Needing… something, I take the bottle out of Lila’s hand and finish the rest, still meeting her heated gaze. I toss the empty container to the sand and grip her tiny waist. With a quick tug, I pull her up against my crotch and she gasps.
Without a word, Lila wraps her arms around my neck and we begin to dance—grinding, rubbing—the sensuality of her touch near overwhelming. It’s both the strangest and most thrilling experience of my life.
“Your eyes are so beautiful,” Lila murmurs, her fingernails scratching up and down my neck before trailing into my hair. “Brown and blue. One of each.”
“You’re beautiful,” I respond, my voice husky from my still parched throat. Fuck it’s hot out. “I never noticed before.” My hand finds her face, shining with a light sheen of sweat, and I trail my thumb across her lower lip. Lila opens her mouth and bites down, sucking my thumb into her hot, wet mouth. The intense heat ignites a fiery blaze that trails down my spine and straight to my cock.
“I’ve noticed you,” Lila whispers, twirling her tongue around my thumb.
My head is spinning with a barrage of incredible sensations. I feel invincible, as if I could do or have anything, and what I want right now is Lila. The intensity of my attraction is so high, my body is running on pure instinct. I lower my mouth to Lila’s, her flesh so hot it nearly singes me. Lila groans hungrily, sucking my tongue between her lips. I grip her round ass and tug her even closer, craving the connection, the intimacy, the touch of another human being.
Lila pulls back, her eyes dark, pupils blown wide. She trails a finger down my chest, stopping at the waistband of my jeans. “Let’s go to my car.”
She takes my hand and I let her lead. Right now, I’d do anything she asked. Absolutely anything.
It feels fucking great.
Abby
“Thanks, Em!” I slam the car door shut and wave as my friend drives away from my house. Happy and smiling, I put the key in the lock and walk inside. Exhausted, I drop my one purchase on the floor and drop onto the sofa, tucking my feet up under me.
I’ll only close my eyes for a minute, then I’ll do my homework.
“Abby!”
The sharp tone of my mom’s voice startles me out of a deep sleep. “Mom?”
“Abby! Where’s Nick?” I rub my eyes, listening to the footfalls of my mom’s shoes on the stairs. “Nick?” The loud bickering and stomping of my two little brothers entering the house and dumping all of their lacrosse gear drowns out her voice.
M
y head spins when I sit up too fast. I check my phone—five o’clock! “Mom? I fell asleep. What’s going on?”
Her feet pound down the stairs until she’s standing over me, all five foot two inches of her. “He never came home?” My mom’s blue eyes are wide and worried, blonde hair falling out of its usual ponytail, the loose pieces curling around her face.
“I-I don’t know. I came home, he wasn’t here. Then Em came and picked me up…” My heart stutters. What if something happened to my brother because I wasn’t here? What if he came home and went back out since no one was here to talk him out of it?
“Don’t,” my mom warns. “I know what you’re thinking, Abby. Nothing Nick does is your fault. It’s bad enough you have to be responsible for watching Jace and Evan after school. Nick isn’t your problem, honey.”
She’s given this speech before, and she’ll probably give it a hundred more times. Hearing it doesn’t make my response different or the guilt any easier to bear. My older brother is an unpredictable mess at best; at worst, he’s a danger to himself and others. His moods have been stable lately, but you never know when he’ll turn on a dime and you’ll be left with a depressed wreck or a reckless risk-taker.
“Come on.” Mom grabs her keys and purse. “We’ll drive by the school and see if his car is still there.”
“Aw, Mom! We were gonna play Xbox!” Jace whines.
“Yeah, Mom. I’m hungry too,” Evan chimes in.
Despite their protests, we all follow my mother outside. I struggle to hold back the tears that burn behind my eyes and swallow against the thick lump in my throat. Nick might not be perfect, he might cause our family a lot of stress, but I love him. He wasn’t always like this, and even now I catch glimpses of the real Nick between the periods when his mind takes away any traces of his true self.
“He told me he was taking his meds,” Mom murmurs, more to herself than to me. She inhales a shaky breath. “He’ll be okay, Abby.” She gives me a sad smile and turns back to focus on driving.
Two hours later and we haven’t found any trace of Nick. Mom stopped at the college, the local hospital, and a few of his favorite hangouts. No one has seen him. When we return home, our moods are dark. The boys are sated with the bags of fast food they’re clutching. My mom, like me, is too guilt ridden and worried to eat.
Mom calls Dad, then goes to her room to call the police. She knows they won’t do anything about Nick until he’s been missing forty-eight hours, but she still reports his absence. This isn’t the first time he’s vanished without saying anything, nor is it the first time we’ve had to involve the authorities.
Reluctantly, Mom tells me we need to get some sleep in case Nick shows up or calls us to come get him. She’s right, of course, but sleep doesn’t come. Instead, I lie in my bed, staring at the shadows on the ceiling as I alternate between hating Nick for putting us through so much emotional stress, and loving him so much that the thought of something bad happening to him has my anxiety levels through the roof.
When the phone rings at four in the morning, I’m still lying awake, utterly exhausted. The sound has my heart racing in fear. Please let it be Nick calling for a ride. My bedroom door cracks open and my mom’s tired voice cracks.