Page 126 of Bona Fide

“Shit,” I rumble, seizing his shoulders and squeezing his muscles.

“I’m going to go faster,” he states. “I need to feel how much this pussy wants to milk my cock.”

He picks up his momentum, still strumming my clit, while my stomach clenches and builds.

“Fuck me, yes,” he groans as I slide a little off the edge to take him deeper. “My girl wants more. I’m going to give you all of it, every inch, baby.”

“Don’t stop,” I order, on the verge of breaking apart. “Give it to me.”

That was the key sentence for him to break out all his pent-up frustration because Jed starts to pound into me like his life depended on it, hitting the right spot over and over again.

“Yes,” I pant. “Yes, yes…” I rupture over the edge in pure euphoria as Jed continues to drive himself into me. A second later, he pulls out, jerking his cock and finishing into his condom.

Exalted, I can’t move, tired and flying high right now in the spacious clouds in the sky. Jed removes his condom and pulls me to him, sinking us deeper into the hot water that immediately relaxes my whole body.

We don’t speak, for many reasons.

He’s caught up in his head already about my leaving to go back to New York. I won’t be back home for a while because I have a wedding next week then another event for an art gallery.

And I’m deflecting guilt away from this moment.

Jed deserves more than me.

I'll never be able to give him what he needs. Especially since half of my heart is missing.

* * *

The clickof my lock echoes behind the door, reminding me that Mama is already tucked away in her new home and I’m alone again. That I have to finally face it because before I was able to hide behind her and now my curtain is gone.

Stepping inside, the moon seeps through the open windows, illuminating the sectional couch and coffee table. The cheap hardwood floors are clean, ricocheting the light off the white cabinets of my kitchen. My kitchen island stares back at me, forcing me to remember.

Forcing me to remember him.

Him and his carryout bags as he made himself comfortable in my home. A place where no other man has entered besides my buddy, Andy. The way his crystal blue eyes dredged into my chest and melted through my steel walls.

It feels like he’s still here. Like he’s penetrated into the structure of my home and will forever be within it.

With my back against the door, I lock it along with a deep breath. I only have to be in this home for a few hours. Mama is all moved in, she forced me to come here to get my “things back in order” and apparently spending the night two times in a row at her crib wasn’t going to fly.

Flicking on the lights in my kitchen, I open the fridge for a beer, only to find lemonade and milk. Marty has been gone since right after Christmas so Mama has already cleaned it out probably over a dozen times.

Glancing back over to my living room, I eye the couch, thinking it might be my best option for sleep tonight. My bedroom is tainted with flashbacks that I don’t want to relive but the sectional isn’t any better for me.

Marty’s room.

I’d rather miss my brother than feel the loss of Wade.

Because I feel the fucker as much as I don’t want to.

I’m not too prideful and selfish to say that I use Jed and Enzo to fill some sort of void for me. To ease some of the pain so that I can function without thinking how Mama could only be two towns over if I were home—if I had my old life back.

Now I’m hours away, needing to plan weekends to come over here. I can’t just jump in my car and spend a few days with an easy drive back.

Maybe this is why I refused to fall for Grant, other than his over-the-top cocky attitude and the fact that he shoved me around like a trophy doll for his friends to eye fuck. And by the time his political life entered the picture, I was done, closed off and out of business.

Dropping my purse on the island, I stride into Marty’s room and close the door, falling straight onto the bed.

I can’t keep doing this.

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