Hello, Mother
The next few days are a blur.
They all mesh together and I can only say that I’ve eaten and gotten out of bed because of Zaid’s careful encouragement.
I avoid my phone like the plague. I don’t even dare to turn on the T.V., unwilling to see the chaos that’s unfolding online.
Back in Florida, it was like a wildfire. Once people at my school found out about what happened, it turned for the worst. People would look at me as they whispered in the corners with their friends.
Some students that I had never even talked to, were doing interviews, or posting videos about how they know the girl that survived that terrible crash. It was a constant reminder that my life had been torn apart.
I imagine the same will happen here, and it might be worst. There was no doubt that I was a victim in Florida, but when it comes to things like this, women have been villianized more than once.
Zaid, Aiden and Jake have been accommodating. They don’t bring it up and I’ve been able to stay in my bubble. They’re attentive physically, their touches taking me out of reality.
Last night was a good one, and I wake up in our bedroom this morning with satisfaction between my legs. The giant bed swallows me whole and I frown when I notice that I’m alone.
The silk nightgown clings to me as I shift, my skin prickling beneath it.
I hear the water running in the en-suite bathroom. Poking my head in, I find Zaid under the stream, head bowed, hands braced against the tiles. My mouth waters at the sight of his back, his ass, those toned legs.
I don’t disturb him, though. He’s been beside me non stop and he deserves a moment or two to himself. I slip out of the room and head downstairs, needing water.
As I reach the bottom step, I pause. Jake is standing in front of the TV, shirtless, his back muscles straining, his posture rigid. He’s only wearing sweats, the waistband riding low on his hips, but it’s the tension rolling off of him that makes my stomach knot.
I step closer, peering over his shoulder, and my breath catches in my throat. The news is on.
A reporter is talking about Mr. Admas, but my gaze is immediately drawn to the screen where Sadie sits across from them, speaking animatedly with a smile on her face. I hear my name before I even fully process the words.
She’s questioning my honesty. My testimony about what happened that night.
My breath stutters out of me in a sharp gasp.
Jake turns at the sound, his expression darkening before he immediately shuts the T.V. off. He moves toward me, cupping my face, his thumbs gently wiping at tears I didn’t realize had spilled.
“What—” I whisper, but I don’t know how to finish the sentence.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”
I shake my head. “I don’t—I can’t—”
The panic is clawing up my throat, threatening to unravel me. I don’t want to fall apart. So I do the only thing I can think of to drown it out. The only thing that has been helping the darkness in my mind.
I kiss him.
Jake doesn’t hesitate. He lifts me and walks, setting me on the counter, his hands gripping my thighs as his lips move against mine. I sink into it, into the safety of him, into the way his fingers tangle in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make my body hum with distraction.
He pulls away, looking down at me as he pulls my head back until I’m hissing. “Alina. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
I shake my head, a panic attack on the precipice of my mind. I don’t want to fall apart. “Please. just let me forget for right now, please.”
He watches as the tears fall down my cheeks.
“Oh, baby,” he mutters. His fingers pinch the spaghetti strap of my nightgown, dropping it down my arm until my right breast is exposed.
His eyes drop down to my nipple, and he lowers his head. I sigh into him, my skin lighting up when he runs his tongue up and down my skin. A gasp leaves my lips as fire shoots through me.
Yes, anything to stop my mind from thinking.
I look down, his dark hair shifting, his lips against me as he sucks my breast into his mouth. He bites down, then soothes with his tongue.
Every tug from his mouth has me whimpering. Watching him devour my breast is a more erotic sight than I thought possible.
My breath is a broken mess, and he lifts his head, my skin glistening from his mouth. He runs his thumb up and down my nipple, circling it in deliberate, slow movements.
“What do you need from me right now, baby?”
I sigh, lifting my right foot to the counter, bringing my knee up and opening myself wide. My night gown shifts, bunching up at my waist, exposing my wet, needy pussy.
I don’t care that I’m still sore from last night.
I need this.
His eyes drop down to look at me. It’s a hungry, sweeping look. He doesn’t hesitate, pulling his cock from his pants and setting it right at my entrance.
When his eyes land on me, I shake my head. “Not soft. I don’t want tender.”
His nostrils flare.
“Fuck me hard.”
He thrusts into me, and my scream is lodged in my throat. My spine hits the counter from how hard he’s thrusting into me, his hands holding onto my thighs.
I drop my elbows back to hold myself up. He’s thrusting hard, my entire body shuddering and moving as he slams into me.
Then he pulls out, his hand buried in my hair. He pulls tight until tears fall down from the pain. He grabs my hips, tilting me and then thrusts into me again, our chests bumping into each other, his hand on my scalp burning me and his cock lighting up every inch of my body.
“Jake.”
He moans, deep and needy. “Give it to me, baby.”
He drops a hand to my clit, circling it in hard, fast circles. I roll my hip against his, seeking pleasure like a dog in heat.
“Fuck,” he grunts, his hold on my hair tightening, his fingers on my clit working harder.
I come. Screaming into his mouth as he sucks my lips between his teeth. I’m trembling, the adrenaline shooting through me.
Another defense to stop the breakdown that is inevitably coming.
We breathe into each other, coming down. I didn’t even feel when he came inside me. He pulls out, tucks himself back in his pants, but returns his finger on my nipple, circling it in soft, comforting movements.
The front door opens.
I hear it, but it doesn’t register. Not at first. I’m so used to Jake, Aiden and Zaid moving about the house. I’ve gotten used to the sound of people moving around me, doesn’t matter if I have a tongue down my throat, or a cock deep inside me.
It has become my normal.
So Jake and I don’t move, still entranced by our orgasms, still breathing into each other.
A sharp, high-pitched gasp cuts through the air.
Jake and I break apart instantly, my heart slamming into my ribs.
And standing in the doorway, her face twisted in shock and fury, is my mother.
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