by Voss, Deja
“I like getting you all worked up, Esther,” I say, kissing my way down her soft stomach, stopping just before the elastic on her shorts. “I like knowing that you’ll do anything I say as long as I get you off.” She’s running her fingers through my hair, urging me to go further. I grab her wrists in my hands, and she scowls at me, a glimmer of anger flashing in her eyes. “You’re gonna get what you want, girl. But I need to talk to you about something first.”
“Brooks, I tell you everything. You know that,” she sighs. “We don’t have any secrets. You know my job. You spied on me through my window and saw me, you know…”
“That,” I say. “I want to talk about that.” I watch her blush from head to toe as I hold her wrists tighter, my cock straining in my jeans like it’s going to bust through at any second. “Tell me how it makes you feel when you show your pussy all over the internet.”
Chapter 27
Esther:
My heart is pounding. The way he has me gripped in his hands like this, pinned between his legs on the kitchen island; there’s nowhere for me to hide. I feel the blush burning through my entire body, my fair skin the color of a tomato by now.
“I won’t do it ever again,” I blurt out, more ashamed about this than anything else I’ve done in my past.
“I know that, Esther,” he breathes into my ear, the fine hairs on my neck standing straight up. “I’m not mad. Just curious.”
“I guess,” I say, taking a deep breath, “it just fulfilled some sort of need I have. When I go to work, people want me for who I am, for who my father is. It’s not sexy at all to me. It doesn’t turn me on. It’s just a job.”
“I didn’t ask you about your work, Esther. I know all about your work. I want to talk about your extracurricular activities.” The way he’s grinning at me just makes me feel that much more self-conscious, like he’s looking inside my soul, like he’s going to make me repent for all my highest sins. “Does it turn you on, knowing that a bunch of strangers are looking at your tits while they beat their dicks at you?”
I look away from him, avoiding his sexy, devious glare.
“Does it make you wet?”
Not as wet as I am right now, under his interrogation. Something about the way he’s putting it all out on the table, not quite shaming me, but making me confess, makes me squirm in his hands.
“Come on, girl; I’m dying to know,” he says, grabbing my chin in his hand, forcing me to face him down. I can feel his breath on my face, his lips mere millimeters away from mine. I blink long and hard, thinking maybe this is just a dream. A hot dream, albeit an awkward one.
Finally, I mutter, “It makes me feel alive. Knowing that these guys are just looking at me as some sort of slut, some sort of fuck toy. Knowing that they don’t know who I am or where I come from. Knowing that if things get out of hand, all I have to do is shut off my computer and walk away and I’m safe and sound in my own home.”
He nods, and lets go of my chin, reaching for his belt, slowly unbuckling it. “Fair enough.”
“It’s not like I had any other options, Brooks. You guys look at me like I’m damaged goods, either because of what I do, or who my father is.”
“Now you’re just making excuses, Esther,” he says as he slowly works his belt through the loops. He grabs my wrists once more. “I know who you are. I know what you’ve been through. You’re the woman I’ve always loved, and nothing you say or do can change that. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page here.”
He pulls my arms behind my back, securing my wrists in the looped leather, my bare breasts pebbled with goosebumps jutting out, inches from his face.
“That good for you?” he asks. I just blink again, not really sure what to say or do, just knowing that I feel more exposed than I ever have in my life. He tugs at my shorts, pulling them down my thighs with his big strong hands, tossing them to the floor. “I’d say yes,” he says, eyeing my swollen, soaking mound and shooting me a wink. “I want to make you feel alive, Esther. I want to make you feel like some sort of dirty slut. You can be my fuck toy whenever you want. And when I’m done with you, you’ll still be the girl I love. The girl I want to spend the rest of my life with. The girl I’m going to marry. The girl who’s moving into my house tomorrow.”
“Brooks…” I whisper, my heart beating through my chest, this mixture of lust and love and all my dreams coming true in one instant. “You didn’t have to tie me up. I’d still say yes either way.
“I know,” he laughs. “I wanted to, though. I want you to trust me with everything you have. I want you to know I’ll always keep you safe, I’ll give you the best life you could imagine. I want to show you that I know how to take care of you.” He presses his lips to mine, grabbing the back of my head and drawing my face closer and closer to his. “And now, I want to take your virginity like I should’ve all those years ago.”
I gulp, knowing exactly what he means. He unbuttons his pants and slides down his boxers, his cock standing at full attention, hard, pulsating, a bead of pre-cum drizzling from the slit. I lick my lips, the walls of my pussy contracting, desperate to be filled by his beautiful shaft. In an instant, he’s inside me, powerfully thrusting his hips into me, nearly sending me over the edge as he works his way in and out.
“You’re dripping,” he groans. “Just the way I like you.” When he pulls out of me and turns me over on the counter top, my breasts pressed into the granite, I feel my thighs tremble. I know what’s coming next, and I’m almost more nervous than I was the real first time.
Almost. Except this time it’s with someone I love and who loves me. Someone who I respect. Someone who didn’t have to buy me, but someone who’s always owned me, someone who’s always had at least some part of me, the most important part of me.
