Beautiful Burn(12)

My heart sank at the simple question, a reminder of what an impossibility loving her was. “You should leave before we do something we may regret.” I prayed she wouldn't ask for more, my weak restraint to press her lips to mine again was dwindling with every word she spoke.

“I’m only worried about the things I’ll regret not doing,” she replied, the look in her eyes saying even more than her words had.

I pressed my lips together firmly, shifted in the sand, and looked up to the moon in some silent prayer for ungodly amounts of strength. “Go, Auburn,” I murmured without looking back at her. My fists tightened in the smooth granules as I heard her stand and gather her things.

“Don’t forget this.” I lifted the fading joint between my fingers.

“Keep it.” She dusted the sand off her jeans before she paused. “Thanks for the inspiration, Mr. West.” She breezed past me, one thigh brushing my shoulder. I wasn't sure if I'd really caught the sweet scent of her humid skin lingering on the night air or if my greedy mind had imagined it, but I sucked it through my nostrils hungrily, the scent of her shooting like a rocket straight to my dick.

I drew in a ragged breath before pulling the joint back to life and taking another hit.

Sweet Auburn Lawrence was going to unravel me.





four


Later the following week, I stepped out of the corner pharmacy downtown to find a familiar face leaning against my Blazer. “Hey.” I grimaced, as I slipped my sunglasses on.

“Why aren't you at work?” Mel nailed me with accusatory eyes. I'd hoped she wouldn’t make a scene.

“I don't have class on Fridays.” I fished for the keys in my pocket, already exasperated with her inquisition.

“I thought you were teaching Monday through Friday?” Her eyes scanned my casually-dressed frame as if looking for a clue.

“I had an appointment. Look, Mel. I don't have to answer to you anymore.”

“Is there something going on?” Her eyes widened as she leaned closer. “Is there someone else?” Her voice had risen more octaves than I knew possible.

“I'm not doing this here.” I grit through my teeth and whipped my door open with more force than necessary.

“Oh my God. Don't think I haven't kept myself busy, Reed. In fact, I've got plans tonight.” She crossed her arms, the smug look on her face turning my stomach. I didn't care if she was telling the truth or not, all I wanted was to get home, and push Mel and all the constant noise from my head.

“You're a fucking asshole, Reed. I know you're hiding something.” She seethed as I slid behind the wheel. So this is what we'd become, throwing angry slurs and resentment.

“Think whatever you need to, Mel.” I slammed the door, ending our conversation. Her face twisted in rage as I started the truck up and pulled out of the parking spot. I watched her in the rearview mirror, angry and wanting a fight, as I drove away. I felt like I might be sick.

I arrived home five minutes later and plopped myself on the cheap couch I'd bought to furnish the small, one-bedroom apartment. Opening my email, I was thankful for the message I found waiting for me.

A few people are getting together tonight at the old train bridge if you want to come.

It'd been seven days since we'd gone to the lighthouse. She'd behaved herself in my class all week, taking notes and participating in discussions, and it had slowly killed me.

Before I could think twice I replied.

What kind of crowd we talking?

Her reply came less than a minute later.

Some young, some old, some middle-agers like yourself. ;) Can I just text you? This email thing feels so last century.

Text me? Not a chance. Mel and I still shared an account…the last thing I wanted was questions about incoming and outgoing texts from a strange number.

No. What time?

P.S. 28 is NOT middle-age.

My fingers shook when I hit send. I knew with every fiber of my being I shouldn’t have entertained the idea of meeting her. I tried not to think about Mel for the sake of my own sanity, but Auburn was in my thoughts constantly. I couldn't bring myself to respond with anything else.

Her reply chimed almost instantly.

Everyone's getting there just before dark, but I’ll be there sooner. I want to show you something. Please come.

And there she went, undoing me with innuendo. I knew I’d have to relieve some of the tension that had been building with every innocent brush of the shoulder and flirty comment if I were going to hold it together tonight.

My dick throbbed beneath the bed sheet and I palmed it to relieve a fraction of the ache. I growled and threw a pillow over my head before slipping my hand beneath the cotton and pulling my fist up my shaft. I repeated, down and then back up…sweet release -- sweet, aching, primal release was what my body craved.