by James, Gemma
I sent a sideways glance at Jax. Dried blood lingered around his nose, and his right cheek was red from my fist. He had both hands locked on the steering wheel, eyes focused straight ahead. We hadn’t said two words since we’d left Perrone’s estate.
He claimed we were like brothers, and he had gotten us out, even if it was several days too late. Fuck, he shouldn’t have let them take us in the first place. I studied the profile of his face.
“You still don’t trust me,” he said.
“Kinda hard to.”
“Cleft was my cousin, my fucking blood, and I shot him.”
If he hadn’t done what he’d done, Alex and I wouldn’t be in this van with him. “Why’d you shoot him? I mean fuck. You didn’t even hesitate.”
He glanced at Alex in the rearview. “Let’s go inside. Take care of her first and get some rest. We’ve got time to deal with shit.”
“You’re stalling.”
“Maybe.” He let out a breath, and it drifted through his hair. “But I think we could all use some rest. We won’t have room for error when we go after my old man.”
“You got a plan?”
“Possibly. Actually,” he said, opening the driver’s side door, “you gave me an idea back there, when you wanted to go all Carrie on the old man’s estate.”
He never referred to him as his father or dad. Always old man. Considering what Perrone was capable of, I guess I didn’t blame him. I shoved my door open before sliding the back door to the side so I could reach Alex. She stirred but didn’t wake.
Wedging my arms underneath her body, I lifted and cradled her against my chest. She wound her arms around my neck, mumbling something incoherent in her sleep. The fact that she felt safe enough to let her guard down blew my mind.
She trusted me with her life. But was she wise in trusting me with her heart?
Fuck, I hoped so.
Jax climbed the steps to the front porch of the small house nestled deep in the woods. The nearest highway was at least twenty miles away. We’d come in on a county road, then a long dirt driveway that seemed to go on forever. I wasn’t sure I could find my way out of here, if I needed to, and that made me nervous. But at least it wouldn’t be easy for others to find us…unless this was a trap.
Knock it off.
They’d had us right where they wanted us. If not for Jax busting us out, we’d still be locked in that dark underground hole, practically buried alive. Fuck, it sure had felt like it. I shivered at the thought, my pulse racing upon remembering the blackness, the dripping faucet…wait. There hadn’t been a dripping faucet in that room. The pipes in the tunnel, yes, but not in that cell.
I hated this—the absence of memory. A piece of my identity was missing, hiding underneath the layers of my fucked up mind. Every now and again, a small nugget escaped and confused the heck out of me.
Jax handed me a key. “That’s your copy. The place is already stocked, and the money’s in the safe. Most of it is yours. I contributed what I could from working for your brother.”
I shook my head as he jammed his key into the lock and turned the handle. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
“I know.”
Alex clutched my hair, and her warm breath breezed across my neck. “We here?” Her voice was heavy with sleep.
“Yeah, baby. We’re here.”
“I need a shower.”
I wasn’t surprised that was her first priority. She probably couldn’t wait to wash off the memories of that place from her skin. Jax pointed down the hall. “There’s two bedrooms, each has a bath. Yours is on the right.”
I cast a glance around the place. The living room was tiny with a futon and matching chair. The kitchen seemed even dinkier on the other side of the bar that separated the space from the living area.
“Does any of this look familiar?” he asked.
None of it sparked a thing.
“No, sorry.”
Why was I apologizing to him? He’d done so many fucked up things, yet at the very core of my being, I trusted him.
He headed toward the small kitchen, and I was tempted to follow, to demand he tell me what I wanted to know, but Alex needed me. She clung to my neck, as if loosening her grip would mean she’d crash to the floor and shatter.
I hesitated, indecision freezing my muscles. This was stupid. He’d busted us out. No one was coming to drag us back. We all just needed a little time to adjust.
Jax pulled a bottle of vodka down from a cupboard and parked his ass on a stool at the bar. He poured the clear liquid straight down his throat.
