100 PROOF

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100 PROOF Page 23

by Shanora Williams


  I watched her carefully, knowing how fragile she was. She was a damaged girl with a heart like a dove. She was broken all around, but her heart was mostly pure and her intentions were true.

  I didn’t say anything else. Instead, I gave a soft command for her to get up. She stood, and as soon as she did, I held her hip and brought her between my thighs.

  “I can do that, baby,” I whispered, kissing her hipbone. “I can make you forget.”

  Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled from the streaks of silver and white lights, focused solely on mine. I gradually pulled her panties down, my lips gently pressing on her stomach, below her navel, and then on her pelvis.

  A heavy breath escaped her when I kissed her just above her other lips, and her head fell back, eyes squeezing tight. I gripped her hips in hand, pulling her closer, breathing her in. She smelled so good—so sweet. She smelled like cherries and a hint of vanilla. At least that much hadn’t changed. Her scent drove me fucking crazy, so crazy I sat back, pulled my boxers down, and hauled her down on my lap.

  My cock met at her entrance when she gasped. I was hungry now. Ready. I knew I had to be gentle, but being gentle with her was fucking hard. She felt and tasted too good, and I was always famished—hungry for more of her.

  Her eyes found mine again, and they softened, like she wanted this more than anything in the world.

  “I’m glad you came,” I told her.

  “Were you thinking about drinking?” she whispered, straddling me, pressing down just enough for me to feel how tight she was. My mouth parted, not expecting that.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you?”

  “No. I came straight to my room.”

  She held my shoulders. “Good.”

  “I hate this addiction.”

  She inclined her hips, her pussy still wrapped around me, but only the tip. “There was something else you were addicted too—someone else that helped relieve your stress.”

  “Who?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Me,” she replied, voice silky. “You were and still are addicted to me, just as much as I’m addicted to you.” She lowered her hips, halfway around me now. Her pussy was snug and warm and I throbbed, ready to explode already because she felt that fucking good. Her hips lowered even more, and her ass was on my lap, breath hitching when she felt how hard and thick I was. I was fully inside her now, our eyes still connected, breaths bated.

  “Do you need me to say it?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I groaned. “Say it.”

  “Get drunk on me, Vinny,” she breathed. “Take as much as you need. Be greedy with me if it’ll help cool the burn I know is in your veins. I’m here for you.”

  Her words were my undoing. I clutched her hip tight with one hand, using the other to wrap around the back of her neck. I squeezed just enough for her to feel how badly I wanted this—how much I needed it. Her moans were thick, and I grunted and sighed as she rode me. I met her thrust for thrust, holding on tight, never wanting to let go.

  Fuck, I couldn’t figure out what she was doing to me. Being caught in the kitchen should have been enough, yet I couldn’t stop myself from craving this girl, or from sucking on her lip, wanting taste after taste. I couldn’t get deep enough, or move fast enough. None of what I did felt like enough.

  My body was so tense, but she stroked my face when the kiss broke, whispering, “It’s okay.”

  Two simple words—two words that eased my tension and eased the ache inside me. It calmed my mind, making me forget that I was dying for just one drink.

  Before she arrived, I had to keep telling myself not to go to the bar. It didn’t help that I had to walk past it when I first arrived, pissed off and anxious.

  I came up here, lit up a cigarette, and paced the room, pulling at my hair, feeling the emptiness in my veins, dying of thirst. Just one sip, just one sip—that’s what my brain chanted.

  I needed her.

  It was either, go down to that bar and fuck up my entire life by feeding into my nasty, old habit, or respond to Marley and take the biggest dose of an even bigger addiction. She was my greatest, sweetest, most tempting addiction. Sometimes I questioned if I was obsessed with her.

  I was ruining this girl. I was tearing her right apart, limb by limb, and she knew it, yet she couldn’t stay away, and I wasn’t strong enough to leave her alone. I knew the truth. She was better off with Lloyd than with me.

