Crushed - Pamela Ann Page 0,63

end, I would give in to one or two of these urges.

An addiction could be cured with another addiction. And that was the damn truth.

Chapter Twenty-Five

For the duration of our arrangement, I feared he would eventually resort to pushing the issue about prolonging this impulsive arrangement between us, but thankfully, he had been quite amazing at sticking to our plan. It was just the two of us, living each day without the thought of tomorrow. He even ditched partying with his friends, and if he did mingle downstairs with Cooper and the usual party crew, he would always have me somewhere close by. He didn’t want to be too obvious to everyone, because I had warned him that it was between us and Cooper, and as much as possible, I would rather pretend nothing was going on between us once there were people around us. He didn’t argue, and I was thankful for that.

One thing I noted with Brody was how he easily he would give me what I wanted just so we didn’t have to keep arguing about something he found irrelevant. It was as though he needed to keep me happy at all times.

It was bittersweet to think that was the kind of relationship I had always yearned for with him, yet I knew I had to let this dream go in a few days, because we weren’t living in the real world. No, in the real world, there lived a girl named Lindsey, and though he hadn’t spoken about her, she had been persistent in my mind.

The best part of sleeping next to him on a nightly basis was the amazing feeling of waking up with him holding me close before he would slowly have his wicked way with me. He would go from rough to slow to intense, all in a span of a minute, and I loved every second of it. He was a lovemaking machine, and I could not utter the word no when he was doing his tongue thing while his cock was busy rubbing and tickling my nether region.

My vagina was a testament to itself. It was always so damn conveniently wet and ready for him whenever he felt like ravishing me. It didn’t even need enticing, sadly. One look from him—the one with a glimmering wickedness to it—and my pussy would start doing what God created it for, which was the sole purpose of being Brody’s little minx.

As the time closed in on us, my heart felt it. On our last night, I felt as though he was packed with emotions that he couldn’t put to words, as if he was so overwhelmed with everything he could only convey his thoughts through his actions, starting by ceaselessly kissing me.

We were in bed, surrounded by darkness, while the other side of the room was cast in light from the moon, a perfect backdrop to the perfect end to our relationship, like any short, summer fling.

Our naked bodies were entangled as we kissed, and I felt his heart heavily thud against my palm as my body languished from what would come afterwards. Tomorrow. I knew I had made a decision, and I would never get to have him this way. The only time I could was right then … in that instant.

Silently saying goodbye to someone I had loved all my life felt like death. I could taste it on my tongue, seeping way deep into my bones, into my heart, leaving a hollowed sensation that hadn’t been there before.

Knowing what tomorrow would bring, I vowed to consume him as much as I could until I was out of breath, passed out from too much consumption of memories, of his lovemaking, of his kisses.

“Make love to me…” I whispered, begging against his lips. “Touch me as if you’re in love with me, please … Just for tonight, I need you to pretend you do.” It was the lowest I had ever been in my life, yet I didn’t feel a drop of embarrassment from the request. If choosing to let go of him and my love for him was death, then I would rather have it with the sweetest memories of him, of tonight, to keep me warm on the nights that would test me the most. The nights where I would cry myself to sleep thinking of him as I willed myself to believe I was doing the right thing, that moving on was the best thing I could ever do for