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On my silent days, I miss you a little louder. -c.c.aurel
It’s finally time for me to do something other than just exist.
His kiss isn’t overly aggressive, though. It’s as if he’s really savoring the taste of me, and it goes straight to my pussy, making me clench.
I think I just found my new favorite scent.
“The Lord isn’t on your vocabulary list tonight, pretty girl,”
But she wasn’t. I only saw her for two seconds, and I could already tell. She’s cute and quick-witted, with a conscience, unlike the babbling dumbbells Nash normally brings home. She’s my type of girl, not his.
Focus on what you can control. A mantra that’s become all too familiar.
I’ve got to stop comparing myself to who I was. I’m not that guy anymore, and that’s not a bad thing.
I had to rebuild myself from the ground up. I had to face the mirror every morning and not recogn...
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“I just didn’t want that guy to have it or for it to be lost in his damn boat,” I tell her, meaning every word. “I would love for you to have it, though.” You can have all of me.
Making my way from my room to the front door, Nash asks from the living room, “Where are you going this late dressed like a slut?” I look down at my gray sweatpants and have to laugh. Just because it’s his go-to outfit for late-night booty calls doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t wear them anymore.
“Can I keep you?” I ask, my soft voice cracking with emotion as my eyes well up too. “As long as I can keep you.”
he steps in my way and pulls me to him by the back of my neck, tilting it and pushing back the hair over my ear.
just because he’s good for your hole doesn’t mean he’s good for your soul,”
“When I think about you, I touch myself.” She lets out a short breath in reply, but I can see the side of her mouth turn up slightly before she counters, “Yeah, me too. I rub my temples because you give me a damn headache.”
Love never dies.
“Here, you need to hold this,” he tells me, holding out his hand curled in a fist, concealing whatever is in it. I assume he wants to give me another piece of sea glass, so I reach out my hand. Instead, he uncurls his fist and interlocks his fingers with mine.
They only confirmed what I knew all along. Nobody wants to deal with my kind of crazy. And when push comes to shove, I’m on my own.
“Siren, wait!” “Shortcake, please!” “Blue!” I don’t even turn or slow my brisk walk as Saylor and I make our way toward the exit, only putting up my finger and flipping them off over my shoulder. “The crazy one is done with you.”
