Chapter 31

Jack

I cover my face with my own fucking hands. I can’t bear to look her in the eyes. The last thing I want to see is the fucking change in her eyes from admiration to abhorrence. Who does?

Bad enough I just retold the whole sad fucking story. Worse, now it’s going to turn her against me.

My shoulders are heaving, and I let the tears flow.

Why should I give a fuck anymore? I’ve bared my fucking soul, and I’m going to pay the fucking price. Any second she’ll get up and walk out that door into that blizzard. Only this time, I won’t have the heart to stop her.

This time it’ll be for fucking good.

And of course I can’t fucking blame her. I mean, I’m a monster. Retelling my story has only made that tasty little fact hit home once more.

Dear god, what an awful fucking human being I am. I’m fucking responsible for the deaths of so many innocent fucking people.

Something light and soft touches my shoulder.

Instantly I’m transported to those days a long time ago, when I was a little boy. Mom would first touch me lightly on the shoulder when I’d come into the kitchen a sniffling mess because of a bruised elbow or a scraped knee.

She’d say something like “Let’s have a smile from my big, brave boy” before inspecting the injury and kissing it better.

What was most comforting about the experience was her scent. As she pressed me against her, I could detect hints of cinnamon, vanilla, lemon, and frangipani. Some kind of special perfume she used, frangipani.

I asked her what it was once and remembered the name so I could buy her a bottle when I was older.

The rest of the scents were from her work in the kitchen. She was a fucking expert cook. Not only did she make a mean pancake, she also baked the best fucking muffins.

Of course, the touch on the shoulder now will not be followed by a kiss. It will be followed by some half-hearted words of comfort on Avery’s part before she books it.

No doubt her manners don’t let her just walk out. I try to block out the pain in my heart.

If she took the fire poker out of the fireplace right now and stabbed me through the heart, it would be no less fucking painful.

“I’m soooooo sorry.” Her voice is soft and melodic. I can barely hear what she’s saying.

I think I must have misheard her. I’m so fucking desperate to have her stay with me…I convinced myself that what she said was “Sorry.”

Bad fucking time to start hallucinating, big man.

I’ve seen people totally lose it in the desert after being close to dehydration because they think they can see water. We’d have to strap ‘em down sometimes to keep them from wandering off trying to find it when we knew damn well it wasn’t fucking there.

Now here I am, imagining the woman I’ve come to love wants to stick by me after hearing the worst fucking thing I’ve ever done.

I know I’ve totally lost my mind when I feel her lips on me. Like millions of tiny butterflies, they caress my skin.

It’s so fucking amazing I decide to enjoy the sensation before getting back to reality. With Avery gone, I’ll be spending enough fucking time living the cold, hard reality. I may as well make the most of this imaginary situation as I can.

When a hand gently rubs mine, I peer through my fingers.

I can hardly fucking believe what I see.

There’s Avery. Large as life she’s sitting next to me. And not only that, she seems to be showing me fucking affection.

“Avery…” I start but can’t finish the sentence. I’m still too choked up to speak. It’s been fucking terrible reliving that most awful fucking experience of mine.

“Shhhh,” she coos and strokes my hair.

My heart melts, and the stabbing pain subsides. Is this really fucking happening?

She gets onto her knees next to me and starts kissing me. Her lips are soft, gentle, and soothing.

My insides melt.

No. I want to scream fucking scream at her to stop giving me affection I don’t fucking deserve, but no sound comes from my lips.

This is bad. Very fucking bad.

I’m a monster. Retelling the story has stirred up so many fucking emotions, and I can’t be trusted. The last think I want to do is fucking hurt the most precious and exquisite thing in my life.

“Avery, babe,” I try and push her away.

She persists and continues to smother me with affection.

Soon it’s going to be too fucking late.

My fucking massive cock is standing to attention already.

“Fuck, Avery,” I growl and grab her shoulders.

My intention it to push her away, but my hands don’t obey my commands. My brain is about to take a long vacation. I need to fucking stop. I don’t want to hurt her.

Chop-chop, don’t stop, that fucking monster growls inside my head.

