Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Good boy. That’s all it takes for me to come without a single stroke of my cock. I’ve been so close for so long, but it still surprises me, crashing into me with the force of a wrecking ball. My channel spasms around him, making the tight fit almost painful and Carter shouts again.
I can’t stop it. I don’t want to. I can’t do anything but let my release wash over me, sending rough tremors up my spine and soaking my stomach with come as Carter loses all restraint.
“So good,” he moans. He’s fucking me so hard now, the sound of his flesh slapping against mine like erotic applause.
He grips my jaw with his free hand and kisses me. Then he jerks up, his eyes clenched shut as he comes with a long, hoarse shout. I can feel the heat of his release through the condom, pulsing inside me.
This is bliss. This is what people are willing to do anything to feel. To keep.
What they’d die without.
I feel like I lost time or left my body for a few minutes, and it’s almost impossible to keep a thought in my head.
I’ve never felt so out of control.
Carter drags me close and pulls the sheet over our cooling bodies.
“Still with me?” He murmurs, kissing my neck and using his knuckles to brush the tears off my cheeks. “JD?”
“What planet again?”
His chuckle is low and intimate. “Our planet, grasshopper. And let me tell you, I really like it here. I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.”
I don’t just like it here. I love it here.
I love…
Three hours later, I’m climbing into a car that’s going to take me to the airport and my brother’s plane.
I left a note for Carter.
Spending a few days with family. Thank you for everything. Will talk to you soon.
Soon. This is a break. Breathing room. Everyone needs some space now and then.
I need a little distance. Hopefully there’ll be enough of it to convince myself I’m not hopelessly in love for the first time in my life.
Because I can’t be.
That can’t be what I’m feeling, right?
Dear Diary,
I…fuck, I can’t talk about it right now.
***
9 days later…
“Good morning, sunshine. I don’t mean to interrupt this ode to moping you’ve been working on, but I was wondering if you were planning on taking a shower ever again. I’ve been gone for three days and you’re still exactly where I left you. In the same clothes, with that same appetizing stain on you collar.”
I flip Royal off without looking away from the view. This apartment is perfect for him. Playboy pilot bachelor digs done right, but it’s got nothing on his balcony. I’ve barely left it in the last nine days.
Nine. Days.
He’s right. I’m in the same clothes I was in when he left for work a few days ago. I haven’t moved in so long that the pigeons that drop by for lunch think I’m one of their own. The fat one with a chip in his beak is my spirit animal.
Chip gets me.
Despite my lack of welcome, Royal grabs a chair and takes a seat. Great. I thought we were beyond the talking thing, but it’s not like I can kick him out. I pick up a half empty container of chunky liquid and grimace. Old, melted Moose Tracks. Yum. “What’s up?”
“Thanks for asking, JD. There’s actually a lot going on in my life right now. My brother hit and quit a Marine, then holed up in my apartment to hide from the world. Not that I mind a visit every now and then,” he amends with a shrug. “But this kind of behavior is just begging for an intervention, and those sound like too much work, so I’m naturally against them.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Don’t be a dick,” he says sharply. “I want you to snap out of it. This isn’t like you.”
How does he know? Maybe it is. Maybe I don’t deserve to snap out of it.
I left the best man I’d ever known after the best sex I’d ever had because I was scared of what might happen. How fucked up is that? I was scared of being in love with someone who might not feel the same, or as much as I did. So in love that losing him would… well, it would do this to me.
I thought it might get better. That the feeling might pass with time and distance. Perspective and logic was all I needed. But I was wrong. If anything it’s gotten worse.
I can’t stop thinking about him. I can’t write. I can’t help feeling I made a horrible mistake.
Fiona thinks so too. She’s calling me every day, checking in on me and repeating the same words of comfort. “Stop being an idiot.”
She might be my best friend.
Toni contacted me a few days ago, apologizing via email, but after what I did to Carter, I don’t think I deserve an apology anymore. She may have panicked and made a few horrible decisions, but I’m the real coward. I won’t even take the chance of being hurt.