by Alex Grayson
I nod, figuring that would be her answer. My next question, I’m going to hate the answer to because I already know it, but it’s something I need to ask.
“There has to be times you can’t find someone…” My question trails off. She understands what I’m getting at, though. Her body stiffens, and she looks back down at my shirt, avoiding my eyes.
She doesn’t answer my question, proving that I won’t like her response. Her fingers follow the path of my happy trail, until she reaches the waist of my pants. I stop her movements with my hand.
“Just tell me, Abby,”
Her hand balls into a fist against my stomach, and I can practically feel the uncomfortable feeling radiating off her.
“Nathan and Tegan, but mainly Nathan.” She says it so quietly, I almost don’t hear her. “When I can’t find someone, I call them. They’re always there when I need them.”
I close my eyes, trying to push back the anger I feel. It’s not her fault and it’s not Nathan’s, but I don’t like knowing she’s close friends with a guy she’s slept with repeatedly. A guy that she’ll continue to be friends with. A guy she’ll call on if I’m not around, or if she pushes me away.
Abby senses my inner struggle and doesn’t like it, because she asks me a question next, her voice angry.
“Would you rather me be in pain like I was last night? Or maybe call an escort service?”
The image of her having sex by a paid man heightens my anger even more. Fuck no! I push back the anger and force my body to relax. My fingers go to her hair, and I sift them through it. A wave of her shampoo assaults my senses, helping to calm the rage.
“No.”
“Good, because the thought of paying someone to have sex with me makes me sick. I may not have control over what my body needs, but I’ll never give up control of who I get to appease that need.”
My arms squeeze her tighter to me.
“Now, it’s my turn to say something, but I need to sit up and do it. I don’t want you touching me when I say what I have to say.”
She gets up, and I let her. I scoot up until my back rests against the arm of the couch while she does the same. She tucks her legs up to her chest, like she’s trying to put distance between us. I don’t like it, but I let her get away with it. If space is what she needs to say what she needs to, then I’ll give it to her, for now.
Once she’s comfortable, she brings her eyes to mine. They hold a determined look, and I brace myself.
“Why do you keep pushing this?” she asks, not needing to clarify what she’s talking about. “Why are you so determined to start something that you and I both know could never be?”
“Why are you so determined to believe that we can’t?” I counter.
She rolls her eyes, like my response is ridiculous. The feeling is mutual with hers. She doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know that when I want something I go after it, not letting anything get in my way of reaching it.
“Really, Blue? Do you not see how this is impossible?” She gestures between us with a wave of her hand. “Do you really want a sex fiend for a girlfriend, knowing she could, at any minute, be out sleeping with another guy?”
I don’t let her words get to me. I have no doubt it’ll be tough if we start a real relationship, but what couple doesn’t have bumps along the way? Yes, ours might be bumpier than others, but everything worth having never comes easy.
“Would you ever purposely cheat on me?” I ask.
“No, of course not,” she answers defensively. “I may be a lot of things, but a cheat isn’t one of them.”
“So, if there ever were a time I couldn’t be there for you, you would at least try to stave off the cravings until I could?”
She huffs out a breath, obviously not liking my line of questioning, but answers anyway.
“Yes, but Blue, when those cramps start and I become delirious, I can’t promise what might happen. Sometimes, I’m so out of it, I don’t realize what I’m doing.”
“I trust you.”
“Well, you’re stupid.”
I smile. “I’ll take that chance.”
She blows out a frustrated breath and throws her hands in the air, before letting them slap back down on her thighs.
I scoot closer to her and her eyes narrow in warning. I stop just before my leg meets her feet.
“Do you want a relationship with me, Abby?”
She looks at me, and I can see the answer in her eyes before she says anything. I can see the desperate longing, and right then, I know I’m doing the right thing. I want this woman more than I’ve ever wanted another. It’s crazy and stupid, because we haven’t known each other long. Neither of us know much about the other, but we’ve both felt the pull.
“Yes,” she whispers. I know she’s been hurt in the past. The need to prove to her that I won’t is as uncontrollable as when her body takes over and demands she satisfy it with sex.
“Then give us a chance. I promise to try my hardest to be there when you need me, and if the time comes that I can’t, we’ll work around it. I know there will be hard times, I don’t expect it to be easy, but don’t you deserve happiness, just as much as I do? We could be happy together, Abby, if you’ll just say yes and take that leap with me.”
I wait, my breath caught in my throat. If she says no, I won’t give up trying. I’ll be more determined than ever, but I fervently hope she’ll say yes. I don’t know what it is about this girl, but for some unknown reason, I know she’s supposed to be in my life.
After several seconds, the indecision fades away from her face and a look of determination replaces it. My fucking heart sings, and I breathe easy when she says, “Yes.”
“Thank fuck,” I mutter, and reach out for her. “Now, get your ass over here.” I haul her laughing form into mine and have us lying with me on top of her before she realizes what’s hit her.
Chapter Ten
Abby
I juggle the bags in one hand as I try to quickly unlock my apartment door with the other. Once I manage to get it unlocked, I rush to the kitchen and deposit the bags on the counter, just as my phone starts to ring again. Blowing my hair out of my face, I swipe the screen without looking at it.
