CHAPTER 35

My dreams were vivid during the night. Many different dreams merging into each other. I wake up cold from having kicked off the bedding at some point and feeling like I've been awake all night because of the dreams. In the moments after waking, I try to catch remnants of them, but they elude me like fireflies.

I check my phone. Dr. Emily left two voice messages and three text messages.I need to know how the meds are working, Levi. Get back to me as soon as possible?Sent yesterday at five o'clock.

It's six-thirty a.m.

I'm still manic. My head is buzzing, like a thousand people are talking at the same time and their voices are coming from every conceivable direction, and I'm there somewhere in the middle unable to turn it off.

Turning onto my stomach, I crook my knee upward, run my hand down my side and over my ass, sinking my fingers between my cheeks. Hmm. I'm still so deliciously sticky. We fucked almost all night. That's the Hayden I want. He's no fuckin' missionary-style gentleman.

My asshole is wrecked. I can hardly touch myself. Moving my other hand back, I squeeze my ass cheeks, pulling them apart, and exposing my asshole to the cool air. Clenching and releasing my hole, I dig my cock into the sheets, mewling softly and rotating my hips. I'm so horny.

Turning my head to look at Hayden's sleeping form, my lusty haze clears long enough to admire him.

With a lazy smile I consider how Hayden might just be my ultimate drug. If I stayed off my real drugs, he would do just fucking fine. Somewhere in my loaded head, I know how dangerous that thought is, but, right now, it's more of an abstract concept. Maybe it would be dangerous for other people with Bipolar Disorder. I'm just fine.

And right now, I'm so fine that I need to fuck again.

Hayden is lying on his back. His soft breaths are amplified inside my ears, like music. I could compose a love song for us with his gentle inhalations and exhalations. Maybe I'll paint us a love song one day. One more thing neither he nor I can have. Perhaps I'll paint us a sad love song. Maybe that we can have. Because if not happiness, then maybe sadness is still better than nothing. Sadness means there was once something or at least the hope of something. And that's better than nothing.

The tip of my dick catches against a scrunched-up part of the sheets. I groan softly, immediately setting aside my sad euphoria because there is much sex to be had.

Hayden looks so delicious, half his chest exposed, one arm slung out, and his muscles bunched up. He is so gloriously beautiful.

I turn, careful not to wake him with my movements. With my toe, I move the blanket inch by inch until I've uncovered enough for his soft cock to become visible to my manic eyes.

He stirs, maybe from the cool air. I pause.

And then, I can't hold back anymore.

I climb him, straddle his knees, and drop my face to his cock. My tongue licks up the soft length, then down to his balls.

Hayden shifts. But I'm already here, and why can't we start the day with a party? It's Saturday, anyway. I think? We don't have anywhere to be on Saturday.

He reaches down, grabbing hold of my hair. I know he's going to flip us over any moment. He's stronger than me; I'll be on my back as soon as he decides it. So, I bury my face between his thighs, licking his balls and reaching up for his dick at the same time. I'm so excited by his soft dick, I widen my mouth and lift his balls to try and get both into my mouth. It's awkward, and I don't manage.

I'm underneath him in one second flat.

"You're tired," he growls, except his sleepy voice makes him sound like a mama bear instead of a big, scary daddy bear.

"I'm not," I insist, pushing against the arms he has caged on either side of my head. When they don't budge, I turn my head and drag my tongue up his armpit.

Hayden, I'm beginning to learn, is very disciplined when he wants to be. "You need to start the day with your meds," he says, like he's my therapist.

"I don't need them," I say defiantly. "I want to fuck."

"We've fucked enough for one night. You can't handle any more."

I bury my face into his armpit. "I fucking can," I say while I give his armpit another long lick.

He shifts, forcing me to look up at him. God, he's beautiful in the morning. All puffy-eyed and swollen lips, and, hard now, his warm body pressing down into mine. Actually, I'm the one pressing up into him to keep us skin to skin.

"Your body can't handle it."

"You ever heard of a switch, stud? If you're on a mission to save my literal ass, then I know another way to do this."

Hayden stares down at me. A million moments of I'm gonna regret this later fly into my mind. Of course, they go flying right out of my mind immediately afterward.

He pulls the lobe of my ear into his mouth and whispers, "We don't have any condoms left."