Page 34 of Never Enough

The racecars on the TV become a blur. My car zooms, and it feels like I’m drunk. All that matters is her and the way she worships me with her mouth, the way she draws me out and makes me feel wanted. Alive.

She moans in response, and I know she loves the power she has over me.

The game enters its last moments. I want to give her all my cum at the finish line. I can almost taste victory, my release, as my baby waits, poised like a predator ready to strike between my thighs.

The room seems to shrink around us, the air thick with the heat of our bodies. I lose myself in the rhythm, in the raw, unfiltered connection of flesh and need.

My car crosses the finish line. First place.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—" The warning tumbles from my lips as I feel the edge approaching, fast and inevitable.

Then, with a final, fervent suck, I’m there. My body tenses, every muscle locks, and I let out a guttural grunt as ecstasy crashes over me. I thrust with not just my body but my whole being. Meanwhile, Daphne’s moan vibrates against me, milking every drop of pleasure, drawing out the moment until I’m spent and gasping for air.

Naked, I want to tell her I love her because I do. But the sharp sound of the front door opening interrupts our post-orgasmic bliss.

Panic slices through me. Our eyes lock, wide with alarm, and we scramble. She releases me with a soft pop, wiping her lips as sherises to her feet. Our movements are frenetic, a mad dash to erase any evidence of what we’ve just shared.

If Vic or Celeste find me here, they’re going to be pissed. I care about both women—all three of them, actually.

Aside from Daphne, none are ready for Daph and I to announce our relationship. It’ll destroy Celeste, especially.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Daphne whispers, yanking her shirt over her head, her dark hair a wild cascade around her chin. I fumble with my jeans, struggling to get them up over my still-quivering legs. We’re a mess of limbs and urgency, driven by the need to quickly dress.

She must see the fear in my eyes because she sprints into action.

“Go, go!” she urges, shoving me towards the window. My heart pounds out a frantic rhythm, adrenaline surging as I swing my legs over the sill. The cool evening air hits me like a slap, sobering me from the intoxicating warmth of her room.

I glance back at her, hazel eyes meeting mine one last time, before I drop to the ground outside, leaving behind the girl who plays the harp with the same passion as she loves.

The window closes with a soft click, haunting me with the lingering taste of her on my lips.

I’m crouched beneath Daphne’s window, the rough bark of the tree scraping against my palms as I listen for any sign that we werecaught. The night is a cold caress against my flushed skin. My breath comes in short bursts, misting in the air as I strain to hear what’s happening inside.

It’s Daphne’s ragged breathing that reaches me first, the sound steadying as she regains her composure. Then, there’s another voice, one that makes my blood run cold—Celeste. She’s in the living room, her words carrying through the partially open window.

“Ugh, what is that smell?” Celeste’s voice is high-pitched. “Smells like sex. Gross, Daphne. Were you masturbating or something?”

I wince, pressing my back against the brick. My heart hammers against my ribcage. We’re so close to being caught, and it’s my fault. If anyone finds out about us, Daphne will be the one to suffer. She doesn’t deserve the drama that would follow. I bet they’d say she’s a homewrecker and that I cheated on Celeste with her. This will lead to Vic making her life hell, and she’ll realize I’m just a nerd not worth her time.

From the safety of the shadows, I peer up at the window, willing Daphne to have the strength to handle Celeste. She’s been through so much already, but she’s never faltered—not when facing her past, not when embracing her passion for music, and certainly not when dealing with someone as shallow as my ex.

“Mind your own business,” Daphne retorts, and I can almost see her sharp jaw set in defiance. “Maybe you’re smelling your own desperation.” That’s my girl! So strong, so independent.

Celeste lets out a derisive laugh. “As if. Desperation isn’t a perfume I wear, honey. But whatever, keep being weird. Not like anyone cares.”

The tension coils tighter in my chest. Daphne shouldn’t have to face this alone. It should be me in there, standing by her side, defending our right to love each other. Yet here I am, hiding like a coward when she needs me most.

I clench my fists, angry at my weakness.

But I can’t announce the truth to the world. Not yet.

So instead, I wait in the darkness, listening to the muffled sounds of their conversation, every word a dagger to my heart. When Celeste’s footsteps finally fade, I let out a shaky breath, relief mingling with a sorrow so deep it aches.

What a goddamn mess.

As I slip into the night, the echo of Daphne’s bravery rings in my ears. It’s a song only we can hear, both beautiful and tragic in its silent refrain.

NINE YEARS AGO

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