Distraction

by Aurora Rose Reynolds

  “I did, but it’s vegetarian.”

  “Is it tofu?”

  “No.” She smiles, standing from the couch. “It’s eggplant parmesan.”

  “I’ve never had it,” I admit as she takes my hand and leads me toward the kitchen. Turning on the light, she leads me to the table then pushes me to take a seat, running away quickly when I try to pull her down on my lap.

  “You need to eat. No funny business, mister.”

  “I missed you,” I tell her as she goes to the stove and opens it. Her eyes come to me and go soft once more.

  “I missed you, too,” she grumbles like she shouldn’t have missed me, which only makes me grin. Pulling a plate out of the oven, she then goes to the fridge and grabs a bowl, pulling a piece of saran wrap off of it before grabbing the plate and bringing both to me. “What would you like to drink?” she asks, going to step away after setting the plate and bowl in front of me.

  Grabbing her hand, I stop her and pull her back to stand between my legs. “Kiss me,” I demand, wrapping my hands around her waist. I wait for her to touch her mouth to mine then fist my hand in her hair at the back of her neck to keep her in place. I take over, nipping her lip until her mouth opens so my tongue can slide between her lips. The first touch of her tongue against mine and her taste flooding my mouth are enough to bring me from hard to painfully erect. I can’t get enough of her taste, and the thought of eating her instead of food is sounding better by the second.

  “You need to eat,” she breathes against my mouth, trying to pull away.

  “Come sit on the table and feed me then,” I take her mouth again then adjust my legs, sliding one between hers while pulling her down so she’s straddling my thigh. Feeling the heat of her pussy through my slacks drives me to take the kiss deeper.

  “Sven!” she cries as I move us to the floor and slip her shirt off over her head.

  “Shhhh.” I grab both of her wrists and pull them up above her head. “Keep them there,” I tell her, kissing her neck then down over the edge of her lace bra, over her stomach, then along the edge of her cotton shorts.

  Grabbing the waist, I drag them down her ass and sit back long enough to pull them off her legs. Spreading her thighs wide, I take in the beauty of her body then duck my head to run my tongue up her center, collecting her sweet taste on my tongue. “Fuck, I could live off your essence alone and never go hungry.”

  “Oh, God.” Looking up her body, I see her eyes are closed and her chest is rising and falling quickly. Licking up her center again and again, I build her up until I know she’s right on the brink then slide two fingers into her and suck her clit into my mouth, pulling hard until she’s screaming and flooding my mouth. Grabbing a condom out of my pocket, I make quick work of my pants and slide it on, adjusting her hips and burying myself deep within her.

  Dropping my head forward, I breathe in through my nose, trying to control the urge to come. Her tight heat is still pulsing with her orgasm, squeezing my cock in rapid succession.

  “Sven,” she gasps, lifting her legs, wrapping them around my back.

  “Fuck, baby, that’s not helping. You wrapped around me, feeling your pussy gripping me like it never wants to let me go, is driving me to the brink of losing control,” I confess on a groan, pulling out slowly as her walls try to grab and drag me back in. Grabbing her hands, I keep them above her, pressed to the floor.

  As I rock in and out of her slowly at first, I then pick up the pace, dipping my head and rolling my tongue around her nipple, and then bite the tip and tug. Her core tightening and her loud moan have me kissing across her chest to her other nipple, rolling my tongue around it and biting the tip, tugging it, too. Her loud cries and the way her head starts to thrash tell me that she’s close. Holding her wrists with one hand, I glide my fingers down her side then move them between her legs, strumming her clit.

  Her scream fills the house and I slam my mouth down over hers, groaning down her throat as my own orgasm suddenly crashes over me. As I release her wrists, her arms wrap around my shoulders, and she lifts her head, burying her face against my neck.

  “You okay, baby?” I question, turning my mouth toward her ear.

  “Yeah,” she breathes as I pull her face back so I can see her eyes.

