Huh.
I reach down to stroke my dick a few times.
“Chaser?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to concentrate. “Give me a minute.” Christ, I was a hard as a fucking rock seconds ago.
I grab her tits, squeezing and kneading her flesh. Rolling my rough fingers over her nipples until she gasps and squirms under me.
Nothing.
“Chaser?”
My mind and body are ready to go. My girl’s primed and begging for it.
My damn dick is a sad, flaccid noodle.
This is a first.
Is this sexual karma? I let another woman put her hands on me, and now I can’t perform?
I need another line.
Blood’s still pounding through my ears from the three fat lines I snorted earlier. Why isn’t any of it making its way to my damn dick?
Fuck!
Guys back home joke about the horrible phenomenon they refer to as “coke dick” all the time. I’ve always been convinced it’s why my father has no issue selling the shit, but never touched it himself.
I’ve only been doing it for a short time.
I don’t use enough for this to happen.
Do I?
I wrap my hand around my sad cock, trying to stroke it back to a happy state.
Nothing.
Apparently, I do.
Unacceptable.
Stunned and disgusted with myself, I fall down next to her.
“What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?” Mallory asks.
Jesus, fuck no, I can’t have her thinking that. “No, babe. It’s not you.”
It’s me.
What have I done?
Chapter Thirty-One
Mallory
Last night was a nightmare, right?
Chaser made up some excuses, got me off with his hands and then went to sleep.
At least I thought he went to sleep.
I wake up alone in our bed.
That can’t be good.
Worried, he’s doing God knows what, I jump out of bed and hurry into the living room.
And breathe a sigh of relief.
He’s sitting on the couch, writing in his song notebook.
“Hey.” My voice barely above a whisper.
He tips his head up and gives me a pained smile. “Morning.”
“How long have you been up?” I ask.
“Never slept.”
My face must fall because he hurries to add. “I haven’t left the apartment.”
We stare at each other. His haunted eyes and beautiful face twist me up inside. He looks exhausted, broken, and remorseful. I love him so much but have no idea how to help him.
Finally, we break our staring contest, and he beckons me closer. “I need to talk to you.”
Cautious, I approach with slow steps. Is he going to end things? Tell me he’s moving out? Ask me to move out?
He reaches out and takes my hands, drawing me closer. “I need to go home.”
“What? Why? When?”
He presses a finger against my lips. “You were right. I have a problem. I can’t kick it here. The only way I can do it is if I go home for at least a few weeks.” He cocks his head and stares at me. “Will you come with me?”
Sweet, sweet relief washes over me. “Oh my God, yes! Of course, I will!” I shout like it’s a damn marriage proposal.
His eyes widen, and he sits back. “Really? You’re not pissed?”
“Oh, I’m still mad about last night—”
“No, what about work, Mallory?”
The man I love is admitting he has a problem and asking for my help. There’s no way I would ever say no to him.
“I’ll tell my agent I’ll be out of town for a few weeks.” I press my palms to his face. His cheeks scratch my hands with about a week’s worth of stubble. “You’re more important to me.”
He closes his eyes and blows out a long breath. “Thank you.”
“Besides,” I drop my head, “I feel guilty.”
“Hey.” He tips my chin up. “This isn’t your fault. I thought I was smarter than everyone else, and it was no big deal. That is absolutely, one-hundred percent on me. I know it’s not fair of me to ask, but I can’t get better without you.”
Chaser’s a proud man. I know how hard it probably is to admit he needs help. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
“Christ.” He shakes his head. “My father’s gonna kick my ass.”
It’s mean, but I can’t help laughing. “I think a good old-fashioned ass-kicking is exactly what you need.”
Chaser
I wish I wasn’t high. Maybe it’s a good thing, though. Because if I could actually feel anything, I might cry with relief that Mallory isn’t going to kick me to the curb after last night. And I think I’ve humiliated myself enough in the past twenty-four hours.
After Mallory fell asleep, I watched her until the sun peeked around the edges of the curtains. Even as I came down from my high, love for her filled me. I can’t lose her. I won’t.
Then I rolled over and snorted a line.
That’s when I knew it was time to go home.
“Come here.” I pull her closer for a kiss, and she ducks her head. Panic races through my fucked-up brain. “Mallory?”
“Did you make the arrangements yet?” Her big blue eyes shine with hope.