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And now I’m six hundred miles from home, dirty and tired, and I still can’t get away from the demons in my head, and even worse, in my heart.

Fuck yeah, I’m running away. Maybe she was right. I’m weak. A seventeen-year-old girl has completely derailed my brain and rocked me off my ass. I should be stronger than this. Even Sydni never had my head all twisted up like this and she had years of practice.

I thought a nice long ride and camping out in the woods would bring my head back around and give me some clarity. The stillness of the woods, with nothing but the sound of birds chirping in the morning, crickets at night, and the wind in the trees is therapeutic for me. But the thing is, it isn’t just my head that’s messed up. It’s my heart.

I think I’m falling in love with her, and I’m powerless to stop it. I can feel it, like a train with no brakes, coming faster and faster, straight for me. Soon, it’s going to crash, and it’s not going to be pretty.

My head is telling me I’m sick, and fucked in the brain. Not just for having feelings for a woman so young, but for being physically attracted to her, too. But my heart is telling me this is my girl, my other half—the one I’ve been waiting for. And let’s not even get started on my dick and what that part of my anatomy is thinking and wanting.

All of this just complicates the shit out of my life. This is entirely new territory for me; not being in control of my own feelings, and I’m not dealing with it well.

These feelings can’t be normal. I have adult women who want me. I can fuck them, I can love them – I can do anything with a handful of women I know. All I have to do is put the effort in, and they’d be mine any way I want them, without any baggage or dark clouds of doom hanging over us.

The problem is the only girl I really want is an adorable, smart, loving, almost-eighteen year old who I’ve been taking care of since she was born. Of course, she’s the only girl I can’t have. Karma, you are one demented bitch.

How the hell did this happen?

A year ago, I didn’t feel like this. Sure, I loved and cared about her, and enjoyed her company. But that was it. We went from an uncle and niece relationship to a friendship, and that’s all it ever was. There were never any other feelings involved, not even in the slightest.

So what the hell changed? How come every time I’m near her now, all I want to do is kiss her? Why do I keep losing control around her? Why can’t I get her out of my head? Sure she’s beautiful, but I’ve never been the type of guy that can’t control himself around good looking women.

And even more screwed up is she seems to feel the same way. Kenzi isn’t the flighty type and she’s always been mature for her age. She’s not a silly giggly teen like my sister was, jumping from guy to guy. Kenzi’s like Asher – she knows what she wants and she doesn’t deviate for anything. Knowing this scares the hell out of me even more because if she says she wants me, then she knows it one thousand percent, without a doubt. That’s what I’ve been wanting, needing and looking for in a woman for so long. Someone who knows what they want and isn’t afraid to grab it.

But not like this. Not with her.

As I pack up my small pup tent and sleeping bag and secure them onto the back of my bike, I know I’m heading back home with absolutely zero resolution to my Kenzi dilemma. Thankfully she’s in Maine now and I won’t see her for at least two months. Quitting each other cold turkey should break whatever this new wacked out connection that’s between us is for good so things can go back to normal.

I hope.

After riding for about two hundred miles, I pull over to the side of the winding mountain road to drink some water and stretch my back out, which is starting to ache from all the hours on the bike and sleeping on the ground for two days. I can’t wait to get home, take a hot shower and a muscle relaxer, and sleep in my own bed.

I’m just about to get back on my bike when I see something moving out of the corner of my eye in the tall weeds on the side of the road. Removing my sunglasses, I walk over and see that it’s a taped up cardboard box. And it’s moving.


Tags: Carian Cole All Torn Up Erotic