by Voss, Deja
All I can do is blink up at him, staring into those gorgeous eyes as he lays down the rules.
“You’ve always been such a tease. The way you kiss me goodbye, the way you’re always touching me, the way you accidentally forget to wear a bra whenever you invite me inside for drinks,” he growls. “It’s my turn now.”
“Shit,” I mutter, my eyes wide, not really sure what I’m getting myself into.
He laughs at me, stroking my hair out of my face, wrapping it around his fist and gripping it tight.
“That’s good,” he shrugs. “Now get over here and suck my dick.”
Chapter 13
Brooks
Sure, I’m being an asshole, but that’s what she likes. How do I know? Years of watching, years of observing. I didn’t go into this completely blind; I’ve been planning this day for a long, long time.
I’ve seen her after ‘work,’ as much as it fucking pains me. She’s a completely different person. She’s disassociated. She goes somewhere else. She takes charge and doesn’t let anyone even come close to getting at what’s deep inside of her.
Not how she is when she’s alone.
Not how she is when she’s with me.
When she’s with me, she’s all mine, only mine, all there. I’ve got her in the palm of my hand and she knows I could destroy her at any second. Shatter her. She trusts me. It’s so hot.
I let her ease her pretty lips around my dick, her tongue swirling my sensitive head. I could cum any second know, just looking down at her, desperate to please me while I grip her by the hair. I’m not going to, though. If this is going to be my only chance with her, I’m going to do whatever I can to make it last.
“Oh that’s so fucking good,” I growl, pushing her further down my shaft, feeling her warm mouth take me in as far as she can. She gags briefly, but pushes forward, until I feel my cock grazing the back of her throat. I loosen my grip on her gorgeous red hair, just enough so that she still knows I’m there, but letting her take over, my only desire to know exactly how bad she wants me.
I reach for her swollen mound; she’s dripping. She’s rocking her hips into my hand like a wild woman, moaning into my cock. I’ve got her in the palm of my hand, literally, and I know that all I have to do is move my finger in just the right way and she’ll be cumming buckets.
I have the power to give her the only thing she wants right now, and for the first time in our whole lives, I actually feel like she’s mine. Even if it’s just a second. Even if I’m doing whatever I can not to shoot my load in her mouth, her gorgeous pouty lips wrapped around my dick is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
I’ve been dreaming about this for years.
I press my finger against her warm throbbing clit. I feel the tremors ripping through her body.
In one swoop, I pull out of her mouth, flip her on her stomach, and enjoy the feeling of the walls of her pussy contracting around my cock.
Fucking her. Owning her. Showing her that I have everything that she needs in her life.
Not a friend.
A man who knows how to take care of her, how to make her pussy gush, and how to love her unconditionally.
But right now, I can’t hold off any more. I feel my cock twitch inside of her, her moans and pleas enough to drive me off the deep end.
I pull out, and with a devious smile on her face, she rolls over, grinning from ear to ear.
“May I?” she whispers before taking me in her mouth once again, and just those two words alone are enough to get me off.
I’ve never cum so hard before in my life. My ultimate fantasy fulfilled, having her for the night is, unfortunately, the best I’ve ever had.
Nothing will ever compare again to this little redheaded fox doing everything she possibly can to please me. The girl I’ve always loved.
The only girl I’ve ever really loved.
I’m screwed.
We both are quaking. I’m sure she’s come to the reality of what she’s done, that this can’t be undone, but we both collide back onto her comforter, my hands never leaving her body. I need to feel her as close to me as possible. I need to make sure this is real. Like the second I let go of her, all of this is going to go away.
I’m certain it is. That’s just how shit like this works. We’re not meant to be together, even though I want her more than anything in the world. She knows it, I know it, but neither one of us has the desire to admit it right in this moment.
“Holy shit, Brooks,” she sighs. “I don’t know if I’m gonna be up for the million orgasms you promised me.” She sweetly wipes the sweat from my brow, looking into my eyes. “Maybe after a nap and a sandwich. But I don’t think I can even walk at this point.”
All I can do is laugh. Laugh so I don’t say something really stupid.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, looking concerned all of a sudden.
“Nothing at all.” I pull her in for a kiss, needing to feel those lips on mine once again, needing to show her a little tenderness. I don’t want her to think she’s just some slam piece. She’s still Esther. I run my fingers through her hair and she softens in my arms. Our bodies fit together like we were made this way. Like of all the damn places on this earth either of us could’ve been dropped, of all the lives we could’ve had, it was meant to be like this.
“Why did you do it, Brooks?” she asks, her back facing me. “Why were you watching me? You’ve known me so long. We talk about everything.”
“Do we really though?” I ask her.
She doesn’t say anything to me, just wraps her fingers in mine. If we talk about it, then we have to admit all the reasons why this will never work. It’s easier to just live in this fantasy land where right now is all that matters.
“I watch you because it makes me feel like I have a part of you that no one else does. I like to know that you’re safe and happy. I let you down before, and it kills me every day. It wasn’t supposed to end up being some perverted Peeping Tom thing. I can’t help it that your hobbies give me a boner.”