  I was unpredictable and he was like an average Joe.

  He had more money than me.

  He had more patience than me, most times.

  He was practical, and I was wild—always had been. She knew all of this, yet here she was, riding me like she didn’t want to be anywhere else, kissing me like she couldn’t get full enough.

  I was so close. I pulled my hand from her neck, holding her upper back with both hands, guiding my cock deeper and deeper to quench the ravenous thirst, cooling the fire flooding my veins. It felt like we were on fire now, panting, sweating, sighing, groaning, and moaning.

  “Vinny.” She breathed my name past my ear and I couldn’t help myself. I clutched her warm body, gluing it to mine, and I fucking exploded. I came so hard inside her, still plunging as she rounded her hips and a faint moan filled the air.

  “Shit,” I rasped, kissing her plump bottom lip.

  She peered down at me, eyes mellow, face content.

  “I can’t live without you, Marley. You know that, don’t you?”

  She pressed her lips, stroking my jawline. Her face didn’t change and she didn’t move, still tangled around me. “I know,” was all she said.

  I wasn’t sure what it was about her response that made me feel defeated, but I ignored the feeling and cherished the moment.

  She let me carry her straight to the shower, where we fucked one more time, me sliding in and out from behind while the stream poured down on us, but when we lay down, I felt something hot and wet land on my chest.

  I looked down and she sniffled. I tipped her chin, listening to my heart beat slower and slower. She looked me in the eyes, hers watery, sparkling from the silver streaks of moonlight spilling in through the open balcony door.

  I could read her eyes, and I knew exactly what she wanted to say. She was just too afraid to say it.

  “This is going to be the last night we do this, isn’t it?” I asked, voice faint, hardly a whisper.

  Her tears fell as soon as I asked, and she shut her eyes. I didn’t want to hear her response. I didn’t want her to answer. She started to speak, but I flipped her onto her back, shifting between her legs. We were still naked, hair still damp from the shower.

  I didn’t want to hear what she had to say. Hearing it would make it real, and I fucking hated my reality, so I entwined our fingers, bringing our hands above her head, kissing her on the chin, the neck, her cheek. I slid right into her and took her like she was mine—all mine. Not hard, but gently—softer than anytime I could ever recall.

  I put my lips wherever I could place them, allowing them to lead the way. Her sniffles continued, along with sweet, small gasps and moans of pleasure. Her breath would hitch if I stroked deep enough and hit a tender spot. I loved the sound.

  I sucked on the bend of her neck, her favorite spot to be kissed, and her back arched. I was greedy all over again, taking sip after sip. I sucked until I felt her body shaking, her legs quaking around my hips. I thrust deep, hearing our skin lightly clap together, a soothing rhythm I would never forget.

  “No matter what happens,” I whispered as her head fell back and her mouth formed into a large O, “I will always fucking love you, Marlena Winters. I swear it.”

  My words were obviously too much for her. She combusted, squeezing my fingers as tightly as she could while crying out my name. She came hard, soaking me up, giving me what I wanted.

  She was so wet, and she looked so pretty when she came.

  How could any man ever get enough of a goddess like her? Lloyd was a fucking moron. He had
a queen—not a woman that came a dime a dozen—and he didn’t even know it.

  I knew it, but I let her slip away like a goddamn fool.

  I spooned her to sleep, afraid to shut my eyes. I was afraid to go to sleep. Deep inside, I knew once she walked out that door, I was never going to have her in my arms like this again.

  I was afraid of what she’d think once the sun was in the sky and her head was clear, ready to tackle a new day. I was worried what she’d think once she realized I was nothing in comparison to my younger brother. She knew I needed her—could hardly fucking breathe without her—but he was capable of providing much more . . . my own damn brother.

  I’d never been afraid of anything in my life, but my greatest fear bloomed that night, and it was the fear of losing her for good this time.

  She was gone way before I’d woken up, but there was a note on the table, written in a smooth script and red ink. It was from her.