  “Good,” I whisper softly, pulling out of her slowly, hearing her mewl of loss. Kissing her forehead then her lips, I help her up then smile when she turns and abruptly drops to her hands and knees, turning red as she looks around.

  “What are you doing?”

  “The blinds are open,” she hisses, crawling toward her shirt on the floor. Groaning, I feel myself get hard once more as I watch her ass bounce. Grabbing her shirt, I hand it to her, slip off the condom, and adjust my pants. I go to the blinds in the dining room and close them while she puts on her shorts. “Your food is probably cold now.” She frowns as I toss the condom in the garbage.

  “It was worth it,” I mutter, wrapping my arms around her waist when she brings my plate to the microwave. “Actually, I’m not even hungry anymore,” I nip her neck, making her giggle a sound I don’t think I’ve ever heard her make, a noise I love so much that I plan on making her make it more often.

  “You’re too much,” she whispers, dipping her head as my mouth licks over her skin.

  “You love it.”

  “Maybe a little,” she agrees, turning in my arms and getting up on her tiptoes. Her hands run through my hair and I pause just to look at her. I never knew I could have this and feel content. The idea of loving anyone in the past would have sent me into a panic, but Maggie makes it easy. Everything about her makes being with her easy. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks quietly.

  “You’re perfect.”

  “Not even close,” she murmurs with a shake of her head. Running her fingertips across my jaw, she whispers, “Perfect is unattainable and an unrealistic expectation. No one is perfect, and if you think they are, you will be let down when you see they are flawed, just like everyone else.”

  Studying her face and hearing her words, I know she’s right, but she’s also very fucking wrong. She’s perfect for me. I just hope I can be the same for her.

  Chapter 7

  Maggie

  Choices

  My step flounders as I walk into the bathroom and see Sven wearing his loose basketball shorts, standing shirtless at the sink with his toothbrush in his mouth. Moving my eyes down his chest and abs, I feel a flutter in my lower belly and a tingle between my legs, reminding me of what he did to my body not fifteen minutes ago. Moving my eyes back up to his face, he smiles around the brush in his mouth, looking all too smug.

  “Nice shirt,” he mutters through the foam in his mouth as I slide up next to him, pulling out my toothbrush from the cup next to the sink.

  Six weeks ago when we became an us, we moved all of my stuff into his room, a room that is now ours.

  “Thanks.” I fight my smile and a shiver when his eyes heat and rake over me. When I finally got up enough energy to pull myself out of bed, where he left me still panting for breath, I grabbed his shirt and slipped it on.

  “I really like the lace,” he tells me—something I already know, as his hand smoothes over my ass and I inhale at his touch. The lacy boy shorts I have on are the same ones I put on this morning, only to have them removed a few minutes later when Sven tossed me onto the bed then tossed them to the floor.

  “You need to go to work,” I remind him quietly, as he moves to stand behind me and slides his hands over his shirt around my waist then up under my breasts.

  “I know.” He frowns, running his hands down to settle on the curve of my waist. “You’re not putting up much of a fight about staying home.” He’s right. I’m not. Him telling me I should take the day off fits with what I need to do today. Last night, I got a message from my sister asking me to meet her. I know if I tell him about the message, he will likely flip out and do something ridiculous like forbid me from going to see her. I don’t want t
hat, not right now, not when things seem to be going in a direction I like. A lot.

  I know ignorance is not always bliss, but in this case, I have to believe that what Sven doesn’t know can’t hurt him, and judging by his previous comments regarding my sister, that’s exactly what will happen if I tell him she contacted me and that I want to meet with her. Hell, when I told him I wanted to keep my old apartment in case she needed somewhere to stay, he was pissed. He didn’t think I needed to do anything for her, not after what happened, but I can’t turn my back on my sister; I just can’t.

  “I know you’re worried about me and I don’t want you to worry,” I lie, and his eyes move across my face in the mirror then settle on mine. Fighting the urge to look away or squirm, I hold his gaze and my breath.

  “Thanks, baby.”

  Guilt instantly washes over me at his words, and I drop my eyes and place my hands over his, mumbling a quiet, “You’re welcome.”

