Forever Dark(20)

I look at the clock just to make sure. I never want this to end.

It’s 3:49 AM.

We have time.

I throw my head back and close my eyes letting him take me. His hands stay on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh with each thrust. No words are said after that. We’ve gone to that place where our problems don’t exist. A place that we’ve created and we are the only visitors.

His left hand moves to my neck when he lifts up, watching me, his thumb on one side, his fingers on the other with just the slightest pressure on just the right artery. It was enough that I feel the blood flow leave, but not enough that I can’t breathe. He’s rough. He’s always rough and that’s where the arrogance comes from. He knows what I like and he doesn’t give a shit.

There’s no rules to this. We take what we take and we give it just as hard.

My nails dig into the flesh, each pass leaves a raised red mark. This is me begging him to fuck me harder, give me everything he has to give.

He knows.

He provides.

With a grunt, his hips drive into me unrelenting and his right hand pushes my head into the pillow a little harder.

Gasping at the sensation, Cash moves both hands and then curls them over the tops of my shoulders, the leverage he needs. Still on my back, with my feet flat against the mattress, I push up and arch into him, working together.

With a frustrated gasp, Cash moves his hands to my ass forcing me into his movements. “Jesus… I fucking needed you so bad,” he cries into my hair, pushing it to the side, his hands tangling in it.

Me too.

Me.

Too.

I exhale noisily, moaning into his ear. That provokes him and he groans again, and then finds my mouth.

Maybe it’s his lips.

Maybe it’s the passion.

Maybe it’s just… him.

We come together, panting and cursing. His entire body tenses as the warmth crashes over us.

“Holy shit,” he says scrubbing his palms over his eyes when he pulls away. “That was hot.”

I smile, not sure what else to say as he pushes away from me completely and sits up on the edge of my bed discarding the condom in the trash under my desk. He looks over at me. He smiles, just barely, and then wards it off but I caught it.

He smiled at me.

My heart pounds as he stands pulling his jeans on.

As I watch him leave, walking without a thought, he keeps his head down.

I know I can’t keep holding him back. I’m forever dark. He’s my light. People like Macy are light. They don’t need all this darkness surrounding them and making them feel like they’re not good enough.

They are good enough.

Deep down I know we’ve all done horrible things. We’ve all fucked up in our lives. It’s just a matter of how bad, and how you right the wrong, when ready.

Unfortunately I was nowhere near ready.





September 25, 2013



I toss and turn at night. Every night. Nothing helps. All I see is my phone staring back at me.

Don’t look.

I look at the clock beside my bed instead.

12:16 AM.

I turn over toward the wall and stare at the blue paint that’s chipped from where I threw my phone at it the other night trying not to call.

I look at the clock again watching the hours count down.

1:29 AM.

I need my sleep. I do. So why can’t I get any?

Madison.

2:18 AM.

She’s destroying me.

Rolling on my back, I throw my arm over my face. When that doesn’t work, I roll on my stomach and squeeze my eyes shut until they burn.

Maybe if I squeeze them hard enough I won’t see images of her or look at my phone.

Doesn’t work.

My hands slide up the bed and under my pillow wrapping around my head.

Maybe if I suffocate myself I won’t call either?

There’s an idea.

I don’t.

I look at the fucking clock instead peeking on eye open.

3:04 AM.

I hate this. I fucking hate that she dictates my life like this without even words.

Ten minutes later I pick my phone up and text her. Another ten and I’m in her bed.

When I leave some forty-five minutes later, she’s sleeping on the bed. I pause at the door because I love seeing her like this. Rarely do I ever see Madison sleeping. I’ve seen her stoned, crying, in love, shaking with need, overcome with lust but rarely as vulnerable as she is when her guard’s down and she’s sleeping.

She’s absolutely beautiful like that.

It’s hard to leave her when I see her eyes closed and flushed cheeks pressed into the pillow supporting her head.

I have to though.

Getting up at five AM for most is too early. For me, my day starts with that three AM text. From there I go to the gym with the rest of my team. Most days I’m running on very little sleep but that’s nothing new.

I’m a disaster in more ways than I can say.