Losers Harley Laroux Quotes

I wanted to ride this man like a goddamn rollercoaster and then take his friends for a spin too.

Do you remember what I used to tell you?” Manson said. “When we were teenagers and we’d drive out here to talk about shit…you’d tell me you didn’t want to see another day…” I remembered that, of course I did. I remembered the despair I felt, the pain we shared, how hopeless I’d been. “If you can get through the night, you’ll see the sun again,” I said, repeating the words he’d told me back then. “Keep chasing the next sunrise.” I closed my eyes as I exhaled. “The night feels really fucking dark, Manson, but I’m still chasing sunrises.

Manson would wait for you in the dark and you’d never see him coming; while Lucas would come in broad daylight, smash your windows out, and set your house on fire.

This doesn’t depend on you saying anything. I love you. I’ve loved you. For so long. And I’ll love you, even if you don’t love me back. I’ll love you even if this is the last day I ever see you.

Because you were my glimpse of heaven from hell,” he said. “You were the sun in my sky, and now you’re like a comet sent to earth. A wildfire I can touch…kiss…hold…

Carefully, with the sharpness of the knife tucked within the curved grip of his hand, he began to probe my entrance with the handle. It was hard, but warm from his hand. The edges were rounded, smooth as it rubbed over my wet, swollen flesh. "You're going to get off on this knife, Jess," he said. "And I'm going to hold you open, nice and still, so you don't get hurt.

The darkness that surrounded us could have stretched on forever, a void in which everything I'd thought I knew had been turned on its head. We were in some other world, a world where pleasure and pain, fear and excitement, were all the same.

Absolutely. I love all those bastards, obviously, but love is a little different with every person you share it with. Sometimes it’s passionate and romantic, or deep and platonic, or any combination in between. A lot of people don’t understand it, but I don’t need anyone’s understanding. I accepted that a long time ago

Every time we parted, I felt as if I was breaking the surface of a pool: I gasped for air, vision blurred, my body light.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

The night feels really fucking dark, but I'm still chasing sunrises.

Most people didn’t consider being duct-taped and locked in a trunk to be a great start to their weekend. I wasn’t most people, though.

If a guy couldn’t play with my masochism as enthusiastically as he played with my pleasure, then I didn’t want it. There simply wasn’t a nice way to tell your mother that you wanted a guy who could spank you as well as he could fuck. A man who was as comfortable with whips and chains as he was at candlelit dinners. Someone who wasn’t afraid to take control but wasn’t going to make the relationship feel like a cage. Laroux, Harley. Losers: Part I (p. 34). Kindle Edition.

Kids?” he said. He sounded both terrified and hopeful at the same time. “Yeah, you know, little miniature versions of you…Manson…Jason…Vincent…

There was probably a psychology student out there who could write their entire thesis studying my horny brain.

That fucking freak… that loser… that absolute weirdo... had given me the best orgasms of my life.

His kiss was tender, the crown jewel on his sadism. How could a man be so carefully cruel, and so brutally gentle?

My whole world was that dark room, those three laughing clowns, the taste of their sex in my mouth... and Manson, watching over it all like a demonic god.

Damn, Jess. You ran with the wrong crowd in high school, you know that? You would’ve fit right in with the freaks.

It didn’t make much sense to me why consensual sex could be considered more taboo than murder. But maybe that was why I didn’t get along very well in “normal” society.

That’s why the ladies call me Daddy Longlegs,

I wanted to make her mine from the inside-out. Shatter her to pieces before I put her back together.

You're going to get off on this knife, Jess," he said. "And I'm going to hold you open, nice and still, so you don't get hurt.

Maybe staying alive for the sake of other people wasn’t healthy, but it was better than the alternative. I found whatever I could to keep me going, no matter how small.

He drank the damn cup rather than give my thong back, and my mouth dropped open.

Your cunt is cuter when your ass is red; funny how that works.

He owned a paddle; he literally owned instruments to inflict pain and humiliation. He was such a freak.

Now I have to make you cry, Jessica.

Vincent was the only one who remained now to be pleased, and slowly, he withdrew his fingers from me and brought them to my lips.

Be a good girl for Daddy Manson, Jess,” he said, a tease in his voice.

We need our privacy now, boys,” he said. “Leave us.

Crawl.

Then, his voice softly said, "Was that...was that good for you?

He spit the beer into my mouth, all of it, not spilling a drop.

Enjoying your punishment so much it’s making you wet. So cute.

