Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(107)

“Go f*ck yourself,” Briggs sassed.

“Why would I do that? When I could just f*ck you.”

She immediately got up from her chair to run away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I laughed, grabbing her around the waist.

She shrieked, doubling over as I tickled her.

“You’re supposed to let me run first. It takes all the fun out of it if you catch me before I get a chance to run, Austin!” she giggled, gasping for air.

It was still the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.

“Why would I have to chase you if you’re already in my arms?”

“Because I run and you chase! That’s the game we play,” she playfully teased.

I loved these moments with her. She was so carefree and happy again.

My girl.

“Is that right?”

I tickled her one last time before turning her around to face me, roughly smacking her luscious ass and giving it a squeeze. She let out a yelp and squirmed in my arms, trying to break free.

Her mouth parted and she bit her lower lip, making my cock twitch. I picked her up to straddle my waist, rubbing her up and down my hard dick.

“I like this game better,” I rasped, carrying her over to the front counter of my tattoo shop.

Positioning her ass on the edge.

It had been four years since my relapse that night on the beach. Each day was a struggle, but it was getting better and easier as more time went by. Briggs dropped me off at rehab the morning after I used. I checked myself into the ninety-day program. We only told Dylan what was going on. She told everyone else that I had to finish up some work stuff in New York.

No one asked after that.

During that time Briggs got really close to my family and friends, including my dad, which shocked me more than anything did. But then again, she always had that effect on people. She was hard not to love. I knew having a family was what Briggs had always wanted, and I was thrilled that they were able to offer her that.

Rehab f*cking sucked.

But I stayed and did what I was supposed to.

For her.

Anything for her…

I tried exercises and stretches, but my back pain was still there. Mostly, I just kept ignoring it. It became a part of me like my addiction. I went to my classes, I did my therapy, I found a sponsor, and I worked through my steps to achieve my ultimate goal.

To stay in recovery.

I was scared shitless the last day of my program, even though I wanted nothing more than to go home to Briggs. To sleep in our bed together. To hold her anytime I wanted or needed. My counselor said that was normal for everyone to feel scared to enter the real world again. That it would have been weird if I didn’t feel that way. It was easier to stay clean in a controlled environment.

Briggs found us a four-bedroom, three-bath house with a pool and a huge backyard. She had it fully decorated by the time I came home. The house was beautiful but not nearly as beautiful as the smile on her face when she jumped into my arms the day I was discharged with a treatment plan that I kept everyday for the last four years.

We christened every corner of our new home, making up for lost time.

Twice.

We had more money than we knew what to do with, but I was getting restless needing to do something. I started sketching again, after years of being so f*cking high, and numb. It not only affected my body but also my creativity. One day out of nowhere, I was drawing a sleeping Daisy on the couch beside me and for some reason her tattoos were my main focus in the sketch.

When she woke up I asked her what she thought about me getting my license to become a tattoo artist. She smiled, replying by kissing all over my face and sucking my cock like a goddamn pro in approval.

We opened a shop not long after. I tattooed and she handled all the managerial, customer service bullshit that I didn’t give a f*ck about.

Her uncle had come to visit us a few times, checking in and keeping tabs on us I imagined. They still had a weird dynamic, but at least he was trying to be around in the only way he knew how. During his visits, we never talked about the past, but it was always lurking just around the corner. I would be lying if I said that seeing him didn’t trigger the demons that I had managed to keep at bay. I think a part of him knew that too.

“What's your favorite thing to do, Austin?” Briggs whispered, looking deep into my eyes as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

Bringing me closer to her.

I immediately caged her in with my arms around her pretty little face. Slightly pulling back her hair at the nook of her neck just like she loved. I leaned in close to her mouth, biting her bottom lip and huskily rasped, “Fucking you, baby. That's my favorite thing to do.”

We were happy again.

And more in love than ever.

“Prove it,” she challenged.

I didn’t have to be told twice. It was after hours, and we owned the f*cking place. She was counting inventory and decided to sass me with her smart-ass mouth.

Her body was perfectly proportionate with mine as I stood in between her legs. She looked up at me with adoration and yearning. The heady expression that I could never get enough of had me losing control. I roughly grabbed the back of her neck and plunged my tongue into her eager and awaiting mouth. It went back and forth between us, each giving the other what we craved. She clutched on to my hair and I pulled on hers, beckoning her head to fall back and give me the liberty to assault her neck.