  “Do you want to shower with me?”

  Feeling my lips lift slightly, I shake my head then raise my eyes to look at him once more. “I better not. You’re going to be late.”

  “You’re right, but seeing how I’m the boss, I think I can make an excuse.”

  Rolling my eyes at that one, I turn in his arms and rest my hands against his abs. “Go shower. I’ll make you coffee,” I tell him, kissing the underside of his jaw, only to have him pull me back against him and kiss me properly before releasing me and dropping his shorts to the floor. Swallowing, I watch his cock bounce against his stomach.

  “You’re looking at me like you want to get wet with me.” He smiles, and I take a step back then another, and then run out of the bathroom, leaving him laughing behind me.

  *

  Heading across the parking lot toward the Starbucks where I told my sister to meet me, I scan the lot, looking for anyone out of place. My stomach is a jumbled mess and my nerves are on edge from not only lying to Sven, but from knowing I’m about to see my sister for the first time in months. I know I shouldn’t exactly trust her after what she’s done in the past, but I really hope she’s ready to tell me she wants to get some real help this time, the kind of help only a professional can give her.

  Pulling open the door, the overpowering smell of coffee assaults me, making my stomach roll. Scanning the patrons, I spot Morgan sitting at a small round table in the back near the restrooms. I didn’t think it was possible for her to lose any more weight, but she has. The black tank top she has on shows off her extremely thin arms, and the jean shorts she’s wearing give me a view of her legs, which are so thin I can make out the bones of her knees and ankles.

  Making my way toward her, I feel myself pale; she looks frail and sick. Her skin has lost its golden hue and is now a greyish color, and her hair is so thin I can see her scalp. Long gone is the beautiful girl who would turn heads as she walked down the sidewalk, and in her place is someone I don’t even recognize.

  “Maggie,” she whispers, standing to greet me with a hug. Hugging her back, my arms can almost wrap around her twice and tears burn the back of my eyes. Releasing me, she takes a step back.

  “God, you look awesome, Maggie, totally fucking awesome.” She smiles, but I still catch the sadness and pain in her eyes as she speaks.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, feeling guilty for every ounce of happiness I’ve felt over the last few months—months she’s obviously been slowly deteriorating.

  “Do you want coffee?” she asks, taking a seat.

  “No, thanks,” I reply, sitting across from her. We both stare at each other for a long time, and I have no idea what to say. I want to yell at her for being selfish, but I also want to tell her I miss her so much. Not the Morgan she’s become over the last few years, but the Morgan who helped me get even with my first boyfriend when I found out he kissed another girl, the Morgan I could tell anything to, the Morgan who was my best friend.

  “Thanks for meeting with me,” she says quietly and I nod. “I want to get help,” she blurts loudly, so loudly that a few of the people around us stop to look at us.

  “You want to get help?” I repeat quietly, not able to keep the surprise or doubt out of my voice.

  “I know I’ve messed up.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. I’m not going to coddle or sugarcoat things for her this time. I always do that, and it never, ever works. “You could have gotten me killed.”

  “I…I’m…I’m sorry. I wish I could change that,” she whispers as my phone in my purse rings. Pulling it out, I look at the screen and see Sven’s calling. Pressing the silence button, I squeeze the phone in my hand and feel my heart rate speed up. “If you need to take that, it’s okay,” she says, studying me. I really, really do not want to answer the phone. I really don’t, but I also don’t want Sven to worry. Sliding my finger across the screen, I place the phone to my ear.

  “He—” I drop my eyes from my sister to my lap as he cuts me off.

  “Where are you, Maggie?”

  I can tell he’s not asking like he needs to know. He’s asking to see if I will lie about it. How he knows where I am, I have no idea, but I can tell he does.

  “Starbucks,” I reply, biting my lip when I hear something on his end of the phone slam down, and I know without even being in the same room with him that it’s his fist hitting the top of his desk.

  “Who are you with?”

  “Sven…”

  “Who the fuck are you with, Maggie?” he asks quietly, and I swallow.

