Take (Need #2)(48)

His body.

His need.

My own.

I was right. I always knew—Brayden isn’t a one time f*ck.

Not for me.

The absoluteness of this sends me to the floor. This was why. I miss him inside me, now that I know how good it is. I want more.

No. Not a want. A need.

An itch I scratched and shouldn’t have, because I knew my body has always known I’d want more.

I can’t be here when he wakes.

I spot my phone under a makeshift table and reach for it. Waking it up, I sigh in relief. There isn’t much power left, but it’s enough to contact someone. My fingers fly on the screen as I text my girls.

911 I need a ride.

I glance down again and groan. Years of pent-up lust is painted all over my skin, and I’m still naked with nothing to wear.

Across the room is Brayden’s duffle, the one he always travels with, and I pray it has something I can wear inside.

As I unzip the bag, I sigh with relief—everything is neatly folded. Clean. Sitting on top is a Purdue T-shirt I’ve seen him wear, and I slip it on before digging down further.

Pants are out of the question—he’s a foot taller than me. I luck out with a pair of basketball shorts. They still hit mid-calf on me, but at least there’s a drawstring to help keep the waist up.

My phone chimes beside me, and I grab for it to silence the ringer.

Recon mission? I’m in. Where are you?

Jenna, my savior.

I type back, needing out now.

Columbus.

I love my friends. It takes seconds for her to respond. I swear Jenna has the fastest fingers I’ve ever seen.

Damn. Sit tight. Text me the address and I’ll get my speedy ass there ASAP.

Address? Shit. I was too absorbed by Brayden to pay attention to where he was taking me. All I knew was that it was taking too damn long to get his cock back inside me.

I walk quietly around for anything that might tell me where I am when a yellow slip of paper catches my eyes. It’s a delivery form. Lady luck seems to be siding with me, and I text the address to Jenna.

Just hit Wilmington. GPS says 50 minutes. I say less.

She’s already to Wilmington? At the rate she’s going, less is right. My phone beeps, letting me know there’s only ten percent left on the battery.

Phone’s almost dead. Meet you at the entrance.

I find my wristlet and do everything I can to keep the keys from jingling, then pick up my shoes as I head to the door. There are a few bottles of water sitting on the counter near the door, and I swipe one.

With ninja skills, I open the door, turning the lock before just as gently closing it.

I grimace as I look down at my bare feet, the four-inch heels in my hand, and the stairs. I’ve never liked walking around barefoot outside, but options are limited.

The second I’m outside and walking away, the itch returns.

His tattoos . . .

He permanently marked his body with bits of me.

Happiness floods in, but is quickly drowned by ice.

He hurt me, so many times. How can I trust him with my heart ever again?

I can’t.

I know it.

I’ve said it a thousand times arguing with myself. It would destroy me.

And the fear returns. Because I’m feeling something more than hatred. Different from the rage of the past six months. More than friendship. A feeling I buried long ago, one he damaged beyond repair.

It scares me.

I don’t want to be that naive little girl again.

I refuse.

I need to control this feeling before it spirals out of control, before he has a chance to hurt me again.

My eyes squint against the bright sun as I walk. A flare of light catches my eye, and I spot a familiar Toyota Camry across the parking lot. It still has the Class of 2012 bumpersticker on it, in our school’s maroon and white letters. There’s a dent in the bumper from when Dana backed it up into our mailbox as she stormed off after a fight with Ryan last summer.

I forgot that Brayden said he was a few buildings down from them.

I think about going over for about two seconds. Ryan’s there. I haven’t seen much of him this summer. He’s barely been home.

Not that I blame him. That place is not a good environment. Toxic.

Then again, if he came, he might see how unhappy Mom’s become and convince her to do something about it.

And that’s why I won’t go over. I don’t want him to see me in Brayden’s clothes, sneaking out of Brayden’s apartment, thinking too much about what it means.

It means nothing.

Sex.

And that’s all it’s going to be.

Yeah, no denying it. I already admitted to myself I want more. And I really want more.

But just for the sex.

Fuck. The sex.

Better than every fantasy of it I’d ever had.

I can do it—use him. A few more times to get him out of my system, and then bye for good.

I make it to the entrance of the apartment complex and sit on the brick landscaping wall.

The wait is killing me because all I can think about is Brayden. Why can’t I stop? Over and over.

One second with his skin on mine held more pleasure than every second I’ve ever had with Austin combined.

It’s so strong I know I can easily get lost in it, in him.

But I won’t.