Losing Me, Finding You

by C. M. Stunich

  I lean back against the handlebars and look down at the piercing in his cock, wondering if it will feel any different without a condom. Austin doesn't give me time to think about it, groaning and pushing himself into me, splitting me open with hot, hot heat and making my whole body ache with need.

  I don't know if it's the Southern sun on our skin or the blistering heat of the still air, but I swear, Austin feels a hundred times warmer inside of me. I writhe in agony, certain that he's burning me up from the inside out, searing me with his cock. And as promised, I do feel the steel against my insides, rubbing along the length of my pussy with each thrust of Austin's hips.

  My slick wetness coats him as sweat continues to drip down our bodies, making me feel dirty, disgusting and perverted. The worst part is, I love every single second of it.

  “Come inside of me,” I whisper, surprised that those words are actually coming out of my own mouth. Austin laughs, but he doesn't stop, sliding his sweaty hands up my shirt and freeing my breasts from their bra, caressing them roughly and exposing them to the sunshine. I try to focus on the tattoo in the center of his chest, but my gaze keeps getting drawn between us to that spot where our bodies meet.

  “I will, baby, I promise, but slow down, enjoy yourself.” I want to scream at him that I can't. I can't enjoy myself when I'm all wound up and full of tension like this. I let my head fall back and try to remember to breathe. If you don't breathe, you die, but goodness me, is there a better way to go?

  “Austin,” I whisper. “Austin, Austin, Austin.” I can't stop saying it. It's like my voice is no longer my own, consumed by the thrills of pleasure that are spiraling through my body and blinding me.

  “Goddamn, Cross,” he whispers, sliding his hands back down my sides. “You're going to spoil me rotten. This feels so friggin' good. You feel so fucking good.” I grab onto the sides of the bike and find that I'm frozen, that I can no longer move, paralyzed by the feeling of Austin's body inside of mine.

  After what seems like an eternity trapped between heaven and hell, Austin begins to groan, pumping faster and faster and faster until he's throwing his head back and spilling himself inside of me. I scream so loud that my voice echoes around the empty countryside and I collapse forward into the strong, sweaty arms of the world's sexiest biker.

  I take Amy back to the hotel and we climb into bed. It might be the middle of the Goddamn afternoon, but that doesn't mean shit to me. I can't resist another go at that beautiful body. Cross has curves for days, and I can't think of anything better than riding her until the fuckin' sun goes down.

  We don't even talk. I just roll on top of Amy and slide inside of her. She is friggin' drenched, and it takes me a lot less time than it should to come again, spilling my seed inside her heat. I cannot even begin to say how damn good that feels, grinding against Amy's bare body and coming away wet with her. Somehow, I'm now hyper aware of her, too, like she belongs to me and she's on my radar now. I can't say how or why it's happenin', but it started on the back of that damn motorcycle, and it doesn't seem to be letting up. If anything, it's gettin' worse by the minute. Shit. Guess I forgot how nice it was to bang bareback. Damn you, Amy Cross, but I may never use another rubber for as long as I live.

  After we finish, I roll off and hold Amy in my arms, listening to her breathing as it slows and she finally falls asleep. Fuck if I'll be able to drift off now that I'm feeling like this. There's some primal instinct bullshit goin' on that's making me antsy. As soon as I finished inside of her on the back of that bike, I felt like she was mine, completely and wholly.

  I both love and hate that shit.

  Unable to sit still, I force my tired ass out of bed and throw on some clothes, stepping out the door quiet as I can and stomping down the hall to Mireya's room. Somehow, she knows I'm there before I even get the chance to knock.

  “I've been expecting you,” she coos as she steps away and ushers me in, wearing nothing but a lacy corset and some panties. The whole damn room smells like sex, and there's even a man's shirt lying across the back of one of the chairs. I freeze as soon as I hear the shower switch on.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask her, but she doesn't respond, instead skipping over to the bed and smoothing out the blankets, patting the orange comforter like she wants me to sit down. Mireya's eyes flicker up to mine and sparkle, like she can tell I'm pissed off and likes it. Unfortunately, it's not what she thinks. I'm not ticked off because she slept with someone; I'm ticked off because she slept with Gaine. He's the only asshole I know who wears a shirt with such a stupid ass saying. Current Mood: Possessed. That's his alright.

