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Leaning forward, I hold her face in my hands. “This. Me. You. The way I’ve acted, it sucks. I suck. But that doesn’t mean I’ll always be this way or. . . .” I stumble over my words like a chump. “What I mean is. . . okay, look at it this way. You’re a judge and I’ve just performed. I’m scored on 0-100.”
“You get a zero,” she teases, giggling. “All across the board. Zero.” She even holds up her fingers to show me and her lips form an O. All that does is get me thinking about my cock in her mouth and how great that’d be.
“For fuck’s sake, I didn’t fuck it all up. I did some things right. And I just told you I love you. That’s gotta earn me somethin’.”
“Name one you did right before rehab.”
“The sex,” I point out confidently.
She blushes. “That’s debatable.”
I eye her. She caves.
“Okay. Fine. One point?”
I raise an eyebrow, smiling. “One?”
“Fuck. Maybe like fifty.”
“I’m not sure what’s hotter. The fact that you finally said fuck, or that you think that highly of the night.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
Now here’s the part where I turn into a typical guy. Not sure if I mentioned this or not, but I haven’t had sex since Amberly left that night. I think—I don’t know this for sure—I had sex with someone that night while high. But since then, no way.
My hand drifts to her thigh, under her dress. I grip her knee. “I bet I could score a hundred-cumulative score if given the chance.”
Do you see the flush of her cheeks? She wants me too. I convince her to get in the back seat of my truck with me because there’s simply not enough room in the front with the console in the way. I sit her between the seats with her ass on the console and unzip my pants.
I flip her dress up around her waist and remove her panties. No wasting time. She watches in what I can only assume is anticipation, her eyes hooded, her breathing heavy. Not a lot’s said between us. I think it’s been long enough words aren’t needed, and all I want is to be buried in her tight, wet pussy.
“What about dinner?” she asks, her voice shaking.
“Later. This first. I can’t wait any longer.” I spread her legs so her cunt is bared to me. “Fuck, you’re already so fucking wet,” I whisper.
She is, wetness that’s practically dripping from her pink pussy right in front of my face. Grabbing her ass cheeks, I lean forward so my breath hits her sensitive nerves.
“Did you miss me?” I ask, kissing the inside of her thigh. I can smell her, like soap and delicate female scent every man craves.
She squirms under my touch and nods.
Tracing my way from her clit to her cunt with my tongue, I savor the taste, knowing it’s never going to be enough. Flattening my tongue against her clit, my cock hardens, digging into the zipper of my jeans. “I’m never not thinking of you,” I tell her, repeating my words I said to her when I couldn’t admit I was in love with her.
She cries out against the console using the steering wheel and dashboard to support herself. My tongue dives into her pussy, relentless and focused on making her come.
“Come on my face,” I demand, eating her pussy like I’m dying for this. My balls draw up, my dick jolting when she moans, tossing her head back, my name falling from her parted lips.
Shamelessly, she grinds into my face, and I remove one hand from her ass and insert two fingers into her pussy. I breathe and taste her, and it’s all I’ll ever need.
She comes, her cry so beautiful, her smell, taste, the feeling of her pussy clenching around my fingers, it’s exactly what I’d been missing.
Unbuttoning my jeans, I lower them just enough to free my cock and get the condom on. I look at Amberly when I slide the condom on. She licks her cherry-red lips, bright green contrasting purple as if I’m somehow a predator for her. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen on someone so innocent and pure. She’s no longer pure. I’ve corrupted her.
I lean forward, kissing her. Hooking my hands around the backs of her knees, I lift her up and onto my lap.
Straddling me, she hesitates. Goddamn it. It takes everything in me not to force myself inside her. “Have you been with anyone else?” she asks, and I know I need to answer her truthfully.
I swallow, my nerves jumping. “I. . . don’t know. I think I was that night you left.” The words hang in the air between us. It’s her eyes that butcher me. I feel nothing when she’s away and everything when she looks at me like this.