Climb on My Stepfather (Ashley and Alex)

Chapter 71

3: Gage.

When I wake up, she's gone.

It's like having a claw hammer buried in my skull.

I dive out of bed with a bellow, clutching at the sheets like I'm going to find her hidden in there. Where the hell did she go? Where the fuck did she go?

The anger has returned with a vengeance in her absence.

I scratch at my chest until blood shows up in angry welts. When she was in my arms, the snakes were kept at bay. Now she's gone and they're bigger, more vicious.

"Stella!"

I rampage through my apartment, knocking trophies off shelves. Pictures of me with the university president, the governor. People who mean nothing to me.

There's just her now. There's only her.

Just before I reach the kitchen, I stumble to a stop in front of a picture of my father. Standing beside me as confetti rains down, the marching band behind us, batons raised. Gone. The only other person to ever mean anything to me.

Gone. The snake fangs dig into my stomach with more force and I almost go down on my knees. Need her. I need her here now.

Do I even have her phone number?

My laughter doesn't hold a single note of amusement. I brought her here to live with me last night and I don't even have her phone number. Just an email address. I slide down the wall and bury my face in my hands, trying to breathe through the chaos in my head. Think. Think.

night, she was clinging

orgasm from a couple licks of

planning the next fifty positions I'm going to take her tight little body in. And there will be fifty more after that. Fifty more, fifty more, fifty more until the end of time, because she's mine. She's the antidote to the

tear at my hair, frustration

then I see the

words on it taped to my

breathe until it's in my hands.

see you later. -Stella "Hope I see you

Which lecture hall. There are barely any clues to go on here and

slap the note back onto the refrigerator so we

stuffed

that body of hers. And I'll inform her

no hope involved. There are no maybes in

going to see me later every

I find my phone on the counter and dial administration, asking for the dean by his first name. The man wears my jersey number on the sideline at games, so the secretary

go with Ms. McCartney? If you don't like her, we can find you someone

interrupt him with a hoarse laugh.

Understatement.

feel like more than a wounded beast. She's soft and horny and...I think she's a little broken, like me. If she can help me glue together the shit show I've made of my life, I can do the same for her. I

my hands on

“That's wonderful to hear.

the star quarterback. We can't have you missing the championship game

in the back. If he knew I was not only failing a class, but that I'd gotten arrested for vandalism, he would be appalled. He isn't here anymore, though, is he? He checked out and now I'm supposed to continue on as if everything

in this moment, there is only one thing that matters and every second that passes without her is unacceptable. I won't be able to think straight until she's back in my arms. "I need a favor," I say, cooling my hot forehead on the stainless steel of the refrigerator.