Too bad. Dar’s right. If I didn’t know the guy so well, and he wasn’t a prospect for the MC, he’d probably make a damn fine boy toy. But a Lone Breed ol’ lady I am not. That much I know.
“You don’t have to dissolve, do you?” I ask, settling into a somewhat comfortable position on top of him.
“Already mixed and ready to go.” He lifts me, one hand anchored to my waist, as he digs into his pocket with his other. I try not to think about how good his movements feel against me…and am relieved when he pulls out the tiny vial. “Reach into the glove box.”
I do as requested, with difficulty, since I have to twist awkwardly to get my hand in the compartment. But I find the plastic wrapped syringes easily. “You should really hide these better.” I hand him two. “Where did you get these?”
“A local diabetic store. Much less suspicious than a clinic.” Unwrapping one syringe, he looks up at me. “And that’s my go-to claim if I ever get questioned by the po-po here. I’m diabetic. So don’t fear, baby.” He grins.
I huff a laugh, but it’s forced, my undivided attention on Jesse’s hands as he sticks the needle into the top of the vial. My skin is already tingling in anticipation. My hands sweaty, and my jaw clenched as tight as the muscles of my stomach.
Last time.
“You need a tie off?” he asks. “Since it’s been a minute, I might be able to find a vein no problem…but if you’d rather not chance the nasty bubble—”
“Uh, yeah,” I say absently. I reach over to the driver’s seat and grab my tote. I find a hair band and wrap it around my forearm, just above my elbow. “It’s too dark to see.”
Jesse licks his lips and holds my arm out between us. He flicks the center of my arm a couple of times, waits for a vein to appear. “They look good. Guess it was smart to lay off for a while. I can find one no problem.”
I nod. Anyone else, I’d have called bullshit. But for this one thing, I trust Jesse completely. He wouldn’t stick me if he couldn’t find a vein. He knows the pain I suffered the one time I missed, and a bubble the size of a small almond popped up on my hand. It was so fucking painful I actually cried. It didn’t go away for weeks.
But that fear is not enough to keep me from IV’ing in the dark in a parked tin can of a car on top of one of my best friends. The rush is just too great a temptation. And like I promised myself—this is the very last time.
I feel a quick pinch, and I watch as he inserts the needle deeper, the tube of saline and coke turning pink as some of my blood swirls into the mix. Pale pink. It’s a beautiful color. My favorite. And as the first effects of the drug hit my system, my head falls back. It’s warm. Tingling at first. Then the burn hits. But it’s such a sweet burn. I can feel it traveling through me, instantly hitting my heart. Which beats wildly.
“Wow,” I say. “This isn’t cut much, huh?” I close my eyes and envision the firing synapses exploding across my lids like white-hot livewires thrashing my brain. Tracers swim across my blacked-out vision. My head lightens, no gravity. Then—
Perfectly…
Euphorically…
Numb.
I hear Jesse’s deep laugh. “It’s pretty damn pure.” He grunts, and I know he’s taking his own hit.
I force my head forward and open my eyes. “What are you doing, Jess?”
He doesn’t have to tie off. His veins—though having been worked over pretty hard—always show. I guess that’s the perk of being a guy and having muscles.
“I doubt I have anything to worry about with you,” he says, using the same syringe he just used on me. “Do I?” Removing the needle from his arm, he flicks his gaze up, his dark eyes almost black as his pupils dilate.
I’m too transfixed in the moment to answer. And I’m not even worried about what his question was. It’s lost, floating out and then above my head, off into the sea of stars above us.
“Damn…” He sighs. “I told you. It’s always better with you, Mel.”
My insides flutter. Whether from his compliment or the high taking over my whole body, I’m not sure. But I take it all in, reveling in the weightlessness, the numbness, which I can only obtain in these brief moments.
“You better stop that,” Jesse warns.
“What?” I say, continuing to run my fingers through my hair. I hadn’t noticed I’d been doing it.
“Wriggling on top of me like that.” He lays both hands on either side of my thighs, and warmth spreads over my skin, seeping right through my flesh. Right into my core. “You know how fucking horny I get.”