If I cross a line you better damn well use it. Do you understand?

Manson’s voice rumbled eagerly from behind me, deepening with excitement, “And if you want to fuck one of us, you fuck all of us.

I never even tried to hurt them, Jess. I don’t like to hurt people... not... not like that.

Normal people didn’t do that. Maybe normal people were boring.

You need someone to punish you properly, fuck you good, and care about you enough not to let you hang out with friends who will stab you in the back the first chance they get.

Girl, we broke into your house, shoved ice up your ass, and fucked you over your mother’s kitchen table. Eat some goddamn cookies.

Her smile was like the clouds parting in the middle of a thunderstorm. Sunshine and destruction all wrapped into one. A storm I’d chase to the ends of the earth.

They sat in their churches and shouted “Amen!” to love and forgiveness, before they turned around and used every avenue they could to make those they didn’t approve of pay for merely existing.

Manson Reed - weirdo, freakshow Manson Reed. He made me feel safe and terrified, protected and brutalized, all at once. But it wasn’t only that.  In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to get in his pants.

I felt like I was being left behind. He was able to do what I couldn’t, and although he kept trying to drag me along with him, I still lived with the fear that eventually he’d fix himself and I’d still be broken.

I think we’re all hypocrites, in one way or another. As we grow up and figure out who we are, sometimes our thoughts change before our behavior does. It’s not pretty, and it can be fucked up, but we’re not perfect.

I whimpered as I obeyed. Lucas leaned close, and spat Manson’s cum into my mouth. It dripped down my chin, too much for me to take. It was disgusting — God, it was so hot. It was truly repulsive — it made me shiver with ecstasy.

How’s it feel to be a loser?” he said softly, as I came to his side, arms folded, refusing to meet his eyes. His words dug into me, that condescending tone sliding slimily over my skin. He’d gotten to me. He’d actually gotten to me. And the worst part was... I’d enjoyed it.

I love you. Fuck, I…” My hand was visibly shaking as I held it against her head. “I love you so much, Jess, I feel like I’m losing my mind. But I’m happy, I’m…” My words were getting tangled up. Shit, she’d fucked up my head, but I loved it. “I’m so happy. You make me so happy.

When I said I can’t ever let you go,” Manson said. “I meant it.” He kissed the top of my head, and suddenly I was blinking back tears. Being collared was sexy and unbearably erotic, but it was so much more than that, too. It was a comfort, a reassurance, a promise. It was a sign to everyone who saw it that I was protected and cared for.

Our kiss had faded into the background of my memories, as had all our tense interactions, all my cruel words and haughty looks. I'd buried them, packed them away as if they could be forgotten if they sat long enough in the dark. But there was no forgetting. His presence here was a light in the dark laying bere everything I'd tried to erase.

You can’t be a normal bartender and just get beer and a shot?” she said. “Mezcal on the rocks, maybe? Where’s your bar-hardened disdain for sugar, Vince?” “Excuse me for liking things that actually taste good,” I said, poking my toothpick-speared strawberry garnish at her. “I haven’t managed to develop a taste yet for the liquid form of a burned tire.

As if any of you could claim to be better than me.” “Oh, no, no, not better,” Jason said. “We’re degenerates, Jess.” “Losers,” said Lucas. Manson smiled. “Freaks.” “But now that we’ve caught you, we don’t ever have to let you go,” Jason said, his lips brushing my neck as he spoke, just behind my ear. “We’re going to keep you. Break you. Remake you into the perfect little fucktoy.

Because you were my glimpse of heaven from hell,” he said. “You were the sun in my sky, and now you’re like a comet sent to earth. A wildfire I can touch…kiss…hold…” He kissed my cheek until I giggled, nuzzling his face against mine. “You’re strong. You’re brave. You’re so damn beautiful. You’ve shaken us up, Jess. All of us.” I could hear the smile in his words. “I just can’t keep my damn mouth shut, so…there it is.

Sounds like compersion,” he said. “It’s when you feel happy for someone else’s happiness. Like when Vincent flirts with you, I know he’s enjoying himself and enjoying your company. So it makes me happy.” “I had no idea there was a word for that,” I said. “It’s like the opposite of jealousy.” “Yeah, it’s like that. Finding joy in other people’s joy. That’s part of why the four of us get along so well. We really want to see each other happy.

