The Best Chance (The Amherst Sinners Series Book 4) Page 3

  I was too comfortable to abandon all anxiety now, but I was happy to complain about it.

  Tucking one edge of the towel down against my hip, I watched Addi look for my phone so focused that she didn't notice me decorating the wall with a smirk directed at her.

  “Looking for this…?” I held up my phone, before tossing it on the bed, firmly in the middle of us both.

  She frantically shot up right when she heard the sound of my voice. I had scared her, and nothing made me laugh more than watching Addileigh become uncomfortable. It was hard to do without any sass or push back, making this victory as sweet as a get-out-of-jail-free pass.

  “No... I lost my lipstick.”

  I smugly walked over to her and my bag, unfazed, as I grabbed a pair of boxer briefs from inside the thick zipper. Addi was quick on her toes—not quick enough, though. She had a tell when she was lying: her hands. She'd make awkward movements and touch her lips, as if her fingertips could hold back confessions alone.

  Sleep wasn't coming easy these days. I was clocking maybe a few hours a night, if I was lucky. My demons had caught up to me, and the only way they knew to shake me was not letting me rest off the hard emotions.

  I planned on getting Addi her own room just to avoid someone being in the room with me. Now my options were sleep and hope I didn't wake up in a sweaty panic like I had been or not sleep at all and look like I was using the drugs I was supposed to be selling.

  “I didn't order yet. I didn't know what you'd want.”

  Well, at least she had finally shifted gears from throwing her pussy at me. I fell onto the bed, hoping the pillows would turn hard and knock me out when my head collided with one. Wishful thinking.

  “I don't want anything.”

  Her head snapped back my direction so quickly that I had to hide my concern under a stern attitude. She was looking at me the same way I did when I tried to be her crutch through the Mister drama.

  “What do you mean? You didn't eat. What's going on with you?”

  I could read between her looks and annoyed words. She wanted to ask me if Layla was the reason I was off, but she didn't want to ask outright, in fear the answer would be yes.

  “Nothing… damn, Addi. Not everything is a problem. I'm fucking tired.”

  We both knew what we weren't saying, and by not saying it, we were protecting each other…for now, while we could.

  I woke up, choking on the air I needed. My demons didn't care. They laughed, watching death get close enough to scare me shitless but not do any harm.

  Growing a fucking conscience enough to let anything haunt me wasn't in my DNA. Changes like this only happened from loving… and losing.

  I automatically swung my legs over the bed and leaned over, pressing my elbows into my knees to steady my breathing. No matter how many times this had happened, none of it felt comfortable, and I wasn't getting used to it.

  It always happened the same way: Layla standing in front of me, but unable to hear or see me. I was invisible to her, and that hit too close to reality. She never saw me, not like how I saw her. Her vision, her heart, her words… every ounce of care was reserved for someone else, long before he waltzed into her life.

  Adjusting my tangled necklaces that hung down to my chest, I noticed the sweat coating my body, like I had run a few miles. That was new.

  I was hoping Addi wouldn't wake up. I peered over my shoulder at her sleeping body, wrapped in silk pajamas and wearing an eye mask, preventing her from witnessing this.

  Nothing about her was average, not even how she slept.

  When my breath finally normalized, I got up and headed towards the bathroom to analyze how shitty my outside probably matched my growing conscience inside. The abrasive lights made my eyes buckle and close, and I fumbled for any kind of dimmer switch. Just like my feelings: on a low.

  I looked like death. My blonde hair was curling, like I just got out of the water and let the sun bake my curls into position. My eyes were still squinting and had dark bags under them. My skin was a paler version of its norm. Easily now, pushing through the surface was my soul—that goddamn thing I buried so deep that I thought I'd only see it again when I died.

  Giving up on my reflection, I walked back to bed, but not before seeing my name in Addi’s cursive on an In-N-Out bag I hadn’t noticed before: Hunter, eat some damn food.

