by Rachel Jonas
By lowering his boxers to his thighs, and then taking him into my mouth.
“Shiiiiit.” It sounds like every ounce of air just left his lungs, only for them to fill again when a breath hisses through his clenched teeth.
His fingers tangle in my hair and I grip his waist, taking him in deeper. When he starts mumbling incoherently, sounding dazed, I take that to mean he’s enjoying this. Seeing as how he’s made me forget what year this is on several occasions, I’m more than eager to return the favor.
“Damn, Southside.”
Hearing him groan those words, I peer up and take in his expression, only to find his obsessive stare already locked on me. He’s enjoying the show, so I give him one. My lips slide down his length like before, but I take him in a little deeper. Then again, and again, and again. Until I sense he’s had about all he can stand if I want him to last.
He’s so hard, and by this point, my own needs are calling so loudly I can’t wait any longer. It’s that insatiable craving that has me on my feet again, stepping out of the expensive dress a moment later.
West strips down too, taking a condom from his pocket before grabbing a clean towel off the rack mounted to the wall. He uses it to cover a chair beside the pool before dropping down into it. I stare with the same obsession I’ve seen in his eyes while impatiently waiting for him to sheathe himself. Then, he guides me down onto his lap, slipping in with ease because I’m so damn wet for him.
A needy groan falls from his lips as I ride him like there’s no chance someone can find us here. Like there aren’t hundreds of kids right down the hall. Yeah, it’s a big risk, but it’d be a lie if I said that doesn’t turn me on even more.
Holding both sides of West’s face, I kiss him slow and deep, riding him to the same rhythm. His thickness has me wanting to come already, but the unhurried pace helps a little.
Very little.
“Do you have any fucking idea what you do to me?” he asks, breathing the question over my lips when we finally come up for air.
“Tell me.”
He grips my ass and I grind into him.
“You make me insane,” he confesses. “I’ve thought about murdering every motherfucker I’ve ever caught looking at you.”
I smile a little, but mostly I’m focused on how good his body feels against mine. His hands slip back up to my hips, thrusting himself deep inside me. It can’t be healthy for my heart to be racing this fast, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it, because my heart is his. He controls it.
“I don’t want anyone else,” he confesses. “Ever.”
That word rings inside my head, ricocheting off all the emotional baggage, all the emotional walls I’ve built. The ones that, at times, have made it hard to imagine someone loving me forever.
But I didn’t mishear him. He said ‘ever’.
As in, I’m the last one he ever sees himself with.
As in… I’m enough.
My chest swells with a breath and I can’t help but stare at him, knowing he just meant every word he spoke. There’s this unmistakable sincerity in his eyes that won’t let me believe otherwise.
This moment has us in sync, one’s body moving in tandem with the other’s, until we’re both climaxing and, for me, it’s the most emotionally-charged experience I’ve ever had.
The high slowly subsides, but I still hear that word.
Ever.
It has me looking into West’s eyes again and he doesn’t shy away, because those weren’t just words he threw out in the height of passion. They’re what’s in his heart, what he feels when he looks at me.
I’ve had a lot of titles, been a lot of things to a lot of people, but as the days pass and I get to see more of the man beneath the mask, being West Golden’s girl might possibly be my favorite.
Chapter 21
BLUE
“There. Done.”
I stand back and look at the two suitcases I’ve packed to capacity, feeling like a superhero for having actually gotten this done tonight. Sure, I’m exhausted from the dance and… other activities, but I can always sleep on the plane.
“Good for you, but let the record show that I finished an hour ago,” West gloats through the phone.
I smile and stick out my tongue as if he can see it. “Everyone knows boys only pack a pair of boxers, a stick of deodorant, and one change of clothes. So, if that’s something you’re proud to call a win, then so be it.”
He laughs softly into my ear and I drop down onto the bed.
“Have a good time tonight?” he asks, which causes flashes of our evening to flood my thoughts.
“I had the best time, actually. Thanks for making me feel normal.”
He’s quiet on the other end and now I’m thinking about the pool. Or, more specifically, the words he said to me while we were there.
“I can’t wait for the plane to land,” he says with a sigh. “You’re gonna love the bayou.”
“You don’t have to convince me. I just want to get out of here.”
I hadn’t meant that to be funny, but West laughs again.
“I don’t think any of us can. My family’s gonna love you, though. Just brace yourself to be hugged to death by some of my aunts, and they’ll probably ask you a million questions. If I know my grandfather, he’s planning some kind of gathering for when we first get there.”
The thought of it makes my heart beat just a little faster. “How many people are we talking?”
West chuckles. “We’ll just say a lot, but like I said, they’ll love you.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“What’s not to love?” he reasons, which has me grinning like a child.
“Guess I’ll just take your word for it.”
He yawns before speaking, which makes me yawn. “Relax. The best part is, no Vin.”
The very idea of that has me feeling lighter. “Thank God for small favors.”
“I’d consider that a big favor,” West counters.
