“Fuck.” I lower my head and try to breathe through this torture. I might be almost done with detoxing from the drug, but it’s taken hold of my mind and that’s worse than the fever and chills.
“David? Are you okay?”
I grip the pizza box and steady myself.
Her eyes are twinkling as she sits naked and happy, propped up with tons of pillows.
And that’s all it takes. She is my light, and suddenly I have oxygen.
“What’s wrong?” She stands and comes to me. Her cool hands caress my wet hair.
“I’m fine, just sweating out the chemicals.” I look over at her flat-screen TV. She’s put it on pause, waiting for me.
“Okay,” she whispers.
And I pull her into my arms. Her body is all mine. She’s giving me everything and still, I want more.
“It’s okay. Everything is fine.” She holds my head as I fight the urge to throw her on the bed and fuck her some more. I pull back and toss the pizza box on the nightstand and strip out of my sweats.
We both snuggle as I hand her a slice.
“Are you ready?” I look at her and she’s got a mischievous smile on her face.
“Press play.”
I take a bite of the spicy sausage and pepperoni pizza. The cheese is still hot and I almost choke on the tattoos coming to life with the credits. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am.” She giggles as she crosses her legs and nibbles her slice.
“You want me to binge-watch Sons of Anarchy?”
“I love it. I think Charlie—”
“Don’t say it…”
“Say what? That he’s so fucking hot?” She laughs as I roll her on top of me.
“I can’t have you watching this. It’s going to put all kinds of stuff in your head.”
“Relax. You might like it.”
She looks at me with so much love, like I’m special. “I mean, if I trust you enough for… you know.” Her voice gets low.
“No, for what?”
Her eyes get huge. “You’re such a jerk.” She jumps on top of me.
I grab her face. “What we just did was something more than pleasure. It meant that you trust me, and I have not earned it, but I’m going to try to deserve it every single day.”
She cocks her head at me then lowers her ripe, puffy lips to mine and we kiss, nothing but our slow-moving tongues twisting together.
“Turn off Charlie Hunnam.”
“It’s Jax Teller,” she murmurs.
“Whatever. Get it off,” I grunt into her mouth since she’s already grinding her pussy on top of me.
She reaches over and clicks off the TV and it’s only us. The monsters, witches, and all my demons are quiet.
I breathe her in and steal her breath as I make love to her all night and well into the morning.CHARLIEI’m in a dark room, with water at my feet. Is there a leak in my apartment?
No, this is not my place. I walk and scream David’s name. His scent surrounds me, and I take a huge inhale. Smoke and spice, and everything nice. I keep hearing that play in my head, or is it something else?
“David?”
There’s no answer, only the crazy voice saying, Smoke and spice, and everything nice.
“David?” I try to run, but the water is getting deeper. I can’t move—
I bolt up with a gasp. My eyes dart around the sun-filled room, where David stares out the window, his magnificent back on display. The large Disciples tattoo that goes from shoulder to shoulder is the sexiest thing on the planet. I flop back as reality floods me and David is not gone.
“Bad dream?” His voice sounds tired, almost angry.
“Oh my God, I had the creepiest nightmare.” He turns his profile to me. A tremor, almost a slither of unease makes my body shake.
“What’s wrong? Has something happened?”
This time he turns and I see it—all that we’ve been sharing, exploring is not in his eyes today.
They’re clear. He’s sober, clean and cold.
He pulls out one of my chairs. It’s usually piled with clean clothes, which I never seem to have time to put away. But the clothes are gone and he sits.
“What?” I almost scream and yet it comes out not more than a whisper.
He leans forward resting both elbows on his knees, so beautiful, so goddamn perfect, and yet I think what he’s about to tell me might make him a monster.
“I need a cigarette,” he announces.
“Smoke in here. I don’t care. What’s wrong?” As I scramble back, the cool metal of my antique iron rod bed sends a shudder through me.
Pulling the sheet to cover me, I briefly notice it’s stupid—he has been inside every part of me, but for some reason, I pull it up anyway.
He takes a cigarette, and all I can do is watch, almost as if he’s some sort of magician. He places it in his mouth, his abs ripple, and in one flick he lights it.