Recovery by Nicole Dykes (top 5 books to read .txt) 📕

my nails digging in as I pull him into me. Craving him. Unable to get enough. “I’m clean too.”

He didn’t ask, but he should know.

I feel him smile against my neck as he slams into me, my legs sprawled with him between them. I wonder how anyone could tire of this.

But I know I don’t have a choice. I don’t want to live in a big city.

He pulls back, looking down into my eyes. “Where are you?”

“I’m here.”

He shakes his head and pulls out of me, flipping me to my stomach. I instinctively climb onto my hands and knees, moaning when he slides into me, hitting that deep delicious spot. “Oh, God.”

“There you are. Stay with me.”

I arch my back and bask in his touch as one hand holds my hip and the other ventures between my legs, pinching my clit. A strangled, turned-on cry escapes my mouth as he hits me deep.

“I kinda hate how well you already know my body.”

“No, you don’t.” He pinches my clit again as I move against him at his mercy. I feel the orgasm taking hold, and my body writhes with pleasure underneath him.

There’s no time for reprieve as he continues to move inside me while I come down. His hand finds my nipple and pinches, but not enough to hurt.

“Jase . . .” I push back against him as he moves forward, our bodies in sync, and it feels so damn good.

“Yes?”

My body tenses again when his cock hits the sweet spot inside and causes my eyes to pinch shut. “I’m coming again,” I softly whimper as he thrusts forward, his body punishing and rewarding all the same time.

I feel his cock jerk inside as he fills me with his release. Both of us are lost in ecstasy. He pulls out of me and lays down at my side. “Holy fuck.”

I smile, oddly proud as his chest fills with air and then deflates with his rapid breathing. “Yeah.”

He rolls to his side, propping his head up on his hand. “I have somewhere I have to be, but I’ll be back soon.”

I have to ask. “Where are you going?” I give him a pointed, no bullshit look. “For real.”

He stands up and grabs a pair of jeans, tugging them on. “A meeting.”

I sit up, vulnerable and still naked, filled with his cum, “What kind of meeting?”

He grabs a clean shirt from his closet and tugs it on. “NA.”

“Narcotics?” I feel sick. “You’re a fucking addict?”

“No.” He looks completely serious. He could pass a fucking lie detector test right now with how calm he answers me with his lie.

“You just said you’re going to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting.”

He nods. “I am. I go twice a week.” He seems defensive. But if I were lying, I guess I would be too. All addicts are fucking liars.

A sinking feeling settles in my belly. “How could you not tell me that?”

He raises an eyebrow. He’s fucking delusional if he didn’t realize this is a big deal. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to go over every part of my life. You didn’t fucking ask.”

I fold my arms over my chest, infuriated. “I didn’t realize I needed to ask if you were a goddamn junkie. I saw you drinking alcohol. Are you using again? Did you ever stop?”

He looks at his phone, making me want to throttle him. “Look, I have to go. I can’t be late. I’m sorry. We’ll talk later.”

“No. We won’t.” He looks confused and maybe a little hurt, but I don’t care. I’m pissed the hell off.

He studies me and starts toward me, I think to kiss me goodbye, but I move back away from him.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Are you fucking kidding?”

“No.” I stand up, looking for my clothes and haphazardly pull them on. “This was a huge mistake.”

“Mya, what the fuck?”

I hear him, but I'm already out of his room and heading toward mine.

How could he not tell me?

How could I not have known that?

I have no idea what the fuck just happened. I fucked Mya bare, and then she flipped her shit. I mean, maybe I should have grabbed a condom. Maybe it freaked her out, considering we only met a week ago. But I thought we had a connection.

It unnerved me when I saw her staring at my trophies, but once I realized why she was really there, I couldn’t have been happier.

I wanted her so fucking bad.

Thinking about her all fucking day. Her tight pussy was wet and ready for me. So fucking inviting, but afterward . . . Jesus. She looked like she fucking hated me.

All because I didn’t tell her about attending NA meetings?

I did today. A week after meeting her. That’s quicker than I've ever let anyone in. Ever.

“Hey, man,” I say to Spencer as he approaches the old church where they hold meetings. He looks like shit, run down and way too fucking tired for seventeen.

“Hey,” he grunts.

“You okay?”

“No, but I'm here.”

I smile and wrap an arm around his shoulder and walk inside with him. “That’s good.” I’m still pissed and confused about earlier with Mya, but I'm relieved as fuck to see the kid.

I’ve been his sponsor for a year now, since he was sixteen and drove straight into oncoming traffic in his brand-new Mustang. Somehow he only managed to plow into a street sign and not another car, but he still did some fucking damage.

After the fancy rehab his wealthy father sent him to, he wound up in the same meeting as me. I have nothing in common with the kid—well, except reckless behavior, but I mean upbringing—and yet . . . I felt an instant connection with him.

Just like Mya.

Fuck! I need to not think about her right now. Or the way she looked sick to her stomach when I told her where I was going, how she instantly turned cold and looked like she hated me.

“Tell me what’s up,” I keep my voice quiet, leaning into Spence.

“Nothing. Just fucking numb.”

I hate the vacant look on his face. “Nah,