Page 71 of False Start
“Can I taste you?” she asks.
I nod. “If you crawl to me.”
Nia obeys and drops to her hands, her eyes narrowing as her gaze evolves into something so seductive, I nearly implode from watching her. She’s purposefully moving slowly, her hips swaying side to side as she prowls toward me.
And then she stops at the base of the chair and sits back on her heels, mouth slightly parted, waiting. I’m on the edge of my climax, but I pull my fingers free and extend my hand, shoving two fingers between her lips. She sucks them into her mouth, swirling her tongue, the jolt buzzing through my core like a lightning strike.
When she lets go, I’m so close, I could come from just looking at her. She has one hand between her legs, and I realize that it isn’t a show or an act to try to make me feel better. She’s just as into this.
The need to shut my eyes is nonexistent, even though it feels unnatural when I’m on the verge of climaxing. I’ve never stared into someone else’s soul during my own undoing. I can’t look away from her, can’t break free from this, and when I let go, clenching the arm of the chair with one hand, a rogue grunt escapes my throat despite my efforts.
“I think I love you, Cat.” She’s breathing heavy, like maybe she came too.
“Come up here,” I tell her, and she’s standing by the next heartbeat.
But it’s not love in her eyes I see.
It’s the drugs.
I try not to let the disappointment show, try not to let it ruin this moment, because it doesn’t take away from what it means to me.
And it meanseverything.
My guards go back up. Despite how much I want to give this girl more pieces of me, I’m afraid of what she’ll do with them. Discard them once I’m no longer of use? Sell them for her next fix?
She warned me herself, and if anything,I’mthe stupid one here.
The one person I loved enough to stop for is dead.
The words remind me that while I’ve had almost two months to process Lonnie’s death, it’s still a relatively fresh wound for Nia. She refuses to let it scab, to let it heal. Instead, she’s picking at the edges, stretching the cut open and prying her fingers inside.
She wants the new pain to take away the old.
It only works to a certain extent. The new pain distracts, but once the novelty wears off, they coexist together and hold hands to ruin.
And Nia is rubble at my feet.
“I wish you would have come to me first,” I cup her face in my hands as I lead her to my lap.
She swallows hard. I think she wants to lie, but she’s not prepared. “How can you tell?”
“You asked me what I know about addiction, princess. My dad died when I was little, only four. I don’t really remember it. But my brother was almost fourteen, and it really fucked him up. Eventually, my mom remarried, and my stepdad kicked him out of the house because of the drugs. When I turned eighteen, my step dad changed thelocks on me too.” This all feels like way too much to be sharing when we’re both so vulnerable from an orgasm.
But I can’t stop, and she doesn’t look at me like she wants me to.
“That’s not a parent,” is what she says instead.
“No, but I didn’t need him to be my parent. I needed my mother, and she let both of us down. I came to Devil Town to skate, but I came here for my brother, hoping that if we were at least together, we could make it.” The words turn bitter in my mouth, and I’m not sure if I want to keep going, but she nudges me with a look. “My brother was too far gone.” I say the words with a wave of my hand, as if they come out easily.
They don’t. Every syllable makes my tongue bleed with regret.
“Is he dead?” she asks, the soft look on her face like her own personal apology.
“He’s deadto me,” I explain, her grip on me softening. “Some people don’t want to be saved, and that’s fine, but he wanted to take me down with him too. I couldn’t watch my brother dig both of our graves. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”
Her tears fall freely, and I’m not sure if it’s what I’ve said or if it’s the drugs. “What?”
She shakes her head, but she finally clarifies, “What makes me any different?”
