Afraid to Fly
S.L. Jennings
May 26th
Meet Dirty Dom in this fantastic stand-alone!
I’d like to tell you that I’m ok.
That the meaningless sex with countless
women has somehow numbed the pain. That it’s deciphered the constant confusion
in my head. Eased the self-hatred that sinks into my gut every time I look in
the mirror.
I’d like to tell you that time heals all
wounds.
That we evolve and grow into
well-adjusted, stable adults, set on a path to right the world’s wrongs. That
we are not our past…we are not our pain.
I want to tell you all those things.
Hell, I want to believe all those
things. But I’d be lying. I’m good at that. Living a lie is the only way I
truly know how to survive.
But the day I saw her, I stopped
surviving. I stopped existing. And for the first time in 24 years, I started living.
She brought me back to life. Set me free
and sent my soul soaring. Made this useless shell of a man feel like…something. Something whole and real and
good.
She saved
me.
Although she believes I wasn’t even worth
saving.
This
story chronicles the journey of Dominic Trevino, a character from Fear of Falling. However, it can be read
as a standalone.
Velvet sucked me until I was on the brink
of release and for a quick moment, I thought about just getting it over with.
But I needed more. I needed that physical connection. I yearned for her touch,
her kiss, her smell. It reminded me that I was not like him. I was not what he
had hoped I would be. It stated that just because I had been violated, that
didn’t make me…it didn’t make different. It didn’t make me gay. I didn’t want that. I wanted this.
Spreading those shapely, toned thighs and
filling her up until I pulsed in her womb validated me. Every stroke was a
confirmation, and the deeper I went, the more whole I felt. But the moment it
was over, the moment I pulled out of her, my latex-sheathed cock wet with her
gratification, the doubt began to claw its way back in. Telling me that I was
dirty—stained. Used. Useless.
She smiled lazily at me, the dark kohl
outlining her eyes smudged along the apple of her cheek. I brushed it tenderly
with the pad of my thumb and told her she was beautiful.
“Oh, Dom. You’re such a sweet gent. Too
bloody sweet for this shit,” she giggled, looking soft and girlish. I liked her
better that way, untarnished by the hardness of life.
“You think so?”
“I know so. Good guys like you shouldn’t
be fucking strippers in the middle of the day. I mean, I’m not complaining—I
can still feel you inside me, for
crying out loud—but, I don’t know. You deserve better.”
I winced at her words, and how much I
longed for them to be true. She was just feeding me more lies, and I was
ingesting them like candy.
Except this one. This one I knew would
never be true. Even if it was the one I wished for the most.
“Nah, I don’t. They
don’t call me Dirty for nothing.”
Fear of Falling (A Fearless Novel)
S.L. Jennings is a New York Times & USA Today
bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance, reality TV junkie,
obsessive coffee drinker and collector of crazy.
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