My hand drops from my hair and I laugh. It’s true. The first time we ever shot blow together, we ended up fucking. But that was back when he was just a hangaround to the MC. I’ve learned since to occupy him with other things…but right now, this close to him and feeling just how turned on he’s getting—the bulge beneath me getting hard and pressing against my clit—it’s kind of difficult to think of anything else.
He groans, long and deep. His fingers splay over my thighs, the tips of them just inching under my jean skirt. “Ya know,” he says, and I watch as his hooded gaze travels over my body and up to my eyes. “This being your last time…you should really go out with a bang.” He bucks his hips.
A laugh slips from my mouth. “You would say something so crass, you—” But my comeback is clipped short as I feel his hands roaming farther up, along my inner thighs. “Jesse…” I try to get the words to form, but they’re lodged in my throat. Stuck there with my fading willpower.
He moves beneath me, rearing his crotch. His rough mechanic’s palms press down on my legs, grinding me against him. “You feel so damn good,” he whispers, and my freakin’ nether regions explode with heat. The tips of his fingers graze my center, just caressing atop my underwear, and an ache begins to throb deep inside.
My eyes close as I bear down harder on him, eliciting a guttural noise from his throat. His groan reverberates through every nerve in my body, simultaneously firing off waves of heat and shivers.
My hands seek his chest, and soon they’re under his tank and wandering over his hard abs. I stop cold. “We shouldn’t do this. You know we shouldn’t.”
His fingers push my underwear aside, and as he runs one tip down my seam, finding my clit, I suck in a sharp breath. Everything feels heightened and on edge—senses at their peak of pleasure.
“Show me your tits,” he says, his voice a husky boom.
Only Jesse could make that sentence sound as sexy as it does. And damn, it sounds so sexy. I pull my hands from his chest and grip the bottom of my fitted shirt. Then I tug it above the round swells of my bra.
“I love your titties, Mel. You’re so fucking hot.” One of his hands leaves my thigh to grasp my breast. He cups it and massages, quickly working it over the top of my pink bra. His hair grazes my chin as silky warmth envelops my nipple. He takes me into his hot mouth and flicks the tip with his tongue. Every nerve ending in my body reacts, rocketing out of control.
As he works his mouth all around my breast, his fingers dip inside me, the rough pads of his fingers a pleasurable friction against my slick, swollen flesh. I grab the back of his neck, pull him closer, pushing him in deeper. His thumb rubs my clit as his fingers slide in farther, kneading the throbbing center that’s now begging for something more.
My mind is hazy and my body thrums. A tiny, irritating noise at the back of my brain beckons for attention over the whoosh filling my ears. But it’s so distant, just a dribble among the downpour washing me away.
Jesse’s mouth goes to my neck. His arm wraps around my back, his hand latching on to my shoulder. He pulls me closer to him as his fingers get me off. And I’m so there…
“I want to fuck you so bad right now.” His words are low and hot against my skin. They burn with the same consuming fire as the coke coursing through my veins. “Let me fuck that tight little pussy, Mel. Ram my cock in and pump you so hard…shit—” he bites off. “Christ, I have to fuck you.”
And it’s all I wan
t in this second, too. Just to feel him filling me and taking me over the edge. Amplifying my high to the max. This one last time.
I reach between us and find the clasp of his jeans. Making quick work of getting his fly open, I fumble until I feel his hard length through his boxers. Then I’m rubbing him hard, coaxing his cock through the opening.
“Fuck—” He pulls back. His teeth snag his lower lip. “Whoa. Slow down. I’m going to fucking come if you don’t.”
Hearing how turned on he is…how turned on I’m making him…only speeds my movements. I slide my palm along the shaft, all the way down and then back up. I forgot just how big he was, and I’m enjoying making him squirm. It’s empowering. I feel like I can do anything. When he grasps my hip, his fingers halted inside me, I feel him trembling. His hand gripping me, body straining as his eyes lock with mine.
“Put me inside you,” he says, and my hand stops.
A single thought spikes through the thick haze wrapping my brain. “You have a condom?”
