Losing Track (36 page)

“Breathe,” she whispers. A small smile parts her lips. “We’ll go as slow as you need to.”

Then she’s surrounding me. I can feel the pulse of my dick against her warmth, and when she rocks her hips forward, the most erotic sensation zips from the head of my dick to my stomach. I clasp both hands to her hips.

I meet and hold her gaze. “I’m falling hard for you.”

My whole body is stilled as I wait—suspended in time, until I see her reaction. I know I’m taking a chance, especially after I just scared her so badly she took off for days…but I can’t hold back with her. All or nothing. She has to accept that about me.

Instead of the fear I expect, she says, “Boone Randall, I fell for you the first time you beamed that adorable dimple at me.” Then she falls forward and crushes her lips to mine.

I’m no longer a starving man. I’m a glutton. Greedy and selfish, never wanting to stop devouring this woman, giving her everything so that I can have that one second of pure awe when her eyes flashed as she said those words.

Our bodies move in sync. I thrust up as she comes down, connecting. Becoming one. No longer two separate people seeking their own fix, their own pleasure. But experiencing it together, giving and taking equally, and I’ve never given myself this freely before. Or had someone offer herself to me so fully.

My hands slide up her soft thighs, and as her lips move more forcefully against mine, I roll her over, the bath water splashing around us, so that I can press her closer against me. Feel every inch of her along my body.

I support her head with my hand, so it doesn’t bang the tub as I drive into her, eliciting the sweetest sounding moans from her sexy mouth. Her legs wrap around my waist, her ankles locking together to keep me hitting that spot that drives her wild.

Kissing along her throat, I make my way down to her chest, cupping her ass as I capture one perfect nipple between my teeth. Just lightly nip, feeling her tense with each subtle sensation.

Her body directs me to what she needs, what I can’t stop giving her in this moment. I pump faster, my hips thrusting my cock deeper inside her until she’s arching her back, her breasts rubbing against my chest, the friction releasing a guttural roar from my throat.

“Don’t you dare pull out,” she pants. I lift up just enough to look into her eyes. Glassy and smoldering. I’m terrified…I didn’t even think about protection. It’s been so long for me. I was tested the last time I was in Stoney, but still. I should have…

She shakes her head against my hand. “Don’t go there. I know what I’m doing. I’m safe, Boone, and I know you are, too.” She swallows hard, my thrusts growing slower but deeper, clipping her words.

Still… “What about…?”

“I’m on birth control. We’re good.” She smiles, and it’s all I need to hear.

I bury my dick inside her so deep, she releases a soft cry, her pleasure wrapping around me like a slick balm to my pain. And as she latches onto me, her thighs forcefully pulling me to her, she locks her arms tightly around my neck. I buck my hips and thrust deeply.

As she comes, her body tenses around me. I release deep inside her, trembling as the pulse carries wave after wave crashing over me. My head drops to her chest, my breaths labored, and the feel of her clamped tightly around me only continues to send me reeling, needing more of her.

We lie there, listening to the sound of our breaths slowing, the lap of the water against the tub. Neither one of us willing to move and disturb the tranquility of the moment.

My heart lurches in my chest and I bound up. My breathing ratchets as I push the nightmare back under my subconscious. I swallow, feeling the dry pain in my throat, and suddenly the events from yesterday barrel toward me, one scene toppling on top of another.

“It’s okay. Just a dream.”

I hear Mel’s raspy voice, feel her touch against my back, and turn to see her lying near me on her side. Covers pulled up and tucked around her breasts. Her red and black hair splayed across the pillow.

She’s still here.

I fall back against the bed, stare at the ceiling. Then I’m on my side facing her, ignoring the twinge of pain from my ribs because I love seeing the sleepy look on her face, the freshly awoken gleam in her gaze. I run my fingers through her hair. “You’re still here.”

Her smile spreads. “I’m still here. You’re not getting rid of me—I promise. But I do have to take a crazy morning pee.”

I chuckle. And notice that my morning wood is not going down quick enough; she’s too sexy first thing in the morning. “I may have to wait a painfully long time.” I sigh, feeling my wood grow into a full-on boner. Awesome.

“I’ll suffer with you,” she says, winking. “Besides, I’ve been lying here trying to figure out how to tell you something.”

Moving closer to her, I lay my hand on her hip, splay my fingers along the slim dip of her waist. “We don’t have to pretend things are going to come easy to us, Mel. We have a lifetime of prep for this part, let’s keep it real, okay? Just tell me.”

She nods against the pillow. “That’s what I love about you, guy. Awkward honesty and all.” Pushing herself up onto her elbow, she leans into me, her lips finding mine. I kiss her back tenderly, still overwhelmed and relieved that she decided to stay—to stick it out. For now, that’s all either of us can do.

Pulling away, she rests her forehead to mine. Inhales a shaky breath. “Being sober…it’s going to be hard, Boone.” She leans back and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth before she adds, “I can’t do this for anyone else. It has to be for me. And I’m going to fuck up…probably a lot.”

