Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
She rolls her eyes, but her cheeks go rosy. “He’s a mess, I’m a mess, but yeah, I like him. A lot.”
I smile. It feels like maybe something good could come from all this after all.
She leaves, and Chief comes around, sitting beside me and staring long and hard at my face, in the way he does, that makes me nervous because I know it means he wants to say something.
“Just say it, Dad,” I murmur, taking another bite of my sandwich.
“I just want to be sure you truly understand what being with an addict is like. It’s never really over. Not for someone like him. Every day is a battle, and even when he thinks he’s got it under control, one slip and he can be right back there.”
I know that. I think I always knew that.
“I know, and it doesn’t scare me,” I say. “Well, it does. But not enough to run away.”
“You’re a strong kid, Mischief. Always knew that about you. But sometimes being strong can be your biggest weakness. Because, in the end, who takes care of you?”
I stare at him, my eyes softening. “I take care of me. You take care of me. Mom and Reagan take care of me. I’ve got this.”
“Just make sure you keep your eyes open, yeah? One sign of relapse, and you walk. You can’t stay on this merry-go-round if he keeps jumping off. Promise me that?”
“I promise, but I have to try here. I have to do this for him. For Amber. For all of us.”
“Know you do, kid. That’s what I love most about you.”
He pushes to his feet, kissing my head. “You goin’ to see him today?”
“Today and every day.”
He smiles, and I can see the love in his eyes. “God was good the day he gave me you.”
My heart explodes and I smile back up at him.
Knowing he is here, knowing they all are, makes me truly believe we will get through this.
“Travis,” I whisper, as his fingers plunge inside me beneath the blanket. “Someone could walk in at any second.”
“That’s the best part,” he growls, fucking me with that perfect hand.
“A nurse or...oh god.”
He finds the spot, that spot that makes me come alive. I curl around him, like two lovestruck teenagers discovering each other for the first time. My moans are soft against his neck as I writhe on his lap, needing more of him. I sink my teeth into the soft skin along his collarbone, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to feel the throb of his pulse under my tongue. His hips buck, letting me feel just how hard he is.
The walls are thin, and the ward is always humming with the rustle of nurses on rounds, the distant sounds of a TV, the raspy cough of the detox guy in the next room. We could get caught at any moment, and that only makes it hotter. His mouth drags across my neck, and he growls against my flesh, “I need to feel you.” His hand slips from inside me, sliding over my flesh before pulling my panties aside.
I wore a dress on purpose.
A simple adjustment, and then he’s inside me, hard, stretching, pulsing. I groan and he smothers it with his mouth, kissing me so deep that nobody else can hear a sound. Then, he just lets me fuck him. Slow at first, my hips moving back and forth, more a grind than anything. Then, as the pressure intensifies, I find myself sliding up and down, soaking him in, taking every hard inch until it almost hurts with how desperate I am.
“Fuck,” he growls against my lips. “You’re fucking me like it’s the last time you’ll ever see me.”
“God,” I whimper, moving harder, faster, my nails clawing into his arms as I use him for leverage, use him to drive every thrust until there is nothing more than blissful release.
His fingers, firm on my chin, pull me toward him as he swallows every moan, before he finds his own release. His growls vibrate through me, and my skin prickles with the delicious scent of his skin, of his body, of every single thing about him. I will never get enough. I honestly believe there won’t be a single moment in my lifetime, where I walk this earth, that I don’t love Travis Phoenix.
There’s a loud bang down the hall, someone slamming a door. We freeze, tangled, his hands digging into my hips, my heart lurching in my chest. But no one comes in, and after a beat, he starts to laugh. A real one, and I can’t help laughing, too, our bodies shaking together under the blanket because fuck all of this, really, if you can’t laugh about it.
After, we sit by the window, staring outside, me on his lap, his arms curled around me. “Tell me everything,” he says, tracing patterns over my thighs. “What has your life been like in the last two years? I want to know all of it. Even the shit you don’t want to tell me.”