Never Been Loved (5 page)

“You need someone to help you, Hunter. Or else this little boy here is going to suffer.”

I jerk like I’ve been electrocuted and give her the requisite smile. We both know it’s just another way to say
fuck off
. “Sure. I’ll get some help.”

On what fucking salary?

I repress the sigh, and refuse to put my face in my hands and cover my eyes with darkness. I move instead to heft Matty back up in my arms, and move out of the examination room, ignoring the looks of all the mothers in the waiting area. Some are checking me out, I know, but I can’t even bring myself to give them any necessary eye contact.

They don’t want someone like me, they just want someone who looks like me. Two very different things.

I schedule Matty’s next appointment with the front desk secretary who tries to give me the eye. I want to snarl at her to make her go faster, but she’s drawing it all out to look at me. I go into asshole mode, and that seems to get the process to go a little quicker, thank God. I don’t wait the twenty minutes Doc Saunders told me to, but get Matty in the car and strap him in. I just want to go home and sleep for hours.

The drive home is a hundred times more pleasant than the drive going in. Matty even sings to Aerosmith’s “Dream On”, getting only half of the words right. I didn’t know I could smile after the day I had. The elevator ride up to my apartment is uneventful, and I’m happy he’s forgotten about the bubblegum balls I bribed him with like a pro.

When we get upstairs, only then do I realize I forgot my pouch in the glove compartment of my car. Heat and small electronic instruments don’t mix. I tell Matty to sit tight, lock up, and make my way down again, pissed when the doors open in the lobby instead of the basement like I’d intended them to go.

When the doors slide open, a dude I’ve never seen before gets in the elevator, carrying in enough groceries to feed a small country. I hold the door open for him as he waddles his way into the elevator car, and feel my jaw slacken when I spy Aly coming through the outer doors in the lobby, that the babe from next door’s holding open for her. Aly doesn’t even say thank you and that fucking bothers me.

I step out of the elevator in a daze, and hear the doors chime closed. I watch Aly dig into her purse for her phone, probably to call me, and the babe from next door use her key to get the inner doors unlocked. I can’t seem to move or speak - all I can do is watch I’ve forgotten all about my pouch.

I wish I knew the babe’s name; I wish I could talk to her and not come off as an asshole. I wish I was normal for her, I wish I didn’t have Matty. That kind of girl deserves one hundred percent of a man’s attention, if she wants it from him. She doesn’t need to deal with a little kid making shit all complicated, or the fact that I’m sick.

No, Aly’s the one for me. I walk past the babe next door, who holds the door open for me and walks away, eyes straight ahead, staring right at the elevator. I’ve been dismissed. Just like that.

“Hey, baby! I was just about to call you!” Aly squeals. When did her voice get so fucking annoying? “Did you like my little video?” she purrs, and I want to punch the door, make my fist go straight through the glass.

Rage boils my insides, blood pounds in my ears. I don’t want her here. I just want to sleep. But my dick wants in her, and I’m so pissed right now, a good bout of some serious angry fucking might help me set my head straight.

God, what must the girl next door think of me? I don’t want her to see me with Aly. I don’t want her to know how bad of a person I am, how bad of a father.

Then again, maybe I should show her how much of a dick I am by almost-fucking Aly right in front of her. That’ll kill all the possibilities for a better woman at my side for sure.

Chapter 4

I get the inner doors open with shaking hands, my keys making music for all to hear. Fucking Aly probably thinks it’s all for her, like I can’t get enough of her, when all I want to do is punish her for making me like this – a fucking animal, hooked on the way she makes my dick feel, the way my orgasm chases away the dark for slight bits of time.

Red coats my vision, and the way my body shakes reminds me of when I have a low. Every part of me trembles – muscles, eyelids, hell, even my insides. I hate what she’s done to me, how I need to fuck her, to feel normal even if I hate myself for doing it.

