Read Recovered Page 18


  “Fuck me.” I didn’t want to deal with Wilson, and I wanted to deal with the fallout of whatever he was planning on doing with that information even less. This was exactly why I didn’t want to go back to Loveless.

  She pulled her head back and lifted her lips in a wobbly grin. “Okay, but I don’t think that will solve the problem.”

  Her sassy response startled a laugh out of me, and I couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on her trembling lips. “No, it won’t, but it’s a surefire way to make me forget about the problem for a little bit. Let’s get the groceries home and distract each other for as long as it takes to help me forget.”

  She blew out a breath and let me take her hand. “We can’t avoid dealing with all the hard things forever.”

  She was right, we couldn’t. But we couldn’t fix them either, so we might as well focus on the hard thing that was currently between us. That one we could definitely deal with, and the solution was a no-brainer.

  Affton

  I LET OUT a yelp of fright and curled into Cable’s side. I’d spent most of the movie with my face buried in his shoulder, peeking through my fingers when I thought it was safe. I never really got the appeal of horror movies, way too much blood and guts for my taste, but I understood why he enjoyed them. I could feel his heart racing, and every once in awhile, he jumped just as high as I did. For a boy who spent so much time trying to chase down a real emotion, fear was as good as anything else that might come along. He got jacked up on the thrill of being scared because that was a normal reaction he didn’t have to search for.

  I heard him chuckle from above my head and his hand slid comfortingly up and down my arm as I burrowed deeper into him. “I told you we could watch something else.”

  I shook my head in the negative and opened my fingers wide enough to look at the massive screen just in time to see another amorous teen lose her life. If you were a pretty girl, you didn’t last long in these movies. If you were a pretty girl who got down and dirty with one of the boys, you died even sooner. It didn’t seem fair that as soon as the characters figured out the joys of sex, they took a machete to the neck.

  “You sat through the entire Fast and the Furious franchise for me; I’ll make it through this Friday the 13th binge.” He insisted Jason was the coolest of all the horror movie killers. With his herky-jerky movements and the hockey mask, I was having a hard time figuring out how he chased all those teenagers through the woods without falling on his face. He didn’t appear to get more coordinated or graceful as the movies progressed.

  Cable’s hand curled around the side of my neck underneath my hair and held me to his chest. I felt the brush of his lips against the top of my head and heard him laugh lightly. He was doing more of that lately . . . laughing. He’d started to take his sessions with Doc Howard more seriously. The two of them had even started spending the morning on the water together once a week. He talked to Miglena about his sisters. She was hesitant and unsure. She loved Cable as if he was her own, obviously, but she still had a complicated relationship with his father, and because she was an extraordinary woman, she worried about what meeting them would do to his mother. She didn’t want to lose her job or put her girls in an awkward, possibly emotionally stressful situation. She told him she would think about introducing him to them, but she wasn’t ready to pull the trigger just yet. He still hadn’t talked to his mother, and her calls were coming more rapidly than before. He was making progress in the present, but the past and the future remained a convoluted mess.

  My dad called and asked if he could come down and visit me. He sounded lonely and a little lost. It broke my heart to tell him no, but he still had no idea what I was really doing in Port Aransas, or that his job hinged on my success. Cable overheard the conversation, and when I told him I was going to have to go back to Loveless to see my dad and pack up my stuff before I left for California, he got quiet. Not a normal kind of quiet, but the kind that let me know he was gone. He slipped somewhere inside of his head far, far away where I couldn’t reach him, and he stayed there for two days. I couldn’t touch him, not physically or emotionally. He shut down, and he shut me out. It hurt. It hurt even worse when I realized what was going to happen when I actually left. If the idea of me going had that strong of an effect on him, actually leaving would cut him off from me completely. There would be no long distance love. No effort to make things work through the space that separated us.