And that was that. He wanted to be alone with his bottle of misery.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, I ventured down the hallway, pushing the door on the right open with my foot. The bedroom was surprisingly spacious, considering the size of the rest of the house. A large king-sized bed, four posters and all, dominated the room. My gut clenched. Instinctively, I knew why that bed was important. No matter where we ended up, I’d always need a place to restrain her.
It was ingrained in me.
I set Alex on her feet, and her quick intake of breath told me she understood the significance too. She stepped forward and let the hoodie slide from her shoulders, forgotten on the hardwood floor. I spotted an ajar door to the left.
“Bathroom is that way.” Placing a hand on the small of her bare back, I pushed her toward the one place she needed. The place where she could hide and let it all out, safe in the shower as the water washed away the last few days.
I searched the wall and switched on the soft light, thankful it wasn’t too bright. Our eyes had become accustomed to pitch-black. The sunlight today had been a glaring ball of pain in my eyes.
The bathroom ran long and narrow, and a large tub sat front and center. Alex backed into me, her breaths coming in quick gasps.
I wound my arms around her midsection and nudged her neck with my nose. “What is it?”
“I don’t take baths.”
“How come?”
She let out a half-laugh, half-snort. “I just don’t.”
I wanted to push for what she didn’t say, because I was sure she was keeping something to herself, but for now, I let it slide. This whole day was surreal, especially this moment as she stood naked in my arms, staring at a bathtub as if it would jump out and drown her.
And that’s when it hit me. Water.
I kept forgetting. I knew she couldn’t swim, and I remembered how fucking terrified she’d been when Zach had pushed her into the pool when she was younger, but I’d had no idea her fear extended to a simple tub of water.
Then again, she’d found her mother dead in a bathtub.
Maybe I had known all of this. Maybe I’d even used it against her. I’d definitely played on her fears by holding her captive on the island.
“You’re safe here. You don’t have to use the tub. There’s a shower over there.” I pointed around the corner, not sure how I knew, but I did.
We shuffled past the tub and turned, and sure enough, the nook opened into a shower stall. Alex crossed the threshold and turned on the water, but she didn’t step into the spray.
“Do you wanna be alone?” I didn’t want to leave her, but if she needed space, time on her own to process and let it out, I’d give it to her. Besides, I was itching to strangle answers from Jax. He needed to start talking, and people armed with booze tended to have loose lips.
“I don’t want you to go.” Her naked vulnerability gutted me.
Everyone coped with trauma in their own way—I knew that better than anyone. My psyche had chosen to block it from my mind. But shit, I wanted to be her rock, the one she clung to for support and safety. I wanted to puzzle over her pieces until I found where they fit.
Fuck, Jax could wait.
“Tell me what you need, baby.”
“I just need you.”
18. ONLY YOURS
Alex
The spray of the shower sluiced over my skin. I closed my eyes,
feeling his intense stare on my body, and let the water run over my head in hot rivulets, but nothing could wash away the blood. It clung to my mind, just like the musty scent of that tunnel burrowed several layers beneath my skin.
I slid to the tile, and my arms snaked around my knees. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I wanted him to take the lead, to come inside and take me the way he should have in that fucking cell. I wanted him to take away the pain. I clawed my arms, chewed my lip, squeezed my eyes shut.
A zipper sounded, and clothing rustled. A soft thud landed by my feet before he slid to the floor behind me and dragged my ass to his groin. He engulfed me in the shelter of his arms and legs.
“Let it out, baby. Scream, cry, do whatever you need. Just let it out.”
“I want to hurt myself.”
He stiffened. “You’re not fucking hurting yourself. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
I grasped his arm and held on tightly. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Alex,” he warned.
“No!” I struggled against the cage of his body, but it was fruitless. He was too strong. Slumping against him, I sighed. “Stop holding back. You’re scared, I get it. But I’m scared too. We’re sitting in a shower naked, Rafe. You can’t get any more intimate than this.”