Her hands glide down my hairy chest and caress my belly.

The flame flickering within me ignites into a giant wild fire. I want to take her now. I want to use my fucking cock and ram it right into that fucking tight and delicious pussy of hers.

Fucking stop, I try and tell myself, but I know it’s falling on deaf ears.

It’s too fucking late to turn back.

Self-control Jack, come on, and exercise some fucking self-control. My inner voice is struggling to be heard.

Years of training for special missions means I come equipped with plenty of self-control exercises. If only my brain stuck around long enough for me to take advantage of one. As it is, my fucking cock is in charge of the thinking right now, and all it wants is Avery.

Don’t think.

Just do.

Her fingers have reached the waistband of my blue jeans, and I can barely contain myself.

How has she managed to do this?

She’s a fucking witch. I knew it.

She’s a fucking angel.

One minute I’m a mess of a man, having just re-told the most horrific story of my life, and the next I’m ready to fuck her.

Easy boy, I think to myself.

She’s the woman you love. You don’t want to fucking hurt her.

If I give in to the pure animalistic lust growing inside me, all hell might break loose. If I lose my fucking self-control, I might spank that delicious tiny ass of hers or even just fucking fill it with my cock instead.

A cold shower is what might fucking help. If I can fucking get away from her and take a fucking cold shower, I might be able to reduce the enormous fire ripping through me.

Her fingers have managed to slide lower. Any second and she’ll be touching my fucking dick.

I stiffen. If I lose control, I don’t know what will happen.

I groan.

Avery’s face appears in front of mine. Huge blue eyes peer at me.

“Can I, Jack? Is this okay?”

Oh, fuck. She doesn’t just want me—she’s worried about me. Give me some rope so I can tie my hands to this fucking chair till my brain returns from its vacation and kicks lust in the fucking ass.

Her concern is leaving me breathless. No words escape my lips so instead, I shake my head.

For a few more seconds, those ocean eyes study me before realization registers.

Those delicious lips of hers curl up a little. Her index finger traces my lower lip.

“I think I see what’s going on.”

She gets off the couch and drops down in front of me.

No. No. No.

I’m still not fucking ready to accept responsibility for what the fuck might happen if we fuck now. I’m too fucking vulnerable and unpredictable. I’m a fucking monster.

Her fingers undo my zip and help my waiting cock out of its constraint. It leaps out and points straight upward.

Her fingers touch it lightly, almost too fucking lightly.

“Do you want it, Jack?”

Think unhappy thoughts. Don’t get swept away in the lust. But it’s no fucking good.

Like a piano player, she plays the scales on my cock.

At her touch, it swells even more, and I moan.

“Fuck, Avery, do it.”

My hands grab her face and I push her onto me.

Instead of fighting me, she obliges and opens her mouth. At first she only takes the tip of it into her mouth to suck on it.

Fireworks explode in my head, and I want to fucking push my cock right down her throat.

Her fingers are now playing with my balls as she takes me in all the fucking way. I wait for her to fucking gag, but she doesn’t. Almost too easily she accommodates me, even though I feel as if I’m halfway down her throat.

Any prior restraint is going out the fucking window. Her magic mouth is releasing any last bit of restraint I’ve been able to fucking exercise.

Avery expertly accepts my hard, fast thrusts in and out of her mouth. Not only does she fucking accommodate me, she fucking drives me mad with pleasure. Her tongue does things I can’t fucking understand, only feel.

It does not take long for my fucking cock to grow to fucking capacity, and I feel myself about to unload a massive amount of cum.

If she doesn’t want to swallow, it’s too fucking late.

I can’t pull out of her. I’m too far gone. I’ve jumped off the fucking cliff without a fucking parachute. The free fall is fucking exhilarating and exciting.

As she starts to swallow, hungrily and eagerly, it’s as if I’m landing on a sea of clouds. I float and shoot every last bit of me into her mouth.

She has no trouble swallowing the fucking lot.

Spent, I throw my head back and finally relinquish hers.

But what kind of man would I be if I let her finish me off like that without returning the favor?

No kind of man. No kind of man at all.