  That's what I loved about her: cursive on the outside, but fucking bold and underlined inside.

  The next morning, nothing but dread poured over me, seeping into every crack and battling my better mood than last night. Addi was sitting with her mirror placed on the desk putting on her makeup, while the sun danced over the bronzed glow of her skin and red silk pajamas she still had on.

  She pointed to a garment bag wordlessly, as she smoothed the lipstick over her lips expertly.

  “What's this? Already went shopping? It's 10 a.m., Addi.”

  She rolled her eyes, getting up and unzipping it for me. “A suit. Today seems important, and you should look the part.”

  “Look what part is that exactly?” My voice was already soaked with sarcasm and annoyance already. There was no “drug dealer” aesthetic or wardrobe. This wasn't some endearing quality anymore. I was on the edge of 30 and still holding down a job that a sixteen year old would have, just to make a little extra cash.

  “Successful.”

  I unzipped the garment bag, carefully making sure I didn't damage whatever was inside. The dark blue suit was matte and simple—how I liked things to be. I couldn't picture myself in it, but she was right. I couldn't show up to the boss’s house in ripped jeans and my bomber jacket.

  My fingers felt up the material, thankful but silent, when Addi changed the topic completely. “You talked in your sleep again.”

  Again? When was the first time?

  I specifically didn't allow sleepovers, for any reason. After Layla got engaged to Oliver, I knew trying was over for me, and not even a week later, she was haunting my sleep.

  “Saying what?”

  I sat down on the bed, trying to care as much as she wanted. All my attention was on this meeting later. I watched her stand up and strut over to her luggage, avoiding eye contact.

  “You said, ‘Princess…’ I can only assume that's Layla, because I'm no princess. I'm a madwoman. I mean, seriously… look who I keep as company.”

  “Don't talk about her,” I snapped more than I intended to. Everything about me became stiff, except the one part of me I would have been okay with. She was bringing up Layla when she knew she was just as off limits as her married boyfriend.

  As she sat on her knees in front of her exploded suitcase, I tried to iron my eyebrows out by avoiding eye contact too.

  “Maybe we should, Hunter. She chose Ollie. When are you getting over that?”

  My stomach turned to knots, ones made of cast iron, and the weight of them were pushing organs out of the way, suffocating me by making room for the truth—truth I was avoiding. As I stood up abruptly, filled to the brim with anger and now knots multiplying in my stomach, I felt every desire to push her away. That's what I did to everyone: pushed until they were so far out of sight that I couldn't possibly feel guilty about it.

  “Do you need me to be over it, Addi? She—” I cut myself off, stumbling when it came to even saying her name.

  “Wow... You can't even say her name? Is that how far gone you are?” Her features all spelled mischief, twinkled with a premature win.

  “How is fucking someone else's husband? Do you ever taste his wife, while you’re going down on him?”

  I watched the premature win fade right into an anger, without the flushing of her bronzed skin. That was under the layers of fake, under her surface, where no one could see.

  I thought she was going to explode, erupt like her suitcase had, or at least hit me for testing the boundaries, but she remained still, quiet even. We both maintained the distance between us with only the unmade bed and my suit between us. It felt like we were t
otal strangers, and making any strides to bridge this gap was far too dangerous.

  Her voice was almost a whisper: “Yah… sometimes. At least I can admit it.”

  She wanted me to admit I wasn't over Layla, more than losing sleep and fleeing Boston did for me.

  “Layla.” My voice even sounded gutted when it came to those syllables. “Happy?”

  She took a step forward and drug out the last couple before she was right in front of me. “No… I want you to fuck me, until you forget she ever existed.”

  I watched her long fingers with fake red nails at the end that matched her lipstick yank off her silk dress she wore to bed. Addi just looked expensive, even standing naked in front of me. I wondered if I could afford her.

  “What if I can't forget her?”

  Addi was standing in front of me, naked, completely hairless, and groomed to a goddamn T, and I was still wondering if I'd ever forget Layla. She caused more scar tissue than a juvenile detention center or my parents putting me in the middle of their messy divorce.

