Rebecca Berto

I__ either with you forever, or I__ not. I__ not into games or fucking around. I__e had enough experience to know what to hold onto when I get it.

He pries me from his chest and drops his hand from the back of my head, tracing my ear, along my jawline. He snatches his fingers a moment before they press into my lip.

You know there__ this gaping space between us, and if I leaned forward I__ grab Dex__ shirt without ever touching him. You know there__ a three-inch-thick glass wall separating us.Now we know, too.

Charlee has my arm. She has my arm__y arm that__ rigid from pleasure, from her touch__n her little fingers. She holds my other one, too and she__ right there, that sweet candy perfume stripping the rest of the strength from my body, and it escapes in a soft, breathy sigh.

His kiss was light but lingering, like smoke from shivering lips on a freezing winter morning.

Finishing my thoughts aloud meant saying how my dad had passed, and I had failed. How I had smoked joints and lay in bed enabling my hopelessness. I__ been the ugly in my world.

When I__ remember this night in weeks, months, or even years, it wouldn__ be the sex. Sex would fade and so would the need to be filled with him, but right now I felt him inscribe his soul around my chest, and the reminder would be there with every beat for as long as I lived.