I remove my hand from her waist and clasp her chin, run my finger over her pouty bottom lip. “I’m no saint, Mel.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. I don’t have half the determination you do.”

I feel my brow furrow. “Yes, you do. And we’ll figure all this out. Day one starts here. One second at a time, right?”

A tear rolls down her cheek, and I clear it away with my thumb. “Just promise me patience,” she says. “I won’t ask for anything else, or anything more.”

A smile stretches my lips. “You already have so much more of me than that…you never have to ask.”

She nods shakily. “All right. Then I need to call Jacquie.”

I tilt my head in confusion, and she says, “I need to check in and also get her to help me with something.”

“Okay. But first, a pact.” I sit up and turn toward the nightstand, to where she keeps the matching bandana to the one she wears daily. I grab it and hope that I’m not pushing her too hard, too fast.

But I long since learned the darkness doesn’t let you leave, you have to light your own candle and find a way to live among it. And she’s going to have to keep whatever promise she made to her friend before she can start to put the past behind her.

Sliding up next to her again, I wrap the bandana around her wrist. “Have you said your proper goodbye yet?”

A stream of tears leak from the corners of her eyes, and she sniffs them back with a jerk of her head. “I’m saving that for in person. I promised I’d get her out of our hometown, away from her dad…and now she’s right back there again. I can’t leave her there.”

A lot more of this woman comes into focus, and my heart feels like it’s being crushed. I wrap my arms around her, and say, “I’ll help you keep that promise. Whatever you need, we’ll do it together, all right? Pact?”

She nods. “All right. Pact.”

As I kiss her, trying my damndest to make her forget her pain, I make my own vow.

Not just for myself, or Hunter, or because it’s the right thing to do. But because it’s time to finally embark on that last step.

Melody

28 Days Later

SHOVING MY FRESHLY LAUNDERED clothes into my trash bag, I grumble, “I cannot believe we actually have to walk out with a flipping trash bag. It’s so…trashy.”

A hearty laugh sounds from behind me, and I smile. “Really?” I heave another pair of jeans into the bag. “Come on, Nurse Bridge, you can do better than this.”

Nurse Bridge snatches the trash bag out of my hand and gives me a glaring look. “You know, I’ve had some stubborn, cranky patients before, but you take the cake, princess.” She shakes her head, all serious, and I can’t help but smile.

“You know you’ll miss me. Just admit it.”

Her smile drops, and I feel the seriousness of this moment pressing on me, like the room is shrinking, walls closing in.

This is it.

“I won’t miss you,” she says, plopping my bag on the bed, then fisting her hands on her wide hips. “And you know why? Because I never want to see you in here again. I mean that.”

With a heavy breath, I nod. “I know.”

“Do you?” She cocks her head. “I told you once, you’re different. And I’ll be damned if you didn’t prove just that. It’s rare when a patient who’s forced into rehab actually turns right around and readmits themselves voluntarily. That doesn’t happen often, Mel. And you better not waste this chance—it’s even more of a rarity.”

Damn. I’m going to miss her big mama self. “Just give it to me straight, why don’t ya?”

She laughs. “Would it penetrate that thick head of yours, otherwise?”

I roll my eyes. “I have a thin, pretty head, thanks.” I glance around my small room; the same one I had before when I was first admitted. But this time, I don’t dread its walls. I don’t feel locked up and isolated.

A different kind of fear envelops me. The one where I’m afraid to leave. Not sure if I can keep my shit together on the other side of them.

“Hey,” Nurse Bridge cuts into my thoughts. I look at her, and she says, “You’re going to be okay, Mel. Nothing to fear.”

With that extra vote of confidence, I smile and head to my bed where I tweak out the journal from between my mattresses. The poems and stories I’ve spent the past month creating. The moments I shared with people on the road, the times I had, the lessons learned, the mistakes made—it’s all documented.

It’s my life, and it’s my foundation.

I don’t know what tomorrow will be, but I do want a tomorrow. I do understand how to
have
a tomorrow. That’s my ultimate aim. My new motto; the one I recite when I feel the anxiety start to pull me under. I want to live, and I want to be as happy as I can in this life.

As I tie off my trash bag, Ari enters our room, her arms crossed over her chest. She’s gained some weight during her extended stay here, and I’m hoping that when she transfers to her new college, she’ll continue to see herself the way I do—beautiful and smart. Capable.

She moves beside me and brings something from behind her back. A pink journal. “We can’t really get any good going away presents up in here,” she says, shaking her head. “But I still wanted you to have something from me.”

I accept the gift and flip open to the first page. A poem written by her, and her contact information. “Ari, this is…”

“It’s nothing,” she says. “Don’t make a thing out of it. And read the poem later.” Her thin face blushes, and I close the journal.

“Thanks.” I give her a tight smile. “And listen, when you get settled at your new school, if you ever need anything…just call, okay? I’ll be there.”

She nods and smiles, but I can see the distress buried just beneath. The worry about having to go back home to her parents; having to start over in a new college. “Keep writing, Mel. I’ll miss you.”