s satisfied with what she finds, she steps back.

  We say our good-byes and move to our cars. I sit in silence for several minutes before pulling out my phone and shooting Nathan a quick message, not giving details, but letting him know I may need him tonight. He responds that he’ll be there if I need him. I lean my head back against the headrest and blow out a breath. Tonight is going to be a long night, but I’m bound and determined to do what needs to be done.

  “Oh God, please make it stop,” I moan through the pain gripping my stomach.

  It’s never been this bad before. I can barely breathe through the pain. Each breath in and out alternates between feeling like a million tiny dull knifes are scraping my insides, to sharp needles puncturing every surface of my skin. I draw my knees closer to my chest and tighten my arms around them, shivering uncontrollably. I’m not sure if it’s my regular shaking or if it’s because of the blast of icy cold water raining down on me. I’m naked in the shower because my body felt like it was on fire, and I needed to cool off. The water is no longer helping. Now it just feels like small drops of lava are being poured all over me. My head pounds and tears drip down my cheeks, mingling with the water.

  I want to move, I want to get out, but I’m so fucking scared. I barely made it to the shower in the first place. The cramps were so bad that I literally had to crawl my way into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before emptying my stomach.

  Why the hell did I decide to put myself through
this? I should have known better. I should have known this wouldn’t work because I’ve tried this before. I don’t know if this time is worse, or if I’ve just forgotten the pain of not giving my godforsaken body what it craves.

  I try to clench my teeth shut, but they still manage to chatter together. I’m surprised I haven’t chipped any. You know when you’re so cold that your body is constantly spasming to get your blood flowing to warm your body? Yeah, that’s me right now. My entire body is starting to cramp from the rigid way I’ve been holding it for the past twenty minutes.

  I feel so goddamn hopeless. I don’t even have my phone with me to call for help. All I can do is sit here and pray the city runs out of water soon. I silently laugh at myself with that thought. I’m so fucking stupid.

  I drop my head on my knees and cry out when the slight movement causes a well of pain to go through my chest and stomach. I cry, but I try to do it softly, so my body doesn’t move from my sobbing, making the pain worse.

  My fuddled mind turns to Blue. I see his gorgeous Caribbean blue eyes staring at me, and it brings a new pain to my chest, one that has nothing to do with my body’s need for fulfillment. This pain is focused on me accepting once and for all that there’s no way we could ever work out. I feel like my world is cracking in two, and I’m being torn into pieces. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted this to work, until I realized it never would. I’m mourning something that never really started.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I sit as still as I can and wish for the coldness of the water to numb my body, to take away the pain that’s slowly destroying me, knowing that it’s a wish that won’t come true.

  Chapter Seven

  Colt

  Leaning back in my leather office chair, I laugh at the picture Asher just painted in my head. He and his wife, Poppy, just got back from their honeymoon to Texas. Apparently, Asher was trying to show off his horse riding skills to Poppy and didn’t do a good job of it when he fell and broke his coccyx. I’m not laughing because my friend got hurt, I’m laughing because he had to ride back, hanging over the side of the horse.

  “So, what you’re saying is you broke your ass?”

  The image of Asher riding on the back of a horse with his ass in the air brings another bout of laughter.

  “Laugh it up, asshole,” he grumbles. “Have you ever broken your tailbone before? That shit hurts.”

  “Yeah, but I bet you’re eating up all the attention you’re getting from Poppy.”

  His chuckle sounds across the line. “I am. She’s actually massaging it right now.” His laugh gets deeper, and I hear Poppy scolding him in the background.

  A smile tips up my lips when I think back to when Asher first saw Poppy. She was in my office building for a job interview. One look at her, and he was utterly hooked. He demanded I not hire her, to send her to his office instead. I did, but it wasn’t until a year later, after literally obsessing over her, that he finally made his move. From what he said, he did some pretty shitty stuff to ensure Poppy fell in love with him, things that most women cringe over and never forgive. After working his ass off to show Poppy he truly loved her, and after his bastard friend nearly killed her, she finally forgave him. That was six months ago. Asher didn’t waste any time getting a ring on her finger. I can’t blame him, though. Poppy seems like a very special lady.

  “I’ve got a new venture I just bought into,” I tell him, getting back to the reason I called. “I need a system set up in a week. I know it’s short notice, but do you think it’s doable?”

  “Come by the office Thursday, and we’ll work out the logistics.”

  “I appreciate it.” I sit up and mark a reminder down on my calendar, then throw the pen back on the desk. “So, besides breaking your ass, how was the honeymoon?” I inquire through a chuckle.

  “Not long enough,” he groans, then I hear a murmured, “Give me a minute, Beautiful.” There’s a shuffling sound, and another muffled groan, before he says quietly, “I got a call from the Georgia Department of Corrections. Eric hung himself last week.”

