23.

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We get caught up in the emotions of the day. We tangle ourselves into each other. Our hands exploring each other's bodies. We might even get a little bit carried away losing a few layers of clothing. But a sound outside the building startles us. We get frightened back into our clothing and our heaving chest will have to wait for another day.

I drop my head to Bax's chest as my quickened heart race refuses to drop. "Fuck me." I groan.

"I'm not going to respond to that." Bax chuckles at the blatant words I let slip from my mouth.

"I hate it here." I tug on his shirt as I stand up on my tippy toes to place a kiss to his lips.

He pulls away before we get lost into another session that will inevitably get swept away from us again. I groan again feeling completely unsatisfied and honestly, this feeling pent up in my chest is not going away. I went from being half awake to wide awake. There was no sleep in my future.

"You just want a piece of me." Bax teases as he walks toward the exit. I follow him like a puppy dog, not wanting him out of my sight.

"Not a piece." I mumble, arms crossed against my chest.

"Being selfish, I love it."

If I was able to slap the smug expression off his face I would. But he might actually get satisfaction from it. Then the slap would be all for nothing. Everything I do in this situation just falls into his favor. I'm begging for a bit of him and he's reveling in my pain.

"I know you're getting some sort of enjoyment out of this. But I can tell you right now Baxter Radic, this is not enjoyable." I huff behind him. "How are you not miserable?"

"Seems like I don't have as much bent up frustration." He turns quickly and nips my chin with a pinch. "But this is great. Listening you suffer is quite enjoyable."

"Are you getting some sort of pleasure out of this?" The sass on my tongue has enough spice to take out half the ill equipped.

"My girlfriend is begging for me to fu—" I clamp my hands over his mouth before the word falls past his lips, but he still mumbles against my palm. "ck her. Of course I'm getting pleasure out of this."

"Stop." My cheeks tint pink. This was all his fault. He started it. I was perfectly fine, enjoying looking at a surfboard my boyfriend made for my dead brother. A kind gesture. A loving gesture some might even say. And the next thing I know I'm making out with him.

Bax removes my hands from his mouth, "someone's a little flustered."

"Baxter!" I exclaim, running my hands down my face. He knew what he was doing. I don't think he intentionally planned any of this. Or thought things would ever escalate to this tonight. But we both can be impulsive. Sometimes one thing leads to another. Shit happens.

"You are so easy to tease my love." My love. I feel my heart actually drop. The shock of the word hitting like a train colliding with an unmovable force. All the blood rushes to my head. My face is on fire; my pulse is increasing rapidly. He's making me spiral and I know he's not even trying.

Bax shoots a wink in my direction as he hops up on his bike. "Come on damsel in distress."

I shoot draggers back at him, climbing up onto my pegs. "You're never getting anything ever." I mumble under my breath as he takes off in the direction of home.

"You can believe that Missy. But you know that's not true." His voice carries off into the night. Neither of us say another word. And it's not because we don't want to talk. We definitely would fill this silence with words if everything didn't end up back to where this all started.

He pulls up in front of my house and drops his bike to the ground. "See you in a few hours?" He asks, grabbing my hands in his.

"Unfortunately, I will endure the pain you've forced upon me." I roll my eyes playfully.

"The one between your legs or the staying up too late one?"

I whack his arm for bring up the issues I'm clearly dealing with. "I hate you."

"You don't." His smile shines in the moonlight. Gosh, just smile is beautiful. Everything about him is beautiful. I swear I could stare at him forever. Mapping out every fine detail laid upon his skin.

I snap back from my daze. "Goodnight Loser." I mess up his hair and take off toward the house in hopes I escape him quick enough.

I don't. You'd think I'd learn at this point, that running is still not my thing. A creature of habit I guess. "Goodnight Maybelle." He kisses the back of my neck, another clear ploy to get me riled up again before he takes off.

I shoo him off trying not to feed into his game. But I inevitably melt the moment I walk in the front door. I nearly slide down it, suffering a pool of my own self. Instead though, I stumble into my room and drop onto my bed.

I glance at the time on my clock at groan at how miserably late it is. At this point there isn't any reason to fall asleep. But my body desperately needs it. I am the actual reincarnate of the devil when I haven't gotten a lick of sleep. That was never going to be an option as long as Bax was around. He didn't need to see my devil horns.

I set an alarm and curl up on my bed, but spend the next two hours tossing and turning. But it's not for what you expect. The sexual frustration Bax left me to deal with on my own has vanished. But only to be replaced with the thought of a nightmare creeping in. I feel it inbounding. It's lingering in the back of my mind, and I fear closing my eyes will just ruin me.

Eventually though, the tiredness takes over. My brain clicks off and my mind goes numb. I sleep for a measly hour, possibly two. The worry of a nightmare doesn't creep in. I assume because I haven't been asleep long. I'm fine with it though when I wake. I'd rather wake up tired, then deal with the exhausting screams that strike fear into everyone I know.

I throw on a hoodie that's tossed on my floor—it's definitely Bax's—and drag my feet down to the beach. Bax is waiting, bags under his eyes, his wetsuit hanging at his waist. "You sleepy girl."

I yawn and drop to the sand without acknowledging his words, or the body on display for me to enjoy.

He bends over and places a kiss to the top of my head before running out into the water. I curl up on the sand and watch him for a few minutes before my eyes seemingly drift closed, not opening again until his voice pulls me out of my slumber.

𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭  ||  baxter radicWhere stories live. Discover now