Playing Patience - By Tabatha Vargo Page 0,92

my jeans. She helped as I pulled them down around my thighs. She didn’t waste any time straddling me and pushing herself down onto my cock.

I thought the minute our bodies connected I would be lost. I usually lost myself with a good joint and a soaking wet woman, but that didn’t happen. Instead, all I saw were shining blue eyes staring back and me and sandy-blond hair instead of red.

I closed my eyes and leaned my body back against my headboard as she moved her body against mine. I didn’t really want to, but I think having sex with Stephanie was my way of pissing myself off. My way of proving to myself that I was exactly what everyone around me thought I was—a dog, a loser, not good enough to kiss Snowflake’s toes. And I would, kiss her toes, if that was her thing.

For the first time in my life, I was going through the motions of sex. I heard the bed hitting the wall and I knew Stephanie was doing a good job. I heard her moaning on top of me and I knew even though I wasn’t really into it, my body was doing a good job. Still, I felt nothing. The achy pressure in my abs and balls that usually came with sex wasn’t there.

I felt her warmth and I recognized it was supposed to feel good, but all I could think about was how badly I wished it was Patience on top of me. I wished it was strands of platinum locks resting against my chest as she leaned over me. I wished it was Patience telling me how good I felt, but it wasn’t. It was a saucy redhead who knew what she was doing and yet, I wanted it to be over already.

Like a robot I reached up and pulled at the back of her hair. She seemed like the kind that would like that and I got the response I expected. She sped up, the mattress moaning against my hips as she pressed me deeper into its springs. I worked my hands down her back and gripped her ass. Maybe if I pressed her down harder and she moved faster something would happen and I wouldn’t have to fake an orgasm. I’d never had to do that before and somehow it made me feel like less of a man.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention and the world around me paused as my eyes connected with Patience. For a brief second I thought maybe my mind had conjured her up as a sort of reward for a possible orgasm, but the single tear that cut a path down her cheek let me know she was all real.

The look in her eyes burnt me all over. It effectively made me feel like the biggest piece of shit in the world. The hurt she felt was evident and immediately it broke my heart and pissed me off at the same time. Who knew hurting someone I cared about would kill the tiny, living pieces inside? Who knew caring about someone would make me so angry?

I wanted to push Stephanie away and go to her. I wanted to hold her and tell her how sorry I was that she had to see this. I wanted to tell her I was sorry for being me, for not being enough for her, because deep down it’s all I ever wanted. I wanted to be good enough and since I had no way of ever becoming even close to good enough, here I was sabotaging any decent part of me.

Her name fell from my lips and then she apologized. Why the hell was she apologizing? She didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one in the wrong; I was the one that needed a good swift kick in the balls. I was nothing and there she was hurting over me, and then she was gone.

I knew in the back of my head that those tear-filled eyes were going to be the last thing I ever saw of Patience. For years to come, I’d have nightmares about those eyes. I’d lie awake in my bed at night and replay that moment over and over again in my head. It was the moment I broke her, the moment I destroyed myself.

I removed Stephanie from my lap and pulled my jeans up.

“Get out,” I said calmly.

“What the fuck, Zeke?” She stood there, naked and furious. “Is

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