He isn’t wrong.
The line goes quiet again and I imagine he’s deep in thought like I am, maybe going over all the B.S. we won’t miss while we’re away from this place.
“Fuck it,” West seems to say to himself, which makes me snort a laugh. “I’m just gonna say it, and if I scare you, just forget I brought it up, but I think we should make a pact.”
“You had my attention at ‘fuck it’,” I tease.
“It’s no secret that we’ve both got shit parents,” he begins. “With the exception of my mom, I guess. Maybe. Anyway, I think I came up with a plan. Way, way in the future, we should agree to have a shitload of kids and just be the best fucking parents ever.”
I’m laughing again, and also a little shocked. One, because he’s planning so far ahead for us. And two, because this is the first time he’s ever mentioned wanting a family in the future. I guess I just didn’t realize he made plans beyond college and football.
“I like that idea,” I answer, feeling my cheeks warm at the thought of it—us spending our lives together, parenting together. “But what exactly do you mean by a ‘shitload’? Because, as the one who’d have to push out this shitload, I’m a bit concerned.”
“Don’t be,” he reasons. “Seven or eight should do it.”
I cough out a laugh before remembering Scar’s asleep down the hall. “No way, buddy. Three’s the limit.”
“Four,” he counters.
My smile broadens. “If you promise to wait on me hand and foot through it all, you have yourself a deal.”
He doesn’t even pause to think about it. “That’s easy. Deal.”
My heart flutters just imagining it, being with him forever, having a family together. For half a second, it makes me sad because I’m still seeing our circumstances as an obstacle we might not overcome. But then, this dream of a future gives me something I don’t expect.
Something more to fight for.
“I love you, West Golden.” I say it simply because it feels like I�
��ll explode if I don’t.
“I know,” he counters, “but nowhere near as much as I love you.”
Staring at the ceiling, I’m still fantasizing about this picture he’s painted in my head when he speaks again.
“Just as a heads up, when we get to my grandfather’s place, I plan to tell him everything,” West admits.
I’m admittedly curious why he’s decided this.
“You really think that’ll make a difference?” I ask.
“Well, there’s no way of knowing for sure, but he’s pretty well connected, and he hates Vin. So, at the very least, he’ll be motivated to help if he can. I just think it wouldn’t hurt bringing him up to speed, then hearing his perspective.”
I’m quiet, but only because I’m thinking. “Okay. If you think that’s best.”
“I do. The worst thing that could happen is he doesn’t know anything more than we do.”
“I trust your judgment,” I say, yawning into the receiver.
“You should get some sleep. We have to be at the airport in five hours,” West reminds me.
I glance at the time. It’s already two. “Yeah, I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“We’re gonna grab Joss first since she’s closer, then we’ll be at your place around six. Sound okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, we’ll be ready.”
Damn, I’ve got butterflies just thinking about leaving so soon.
“Didn’t you set the alarm?” he asks.
Laughing, I roll my eyes. “Yes, Dad, I set it.”
“Mmm… you sure about that? Because I’m looking at the app right now and it says otherwise.” He’s being cynical and it makes me want to punch him. Gently, of course.
I pull the phone away from my ear and put it on speaker to check for myself. Sure enough, it says it’s disarmed, but I know I set it.
“Looks like it turned off about ten minutes ago,” he adds, sounding slightly on edge now. “Does anyone else have the code?”
“No. Just me and Scar.”
“I’m on my way,” he rushes to say, sounding like he’s already out of bed and changing clothes.
My chest feels tight and every breath I take comes and goes just a little too quickly. Without hesitating, I’m on my feet and headed toward the closet. It’s where the gun is stashed, but I never thought I’d actually have to touch the thing again. It was just for peace of mind, but apparently that assumption was wrong.
With shaky hands, I lower the box. Despite this being the last thing in the world I want to do right now, it’s what I have to do. I have it loaded quickly—thanks to Mike’s instructions—then I move toward my bedroom door.
“Stay put until I get there,” West urges, but that’s not even an option.
“I can’t. I have to at least get to Scar,” I whisper, feeling dizzy from how quickly blood rushes through my veins.
“Fine,” he huffs, brimming with frustration and fear. “Go, then lock yourself in her room. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
The next thing I hear is his engine revving in the background, then tires screeching over pavement.
I turn the doorknob and peer out into the darkness. I hear nothing, but that doesn’t settle my nerves. The only reason I’m even able to put one foot in front of the other to leave my bedroom is because I need to get to my sister.
My steps are feather light as I make my way to her door, and the moment I reach it, I turn the knob and rush to her bed. My plan is to quietly wake her, but when I feel my way through the dark space and attempt to shake her shoulder, my hands sink into an empty mattress.
“She’s gone,” I say into the phone, feeling air rush in and out as I pant.
“What?”
“She’s not here, West!”
Gripping my hair, I do a complete three-sixty before thinking to check her closet, the bathroom. Maybe she heard something and got spooked and the first thing she thought to do was hide. However, when I check those places, no longer being careful about keeping the noise down, I find nothing.
