Three, Two, One (321) - Page 37/92

“How do you know what I need?”

“You already told me. You need Jimmy Laszlio.”

“It’s Laslos, not Laszlio. And he’s dead. So if he’s what I need, then I’m good and fucked.”

“Not the Jimmy Laslos, Blue. But a guy like him.”

She thinks about this for a moment. Serious, thoughtful consideration. “A guy who is the complete opposite of you and JD.”

“Yup. We’re just gonna fuck you up more if you stick around.”

“Well, then I look forward to it. A person can never be fucked up enough in my book. My fucked-upness is the only thing I’ve got going for me at the moment.”

I let that settle as the last word on the matter. What do I care, anyway? I’ve got her in my bed. Naked. I’ve got my arms around her. I got her to admit something personal. And when the sun comes up in a few hours, I’m going to take enough pictures of this girl to get me through a lifetime of loneliness and regret.

The tub slowly fills with water and with each rising inch, the sorrow takes over. Maybe it’s just a delayed reaction to the shock of the beating. Or maybe it’s the realization that I got away. But I don’t think so.

I think the sadness comes from losing hope. From giving up. From surrender. Sadness feeds on reality, that moment when you realize you can’t win—not the war, not the battle, not even a street-corner fistfight.

Am I giving up?

Ark’s footsteps are soft as he crosses the room. I can see him out of the corner of my eye as he enters the bathroom. “What are you doing?”

I’m taking a bath. But that’s not what he means and I know it.

“Don’t you think you should go look for him?” I look up at Ark. He stands tall and nude. His dick is long and semi-hard, hanging between his legs. His chest is muscular in a way that tells me he lifts. And his face…

Ark’s face is the stuff you masturbate to. His two-day-old beard is hot in a movie-star way. His dark hair and dark eyes don’t say dangerous, they say sexy.

He is one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. He is the opposite of JD. And that’s not saying JD is ugly. Not at all. JD is charming. And cute. And hot. In all the ways that Ark is not.

They are like night and day. Dark and light. Maybe even good and evil.

“He’ll come home on Thursday, for sure.” Ark steps into the tub, pushing my body so I lean forward, and then he slips into the water behind me. “He won’t miss work.”

Who is this man?

How did I get from where I was to where I am?

Why do I constantly have to ask myself this question?

“Did you like school growing up, Blue?”

“You’re out of questions. You owe me, I don’t owe you.”

His laugh makes his chest rumble beneath my back. “You’re right. I do. But we’ve got all day, so let’s just talk for now. High school. Yes or no?”

I let out a long breath and try to enjoy the intimacy he’s offering. I don’t get a lot of offers. “Yes, I liked school.”

“Were you smart? Did you get good grades?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you want to be when you grew up?”

And there it is. He’s pretty good at this, I have to give him credit for that. He’s asking questions about the distant past so he can draw conclusions about the present.

“It’s not a hard question.”

“What did you want to be?” I ask, not to be a bitch and throw it back in his face, but because I’m interested. “King of Public Porn was something you aspired to?”

“Believe it or not, I wanted to be a soldier. A Navy SEAL.”

“Hmmm. Tough one. It’s like me saying I wanted to be a novelist.” I look over my shoulder a little so I can get a peek at his face. But he surprises me by resting his scratchy chin on my shoulder, making the moment even more intimate than it was.

“Huh. I don’t see the connection.”

I roll my eyes even though he can’t see them. “It’s a dream people have. The reality of it is so much bullshit.”

“Because it’s hard to make it to the finish line?”

“Are you a Navy SEAL?”

“Are you a novelist?”

“No, that’s my point. It’s just a dream.”

“Do you even write?” His hands slide up my front and cup my breasts. He squeezes them hard and the familiar throbbing begins between my legs. Goddamn, this guy is good. Always got his eye on the prize. And how the fuck did sex with him become a treat I desire instead of the other way around? How did he do that? Make me want him so thoroughly?

“Blue?”

I let out a long breath, hoping to calm the rising storm building inside me. But the heat of the water, and the heat of his body, and the heat of my own desire are all I can think about. So instead of evading, and because I want him to fuck me so badly, and at this point I realize he knew that denying me last night would make me even more susceptible this morning… I answer him with the truth. “I do.”

“Mmm,” he says, his hands rubbing down the inside of my thighs. They dip so low, I can feel the water swirl around my clit.

This makes me gasp a little, and for a fraction of a second, I’m embarrassed. But then the little swirls of water are back and that’s all I can think about.

“Fuck me,” I whisper.

“What do you write, Blue?” he asks like a man in control.