  “What? You get to cart around your very own piece of ass, and I can't even indulge in what's already here?” I roll my eyes to the ceiling and take a big ass breath, pulling in the scent of Mireya's perfume. This time, though, even the sight and smell of her doesn't excite me. My mind just keeps spinning on this continuous loop, going back to Amy again and again and again. Maybe I should borrow that damn shirt because it sure as shit feels like the girl's possessed me. What worries me is that I don't even know her yet. What happens when I do? Am I going to lose my damn mind?

  “Cut the crap, Sawyer. I meant, what the fuck are you doing to Gaine?” She shrugs and leans back, crossing her long, bronze legs at the ankle. A sultry smile tickles her full lips.

  “It's just a fuck, Austin. Get over yourself. Isn't that what Amy is to you?” I ignore the question and pray that I can get myself out of there before Gaine comes out and sees me. Plus, I don't have any real desire to see the asshole naked. Might scar me for life.

  “If you're trying to punish me, Mireya, it isn't working.” She narrows her eyes and pouts out her lips.

  “Punish you? God, Austin, get over yourself. This isn't about you.”

  “Amy then?” I ask, raising my chin. “Is this about Amy? What did she do to make you hate her so much?” Mireya shakes her head and scoffs.

  “Amy? Who the hell cares about fucking Amy!” She screams this last part, and I can tell that there's at least one person that does – and that's her. She really, really does.

  “So you did it, didn't you?” I don't even know why I'm asking. It's pretty obvious from where I stand that Mireya sent the video to Amy's family. Why she did it, I can't even guess.

  Mireya stands back up and tosses her crow-black hair over one ear.

  “Did what?”

  “The video, Sawyer.” I slap the back of my right hand against the palm of my left. “The one that got Amy kicked out of her house, the one that practically forced me to take her in.” As soon as I say those words, I know they aren't really true. I mean, I guess if you looked at it from the outside, it might seem that way, but I don't feel forced with Amy, not even a little bit. I think I like her. A lot. “Did. You. Send. It?”

  Mireya moves across the carpet like a panther, sleek and dangerous and powerful. She's a strong, beautiful woman with a lot to offer, but I'm not in love with her. I love her the same way I do Beck and Gaine and Kimmi – as a friend. Maybe she just isn't getting that? I always thought she did, but then, I guess I never stopped to notice that glint in her eye when she looks at me, the way she smiles, the way she softens her brow when I touch her. Fuck.

  When she stops next to me and slides her hands up my chest, I can see the regret in her eyes. I guess it's probably got more to do with the fact that Amy is here rather than at any guilt she might have for sending the damn thing, but at least it's there. It proves to me that she's a good person inside, just like I always thought she was.

  “Austin, I sent it.” Mireya pauses and nibbles her lip. We both jump a little when the sound of the shower stops. “I sent it because I … I didn't want to lose you.” Shit. I try to take a step back, but Mireya's got her fingers wrapped in the fabric of my shirt.

  “Don't go there, Sawyer. Just don't.”

  “I fucking love you, Austin!” she screams, standing up on her tiptoes and forcing her lips against mine. When I don't respond, s
he pulls away and lets out a guttural growl that draws Gaine from the bathroom in an angry flurry. When he sees me, he just stops and covers his junk with his hands. I barely look at him. “I've … I've loved you forever. Why can't you see that?”

  “Mireya … ” I start, but she isn't listening. She's pacing the floor now.

  “Is it this little white bitch? Do you love her?”

  Mireya stops and stares at me, and I've got nothin' comforting to say except, “Not yet.” She scoffs at me.

  “Not yet? Not fucking yet? Well, how long does it take, Austin, because you and I have been together for ten years and you don't love me. Why is this girl any different?” I have nothing to say to that, so I keep my damn mouth shut.

  “Maybe you should go,” Gaine tells me gently, putting a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off. This is between me and Mireya, and I don't like anybody, anybody, butting in to my business.