I feel his fingers circling that intimate spot, the spot that I’ve never shared with anyone. As he slides one in, my thighs begin to quiver. He uses his other hand to caress my clit, bringing me just right up to that edge. As he works another finger inside me, slowly stretching and preparing me for his girth, I start to relax. The sensation is so new to me, but it makes my core clench and my whole body tingle, and soon I am moaning, working with his thrusts, ready for everything he has to offer. I feel so helpless with my hands bound behind my back, but so right, so turned on.
This man would never hurt me. At least not in the kind of way that would leave me sad. Only in the kind of way that I like, that I’ve been craving. He lines the head of his dick up with my hole and I take a deep breath.
“I love you so much, Esther. I always have, and I always will for the rest of my life,” he assures me. “Are you ready?
“Yes,” I cry out, like we’re diving off the cliff, like we’re exploring something unknown and the only thing I can do as he bottoms out, burying himself all the way inside me in one slow and controlled thrust, is scream out for him, every nerve ending inside of me firing in the best possible way. The way he’s holding on to my hips, his thighs pressed into mine, owning me deeper and deeper, has me on the verge of cumming on the counter without even moving a muscle.
Soon he’s thrusting in and out, slowly, tenderly, exploring my aching clit with his fingers.
“I’m gonna cum,” I whine, writhing from the pressure, feeling like I’m going to shatter into a million pieces. He just moans along with me, deep and growly, pushing me off the cliff with his touch. I feel myself squeezing him inside of me, and he pulls out with a grunt, coating my back with his hot jizz. He unties my wrists and flips me over, pulling me in for a long passionate kiss, sealing the deal, making everything he said come true.
This is how life’s going to be now. Me and him against whatever odds might come our way. Lord knows there’s going to be plenty, but that’s ok. All is right in the world.
He towels me off almost tenderly and lifts me up off the counter, carrying me to the couch in the living room. It’s cute, it’s caring, the way he’s speechless but tender at the same time, the way he won�
��t stop touching me, won’t stop brushing my hair out of my face, staring at me like if he blinks I’m going to disappear.
“Hey,” I finally say to him as he hovers over me like a dog guarding a bone. I pull his face to mine and give him a quick peck on the lips, running my fingers through his beard. “It’s ok.”
He smiles, staring at my naked body sprawled on the couch. He pulls a blanket off the back, draping it over me.
“Now you’re just being weird,” I laugh. “Is the sight of my naked body disturbing you or something?”
“Kind of,” he shrugs. “But in a good way, if you know what I’m saying.”
“You’re relentless,” I sigh. And I’m lucky. There’s nothing I want to do more than make up for lost time. Well, eventually. Right now I want food. I want food, I want to curl up with him. I want to watch TV with him and cuddle and do things that normal couples do. Because that’s what we’re going to do now. We’re going to be a perfectly normal Mountain Misfit couple.
“Are you going to feed me or what?” I ask.
“Oh shit,” he says. “Is that the only reason why you haven’t run away yet?”
“Yes,” I tease. “Some girls fuck for Louis Vuitton bags. I take it up the butt for tater tots.”
“Esther, that’s not even kind of funny,” he says, but I can tell he’s holding back a smirk.
“Well you’re just going to have to get used to it. You should see what I’ll do for a chocolate chip pancake.”
“Don’t try me, girl,” he chuckles.
Fifteen Years Ago
Brooks:
I ball my fist up tight and begin punching holes in the wall next to the stairway. I can’t feel what I’m doing. I can’t feel anything at all. My dad’s death has left me numb.
None of it makes sense. That man knew his bike inside and out. He knew these roads up and down. He could drive them with his eyes closed. He would never be so stupid to just head-on crash into that tree. The coroner said it wasn’t a heart attack or stroke, that everything was normal. Hell, even if a deer jumped out in front of him, there would’ve been some sort of sign, carnage, tire marks, but we were left with nothing.
Just like I’m feeling. Nothing. Just like what I have right now, nothing.
I’m a teenager with a mom who left before I even had the chance to know what she looked like, and a dad who just died without even saying goodbye. So I’m punching holes in the wall, because at least if I let myself bleed, I let myself feel.
My house is full of people dressed in leather cuts, old ladies in spandex, guys with beards, from every chapter of the Misfits in the state, the usual dog and pony show. Mountain Misfits don’t have funerals. We have wakes. His casket is open for all to see the bloody mess he is, but I don’t look. This is all a dream.
“Brooks, stop it,” Esther says to me, her face streaked with tears. “You’re scaring me.”
“Good,” I tell her. “Go away.”
I can tell she’s drunk as a skunk the way she’s swaying back and forth.
“Doesn’t that hurt?” she asks.
“I dunno,” I tease her. “Try it for yourself.”
She looks at me and stumbles over to the wall. I nod and she winds her fist back. As soon as she makes contact, she screams in pain, shaking her hand, and starts bawling.
It’s the first time I feel something since my dad died. I grab her and hug her in my arms and she just hangs there all limp, like a rag doll, crying her eyes out.
“Esther, I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry; that was so dumb.” I hurt her. I didn’t protect her like I’m supposed to.