I should probably quit,” he said. The words made a pang shoot through my chest like a bolt. He was right, we both needed to quit. But sometimes, when I saw him getting better, when I saw how hard he was trying to be a better man, I felt like I was being left behind. He was able to do what I couldn’t, and although he kept trying to drag me along with him, I still lived with the fear that eventually, he’d fix himself and I’d still be broken.

He was intoxicating, a flawed god I couldn’t resist worshiping. His imperfection made him sacred, his strength made him holy. But the lust he inspired in me made him wicked, and the ease with which he bent me to his will was the closest thing to divinity I could imagine.

I already knew. I knew, because he’d shown me. But when he whispered those words in my ear, it stopped my world entirely. “I love you.

If you leave and spend your life with someone else, I’ll love you still. I want you to be happy, Jess, no matter who it’s with. And I’ll love you through all of it. Always. Forever.

Love. He loved me. Manson Reed loved me.

I love every inch of you,” I said, growling it against her skin. “Inside and out, baby. I could spend years telling you all the ways I love you, all the little things you do that drive me fucking wild. So I think I will. I think I’d like to spend a very long time showing you how much I adore you.

I love you too.” What fucking terrifying words. But they didn’t kill me to say, the world didn’t implode. So I said them again, to be sure. “I love you so much, Jess.” God, my stomach was in knots. “I fucking love you.” The more I said it, it was like I couldn’t stop. The words felt like weights dropping out of my mouth, making me lighter every time. “I love you so much that I can’t let you go.

We’d fought for our love. Fought with ourselves, with each other, with those who wanted our love to not even exist. But this was our victory. This was our forever.

Never?” she said, and it took me a moment to realize what she was asking. But when I answered, I really fucking meant it. “Never.

You wanted a dance with the devil, Jess. Well, now you have four.

To the losers, the freaks, and the outcasts. Keep chasing sunrises.

God, I’d even let the word “Master” roll off my tongue as I’d said my goodbyes to Manson.

I’d wasted all my time getting an education when I should have been pursuing my true calling of becoming a trophy wife and grandbaby-producer as quickly as possible.

He’d put his hand around my throat and squeezed when he kissed me,

The losers decided to show up.

Manson had broken the shell, the picture-perfect Jessica Martin I’d built for the world to fawn over. The Jess that remained was too exhausted to know who she was now.

I wanted to feel it again, feel it harder. I wanted to rip open his viciousness and take it all in. I wanted to ride this man like a goddamn rollercoaster and then take his friends for a spin too. But a girl like me wasn’t supposed to be with guys like them.

I didn’t know what the hell I wanted anymore. Except the big plate of biscuits and gravy in front of me. I wanted that in my stomach immediately.

There was nothing there but lust, and what had happened at the party was a result of that. Never mind that I’d never felt so free, so wildly alive as I had last night. Entrusting myself to those boys in the pursuit of pleasure had awakened a part of me I never knew existed.

You smell like weed,” he growled, mouth against me. “And dick.” “Two of my favorite things,

The only reason I could think of, the one that kept running through my brain again and again, was that she was falling for us as much as we were for her. Not even in a sexual way. The lust was already there; we’d all acknowledged that a long time ago. It wasn’t about that. This was different. It was like she was falling for us, for who we were and what we brought to her life.

I wanted to blow her mind. I wanted to show her what life with us could be like, if she wanted it.

I had to figure out who I was without all the bullshit, without the mask and haughty attitude.

God, it was so hard to put this into words. It was embarrassing, yes, but also the concept was still so new. Why did being controlled and overcome make me feel like everything was okay?

I lay there silently on his lap, thoroughly fucked and filthy. I couldn’t think of a better way to start the weekend.

At home, we had our separate spaces, but whenever we were all away, we usually slept together. It was comforting, easing unspoken anxieties and silent fears. Like surrounding ourselves with the feeling of home. Because really, our home wasn’t a house. It was each other.

You killed my pussy and then raised it from the dead.

She’d endured flogging, fucking, and being tied up in a trunk. Now she deserved to feel like the princess she was.

You killed my pussy and then raised it from the dead.” “Mm, zombie pussy,” I said, and she snorted with laughter.

How do you feel?” “Like I’ve been kidnapped and ravaged by four wicked villains,” she said. “In other words, I feel fantastic.

When I’d transferred to Wickeston High, Jess and Vincent had been my first true temptations to sin. A seductress and a jester, challenging my carefully guarded thoughts.