“Intimacy isn’t what I’m worried about.”
“We’re gonna wake up tomorrow, or the day after, or whenever we can bear to crawl out of bed, but for right now, I just need you to fuck me.”
“Why?” he whispered in my ear, his lips soft and warm and wet against my lobe.
“Only you can take it all away.” Reaching behind me, I wedged a hand between us and rubbed his cock. Immediately, it sprang to life against my palm. He couldn’t help but groan. I swirled my thumb over the head and spread the moisture collecting at the tip.
He pushed upright, bracing his back against the tile, and pulled me with him. He whirled me around, bringing us face to face, and shoved me against the opposite wall.
“I know you’re hurting right now, probably in shock. There’s no easy way to get through what we’ve just escaped.” He planted his hands on either side of my face, and his chest rose and fell quickly. “I want inside of you, but not tonight.” He pushed away from the wall. “Tonight, I want you to crawl in bed and sleep as much as you need.”
The burn of tears threatened, and panic bubbled up. I wasn’t ready to let them out yet. Somehow, those hot, salty drops would make it all real. Cement it in history. I blinked, reaching out blindly, and planted my palms on his heaving chest, smoothing down his abs before lowering to my knees.
“Alex?”
The cold floor numbed my skin. “Let me do this,” I whispered, my lips nearing his arousal. They’d forced us into this just days ago. Now, I needed to make a new memory. I slid my mouth over his tip, tongue laving the underside.
“Alex…fuck. I’m powerless here.”
That was all the encouragement I needed. I impaled myself on his shaft then worked my way back down the length, my tongue circling the head before I pulled away with a pop. I clasped my hands at the small of my back and peered at him. “Take it back.”
“Take what back, baby?” His fingers brushed my cheeks, slid into my hair, and pushed the soggy strands from my face.
“What they took. Take back control. It’s yours, not theirs or Zach’s. Only yours.”
He tugged me toward him. “This is what you want?”
I wanted him to remember. I wanted him to unleash the beast inside him, the one that didn’t give a shit about what I wanted. But I was also scared of him remembering. What if this soft side of him, the side I was falling even more in love with, completely disappeared? Was it too much to want the whole man?
“I want you. No, I need you. I don’t care what’s happened. That might sound heartless, but God…please, Rafe. Take it all away.”
He let out a rough breath. “Then open your mouth.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Don’t tell me what to do. Make me do it. You once told me that you had some fucked up fantasies. I want them. I want you to take what you need from me. I want you to strip me of everything so I can think of you and not that fucking dark place.”
He tugged me by the hair, bringing my mouth to his cock, and nudged my lips. I pressed them together, wanting him to force his way in. He slid his tip along the seam of my lips before slapping my cheek in silent command, then he pushed against my tongue and made me hold still for several seconds. Warmth flooded the aching spot between my thighs, and my nipples hardened into tingling buds.
“Is this making you hot?” he asked in a breathless whisper.
My moan vibrated around his shaft, and he rammed all the way to my tonsils until I gagged uncontrollably. Pressing a hand on my throat, he massaged where his cock nestled.
The way his breathing filled the shower excited me, made me even wetter, and his raspy groans drove me up the wall in wanting him. He was so close to coming, just from having my mouth wrapped around him.
This was the part I craved, the reason I freely gave him the reins. In taking power, he was giving it back—in the way he dove over the edge at the touch of my mouth, the sensual slide of my tongue. In the way he took what he wanted, yet cherished the gift all the same.
He slipped out, then shoved in again. “I don’t wanna come in your mouth,” he said, words a hoarse plea colored by desperation. “I want inside you, your legs spread. I want you fucking begging for it.” But his control snapped, and he pistoned his cock down my throat, each downward thrust bringing him closer to the point of no return. My gag reflex kicked in again, fueling his fire.
