Page 143 of Bona Fide

I’m the same.

The pool of my own wetness starts to form in my panties. The appetite that started over a year ago; I’m starving like a vampire that has been desiccated, and Wade’s body is the only thing that can bring me back to life.

A large hand grips the roots of my hair, taking the only control he has right now, and guides me up and down the length of him. How he’s always wanted over the course of the year we’ve been away from each other.

“You’re right,” he mutters, letting my lips barely slide off the tip of him before letting me slide back down. “My cock proves to have missed you.” I hum along his shaft, completely satisfied with his answer. My hand trails down between my legs, and before I can strum my clit to the rhythm of sucking him off, he heaves me up by my strands to stand.

“Too bad I didn’t,” he sneers in my face. Before I can open my mouth, he squeezes my jaw open to keep me from speaking. “Before you get the honor of tasting my cum again and you getting yourself off to me, there won’t be a Hardison that will touch you within a two-state perimeter. I don’t share what’s mine, so let me help you—” He leans in, the smell of whiskey off his tongue wafting through my nose. “—I’ll be sure to make the message clear enough when I destroy both of their lives for the shit you dragged them into. Then, and only then, Shelton, will you get to swallow me.”

He drops his hand as his body and warmth suddenly leave me. Stepping away, my heart squeezes at the loss in his voice. At the animosity and disgust within his words.

I’ll kill anything to dismantle feelings that I don’t want to endure anymore. It’s the only thing I know how to do to cope with the things in my life. I have to have the upper hand or my life feels like it’s going down the tallest roller coaster and into a dark tunnel.

It’s terrifying down there.

I can’t slow it down. I’m not able to control the bends and twists or if we go upside down. I’m completely helpless and at the mercy of said problem, and that’s not someplace I want to stay.

“Have a good night, Miss Shelton.”

A tear hits my cheekbone before he turns on his heels to leave. A sense of forlornness slaps me in the face, harassing me that I’m never going to be whole again.

I’m never going to stop missing him.

My ugly and desperate scars have names—and the one that hurt the most was Wade.

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