This prompt continues with Mav’s Story. This is the 5th installment so if you’re new and would like to read it in chronological order, read it all HERE. This picks up shortly after Jealous Distraction.
Lightning raced toward us, the echoing boom several seconds behind.
My death hold around John’s waist tightened. “Get me the hell off this bike!”
“Almost there.” He weaved through the city streets, veering through the occasional alleyway.
“I used to live here, John. You’ve been driving in circles for thirty minutes. Stop this damn thing or I’m jumping off!”
“Two blocks, Mav.”
“Hurry.” I inhaled the leather of his jacket, my body clenched around his.
Wind in my hair, flying over the open road.
Waiting for the straightway to creep my hands beneath his T-shirt, tracing the lines of his six pack before moving them lower.
The bright crackle arced above my head, the simultaneous boom so close it reverberated over the rumble of the motorcycle.
The heavens opened seconds later, drenching us.
Too late, we pulled into a driveway, the rickety garage opening before us as we sped into it, my body forced into his as he braked too quickly.
“Wait here.” He vanished before I could argue.
Thunder shook the walls, the wind roared, and rain slammed the roof and windows.
I climbed off the bike, my legs shaky, barely able to hold me. I stumbled to the tool bench, curling into a tiny ball beneath it.
I needed my pills. Now.
He found me there. Minutes, maybe hours later.
“Mav?” His voice was soft, gentle. “I’m here now. We can go inside.”
He didn’t wait for a response and cradled me in his arms, jogging between the garage and house as rain pelted us.
I held on for dear life, as lightning lit the air around me, paired with another crash.
“I have you, Mav. It’s ok. Hold on.”
“My pills.” I finally choked the words out.
A muttered curse answered me. “All I have is your license, cash, and credit cards.”
I trembled as another boom vibrated the room, my heart threatening to explode.
The kitchen. Harsh fluorescent light. Cupboards slammed. Glasses clinked.
The scent of an old friend, begging me.
The familiar taste of Uncle Jack on my lips, coughing as it ran down my throat, leaving a trail of fire.
The vise in my throat lessened and I gulped with greed. “More.”
He set me down, releasing me. “Sorry, Mav. Your stomach is empty. Anymore and you’ll be over the toilet all night. I’ll get a bath ready. Will you be okay for a minute?”
I lied and he left.
I quickly poured another shot, the sloshing noise so loud, I was certain he would hear.
I tossed it back, the fire slightly less. I poured another.
I walked up to the front, facing the dozen people in front of me.
I rubbed the new shiny chip in my hand.
“My name is Madison and I’m an alcoholic. It’s been two years since I had my last drink.”
The thunder echoed again and I tossed the shot back, already feeling the wooziness slide over me.
I poured a fourth drink, half of it spilling on the table as the bottle disappeared from my hand.
“I need you here, Mav.”
I lurched into his arms, draping my arms around his neck again. “Oh, I’m here, baby.”
“That hit fast. Let’s get you cleaned up before you pass out.”
The arms again, and I burrowed my head into his neck, smelling the rain mingled with…him. I wondered if he tasted the same.
I licked his neck, the saltiness bursting on my tongue as my body caught fire.
I needed him.
He put me down next to an ancient claw footed bathtub. “Can you undress yourself?”
“Hell, you can’t even stand straight. Arms up.”
“Make me forget. Please.”
His hands and mouth covered my body, my moans drowning out the rolling thunder.
My wet shirt made a sucking sound as he peeled it from my skin.
I tumbled to the floor and he struggled to pull off my soaked jeans.
My lacy bra followed, joining the puddle on the tile.
I hoisted myself up using the tub, clad in only my panties.
“Make me forget, John.”
Let’s continue on with our prompts based on the Seven Deadly Sins.
This week, it’s all about gluttony – eating and drinking to excess.
We can’t wait to see what your characters do, if you’re writing fiction. Word limit is 600.