Rafe became an uncaged animal, his reservations tossed to the side, all sense of guilt forgotten. He fucked my mouth with abandon. My heart raced behind my breastbone, and I pulled air through my nose, willing my throat to relax under the onslaught of his cock.
“Oh fuck…” He pulled out and yanked me to my feet, and his mouth crashed onto mine, his tongue conquering, dividing my lips and demanding entrance.
I severed the connection, inching back as my rapid breaths fanned across his mouth, and wondered if he liked the taste of himself on my lips. “You didn’t finish.”
“Your mouth is fucking amazing, but it’s not what I want.” He lifted me, urged my legs around his waist, and water rained over us as he pushed me against the wall again.
Then he slammed into me, plunging so deep he reached the center of my soul. I clawed his shoulders, and the wantonness inside me unraveled as he stretched me, filled me.
With his body, his spirit, his whole being.
“God, Rafe,” I said, lips teasing his earlobe. “You belong there. Don’t ever leave me.”
A moan caught in the back of his throat, and he fastened his mouth on mine again. He held me to the wall and sought control by seizing my wrists and raising them above my head. I tasted desperation on his tongue, and it zinged through my veins until I fought the band of his fingers.
I yanked my lips from his. “Let me touch you.”
He freed my wrists and wrapped both hands around my neck. The action stunned him. I saw self-disgust in his eyes but also the overwhelming need to take my breath. This wasn’t the gentle pressure of a few minutes ago, when he’d had his cock deep in my mouth. He wanted to choke me. I sensed it in the barely restrained energy emanating from his grip.
He hesitated, and I wondered which part of him would win the battle.
I fisted my hands and didn’t move, even though I ached to run them through his soaked hair. Slowly, he moved inside me again, his thrusts the speed of a crawl as he flexed his fingers. Memory or not, the need to take my air was embedded in him.
“You can’t break me,” I whispered.
“But I want to.” He leaned his forehead against mine and shuddered. “I want to make you beg for mercy, watch you shatter. Does that make me a monster, Alex? Does that make me no better than them? Than your brother?” He let up on my
neck, and I placed my hands over his, urging him to squeeze harder.
“Get your hands back up there,” he ordered.
The hard edge of his tone made me shiver. I extended my arms. “You can’t break me. I need this from you. I need it because you need it.”
“Sweetheart, once we open that can of worms, there’s no going back.” He gnawed on his lip, eyes narrowed, then dropped his head to my breasts—maybe to hide from me, or maybe because that’s where he belonged.
Suddenly, I understood. His reluctance, his bullshit talk about right and wrong. It wasn’t to protect me. It was to protect him.
“Fuck…you feel so good.” He scraped my nipple with his teeth, darted his tongue out to tease, and I trembled from the hot, wet stroke of his mouth on my breast. “I could stay inside you forever. Just like this, Alex, with my hands around your neck, my cock buried deep in your cunt. Not moving at all.”
I let out a restless whimper, my hips jutting forward uselessly. He had me pinned in place, unable to move. “Please…”
“Please what, baby?”
“Don’t hold back.” I swallowed under the firm weight of his grip.
“I’m not choking you,” he said. His hands fell away, and he grabbed my ass before turning from the wall. We stumbled out of the shower, past the dreaded tub, and found our way to the bed with our mouths glued together. Water dripping all over the place, he pinned me to the mattress, and his cock owned me as he worked my body like it was made for him.
His thrusts were shallow, hitting the perfect spot at just the right rhythm, and he kept that pace up for what seemed like forever. I quaked underneath his powerful body as warmth pooled around his slippery cock. His name ripped free of my lips, but he forced his fingers into my mouth, pressed on my tongue, and stifled the sound as he plunged to the hilt. He buried his head in my shoulder and rumbled a groan along my skin.
I dug my feet into the mattress, widening for him, arching to meet his thrusts with muffled gasps. The fact that he’d gagged me with his fingers was a major turn-on. The pressure built, turning me into a writhing animal, and holy fuck, the plummet stole my breath.