Never Coming Down

by Deja Voss

  “Oh trust me, there’s not enough decorating in the world that could salvage that slum house. As long as I have a place to lay my head at the end of the day and neighbors with Wi-Fi I can steal, I’m pretty ok for the time being.”

  “Well what do you think this place needs?”

  “I dunno,” she says, running her hands over the granite countertops in the kitchen. “A dog?”

  This woman. She makes me smile. For a girl who literally knows how to perform complex surgeries on a human body, she’s just so simple. And I like it. As far as I know, she likes dogs, eating food, fucking, and me. It’s every man’s dream.

  “I do like dogs.”

  “Good, cuz that’s a deal breaker in my book,” she says. “I think I’d also like to have a garden.”

  “Oh would you?” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist. I can’t keep my hands off her, no matter how hard I try. The rough denim covering her skin isn’t going to last much longer.

  “I mean, hypothetically,” she stutters. “If I were you, I mean…”

  “Oh sure, yeah. I know what you mean. What else do you think? If you were me, I mean.”

  “Hmmm. Bearskin rugs? An outdoor bathtub and shower? A king-size four-poster bed with sheer curtains?”

  “What are you trying to do? Turn my grandpa’s house into some kind of fuck palace?” I toy with the zipper that runs down the front of her dress, pulling it down lower and lower, exposing her perfect round globes. She’s not wearing a bra and I go from zero to maximum overboner the second I notice.

  “I mean with all the ladies you have to entertain, might as well set the tone right out of the gate.”

  “I’m only trying to entertain one lady right now,” I whisper in her ear.

  “Then keep going with that zipper, Gavin,” she pleads.

  “You’re such a good girl, Sloan. Always ready for me,” I say, slowly pulling the zipper further and further down until her dress is hanging there open. “I love the way your panties match your bra.” I eye her exposed pussy, the tops of her thighs already slick with her juices. I’m glad I’m just noticing this no-underwear thing now, because otherwise it would’ve taken everything in me not to bend her over a long time ago.

  “Oh that?” She blushes. “It was kind of a matter of just not having any.”

  “Well I think,” I say, sliding her dress the rest of the way off, letting it fall to the floor, “maybe you should start doing that all the time for me.” I cup my hand around the outside of her mound and give it a few teasing slaps, forcing her to spread her legs just a little wider. Her soft breathy moan lets me know I have her exactly where I want her. Nude, spread, and ready to beg for my cock.

  “You think you could do that for me?” I ask, tapping on her swollen clit with my middle finger. She’s soaking wet, her lips moving, no words coming out, just breathy sighs. “No panties, little skirt, ready for me to bend you over and take you anytime and anywhere I want?”

  I slide my finger inside her slick core and her eyes close. “Please,” she says.

  “Is that what you want, Sloan? You want me to use that needy pussy of yours any time I feel like it? You want to walk around full of my cum all day like my good little slut?”

  “Yes,” she whines. “Please, Gavin. Fill my pussy.” I slide another finger inside her, working her harder, bringing her that much closer to the edge while she grinds into me, her moans intensifying.

  “You love being nasty for me, don’t you?” I slap her ass cheek firmly, her tender flesh jiggling in my hand.

  “Oh my God, Gavin,” she wails. “You’re gonna make me cum!”

  She’s writhing, shuddering, as I give her another slap, her firm skin reddening under my palm.

  “Cum for me, babe,” I growl. “Let it all out for me.”

  Sloan

  He’s making me crazy. Batshit nuts. All the sensations ripping through my body right now, his words, his fingers twisting inside of me.

  It feels so dirty, so wrong, and yet, somehow, I feel empowered.

  As I let myself climax hard on his hand, completely fucking losing it, the way he’s looking at me isn’t like some back-alley whore, but a work of art. He brings his mouth to my pebbled nipple, taking it in, intensifying the waves of pleasure rolling through me, but all I want to do is get on the floor and make him feel just as good as he does for me.

