Page 92 of Unleashed

I push her legs open and bend between them. “What do you think?” I’m craving your taste, Simone. I want your cum in my mouth. I’ll lap up every drop.

Simone snaps her knees shut and shoots off the bed, almost falling against the wall. “I’m good.” She sounds like her damn brother.

Her tits bounce as she pushes herself off the wall and straightens. She tucks them back into her dress and pulls it down so I can’t see her snatch or ass. I frown at the way she’s acting. “Is something the matter? I’ve seen you naked, Garrison.” From every sweet angle.

Simone shakes her head and avoids looking at me. “Well, duh. I need some water. And to pee and shower.” She trips over her feet as she goes to her dresser and grabs a pair of underwear, black shorts, and a red t-shirt with Wilder’s station name and The Wild Side on it. He hands those out like an old man with candy corn at Halloween.

Pulling my open shirt back up my arms, I get off Simone’s bed and run both hands through my hair as I walk around her room. What am I doing? I had sex with Simone twice tonight, when I had only planned to tease the hell out of her to boost my ego. The joke is fucking on me, as always.

Sighing, I put my underwear back on and pick up a duffel bag as I hear the toilet flush and then the shower start. Images of Simone’s naked body never fail to drive me crazy and quicken my pulse, no matter how many times I’ve been inside her.

Digging through the bag, I find the purple book and an ink pen. It’s been a while since I’ve opened Eden’s diary. Going over to Simone’s desk, I sit down, turn on the frilly pink lamp, and move the mirror so I don’t see my reflection. It’s not the same as earlier. I flip open the Hello Kitty cover to where I left off.

Dear Greg,

It’s one of those nights at Dad’s where I give myself more compassion than I deserve. Sherry shouldn’t have to deal with my bitchiness, so I’ll dump it on you.

Where in the hell do you get off ignoring every damn thing I tell you? You think I can’t haunt your ass from where I am? With you, it’s like I’m chatting with a goddamn wall. Look. We both know you have as much sense as a worm with titties, but even this is an eating-the-wax-fruit level of idiocy.

As I’ve harped on you before, the love of your life might be right in front of your dopey face. Sadly, you’ve stared into the sun so long that you can’t see anyone else. Get some damn sunglasses, cheapskate. I’ll repeat this again for the brain cells in the back of your lame brain. Hadley is not, will never be, nor ever was yours. Let that sink in while I hit the bathroom. I’ll be there for a while. Because I’m slow, asswad.

Alright, I’m back. Did you fucking think about what I said? I damn hope so, because you’re wasting my eternity. Right now, you don’t have that luxury. Someday, you’ll see me again, and guess what? If you fucked up your life after all my advice, I will kick your ass for blowing it. I don’t need lungs anymore or a halo, so watch it.

Anyway, your woman is near you. I know this. Even alive, I did (in case you forgot, I’m not taking a dirt nap yet writing this, shithead). And it never was Hadley. Your soulmate, Gregston, probably looks amazing, doesn’t tolerate your behavior, stands out when beside you, and is so attractive that you should feel embarrassed she even pays attention to you. Maybe Jesus will take pity on a part-time, hybrid Jew and throw you a bone, though you may need the Holy Grail for this miracle. For actual fuck’s sake.

Love,

E

Dear Crypt Keeper,

Yeah, but it’s kinda odd taking advice from someone who spews a piss-poor attitude through a broken catheter. Okay, you’re right about Hadley. I don’t love her...as much, maybe? I don’t know. I still feel something for her, but it’s different now. We’re weird together.

But then you don’t get it. I thought I was in love. I felt it in my bones. For fucking real. Until she wasn’t. Turns out, we were just horny and bored. Those two states should never mix. Yeah, and I guess you’re right, that love was in front of my face. But I screwed up, and she’s not mine for the picking.

Now, I’m just here for a good time because, to be honest, I need to bury the goddamn screaming pain roaring throughout my existence. But like a stupid moth to a flame or a masochist craving whiplash, I have to be near her, even if it’s arguing. It’s not because we work and play ball together, but because she’s in my fucking blood, every breath, each corner of my mind, every inch of my body, and bonded to my soul. But I’m bleeding out. She’s moved on, and watching her hang all over other men burns like a motherfucker. And as expected, I cannot handle it, Eden. I’d rather have Hadley’s daredevil smash a bat into my fucking skull than feel this pain every damn second.

I’m trying to date, but someone may as well bury me next to you because I’m dead inside. But you’ll love this part. I deserve all this pain she inflicts on me since I rejected her in the worst fucking way imaginable. Times a million.

So save the soulmate bit. I’m not interested in a replacement. There isn’t one.

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