by Shayne Ford
“Nothing,” I say, peeling off my jeans and my T-shirt.
I spin around, heading to the shower.
He slams the door shut and blocks my access to the bathroom.
“I’m not a mind reader, Senna. If there’s something you need to tell me, you have to spit it out.”
“I can’t tell you,” I say curtly as I try to push him to the side. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to change.”
“No, you don’t,” he barks.
He yanks the robe from my hand and throws it on a chair before he reaches back and pulls his T-shirt off.
“No... No... I’m not doing this,” I say.
“Oh... yes... yes. You’re fucking doing it.”
The belt slips through the loops under my incredulous eyes.
“That’s not how you argue, Jaden.”
“There’s nothing to argue about,” he retorts. “You just said it. You can’t talk. Fine by me. Let’s fuck then.”
He pulls my wrists together when I expect it the least and ties them tight.
“Don’t do this, Jaden.”
“And why’s that Senna?” he sneers at me.
His fingers clip my chin as he locks my eyes.
“You know who I am, Senna,” he growls. “You need to grow up, and stop acting like a girl. Don’t fuck with me as if I’m some fucking teenager. I don’t care if we’re an item or not, but if we fuck and get to tell each other’s life stories, then let's be open about shit. All right?”
I nod.
“Good,” he grunts.
With one move he shoves me into an armchair.
He pulls a pocket knife out of his jeans and slits my bra and panties open. They land on the floor.
“Open your legs,” he barks, my skin burning from his eyes.
I do as I’m told, my legs hanging over the armrests.
My folds part, cold air lapping at my flesh. He throws a glance between my legs, which makes me clench inside.
“You’re like a two-way street, Senna... Going both ways at the same time. You say one thing and feel another.”
He kneels in front of me, his hands curling around my hips as he jerks me closer to him. Losing my balance, I fall on my back–– my knees going up, bent in the air, my wrists tied above my head.
“I so wanted this,” he says and licks the flesh between my folds, his fingers smoothly entering me.
“Ahh...” I moan, and curve my back, rolling my hips toward his mouth.
His tongue strokes my swollen clit, and then he gently bites it. A growl vibrates in my chest.
“This is crazy...” I murmur as he pulls his fingers out and shoves his tongue inside me.
I bring my hands to his head and thread my fingers through his hair.
“Don’t stop...” I growl.
Just as I teeter on the edge, he moves his hands and mouth away.
“Fuck!”
I flip my eyes open and glower at him.
“Don’t you fucking do that, Jaden.”
Smiling, he pulls me upright, bringing my mouth to his groin level.
His zipper goes down. Slowly.
“Are you serious?” I blurt out, not in the mood to get played right now.
He slides his jeans down––teasingly slow, his cock jutting in the air, full and hard.
Just as I part my lips to speak, he shoves two fingers into my mouth. My nostrils flare, my taste buds tingling with pleasure from the scent of my arousal.
“Jerk!” I mumble around his fingers.
He starts to laugh.
“Good girl,” he says as I start to suck them.
He pulls them out and runs them down his cock, coating the smooth skin of his hardness with the moisture of my mouth.
My eyes glue to his glistening shaft.
“You look like you want it,” he says, moving his hand up and down, tossing me a cocky smirk for good measure.
I swallow a snippy remark, dawning on me that this is not the best time to get all clever with him.
“I do. Yes, I do. And I want so much more,” I throw at him. “But you are not willing to give it to me.”
He tilts his head back, his smile withering away.
“Why don’t you try me?”
I wonder how much seriousness his words bear when he brings his hand to my head and interrupts my train of thought.
My tongue flicks out, licking my lips in anticipation.
“Patience is not your virtue,” he says, grinning.
“Not when you leave me hanging.”
“You could do the same thing, sweetheart.”
That’s a hint I have no time to explore and analyze right now, as he slowly traces the seam of my mouth with the tip of his cock, distracting me again.
And then he pulls away.
“You’re an ass,” I hurl at him.
His lips curve into a crooked smile.
“Speaking of which... Where do you keep the lube?”
“I don’t have any. I don’t fuck at home.”
“No longer don’t fuck at home.”
“No longer... Whatever... I don’t have any.”
“Hmm... That’s gonna hurt.”
“No, it’s not. I’m not taking it in my ass,” I say, the conversation going straight into the gutter.
“Oh... You will, sweetie... Sooner or later, you will.”
The silky head of his cock enters my mouth pushing back my retort. My focus shifts in a split second as I start to swirl my tongue around him.
He pulls back, grunting with pleasure, and slowly strokes his length.
My eyes throw daggers at him.
His expression changes, softening his features, as the ghost of a smile tugs at his lips.
“Tell me, Senna. What exactly do you want from me?”
“More. But are you willing to give it to me?” I blurt out.
He cocks his head to the side and weighs me for a second, his grin giving me a hot flash.
“Are you?” he asks.
Slowly, he rakes his teeth over his lip. My pulse speeds up between my legs.
I ponder for a moment.