He groans, and his head lolls to the side. “There’s no way either of us will enjoy that—”
“Fuck you, Jess,” I snap. My high takes a momentary dive. “Just wrap it up.”
Removing his fingers, he shifts me to one of his legs and reaches behind me to fumble through the glove box. “I don’t have any.” Then he’s pushing back into his seat, his head leaning against the headrest. Eyes pleading.
I shake my head. “Oh, hell no.” I’m on birth control—get the shots every six months at clinics—but that’s not what I’m worried about with Jesse; he’s a needle user. I go to yank down my shirt, but his hand stops me.
I have no idea how he pulls this move off—but suddenly his arm encircles my waist and I’m turned onto my back. He bears down on top of me, his weight pushing me into the seat. He reaches down and tweaks the lever, and the seat smacks back with a thwack.
He hovers above me, a wide smile hiking one side of his face. “Just trust me.” His hand eases up my thigh and snags my panties. They come down around my ankles. Then his hand is back in position, his fingers caressing my clit. My body jerks from the fierce jolt of the many sensations skittering through my nervous system.
The warmth is back. Pleasantly swimming in my veins, on top of and beneath my skin. Fiery currents snap and sizzle where his skin touches mine. His smooth chest rubs against my breasts, causing my skin to flare at our joined body heat.
My skirt is tugged up around my waist, and Jesse runs the length of his cock over my clit. A moan tumbles from my lips, and I hear his quick intake of air. “You’re so wet…I could lose my shit right now—”
The quick position change and over stimuli are fucking with my head. I feel like I’m spinning, tunneling under—my equilibrium shifts. “Wait—” I press my palms against his chest. “It’s hitting hard now. I need to calm down for a minute.”
He doesn’t stop. His fingers are expertly working me open, readying me to take him in. His cock rests on top of my belly. I feel its heat and hardness, the throb of it as he grinds his chest against my hands.
“This is the best part, Mel. Don’t miss it. It will blow your mind.” His fingers dive deeper, and I push away, trying to move out of his hold. But we’re too close. Just too much all at once and my breathing ratchets. My pulse careens against my veins.
“No…just wait. Jesse…” My words are soft echoes in my ears. I’m not sure I can even hear them, or that he can. “I can’t. No.”
“Oh yeah, you can,” he says, finally releasing me. I suck in a breath, gasping as some of the tender sensations ease off. “You’re so ready.”
Then my heart hammers against my chest as I feel his weight drop down. His body covers me as he sinks inside—quick, hard, deep.
A wave of heat crashes over my head, and flickers of light blink against my vision. My mouth is open, but the words hanging on my tongue stay trapped in my mouth. My nails dig into his back. He groans, then backs out only to drive into me harder.
“Fuck…” He’s pumping now, his body smacking against mine. And all I can think about is the pulling at my hair. The long strands tangled behind my back and tearing at the roots as I’m pushed into the seat.
I attempt to squeeze his sides with my thighs, trying to let my body speak for me. My legs anchor around his waist, and I tighten my muscles. But that only makes him fuck me faster.
Then the burning…where his dick is sliding. The sensation is on overload. And I’m thinking—it’s not supposed to feel like this. But the tunneling won’t stop. It won’t let me stop. Its hold grips me as hard as Jesse’s hands are fastened to my hips.
My vision blurs, and now my mind is slipping. How stupid. Maybe my emotions are overwhelmed. Maybe I’m enjoying this and it’s just all too much. But the frantic beat of my heart and the skin tearing under my nails pleads differently.
He groans harshly, his body seizing, and he thrusts one last, deep time. Then he rips himself out and spills all over my belly.
His head lands on my shoulder, his breathing intense, hot puffs of breath fanning my chest. “So fucking hot.”
With a forced exhale, I finally work the words past the nauseous tumble in my stomach. “Move...I’m going to be sick.”
Melody
Purge, for your loyalty is endless
I LOSE MY STOMACH. Hunkered over, hanging out the side of the car, the door thrown open, my arm covering my chest—I let it rip.
A bubbly puddle of alcohol and chip chunks stares back at me.