I couldn’t live as anything less than fully myself,

Now, the curtain was drawn and the costumes were gone. Jessica was just Jess, a woman trying to figure out who the hell she was like the rest of us.

Fuck me like you hate me, Manson. Make it hurt.

That pussy absolutely needs its own security detail. But I can’t follow you around twenty-four-seven, so…

It felt like such a silly thing to admit that a little cut on my finger made me feel so much. If I’d tried to tell that to anyone else in my life, they would have laughed or been disgusted, horrified, maybe even concerned.

As we grow up and figure out who we are, sometimes our thoughts change before our behavior does. It’s not pretty, and it can be fucked up, but we’re not perfect. We’ve all done it.

Finding myself bent over his lap in the middle of a party had been one of the most defining moments of my life, bizarre as that was.

God, the fact that this turned me on as much as it shamed me was so confusing. There was probably a psychology student out there who could write their entire thesis studying my horny brain.

That was what kept drawing me back in, that was what had intrigued all of us. Jessica went through life wearing a mask, but beyond that mask was a wild, twisted woman, aching for a way out.

Bringing the woman I wanted into the family we’d built, intermeshing our lives and growing a relationship together, felt natural to me. But to most people, it didn’t. Society wanted things to be labeled, to fit into neat and tidy boxes. Sex was meant to be exclusive, romantic, and flawless. Friends were only friends and never lovers, nothing could grow or change. Who you used to be could never be separated from who you’d become.

Reject the boxes you’re offered and people will keep trying to shove you into them. They’ll put their labels on you and demand you adhere to them, and then if you don’t, it becomes your own damn fault that life is difficult.

I couldn’t blame her for ghosting, or for letting down her guard with me for one night and then retreating the moment the sun rose. Boxes were safe and easy. Leave the shelter of the box and the world becomes significantly less friendly.

It’s about submitting. No more running, no more teasing, no more bullshit. You give us what we want, we give you what you need. You’re ours until your debt is paid, simple as that.

In the meantime, you’ll be paying off your debt.” “By doing what exactly?” I said. “Being your on-call Fleshlight?

I’ll pay my debt. I’ll play the game. Until the car is fixed, I’m yours.

What did we used to tell you, Jess? You fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us.

You deserve to be loved, Lucas,” she said. She was close, and her voice was low, holding me like she was protecting me. “You deserve to be happy. You deserve to heal.

I love you so much, Jess.” God, my stomach was in knots. “I fucking love you.” The more I said it, it was like I couldn’t stop. The words felt like weights dropping out of my mouth, making me lighter every time. “I love you so much that I can’t let you go.

Was I broken? Sexuality was nothing to be ashamed of, but it was hard to reconcile that when the friends and family I was surrounded by told me otherwise.

Destroy me. Ruin me. Force me into the corruption I craved.

I’d ghosted them, and yet I was the one who felt haunted.

Yeah, Jess.” Jason meandered closer beside me, sipping his beer. “Can’t even give an inch when Manson gave you eight?

I already couldn’t look at him without my brain becoming a giant marquee that flashed: Pierced Dick, One Night Only, Get Your Fill of Some Prime Pierced Dick!

I needed all of them to get away from me before I fell down into another orgy rabbit hole.

I guess trouble didn’t scare them. Manson had told me as much, hadn’t he? If there’s no risk, where’s the fun?

I didn’t let anyone but the boys sit in this car, but fuck, I could make an exception. Jess could sit her ass on my goddamn face if she wanted.

I’d let Manson fuck me with the knife he’d threatened my ex with. I’d let them cuff my hands and fuck my face, one after the other. I’d crawled, cried, endured, and come out on the other side feeling awakened.

Sticks and stones, man. I wasn’t built for it anyway; I was just a skinny stoner with a fried egg for a brain.

You’re fucking perfect, angel. So perfect you’ll make me lose my goddamn mind.

I still have the video.” I knew exactly what video she was talking about: me on my knees at Manson’s feet, during the drink or dare game we’d played almost three years ago. I’d kissed his boots in front of everyone. I’d soaked in the humiliation like the first hit of a drug and I hadn’t been able to shake my addiction to it since.

I’m not good at letting go of things I want, and you…I have wanted you for so goddamn long.

I don’t hate you either, Lucas,” she said. “Even when you irritate me, or glare at me, or cheat at games…

You’ve earned the honor of being Lady Fucktoy.” Jason snickered. “It’s a very elevated position.