  Addictions are bad habits that are hard to let go of. That’s why you have to live without me, Vinny. I don’t want to be the one to destroy you, and I can’t let you destroy me. Not again.

  The saddest thing about this?

  It wasn’t the first time I felt abandoned. She’d left before and it gutted me, yes, but she wasn’t the first person I trusted that had hurt me.

  No. There was someone else. Someone close.

  Someone related.

  And his name was Lloyd Harris.

  VIN

  Past

  Lloyd and I hadn’t always been at each other’s throats.

  There was a time when we were two peas in a pod. We played video games together. I used to take him to the park when Will was too busy and even walk with him to and from school sometimes. He looked up to me. He loved that he could call me his big brother . . . but then he turned fourteen and shit hit the fan.

  Before that, things seemed okay. I caught a few ugly looks here and there, took some minor jabs and rude comments, but never actually experienced the vicious hate until sixteen.

  It was my sophomore year. I was the quarterback for my private high school and honestly one of the best. Back then, Mom was proud of me. She saw the potential I had. She thought for sure that I would get a scholarship and soar—maybe even make it into the league if I kept going at the pace I was going. Being the starting quarterback as a sophomore was rare for my private school. Colleges were already scouting me, newspapers talking about me being the next Brady.

  I was proud of myself back then. I went to school every single day, clowned around sometimes, but I made sure my grades were up to par so I could continue playing.

  It was the last game of the finals and we were in the lead. Playoffs were on the rise and my team was undefeated and ready for them.

  We’d just won the game and the crowd was hooting and hollering, tossing me and a few other players in the air to celebrate.

  I could see Mom in the stands from where I stood, and beside her was Will, holding a water bottle. I was sure there was liquor in that bottle. Beside him, a fourteen-year old Lloyd who only stared, face blank. Mom was cheering. Will’s face was just as blank as his son’s.

  It was a great night. So much love was thrown my way that I didn’t notice their grim looks or how, when Mom hugged me, Will muttered something to Lloyd, and Lloyd would laugh and nod in agreement. After the game, it took a while for me to come out to the stands and meet them.

  “I’m so proud of you, baby boy,” Mom cooed when I finally found them, cupping my face and kissing my cheek. “You played a great game. Didn’t he play a great game, Will?” she asked, looking back at him.

  I looked towards Will, hoping he’d give me some credit—a pat on the back and a smile, like he was actually proud of me. He gave a nod and said, “Sure did. I like the way you play, boy! Keep it up!”

  I smiled at him. A compliment. That was rare as fuck.

  Mom pulled my focus back on her. “Good job, baby. Keep that up and you’ll be going places!”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  It started drizzling. “Let’s get out of here before the rain gets heavier. I’ve got your favorite dinner cooking tonight, that chicken lasagna you love so much.” She hooked her arm through my elbow. When we reached the parking lot, she said, “I have a quick stop to make at the store, so you can ride home with Will, take a hot shower, and relax those muscles. I know you’re tired after such a huge game!”

  “Come on, Vin!” Will said, like he was eager to have me ride with him, and I thought maybe he was proud of me. Maybe he did care, but just didn’t know how to show it.

  He took out his car keys and pressed the unlock button on his key fob. Lloyd followed right behind him, jumping into the front seat.

  Holy shit was all I could think. Was Will really proud of me for that win? I couldn’t pass up this opportunity to bond with him—really get to know my stepfather.

  When Mom took off for her car, I climbed in the backseat of Will’s SUV. He started the engine and drove right off.

  “Did you see how I threw that forty yard pass to Grant?” I asked Will, pushing for more. I was being greedy and I knew it, but I wanted to really make sure he was proud of me, and not just acting like it around Mom.

  “Yeah, that was a nice pass,” he said, and it actually sounded like he was proud about it. “I’ve got a little surprise for you back there. Look on the floor behind my seat.”

