Page 80 of My Best Friend Is Broken
“Dr. Torrino said I did well,” I tell him, unable to keep the pride out of my voice. “Said I have excellent instincts and good hands and compassion.”
“He’s right. You’re going to be brilliant at this.”
The conviction in his voice makes my chest tight with emotion. He believes in me. Completely, unquestioningly, believes that I can do this, can build a career, can be someone worth something.
By the time we pull into the parking garage under our building, I’m practically vibrating with happiness and energy and the sheer joy of having something to be proud of. We ride the elevator up in comfortable silence, but I can’t stop looking at him. At the gentle smile playing at his lips, at the way he keeps glancing at me like he’s checking to make sure I’m real.
The moment we’re through the apartment door, something inside me snaps.
All the adrenaline from the day, all the pride and satisfaction and the way Nicky has been looking at me, allthe love and desire I’ve been holding back, it all crashes together into one overwhelming need.
I push him against the wall, probably harder than necessary, and kiss him with everything I have.
His surprise only lasts a second before he’s kissing me back just as passionately, his hands coming up to grip my waist. This isn’t the gentle, careful kisses we’ve been sharing. This is fierce and demanding and full of all the confidence I’ve been building today.
I feel powerful. Capable. Like someone who can take what he wants instead of just accepting what he’s given.
Nicky makes a sound against my mouth, surprise or pleasure or both, and one of his hands moves up to tangle in my hair. The kiss deepens, becomes something hungry and desperate, and I press closer, wanting to feel every inch of him against me.
When we finally break apart, both breathing hard, Nicky’s eyes are dark with desire and his lips are kiss-swollen and beautiful.
“What was that for?” he asks, his voice rough.
“For being you. For believing in me. For looking at me like I’m something worth wanting.”
“You are worth wanting,” he says fiercely. “So much. Always.”
I kiss him again, softer this time but no less intense. It feels different than our previous kisses, not born from desperation or fear or the need to prove something, but from genuine desire and joy and the simple fact that I want him and I’m finally confident enough to show it.
“Good first day?” he murmurs against my lips.
“Best first day,” I agree. “And it’s getting even better.”
He laughs, warm and genuine, and the sound fills something hollow in my chest that I didn’t even realize was empty. This is what happiness feels like. This is what it means to have a life worth living. Meaningful work, someone who loves you, the confidence to believe you deserve both.
This is what it means to have Nicky. Nicky. It has always been Nicky.
I kiss him some more. My blood heats. It pounds in my veins. All I can hear is my heartbeat. Strong. Steady. Hungry.
Low in my belly, arousal has ignited. Insistent and all-consuming. I want. I need. I crave.
I pull away from Nicky’s lips. I drop to my knees. My hands fumble with his belt.
Darkness surges briefly as I think about how unfamiliar I am with belts because prisoners are not allowed to wear them. But then I’ve managed it, along with Nicky’s fly, and his cock is free. And right in front of me. And the joy of that is bright enough to chase all of the shadows away.
I’m far too eager and keen to do this slowly. I’m all impatience and a feral lust. So I open my mouth wide and gorge on him.
The salty, manly taste of him floods my senses, and I moan. My hands go to his hips and hold him while I feast.
He cries out, and it is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. He writhes, and I’m so fucking ecstatic that I am giving him so much pleasure.
Dimly, I’m aware of his hands scrambling along the hallway wall for purchase, for some anchor. Then his hands drop and come to rest in my hair. But he doesn’tyank, pull or possess. He touches carefully. Reverently. Strong, hot hands caressing me gently.
My eyes roll back. I hollow out my cheeks and I suck. Nicky groans, low and deep. His cock pulses in my mouth as he dumps his load down my throat. I swallow it all gladly.
When I get to my feet, I’m giddy with euphoria. Not only pleasure from the blow job, but delight that I succeeded in doing it. My demons weren’t able to ruin the moment this time.
I kiss him, and he moans. I wonder if he can taste himself on my lips?