Gentlemen — and Lady Fucktoy — I propose a toast. To whatever poor bastards have to try to repair Alex’s Hellcat.

Soon enough, I was the last one left awake. But part of me felt like it was worth staying awake just to see all of us so close. After everything that had happened over these past few weeks, it was nice to feel at peace.

He’d been so damn determined to claim his life, to live as he wanted, that it had kept me going too.

But I felt hopeful, for the first time in a long time. Maybe good things weren’t meant for me, but I’d fight fate and God to have them anyway.

That was what I’d always wanted for myself and my boys — safety, peace, somewhere we could exist without constant judgment, without fear.

His imperfection made him sacred, his strength made him holy. But the lust he inspired in me made him wicked, and the ease with which he bent me to his will was the closest thing to divinity I could imagine.

The pain didn’t scare me; in fact, I savored it. It made me feel human. Flesh and blood, mind and soul finally connected into one complete being.

Oh, fuck yeah. Snatch up our pretty little toy and take her away all for ourselves? Sounds exactly like the vacation I need.

She wanted something we could give her. An escape, an outlet for her darkness, a safe place she could fulfill all her filthy desires. I wanted to give her that. I wanted to show her that regardless of her fears, she could have everything she wanted and more. I needed it to be different this time. I’d break every damn rule necessary to win, to claim a prize that had been dangling in front of our faces for years. This was our game, and I didn’t care what it took to make her ours in the end.

It fascinated me how she could do that, transforming her face like an artist. Although, I loved her bare skin the most.

She’d tried to cover the hickeys on her neck and had done a damn good job. But up close, I could still see the marks through the makeup. Our marks. Our girl. Ours.

I own this ass. I own your pussy, your clit, this entire gorgeous body, every goddamn inch of you…is mine. It’s Lucas’s. It’s Jason’s. It’s Vincent’s.

Damn it, Manson.” Her voice shuddered. “Sometimes I think you’re the devil himself, with the way you make me feel.

I loved to share, but only with the right people. I wanted to watch my girl get fucked hard, used as messily as she could be, but I wanted to know that whoever was doing it truly appreciated it. I wanted them to do it right, to satisfy her in the way she needed to be satisfied. Anything less than that was unacceptable.

I’d told her I wouldn’t go if it meant leaving them. Lucas, Jason, Vincent…I couldn’t leave them. We stuck together, always. I could give up everything else but not them. And not… Her.

She couldn’t have been more my opposite with her pink acrylic nails and sparkling makeup. Like a ray of fiery sunshine that could either warm you comfortably, or burn you to a crisp.

Her heat was too much for me; I’d flown too close to the sun and caught fire.

Her heat was too much for me; I’d flown too close to the sun and caught fire. But if you try to force a plant to grow in a dark room, it will reach for the sun. Even helpless and rooted, with no hope of ever touching the warmth, it will reach because it has to.

She smelled like sweet strawberries and cream. I was supposed to control myself, but the more something was forbidden, the more I wanted it. Candy tasted sweeter when you stole it.

It’s vodka and soda.” I winced, but free liquor was free liquor. It tasted like carbonated rubbing alcohol with a squeeze of lime, and it burned immediately going down.

When I was with her, I felt I’d chosen to do something risky, like climbing to the top of the highest diving board despite barely being able to swim. Just talking to her was a rush, touching her was intoxicating.

After sitting there in silence for several minutes, sheathed inside her as she clung tightly to my shirt, I kissed her forehead and said softly, “You’re perfect, angel. You’re absolutely perfect.

She’d heard loud cars before, but she hadn’t heard Dante’s Inferno.

None of my desires shocked me anymore. I liked extreme pleasure, I liked pain, I liked every new and unusual sensation between.

You bleed for me, you come for me, you live and die for me. Understand?

You’re like heaven,” he whispered, and I didn’t know if he meant me, or Manson, or if it even mattered who he meant. He was right. This was the only heaven I wanted.

Manson wrapped the leash’s length around his hand and said harshly, “Take it like a fucking man. Fuck her like you mean it.

I’m good,” he said, holding up a neon green and black energy drink can. “Ah, I see, you prefer to fuel yourself with straight battery acid.

But I couldn’t always cater my life to my mother.

Sounds like compersion,” he said. “It’s when you feel happy for someone else’s happiness. Like when Vincent flirts with you, I know he’s enjoying himself and enjoying your company. So it makes me happy.” “I had no idea there was a word for that,” I said. “It’s like the opposite of jealousy.

