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“Tell me.” I tighten my grip on him and say my next words against his hip. “Tell Daddy how badly you want him to make you come.”

A strangled sound leaves his lips as my mouth envelops him. Salty cum fills my mouth so fast I almost choke on it. I watch him ride the pleasure, the tense set of his shoulders, and the lines around his eyes loosen as he sags against the wall. So fucking pretty. Mine.

18

Joey

Ishouldn’t be here with him.

He feels too good. Like that first gasp of oxygen when you’ve held your breath too long and your lungs are screaming for air. He’s a drug I’ve become addicted to and I can’t afford the distraction.

Nick stands with a confident smirk on his angular face. I’m weak right now, mentally, and he knows it, but I know he won’t take advantage. I can trust him.

I do trust him.

He covers my body with his, grasping my hand and intertwining our fingers together above my head as he kisses me. It’s slow and deep and everything I need right now. The salty flavor of myself on his tongue is sexy as fuck. How does he always know what I need? I can’t even anticipate my siblings’ needs and I grew up with them.

“Joey.” My name is a whisper on his breath, and I snap back to the present. Our foreheads are pressed together like he can create a world that’s just us. How true I wish that was. I would give my left nut to not be responsible for anyone but me. No siblings, no team. I love them, but the weight of them is so fucking heavy sometimes.

“Baby, are you with me?” His lips are a ghost on mine. “Nothing matters but me.”

He has no idea how true that statement is. It’s so hard to fight it. Even when he’s not around.

“Yes,” I mumble across his jaw.

“Good boy.”

The simple praise brings warmth to the frigid chunks of my heart that I shut the door on a long time ago. I don’t have time to want praise. I don’t have time for my own needs, only everyone else’s.

I can’t need him.

It hurts.

My chest constricts, not letting my lungs get enough air. I can’t do this. Not again. It’s been weeks of trying to get him out of my head and I’ve failed in every way.

“Nick. Wait. Stop.” There’s a panicked edge in my voice, a weakness that I despise, but he immediately freezes.

“What? What’s wrong?” He takes a step back and cups my cheek, searching my face for some clue as to what changed.

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” It hurts to talk around the knot in my throat and the tears pricking the backs of my eyes, but it has to be done.

It takes a few seconds but he steps back, wrapping a mask around himself as he gets his clothes situated again and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Okay.” He looks at my shoes and nods. “I don’t know how to prove to you that I can handle your life, to prove that I understand your responsibilities, but when you’re ready to let me try, you know where to find me.”

Nick walks away, leaving me in the dingy alley with my dick out.

I don’t go back into the bar, but back to my room. I can’t fake it anymore and my buzz is fucked. I don’t say goodbye to anyone or let them know I’m leaving, I just bounce. It’s fucked up but I don’t have the mental energy for it.

With the door closed and the lights off, I strip down to my T-shirt and underwear and lay on my bed. But I don’t sleep. All I can do is stare at the ceiling and wish life was different. Wish my brother wasn’t an addict. Wish my mother would take responsibility for her own kids. Wish my sister could get away from it all too.

My phone buzzes and I sigh. This late, it can only mean one thing. Matt is in some kind of trouble. Why am I the one who’s called? There’s nothing I can do about it. I’m at school. Since I’m not sleeping, I pick up the stupid phone and check it. Char sent me a voice message which means one of two things: either she’s driving or emotional. Or both.

Hitting play, I hear my sister’s voice thick with tears and the rumble of road noise.

“Well, Matty is fucking drunk at work. Again. Why he hasn’t been fired is beyond me. And is it my fault? I brought his stumbling ass home and Mom starts in on me. Why aren’t I a better sister? How could I let him turn out like this? Why aren’t I helping him? It’s bullshit. He’s a grown-ass adult! I have my own fucking life!” She sucks in a shuttering breath. “I swear to God, I’m going to stop answering the phone. You should too. He needs to fall on his ass. He’ll never get better if we keep bailing him out.”

The weight on my shoulders pulls harder on me. Char doesn’t deserve to deal with all this shit. I’m failing everyone and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m hours away from home with no car but I have to find a way to get some of the pressure off her. She has a fiancé and a full-time job and is trying to live her life.

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