Aly somehow gets in front of me. I’m too far gone to notice how or when she did it, but we’re inside the lobby and she’s licking her lips in that way of hers, and I know she’s ready for me.

Awareness sets in and I know the elevator doors haven’t closed yet. And that the babe I really, truly want if I had the balls to try to be a good person is in there, is waiting for the doors to close. I need to erase her from my memory, I need to forget that she lives next door to me.

My attention zeroes in on Aly licking her lips, making them glossy. I hate this. I ignore the hollow feeling in my chest and make a grab for Aly’s hips, pulling her close to my body, not even enjoying the feeling of her chest pressed up against me, or the way she circles her hips, pushing into me, and my dick answers the call.

I push forward, making Aly walk backwards. Back, back, until we’re in the elevator. Fucking shit, I can smell
her
, something like cinnamon or vanilla, and it reminds me of a bakery.

It’s like divine intervention – I want a woman that smells like sugar – the one thing that can actually kill me if I don’t inject myself.

I bite Aly’s lip a bit too hard, and I’m about to pull back to apologize, but she winds her arms around my neck and squeezes her body closer to mine. I can’t breathe. My heart’s hammering in my chest while I brace my hands on either side of her head against the cab wall. In some part of my brain, I hear the doors close.

Now I’m locked inside an enclosed space with Aly and
her
. Fuck, I wish I knew her name.

Aly’s tongue’s in my mouth, making me do something with mine. Her appetite is voracious, and if I didn’t know better, I’d figure she’s a succubus, sucking out whatever happiness I have inside of me.

Aly moans, and I’m deeply ashamed of that sound, of how
she
can hear it, of how she’s probably watching us. Aly slings a leg over my hip, pushing her pussy right up against my dick, and I can’t help myself – I push back into her, feeling that lightning streak up my spine and my balls tighten up.

I need to get off this fucking elevator.
Now
.

Chiming, I hear the chiming of the doors opening like I’m underwater, completely separated from the sound waves. My body’s a raging fire of need, and the fucking way Aly grinds against me? Stars erupt behind my closed lids as I assault her mouth, and she gives everything back.

I hear
her
get off and out of the elevator, and I move backwards out of the lift, Aly keeping her face plastered to mine as we get into the hallway and I slam her against the wall, bucking my hips into her while a meagre pride lights up my chest when she moans like she’s going to get an Oscar for it. Fuck, I believe her. And maybe
she
will, too.

I don’t know why I do it, but I detach my mouth from Aly and peer down the hall, watching
her
get her key in the lock, shifting her weight back and forth from foot to foot like Matty does when he’s gotta go pee. It’s fucking adorable, and I find myself unable to look away. She’s so approachable with that one movement. Maybe I can talk to her without showing how much of a tool I am.

Maybe.

“Hunter, what’s wrong?” Aly asks, putting her claws on my head and yanking me over to her mouth, where she nips and sucks on my lips with an eagerness that should be understood with extensive therapy. I pull back again, wondering if the babe has any reaction to my name.
She
owns a piece of me now.

“Baby, are we gonna go inside? Please?” Aly whines and starts kissing along my neck when she knows I fucking hate that. I punish her with a kiss that she ends up liking anyway. I hear the door closing next door, and ignore the way I’m imagining kissing
her
.

I pull away long enough to get my door unlocked and open, hating and needing the way Aly paws at my chest with her front pressed to my back, long nails snagging on my hoodie, on my shirt, skimming along the waist of my jeans.

Fuck. I’m torn between yelling at her to fuck off, and wanting to ask for more touching, more of the crazy lust she makes me feel. More to make me forget what I did to Jules, and what I’m doing to her son. I’m so fucked. When it comes to the kid, my dick comes first.

I get us inside, not bothering to lock the door. Matty knows how to lock a door anyway, so it’s not a big deal. I have the decency to check on the little guy, making sure he’s asleep in his bed after the whole craziness at the hospital. If I had any shred of humanity left, I would apologize to Matty, or buy him his own gumball machine to say I’m sorry in the only way I know how to, with bribes and gifts that are meaningless in the end. Mom taught me that.