“Probably not,” I say in a fit of sincerity.
“Cool, baby. Then let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he says stretching a grin.
He cups my face and pulls me toward him. His hips push forward as my mouth slides down his cock.
Moaning, I start to suck him as if I breathe life through his shaft.
“That’s good, baby.”
He tears the belt away from my wrists. My hands rush to his groin eager to touch him.
“You give good head,” he says, his hands caressing my face, then sliding into my hair as I pull him deep into my mouth.
“You’re as dirty as I am. And you have just as much to forget,” he says, serious this time.
With those last words, he scoops me up and carries me to the bed. He lays me on my back, and I open my legs for him, his body sliding smoothly on top of mine.
Spellbound, I fill my sight with his magnetic eyes while he stretches me with his hardness. My hands roll down his back, grabbing his butt while he crashes his lips onto mine, pulling me into a deep kiss. Pleasure rams through me as I lose myself in him. He breaks the kiss, his eyes harboring fire that spills all over me.
A smile rolls to his lips.
“Come for me, baby...” he purrs, his nasal voice carrying a slight rasp.
I close my eyes and welcome him––moans falling from my lips as his body crashes into mine while we ride that high until we fiercely come.
Late at night, we fall asleep, arms wrapped around each other, a good feeling nestled in my heart.
JADEN
“Where are you going?”
Anxiety pulses in her voice.
“Out,” I say, glancing in the mirror.
Tipping my head back, I run my hand through my hair while taking a quick inventory of my black shirt, dark stonewashed jeans, and boots.
She prances around me, her hands on her hip
s, her lips pursed as she takes me in.
I look in the mirror, waiting for her gaze to lift off my ass.
“What do you mean out?” she asks, locking my gaze.
A frown stretches across her brow.
“As in out. What’s so hard to understand?”
She looks at me, intrigued and baffled at the same time, unable to figure out whether I’m serious or not.
“Can I come?”
“Have I invited you?”
She stares at me, completely thrown off.
I cock an eyebrow.
“No...” she says, hesitant.
“Than no,” I say, cold.
“What time will you come back?”
“Don’t wait for me.”
The light dies out in her eyes, her mouth pulling slightly open as her lips begin to tremble. I snatch the car keys from the kitchen counter and head to the garage.
I hurl one last glance over my shoulder, enough to register her pale face, and the worry in her eyes. She looks small in her sweatpants and the cropped top wrapped around her chest.
We lock eyes one more time before I vanish out the door.
Half an hour later, I pull in front of Jill’s.
I stop the car, turn off the ignition and scan the parking lot. Engine running, a police car blocks the entrance, the cops standing on the sidewalk.
I climb out of my ride and swing by them as I enter the building. Swiftly, I skim the crowd inside before I veer to the bar and slide onto a stool.
“Hey. What can I get you, man?” Scott asks, his eyes scanning my face briefly.
“Guinness.”
Within minutes, he sets the beer on the counter.
“The place cleaned up nicely,” I mutter after I take a gulp.
He ticks his chin, motioning to the cops outside.
“Yeah... I saw them,” I say.
“Hey, beautiful.”
A voice I don’t recognize echoes behind me, traveling to my side. I flick my head up and give the woman a quick glance.
“Do I know you?” I ask.
She rests her hand on my wrist, her ample chest brushing my arm. Clad in a skintight dress and high heels that make her a bit wobbly, she gives me a come hither look.
A mane of platinum blonde hair frames her delicate face, blue eyes, and red lips, enlivening her features. She reminds me of a high-end hooker, and if cops weren’t outside, I’d almost believe her.
Her hand slides down onto my arm, smoothly slipping to my thigh. Leaning against me, she brings her lips to my ear as if she wants to tell me something, and then she flicks her hand up and gives my cock a long brush.
I stifle my reaction.
My eyes sink into hers.
“I’m looking for some fun. You’ve come highly recommended,” she says under her breath.
I peel her hand away from my groin.
“Have I?” I sneer, my lips curving into a smirk.
This is not even a subtle set-up.
Brazenly, she slides her fingers back to my fly. I grip her hand and tear it off my groin for the second time.
“You give a new meaning to the public service, darling. Why don’t you go outside and join your colleagues?”
It takes two seconds, and her smile drops from her face. She purses her lips and throws me a vitriolic look before she straightens her back and wiggles her rear away.
“What did she want?” Scott asks.
“She was fishing. A fucking cop.”
I toss my drink back, leave the cash on the counter and take the back exit, rushing out of the establishment.
The air is crisp, a big, sullen moon reigning over the clear, dark sky.
Twenty minutes later, I stop by my house. The place is sunk in darkness. I park the car next to the sidewalk, and for a few moments, I just sit there, lights and engine turned off, staring at the house as if I look at an old postcard from the past.
For years, I watched this place crumbling, switching from days of joy and light to nights of sorrow and despair. Stripped of all the good things that once had made its heart, the place died a silent death. Nothing could’ve warned me back then, that I’d change with it–– crumble with this place. That I’d get broken, torn apart and put together by the darkness, not the light.