  “I'm gonna try to not take that personally with me standing here naked.”

  “I'm not comparing… relax.”

  She stepped even closer, close enough to feel the pinch of her hard nipples against my bare chest. She was brewing a storm inside of me—a heat wave, mixing with the existing knots. Her fingernails raked down my chest, leaving thin red lines in their wake. We maintained eye contact and silence perfectly. Her gray eyes were light, almost transparent, even though I couldn't tell what she wanted. I was sure mine were as dark as a stormy sky, conflicted and turned on by her. My gaze dropped lower, making sure my eyes didn’t deceive me.

  We had sex before, it wasn’t like this was something new between us. She’d throw out remarks only an ice queen could, and I would strike back, until our lips crashed together. We were explosive, probably toxic by any normal standards, but Addi did things to my dick no one else did.

  I watched her sink to her knees in front of me, while my fingers pushed through her hair. Her sly smile outshined her other features easily, when she tugged my boxers down, and I instinctively pushed my hips forward, even though she didn't need help.

  With my shoulder blades pressed firmly into the wall, my fingers pushed her head into my crotch, hoping her lips were lined up already.

  “Not so fast big guy. I told you I didn't want to hear you say another girl's name...” she trailed off, probably distracted by how much my dick grew in her hand. She planned on getting revenge, even after poking me with not being able to choke out her name. If that wasn't Addi, then I didn't know her at all.

  “Put your mouth around me.”

  Her hand pushed up my length between us, and I felt my stomach tighten with how good it felt, like when you hold your breath, hoping you can savor the feeling.

  Her grip tightened and pushed up my length again, while maintaining eye contact, making my body anxious to feel more. I needed her in a way that wasn't torture or the push and pull we played. I needed more in this moment, and her smirk expanding told me she knew that.

  “What do you need?” I watched her red lips move, letting the words glide out, seducing me wildly.

  My gaze dropped lower, making sure my eyes hadn't deceived me.

  “You... to stop playing around.”

  “Tired of our games already?”

  In one quick motion, I pulled her up and changed our positions so that her naked body was against the wall instead. She was pushing me to the edge of reason and control. Her arms rested on my shoulders lazily, before I forced them against the wall and pinned them there with my hand. My now pulsing and twitching cock was pushed firmly into her leg.

  Pushing my face close to hers, I barked out my words, not bothering to smooth the hard edges. “Games? No. Teasing? Yes. What, your married boyfriend doesn't want you to play with others now?”

  Her eyebrows collapsed in the center of her face, just hearing me refer to him. We both had soft spots with names, feelings, and people unwilling to take a chance on us.

  “He doesn't control me,” she pressed her hips further into my cock, hoping for relief, but still restrained by my hands.

  Her response told me, yes, he knew about me and the sex we'd been having in very public places—restaurants, movies, bathrooms, my car… everywhere but a traditional bed. Now I was forced to love her against a wall or cross a boundary we didn't intentionally set.

  I don't know why we hadn't had sex in a bed. I guess that made it seem too real. This was a friendship between two villains with a dash of benefits.

  “Doesn't he? He beckons you, and you run.” As my words slipped out, my length pushed inside her with an extra thrust. She was tight and didn't grant access easily. With one hand pinning her hands and my other hand pinning her leg to my hip, I watched her sink into me with her mouth open.

  “And I begged you to let me come with you.”

  She begged me to come to LA because of her dream, not me. I was justifying answers while being inside this girl the same way I fucked Layla for the hope she'd stop fighting me, not to get off.

  I let go of her hands to use both of mine, pulling her ass into my crotch with every push and feeling every inch of my length coated with how wet she was.

  Every muscle strained and my body glistened from the fast pace I was keeping. My jagged breath wanted more of her—a kind of more than her legs wrapped around me wasn’t doing justice. With my hands on her ass, I walked backwards, until I felt the bed against my calves, and I dropped down to a sitting position.