Clear liquid dribbles from my chin, and I wipe at it with the back of my hand. My stomach is cold where Jesse’s come runs down my skin. Blinking a few times to center myself, I sit up, press my back into the side of the seat. Feel Jesse’s hand on my back.
“You okay?” A shirt is tugged over my head. “Here. Get dressed.”
The coke is still firing off inside me. I can’t remember ever feeling like this—it has to be cut with something harsh. Maybe. I don’t know. As soon as I’m dressed and cleaned up, I climb out of the car and wrap my arms around my waist.
“I need to grab Dar and get out of here,” I say, already walking away from Jesse.
He’s leaning against the hood of the car, his vest covering most of his bare chest. I can’t remember when he removed his tank. “Yeah, all right,” he says, sinking his hands into his pockets. “You want me to get her? You’re sketching.” He jogs up to me and snags my arm to slow me down. “Hey. You probably shouldn’t ride like this. I can take you to the motel.”
He’s right. I’m totally sketching out. That’s all it is. It’s been at least five weeks since I last IV’d. It’s just hitting me hard. What happened in the car…that was nothing. I’m just losing my shit.
I nod slowly, feeling my skin stretch and prickle with my movements. “Right. Go get Dar and let’s go.”
“She is not driving my bike!” I’m shouting, drawing attention to us in the parking lot.
At some point during my second wave, the high coming on full force, Jesse tried to talk me into letting Darla drive my bike back to the motel, and him drive me in his car. But fuck that. “She’s wasted,” I say, pointing to Darla looking at me with one eye cocked open.
“I am not. I just got cigarette smoke in my eye.” She wipes sloppily at her eye, smearing mascara down her cheek.
I look at Jesse. Raise my eyebrows. “Fuck this shit.” I snag my keys from his hand and march toward my Breakout. “You take her. I’ll ride alone.”
Jesse plants his six-foot self in front of my path. “You’re a damn good rider, Mel. But these roads are slick, and you’re fucked up.”
I glare at him. “You’re fucked up, too, Jess. What the hell?”
He tilts his head, defiant. “Look at me. Do I look fucked up? Really? I think we both know I’m good to go. Don’t pull this shit, Mel.”
Dammit. I wrap my arms around my stomach and glance back at Darla. She’d be safer with him. Compared to how much shit Jesse usually does at any given tim
e, he’s not too high.
Before I can concede though, he says, “If you’re going to be a bitch about this”—I grit my teeth, stopping myself from calling him out on the dickish shit he just pulled—“then take the car. It’s safer than the bike.”
“Stop telling me what to do! I’m not your ol’ lady, damn.”
His head jerks back like I slapped him. “Right. Yeah. I know.” Jesse looks down to zip his vest, diverting his attention away from me.
My stomach churns, and I feel like if we don’t get out of here soon, we’ll both end up saying things we can’t take back.
I’m too on edge to argue about this much longer, anyway. I want a bath. Screw that, a hot shower. And I want to crawl into bed and bury my head under the covers. I feel like something really messed up has gone down tonight, but I still can’t put my finger on it. I’m too jacked up to sort through my rampaging emotions.
“All right, fine. I’ll drive your car.” I hold out my hand and he drops his car keys in my palm.
“I want to ride the bike.” Darla stumbles as she kicks off her boots. “I hate that car. It smells like toe jam and fast food. I want to feel the wind in my hair, and—”
“You mean your freshly fucked rat’s nest?” I say. My stomach immediately cringes; I have room to talk. Her hands go right to her head as she attempts to smooth down the teased knots.
“Whatever,” I say. “I’m out. Fuck you two lame asses.” I head around to the driver’s side of Jesse’s car and wrench open the door. “Just don’t let her talk you into milkshakes.” I frown at Darla, who always insists on a chocolate milkshake when she’s messed up, then always passes out before she takes one sip. “I want my ride parked in my presence in less than ten.”
Jesse nods, and his mouth parts. I pause before getting in the car. Wait for him to say what’s on his mind—which makes me want to lose my stomach all over again for some inane reason. Our gazes meet, and he closes his mouth. His jaw ticks as a muscle jumps.
Losing Track: A Living Heartwood Novel Page 2