Page 70 of Pocketful of Shame

He pumped into my mouth with countless, frenzied, hard thrusts before abruptly stilling, face contorted in what looked like pained-pleasure. Holding my face perfectly still, he released himself into me, thrusting gently as he emptied himself down my throat.

I swallowed it all.

Every drop of him.

I took everything he gave me.

When he was finished, he slowly pulled out of my mouth and sagged forward, hands still tangled in my hair. His breathing was ragged, matching mine, as he continued to stare down at me on my knees at his feet. "I feel better, too," he finally said, thumb trailing over my cheek. "A lot."

"Sketch, I want you." Shivering, I covered his hand with mine and leaned my cheek into his touch, starved for his affection. "To have me." I swallowed deeply before whispering, "All of me."

He was quiet for a long time before sliding his boxers back into place and helping me to my feet. "Ro, you're drunk," he finally said, smoothing my ponytail over my shoulder. "I'm drunk." He shook his head. "It's a bad idea."

"I don’t care," I breathed, stepping closer. "I need this."

"You don’t know what you –"

"I need this," I repeated, unable to resist the emotions rushing through my body, through my bloodstream. Catching his hand, I dragged him towards the bathroom door and yanked it open. "And I think you do, too."

"Romi, wait," Sketch whisper-hissed, stumbling after me, as I pulled him towards the bed. "We can't go out there. Pres is –"

"He's passed out," I whispered, heart racing wildly, as I clambered over Presley who was still snoring on the floor and moved straight for the double bed. "And besides, I honestly don’t care."

"Wait, wait, wait –" Snagging me by the waist, Sketch lifted me up and stumbled towards the small twin bed in the far corner of the room. The minute he set me on the bed, I reached for my t-shirt and whipped it over my head and then quickly unsnapped my bra. Completely naked, I pushed back the blanket and rolled onto my back, eyes locked on his. "Come here," I whispered, holding the blanket up for him. "I want this."

"Fuck," Sketch choked out, hands moving to the waistband of his boxers. Pushing the fabric down his hips, he stepped out of them before climbing on top of me. Groaning in pleasure when I felt his weight settle down on me, I reached out and gripped his hips. "Shh, Ro," he whispered, pressing a kiss to my lips as he settled between my legs and rested his weight on one elbow. "Quiet, baby."

"I don’t care –"

"Well, I do." He kissed me again, soft and slow this time. "This is private."

"Okay, but I need to tell you something."

"Hmm?" Pulling back, he nuzzled my nose with his. "Fuck, you're so damn pretty it hurts."

"Sketch, I need to tell you something really important."

"What?" he asked, brows furrowed. "Shit, what is it? Have you changed your mind? Because that's okay. I'll go –"

"I'm still in love with you, too," I squeezed out, fingernails digging into his flesh. "I should have said it back earlier, but I was so completely stunned that I just froze when I should have told you thatI love you. The truth is, I never stopped. Not even when you broke up with me two years ago or when you thought I was a killer. Not even when I was supposed to be with Chris. I didn’t stop, Sketch, because Ican'tstop. And make no mistake about it, I am stillreallypissed off with you for being such a shithead this past year, and you have alotof ground to make up on that account, but so do I for hurting you on purpose by dating your brother. It was cruel and reckless, but you should know that you were always my favorite. Even when I wasn't with you. Even when I was burning mad. You have always been my number one…" God, I wasnotgood at this. "So, anyway, I just…I thought you should know that. I've been holding it in for a long time and I can't walk around on eggshells with you a minute longer. It's too goddamn painful. I love you. I see you. I'm mad at you. And I'm sorry." I shrugged my shoulders and stared up at his face, absolutely powerless against my feelings. "And what you did for me today?" Shivering, I reached up and cupped his stubbly jaw. "You protected me against those men. Yousavedmy life –"

He shook his head. "Romi, it's okay –"

"No, you need to hear this," I strangled out, chest heaving. "None of what's happening is okay. Not one damn thing isokay, but youare. You're good and real and imperfectlyright." My lip quivered as my emotions threatened to get the best of me. Blinking back the tears trying to fill my eyes, I let my hands trail down his chest. "You're right forme, Sketch. I could feel it in my bones when I was five years old and I still feel it now. You and me are what'sright, and I really wanna figure out a way to fix this with you."

"You really mean all that?" he whispered, chest rising and falling quickly against mine. "No bullshit?"

"No bullshit," I promised.

He dropped his face in my neck. "Fuck, Ro, don’t say it if you're gonna take it back."

"I mean it," I whispered, feeling the familiar pull as emotion roared to life in his blue eyes. "I won't take it back."

"I was a real dick to you," he said warily, pulling back to look at me. "That's somethingIcan't take back."

Exhaling shakily, I nodded. "Yeah, and I was real bitch to you."

"And what you said at the diner about –"

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