  “Mireya, try to calm down.”

  She whirls to face me, eyes burning with fury.

  “Out,” she snarls, spitting on the floor and not caring that we're indoors. “Out, out, get out and don't ever come back. Go run back to your new bitch. If you manage to come back to your senses, come find me. Until then, I don't even want to see your friggin' face.”

  When I finally wake, the sky is pale and the light is weak. It's morning. I sit up when I notice that Austin is gone and wrap my arms around my bare chest. I can feel a phantom warmth along my skin, like maybe he slept alongside me for most of the night. I smile and close my eyes against a flood of images. I can't believe I had sex on the back of a motorcycle. In the middle of the country. With no condom. I shiver and reach a hand between my legs. It's still moist there, like my body can't get enough of Austin and wants to be ready for him. Or maybe that's his seed, spilling out of me, I'm not sure. What I do know is how good it felt to have him bursting inside of me, filling me.

  I fling my feet out of bed to break the thoughts off, certain that I'll never be able to function if I keep imagining Austin and me tangling together in the heat of the afternoon. As soon as I put my full weight on my legs, they start to quiver and I have to put a hand out on the wall to steady myself. Wow. Thank you, Austin Sparks, I think as I force my aching body towards the bathroom. Going from virgin to … nympho in a few, short days has made me so sore down there that it pulses when I move. Which in turn makes me horny. Which in turn makes me think about Austin … I shake my head and pause when I see a note taped to the door of the bathroom.

  The writing that's scrawled across it is long and loopy and drawn out, kind of like that Southern drawl Austin gave me yesterday, put on paper. I smile.

  Got some work to take care of, sugar. Your new cell's on the dresser. It's got all of Triple M's members in the contacts. See ya at sunset. Austin.

  I peel the note off and rub the paper between my thumb and forefinger before turning around and setting it down next to a small wad of cash and a cell phone. My very first cell phone to be exact. Twenty-one years old, born in the height of the digital age and I'm only now losing my mobile device virginity. I wonder what Christy would say if she knew. I stare at the screen for a moment and know exactly what it is that I need to do.

  I dial her number by heart and wait naked in Austin's hotel room, heart pounding, feeling like a different person inside than the one I was a few days ago.

  “Hello?” Christy answers on a whimper. I can hear the tears in her voice with just that one word, and it makes me sick to my stomach.

  “Christy, it's me.”

  Silence.

  “Christy?”

  “What do you want, Amy?” I take a deep breath and try to understand where she's coming from. I didn't tell her the truth, and I left, just disappeared. I left her behind and I deserve whatever it is that she wants to throw at me. I try to perk up my voice, to pretend that things are normal even though it's pretty obvious to both of us that they're not.

  “I just wanted to tell you that I was safe. I'm in a city called St. Marlin's and it – ”

  “I don't care, Amy,” she says, sniffling. “I really don't.” She pauses and the silence stretches heavy between us. “Amy, I … ” Another pause. “Amy, I'm … ” Christy stops talking. “I've got to go. Bye.” And then she hangs up on me, leaving me even more confused than I already was. Something's going on with her, and I'm not there to figure it out, to give her a shoulder to cry on. I tear up suddenly and have to blink back the wetness before it overwhelms me. I've been gone less than forty-eight hours and already, I miss her like crazy. As Sali Bend would say, Men come and go, but best friends are irreplaceable.

  With a sigh, I set the phone down, grab a pair of clean jeans and a white T-shirt and hit the shower. By the time I get out, I'm starving, so I throw my new jacket on my shoulders and my best boots on my feet. When I step into the hallway, I run straight into Gaine. He looks like he's having about as nice a day as I am.

  “Amy,” he says, smiling with thin lips. His forehead looks tight and the bruises on his face are a sickly green color that make him look an awful lot like a zombie. “Off to lose yourself?” I blink at him.

  “Pardon?” Gaine laughs and tilts his head to the side.

  “You look like you need to lose yourself, am I right?” I smile back at him.

