❝got paid enough to get what i crave. stolen luxury, orange skies, white streets. lie close to me. kiss me all over my body, help me forget about everyone everywhere else.❞
— double grave, new year's day

♥

SCARLETT TASTES SURREAL, like a cloud of cotton candy, a cocktail of sugar and air melting on my tongue. I can't find the will to break the endlessly sweet kiss that had stolen time and space, and even as the car comes to a grinding halt in Bushwick, I pull her with me, out onto icy gravel, out into the hazy darkness of an early morning, out into the reverie of a New Year.

2020.

I'd never been more sad and stupid in my entire fucking life, and somehow, I still managed to hook up with this sexy spitfire of a woman. Scarlett. Fuck, even her name is full of this sizzling electricity that leaves me... hot. I feel lighter, yet fuller, carelessly clinging to her fingers and her shoulders and her collarbone and her hips, incapable of words or thoughts, or... anything that doesn't involve kissing her.

A soft moan floods up her throat, butchering a string of breathless demands, and I grin, dizzy, so fucking lightheaded by the way her body feels tight against mine, that I don't give a fuck what she's trying to say. I don't care.

"Here," she pants, wrapping fingers around my wrist, dragging my hand beneath her jacket. Every ounce of blood in my body rushes to my dick as I graze soft, smooth skin, warmth radiating from my fingertips to the pit of my stomach, but before I can even enjoy the sensational perfection of her tits, a stroke of lukewarm metal presses into my palm. Her keys. "Tenth floor, Nick."

I have to wrestle her up ten stories when all I want to do is... tear her clothes off?

Fuck. My. Life.

My teeth grind together.

"Mmmm. It's okay, Nick."

Um, yeah, no. It's not okay. Because if this sexy bitch... purrs my name like that again... I'm going to blow a load before I can even fuck her. Jesus.

"Nick." Scarlett cups my cheek, forcing me to hold her gaze as her nails gently scrape down to denim. I let out a breathless sound, a low, raspy groan from deep in my chest. "It's okay."

Yeah, sure. It's okay. It's whatever the fuck she says.

I nod groggily, fighting to keep my eyes from fluttering closed under her merciless attack. Scarlett is all seduction and torture, an expert in blurring those lines, bridging the gap, diminishing separation, uniting them into one... beautifully fucked up experience.

I want her.

"Ah, fuck, Scarlett," I hiss when she dips closer, peppering her lips down my throat in a scorching trail of fierce kisses and stinging teeth. My vision flashes red, and I press a hand to her hip, nudging her to the door, cursing under my breath, fumbling frantically with the keys.

I need to get inside her, or... fuck, no, I need to get her inside.

Yeah.

A blast of cold air hits us as I shove the door open, thrust her into the tiled lobby, and then reach for her chin to wrench her up into a harsh kiss. Goosebumps raise on my arms, and a chill runs down my spine, but silver streaks through the icy sensations, drawing me to the elevator, just in time for the doors to slide open. Her hands press against my shoulders to push me inside, and as my back hits the wall, Scarlett slips both hands down, down, down, sneaking beneath my waistband to wrap warm fucking fingers around my dick.

"Fuck."

Mischief flickers in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's..." Scarlett squeezes teasingly. "Fuck. Yeah, that's good."

"Good," she drawls, cocking her head to the side slightly. An amused smile toys at her lips. "Hm."

Dizzily, I try to nod, but I can't move. It feels surreal, like slow-motion, paralyzed, watching her from above, as the elevator ascends, as she descends, slinking down to her knees, fast fingers popping a button, yanking a zipper, flipping my jeans and briefs down to wrap those red lips around my dick.

My hips buck. "Oh, fuck, that's... that's it..."

Oh, I'd been so wrong. Scarlett isn't from hell; Scarlett is from heaven. Because I swear this bitch brought angels down into this fucking elevator.

Another flash of red flickers across my vision, but I can't screw my eyes shut. I can't fucking move. I can only stare into those dark, silent eyes, those fucking devilishly innocent eyes, as Scarlett takes me inch for inch down her damn throat and... sucks my soul from my body.

Literally.

Ping!

And like whiplash, she tears away too quickly, straightening, draping her arms around my neck, grinding her body into mine, capturing my lips in an unexpectedly rough kiss that reminds me of... fireworks... of a moment, just hours ago, when I'd caught her alone on a rooftop in Bushwick.

I laugh, and suddenly, I'm cold. Scarlett pulls back with furrowed brows, flushed cheeks, and smudged lipstick. Yikes. I'd ruined her lipstick twice tonight, but this time, it was... different.

"What?"

"Nothing," I snicker, brushing my thumb across her soft, smooth cheek. Scarlett isn't violent and vicious; Scarlett is soft and smooth. "It's just that... you didn't ask to kiss me."

