I can’t even count the number of times I have told myself to give up smoking. It’s just one of those things that everyone hates, yet many people need to survive. One of those people being me.

I was sixteen when I smoked my first cigarette. My step-dad had been smoking around the house for years before that, but I never paid it too much attention. It was just a dirty habit that stunk up the house. It wasn’t until he offered me a puff from his that I smoked for the first time.

Every night after Mom left the house for another exhausting night shift at the sketchy restaurant down the block, Allen would offer me a smoke. I suppose in a fucked up way; it became our thing. It was the only time that there weren’t any harsh words or the common physical dispute taking place in the house.

I wish I had someone back then to tell me how stupid of a habit it was. Maybe I would have quit. Perhaps I wouldn’t have. I guess we’ll never know.

The familiar burn of the cigarette tears through my throat as I take another hit from the cigarette. The air outside would sting my skin if it wasn’t for the liquor rushing through my system, keeping me warm. I relax my shoulders for the time being, thankful for the puddle of alcohol in my belly that has cleared my mind. It’s nights like these that I can understand why someone would want to say fuck being sober, and just stay drunk. For just a few pained breaths, I can sympathize with my mom.

After a few minutes, I decide to head back inside. I drop the cigarette and use the heel of my shoe to stomp it out. Taking one final deep breath of the cool, fresh air, I go back inside. The music is quieter now, although I’m sure that’s just another side effect of all of the booze I’ve consumed in the past two hours.

As I walk towards the bar, I catch sight of her again. It’s nearly impossible not to: Golden curls flow along her back, bouncing with each step. Leather pants cover her long, toned legs and her tight, black crop top does nothing to hide her cherry belly-button piercing.

My eyes stay locked on her and I watch her dance, confidence dripping off of her like honey from a wooden dipper with every move. I catch sight of a short, skinny guy moving towards her. He places himself behind her and rests his grubby hands on the exposed skin above her waist. I’m moving towards them before I can stop myself, tension trickling into my shoulders again. I shove the guy off of her without so much as a response from him. I take his place behind her with an aggravated, almost possessive, grunt and shake my head.

Her skin feels hot under my fingertips, scorching my skin in a way that should have made me release her go and turn back, not tighten my grip on her hips. The satisfaction comes next, a few seconds after her back relaxes against my chest. She’s swaying so steadily, so confidently that I start swaying with her, our bodies molding together into a glob of forbidden energy and undeniable lust.

I’m not new to touching Gracie by any means, but this feels new. This touch is public—unrestricted. And fuck, that makes it even hotter. It’s getting more difficult to keep from pressing my dick between her ass cheeks as more people keep slamming into me. It’s not long before I’m sucking air between my teeth in a sharp hiss. Any previous attempt to keep her from noticing how hard I am becomes futile when I’m shoved a bit too hard. My cock is now nestled against her lower back. And she surprises me as much as she does herself when she spins around, still tucked in my arms but further back, and I relax slightly. Her lips part as she stares at me with a clouded, drunken gaze that makes me want to wrap my hands around the neck of the guy who was just touching her.

‘Ty?’ she asks, gripping my biceps to steady herself. My hands loosen their grasp and my fingers travel across the skin of her lower back, over her hip bones, until they rest just under her belly button, grazing the waistband of her leather pants. The tremor that runs through her body wouldn’t even be noticeable to almost everybody else, but I catch it.

‘Yeah. It’s me,’ I murmur. I beg myself to back away as she takes a cautious step towards me, closing the distance left between us. She pushes against me and I tense when she places a palm on my abdomen and creeps upwards.

‘We stopped for a reason, Gray.’ I almost choke on the nickname, my eyes not daring to leave hers, no matter how much I beg them to. When she smiles sweetly—innocently—I know that this won’t end well.

‘Nobody has to know. It can stay our little secret. Like before.’

Her words echo in my mind, and the danger of our actions washes away with my drunken thoughts. The only thing I can focus on is how fucking good she feels against me again. I move my hand up her side, not stopping until I thread my fingers through her hair. I stare at her mouth in nothing but absolute awe as her tongue peeks through her lips and runs along her bottom lip, wetting it.

‘Fuck it.’

My lips crash down on hers in a searing kiss as soon as the words fall between us. Her reaction is immediate and she ravishes me with wet, open-mouthed kisses. She is just as addicted to the taste of me as I am to the strawberry lip gloss that is now smeared across our mouths. The hand that was once on my chest has now snaked its way into my hair while her other one rests possessively in the front pocket of my jeans. When I nip at her bottom lip, she lets out a soft moan and I force my tongue through her parted lips, wrapping it around hers. She pulls away, lust swimming in the blue of her eyes.

‘Uber.’