I don’t care if you’re wet,” I said. “I don’t care if you’re dirty or clean, or what you’re wearing or not wearing. You’re fucking beautiful and I can’t keep my hands off you.

Sit on my face, princess. Let me moan into that sweet pussy while he fucks me.

My body felt both light and heavy, as if I was floating but swaddled in a weighted blanket.

Can you breathe, Jason?” I said, giggling softly as he hummed in the affirmative. “If I die, I die,” he said, before his mouth was on me again.

It was still new…this concept of love and intimacy being so free-flowing. But I liked it; I felt like it fit me far better than how I’d been trying to make relationships work before.

Not that this was a relationship…exactly… God, who was I kidding? This whole thing may have started with my foolish mistake and the debt I incurred because of it, but I couldn’t deny there was something here. Lust, crush fulfillment, more longing and attraction than I knew how to handle. We weren’t dating, per se, but I couldn’t keep denying we were damn close to it.

There’s a lot more to love than most people think,” Jason said. “I used to think I was supposed to settle down with one woman, not have sex until my wedding night, and be loyal to my one and only forever. One person was supposed to fulfill everything for me, and I was supposed to do the same for them. I didn’t fit into that mold, though.” He twined his fingers through mine and brought my hand to his mouth so he could kiss it. “It’s impossible to compare the way I love Vincent to the way I love Manson, or the way I love Manson to the way I love Lucas. Intimacy can involve a lot of sex or a little sex, or none at all. Love is the same way — there’s no specific mold it has to fit. We’ve found what fulfills us.

It’s no trouble.” Lies. “I don’t mind doing it at all.” This morning was hell. “It feels good to switch up my routine.” Nope, it felt awful.

Beneath that perfect exterior lurked a masochistic little creature longing for someone to take control. It was a side of her I could actually understand, something I could relate to. Something I could play with.

Those men were extremely dangerous, but not in the way she thought. They were a danger to my pride, my reputation, and my panties.

I had to Google the definition of “katoptronophilia,” only to realize it meant getting turned on by having sex in front of a mirror.

If this list ever gets in front of anyone else’s eyes besides you four, I WILL KILL YOU.

This wasn’t the type of speed that would slowly ease me up to an orgasm. It would rip my orgasm out of me and beat me with it.

Good girls didn’t get railed on the kitchen floor while they screamed how much they hated the men fucking them, but there I was.

I wouldn’t survive it; of that much, I was certain. Death via destroyed pussy was impending.

Both of you? At the same time?” I looked at Manson as I said it, wide-eyed, imagining the girth of their cocks side by side. I wouldn’t survive it; of that much, I was certain. Death via destroyed pussy was impending.

Their seed dripped over my cheeks, my lips, my chin. Marking me, claiming me. Reinforcing what I already knew — they owned me.

Frozen Thin Mints and coffee were basically my breakfast of champions for a while.

I used to try to make everyone I met into a friend, regardless of who they were or how they’d treated me. I’d convinced myself that enough kindness could turn anything around, but not everyone was — or deserved to be — a friend. Learning that lesson hadn’t been easy, but painfully necessary.

You’re no distressed damsel. You’re a very dangerous queen bee.

You’re really tall,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. “That’s why the ladies call me Daddy Longlegs,

Sorry, sorry, I…” I licked my lips, uncertain of what to say. “Why are you…I mean…okay, fuck it, I’ll just say. Why are you here?” “To serve you,” she said, with a teasing sigh. “Lucas and Manson said they owed you, so apparently, I’m your interactive thank you present.

If Jess wasn’t reduced to a trembling, empty-headed, orgasm-drunk puddle by the end of this, then I hadn’t done my job.

There was something beautiful in trusting them so damn much that we could share this. Our lives were twined for better or worse, and despite all the bullshit, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m here because I want to be,” she said, leaning her forehead against mine. “Because I chose to be. And I really don’t know what the hell is going to happen or how any of this will work out in the end. But the only things I’m scared of are the same things you make me forget.

It had taken me a long time to realize that “home,” to most people, represented a place of comfort and safety. Home was a place people wanted to return to, not one they dreaded or feared. I’d had to build my own home, my own family. I’d crafted it in the only way I knew how; it was messy and strange, but it was mine and no one could take it away from me.

Vera and Stephan had made their house a shelter for not only their own kids, but any child who’d needed them.