  My hands ball into fists at the name. Eric was more Asher’s friend than mine; they were friends before I came into the picture. My anger isn’t for myself, but for Asher and Poppy. The motherfucker became sickly obsessed with Poppy and tried to kill her right in front of Asher when he realized that Poppy would never pick him over Asher. Luckily, Asher was smart enough to put a protection detail on Poppy when she started receiving strange phone calls. His trial was swift, and he was sentenced to forty years in prison for the murder of Brice, the guy Poppy’s friends had watch over her, and the attempted murder of Poppy. I’m glad the bastard is dead. I just wish his death was more painful.

  “How is Poppy taking it?” I ask, knowing she also felt the betrayal of what Eric did. She worked with the guy for almost a year, and never knew what he was capable of. I can’t imagine how Asher felt, knowing he was friends with a twisted asshole like that, and had almost made him partner in his company.

  “She’s fine most of the time, but I think she feels guilty for the relief she feels.”

  That’s Poppy for you. She’s sweet, kind, and caring, and the type of person that would feel guilt where it wasn’t due.

  “I’m just glad the son of a bitch is gone,” Asher adds darkly.

  “I don’t blame you there.”

  We talk for a few more minutes, mostly about business, until I sense Poppy has come back into the room. Asher’s words become distracted.

  “Go, let your girl take care of you. I’ll see you Thursday.”

  We hang up, and I drop my phone to the desk. Glancing at my watch, I notice it’s after seven. Today’s been a long day, and I’m tired. I stretch my arms over my head to try to release some of the tension in my shoulders. Closing my eyes, last night comes to mind. My jaw hardens and my blood boils in my veins. I want to be pissed at her, I am pissed at her, but some niggle in the back of my head tells me something’s not right. I thought last night I would find out what is was, but when I came back from my shower, she was gone. Poof. Left me without a word, after seducing me with her body. I now have a fist-sized hole in my wall that I have to patch up when I get home.

  I barely held onto the urge to follow her home and demand she tell me what was wrong with her earlier that night, but knew my anger at her leaving would probably have me being a dick. I’m not normally someone that loses their temper, but this woman pushes every button I have. Instead, I went to bed, my body flushed from my anger, and attempted to sleep. It was a fruitless effort, so I got up a couple hours later and went for a two mile, middle-of-the-night jog. I finally fell into bed, exhausted, and slept a restless sleep, images of the pained look on Abby’s face keeping me from falling into a deep slumber.

  I stretch my legs out in front of me, feeling my muscles aching for rest. All day long, she’s the only thing I’ve thought of.

  My eyes land on a contract on my desk that I still need to sign. It’s for a company that sells coolers that freeze the item placed inside within seconds. The company is struggling financially, and came to me for help. I’m the financial guru that companies come to when they want another company to invest in their product. If I like what I see, and we can come to an agreement, I buy into the company, set them up financially, and take my cut.

  According to my lawyer, the contract before me is solid, it just needs my signature, but I always like to go over them myself a few more times before I invest hundreds of thousands of dollars. I was supposed to do that today, but a certain hard-headed blonde has taken over my thoughts recently. I’ve known the woman for four days, but she’s been in my head like I’ve known her my whole life. I can’t fucking shake her.

  Running my hands down my face, I decide to call it a night. I’m not in the right frame of mind to read legal documents. I shut down my laptop, get up, and grab my suit jacket off the back of the chair, slipping my phone in my pocket as I walk to the door. I don’t bother with shutting off the lights as I walk throu
gh the office building. The cleaning crew will take care of it.

  The lights on my truck flash when I unlock my door. Throwing my jacket on the passenger seat, I climb behind the wheel, and just sit there. Indecision has my hands gripping the steering wheel. I’m not sure why, but I’ve got an uncontrollable urge to go see Abby. I shouldn’t. I should just go home and forget all about the damn woman, but something’s plaguing me. Some unknown force demands I go see her one more time before I write her off. And that’s my plan. She’s too complicated to have something real with. She obviously has a thing for having sex by the way she practically clawed her way up my body last night. I certainly wasn’t complaining; the girl can fuck like a dream, but there’s something about her that throws me for a loop. She has issues, and that’s one thing I don’t need in my life right now. I don’t have time to deal with them, nor do I want to. I don’t know this girl enough to take on whatever her problems are.

  Throwing my car in drive, I head out and make the thirty-minute drive towards Abby’s place. I’ll talk with her. And I will have my questions answered, because now it’s more of a need rather than a want to know what her problem is. Maybe have one last fuck session with her—hey, I’m a guy—and leave.

  I tell myself this over and over as I trek up the stairs to her apartment. My heart beats heavily in my chest at the prospect of seeing her again, while dread and sorrow form in my stomach at knowing it’ll be the last time. I stop in front of her door for several minutes, working up the courage to lift my hand to knock. I don’t understand why I’m having such a hard time getting this over with. The woman means nothing to me, except a hot fuck.

  With a low growl of frustration, I push my troubled thoughts aside and knock. And then wait. After several seconds of silence on her side of the door, I knock again. I noted her car in the parking lot, so she has to be here, right? I knock once more, this time a bit louder—maybe she’s in her bedroom and it’s hard to hear from there—and receive nothing in return.