Page 47 of Wreckin' Amethyst

“Don’t drink the water.” Slinking away, I return to my chair to watch the carnage unfold. Myles watches me closely, a strange emotion tainting his features. What is that? I tilt my head at him, curious about the stubborn rigidness of his back. How his hands ball into fists and mouth sets in a firm line.

“No more secrets,” Myles mouths and walks straight over to the refreshments table. Mila passes him a styrofoam cup and as he catches my eye, I shake my head. He drinks the entire cup in one gulp, crunching and tossing it in the trash can. Now?! He picks now to be a stubborn ass?! Then Mila helps herself and I lean my forehead on my palm. Sure, picking her pocket will be much simpler, but I didn’t bank on dragging Myles out of here whilst hanging out of his ass. My plan rests on a quick, unnoticed escape and then a vigorous run.

Sparing him a glance, he’s crunching another cup and accepting a third. Oh holy hell, it’s over. Well, if you can’t beat them – join them. Striding to his side, I take the jug and down the last quarter of the water directly from the spout. Accepting another few days of being spoiled while hatching a new scheme, I make my way back to the seat and lower myself slowly. As I’m the only one aware of the drugs taking root in everyone’s systems, it seems to hit me first. Or maybe it’s the anticipation which allows my blood stream to accept it quicker.

Mila is talking, her words lost to the ringing in my ears. Her hand moves back and forth, swimming through the air like a bejeweled fish. That sure is a nice wedding ring, I wonder how much it’s worth. Indicating towards Myles, her fingers shift my way, bringing everyone’s attention this way. All except Ruby’s – her hand is dipping beneath her waistband, a rambling of what might be Spanish escaping her mouth. How does she talk so fast?

Wiping my nose on the back of my hand, it tingles. Continually dripping without sign of stopping. Is it hot in here, or is it just me? I tug on the neckline of my t-shirt, puffing out my cheeks. Why is everyone looking at me still? Maybe my face is as red as it feels. I struggle to swallow, panting in small heaves.

“Look at something else!” I stand and throw my chair towards the refreshments table. Heads whip around, cooling me with the absence of their stare. But it’s then I realize – it wasn’t the heat of everyone looking at me, just Myles. His stare remains. Quizzical, knowing. My skin grows too tight, too heated. Needing to rid myself of the warmth, I start to strip. Sweatpants, t-shirt, and as my hands fly to my bra, Myles is suddenly there. Barreling through me before I noticed he moved. Slamming my back against the wall, his chest crushes me. His cologne infects me. I inhale him as if he’s the sweetest nectar of life, burying my face in his neck.

“God, how do you always smell this good?”

“Why is the room spinning?” he asks back, his body pressing against me harder. His crotch growing stiffer. Pressing his dick against my lower stomach, I shove my hand between us to close my grip around him. We both groan.

“No, no! Stop that!” Mila is shouting. I force my face out of Myles’ neck to tell her to get fucked, but it’s not us she’s referring to. I gape as I find Ruby’s face between Jo’s legs amongst the various other pairings. Adaline is entertaining two men at once, a mess of tongues and groping.

Sam rounds the back of Mila, his hands shaking as he only just refrains from grabbing her ass. His limit snaps, clutching her, caressing her, thrusting her back against his strained dick. Gray sweatpants are a terrible choice for a sex clinic. Mila’s protests are swallowed on a moan, her legs giving out. Sam goes with her, falling into a puddle of lust on the floor. I see my chance.

“Myles, I need…something,” I breathe as he kisses my neck. Fuck, his lips are tantalizing against my skin.

“I’ll give you everything. The world is yours.” Bracing my hands on his chest, I almost cave. My strength waivers, as does my grip on reality.

“Soon. Let me just-” I shimmy sideways. Myles follows, his hands on my waist. His lips on my cheek, my jaw, my collar bone. He makes holding onto my plan impossible. When his mouth takes mine hostage, I can’t resist.

Tongues collide, passions crash. Days of pent-up frustration, of this growing need slam into us both and my world spins. I tumble downwards, only saved from a concussion by Myles’ strong arms banded around my upper back. He slows my descent, places me down with too much care. Three words pop into my mind as quickly as I cast them aside, rejecting the notion. Deepening the connection between our lips and tongue, a moan is torn from the man pressing onto the length of me.

