us.
I swallowed hard and tried to think about anything other than her skin slick and wet, anything besides the visual of her delicate hands manipulating the clay before her with slow sensuous movements. It was useless. I saw her. And she saw me—for what I was or who I wanted to be or a combination of both, I didn’t know.
She worked silently over the clay, her movements fluid and strong and soft at the same time and all the blood rushed to my dick as a blast of want slammed through me. Charlie was more potent than any drink, any pill I could ever take. I wanted her more than the clink of ice in the glass and the crisp sound the bottle made when freshly cracked open. And she was the one person I shouldn’t want, not to mention I had no right to even think about being with anyone now. Not when I was still so raw, still so unsure of why I’d done the things I’d done.
“I said don’t think.” Her voice cut through my thoughts, and I shifted behind my machine despite knowing she had to have seen the raging hard on I sported. Fuck I might as well have been a teenager again. I set my hands to work on the clay, adjusting my grip and strength as it spun, going for water when I needed more movement.
I wondered what it would’ve been like if I’d met Charlie back then? Back before I’d dropped out. Before I’d been kicked out of the only home I’d ever known.
Blake’s brown eyes filled my mind, and I closed mine, keeping my hands on the clay. Shit, I wouldn’t ever take back meeting Blake…just perhaps, if we hadn’t started so young, fallen so hard so fast, maybe we wouldn’t have become toxic to each other. That’s what she’d called us… toxic …and I couldn’t fucking blame her. Not after waking up.
Fuck. We brought out the worst in each other by the end—only her at her worst was a thousand times better than me at mine. I sucked in a deep breath, mentally whispering for the millionth time, I’m sorry.
I let my mind wander then—eyes still closed as I pictured Charlie and how different things could’ve been if I’d been with her instead. She understood me so well because she had darkness in her soul, the same as me. She’d experienced worse and came out better for it on the other side. She gave me hope even when I knew I wasn’t allowed to have it. It hadn’t taken her years to peg me for who I was, only minutes. Her ability to cut right to the point and strip me of my defenses at the same time only made her more endearing to me, and for a moment, there in the art room of a fucking rehab clinic, I let myself pretend we had a future together.
Damn, I’d lose my guy card if Conner could hear my thoughts. It’s not that I didn’t think about what she would feel like underneath me because I’d given her silky skin quite a bit of thought. It’s just that every time my mind drifted that way, Blake’s cries would shut that shit down faster than a cold shower.
It haunted me, and I knew I deserved no less. If it was this bad for me, reliving the night every single time I laid down, and trying desperately to change the outcome, then I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was for her. I didn’t like to think about it because if I did, then I only realized I was probably still hurting her, after all this time, despite that being the last thing I wanted in the world.
“Oh, Justin.” Charlie’s voice drew my attention, and I peeled my eyelids back. They were wet, as were my cheeks.
What the fuck?
I jerked my hands off the sculpted clay, swiping at my face with my forearms. Charlie stood over me and clicked off my machine, crouching to my eye level.
“Where did you go?” She whispered.
I shook my head, choking on the words.
She sighed and nodded, cutting her eyes to my machine. “That’s incredible.”
I followed her gaze, scrunching my eyebrows together. The lump of gray clay had transformed into a tall, funnel-shaped piece with jagged edges.
Not bad for my first time.
“It
I swallowed hard and tried to think about anything other than her skin slick and wet, anything besides the visual of her delicate hands manipulating the clay before her with slow sensuous movements. It was useless. I saw her. And she saw me—for what I was or who I wanted to be or a combination of both, I didn’t know.
She worked silently over the clay, her movements fluid and strong and soft at the same time and all the blood rushed to my dick as a blast of want slammed through me. Charlie was more potent than any drink, any pill I could ever take. I wanted her more than the clink of ice in the glass and the crisp sound the bottle made when freshly cracked open. And she was the one person I shouldn’t want, not to mention I had no right to even think about being with anyone now. Not when I was still so raw, still so unsure of why I’d done the things I’d done.
“I said don’t think.” Her voice cut through my thoughts, and I shifted behind my machine despite knowing she had to have seen the raging hard on I sported. Fuck I might as well have been a teenager again. I set my hands to work on the clay, adjusting my grip and strength as it spun, going for water when I needed more movement.
I wondered what it would’ve been like if I’d met Charlie back then? Back before I’d dropped out. Before I’d been kicked out of the only home I’d ever known.
Blake’s brown eyes filled my mind, and I closed mine, keeping my hands on the clay. Shit, I wouldn’t ever take back meeting Blake…just perhaps, if we hadn’t started so young, fallen so hard so fast, maybe we wouldn’t have become toxic to each other. That’s what she’d called us… toxic …and I couldn’t fucking blame her. Not after waking up.
Fuck. We brought out the worst in each other by the end—only her at her worst was a thousand times better than me at mine. I sucked in a deep breath, mentally whispering for the millionth time, I’m sorry.
I let my mind wander then—eyes still closed as I pictured Charlie and how different things could’ve been if I’d been with her instead. She understood me so well because she had darkness in her soul, the same as me. She’d experienced worse and came out better for it on the other side. She gave me hope even when I knew I wasn’t allowed to have it. It hadn’t taken her years to peg me for who I was, only minutes. Her ability to cut right to the point and strip me of my defenses at the same time only made her more endearing to me, and for a moment, there in the art room of a fucking rehab clinic, I let myself pretend we had a future together.
Damn, I’d lose my guy card if Conner could hear my thoughts. It’s not that I didn’t think about what she would feel like underneath me because I’d given her silky skin quite a bit of thought. It’s just that every time my mind drifted that way, Blake’s cries would shut that shit down faster than a cold shower.
It haunted me, and I knew I deserved no less. If it was this bad for me, reliving the night every single time I laid down, and trying desperately to change the outcome, then I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was for her. I didn’t like to think about it because if I did, then I only realized I was probably still hurting her, after all this time, despite that being the last thing I wanted in the world.
“Oh, Justin.” Charlie’s voice drew my attention, and I peeled my eyelids back. They were wet, as were my cheeks.
What the fuck?
I jerked my hands off the sculpted clay, swiping at my face with my forearms. Charlie stood over me and clicked off my machine, crouching to my eye level.
“Where did you go?” She whispered.
I shook my head, choking on the words.
She sighed and nodded, cutting her eyes to my machine. “That’s incredible.”
I followed her gaze, scrunching my eyebrows together. The lump of gray clay had transformed into a tall, funnel-shaped piece with jagged edges.
Not bad for my first time.
“It
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