Page 26 of Sweet Addiction

My whole body buzzes with excitement. My dove is on the track team. Jason probably thinks it’s a punishment. Little does he know he has done me a solid. I grin. “Perfect. I look forward to it.” His beady gaze narrows once more before he looks away. I almost want to laugh. He is pissed because I didn’t react to his taunting words. Had it been a month ago, I would have kicked his ass and apart from the little incident with Talan yesterday, I have been on my best behavior. See people can change if they are given the right incentive. Mine is my dove.

Fishing my cell out of my sweats, I shoot Madison a text. The night she let me fuck her mouth, I added my number to her cell, before calling it so I had hers. I know she will be in class right now, but I just want her to know that I am thinking about her. Last night she was upset. Though her relationship with Scarlett is complex, I know she feels guilty about what we did. I don’t. There is nothing between Scarlett and me. Despite her attempts to change that status, there never will be. Yes, I admit that the whole situation is complicated. If the press, Scarlett or Clarissa found out, it would be shit storm. But my dove is worth the risk and the selfish bastard in me will not give her up.

Madison Devereux is mine.

Nothing or nobody will stop me from having her.

Me: I can’t stop thinking about yesterday and how perfect you are. Your pussy was made for me Dove.

I smile to myself as I press send. She won’t reply, at least not yet, but at least she will know where my mind is. On her. Always on her. It’s almost laughable how I am with Madison. I have never really texted with women before and if I have, it’s always been the generic,do you want to fuck,texts. With my dove, I find myself excited about doing mundane things such as messaging. I shake my head. Jesus, I sound like such a pussy-whipped idiot... though I can’t bring myself to care.

This is all new for me and I find myself wanting to embrace it. The feelings Madison stokes in me are something I want to experience every day and keep forever. My cell vibrating in my hand, stops my inner thoughts. Glancing down at the screen, a big smile curves my lips when I see she has replied.

Dove: Bit presumptuous of you to add your number to my cell. And the name? Really? Master McCabe? This isn’t some B-rated BDSM movie. Stop messaging me when I am in class.

I chuckle as I push through the doors to outside.

Me: It can be; just say the word. I can introduce you to all sorts of things, Dove…

The bubbles pop up immediately.

Dove: No thanks. I don’t think I ever want to have sex again. You killed my vagina with your monster dick.

My fingers dart across the screen.

Me: Oh, you will. And sooner than you think. I will eat your cunt tonight and make it all better with my tongue. By tomorrow you should be good to go.

I hit send as I drop down on the bench. Madison reads the message but doesn’t reply. After ten minutes of waiting—I have never waited for a woman in my life—I slide my cell back into my pocket and get to work.

* * *

Later that evening we all sit down for dinner. Madison squirms in her seat, refusing to make eye contact with me while Scarlett babbles on about some gala event she wants us all to attend. I would have rejected Scarlett’s invite had it not been for the fact she just said my dove has agreed to go.

“Say no more. I will be there,” I drawl before taking a mouthful of chicken piccata.

Scarlett’s mouth gapes, no doubt in shock at my easy acquiescence. Last night when she wanted to go for dinner, I came up with some excuse about being busy. Though she argued that we had not been pictured in weeks, eventually she slithered off out somewhere alone. Where? I don’t know and I don’t care.

“You will?” she breathes, sitting a little taller, pushing her tits out.

I nod. “Of course. The world thinks that I am your fiancé, Scarlett.” Someone chokes and with Madison being the only other person in the room, I know it’s her. I also know it’s because I used the word fiancé. “It would be odd if I didn’t join you at such a public event.”

Scarlett squeals. It’s annoying, childlike and something she seems to do every time she gets her own way. Gritting my teeth, I glance at my dove. Her gaze bounces between me and her mother, a flash of hurt in them. “Perfect. The tabloids will go crazy with you on my arm Knox,” Scarlett gushes.

I don’t correct her. Don’t tell her that I won’t be on her arm. Instead, my eyes move to Madison who is now focused on cutting up the food on her plate. Clearing my throat, I say, “I will be taking over as your running coach.” It’s the first thing that comes to my mind and will hopefully get her to talk to me. I want to hear her voice. I am an addict for this girl. She is my drug of choice and I never want to quit her.

Slowly, she lifts her head. Those green orbs land on me, sending jolts of electricity through my veins. This feeling, that only she can give me is what I want every day for as long as I live. “Great, just what I need. As if I don’t see you enough at home, now I have to see you at track,” she huffs.

“Madison,” Scarlett scolds but I just smirk.

“You do. And I look forward to it.I look forward to it very much.” I am being reckless with my lust-filled voice, but I don’t care. Madison shoots me a scowl, no doubt because she heard the double meaning.

I chuckle. Shifting my gaze to Scarlett, I am thankful when I find her totally engrossed in whatever is on her cell, that she missed my innuendo. Turning back to my dove, I smile and mouth. “I can’t wait for my dessert later.”Her cheeks flame red as her eyes widen in horror. She glances at her mom before those beautiful emerald orbs come back to me. Deciding that I want to mess with her some more, I push my empty plate away. “I could go with something sweet now. Somedessert.” Madison’s face turns even redder if that’s possible.

“I can ask Gretchen to whip something up?” Scarlett murmurs, bringing my eyes to her.

I smirk, glancing at my dove as I say the next words. “I could eat somepuss-tachioice cream.” Madison pales, her gaze snapping to her mother.

Scarlett’s fingers fly over the screen of her cell as her face screws up in confusion. “Pistachio?” she says.

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