  “Maybe you're speaking from your own needs, Mr. Kelley? Would you like to lose yourself?” He laughs at me and shakes his head, running a hand through his dark hair.

  “I think you're right Miss Cross. I'm projecting all over you, just don't tell Austin.”

  “As long as you promise to finish the story about the badger,” I tell him as he hooks his arm through mine. I'm glad I ran into Gaine. I like him, and he seems like a trustworthy sort of man. I suppose that it's better to hang out with him than by myself. I wonder what Austin will think. He didn't seem too thrilled about seeing us together the night before last. I wonder why.

  “Nah, that story's so tired,” Gaine says as he leads me down the hallway and into the elevator. “Let's talk about something else. You, for example. Why the long face?”

  “Tell me about yours and I'll tell you about mine,” I say and he snorts, rubbing at the broken heart tattoo on his shoulder absently, like it's a habit he's developed over time, a way to think more clearly. Mama has a habit like that. She likes to twirl her charm bracelet around her wrist when she needs time to gather her thoughts. I think about her for a moment and realize that I don't miss her. Not yet. I can only assume that I will later, but I know that it'll be nothing like the pain I'll feel if Christy refuses to talk to me again.

  “Tou-fucking-ché,” Gaine says, proving he's got a mouth as dirty as Austin's. “Well, I guess if we can't talk about ourselves, we could talk about other people behind their backs. That always makes for a good time.” We exit the elevator and move through the lobby and out the front doors, into the beautiful sunshine. She's shameless this time of year, always there, always naked and bright and beautiful. I'd be lying if I didn't say I envied her a little, but then, who doesn't respect the sun? It's the center of the universe, after all.

  “Austin,” I blurt without having to think about it. I want – no, need – to know more about him. Before he burns me up from the inside out and consumes me, I have to know. It's a necessity, like air or water or food. “What's he running away from?”

  Gaine sighs and shakes his head, looking down at the hot pavement below our feet. I watch the small chains on his boots rattle as we walk.

  “That's a complicated question there, Miss Cross. There are two answers to that, and I only know one of them.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that he's got a past and a pretty piss poor future. I'm not sure which is worse.” I perk up, intrigued.

  “You mean the things he does for Kent?”

  “Exactly,” Gaine says, guiding me gently to a café across the street with tables situated in the cool shade of an old building. Every person there has a sweating glass of iced tea or lemonade in th
eir hands, making my throat feel tight with thirst. I spent so much time making love – er, fucking – yesterday that I forgot to eat or drink.

  I grab the nearest table and sit down, snatching the menu up in greedy hands.

  “But, see, that's the part I don't fucking know about. I … ” Gaine pauses and his eyes get glassy like he's far, far away from here. “I know what Kent wants me to do, and if it's anything like what he's asking of Austin, it can't be good. I think the man's been skating on God's good graces for the past decade. How long until his luck runs out?” Gaine's talking but not to me, not really. He's speaking his own thoughts aloud, thoughts that have been brewing for a while, way before I ever came into the picture.

  A waitress in a pink sundress comes to take our drink order and snaps Gaine out of his trance. He orders a beer and me, a sweet tea. I am a Southern girl at heart, you know.

  “But his past,” I inquire, taking a sip of my drink as soon as it arrives. Gaine chugs his bottle and orders another immediately. He leans back so far in his chair that I'm afraid he's going to fall over and crack his head open on the pavement, but I say nothing, slipping my jacket off my shoulders and letting it hang on the back of my chair.

  “Well … ” Gaine looks unsure, like maybe he thinks he shouldn't be telling me this. I wave my hand dismissively and try to smile. Austin didn't seem to want to talk about his past yesterday, so who am I to go snooping? I feel ashamed for even trying.

  “Back to the badger story?” I say, but Gaine's face stays dark, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he nurses his beer.

  “I think he'd want me to tell you.”

  “Why?” I ask as Gaine sets his drink down with a groan, rubbing at his arm like it hurts somethin' fierce.

  “Because he's a Goddamn pussy.”

  I jump and try to pretend that I don't notice all the eyes around us swinging inward and focusing on my companion's face.