“I did it to myself,” she cries. “You didn’t make me. I’m sorry, Brooks.”
Her father, Moses, comes walking down the stairs, clutching something in his hand. A piece of paper. I have no idea what he was doing in my dad’s room, probably looking through his stuff for anything that was club property so he could bury it with him. The two were always close. He’s always been like a second father to me.
He stares at the two of us and I start to feel a little uncomfortable.
“You want a beer, son?” he asks me. “I have to show you something, and I think you’re gonna want a beer.”
Chapter 29
I snap my eyes open, trying to shake the nightmare of one of the worst days of my life. The day that everything in the club started changing for the worse. Esther’s body is spooned up against mine, the warmth of her soft skin pressed up tight to me. The way her red hair is splayed across her face is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. But I’m shaking, trying to catch my breath. I’m rattled.
“What, babe?” she asks, groggily. “Are you having the dreams again?”
It turns out we both have dreams, hers much more violent than mine. There are nights when she thrashes and screams and howls like a crazed woman, and all I can do is let her ride it out. The moment she wakes up and sees me next to her, it’s like she’s fine. She’s calm. She’s smiling. She won’t talk about it, no matter how much I pry.
We’ll get there, but I’m not going to push it. The last month of my life has been damn near picture-perfect, and the fact that we both have our own demons to deal with just comes with the territory. We’re Mountain Misfits. We all have our own crosses to bear. I nuzzle my face into her shoulder and kiss her, and she intertwines her fingers with mine, squeezing them as she drifts back off to sleep.
“Brooks!” a familiar voice booms from downstairs. “The fuck, dude? We’re all waiting on you.”
“Shit,” I groan, squeezing Esther a little tighter in my arms, not wanting to break out of this moment and get my day started.
“Can you stop defiling my sister and get down here? We’re burning daylight.” I must’ve forgot to set my alarm. That, or she shut it off without me knowing. She tends to do that. We’re still in that phase of our relationship where lying in bed all day together is all we want to do. Hopefully that phase never goes away. But it’s going to have to for at least a few days while the boys and I are out on the road.
“Why do you have to go?” she asks as I slide out of bed.
“Because, I gotta get us some money. It’s kind of expensive keeping you clean and fed. I didn’t realize there were so many different kinds of soaps one could need for various body parts.”
“Sorry if I don’t want to rub the bar of soap you use on your balls all over my face,” she teases, sitting up from the bed.
“Oh, you love it when I rub my balls all over your face, and don’t you deny it.” She tosses her pillow at me.
“I’m coming in!” Gavin screams, pounding on the bedroom door.
“Unless you want to see my dick, I don’t think you want to do that.”
“Yeah, or my tits,” Esther shouts.
“You guys are fucking disgusting.”
“And you’re intrusive, Gavin. Go back downstairs and start the coffee,” she urges. I swat her adorable ass as she walks over to her dresser and pulls out some shorts and a t-shirt. “I’m gonna miss you so fucking much. It’s gonna be quiet up here. Just me and the old-timers and Mr. Gingerbread.”
“Why don’t you have the girls come over and stay?” I suggest. I don’t like the thought of her here alone, even though I know she’ll be looked after, but it is prime-time moonshine season, and a few days of work will pay out all year long if we play our cards right. “Or you can come on the road with us. I know the guys won’t care.”
“You need to spend time with them without me. If you’re ever going to take over the club, you can’t be dragging your old lady around with you everywhere you go.” She says these things a lot. About me taking over the club. I don’t know if she realizes that her father isn’t going anywhere right now. And that her brother is likely next in line, but I let her have her thoughts. I’m happy with whatever place I have. As long as I have my family, my bike, my life of freedom, and my woman, I don’t need that sort of title. I’ll happily be sergeant at arms ’til the day I die.
“You’re not just my old lady,” I say, kissing her on the head, wrapping my arms around her waist. “You’re the queen bee, and you know it.”
“I might see if Olive and Sloan want to have a sleepover,” she says. “Ollie’s gotta take care of the bar downtown while Gavin is gone, though, and I think Sloan is filling in for somebody at the hospital. I’ll be fine, babe. I got some paperwork to do at the clubhouse anyway. And I want to get the rest of my stuff from my place moved in. You think my soap collection is out of hand, just wait until you see the amount of lotion I’ve been hoarding over the years.”
“I promise, as soon as I get back, we can throw down a tarp and grease each other up until next Thursday,” I laugh.
She turns to kiss me, lingering in my arms for a minute, and all I can feel is lucky. Lucky as fuck that suddenly our lives are kind of normal, and ultimately right.
We walk down the stairs together. The whole crew has congregated in my kitchen, standing around drinking coffee.
“Did you guys eat breakfast?” Esther asks, pulling out eggs from the fridge.
“Honey, it’s ok; I’ll just grab something quick,” I assure her. She just looks sad. Like she’s trying to prolong this morning as much as she can. “We really need to get going.”
It’s cute the way she wants to care for us, the way she treats these men like they’re hers to look after. The way she feels like everyone is her responsibility.
“How’d you get so lucky, asshole?” Austin teases. “I can’t even get Clutch to stop putting the empty milk carton back in the fridge.”