Page 3 of The Man in Mom's Bed
Like I’m dyingis more like it. “Go to your room, Katie,” I command like she has any reason to listen to me.
“Why?”
“Because if you don’t…I’m going to do something we will both regret.”
But Katie doesn’t leave. In fact, she moves closer, flooding my senses with her scent. All I can think about is burying my nose between her thighs and filling my lungs with the delicious perfume of her little young pussy.
Her breasts bounce slightly as she moves, and that sends me over the edge. Grabbing my coat, I whirl and burst out the door into the blue evening light.
I need to go. If I stay, I’ll ruin her.
Her voice echoes through the night air, calling my name as I hop into my truck and gun it, leaving the trailer park behind as I head for Sal’s.
My vision is blurred, and my cock is pulsing between my thighs as I fight to control the truck and keep from swerving off the road.
My hunger for Katie is overwhelming. Filthy thoughts fill my mind, all the things I want to do to her innocent body. Mark her, fuck her so hard and so well that she forgets any other man even exists.
By the time I pull into Sal’s parking lot, I’m so hard that even the feeling of my cock rubbing against my briefs as I climb out of the truck nearly sends me over the edge. I’m like a goddamn teen again. I haven’t been this boned up over a girl in years.
I’m shaking as I use my key and stumble inside the dark garage, the smell of oil and metal wrapping me up. Thank God no one else is here tonight. I’m about to stepwayover the line.
My cock’s been aching since she spoke my name, standing there in my shirt, nipples pressing through the fabric like she was daring me to act on my wicked urges.
I drop into the chair, yanking open my jeans. Relief and torment rock me as I wrap my hand around my cock.Goddamn it, Katie.
Pre-cum spills from the tip. I use it as lube as I stroke myself to her image—the shy little bite of her lower lip, the blush on her cheeks, the way those thighs tease me like an invitation. I picture her turning toward me, eyes wide, whispering, “Please, Cam. Fuck me.”
My body jerks, pulsing with a wild and unstoppable heat. Her name tears from my lips as a groan as I erupt over my stomach and thighs, shaking, gasping for air.
Then…silence. Only the rhythmic tick of the cooling system and the dull roar of depravity in my head.
I stare down at the mess on my hand, disgust wracking through me. “What am I doing?” She’s Mercedes’ daughter. She’s barely even eighteen.
But even as I promise to myself that this ends tomorrow, I know I’m lying. Katie’s already under my skin, like an invisible splinter I know I’ll never be able to remove.
She will be my downfall or my salvation.
Either way, I’m too far down the rabbit hole to care. I’ve never felt more alive, and there’s no turning back now.
2
KATIE
The thin wallsof the trailer keep no secrets. I lie in my tiny bed, listening to the silence from my mom’s room, a silence that’s gone on for well over a week now.
Cameron sleeps on the couch most nights or doesn’t sleep at all. I know because I hear his movements and map them in my mind like a cartographer creating a cherished map. Sometimes I torment myself by imagining the two of them together. I don’t know why I do it. I’m almost completely sure they’ve never had sex. But even the thought makes me want to cry—to run to him and throw myself in his arms and show him thatI’mthe one he belongs with.
Cam is different from all the slugs my mom’s dated. They were parasites, drenched in laziness that clung to them like rancid cologne that soaked into every surface. Cam smells like work and ambition. He doesn’t lounge around waiting for Mom’s welfare check to clear; he gets things done. There’s always this potential energy that radiates from him, like he’s a second from springing into action.
I know his schedule by heart. In ten minutes, his alarm will go off. And I’ll be awake, waiting. I’ve got goosebumps as I lie on my back, wearing nothing but the shirt I stole from him and apair of panties, soaked through with my own arousal. My legs are spread, and my fingers dangerously close to my center.
I shouldnotbe thinking what I’m thinking right now.
My hand inches closer and closer to where it should not be. Cam’s my mom’s boyfriend, for Christ’s sake! Why would he ever want me?
Suddenly, his alarm chirps, jolting me out of my dreamlike state. Water runs in the bathroom, the coffee maker gurgles to life, and my heart jumps. Every sound is like forbidden foreplay.
I slip out of bed, my bare feet moving silently across the cracked linoleum. His T-shirt reaches about mid-thigh on me, and I have been telling myself for weeks now that it’s good enough. I blame the fact that I’m wearing it on my mom not doing laundry, but the truth is that I wear it because when I breathe deep, ghostly hints of his scent sweep into my nostrils, filling me with a feeling of comfort.
