Page 69 of Lake
“Bridge,” I gritted out in a hard tone.
“Shit. Now, Lake!” she screamed as I felt her quake and squeeze the life out of my cock.
My whole body began to shake and tremble as the sweat started to dot my skin.
With one last hard thrust, I planted myself deep inside her. My hips continued to gently rock as I came so hard I was seeing stars.
I could no longer hold myself up. She had milked everything from me, including my energy.
“Damn,” I said as I flopped onto the bed beside her.
My arm snaked under her neck and I rolled her into my side. A smile tipped up the corners of my lips as she didn’t hesitate to lay her head on my chest.
Our bodies heaved with every breath. I held her close as we both came back down.
A shiver ran down my spine as her fingers lightly traced around my nipple then down my chest and stomach. A tiny giggle escaped her causing my smile to grow wider.
“What’s this for?” she asked, her fingers now tracing the lines on the inside of my bicep.
I tried my best not to stiffen but I couldn’t help it. And I could tell she noticed because suddenly her hand pulled away like she’d touched fire.
My arm fell away and even though I knew every little detail of the tattoo that was there, I couldn’t help but look at it right now.
“My mom’s name was Autumn. And Sandy, that was my sister.”
I felt her eyes on me but I couldn’t bring myself to meet them. Instead, I stared a hole through my arm as I began to talk about the one thing I really hated to.
“My mom was great,” I said and though I was blindly talking, I could feel the slight smile flicker on my lips. “She was sweet and caring. The type of person that would give you the clothes off of her back. Beautiful, too, all the way through. Her smile… it was the thing I will always carry with me.”
There was a lingering pause as I tried hard to remember the good things. That was what I always did even if that night clung to me like a wet blanket. A wet, cold blanket of darkness.
“Sandy was five years younger than me. And the sweetest kid most of the time. She was just happy, even when things didn’t go her way. Even though we had a shit dad.”
I hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud. But it was true, nonetheless.
Bridget’s hand calmly moved over my chest until it was resting over my heart. For some reason, the simple gesture brought tears to my eyes.
“She liked to call me Pond just to mess with me. She wasn’t really mean about it. And she would throw her head back and laugh every single time like it was the most amusing thing in the world.”
So naturally, I couldn’t even hate it. There wasn’t a thing about my sister that I could hate, no matter how old I was and how cool I tried to be. I didn’t care when she wanted to tag along with me. Some of my friends acted like they hated it because they had to watch what they did and said around her, but I didn’t care. I think they secretly didn’t really mind.
“She was funny. Always cracking stupid, corny jokes and going on like she didn’t care what people thought about her.”
Bridget’s lips were there, warm and soft, placing a lingering kiss on the side of my neck. It gave me the strength to go on when all I wanted to do was shut the world out and close my eyes.
“We weren’t rich, by any kind of stretch. But we got by on what my parents brought home.” I swallowed down the golf ball that was lodged in my throat. “My dad was a functioning alcoholic. He would come home, drink himself until he passed out and still be able to get up and go to work in the morning. It was usually his fourth beer in when he would start to rant and rave. But he was harmless.”
Until he wasn’t.
Until he changed.
“But when I turned sixteen, he decided that I was big enough to take the brunt of his anger. Which I did, because it kept the focus off of my mom and sister.”
“Lake,” Bridget whispered. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Only I did. I wanted her to know more about me, even the ugly parts of my past. Maybe deep down, I wanted to send her running and screaming. At least that way I wouldn’t have to sort through the things that were trying to push their way into my head. Or confront the feelings that had gotten under my skin for the naked woman tucked into my side.
“I was seventeen. Stupid kid. Snuck out just to party and… well, you know.”