“Hello?”
“Abby, dear, are you okay?” my mom asks in my ear.
“I’m fine, Mom.” I walk over to the counter and start unloading the groceries from the bags.
“Why are you out of breath?” she questions suspiciously.
I love my mom, but she’s nosy.
“I was rushing to get inside my apartment because my phone was ringing.”
I put the phone to my shoulder as I carry over a couple boxes of mac and cheese, and several cans of soup to the pantry, before going back for more.
“Oh.” She laughs with apparent relief. “I was worried I caught you in the middle of… something.”
I come to a halt and sputter out my own laugh. My mom’s got to be the only mom in the world who would think I would answer my phone when she was calling, while having sex. If she only knew I keep my extracurricular activities to nighttime hours.
“You don’t ever have to worry about that. I would not be answering the phone if I were having sex, especially if you’re calling.”
I walk back to the counter and start pulling out fridge items.
Her laugh is strained when she replies. “That’s good to know. How have you been?”
“Just great,” I answer. “The same as always.”
“I’ve got news…” she trails off, and I hear the wariness in her voice.
“What’s that?” I lean back against the fridge, pretending like I didn’t hear the hesitation.
“Nina, she’s uh… she’s pregnant.”
A piercing pain hits my chest, right where my heart sits. I close my eyes and count to ten, before I open them and move back to the counter. I’ve lied to my family. They believe I can’t have kids because I have a defect that prevents it. I don’t want them to know that it’s my
choice not to have them. That I can’t have a real relationship to have them. They still don’t know of my addiction, and as far as I’m concerned, they never will. I know deep in my heart they’ll never judge me or look at me differently, but I still don’t want them to know.
An image of Blue flashes through my mind, followed by me standing by him as he holds a dark-haired baby. It’s ours, I know it is, but it’s a stupid fantasy, so I push it away.
“This is great!” I say cheerily. “I’m so happy for her and Jeremy! How far along is she?” I know my voice sounds a little too high, as I try to hide the pain I’m feeling.
“Abigail—”
“No, Mom,” I say a little too harshly, before trying again. “I’m fine, really. This is wonderful news. Now, tell me how far along she is, please.”
It takes her several seconds before she decides to let it go. I’m glad she does, because I don’t want to talk about something so painful right now. This is about my sister, and I’m happy for her.
“Six weeks. She wanted to tell you herself, but was worried it would upset you.”
I stuff some frozen cheese raviolis in the freezer. “You tell her I’m just fine, and that I’m happy for them both. Let her know I expect her to scan the ultrasound to my phone. I wanna see the little peanut.”
“You could always come visit and see it in person,” my mom remarks nonchalantly, likes it’s no big deal that she asked me to visit.
I lean my forehead against the freezer door and take several deep breaths. This is why I don’t like talking to my family. They are always trying to get me to come visit. There’s nothing I would love more than to go see them, I miss them so much, but it’s difficult to come up with excuses why I can’t have dinner with them, or why I have to leave the house for hours at a time at night. Why I choose to stay in a hotel, versus staying in my childhood home. In the last eight years, I’ve only visited them a handful of times, and each and every time, it’s hard to leave, but it’s also hard to see them, knowing I’m holding this secret. They’ve come out to visit me as well a few times, but again, I have to come up with excuses why I disappear at night.
“I can’t,” I lie, and use my current made up excuse. “I’ve got work, and then night classes.” In an attempt to stave off the requests for me to come visit, I’ve told them I’m studying for a degree in elementary education. They know my love of working with kids, so it wasn’t hard to convince them. But I still get the sense they know something is off with my excuses.
“What about during the weekends?” she asks, hopeful.
“I’m taking weekend classes as well. The program I’m in allows students to obtain their degree early if you take extra classes.”
“Oh.” She can’t hide the disappointment, and shame hits me. I hate lying to them, and I hate even more that I’m a coward and refuse to talk to them about my problems. I know it’s a weak excuse, and I’ll have to come up with a reason why I don’t have a degree when the time comes. I can’t very well go to school for the rest of my life.
“As soon I get a break from classes, I’ll come for a visit,” I tell her, and this time, it’s the truth. It’s been over a year, and I desperately want to see them.
“That’s great, honey!” she exclaims, perking up. “I can’t wait. We’ve all missed you.”
“I’ve missed you guys too. Love you, Mom.”
I force back the tears that want to break free.
“Love you too, Abigail.”
After we hang up several minutes later, my heart heavy, I finish putting away the rest of the groceries. It’s been two weeks since Blue and I officially started dating, and tonight is the first night he’s meeting my friends. It’s not that I didn’t want him to meet them sooner, I just wanted to make sure we had a decent start at dating before I introduced them. Luckily, the last two weeks have been easy. I know Blue has a business, and as most decent businessmen are known to do, they normally work long hours, but Blue is always at my house thirty minutes after I get home from work, or is calling me to come to his. I’ve reminded him the urges don’t come until later in the evening, but he insists. My heart melts because I know it’s not because of my needs that has him wanting to meet early, but because he wants to be with me.