  I pull away, kneeling in front of him, anxious fingers tugging at his belt, pulling on his zipper, yanking down his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop so that I am face-to-face with his glorious erection. He looks down at me with a knowing smile, and I palm his hard shaft in my hand, pumping it up and down, a bead of precum forming at the tip. I lick my lips and begin to take him into my mouth.

  His taste overwhelms me. Spicy and manly, I swirl my tongue as I try to take in his girth.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth.”

  I guide his hand to the back of my head, showing him that I trust him, letting him take the lead, letting him use me however he wants to.

  “Such a good girl,” he growls. “You think you can take it all?”

  I blink up at him with watery eyes, smiling, relaxing my lips around his pulsing cock, taking it as deep as I can.

  He cradles my head and begins to thrust slowly in and out, long strokes, going a little deeper each time. He loses himself in his thrusts, grinding into my face, and I am loving every minute of it, gripping the back of his rock-hard thighs tight in my fingers, running my fingers down the striations in his muscles.

  He grabs onto my hair without warning, wrenching me up off the floor, shoving his tongue in my mouth before turning me over on the countertop.

  As he pounds his hard cock into my still sopping pussy, I squeal, my muscles contracting around him, milking him, squeezing him hard.

  “Cum with me, babe,” he whispers in my ear. “I want to feel you explode on my dick.”

  He doesn’t have to ask twice.

  He strums my clit and I don’t even fight it, just let the feelings tear through me as he holds me onto him, filling me with everything he has. That throbbing twitch that I’m growing to love, our juices combining, he hugs me tight, gasping for air as he moans in my ear.

  “You’re fucking amazing, Sloan.”

  I lean my head back, resting it on his chest, and for some reason all I can do is laugh. I don’t know what it is about him, about this. It’s so different than anything I’ve ever felt before.

  “You’re fucking amazing. It’s like you know every button to push without even asking,” I say.

  “It’s you. You make me this way.” He slides out of me, turning me around to look me in the eye. “Everything about you, Sloan.”

  There’s so much he doesn’t know about me, but right now I feel like that’s ok. Maybe we can just exist in the present. Maybe he’s just what I need to let my past go. Why dredge up something potentially hurtful, potentially painful? Why put myself through reliving that nightmare again. I wouldn’t ask him about all his past relationships. It would just be torture.

  Maybe he can just like me for who I am right now. A doctor, a student, a lover, a woman who has learned more about herself in the past few days than she has in the past twelve years.

  I know I accept him for who he is right now. Even if he does live by his own moral code out here in the wild with his family, he is a good man. He makes me feel safe. He would never intentionally hurt me.

  It’s so much more than I can say about Arthur. So much so, I don’t think I’ll ever speak his name again. I’m free. It’s over. I’m reborn thanks to motorcycles, rough sex, and the man who is currently wiping the tears out of my eyes.

  “Does this happen often?” he asks.

  “What? Crying? No, actually. Never.”

  “You sure?” I realize that that’s twice now he’s seen me cry. Maybe even three times if he caught me on the bike ride to the bar. I have never been a crier, but somethin
g about him just draws it out of me. But it’s not sad. It feels good.

  “You’re just that good, Gavin,” I laugh. “You fuck the tears right out of me.”

  “I thought you were crying because you reality hit you that you’re falling for a basement dwelling biker and your parents are gonna be so mad.”

  “Well first of all, my parents are both dead. Second of all, I thought the basement thing was temporary?” I cringe at how vulgar that comes out, but he doesn’t even seem to notice.

  “What about the falling for me part?”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, hanging my head. “That happened when you fucked me senseless and gave me lasagna. What can I say? I’m fairly easy.”

  He pulls my mouth to his, parting my lips for a long hard kiss.

  “I don’t have lasagna, I’m sorry. But I do have cheeseburgers. Will that do?”