  “My sister.”

  “Jesus, what the fuck are you thinking?!” he roars, and I see my sister jump at the sound.

  “Can I call you back when I leave here?”

  “Call me when you get in your car then come straight here,” he demands.

  “I—”

  “Call me when you get in your car then come straight here,” he repeats, and I feel my spine stiffen at his tone, but I know now is not the time to get into it with him.

  “Okay,” I agree and his phone goes off, and I know he hung up without even a goodbye.

  “Who was that?” Morgan asks as I drop my phone back into my purse.

  “My boyfriend,” I tell her while my insides twist into a knot, because that may not be the case for very long.

  “He sounds like a dick,” she states.

  I glare at her then hiss, “He’s worried.”

  “He still sounds like a dick, and why would he be worried?”

  “I don’t know Morgan, maybe because you have a tendency to bring trouble with you wherever you go,” I bite out sarcastically.

  “That’s not fair,” she whispers, and I run my palm across my forehead and notice my hands are shaking.

  Trying to get my thoughts together, I close my eyes then open them back up to look at her. “You said you want to get help, so what is your plan?”

  “I need to borrow some money so I can get it back to Carmine, and then I’ll go into rehab.”

  “Morgan.” I close my eyes again and feel myself deflate.

  “Maggie,” she calls, and I open my eyes once more to look at her. “I know you don’t have much of a reason to believe me or trust me, but this time I really do want to get help.”

  Studying her, I see the truth in her gaze, or maybe I’m only seeing what I want to see. “How much?” I hear myself ask, and watch relief flood her features.

  “Fourteen thousand.”

  “Fourteen thousand?” I choke.

  “I know it’s a lot of money, but once I finish rehab, I swear I’ll pay you back, every penny.”

  “Morgan, I just…I just don’t know. That’s a lot of money to just give to you.”

  “I don’t have anyone else to ask,” she whispers, dropping her eyes to the coffee cup on the table which she’s turning slowly around and around.

  My heart twists in my chest as I watch her. If I don’t help her she could really end up dead. If I do help her, she could run with the money and end up dead anyway. This is a double-edged sword if there
ever was one.

  “You’re going to have to follow me to the bank. I don’t have that kind of cash on me,” I say, and the cup stops turning, her eyes meeting mine and are flooding with relief. “Morgan, this is it. This is the last time. I love you, but I can’t keep doing the same dance with you. If you don’t get help this time…” I shake my head, letting the unspoken words hang between us.

  “I know,” she whispers.

  Letting out a long breath, I stand from the table. “How did you get here?”

  “Amy dropped me,” she mutters then continues when she reads the look of distaste on my face, “I’ve been staying with her the last few days.”

  “Morgan—”

  “Don’t say it, okay? I already know what you’re going to say, but you don’t need to.”

  “Fine, you can ride with me,” I tell her, pulling my bag closer to my body. Once we’re in my car and on our way to the bank, my phone rings again, but I ignore it knowing without looking that it’s Sven. If I tell him what I’m doing now, not only will he be pissed, he will be PISSED, and I can’t deal with that right now.

  “Do you want me to come in with you?” Morgan asks as I park in front of the bank.

  Looking at her, I turn off my car and shake my head. “I’ll be back. I don’t know how long this is going to take.”

  “I’ll be here,” she mumbles as I slam the door. It takes surprisingly less time than I thought it would to get the money. I don’t know why I thought it would be a process, or that I would have to sit down with a banker, but all I had to do was go the teller and tell them how much I needed, show ID, and sign off on the amount.

  When I walk back out to the car, I see Amy standing next to the passenger side door of my car, talking to Morgan through the open window. Ignoring her, I get back into the car, trying to keep myself in check.

  “Hi, Maggie,” Amy says, but all I can do is mutter a quiet acknowledgement back before asking, “Can you give me a minute to talk to Morgan?”

  “Um, sure,” she agrees, looking between the two of us before stepping back. Rolling up Morgan’s window, I turn in my seat to face her fully.