Page 80 of Fury

His jaw set tightly, his eyes were ablaze, his breathing heavy and harsh. Was he still fighting the memories? I thought so. Those memories were still alive in his hands, on his face.

I tightened around his length again, and he groaned. “You and me,” I stuttered.

Another groan.

“Yes, yes, feels so good,” I murmured. Every time I felt I had to assure him, encourage him. Otherwise, we’d always be in Med’s grip, and there was no way. I was peeling it off for the both of us, layer by layer every time.

His fingers dug into my middle, and he collapsed on top of me.

Holding each other, we rolled over and stared at the peeling paint on the ceiling, the mold in the corners. He took my hand in his, and I closed my eyes, the sound of our choppy breathing lulling me into a sweet haze, the tremors of my flesh vibrating through me. I brought his hand to my lips and kissed it. Sitting up, I slid the condom from his relaxed cock and took his damp cock in my mouth. I wanted to taste him and commit that taste to memory through the many days and nights ahead on my own.

“Bitch, stop,” he groaned, laughing.

Releasing his slick velvety smoothness, I giggled, resting my head on his middle. “I have good news for you, baby.”

His scarred hand went to the side of my face. “Oh yeah? Tell me.”

“I got into a design school, part time. I start in a few weeks.”

“Huh?” Blinking, he wiped a hand across his eyes.

I sat up and straddled his lap, facing him. “An art school here in Chicago. I got in.”

“What do you mean?”

“I applied to the night program at a school for fashion design and tailoring, and I got in.”

He didn’t reply.

My back tensed under his suddenly firmer grip. “I thought you’d be proud of me. Happy for me.”

He let out a ragged breath. “I am. I mean, yeah, that’s great. Really great. I’m proud of you, baby, I am.”

“Then?”

“That means that you’ll be staying here, though. You see?”

“Right.”

“I want you closer to me. I thought that’s what you wanted too.”

“I do want that, more than anything. But things haven’t really changed. I can’t just walk into your clubhouse, the two of us hand in hand, can I?”

His eyes tightened, his jaw hardening. He was angry, frustrated.

“What is it? Did something happen? Tell me.”

“It’s Med. I saw him. He’s still looking for you. He’s real pissed. He made accusations about me taking you, and my prez defended me. All my bros did.”

An icy chill stole through me. “Shit.”

“We got to keep things real tight for a little while longer. So, yeah, actually, you staying put here is probably for the best. Little while longer.”

A dull weight rolled over me like a heavy boulder, but I shoved it back. I wasn’t going to dwell on Med, not now. No way. “I have more good news, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I qualified for a work/study plan at this school, a paid internship. And I’m going to keep working a few days a week plus weekends at the store.”

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