  It killed, but I had no choice other than to let death take me. I couldn’t walk away from him, even if it would be better for both of us in the long run. I waited him out, and when he found his way back to me, I was there. We spent the next few days being lazy, reconnecting (having copious amounts of sex all over the house), and enjoying each other’s company while we still could. Which led to the movie marathon that had been taking place all day. I told him I would commit to watching all the Jason movies if he would watch the Fast and the Furious movies first. I didn’t tell him that he kind of reminded me of a much younger Paul Walker, and that’s why the franchise was one of my favorites. He was a good sport about it until Tokyo Drift. That was almost a deal breaker. He powered through only because I put my hands in his pants and distracted him with a hand job that left us both messy in the best way. I was about to tell him it was his turn to distract me when my attention was caught by the twisting, intricate ink that was spread all over his shoulder. We were naked together on a very regular basis, but I was usually distracted by the other parts of him to pay attention to his ink. Up close, the lines were mesmerizing.

  I touched a fingertip to the black ink and traced it where it wrapped around his bicep. “Did you have these when we were in school together or did you get them after?” After would mean he let someone drill into his skin while he was in jail. The idea made me shiver uncomfortably. We always used protection, but there was a time or two when we got carried away, and protection came as an afterthought. I wanted to keep the way he made me feel inside forever, but anything that he could pick up from a dirty needle, not so much.

  He chuckled and gave me a squeeze. “Most of them I got before I got locked up. Went to a guy in Austin. He drew up some stuff that was okay. I took the drawings and made them better. He was impressed.” He held the hand that wasn’t holding me out and wiggled his fingers so that the spider web on the back of his hand moved and the black widow danced. “I did get this in the pen. There was this kid who got locked up a few months before my release who was a tattoo artist on the outside. His older brother was in a gang, and his shop got caught up in some nasty business because of those connections. The brother’s gang had a whole crew on the inside that offered him protection and set him up with everything he would need to do ink while he was locked up. We shared a cell for a few months, shared some stories, so he hooked me up.”

  I cringed, and he must’ve seen where my mind was at because he dropped another kiss on the top of my head and told me softly, “I’m clean, Reed. Haven’t been with anyone but you since I got out, and I got tested before I went into the sober living house. I would never put you at risk.”

  I traced the top of his shoulder. “So, you drew this?”

  His chin lowered and touched the crown of my head. I was cuddling now instead of cowering. “I did. Figured if it was going to be on my body forever, I might as well be responsible for it.”

  I leaned back so I could look up at him. He took advantage of my new pose and dropped a kiss on my lips. I immediately ran my tongue over the moisture left behind, tasting him and savoring that smoky, sunshine flavor that was his and his alone. “You’re an amazing artist, Cable. Maybe you need to look at doing something with that for your future.”

  He blinked at me a few times and then cocked his head to the side. “Do you really believe I’m an artist?”

  I brushed the end of my nose along the edge of his scruffy jaw and made my way up to his ear. Once I was there, I gently sank my teeth into the lobe and whispered. “Yes, you are. I told you I peeked at your sketchb
ook. You’re ridiculously talented, and your tattoos are beautiful. I’m not surprised you designed them.”

  I skimmed my hand over his bare chest, pausing to rub lazy circles over the flat of his nipple with my thumb. I heard him suck in a breath and the hand that was still holding the back of my head slid in a smooth line all the way down my spine so that it was resting on my backside. All I had on was one of his t-shirts and a pair of boy-short panties that did little to keep him out as his hand went in search of warm skin.

  “No one’s ever really called me anything before.”

  I moved, so I kissed the side of his neck and nibbled along his collarbone. My fingers took a detour to those carved abs of his, tracking the defined lines between them and tickling the tensed muscle under the taut skin. “What do you mean?”

  He grunted and shifted his weight as his cock started to stiffen and lengthen against the thin fabric of the long basketball shorts he was lounging around in. There was no missing that monster, but I had no desire to run and hide from this one.

  “I was never a good student. I was never a good son. I’ve never been a boyfriend or even a friend to anyone. I’ve never had to work hard or be dedicated to anything. I’m not nice. I’m not successful or driven. The only thing I’ve ever been is an addict. I’ve been called that and now a felon and an ex-con. But never anything good or worthwhile. That’s the first thing anyone’s ever called me that doesn’t make me cringe. That’s something I wouldn’t mind being.”

