Page 11 of Destroyed

“You smell so good,” I say, breathing deeply as I nuzzle my face into her panties. “Can I taste you?” I ask, looking up at her for permission.

She bites her lip and nods, then lifts her hips so I can pull her thong off. I press her legs back apart and start licking and nibbling her other thigh while my hand finds her entrance. She’s wet and I slide my finger along her slit as my mouth inches closer. Pushing the folds of her pussy open, I lick her from top to bottom, being gentle and deliberate, remembering the way herbody responds. Her hips lift to meet my mouth, and I pick up speed, sucking and licking alternatively.

“You’re so amazing at this,” she giggles, arching her back and moaning. I continue my assault on her pussy, now taking a finger and putting it inside her.

“Oh, yes,” she says.

I put a second finger in her and I am met with slick heat, curling my fingers to touch the sensitive areas inside her. Then I drag my fingers out and thrust them in again, all while licking and sucking her clit. It doesn’t take long before her legs start to quiver and her breath gets quiet. I stay in one place, making sure to let her orgasm build without changing my patterns.

“Oh,” she moans, “I’m going to come.” Then I feel her tighten and pulsate around my fingers, the wet heat coating my hand. I ride out the orgasm, never relenting the assault on her, until she shakes from the continued pressure. She grabs my hand, stills it, and pulls me up toward her.

“Your turn?” she asks.

“Actually,” I say, “I’d like it if we can eat something and go to bed.” Her eyebrows lift, and I see the confusion on her face before she gathers herself.

“Sure,” she says, rising off the couch and grabbing her clothes. “Pancakes?”

I nod, feeling guilty that I’m using Sam for whatever it is I’m using her for. Comfort? Friendship? Someone to not make me feel like I’m completely crazy? “I’ll make the bacon.”

We cook alongside one another, finally settling down to our early morning meal close to 4:00 AM. She doesn’t ask me anything personal and I choose not to explain why I’ve suddenly asked her here, or what I want from this. Instead, we climb into my bed together and I turn my back to her, knowing she’ll snuggle up behind me. She does, and I wait until I hear her softsnores behind me before I let myself think of Xavier, the pain in his eyes earlier tonight, and how much this all hurts.

Chapter 7

Xavier

By Tuesday, I had successfully evaded six calls from my mother. I sigh when I see my phone vibrate on my desk for the second time today. I don’t have to look at the screen to know it's my mother calling again. Picking it up, I take a deep breath to prepare myself for the onslaught before answering.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Xavier. Oh my goodness, is everything ok? Why haven't you been answering my phone calls, honey? I have been so worried. Dr. Edgmont called to tell me you missed your therapy meeting again. Please tell me you plan on going today. You can’t miss therapy. You remember what happened last time don’t you?”

I grunt in response as she continues.

“I’m sorry Xavier, I know it’s a lot with everything you have gone through. I just…I just worry for you. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Why don’t we make a plan for you to come to dinner sometime soon with your father and me?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll check my schedule. Listen, I have another call from a client coming in. I gotta take this. I’ll get back to you later, okay? I love you mom.”

“Oh…ok…I love you too,” she says as I quickly hang up.

Leaning back in my chair I rub my hands down my face and groan out loud. I love my mom, but sometimes she can be a bit much. If we are being honest here, the last thing I want to do is go to dinner with my father. I haven’t spoken to him sincethe last holiday at my childhood home and I don’t intend to call anytime soon. It’s not like he’s an asshole or anything like that, he’s just never really been the picturesque father everyone raves about. I don’t remember him ever hugging me or telling me he loved me or anything when I was a child. He was just the man who went to work, came home for dinner, and left again to do it all over the next day. He would take my mom on dates or trips and there was always a healthy supply of nannies to watch me. That’s where my original love for watching people in sexual acts all started.

I think back, remembering the first time I got a glimpse of a performance I had no business watching. I couldn't have been more than twelve. My parents had gone out for the night and I was coming down the stairs for a glass of water when I heard the giggling followed by a male groan. I remember peaking around the corner to see my nanny on her knees for some man I had never met before. At first, I was confused, but it didn't take long for me to realize exactly what was happening. From that night on, it became a common occurrence for me to sneak down the stairs and watch the vulgar sexual acts between my nanny and whatever man she deemed worthy any time my parents went out.

Little did I know that many years later, that same nanny would be on her knees for me while simultaneously stealing what innocence I had left. I never told my parents what happened with her but I do remember one day she was just gone and replaced with a much older and much less attractive woman.

The knock on my office door pulls me back from my memories.

“Come in,” I say, silently hoping whoever it is will make the conversation quick so I can continue wallowing in my sorrows.

Lady luck is not on my side. In waltzes Kaz, looking like she’s on a mission.

“You can’t just fire your intern without running it by HR, Xavier!” She says while throwing her hands up in the air. She then proceeds to walk back and forth in my office while berating me for making her job harder than it already is. She snaps her fingers in my face when I zone out.

“Hello! Earth to Xavier! What is going on with you? You’re usually the easy one to deal with. Is this about Corrine?”

I narrow my eyes at Kaz. “Why does everyone keep bringing Riley’s sister into this? I would really appreciate it if you would stop bringing her name up in every conversation.” At this point, I can feel my pulse speeding up, but I continue anyway.

“Or better yet, Kaz,” I spit out, “next time you want to have a groping fest with one of your girlfriends on a dance floor, why don’t you go to a fucking skanky strip club or something?!” I’m practically screaming and I look down to find I’ve stood up from my chair and my fingers are white from gripping the edge of my desk.

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