Page 14 of The One I Left Behind

I fist my dick and place my free hand on the plastic wall of the shower. Goddamn, it hasn’t felt this good in a long time. Her hair slides back and forth, and I deny myself the urge to grab it and wrap my fist around it. Her hands are on my chest in order to keep control, and I raise my hips off the bed to get as deep as I can.

She’s warm and wet, and my dick slips in and out as she rises and falls on top of me.

My fist moves faster, and my hand flexes on the wall, wishing I had something to grab on to.

She closes her eyes and falls down on me, her lips crashing to mine, and that’s when I take control. My hand slides into her hair, pulling as I devour her mouth. She moans and clenches around my dick. I flip her over and drill in and out of her until my own wave of pleasure washes over me.

I come so hard that I rest my forehead on the shower wall, breathing heavily and processing what I just did. I’ve masturbated to Gillian a lot over the years, but seeing her yesterday made it so much more intense.

“Stop!” The bathroom door whips open.

My head flies up off the shower wall. Seconds later, the toilet seat hits the back of the toilet.

“What the fuck, Emmett?”

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your beat-off session. Aunt Darla poisoned me with her potato salad last night.”

“Get out!” I shout.

“Too late for that.”

I whip the curtain open to find my brother sitting on the can. His eyes zero in at my dick.

I yank a towel off the rack and wrap it around myself. “Stop looking.”

“You’re at eye level.”

I step out of the shower to get the hell out of here. “I’m sure there are other bathrooms in this house. Or better yet, I’ll bet you have some at your place. Why the hell are you in mine?”

“It’s ours. Just because you’re staying here doesn’t mean it’s yours. And I do my best work here.”

“You’re sick.” I walk out the door and into the hall.

“Don’t worry, women say size doesn’t matter.” He cackles.

“Fuck off!” I slam my bedroom door shut, closing off Emmett’s laughter.

Dr. Whitaker’s office is in downtown Willowbrook, so I park my dad’s truck in one of the angled parking spots and walk down three storefronts to where his name is on the window. I fucking hate the dentist.

The bell rings, and a bunch of magazines lower, searching out who just came in. I lift my hand and wave, scanning the group. A set of blue eyes stops me from continuing in. Our gazes lock and hold, just as they did yesterday.

Well, shit, I guess it’s time to take the plunge. We’re going to be circling one another with how small this town is.

First, I approach the receptionist behind the counter.

“Welcome home, Benny,” she says, her long fingernails typing on the keyboard.

“Hi, Mrs. Fortmeyer. Ready to win the chili contest at the state fair again?”

“You know it.” Her pink lipstick is stained on her front tooth. “I checked you in. Have a seat.”

I glance at the packed room full of people and back to her. “How long is the wait?”

“Oh, not too long.” She smiles sweetly.

I plaster on a fake smile and imagine biting into that juicy burger tonight.

I look around and swallow a laugh because someone has to be messing with me. Is Emmett here? The only chair available is right next to Gillian, and it’s not even two seats. It’s one of those double chairs with no bar to separate us.

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