It’s the weekend, and we’re doing an early dinner at Suzie’s. I’m nervous, especially with Blue and Nathan meeting. I saw the anger on Blue’s face when I told him I’ve had sex with Nathan before, when I needed someone. I couldn’t really blame him, but luckily, he saw my point of view on the matter and accepted it. Nathan is also very protective of me. He knows the struggle I’ve gone through, and as much as he wants to see me happy, he also wants to make sure the guy is the right one for me.
An hour later, I’m just finishing my make-up, when my doorbell rings. Putting my mascara back in my make-up case, I grab my earrings and slip them on as I walk to the door. Checking to make sure it’s Blue, I pull open the door, and am swept away in a wave of lust at seeing him standing there in a pair of dark wash blue jeans, a white V-neck shirt, sunglasses hanging from the V of the shirt, and a pair of Oxfords. My eyes eat up every inch of him. Wetness floods my skimpy pink panties, and not from the incessant cravings, but purely from the incredibly sexy man standing in front of me.
“What time are we supposed to meet your friends?” The question comes out gruff.
“An hour,” I respond breathlessly, liking the look in his eyes.
He steps through the door and slams it shut behind him. “We have time,” he growls, and grabs me around the waist, hauling me against his firm chest.
Our lips meet and tangle in a scorching hot kiss. Ever since I got over the initial shock of kissing Blue, I haven’t been able to get enough of his delicious mouth. It’s like I’ve been starved for years, and his taste is my life saving meal.
I slip my tongue against his and relish in the minty taste. He angles my head to the side, and we both devour each other.
I place my hands on his chest and shove him back. We break apart, and he looks at me with confusion.
“I want to taste you.”
His lips tip up into a smirk. “You just were, baby.”
I glance down at his apparent hard-on before looking back at him. His eyes flare with heat.
I shake my head and say bluntly, “I want you to fuck my mouth.”
He doesn’t answer verbally, but instead, reaches back and whips off his shirt, then starts on the button and fly on his jeans. Once his jeans are kicked to the side, he fists his cock and gives it a few strokes. A pearly drop of precum appears at the tip. I lick my lips in anticipation.
“Knees, Abby.”
I give him a sultry smile and walk slowly toward him, making sure to sway my hips. He’s still stroking his shaft, and it’s making my body ache.
Once I’m standing in front of him, I start at the base of his throat and trail a nail down his chest, across one nipple, and down his abs, until I reach the base of his cock. He hisses and tenses, and I look up at him through my lashes with a smirk.
“Do you want your cock in my mouth?”
“You’re the one that said you wanted me to fuck your mouth.”
I nod, and scrape my nails along his length.
“I did, but I want to know if you want it?” I ask, and watch the heat ramp up in his eyes. He’s panting now.
“You fucking know I do.”
I rub my thumb along the tip, smearing the precum over the head. “Are you going to fuck my mouth good? Shove your cock down my throat until I gag?” I taunt him, knowing I’m driving him crazy.
“Sweet fuck, woman. If you don’t get to your knees, I’m going to do a lot more than shove my dick down your throat.”
I laugh, the sound rough with desire, before dropping to my knees. We both keep our eyes on each other as he angles his cock at my lips.
I flick my tongue out and barely graze the tip. Another bead of precum forms, and I lap it up like a kitten laps up cream. The taste is divine, and I want m
ore. I grip the base of his shaft and give him a firm stroke, and am satisfied when another drop appears.
I take the head and wrap my lips around it, giving it a few good sucks and swipes with my tongue.
His hands thread through my hair and tugs.
“Open your mouth wider,” he growls, his tone sending shivers down my spine. I love his voice when we have sex. It’s deep and guttural, and so goddamn sexy.
I do as he bids and open my mouth wider. His fingers tighten in my hair, and draws my head closer. He slides inside and glides along my tongue, until he reaches the back of my throat. I swallow and my throat muscles tighten around his head. My body hums at his pleasured hiss.
After pulling him from my mouth, I nip the tip, before sliding him back inside all the way to the back of my throat again, sticking the tip of my tongue out to lick at the edge of his balls. The bite of pain from him gripping my hair so tightly has more of my own desire leaking out. My panties are drenched, and my pussy is demanding some attention.
Grabbing the base of his shaft, I start moving my mouth up and down the full length in fast movements. He grunts and groans. My hand is slick from my saliva, so I use it to slide along where my mouth isn’t currently stroking him.
“Open wider, baby, I want to see what my cock looks like in your mouth.”
I widen my mouth as much as I can, allowing a small gap in between his cock and my lips. He watches as he slowly moves his hips forward. With my mouth open, spit drips from the corners and dribbles down my chin. This seems to excite him even more, because his thrusts become stronger, surer.
I slip one of my hands down between my legs. I’m wearing a skirt, and have my legs spread wide, so slipping my hand in my panties is easy. At the first contact of my fingers along my slick folds, I moan, which vibrates along his cock. He growls deeply and rams his hips forward, causing me to gag, which again brings on the tightening of my throat, making his growls become stronger. It’s a delicious cycle.