Page 21 of Blackout-

Once an addict, always an addict.

Well, let me tell you something, we don’t get a choice in who we love. Our hearts lead the way and we simply hang on tight for the ride. A long time ago, my heart led me to this man and in sickness and in health, I’ll hold on tight. I’ll brace for every bump in the road and lean into every curve because that’s what you do when you love someone more than the air you breathe.

You ride until one of you die.

“Jesus Christ, Lacey, say something,” he pleads hoarsely.

Taking a deep breath, I bend my head and touch my forehead to his. Our eyes lock and my fingers toy with the ends of his hair but the words...they don’t come.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps. “I’m not going to tell you it won’t happen again. We both know there are no guarantees and I don’t want to lie to you.” He pauses to take a breath, and I recognize the struggle in his eyes. I feel it every morning after I’ve suffered a bout of depression.

“Not that it changes anything,” he continues. “But I went to a meeting the next morning and before you ask, it was just alcohol. I didn’t touch a drug and I haven’t even thought about drinking since it happened.”

“Okay, baby,” I murmur, pushing down the lump in my throat. Reaching around his neck, he grabs my hands and brings them to his lips, brushing kisses across my knuckles.

“I don’t want you to think this has anything to do with us,” he says. “You and what we have, it’s the only thing in my life I don’t want to escape.”

That’s the other part of loving an addict. As strong and compassionate as you try to be, there’s a small part of you that wonders if you could be more. If you can do more. If you’re the reason, they can’t get right with themselves.

It doesn’t matter how educated you are.

You’ll wonder if you’re helping or hurting.

If your way is wrong.

If tough love is theonlyway.

Loving an addict means living a life filled with what ifs.

“Look at me, Lace,” he pleads softly.

“I am,” I murmur. “And you know what I see when I look at you?”

“A fucking mess.”

“I see a man who has regrets, who wishes to be better. To be right and just. A man who will spend his whole life trying to get there because he so desperately wants to be worthy of love. I love you, Blackie, and I wish you would realize you don’t have to be perfect, you just have to be well. You just have to love yourself a little bit more than you love everyone else. It’s not selfish or wrong. Recognize your strengths and stop focusing on your weaknesses. Look at your life and see all your successes, not your failures.”

He drops our joined hands into his lap and stares at them for a beat.

“Is that the drug counselor in you talking or the wife?”

“It’s the wife,” I say softly.

Pulling my hands away from his, I throw my leg over his thigh and wind my arms around his neck. He inches back, allowing me room to straddle him and I meet his gaze. After a moment, I dip my head and brush my lips across his.

“Always the wife.”

Chapter Nine

Blackie

Askmost men how they prefer to be woken up in the morning and they’ll likely tell you a blow job. Most days I’d agree but opening my eyes and finding Lacey rocking her pussy against my morning wood trumps anything right now. The view alone is enough to get me off. Wearing nothing but a flimsy pair of panties, pinching her nipples as she finds her rhythm, she’s fucking gorgeous.

“Good morning,” she murmurs, meeting my eyes.

“Yeah,” I agree, moving my hands to her hips. Smiling at me, she goes still on my cock and drops her hands from her tits.

“I never gave you your surprise last night,” she says, tracing the music notes on my chest thoughtfully.

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