Page 50 of Indigo

“Oh shit,” she hisses, dropping her head back so that it’s resting against my shoulder, her curls sticking against her cheeks. “Fuck, fuck,” she pants, her hips jerking against my hand.

“Come on,” I groan, moving my hips so that she bounces up and down on my cock. “Come all over me, baby. Let me have it.”

Her entire body locks up and then turns to jelly in my arms as I continue with my punishing pace, closing my eyes as her cunt grips my cock so tightly that within seconds, I’m following her.

“Yessss,” I hiss, my fingers digging into the soft flesh around her hip bones as I find my release, and she comes down from hers. Grunting as I come, my cock twitching inside her quivering pussy, she raises her hand and slowly runs her fingers across the base of my neck, making the moment feel more intimate than I had ever imagined fucking in this position could.

“Blow my mind every day, Blue,” I whisper, still buried inside her, turning my head into her soft curls.

“Hmmm,” she hums happily, tilting her head back and looking into my eyes. “You’re pretty alright yourself.”

I love her. Fuck, I love her.

Instead of saying the words on the tip of my tongue, I remain quiet, knowing that even though we’ve beenIndie and Paxfor as long as I can remember, it’s too damn soon.

I kiss her, gently, but fiercely, trying to convey everything I haven’t said, but what I hope she knows, deep down in her core, the way I do.

???

Brushing my teeth, back at my place, not by choice, Josh’s name lights up my phone from the vanity. I spit the toothpaste into the sink, phone in hand, and reach for a towel to wipe my face before answering the call.

“Hey, man,” I say, wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear as I walk down the hall to my bedroom.

Josh and I aren’t what you’d classify as close. We’re friends, but the type of friends that catch up once a month for a beer and some small talk, not friends like Paisley and Indie who seem to be constantly texting each other throughout the day. How they still find shit to talk about when they see each other is beyond me.

Not that I don’t also message Indie most of the day, or pester her as she tries to work, but our conversations via text are a lot dirtier than her and Paisley’s.

Well, I assume they are.

“Hey,” he replies. “Keen for a beer next Friday? Paisley said something about her and Indie going out for a girls’ night or something, but the only place they can think of ismybar, so they’ve banished me for the night.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” I reply, grabbing a black t-shirt from my tallboy and tossing it on the unmade bed, ready for me to chuck on when I get off the phone.

“Easy, you know where I’ll be. Come by when you’re finished with work, yeah? We can head over toEddie’sor something?”

Josh owns one of the two bars in town, so usually we just pull up a stool at his place, shoot the shit and then head home at closing. I’m not a big fan of Eddie’s Sports bar. His drinks are expensive, and the place is normally full of grumpy old men who hate me as much as they did my father, but I guess this time we don’t have many options unless we want to head out of town.

“Done.”

And just like that, he hangs up, and our conversation is finished. Abrupt? Yes. But that’s how Josh and I work. We don’t prod or pry into each other's lives, only talking to each other about what we feel like at the time and keeping everything nice and light.

Tossing my phone on the bed, I grip the t-shirt and pull it over my head as Jagger pushes open his bedroom door. Being opposite mine, I can see straight in when we both have our doors open like this, and as I spot the cardboard boxes stacked along one wall, my stomach drops.

We haven’t discussed his moving out since he brought it up, and he’s clearly been trying to be discreet while packing his shit.

He looks over his shoulder, realises what I’m staring at, and gives me a sad smile before raising his chin in greeting and heading down the hall.

Maybe it’ll be good for me to see Josh. Maybe I should try a little harder to branch out and make friends…

I scoff at the thought and pull out a pair of dark denim jeans.

Everyone in this fucking town looks at me the exact way they used to look at my dad. Like I’m a menace to society, someone who walks around and besmirches their town’s reputation just by breathing the same air as them.

No. I just need to get my head around the fact that my baby brother is a grown man now, and move the fuck on. I need to let him go, and focus on what my life is going to be now without him chattering in my ear first thing in the morning, leaving his wet towels on the bathroom floor, and eating all the damn Crunchy Nut cereal, and then putting the fucking empty box back in the pantry.

It’ll be good. For both of us.

Well, for him, at least.

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