my cock faster and tighter.
From the moment I’d laid eyes on her, everything about her turned me on and there wasn’t a single way I didn’t dream about fucking her. It was an obsession from the start.
But why?
She was moody, intolerant, judgmental…and while I knew exactly where her distrust and hard heart came from, she refused to warm toward me after all this time. If she hadn’t by now, she wouldn’t.
Loving a guarded girl, I had realized, was a pyrrhic victory. The rare moments of happiness came at too great a cost.
But there she was, always in my dreams—beautiful and bare—letting me ride her and lose myself in her lips and scent.
I stroked again and again, my cock hard and fully erect, the images of her buried in my sheets—soft and sweet—filling my head as my cock dripped for her.
And I went with it. Fuck it.
I tried to forget her with others. I went with women who looked nothing like her, so I could get her out of my system, but at the end of the day, it only hurt me more.
I tightened my stomach, feeling myself coming, and I envisioned myself inside her, going hard and making her moan.
Because maybe if I could screw her, I could leave, and it would be like someone flipped a switch where she no longer mattered.
“Fuck me, baby,” I gritted out, tugging on my dick faster and faster. “Come on, spread your legs.”
In my head, there she was—plastered to the mattress under my weight and my nose buried in her hair as I drove into her. She kissed me and smiled and God, she wanted it, the soft skin of her tight stomach sticky with sweat as I moved on top of her.
I tensed, jerked, and threw off the sheet, spilling all over my hand, cum shooting out, and I swear I could feel her tight heat over my cock. I knew exactly what she felt like.
I gasped and exhaled, melting into the bed as the orgasm wracked through me, and I grunted, letting it course.
Fuck.
Finally, I opened my eyes.
A pyrrhic victory. And here I was, pretty sure that no cost was too great to just be able to hold her. It kind of scared me what I’d pay.
Rising from the bed, I grabbed a cloth and cleaned up, tossing it down the laundry chute before yanking a towel that was hung over the chair and wrapping it around my waist.
Rory was always in the steam room before the rest of us were awake. I needed some time alone with him, and it had to be today.
Descending the stairs, I headed down the hallway, almost hesitating at her room, tempted to make sure she was fine, but I passed it by and jogged down the next set of stairs, heading through the foyer.
Taking a left in the quiet house, I walked down the dark hallway, toward the natatorium, and entered, swinging open the frosted glass door of the steam room.
As routine as a serial killer, Rory Geardon sat on the tiled bench, leaning against the wall as vapor billowed around him.
He opened his eyes.
“Hey,” I said.
He jerked his chin at me. “Hey.”
“Going hunting soon?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “You coming?”
“Maybe.” I could use some fresh air, but I wasn’t leaving her in the house alone, either.
I sat a few feet away, the heat coating my skin like a blanket.
I loved steam rooms. It detoxed me, relaxed me, and reminded me of home. The one at Hunter-Bailey in Meridian City was twice as big, and it was where Michael, Kai, and I had some of our most important business meetings. If I wasn’t too hungover that day.
“So, Devil’s Night, huh?” Rory mused at my side. “This Thunder Bay of yours is starting to sound like an adult Disneyland.”
I grinned. “I miss it.”
He grabbed an extra towel he’d brought in and wiped down his face. “Even though that’s where your family is?”
He assumed I didn’t want to see my family. He thought my parents sent me here, so why would I want to go back? Like Micah and Aydin, Rory didn’t have any faith or trust in the ones who gave up on him. There was no going home for them.
Not really.
But my situation was different. “I didn’t deserve to go to prison, but… I might’ve deserved this.” It got me clean and sober. “Besides, the family I chose would never send me here. They’re what I’m returning to,” I told him.
“Well, I’m never going home,” he