As a teenager, I was a curious, and trustful, confident, and eager to learn. The world belonged to me back then. I was loved, and love made me feel safe. It also made me dream big. I had so many ideas I wanted to explore and so many questions I wanted to ask and so many dreams as I imagined how my future would look like. I wasn’t shy, and I was far from perfect. I was naughty and got up to some serious mischief, but I never crossed the line.
I spent time at home whenever I could. I read a lot and drew a lot. I also liked sports and girls, and I had a bunch of friends. Jacob was like a brother to me.
We’d buddy up, and do a lot of things together, teasing Sara by keeping stuff secret from her. That changed a lot later on, when we all grew up, and she captured Jacob’s heart.
He was the first man she had and loved, and she was his first love and the only woman. Their story was so beautiful it belonged in a book.
Then everything came crashing down...
When my dad died, a dark shadow fell over the world. I didn’t cry–– I couldn’t, but my heart drowned in madness. The world I so much loved let me down and crushed me while teaching me the harshest lesson.
Permanence is an illusion.
It also broke me to see my mom’s life shift for the worse. It killed me to see her dying, little by little, every single day. She didn’t have enough strength to pull herself back up. No faith was left in her, and that’s how her life got off the rails.
She made a bunch of bad choices that destroyed her life and impacted us, unknowingly, walking toward a brutal ending.
It took me a while to get a grip on that reality.
For the most part, I felt guilty because I couldn’t help her mend her heart. Desperation tore through me when I realized she was forever lost to us. That warm, vibrant woman who raised us was no longer with us. She died the same day my father did.
I can only imagine the pain she must’ve felt, and the remorse, knowing that she’d leave us behind.
I got a taste of that pain. I know how deep it goes, and how deadly it can be. I know how hard it is to cope with it.
I never blamed her. And I was never angry with her.
The rest came easily.
Once the world started to crumble around me, I became numb and ready to roll with my new life.
I didn’t care much for anything. I no longer had much to lose, or at least that’s what I thought back then.
When that man touched me for the first time, it didn’t feel as if he was the one who messed me up. I was already screwed up. It didn’t stir the slightest emotion in me. It didn’t make me feel less than I was.
Besides, I was already gone.
There was no connection between my soul and the external world. It was all shattered.
He didn’t hurt me.
He couldn’t have hurt me since I was no longer there.
I knew I had to help Sara, and later on Emma, and I did my best to protect them. They were my only family. I loved them with all my heart, but my feelings were bittersweet because once you have your deep love for someone ripped apart, you never dare to love that way again.
The fear that one day I could lose them too stayed it me, regardless of how irrational that feeling was.
Jacob’s accident did nothing but to cement my belief. And that was the end. From that point on, I never let myself love fully again. After a while, I learned to live without that feeling.
And everything got simpler, really––to sell my body and let the men touch me to satisfy their hunger. To get into fights and experience pain so I can feel alive. And last but not least, to be ready to leave everything behind at a moment’s notice. I’ve been living on the fringe, prisoner of my fucked up life for some time now.
It wasn’t something I could share with anyone else. Not even with Sara. Especially Sara, who had to mend her own heart.
Luckily, she’s past that heartache, and now she has a future to look forward to. She has her education, and she has Emma. Perhaps she’ll find another man some day.
For me, there’s not much left. A pile of memories and dust. Why would I bring that crap to someone else’s heart?
I shift my gaze up and down the street. The sidewalks are empty, sparse lights coming from the lampposts.
I step out of the car and stride to my old place. A few stairs latter, I unlock the door and walk into the house.
Most of the furniture, clothes and Emma’s toys are already at the other place. I gather a few paper pads, all filled with the drawings I made for Emma. I collect a few more toys and empty a drawer of bakeware. I shove everything into a duffel bag and a box and slip out the door.
Swiftly, I lock the door and saunter back to the car.
A few moments later I pull out of the driveway, death, and sadness looking at me through the small, dark windows of the house.
It feels as if I just left a graveyard.
8
JADEN
“You’re the only person who likes to bake in the middle of the night,” I say, pitting cherries and eating every other one.
Sara’s eyebrows knit in a frown as she glances at the fruit.
“That’s all I have for the pie.”
“Got it,” I say, popping another cherry into my mouth.
She takes the bowl out of my hands and slides it to her side.
“It relaxes me,” she says. “You’re here. Emma’s sleeping. What else is there to do if not bake a pie?”
Smiling, she takes a rolling pin and smoothens the dough out on the table before she lines a pie pan with it. It’s warm in the kitchen, and smells like cherries and vanilla, reminding me of home, my childhood, and my mother.
“I miss being with you and Emma,” I mutter.
Her eyebrows lift, a baffled look sliding onto her face.
“Trouble in paradise?”
I lock her eyes briefly.
“No.”
She places the cherries on the dough and sprinkles them with sugar. Then she creates an artful lattice from ribbons of dough on top of the fruit.