“I can’t have you like this,” he whimpers, touching a hand to my wig, purposely avoiding eye contact. “I need the real you.” Twisting my head, I swallow dryly against the sudden rise of emotion which clogs my throat. Myles is one of the only people on this earth who can claim to have seen the ‘real’ me, never mind ask for it. He sought me out in the dark, probed behind my exterior, accepted my flaws. Catching sight of Mila’s white jacket discarded nearby, I remember what it is I want.

“Not here, let’s go somewhere private,” I vaguely hold onto my train of thought. I need to get Myles out, I need to take him far away. Wherever that may be, he stays with me from now on. Dragging myself out of the cage he’s created with his body, I stretch. My fingers toy with the hem of the jacket before working it an inch closer. Diving my hand into the pocket, I grab the keycard and conceal it between Myles and I as the door bursts open.

“What the fuck is going on in here?!” Carl bellows. More men appear at his back.

“Myles, we need to run. Don’t let go of my hand,” I hiss. Instantly met with his blazing amber gaze, I see the adrenaline pulsing behind his dilated irises. Whipping me upright, held by his arm around my waist, Myles’ legs fly with the power of a tank to the back door. I grip the keycard tight enough to cut into my palm, slamming it against the pad with a beep. A green light gives us access to outside. To sweet freedom. The roar of nurse Carl right behind, does not.

“Hey, what are you doing?” the minivan driver calls from where he’s leaning against the door, smoking a cigarette.

Dodging aside, Myles runs like a man possessed. Like an addict fueled by the rush of pure cocaine saturating his system. He’ll crash soon enough so I struggle to be released and run at his side, arms pumping, heart racing. A self-created wind blasts against the barrier of my underwear, a string of laughter pulled from my lips. This is what it means to be alive, and the wide smile on Myles’ face shows he’s ready for it. Ready to embrace it, and everything that comes with loving me.

Reaching the edge of the car park, a long stretch of road spans before us, one lone limo speeding this way. It turns sharply, narrowly avoiding a ditch as the driver’s window peels down.

“Get in!” Sebby shouts, Charley leaning forward for her brown hair to catch the sunlight streaming through. Elation, greater than any high the drugs could provide, soars from my head to my feet, fueling the long leaps of my running like a graceful ostrich. I’m practically floating, only touching the ground when absolutely necessary, all the while my hand in Myles’. As promised.

Ignoring the shouts from behind, Myles skids to a stop to yank the rear door open and shoves me inside, his body flying in a moment later. We’re skidding away before the door is fully closed, hysterical laughter filling the cab. I laugh until I cry, toppling onto the carpeted floor with Myles joining me a second later. Sobs rack my body, tears spilling from my eyes. Hastily ridding myself of the contact lenses, I drag the wig free.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re free,” Myles soothes me, cupping my face. A faint whirring sounds as the divider between us and the front seats rises.

“What’s happening here?” I whisper regardless, scared of my own voice. “Between us? I don’t…like being vulnerable, and that’s all you make me feel.” Shivering, Myles twists me, pressing my body against his. Amber eyes consume my soul, devour my thoughts.

“I’ve felt that way since the moment I watched you rob my jewelry store. Then I got to know you, your spontaneous nature, your quick wit, and feisty attitude. I suddenly saw my life through your eyes, and I didn’t like what I saw.” Briefly pressing his lips on mine, they become tainted with the salty moisture from my tears. “You expose the weaker parts of me,” he kisses me again, soft and slow. “And it’s fucking terrifying, but I’m not backing down.”

Draping one leg over Myles’ hip, I press myself against his hard length. Still solid and eager. My eyes reveal the nature of my intention, their hooded lust difficult to contain. The drugs causing my skin to tingle have nothing to do with how I brush Myles’ blond hair back from the hard planes of his face. That’s all me. Lingering by his ear, I long to touch him for eternity. Contained in this bubble where the rest of the world doesn’t exist, where mourning and pain can’t touch us. Taking my hand in his, Myles cups his own cheek, shifting my thumb to stroke his stubble.

“Do you know what fuels a sex addict?” he breathes. I hang on his every word, needing the husky deep tone to fuel my next heartbeat. “The speed. The chase. The exhilaration.”

“Is that so?” I respond vaguely. Myles nods against my touch.

“That’s how the counselors here describe it, and I’m inclined to agree.” Rolling onto his back, he takes me with him. My chest leans into his, my neck straining to hold my head high enough to maintain his gaze.

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