  He pulled in a sharp breath when I dipped a finger into the indentation of his belly button, and raked my nails through the thatch of golden hair that narrowed down to his obvious hardness. I let my lips follow the path my fingers had forged, slicking my tongue over his nipple and grinning when the motions made him growl.

  I pushed my hand past the elastic at the top of his shorts and sighed when I encountered steel wrapped in velvet. I loved that he was so hard and so soft at the same time. I loved that his erection kicked in response to my touch and that he was already damp at the tip. I rolled my thumb across the silky head, spreading wetness and making his body clench as I went. I shifted my weight so that I was sprawled on my stomach, head above his lap, his cock throbbing and full in front of my face.

  I rubbed my cheek against his lower stomach and sighed. The hot air from my breath made his thighs clench and his hand returned to the back of my head as the other smoothed over my ass, his fingers dipping into places and touching spots I hadn’t been brave enough to let him explore before now.

  “You don’t have to try to be an artist, Cable, you just are. You’re talented, and you’re a whole lot of other things, as well.” I swiped the flat of my tongue over his slick head and wrapped my hand around the rigid shaft. He grunted, and his hips lifted involuntarily, pushing his wide tip past my parted lips.

  I sucked him in obediently, swirling my tongue around his width and twisting my hand around his base after sliding it up and down the part of him I couldn’t take in. He groaned, hand fisting in my hair as he guided my bobbing motion up and down. I loved the way he felt in my mouth. I got off on having control of his big body. I was intrigued by the way his fingers felt as they tickled and tripped between the globes of my ass. It made me twitch and moan against the firm flesh I was licking and sucking for all I was worth.

  I knew he enjoyed it when I traced the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock. He liked it even more when I pressed my tongue against the sensitive spot right below the tip. I flicked my tongue over that tender skin and sucked as more liquid beaded up at his slit. He growled my name and pulled the handful of hair he was clutching. I was good at this because he taught me exactly what to do. Luckily for both of us, I didn’t have too much of a gag reflex, and I actually got off on getting him off. I didn’t mind going down on him, which was good considering how much time he spent with his face buried between my legs. Turnabout was fair play.

  I gasped and jerked on him, my hand tightening and stilling as I felt the press of his fingers against that secret, sensitive place no one had ever touched before. At first, his touch was light, testing, and teasing. When I lowered my head another inch or so, until his tip was touching the back of my throat and making my eyes water, I felt him press in. I thought my body was going to levitate off the leather recliners. I was practically vibrating, caught between curiosity and terror. He always made me act out of control and pushed me to feel and experience things I never felt before. That unexpected finger pulled out and pushed back in, which had me dragging my teeth across his shaft in surprise.

  He hissed in reaction and tugged on my hair. “Get up on your knees, Reed. Give me the hand that isn’t working my dick.”

  It took a minute to move. When I lifted into that touch on my backside, he sank deeper and made me shudder. I didn’t know if I was into it yet, but I was sure I didn’t hate it. He stopped his persistent prodding when I lifted. I swallowed hard on the erection that was stretching my jaw as wide as it would go and put my shaking hand in his. He immediately dragged it between my legs and put my fingers between my dripping wet folds. He pressed my fingers to my swollen, aching center and told me, “Don’t stop touching yourself until I tell you to, Reed.”

  He held onto my wrist as I started slow, steady circles and continued to suck him down as far as I could take him. I had to concentrate because I wasn’t getting enough air. I tingled because all my nerve endings were alive and dancing with one another. It was a lot to take in, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it.

  Once I had a rhythm down and was moaning and grinding against my own fingers, Cable’s talented touch was back at that place that had always been forbidden. He caressed the curve of my ass, rubbed his hand over each side, and then I felt that foreign pressure and his finger pressing in once again.

