Page 3 of LOT 62

Thinking about that made my chest get tight, ruining my attempt at a nap. I hopped off the couch, pacing the double-wide trailer we called home, waiting for Devon to get back from work. When seven o’clock hit, I got pissed. Nate said he’d kick him out at six, and he still wasn’t home? Fuck you, Devon.

I got sick of being angry, so just to spite him, I left. I walked across the park with my fists clenched and pulled the door open at my mom’s trailer.

And saw Devon.

“Fuck, Maddox,” Devon cursed me. “I thought we were meeting here, you prick. I’ve been waiting.” He had a half-eaten plate of some shitty casserole my mom made in front of him.

My first instinct was to hit him for pissing me off, but seeing him here, knowing he came looking for me at my mom’s, well, it settled my fists a bit. He stood up to get me a plate while my mom said hello, but I didn’t let him go. I grabbed his wrist, felt him tense for a punch he thought he was going to get, and pulled him in for a hug.

“You fucking softy,” he joked against my neck, wrapping his arms around my middle.

I didn’t say anything because there wasn’t anything to say. Just feel. Yeah, I missed him, and I had gotten pretty tired of missing him so often, but now wasn’t the time for that chat.

“Honey, sit!” Mom interrupted. “I made… uh, something.” She pointed at a casserole that honestly looked disgusting.

“It’s better than the last one,” Devon whispered in my ear. He grabbed me a plate and we sat down.

Mom still wore her scrubs—her cleaning uniform for the hospital—and shovelled way too much of that casserole on my plate. She got by alright, made most of her shifts, managed to make these horrible dinners on Fridays, and hadn’t gotten herself into too much trouble lately. She was still a wino, but she had slowed down on the pain pills. Either that or she was better at hiding it from me now that I didn’t live with her anymore. Probably that.

“How was work?” Mom asked, ignoring her dinner but swirling her wine.

“The same as it is every day,” I answered. “You get more shifts at the hospital?” I nodded at her scrubs.

“I’m just filling in for a girl who’s on leave.” Mom waved it off like it was no big deal. It was a big deal because the old her would have never taken extra shifts, let alone showed up for her own. The only reason she still had a job there was because they were so desperate for cleaning staff. I was proud of her, and she knew it, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it in case it put pressure on her and made her fail. I could respect that.

I took a bite of the casserole and damn near gagged. “What is this?” I chewed slowly, trying to either swallow really fast or not at all. “Is that tuna and… spaghetti sauce?” Jesus.

“I didn’t have any hamburger meat! I thought tuna would work. It’s not that bad!” She threw her arms wide like I was offending her dinner effort even though her own plate sat mostly untouched in front of her. Some of the noodles were pushed around strategically to make it look like she ate more.

Oh, it was definitely that bad, but Devon ate it anyway. Nate and Xavi showed up, bickering about something like old wives, but it made Mom happy, so I was all for it. I pulled Devon away and told him we were leaving. He didn’t argue, but he lit a smoke as we walked home. He’d been doing that more lately, and I kind of hated it because it was another expense we didn’t need.

“Steven Patterson came by the shop today,” Devon said. “That guy is such a piece of shit he tried to buy the building back for three times what we paid for it.”

I looked at him and frowned. Money wasn’t worth dreams, but that was a pretty penny. “You guys gonna do it?”

“Fuck no. I wouldn’t sell that asshole a kidney for a million bucks.”

“You’ve got two kidneys, and a million bucks would be nice,” I laughed. But yeah, Steven Patterson, the original shop owner, was one of the biggest assholes I knew. Well, other than Devon’s dad, but we didn’t talk about that because fists usually flew.

“You know what’d be even nicer?” Devon asked, looking at me with a sick grin on his face. “If you told me what is up with you and your job lately. Spill it, Madd. I know you aren’t happy.”

Guess he wanted to talk about it now then. “It’s not about the job. It’s just…” Why was this so hard? Why did I feel like a whiny bitch for admitting I missed him? “We’re just busy all the time and it fucking sucks.” Good enough.

“I know,” Devon agreed. “We’re good though, right? Like us? We’re solid?”

Yeah, we were solid during the three hours a week we managed to be awake around each other. I nodded in answer, but that wasn’t good enough for Devon. He tossed his smoke, put a hand on my chest, and physically forced me to stop walking.

“Don’t shut me out, Madd. Tell me shit.”

But how? How did I tell him I wish he worked less, had more time for me, and didn’t spend all his energy on the shop when that was his dream? I couldn’t take that away from him just because I was a needy boyfriend. I wanted him to live his dream. I guess I just thought I’d also be his dream. I felt pathetic even thinking that, so I shook my head and shrugged.

“Just miss you. The times we used to do shit together.” Too sappy, so I added, “And I hate you for making me give a fuck about where you are.” There. Credit.

Devon grinned at me. “I miss you too. Come on. I got us something to help with that, and I owe you a blowie from this morning.” He dragged me back to Lot 62.

Therealwayscamethissense of power with being the bottom. With Devon fucking me hard and deep, my body became very aware of what it did to him. He wanted me so badly he literally couldn’t contain himself, and that shit felt good. He thrust his hard cock inside me, eyes rolled back, unrestrained moans escaping his lips, and a sheen of sweat over his chest. Me. I did that to him. And I was damn proud of it.

“Fuck, you feel good, Madd,” he rasped at me. “I’ve wanted to fuck this ass all day.”