SICK HEART by Huss, JA (non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

Because she got it right. The sign is ‘talk,’ but if your other hand is cupped on the side of your mouth, it means ‘whisper.’ Like you’re gonna whisper in someone’s ear.

Did she just… I squint at her and she frowns in response. Has she taught herself sign language?

That’s not possible. Not this fast. It hasn’t even been a week.

Then whisper to me, I sign.

She shakes her head again. And then she touches my lips with the edge of her fingertips and slowly drags them up my cheek before pulling away.

‘Kiss.’ That was the sign for ‘kiss.’

She wants me to kiss her.

I know this is a distraction. I know who I’m dealing with. A girl who has been silent so long, no one remembers her last spoken words. A girl who should be dead, but isn’t. A girl who should be anywhere but here with me, but is. A girl who four days ago didn’t know a single bit of sign language, and now knows enough to stun me silent.

So I should really know better.

I should push her. Keep going. Because I could make her talk. I know I could.

But then she leans towards me. And we’re not that far apart, so that kiss she just asked for is now an absolute guarantee.

Our lips touch and just… linger there for a breath.

And so many things go through my mind in that breath. I want to resist her offer. Push her down, roll over, and forget where I’m at and who I’m with.

But that’s just fucking stupid. I like this girl. A lot.

I want to kiss her.

And all those other thoughts earlier about not wanting sex… well. This seems like more than sex. So that’s something I am interested in.

When our lips touch everything that happens next—whether it’s today, tomorrow, or next year—everything that happens next is preordained. And there’s no way to stop it.

I cup my hands around her face, my thumbs caressing small circles on her cheeks as her mouth opens and her tongue touches mine.

There is maybe one more moment. One more chance to stop the car crash that’s coming, but it’s such a small moment, so short and tiny, it barely exists.

And what comes next is pure lust.

I open my mouth, kiss her hard. Bite her lip, grab her breasts as I drop my full weight over her.

She kisses me back. But her kiss isn’t urgent, like mine. It’s soft. And even though we’re stained with salt water, and sweat, and the wind, she tastes so sweet, I want this kiss to last forever.

Her fingernails dig into the muscles of my back and I hiss a little. Because she’s not being gentle. The time for gentleness is over now and all that’s left is sex.

She knows it as well as I do. Because she helps me get her shorts off. She’s the one who takes off her shirt as I watch, my eyes drawn to her tight nipples and perfectly shaped breasts. The fading bruises on her skin left over from the fight just add to my desire.

This girl saved my life. And that’s so fucking hot, I flip her over so she’s on top of me, ready to show her how grateful I am.

She smiles and her eyes dance with mischief, or playfulness, or maybe just power. Her wild, tangled hair falls forward to brush against my chest as I pull her face down to mine and claim her mouth.

She’s naked, but I’m not. Her fingertips are tugging on my shorts as we kiss, our tongues dancing as they twist together as she pulls my shorts over my hips. Her hand is between my legs, grabbing for my cock. It’s hard and thick. And when she squeezes me and begins slowly pumping her hand up and down my shaft, I have to hit pause on this moment and close my eyes so it can’t slip by without me noticing.

Anya’s lips on my cheek make me open them again. She’s leaning over me, her full, round breasts pressing against my chest. Her ass is up in the air a little, and I smack it, and grab it, and smack it again. Hard. I want to leave marks on this girl.

I want to leave my mark on this girl.

She must be a mind reader. Because her mouth dips down to my neck and she bites me. She doesn’t nip me. No, she fucking bites me. Hard enough to make me hiss. Then she is kissing her way down my chest, her hand still on my cock, still working it, her thumb caressing small circles over the tip on the upstroke.

I sigh a little, so fucking grateful I brought her here. She was worth the fight. Worth the price, too.

Because I don’t just like her, I want her.

Her lips reach my stomach and she licks my abs, dragging her tongue across the taut muscles. I put my hands on her head, ready to push her face down to my dick and put it in her mouth, but she pulls back a little, just enough to look up at me, and says, “Shhhhhhhhh,” with that pouty fucking mouth of hers.

This is enough to calm me down. At least for a moment. Because shushing me is sound. And I want to hear all the sounds from this girl right now.

She scoots down a little more and I know it’s coming, so I twist her hair around my fingers and promise to let her take her time.

It pays off. Because she knows exactly what to do with my fat cock.

She doesn’t put it inside her mouth. Not at first. She teases the fuck out of me. Her tongue dances around the tip of my dick, her hand still squeezing, her thumb still massaging the head. And I give in.

Fuck it. I give in.

I just close my eyes and picture it all in my head as she licks me. Up and