She blinks. "What?"

"Earlier, I didn't ask to kiss you... but... you didn't ask to kiss me." I level her with a teasing look. "Double standards, right?"

Her eyes darken. "Nick."

There's this edge in her voice that silences me.

Guilt softens her features. "I'm sorry."

I inhale that whisper, that barely there apology, letting her walk her fingers along my jaw tenderly, until I'm dizzy, so fucking dizzy, lost in a million meaningless apologies, whirling down white hallways and whiter hallways and into darkness. It's a flash, from white to black, from heaven to hell; it sends me hurtling into unknown, untouched, untapped chaos. I'm clawing at her clothes in frustration, stripping that jacket from her smooth shoulders, yanking at straps and hems and lace, until I know, even if I can't see, that there's nothing left, and Scarlett is cursing, yanking at my shirt, at my jeans, at my briefs, fumbling to find any trace of skin that sparks when she touches it, until I'm—

—on a bed.

I sink into warm, soft sheets, blinking in the silent darkness. "Scarlett?"

"Nick."

A hazy heat snakes around my head, dizzying me, dizzying me, dizzying me, tendrils of smoky sighs caressing my cheeks. Everything dims, even darker, into an impossible darkness, as a flutter of lazy kisses trail along the length of my cock and up to... my lips. My entire body clenches. "Ah, I..." I can't find words for the erotic sensation, wet lips, salty, colliding with mine, so I deepen the kiss, burning from the base to find that cotton candy fantasy. But suddenly, Scarlett is hard and sharp, teeth and nails and blood. "Fuck, yes..."

It's thighs shimmying over mine, fingers digging into my hips, her pussy grinding against my dick. It's hot and... wet.

Alright. Scarlett wants to ride. Yep.

I should've seen that coming.

I should've known that Scarlett wasn't the slow, sensitive sort of seductress. Nah. I should've known the moment she slapped me that Scarlett was... the deep-throating, deep-dicking dominatrix.

Her hips slammed down on mine.

"Fuck, Scarlett!" I sputter, throwing my head back as slick heat sheathes my dick. RIP. I could've died happy... right there. "Fuck, that's... that is..."

Scarlett lets out a breathless laugh. "Good."

I dig a hand into her hip, but Scarlett swats it away, planting her hand on my chest to roll her hips quicker, quicker, quicker, and I can't touch her. I can't. There's an invisible restraint... a silent threat... that keeps me beneath her, like nothing—just like every other asshole from Bushwick that thinks he owns the city.

Bitches, Levi told me. Bitches always use you, Nick.

"I... I..." I gasp on the words, on the truth, on the only part of tonight that I should've give a fuck about. I don't care if Scarlett is using me. Fuck, I'd let her, if the consolation prize was pussy like this. "Scarlett..."

My eyes flutter closed.

Scarlett rides me. Scarlett rides me into oblivion. I groan with every quick, tight motion that chokes my dick, jerking, letting out a weak, strangled string of curses when she clenches around me.

A wall of exhaustion slams into me, fierce and so fucking heavy that I can't move. My chest heaves up and down, and as she rolls off of me with a lazy hum, dropping beside me in the bed,  Scarlett steals everything. I feel it, something, draining, leaving my body, following her, chasing her, abandoning me in a startling stillness.

For a long, long, long moment, I can only understand those things that were a part of me, her body sinking into the sheets, her silent motions, her... soft breathing. I can hear it like the ocean, waves unfurling between my ears, a distant, dreamlike rhythm that keeps me floating just below the surface, too shallow to drown, too deep to... breathe.

It's dangerously delicate, a memory ensnared in the moment, fingers ghosting across my shoulder, sharp nails digging, digging, digging into my throat... almost lovingly.

Kay, I'd breathed, shaking my head desperately. I can't... I can't...

I can't stay with you.

I can't be with you.

I can't forget, I can't forget, I can't forget.

"Oh Nick," Scarlett murmurs, pressing her lips to the long-forgotten scars on skin, the bruises and marks that had faded weeks, or months, or years ago. "Nick..."

Sleepily, I hum, lolling my head to the side, lost somewhere in between, and in that darkness, even in the darkest darkness, I find that vast, empty, midnight ocean that will always scare me.

My heart slows. My breathing shallows. My head spins.

It's over.

"Forget her, Nick."

"Forget her."

"Forget."

—HEY GUYS. YES, this chapter is in present tense, and yes, it is intentional. I AM SO EXCITED because there are only three chapters left of this story... that may or may not bring Levi back? 👀

I love you all. It's been a really fun experiment, and I hope you're all still with me, despite the strange vibe it's taken... 😅❤️