‘Uber?’ I repeat, bemused. She ignores me and takes her phone out of her purse, staring down at the bright screen.

‘My Uber is here. I ordered one earlier. ‘ she says, and I don’t miss the suggestion in her words..

‘You sure?’

She just nods in her head in response and reaches down to wrap her hand around mine. I pull my hand away, noticing the rejection flash across her eyes and lace our fingers together instead.

‘Let’s go then.’

Hands are moving, and clothes are flying the second we get inside my apartment. My fingers skillfully unzip those fucking leather pants and I push them down Gracie’s legs. She attaches her lips to my neck with a wet kiss and I bite back the grunt of satisfaction rising from my throat. She finally kicks the fucking skin-tight pants across the apartment and I pull back.

‘Never wear those again,’ I growl, lifting her up and pressing her back against the wall with a thud. My lips meet hers again, pressing against them so roughly, I fear they’ll bruise. She wraps her legs around my waist and her greedy, frantic, fingers fumble with the button of my jeans. The button pops open and she pushes the waistband of my jeans down with her feet, her hands occupied, running roughly through my hair. A deep laugh rips through me when she shoves my pants to my ankles.

My vision blurs as I reach down and rub between her legs, the heat making me grin. Her breath hitches and I continue to rub my thumb along the soaked material of her pink panties. Gracie reaches for the waistband of my underwear and I shove them down my legs, pushing her panties to the side.

‘I’m still on the pill.’ The breathy words reach my ears, and I manage to nod before I dip a finger into her. She throws her head against my shoulder, mouth open, her teeth graze my skin as I slide in another finger.

‘You’re soaking already,’ I groan, my nose brushing the side of her ear. Her pussy is so fucking tight, clenching my fingers with a vice like grip that makes my cock swell against her stomach. She nods against my neck, the sounds of her satisfaction vibrate through my skin, filling the room. I reach down and tease her entrance, coating my fingers in her arousal.

‘Are you sure about this?’ I grind out the question and kick myself as soon as the words leave my lips. If she doesn’t want this, then I’ll look like a complete idiot, letting myself get wrapped up in Gracie’s web of attraction for a second time. I knew I should have kept far away from her. But to my surprise and delight, she responds to my question by reaching down and wrapping her small hand around my dick; she strokes me twice in an attempt to stop my premature chastising.

Gracie stares down at the pulsing cock in her fist, her eyes wide and black with a desire, begging me to give her what we both crave. I know I should back away, tell her to leave and hit my head against the wall for getting myself into this position again, but I can’t stop. Her body is paradise against mine and the familiarity of it is driving me so far up the wall I have to fight off the urge to check myself for a radioactive spider bite.

Choosing to quit wasting time, I grab under her thighs and wrap them around my hips. I then give myself a few strokes and slide my cock between her slippery folds, burying myself inside of her. I bite my lip so hard I taste blood and hold her unfocused gaze, growing annoyed as she keeps her pleasure held inside—hidden from me. Even with every violent thrust, she keeps her eyes from rolling into the back of her head and stays focused on me. It’s as though she’s become more fixated on not being the first one to break eye contact than she is that I’m hitting the spot I know makes her pussy sing symphonies for me. As she continues biting back her whimpers, I slow down, forcing her to lose the little game she is so hellbent on winning.

I slow my movements to the point where she tightens her legs around me, digging her heels into the back of my thighs to try to force me to move faster, harder, deeper.

“Harder,” she whines, breathless, even though I am doing all of the work. Not that I mind: She knows I like being the one in control.

I lean into her and press my lips against her ear. I bite the sensitive skin and murmur, “Beg for it.”

Her head falls back against the wall and her eyes squeeze shut so tightly, the skin wrinkles at the corners. She’s touching every part of my body that she can reach, scratching and pulling at me, frantic as her orgasm approaches.

“Please, Ty. Fuck me harder,” Gracie whimpers. I reach down to tug on her clit and give her what she craves, knowing that I won’t last much longer with how tight she is around me; gripping my cock like she’s scared it will disappear any second. She sighs in response, the sound drifting up my spine before buzzing in my ears. With her hands tangled in my hair, she pulls my head closer until our lips smash together, burning from the force of the bruising kiss.

I know I’m going to come soon when she clenches around me, biting down on my tongue. Her back arches, and she shouts my name loud enough that it reverberates through the walls. She tries hard to keep herself upright as the energy drains from her. I follow close behind her, and push into her harder, my forehead smacking against the wall above her head.

“Fuck,” I groan. “Oh shit.” I shoot my load inside of her, my pulse going a million miles a minute. My thrusts slow until they stop, my arms aching from holding her up.

She giggles and drops her legs, sliding her bare ass down the wall, her hands against my sweaty chest.

“That was even better than I remember.”

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