“I’ll take that,” she says with a shrug. “You know you have a part of me no one else does, even if none of this ever happened, though. You have to know that by now.”
I do.
I just needed to hear her say it.
And now I don’t know if it’s a gift or a curse of a lifetime of misery.
It doesn’t matter now. I’m scared to move. Scared to make any move at all that will snap us out of this moment.
Chapter 14
I don’t know if it’s a dream come true or the start of some sort of wide-awake nightmare that’s only just beginning.
Her soft body is nestled up against mine, her breath sweet and shallow. She looks so pretty and perfect when she sleeps, but I already knew that, the creep that I am. I want nothing more than to join her in slumber, but my mind is racing.
“Hey,” I whisper in her ear, brushing her hair out of her face.
She blinks her eyes open, and I expect the worst. Instead, she just smiles at me groggily. “What time is it?” she whispers, her voice hoarse.
“I dunno, but your brother is gonna be beating down my door in a couple hours. I can’t blow him off again.”
“Well aren’t you a lucky guy,” she giggles. “You can’t get away from us Bodens, no matter what you do.”
“Well I promise I won’t be doing any of this with him.”
“Get outta here,” she says. She kisses me on the cheek in that not quite so casual way she always has, and this time I know I’m not just reading into things.
“What are you getting into today?” I ask as I pick my clothes up off the floor.
“Taking a ride downtown. There’s a pervert running around peeking in girls’ windows and I don’t have any blinds.”
She grabs a pillow and chucks it at me.
“Are we good here?” I ask, not sure what the appropriate protocol is supposed to be about moving forward. Obviously, if I had my way, she’d be on the back of my bi
ke and moved into my house tomorrow, but it’s all on her.
“I just want to give you a heads-up,” she says somberly. “I have a job this weekend. Salazar. I’m gonna do it.” I don’t know if she’s asking my permission or looking for a lifeline, or if she just wants to establish the fact that this thing is just a fling between us.
“OK.” I shrug, feeling her reaction out. I want to put my fist through the wall, but it’s not my place. If she’s going to be my old lady, I’m definitely not sharing her, no matter what it means to the club.
It’s not fair to her.
“See you in the war room?” she asks.
“Yeah, we’ll be back by then.”
Hopefully back with a plan. I’m going to show her that it doesn’t have to be this way. I’m going to show her that things are going to change.
I’m gonna start with her brother, the man I’ve called my best friend my entire life. He’ll smooth it over with her.
And as far as her father goes, well, I’m going to do right by Esther, even if it means that I have to kill him.
I take one last look at her as I walk out of the bedroom, her eyes sad and distant. I slam the door so hard that I scare the cat.
Fifteen Years Ago
Esther:
On the way back from the gas station, I figure I might as well celebrate my eighteenth birthday the only way I know how.
Sure, I’ve been drinking since I was twelve. I’ve had my share of cigarettes. But the first legal puff of tobacco feels like heaven to me. Instantly, I’m calm. I feel so cool. I feel like an adult. I only stole one of them from my Aunt Mary’s pack, but I debate whether I should go back and buy my own. Oh well, it’ll give me an excuse to get out of the house again later.
I see my dad’s motorcycle from the end of the block and my heart begins to beat faster. I know this guy sent me away and I should hate him for it, but I’m sure he had his reasons, and I’m so excited to see him I toss my cigarette and begin sprinting down the road.
There are a few cars in my Aunt Mary’s driveway, none of which I recognize immediately. I know she said she had a birthday surprise for me. Maybe she invited over some of my friends from school. As nice as that sounds, to be around some people my own age for the first time in months, there’s really only one person I want to see. I scan the vehicles, hoping that maybe I’m just overlooking his bike. Maybe he parked down the block. Maybe him and Gavin are going to really surprise me.
“Daddy!” I squeal as I walk through the doorway. He’s sitting on Aunt Mary’s ugly, floral, plastic-covered couch, nervously twiddling his thumbs. I run to hug him, but he doesn’t stand up; he just looks up at me from where he’s sitting and I think his eyes look watery, like he’s crying.
“Dad?” I ask. “What’s wrong? Did someone die?”
“No, no, everything is ok, Esther.” He sighs and takes a swig from his bottle of beer. “You want one?” he asks.
Great.
I have a feeling this isn’t a celebratory beer.
“Moses, quit dragging your feet, son,” my Aunt Mary shouts from the other room. “Don’t be so dramatic. Bring her in here.”
“Esther,” he says to me, his voice low, his brown eyes darkening. “You would do anything for the club, right?”
“Of course, Dad.”
“Then I’m going to need you to be strong for me. There are some men in the other room…” he trails off.
I don’t know what he’s implying. I’ve been around all sorts of men my entire life. Really bad men. I’ve seen things that no teenage girl should see, but I never felt endangered because I always had the club to take care of me.
“They are willing to pay good money for you, Esther. Money that the club really needs right now. We lost our biggest supplier and things are really rough for everyone.”
I can’t understand what he’s trying to say. “You’re going to sell me? Like a slave laborer?”
