I love them.
I stood there feeling like a huge piece of my heart was torn out, breaking on the concrete beneath my feet. I wanted them to understand it wasn’t about the money or them cutting me off. I could do this on my own. I was grown-ass man, an adult. I guess I was just expecting unconditional love.
Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do? No matter what?
The phone ringing pulled me out of my internal struggle. I debated on answering it, but my hand moved on it’s own and before I knew it, the phone was against my ear.
“Austin…” Mom coaxed, her voice a soft whisper.
I leaned my head against the payphone, not caring how cold the metal was. My eyes burned so damn bad from the tears waiting to fall. I had closed my lids to keep them at bay and relieve the ache.
“Austin… please keep sending me postcards. Just tell me where to send the money, but please don’t stop letting me know you’re safe. I don’t care where you are or what you’re doing. I just need to know you’re okay,” she added.
I listened intently, holding back the tears that threatened to fall, one by one, right after the other.
“We love you, Austin. Your dad is just hurt. You’re our baby. Austin... Austin, do you hear me? I love you.”
A single tear fell from my face and I murmured, “I love you, too.”
And I hung up the phone.
<>Briggs<>
“Fuck you feel good,” he rasped against my ear, softly kissing down the side of my neck. His lips felt as smooth as I remembered, making their way down to my breasts. Licking and sucking my nipple into his mouth.
My breathing hitched when he cupped my * with his rough, calloused fingers.
“I want to fuck you with my fingers,” he groaned against my mouth, biting on my lower lip.
He gripped the back of my neck with his strong, warm hand. Holding me in place, working my clit, back and forth in slow torturous movements. He deepened our kiss, pushing me to the brink of ecstasy. My legs, stomach, and body quivered, tightened, and spasmed all at once.
Our breathing escalated. My head fell back as my mouth opened wider. It was forceful, urgent, and demanding. The way his tongue sinfully played with mine. He tasted like whiskey, cigarettes, and weed, with a hint of peppermint, causing a loud, moan to escape my mouth.
My back arched off the bed when his fingers slipped inside me, angling straight for my g-spot, as if he knew my body better than I did.
“Here…” he huskily groaned, hitting my sweet spot over and over again. “You’re going to come,” he stated, taking me over the edge.
I panted, fisting and clawing the sheets all around us.
He kissed every last inch of my skin as he slid down my body. When he reached where I wanted him the most, I gazed down at him through hooded eyes, while he stared up at me with a piercing blue gaze that tore into my soul.
“I want to fuck you with my tongue,” he rasped, slipping his tongue into my opening.
My eyes closed and head fell back against the bed. He devoured me, sucking on my clit as I rode his face, fast and hard. Coming apart yet again in a matter of seconds.
He gripped me firmer. His fingers dug into my hipbones as he thrust his tongue in and out of me. Eating all the wetness that he evoked from me, like I was his favorite fucking meal.
My body fell forward as if hanging off from cliff and I panted out, “Austin!”
I peered around my bedroom, shaken and confused when I should be anything but.
Alone.
“What the fuck?” I breathed out, waking up from yet another damn sex dream with the man I’d only met once.
My panties were soaked and my skin hot and tingling all over. My * still throbbed, mimicking the beating of my heart. I shook off the sentiment, pulling off the wrestled sheets that I was still grasping onto, throwing them to the side.
I took a deep breath, roughly yanking my hair away from my sweaty face.
“This can’t be normal,” I said to myself as I crawled to the end of bed, desperately needing to get up and go take a long, cold shower.
It had been nine months since I left Miami, and I still couldn’t forget about Austin. His intense blue eyes were etched in my mind.
Why couldn't I stop thinking about him?
It was like he had this hold on me. I didn't understand.
I had met him one time.
One. Fucking. Time.
It didn’t make any sense.
I stepped out of the shower and changed into a tank top and some cotton shorts. Brushing my hair and teeth while I looked into the mirror.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked my reflection before spitting toothpaste into the sink.