I get my bedroom door closed, all while Aly’s hands make my dick throb with every graze and caress and I’m ready to explode. I clench my jaw, and a shot of pain spears my ear and left temple. Awesome, I’m breaking teeth to stop myself from coming.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” she says, yanking off my hoodie, and impatiently grabbing my shirt and pulling it over my head. Her impatience used to get me off, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I have half a mind to shoot my load in the condom once I’m in her and let her take care of herself after I’m done. Then I’d be the asshole I profess to be. I hold back my grin.

Aly comes to face me, practically tearing off her own clothes, scratching her pale skin until red ribbons of disturbed flesh glare at me like it’s my fault.

“Fuck me now, Hunter. Please, I need to be fucked.” My dick twitches to comply, but I’d rather she shut her mouth. There’s no need to be talking now. I kiss her, play with her tongue, suck on it as I pull out all my moves and try to get one out of her before I embarrass myself.

When she’s close enough, panting, moaning for more do I get a condom from my nightstand, feeling every ounce of blood rush to the pre-come coating the slit of my dick as she begins touching herself, impatient for me.

I mean, what the fuck am I here for, if you can already do it yourself?
Three strokes in and I’m fucking ready. She’s milking me enough that I know she’s about to go off, and I don’t want to wait.

“
Hunter! Hunter! Hunterrrrr!”
Aly moans my name, and every time she does, I’m wishing it was
her
doing it. Fuck, I bet she’d be sweet, maybe a little naughty since she doesn’t show it on the outside. Christ, I could teach her to be naughty.

The thought spirals in my brain as I eke out two more hard pumps and I’m done for, wishing it could go on forever, wishing I could disappear or that this becomes my reality, and I don’t have to go back to being a dad, a fuckup with a chronic disease and a murderer.

I wind down all too soon with enough time to pull out of her and dispose of the condom in the bathroom. I snag a pair of sweats, refusing to look at Aly, who’s catching her breath and frowning at the ceiling. I move to the kitchen to check my sugar before peeking in on Matty, feeling like an eighteen-wheeler has parked itself on my chest. Dread swirls in my gut, and I wonder if I can afford to upchuck the food I managed to get down this morning, and how badly I’m going to be fucked up if I can’t eat.

It’s just another battle, another fight I have to wage on my body. I’ve become really good at this – I know exactly how to convince myself that I’m all right when I’m anything but. All it takes is a few words, and deep breaths I have to pull in through my nose and push out of my mouth.

Sometimes it takes no more than two minutes to convince myself that I’m doing fine, and there’s no reason for me to be feeling this shaky, or thinking about what my blood sugar levels are at. Sometimes it takes longer, but always,
always
, I can do what I need to because I refuse to die and leave Matty all alone.

Pain helps, too, especially when I’m on the verge of passing out. Once, it happened when I was driving Matty to daycare. The little guy was singing some rock ballad in the back seat, while a curtain of darkness started to descend over my vision, and the car in front of me didn’t seem so important anymore.

All I remember is mustering up enough energy to punch my radio, gouging my knuckles on several on the buttons. Pain has a way of violently reminding you where you are, and how much you don’t want to be there. It centers you, it brings you back out of that dark place you could’ve gotten lost in.

I don’t need pain right now, or food, and convincing myself I don’t have to throw up
won’t be needed after all. I just need to kick Aly out of my life. Whatever my dick wants is not worth Matty’s welfare.

Peeking into Matty’s room, I watch him sleep. I pad into his room and close his blinds, shutting the room in an understated darkness. Crouching down, I move my hand to touch his little back.

Matty’s so breakable, fragile. I can feel his ribs, and his heart
thump-thump-thumping
against my hand, like it’s reminding me it exists. I swallow past the pain in my throat and watch his little face, trying to compare him to Jules.