  “Hunter…” Her voice was slick with desperation.

  “Addileigh,” I retorted, like I always did, while she adjusted herself on top of me. With her legs pressed against the outside of my thighs, she lowered herself down on me, taking more of the length she couldn't against the wall.

  With the help of my hands on her ass, she picked up the pace of her rolling hips. The knots in my stomach no longer felt dangerous, but a satisfaction I was chasing with Addi. I kept holding my breath, trying to live in those moments and swallowing my grunts, when she rolled away from my length, just to sink back down.

  I pulled her against me, until her body was pressed against my chest, flush against me. My mouth found the crook of her neck to cover up most of the sounds I couldn’t hold back anymore. My lips rubbed against her skin with every movement, and I felt myself get even harder while she rode me.

  I was shamefully close.

  I paused, forcing the orgasm further away from washing over me in a thick downpour. Reaching for the side table, I scooped up my lighter and the half smoked joint left from last night, before I had fallen asleep. Pushing it between my lips, Addi reached up with my lighter, helping me out, while I shifted onto my elbow.

  She wanted me to share. I was prepared to share my pot, but really, she wanted more. I could see that through her transparent eyes now.

  I got comfortable between her legs, while my grip around myself lined up my tip with her slick entrance. Still inhaling around my joint, I didn't start moving until I needed to exhale. Finally back into a rhythm, I felt the relief creep up my spine, building a bonfire in the pit of my stomach.

  Addi was moaning in a way that shook her whole body under me, like she was deprived and more needy than I had ever seen her. “Hunter… please.”

  I picked up the pace when she stole the joint from my lips, slamming myself between her legs now tangled with mine. I was sure I was hurting her; my thickness and length weren’t meant for aggression, unless the girl wanted to feel it the next day.

  “Hunter… stop holding back…” Her voice was hollow and shoved between moans. She was asking for more, when I was giving her everything, including the joint I was sucking on.

  I let myself fall down to my forearms on either side of her body, trying to get a closer look at what I was missing, while my hips kept pushing against hers. Finally, I whispered, “What do you want, Addi?”

  “You, Hunter. I want you.”

 
; Something inside me broke, and it wasn't just the control to not come too soon.

  How did I miss this? When did she decide to want me? Was I competing with her married suitor?

  “Addi…” was all I knew how to say in that moment. Everything changed with one request to not hold back. Addileigh had stopped lusting for her married man, and somehow I was the object of her desires now. She wanted me, even though she knew Layla was still haunting my heart. She wanted even the ugly, undesirable parts of me that Layla didn't.

  She loved me without me knowing. Unrequited.

  With her arms around my neck, pulling me deeper into her, she did something we never did often: she kissed me. Her tongue immediately shut up all the thoughts pushed between me and coming. Opening my mouth wider, I felt the warmth of her tongue urge my thrusts to slow down. I couldn't hold out much longer with her wetness wrapped around more than one part of me.

  With one slow thrust and my hip stopping against hers, I whispered against her lips I had to pull myself from, “I’m gonna come, baby.”

  I felt every part of her squeeze my length, and the release made my vocal chords shake, as I sunk into her, feeling every brick in the wall we had built being demolished.

  I didn't roll off of Addi like I normally did. Instead, I pushed the now even smaller joint to my lips and sucked in the filling effect, trapping her under me, with me still inside her. I stayed silent, in case I was taking everything she said wrong. Staring down at her, I hoped she'd say something.

  “That was amazing!. Oh, my god! Let's do it again…”

  “You hit me with some news halfway through. Wanna explain?”

  She snatched the almost killed joint, avoiding answering longer. “You were holding back with me.”

  “Babe, I don't think I was holding back when I came inside you, no rubber.”

  Her palm slapped against my shoulder. “That's not what I mean, and you know it.”

  “You don't know what you're asking for. Trust me.”