  I reached down and picked up something hard in a brown paper bag. I pulled it out and it was a bottle of brown liquor. Some cheap kind of whiskey.

  “What’s this?” I asked, slightly confused.

  “Oh, boy, don’t start acting crazy now. You know exactly what that is,” he boasted. “I always see you eyeing it when we’re at home. Go ahead. Your mama ain’t around. Open it and take a few sips. You had a good game.” He glanced back. “You deserve it. Celebrate a little.”

  I smiled as he turned up the volume of the radio. Lloyd shifted in his seat and I took the lid off the bottle. I was too excited for my own good. I’d drunk a few times at a few parties, but it was only beer. Never anything this strong.

  I took the first sip and it was like fire being poured down my throat.

  “Damn,” I gasped. “It’s strong.”

  “That’s how it’s supposed to be!” Will laughed.

  I took three more big swigs, starting to feel a little loopy. I closed the bottle and then I leaned forward, grabbing Lloyd’s shoulder and shaking it. “Why are you so quiet, butthead?”

  “Get off of me,” he snapped, shoving my hand away.

  “What? Are you jealous ‘cause I get to drink a little and you can’t?” I teased. I swear I was only teasing. Back then, I loved my little brother to death. But it was like as soon as he hit his teen years, he’d changed. He wasn’t the free-spirited kid that looked up to me anymore. He became more independent. Quieter.

  He started following in Will’s footsteps by making fun of me. He even called me out once, saying I wasn’t his real brother. I didn’t think much of it because he was just a kid—we were kids—and kids said shitty things all the time. I teased him just as much as he teased me. It was natural . . . or so it seemed.

  The car veered right and I noticed Will was taking a different road to get home. This single-lane road was darker, surrounded by tall trees that lurked above us.

  “Keep drinking!” Will insisted. “You better enjoy this freedom while your mother ain’t around!”

  “Right,” I laughed, bringing the bottle up to my lips again.

  He drove for a short while and then the car slowed down. He pulled to the side of the road and put it in park. When he shut the engine off, I frowned.

  “Why are we stopping?” I asked, looking out, seeing nothing but darkness.

  “There’s something I want to show both of you.” Will climbed out of the car before I could ask any more questions. Lloyd followed blindly like he always did and I followed suit.

  We were bonding. That’s what it was. He was finally
pulling me under his wing.

  I stepped out of the car and Will walked past the bed of his truck, picking something up. He came around to our side of the car, walking through a trail.

  “Isn’t it a little too late to be out here, Dad?” Lloyd asked as Will turned on a flashlight. He had something else in his hand but I couldn’t make it out. “It’s raining.”

  “It’ll be quick. You’ll see.” Will glanced back, peering over his shoulder. “Keep up, Vin. I don’t want you to miss this.”

  I wasn’t sure what was up, but I kept following him. I felt loopy and wavy. Not like myself at all. It was the alcohol making me feel this way, I was sure.

  I heard the ocean next. The sound was loud, roaring with the wind and drizzle. A clearing appeared and Will walked right through, Lloyd following closely behind.

  When I stepped out, I realized we were on a beach. I wasn’t sure which beach this was, but I could tell it was a hidden one. It was secluded. I never would have known about it had Will not brought us there.

  “Why are we here?” I asked as the rain began to beat down, pelting my jersey. I stepped forward, past them, watching the ocean. The waves were strong and heavy, crashing to shore. The waters looked dangerous—dark and chilling.

  “Dad?” Lloyd called behind me, but Will was much quieter than before.

  I started to look back, but something quickly hit me on the back of the head before I could turn. It was hard and a loud oomph spilled out of me as I hit the ground. I groaned, rubbing the back of my head.

  “What the hell?” I muttered, my words slurring.

  I heard the sand crunch and then Will appeared, towering above. He had a metal pole clutched in his hand, glaring down at me.

  “You think you’re the best thing walking, don’t you?” he snarled.

  “What?” I was confused, my head splitting, body heavy now.

 

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