Sometimes, it’s a temporary change — someone comes into your life for a time and tweaks things a bit before they move on. But sometimes, it’s permanent. Things in your life shift around just right and they fit in like the spot’s been waiting for ‘em.

The right person will change you for the better,” he said. “Sometimes, it’s a temporary change — someone comes into your life for a time and tweaks things a bit before they move on. But sometimes, it’s permanent. Things in your life shift around just right and they fit in like the spot’s been waiting for ‘em.

This wasn’t only a game, regardless of whatever silly rules we made or excuses we came up with. Jess had given me something to strive for, but it was more than that.

I love you.” It was all I could say and it still wasn’t enough. But if I could keep saying it — if I could say those words from now until the end of forever — God, maybe then, those words could take on the fierceness I meant them with.

Maybe my own family couldn’t offer me the advice I needed, but I’d come to realize that “family” was far more than merely being related by blood.

There wasn’t a single material thing in the world that could come close to being good enough for her. She deserved so much more than that.

Every moment I have with you feels stolen,” he said. “Like God, or Satan, or whatever the fuck is out there is playing another trick on me. I don’t know if you’re ready to hear this yet. You probably aren’t, but I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t tell you. If you walk out of my life again…when the car is finished and the debt doesn’t matter anymore…if you choose to leave, I want you to know.

I love your mind; how clever you are. I love that you’re passionate. And you’re strong. You’ve changed your own deeply held convictions, and that’s not easy to do. You’re loyal. Tenacious. A force to be reckoned with. You surprise me every day.

What had happened to me? How had I become so completely lost in this, in them? But I didn’t feel lost — I felt like I’d found something instead. Like I was picking up little pieces of myself along the way, assembling the version of me I was meant to be.

Thanks, Vincent. I’m still getting used to how this all works.” He shrugged. “I am too. We’ll probably be figuring it out our whole lives, but that’s okay. We’ve got a lot going on in that lump of gray flesh up there.” He tapped the side of his head. “Well, most people do. Sometimes, mine is stuck playing elevator music for hours on end.

You’re confused. You’re rebelling. This is a stage you’ll outgrow. You’re a fucked-up disappointment. Pussy. Fucking freak. After a while, they all sounded the same. People disguising bigotry and judgment as concern.

God, I could destroy her. I wanted to. I needed to. I didn’t just crave her perfection, her unattainable beauty. I wanted her filth. I wanted the messy, disgusting, fucked up parts of her. I wanted to rip her open, pick her apart, find the things that made her tick.

Then I met Vincent, Manson, and Lucas. We were all a bunch of outcasts, but together, we were stronger, accepted by one another. It made me bolder to fight back, to branch out, to explore. It made me fall in love, too, with this goofy clown of a guy who talked about concepts like free love and sexual acceptance. He gave me words to describe how I felt; he didn’t lose his shit when I told him I was so damn confused because I liked girls, but shit, guys could get it too. Vincent Volkov turned my world on its head.

Ah-yoooo, wake up, ya’ fuckin’ hippies!

Damn, look at you,” I said. “I love that just-fucked look on your face. So sexy.” I leaned down so I could close my mouth over her breast, sucking her nipple between my teeth until she gasped.

She tipped her head back to look at him and her expression could have melted the glaciers. I loved that shit. I wanted to see my people happy. I wanted them to thrive. The world was a goddamn mess but as long as we were together, we could handle whatever life threw at us.

A day out in the woods wasn’t proper unless you looked like a wild creature when it ended.

It was relaxing to finally be getting fucked right; that was for sure. No one else I’d been with had ever satisfied me like these men did. It was more than merely their casual dominance, their filthy words. They made my life exciting.

Why did the pain make me feel so alive? It was the same kind of thrill I’d felt strapped into the passenger seat as he sped down the road, skirting the edge of danger.

It was strange to be waiting for one man to pick me up, with the intention of delivering me to his boyfriend for sexual favors, on the behalf of his other friends who were also fucking me... If I hadn’t been a slut before, I sure as hell was now.

I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes. I liked this sight too much — this beautiful woman laid out beside me and all the people I loved most around me.

I’d thought finally having sex with Jessica would leave me bitterly vindicated, but I felt no bitterness at all. I felt like I’d finally sucked in a breath after holding it for far too long, like all the tension had gone out of me.

I guess I have a kink for cat maids now. Thanks for that, Jason.

I feel like this is surreal. Like Vincent and I saw you at that car wash and fell into some kind of fever dream.