  “Oh yeah, that’s perfect. You know what goes great with cheeseburgers?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Chocolate ice cream.”

  He shakes his head at me. “You better run, girl.” He tosses me my dress from the floor and gives me a loving little pat on the ass. “Master bathroom is upstairs to the left. Meet me outside?”

  With every step, I fall more and more in love with this house. The stairs lead to a giant loft. It’s separated into a few rooms, the only closed walls in the old A-frame. I can’t help but peek around.

  I love the way the cedar wood smells. Rugged and warm like him. There are two small bedrooms side by side and to me it looks like he constructed this place with a family in mind. It makes my heart flutter. I’d never really put much thought into kids, never been in a situation where I thought it would be something I’d want to do, but his presence makes my ovaries scream. Slow down, sister, I think. I still have a little school left to go, and I definitely want to at least establish my career before I think about the maternity thing.

  The master bedroom is huge, open, with floor to ceiling windows and its very own fireplace. The only furniture is a king-size mattress and box spring and a nightstand. Laying on the floor is a worn t-shirt of his. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, this strange primal addiction to everything about him, but I can’t resist just picking it up and smelling it. Leather, lemons, dirt from the earth, everything about his musk makes me insane.

  Instead of changing back into my dress, I decide to slide on the t-shirt. It just feels right. I wander into the master bathroom and smile at what I’m seeing in the mirror. The new Sloan. The happy Sloan.

  Chapter 22

  Gavin

  She wanders into the backyard, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes and a skip in her step and I nearly drop my beer onto the charcoal grill flaming in front of me.

  “What is this?” I ask, eyeing my worn gray t-shirt, barely covering her curvy ass. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  “Am I weird?” she asks. “It’s just so comfy.”

  “I think it’s sexy as hell.” I am at a loss for words that won’t make me sound like a caveman. My jeans are getting tighter by the second. Just when I get myself put together, this woman always manages to make me hard.

  “I just, I like the way you feel on me…” she stutters. “And in me.”

  “I think this is my favorite thing I’ve ever seen you in.” So casual, so natural, she’s absolutely perfect. “You hungry?”

  I pull the burgers off the grill and put them on a plate.

  “Beer?” I offer her a can.

  “Yes and yes. You are the best. Seriously, this is a dream come true. I feel spoiled.”

  “I should warn you, those burgers are venison. Is that ok?”

  “Gavin, they could be opossum. I’m basically a human garbage disposal.”

  “Be careful what you wish for. Plenty of those running around here.”

  We eat, we laugh, I can’t keep my eyes off her body, her every move.

  There’s no bullshit or pretenses. It’s just me, her, the mountains, and the moon rising over the trees. She helps me wash dishes and I try to keep my hands off her ass. It’s like we’ve been doing this for a long time, longer than the few chaotic days since she’s been a part of my world.

  I spend way too much time waiting around for bad shit to happen. It’s in my blood, in my club, in my soul. It’s the way we have to live to defend our way of life. But right now, while we’re sitting on the front porch swing, drinking cheap canned beer and watching the deer creeping out from the tree line, getting ready to feed as the sun goes down, I can only think of the good things to come.

  She’s got her head resting on my shoulder and a contented smile resting on her face. It’s just like I envisioned it. The setting sun illuminates the golden highlights in her hair and she looks angelic. Radiant. Like an angel sent here to save me from myself.

  “When did you know?” she asks.

  “When did I know what?”

  “When did you know you were falling for me?”

  “I knew all along,” I say with total conviction. “I knew the instant I met you. You didn’t ask for anything, didn’t want anything from me, didn’t judge me for who I am or what I do; you just treated me like any other person. I just knew then and there that you were a cool chick and I needed to get to know you better. Then when you started doing all these kind things for me and my family without me even asking you, I couldn’t believe it. You took care of my brother, you took care of my men, and last night when I was so disgusted with myself and so utterly out of my mind, you took care of me. You might not have known it, but I needed you last night. I needed someone to ground me, to bring me back to who I am. Every time I’m with you, that’s how I feel.”