“No, no, no.” He half chuckles, but I think he’s just doing that out of kindness. “They think you’re a very beautiful girl. They’ve been watching you for some time now. Your virginity is worth a lot of money, you know.”
I shudder. He wants to sell my virginity? Is it really that big of a deal? I don’t want the first time I have sex to be with some random stranger who has been ‘watching me.’ That’s sick.
“I’m not a virgin, Dad,” I lie through my teeth. “Haven’t been for a long time.”
He grabs me by the throat faster than I can blink.
“Are you sure about that?” His hand squeezes tighter and tighter. I’m gasping for air, sputtering.
“Moses!” my Aunt Mary shouts, running into the living room. “They’re not gonna want her if she’s all covered in your handprints. What the hell are you thinking, son?”
I close my eyes, tears flowing from them, wishing he would just squeeze my throat so hard that he would kill me. These men might not want me with handprints, but the only way I’ll feel safe right now is if I’m dead.
He lets me go and I reel backwards, gasping for air, bawling, throwing myself to the ground.
“She says she’s not a virgin,” my dad tells her.
“She’s lying,” my Aunt Mary assures him. “And if she’s not lying, she’s gonna learn how to lie real well real fast here, aren’t ya?” she asks. She reaches her hand out to me, helping me off the floor. “Do you understand who you are, Esther? Do you understand how powerful you are? You have something that no man in the club has. You have something that every man your father does business with wants.”
“A hole?” I yell. “There are a ton of dirty birds for that. They’d probably pay those guys to fuck ’em.”
“No,” my Aunt Mary says. “Every man who does business with the club wants an opportunity to hurt your father.”
“So you’re going to let them hurt me instead?” I ask, shaking my head, backing away from the two of them with my hands in the air.
“They’re not going to hurt you, Esther. You’re going to hurt them. You’re going to use your body to take away their power. You’re going to use your feminine mystique to take whatever you want from them, whatever you need, whatever will make life better for you and your club,” she says.
“Like a spy?” I ask.
“Sure,” she assures me. “Now go fix your make-up dear, and maybe put on something a little less frumpy.”
“Like a spy,” I just keep repeating to myself over and over, reminding myself that this club is my life and I have to do the right thing. I know my family would do whatever they have to to keep me safe.
My dad won’t let these men hurt me.
I take a deep breath and walk up the stairs into my bedroom, looking back at them over my shoulder, my Aunt Mary smiling up at me and my dad just staring at the wall, his face stoic. It’s a face I’m going to need to learn for future reference.
It’s a face that comes along with being a Misfit.
Chapter 16
Present Day
It’s hard to drag myself out of bed and put on my ‘business as usual face,’ but I know the longer I stay here in my room, curled up under my covers, the smell of him all around me, like dirt from the earth and trees in the breeze, the more I’m going to go into a darker place. A deeper depression of what ifs and self loathing. I slide out with a sigh, bundling up my blankets and sheets so I can throw them in the washing machine. Destroy all the evidence.
There’s a knock on my front door. I look out my bedroom window and see a yellow jeep in my driveway. Olive won’t care if I just throw on my bathrobe.
“Hey, sweetie,” she says, throwing the door open. This girl has quickly become one of my best friends over the last few years. She runs the bar we have downtown, The Bucktail Saloon, with my brother. She’s shorter than I am, bleached blonde hair currently with streaks of bright purple throughout, and she’s wearing a strappy bralette and shorts that come up past her bellybutton. She’s a cute thing, fierce, and she’s never compromised her authority at
the bar for a man. I wish all our employees were like her. I wish all my friends were like her. Hell, I wish I was like her.
“I brought you brownies,” she giggles. “I’m not sure which ones are the good ones. I tried to make one batch of plain and one batch with pot, but I ate too much batter and now it’s like playing roulette.” She sets the Tupperware container on my kitchen table and begins digging through my cupboards. “Do you have coffee?”
“Sure, Olive,” I laugh. “Make yourself at home.” She always does. This girl moves through a room like she owns the place, never afraid to go through your closet or ask the kind of questions that everyone else is too afraid to.
“Your dad said you weren’t coming to work for the rest of the week. He said girl stuff. I figured I’d stop by and cheer you up. Especially when you didn’t answer your phone all night or today.”
“Ollie, I don’t even know where my phone is. I’m sorry. Thank you though. I’m actually really glad you’re here.”
Maybe brownie roulette IS the best possible way for me to spend my afternoon. Better than worrying about something that is already done, something out of my control. I start a pot of coffee and we sit down at the table. I can tell by the way she’s staring at me, I’m a sight to behold.
“I need to talk to you about Saturday. Fight night at the Bucktail. I need to borrow some of your employees from up here. It’s gonna be nuts.”
“Shit,” I stutter. “I keep forgetting that’s this weekend. I have to go out of town.”
“Business or pleasure?”
I roll my eyes at her.
“You know you’re my friend and I support any decision that you make, right?” she asks.
“I know that. That’s why you’re so awesome.”
“Then why don’t you make your own damn decisions? Why do you let your dad control your life, Esther? Why do you let this club turn you into someone you’re not. I know you make a killing at the bar. I know it’s not a money thing. What is it then?”