Ambrose (The Theriot Family 5)

I pushed the mental images away. I could ground myself in reality more easily when I was here, alone, in a space that was familiar to me.

What I couldn’t quite get out of my head was the image of me jabbing a knife up into Eric’s heart the way I had with… No. I couldn’t think about that man. I couldn’t ever think about him again.

If I did, I might retreat so far into myself that I would never leave the hell of my memories. That wouldn’t only hurt me, it would hurt Dax almost as badly. I’d already given him so much grief by pulling away from him—away from our family—and refusing to tell him the whole story. But I couldn’t talk about it. I’d never told anyone, and I doubted I ever would.

When the gruesome images in my head had faded enough that I could walk without stumbling, I opened the mini fridge that ran off a generator. I pulled out a mason jar full of moonshine, unscrewed the top, and gulped down a huge swallow.

The liquor burned its way to my stomach. I needed the pain to take me out of my head and make me focus on my body.

I took another swig, then sat down on the couch and let my head drop back, making it easier to pour more and more of the fiery moonshine down my throat. I’d built up a hell of a tolerance over the years, but by the time the jar was nearly empty, I was finally buzzing the way I wanted to.

I grabbed my laptop from the chest that served as a coffee table and opened it up. Thinking of Eric had my body all confused. Maybe it had just been too long. I’d watch some porn, get myself off, and then maybe… maybe I could sleep. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been awake, but I was sure it was far longer than anyone should be.

After hitting Play on one of my favorite scenes, I tugged my zipper down and pulled out my dick. I watched as a beautiful woman with long dark hair climbed onto a stocky man’s dick. She rode him roughly as he toyed with her tits. I stroked myself, working my hand slowly up and down, not needing to hurry.

She eased herself off him and moved to take his dick into her mouth. When the camera zoomed in close on her face, I noticed her blue eyes. They were the exact same color as Eric’s.

Fuck. What if it was Eric with his mouth around that cock? I growled, hating that image. My cock was the only one I wanted to imagine Eric sucking.

The girl on the screen swallowed the man down to the root. I closed my eyes and saw Eric doing the same to me. What the fuck? Why was I thinking about this? I’d never wanted a man to suck me off before, not even on long deployments. When many of the men turned to each other just for the chance to get off, I never did. I wanted more than just a mouth or a hand. I wanted to feel a connection, not that I would ever have admitted that to any of the men in my unit.

I opened my eyes and looked at the screen again, but I couldn’t stop thinking of Eric. I jabbed at the keyboard, stopping the video, then slammed my laptop shut.

My sudden movements made the world spin. I reached for the jar and drained the last of the moonshine, but the liquor did nothing to clear Eric from my head. He was there behind my eyes, taunting me.

I lay back against the couch, and the room swirled around me. I tried closing my eyes but that only made the spinning worse. My pants were still open, and my dick was out and begging for attention.

Fuck. Maybe if I finished this, the Eric in my head would leave me alone. I was drunk enough that in that moment, I truly believed Eric was sending me these images. He was forcing this desire on me. I wanted to fight him. I wanted to push him away, but I also wanted him right there, his hands on me, his mouth on my cock.

I licked my palm and wrapped my hand around my dick, working myself up and down, keeping my grip tight almost to the point of pain. I lifted my hips, thrusting into my tight grip, pretending it was Eric’s mouth, imagining I was holding him there, forcing him to take me all the way down his throat.

Fuck, I was close, so close. I would have sworn I could actually feel his hot, tight throat and hear him choking around me. Had that bastard put a fucking spell on me? Was I going to need someone to exorcise him from my mind? My hand moved faster and faster.