Fuck!
A knock sounds at the door, my head snapping in that direction before swinging to the clock above the stove that I can barely make out. It’s after ten at night. Who the fuck would be knocking on my door at this hour?
Standing tall, I brush my sweat-slick hair out of my face, dragging my arm across my runny powder filled nose before crossing the room, and yanking open the front door.
“What the fuck do you want?” I sneer as soon as I see his face, the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up.
Josiah runs his gaze over me before saying, “I wanted to check and see how you were doing.”
Scoffing, I turn and walk away, swiping the half-empty bottle of whiskey off the counter. It’s missing the cap, but that only makes it easier for me to take a swig when I bring it up to my lips. I’m well past the point of it burning as it goes down. My body’s too numb to notice.
“I don’t need you fucking checking up on me, Josiah. I’m a big boy and can take care of myself.”
He snorts out a laugh, his proximity to me much closer than I thought, meaning he followed me inside. “Yeah, really looks like it,” he mutters under his breath.
Spinning around, my hands find the lapels of his jacket as I shove him hard into the wall. A croaked sound escapes him while I watch him with narrowed eyes and bared teeth. “You need to fucking watch your mouth, Josiah. You don’t get to come intomyhome after you left town and act concerned for my fucking well-being. You can fuck right off.”
“Get over yourself,” he groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m not an asshole for caring how you’re doing.”
“You have no fucking right,” I grit.
Josiah swallows hard, both our chests heaving with rapid breathing. His eyes dip to my mouth before meeting my gaze again, the air in the room turning suffocating. My heart thumps, something gluttonous sparking in my gut. Before I can even talk myself out of it, my lips are crashing down on his, everything happening so fast.
My lips part on a breath, his tongue sweeping inside. With my hands still fisted on his clothes, I walk us back blindly, our lips never separating, until my ass finds the corner of the dining room table.
I sit on the edge, my legs wrapping around Josiah, urging him closer. Ravenous need thrums through my veins as his hand reaches up, fingers threading through the strands at the nape of my neck, forcing my head back and opening my mouth wider to him. He deepens the kiss, tongue devouring mine as his hips roll into me.
I’m hard already, but so is he, a groan tearing from my throat as his clothed erection drags along mine.
My mind is hazy, nothing making sense except how right Josiah’s lips feel against mine, and how mind-numbingly good it feels to have him grind against me. It takes no time at all for the kiss to become feverish, both of us panting into the other’s mouth. Greedy hands grapple at the too many clothes between us, as if we keep our clothes on, this won’t count.
It’s delusional, but it’s all that I can cling to as I clutch onto him like I may die without him, and my hips lift and rock to meet his. Fire licks the confines of my veins, an inferno sparking within me. Every movement feels like heaven and hell, every kiss more vehement than the last.
This moment can never be anything more than it is now, and I think we both know that. We can neverbeanything. Josiah and I are two black sheep, drowning in our grief, plagued by trauma, both desperate for a reprieve. And in this moment, we can be that for each other.
But it can never be anything more than this.
As much as my tattered heart has longed for him over the years, it’s wrong on so many levels. We could never work. We’re too broken.
“Segan, fuck…” Josiah breathes the words like a plea into my mouth, his hand gripping my hip painfully as we work ourselves into a frenzy. I drop my head back, his hot, plush lips finding my throat; teeth nipping, tongue soothing.
My body is lit up like a strip of live wire, my entire being beginning and ending with my endless need for Josiah DeMille. It’s maddening to know that something so wrong can feel so utterly right. That something I can’t have can taste so good.
He works his way along my jaw, his stubble scratching along my own, lips fusing to mine in a possessive, unforgiving way. This kiss seals the deal. It wrecks me. Destroys me wholly. His hips rock into mine harder, the friction causing heat to pool at the base of my spine. Gasping for air, I fight to grip my bearings. Josiah is dragging me under, and I can’t hold on.
Pressure builds. It spreads and crackles like fireworks, and as his tongue flicks against mine before he sucks it into his mouth, there’s no holding back. No holding on.
It becomes abundantly clear that there was no saving myself from Josiah and these feelings that have been brewing inside of me for years. No matter what, we were always going to end up here, with me falling apart, only to be destroyed later when he leaves.
Because he has to.
A long, low groan rumbles from my chest as he rolls his hips into me once more, my cock spurting thick, hot cum against the inside of my briefs. My dick pulses, body convulsing, a warmth spreading through my veins.
Josiah’s hands on me get impossibly tighter as he bites down on my bottom lip, and I know without seeing that he’s finding his release too.
The post-nut clarity comes entirely too soon, the world around us crashing into my mind like an avalanche. My throat tightens, eyes stinging with the emotion that orgasm caused by him brought on. Shoving him off me haphazardly, I jump off the table, my hands finding the length of my hair as I tug.
“You need to leave,” I say with finality.
