Hookups are a nice distraction but not being able to be myself in the moment sucks. I’m always inside my head, no matter what I do. I can never just let go and be myself…
Miles’ hands grasp the comforter as I push even deeper and add a second finger. My dick is aching, wanting to be inside him, to forget about everything but pleasure for just a few fucking minutes.
I stare at the bead of precum gathered on the tip of his pretty cock as I add a third finger. He groans, his hips lifting to meet my thrusts. His face scrunches up in pleasure. It’s both extremely hot and cute at the same time.
“Open the condom for me,” I tell him.
Breathing heavily, he lifts his head to look around the bed for it and grabs it when he spots it, tearing it open with trembling fingers. He offers it to me, and I roll it on with one hand while continuing to stretch him with the other. I move forward, pulling my fingers from him and replacing them with my cock. I slide in with ease, his body taking me like it was meant for it.
“Fuck,” I groan, hooking my arms under his thighs and pulling him to me so I can go deeper. He’s light and lets me move him the way I want.
“Oh my God,” he moans. “Yes, that feels so good.”
I fuck him hard and steady, watching the way he tenses, frantically looking for something to grasp onto. The sheets, my sides, my arms… his nails scrape into my skin, across his own chest. He’s animated while being fucked, and that is something Ireallylike.
He’s beautiful like this, speared on my cock and lost to the pleasure thatI’mgiving him.
“I’m… so close,” he breathes out, grasping onto my forearm. “You feel so good.”
I wrap my hand around his dick, stroking him along with my thrusts. He tenses further, tightening around my cock, and knowing he’s about to come has me about to come, too.
His dick erupts, covering his chest and my hand. I fuck him a little harder and the orgasm hits me suddenly. I spill into the condom, my dick throbbing its release. The orgasm rushes through my whole body, and for just a split second, everything in the world is good. It’s calm. It’s quiet.
I almost forget why I walked into that bar tonight.
Almost.
But the second it fades, the weight comes back tenfold. Smoke. Heat. The sound of someone begging me not to leave. The cries. The screams. The bullshit excuses. The empty bed. The lonely nights. The broken promises.
Miles brushes his fingers down my arm, his eyes closed, as if he’s doing it instinctively and not on purpose. There’s a drunken smile on his face that has everything to do with pleasure and nothing to do with the alcohol he consumed tonight. Still, it’s too much. I flinch back and get to my feet, pulling off and tying thecondom to toss into the wastebasket beside the nightstand. My hands tremble. My vision starts to blur.
“You okay?” Miles asks.
Why does he sound like he’s underwater?
I force myself to take a breath and look back at him.
He’s covered in cum, watching me curiously.
The nice thing to do would be to find him something to clean up with, but I’m panicking and I can’t think straight.
My pulse is racing. The room is too small. Too quiet and too loud all at the same time.
I stare at the wall over Miles’ head and I can see it—the hallway. The smoke crawling low. The sound of coughing. It was a bad shift, and I shouldn’t have come here. Alcohol and hookups don’t fix anything.
Fuck.
“JJ?”
I suck in air, but it’s not doing any good. My chest won’t move and I can’t breathe. It’s so fucking hard to breathe, like there’s no oxygen. There’s no smoke here, though. It’s clear. There’s no heat. No orange glow. No black smoke. It’s just me and Miles in his bedroom. The stranger I met at the bar, who took me home. We fucked, and now I need to go. I need to go. I have to fucking move.
Move, JJ! Go!
Someone’s arm is on me, and I jerk away, hitting my knee on the nightstand so hard I almost knock it over. It hurts enough that it clears my head.
Miles’ face comes into view. Soft. Sweet. Concerned.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out. I clear my throat, grabbing for my underwear and jeans to shove on. It takes three tries for me to get my boxer briefs on the right way. “I’m sorry,” I say again. “I don’t normally do this. The, uh…” I gesture around, my hand still trembling. “Hooking up and definitely not this. The panic.”