  I was sure the top of my head was going to come off. Pleasure slithered through every muscle, passion pooled heavy in all my limbs. There wasn’t a place I didn’t feel. There wasn’t a single part of my body that didn’t feel owned by him. I didn’t need to be in control because he was. He played me like I was an expensive instrument and my responses were music to his ears. I squeezed his cock and swallowed around the tip. He swore, and his hips lifted off the leather.

  I was so wet that I could feel it covering my fingers and dripping down my legs. He must have felt it, too, because he stopped playing and really started working me over the same way I was working him. Pleasure tripped up my spine, and my thighs started shaking. My body fluttered, and my heart raced. I could barely keep moving as sensation overwhelmed me, but luckily, his body couldn’t take it anymore either and spilled across my tongue as I collapsed in a heap across his lap.

  I wiped my mouth on the material of his shorts where they were bunched up across his thighs and sighed in boneless satisfaction. His hand went from pulling my hair to stroking it softly, and his fingers went from fucking my ass to drawing random circles on the rounded skin.

  I blew out a breath and told him quietly, “You are more than an artist, Cable. You are a good friend; at least, you can be, and you have been to me. You’re a recovering addict, which means you are trying and making an effort. You are a survivor. That crash could have killed you. Losing someone you cared about so horribly could have been the end of you. Going to prison for a crime you weren’t responsible for,” I curled my hand around his knee. “That could have broken you, but you came out mostly whole.” I rolled over on my back so I could look up at him and grinned because he was obviously taking in everything I said. “You’re also dynamite in bed . . . and on the water. You’re a lot of things, Cable, and always have been.”

  He traced the bridge of my nose and the line of my cheeks. His voice was low and serious when he told me, “You’re a lot of things, too, Reed, and I’m pretty fond of all of them.”

  That was good to know because I was fond of all the things he was, too . . . even the bad things. The only difference was that I would still love all those things when I was halfway across
the country and he . . . well, who knew how long he would remember all the things he liked about me once I was gone.

  I was pretty sure I knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t remember we were something worth fighting for.

  Cable

  “WHAT ARE YOU going to do when summer is over? Are you going to stay here or go back to Loveless?” Affton was leaning against the railing of the deck looking out over the water as the sun went down. The sea breeze was blowing her pale hair around her face and across her eyes. She had on another one of those dresses that made me think dirty thoughts and her feet were bare. Innocence and temptation all wrapped in the perfect package. I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted a hit or a bump.

  I had my feet propped up on the railing next to her, and my sketchpad open on my lap. I told her I was drawing the sunset, but somewhere along the way she’d worked her way into the picture and I’d spent the last thirty minutes trying to make sure I got her freckles just right and the curve of her jaw perfect. I was drawing her because it was the only way I would remember her when we went our separate ways.

  She’d been trying to hedge her way around what was next for me, and for us, over the last few days. I didn’t want to think about it, so I didn’t, but it seemed like Affton had finally reached her limit of tolerance for my evasion.

  “If you decide to come back to Loveless, I’ll be there for a little while. I should pack up the things from home I’m taking with me to Berkeley, and I want to spend some time with my dad.” I’d noticed she’d been dodging his calls the same way I was dodging my mom’s. When I’d asked about it, she shrugged and told me she wasn’t sure what to tell him and that she hated lying to him. I wanted to feel guilty about it, but I didn’t. It meant I got her all to myself. She was still talking about me going back to Loveless, and I had to force myself to concentrate on what she was saying. “If you’re in town, we can hang out before I leave for school.” She caught her flying hair in her fingers and turned her head to look at me. I took a deep drag from my smoke and shaded in the hollow at her throat. She wanted it when I kissed her there. She wanted it when I kissed her anywhere and everywhere. For someone who was so controlled and collected in most things, she was surprisingly open-minded and adventurous when it came to anything carnal. For a girl with boundaries a mile high and a heart encased in steel, she was wide open to any and all possibilities when she was naked and turned on. “I would like that, in case you were wondering. I want to see you before I go. I want to spend as much time with you as I can, Cable.”