Read Online Bittersweet Symphony by J.L. Beck - Free Book Online

heart.

Ryder
     
    My fist pounds into the punching bag over and over again as the sweat pools down my face. I force myself not to call or text her to make sure she’s okay. She told me her feelings, and I told her to leave. I shoved her out the door, breaking our freshly paved bond.
    It’s not her fault though, I am so angry by what she said about that douchebag did to her, how he touched her. It caused an eruption of something in me, made worse by her trying to be protective. That beautiful, abused girl tried protecting the bully.
    I can feel the skin of my knuckles cracking and the burn in my back and arms, but I push through it. It’s either this or find fuck-face and beat him into next year, and I don’t think Rex wants to come and bail me out of jail.
    I pull myself off the punching bag and wrap a towel around my face to wipe the sweat away. I need a shower like no other. I make my way to the back of the gym and into the locker room. It’s quiet and calming, just what I need with all the shit running through my mind.
    Turning the water on, I wait for the area to steam a little before getting in. I rip off my work out gear and jump in. I let the water beat on my face and chest for a while, pondering if I should go to Kennedy and apologize. I know there is no way I can live without her in my life. I share something with her that I share with no one else. To most people that might seem like nothing, but to me it is huge. It is everything.
    Turning around, I reach for the soap; just as my hand lands on the bottle, I feel a hand land on my shoulder. I look down and notice the perfectly polished, red fingernails. 
    “Chelsea,” I hiss out. It’s been awhile since I’ve slept with anyone. I have been trying to be a good boy and keep my dick out of everything with a hole, because it shamed me to associate myself with Kennedy while doing such disgraceful things. But right now, Chelsea’s hand was looking awfully nice along with her mouth which was turned up in a sneaky smile. She knew exactly where to find me. This interaction in this very shower stall has happened on numerous occasions.
    “I want you,” she purrs. Her nails dig into my shoulders. Chelsea isn’t ugly; she’s beautiful in her own way. She’s no K, but she has something going for her.
    “How badly?” I ask, tempting her. I want to see her beg. She knows how I like it, and I won’t give her shit if she doesn’t give me what I want.
    “So bad… “she replies, gripping my cock in her hand. Her grip is tight just how I like, and I reach out to reward her with my touch.
    “I’ve fingered myself with the image of you pounding into me from behind.” Of course she has, I know how she likes it too.
    “Knees, now. I don’t have any condoms on me, sorry,” I say giving her a wink, hoping it’ll lower the blow. She’s never walked away from giving me a blow job, and I know she won’t now. A satisfied smile plays on her lips as she settles herself onto the tiled floor.
    Her hand grips my balls, and I groan. Fuck, it’s been way too long. The moment she hears my groan, her lips descend over my dick. My hands grab her hair, and all I can picture is Kennedy’s sunshine blonde hair, and her blue eyes pleading with me to pump into her mouth faster. My eyes pop open immediately as I try and get the visions of Kennedy’s pink lips wrapped around my throbbing dick out of my mind.
    Chelsea takes me deeper into her mouth, making sure to hit that spot I like so much. My fingers dig harder than needed into her hair as I pump with all my might. The blissfulness takes over as I feel myself floating, my legs tingling, and I feel above myself. I feel Chelsea’s tongue swirling over my cum as she chugs every ounce down. That alone turns me on enough to give one last push. But just as I close my eyes, images of Kennedy assault me again.
    Then I realize Chelsea may have been giving the blow job, but I was thinking about Kennedy the whole time. Fuck, this girl