Instinct has me checking her window, but it’s locked. Next, I go to the back door and snatch it open. There, in the snow, I spot two sets of fresh footprints.
“Someone’s been here,” I whisper into the phone. “I’m going out to see where they went.”
“Like hell you are! Stay in the fucking house, Southside.”
The stern tone he’s taken with me means nothing, because… where the fuck is Scarlett?
“I’m going. I have to.” I stare out across the yard, getting up the nerve as the weight of the gun in my hand becomes ten times heavier.
“Just stay where you are,” West argues.
“I can’t. If she’s out there, I have to at least check.”
With no time left to hesitate, I slide both feet halfway inside whatever sneakers were left by the door, then make my way out into the freezing cold. It hits my bare legs where my shorts stop, feeling like razor blades slicing through my skin.
Focusing on the tracks, I follow them to where they stop at the side door of the garage. This is when I notice there’s an orange extension cord connected to the receptacle box, and then wedged beneath the weatherstrip. I know it wasn’t like this the last time I checked. At any rate, it’ll be pitch black inside, so I lower the phone from my ear and turn on its flashlight. God only knows what I’ll find when I open this door, but I brave it anyway.
I kind of have to.
Chapter 22
BLUE
“Blue!” Scar screams.
“Shit!” That little gem came from Shane.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me, Scarlett! I thought someone took you!” Before she can spot it, I hide the gun behind my back.
She doesn’t answer as her face reddens and she scrambles to find her clothes. I’m not sure if I’m more angry or relieved to find that those footprints were just my dumb-ass sister sneaking around with Shane.
Again.
Luckily, they were hidden behind a stack of boxes, so I’m not assaulted by images of his junk while he pulls up his pants. They even set up a heater to keep warm while they… did their business, which means they put thought into this. Planned it. Guess that explains the extension cord underneath the door.
Realizing the only thing to fear here is the contagious stupidity, I discreetly tuck the hidden gun in the back of my shorts.
“I want you both inside. Now!” I say sternly, glaring at them because are you fucking kidding me? Again?
Crunching snow beneath my feet, I take my frost-bitten ass back inside and put the gun away before heading to the living room.
“I’m pulling up,” West says through the speaker, reminding me I have him on the line. With my sister giving me the shock of a lifetime, for the second time in my lifetime, I’d forgotten.
“Unlocking the door now. Just let yourself in.”
We hang up then and I unlatch the door before dropping back down on the couch and shooting Ricky a text.
Blue: You up?
Ricky: Yeah, I’m still out. Everything good?
Blue: Not exactly. You should get over here. We have a problem.
Ricky: What is it?
Blue: Your brother’s here…
Ricky: Shit. I’m on my way.
I throw my phone down on the couch and I’m seething with anger when the two offenders finally waltz in through the back door. Not even ten seconds later, West comes in through the front.
“Sit,” I snap, aiming the words right at Scar and Shane.
They do as their told, settling beside one another on the carpet. West doesn’t say a word as he lowers to the cushion beside me, warming my freezing cold thigh when he sits close. Shortly after that, there’s a knock at the door and I don’t need to ask who it is.
“Come in.”
West peers up after I speak, looking to see who else decided to join this impromptu powwow. When Ricky walks in I take note that there’s slightly less disdain in either’s eyes when they meet one a
nother’s gazes. But then, as if I haven’t had enough shocks tonight… they nod at each other? As in, they kind of greet each other?
What the hell is that about? When did they start being cordial?
While thoroughly weirded out by whatever these two have going on, I’ve got bigger fish to fry. My gaze whips back to Scar and Shane.
“What the hell were you two thinking? You’re fifteen years old!”
“And you were, what, sixteen when you and Ricky started screwing? What’s the difference? Where do you think I even got the idea to go to the garage? I used to hear you guys out there all the time!” she yells, clearly trying to make this as awkward for me as it is for her.
Really, Scar? In front of West? Thanks.
I ignore the personal jab and stay focused.
“The difference is, I didn’t have a big sister ready and waiting to beat my ass over it! I didn’t have someone looking out for me, telling me to slow the fuck down, but you do,” I remind her. “So, slow the fuck down, Scarlett!”
“You think you’re so perfect,” she hisses, crossing both arms over her chest.
I don’t even justify that with a response. She knows it’s a lie. No one will admit their flaws more readily than I will.
“You gave me your word you two were done with this,” I remind her. “When did a promise between us stop meaning something? What changed?”
She breathes deep and eyes Shane before speaking.
“What changed is… he’s leaving,” she reveals. “He just told me tonight.”
I don’t miss how her voice breaks a little while getting those words out.
Now, I’m wondering if I was wrong. Maybe Shane’s distance wasn’t that he was into someone else, but rather that he was starting to pull away from Scar because he knew he’d be gone soon. I could relate. The thought crossed my mind when I got spooked by Vin.