Gus Read Online Free Page A

me.  
    And I lose my fucking mind when I glide inside. She's tight around me. I've never felt anything like it. No barrier, just skin on warm, wet skin. This is intimacy. I get it now.
    I take her hips in my hands and help guide her up and down, back and forth. We move together and I can't take my eyes off her body sitting up on top of mine. Riding me. She's sexy as hell.  
    Holding her close, I roll us over. When I'm settled between her legs, I touch the tip of my tongue between her breasts and slowly run it up, sucking gently at the base of her throat as my hips begin to move. She pulls back when I do and meets every thrust with one of her own. I knew Bright Side was graceful. I've watched her surf. I've watched her dance. I've watched her play her violin. But none of that compares to what I'm watching her doing beneath me right now. What she's doing to me? It's mesmerizing; I can't take my eyes off her.  
    And then I decide I need more of her. I take her knee in my hand and push it back toward her so I can go deeper. She gasps when I do.
    "You okay?" I ask.
    "Yeah," she sighs contentedly in her lust-filled voice.
    Fuck. I pick up the pace because it's building. I feel it in both of us. She's moaning now, tightening around me. Wringing every last wish, and every last craving, and every last ounce of passion out of me; I willingly and hungrily give it all to her.
    My lips find hers one more time and she responds like the world's about to end. This kiss is the precursor to a euphoric detonation.  
    And then she completely shatters underneath me and it's the most beautiful thing I've seen in my life. I explode along with her. "I love you," I gasp.
    She's panting beneath me and smiling, but suddenly she looks bashful as she bites her bottom lip. And she looks tired.
    I kiss the tip of her nose and pull out of her. And then we just stare at each other for a long time. And even when the shyness fades, we don't say anything. I think we're both trying to process what just happened. And me? I'm trying to commit every second of it to memory because I know in my heart this will never happen again. I was just given a gift. And I will treasure it for the rest of my life.  

    My eyes flash open when I hear Franco cough in the bunk beneath me. It brings me back to the shitty present. I hate the shitty present. I want to rewind time. I want to go back. That's why I don't think about that night. It amplifies the fucking disaster that is my current life.

Sunday, February 5
    (Gus)

    Last night it seems I was impaired two or three lagers beyond the ability to function. I honestly don't remember any of it. I guess they cancelled the show due to my sudden "illness." It will be rescheduled and tacked onto the end of our tour. Everyone's pissed at me and I know I should care, but I don't. How fucking sad is that? Robbie yelled at me last night. He told me to, "Pull my selfish, fucking head out of my ass." In the five years I've known Robbie, I've never heard him yell. It should've had more of an impact on me, but it didn't.  
    The logical part of me knows I'm letting them all down.  
    Every other part of me doesn't care.

Tuesday, February 7
    (Gus)

    It's afternoon, and I've been sleeping off another long night. I wake up to the sound of Franco's voice coming from the front of the bus—and he's talking with a woman. This intrigues me because the bus is moving, which means we haven't reached our destination yet, which means there shouldn't be any females on this bus. The longer I listen, I learn that Hitler is gone due to a personal matter back home. Which sucks for him, but is fantastic for me because his constant fucking condescension was getting on my last frayed nerve. He's left us with a stand-in, a new tour manager. I can hear her listing off her credentials to Franco. Based on what I can make out, she's fairly new to the game, but she sounds legit. Like she knows her shit, or at the very least is a great bullshit artist. Either one