  She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. She’s straddling my lap, her arms wrapped tight around my shoulders our hearts connected in a warm embrace. I hear her stifle what sounds like a sob.

  “I’m so sorry, Sloan. I swear, I don’t ever want to see you crying. Please tell me what I’m doing here so I can stop it.”

  She is smiling, her face wet with tears.

  “Please don’t ever stop it. You make me feel, Gavin. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like you dislodged something deep inside me that I forgot I had. I’m sorry I’m being so emotional. I don’t get to do this. The shit I see on a daily basis at work could break my heart into a million pieces. Eventually you have to learn to disassociate. It’s just flesh and bones and occasionally there’s nothing you can do to put them back together properly. They’re not friends or grandparents or daughters. I guess it just trickles into everything for me.”

  “You can be as emotional as you want. I want all of it. I want all of you, I want to know everything about you so I can do whatever I can to make sure I can do right by you.”

  Sloan

  I need to tell him. He just poured his heart out to me, and I know I’m being a coward by not letting him in further, but I can’t shake my father’s voice in my ear. I’m a fucking nark.

  Maybe not now; I’m older, I’m wiser, and Gavin is nothing like that abusive scumbag, but the thought of having to walk him through all the gory details of my life, when I can just rest here in his lap and watch the sun set is a no-brainer choice. I’m being selfish.

  It can wait.

  What if I tell him and it’s a deal breaker?

  It can wait.

  He can hate me tomorrow. Right now, I just want to kiss him. I just want to be as close to him as I can.

  I trace that bearded face with my fingertips, focusing on every line, every freckle, memorizing everything about him so I can hold on to this moment for as long as I have to. He’s so perfect, he’s so sexy, and right now, I feel like our hearts are connected in ways that I have never been able to understand.

  I kiss him on the lips, no words for what I’m feeling right now. No words that don’t tread into some sort of dangerous territory that will make things move even faster than they are right now. I just want to exist, the two of us, wrapped toget
her on this porch swing for eternity.

  Instead he picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, and carries me inside, up the stairs, through the hall. The way he can just lift me up without any effort at all is so sexy. I’ve never felt this way in a man’s arms before; safe, secure, content.

  He lays me on the mattress, and the way the windows stretch from floor to ceiling, I feel like I’m still outside, the moon shining through the darkness, illuminating the entire room. It’s beautiful and romantic.

  He takes his time taking off his clothes, standing fully nude, fully exposed in front of me. His tattooed chest, his rippled back, the lines of muscle running from his thighs to his perfect ass, every hair, every scar, lit up with the natural light. I take all of him in.

  He takes me swiftly, pulling me on top of him, pulling up my shirt, pressing every inch of our bodies together, our mouths never leaving each other’s. Warm, wet kisses, warm wet friction, slowly and silently, we are what we are meant to be.

  I’ve seen his ugly, but right now, I only feel his beauty. His loving hands caressing my shoulders, calloused fingers running through my hair with more care than usual.

  I’ve opened my body to him, given him full rein, full trust with me inside and out, and he hasn’t let me down. Why can’t I just open my heart?

  We climax together, my toes curling as I moan into his mouth, his hard dick rooted deep inside me as he fills me with his warm seed. As he hugs my body tight against his, lingering inside of me, I feel closer to him than I ever have before. He’s not just inside my quivering pussy. He is a part of me. I’m a changed woman.

  I feel him soften, his body relaxing under me. He’s smiling up at me, grinning from ear to ear. He reaches down and pulls the sheet up over my shoulders as I melt into his chest.

  Soft kisses on the lips fill our little blanket cocoon. It isn’t long before I start to drift off, completely content in his arms.

  “You’re perfect, Sloan,” he whispers in my ear.