She was so getting off on this. On making me feel like shit.
“Maggie,” I replied with a stony expression. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Showing Phoebe around,” she replied. The girl beside her, apparently Phoebe, gave me an uncomfortable glance. Maggie must have told her about me, a notion that stirred up some mixed feelings inside me. A little pride that I had warranted a mention, but also a dreadful, queasy sensation over exactly what kind of shit could have been said.
“This is your ex?” Phoebe asked. She was cute enough in her own right. Shoulder length wavy hair, a bit of a dirty blonde, and showing about as much skin as Maggie. “The one with the apa? The one you always had threesomes with?”
“Don’t get any ideas,” Maggie said with a frown. She caught the girl’s face in her hand and leaned in. “I’m not sharing you.”
She kissed her then, hard and deep. On one hand, it was kinda hot, reminding me of all those times before with Maggie and me and some random chick. One on my dick, the other on my face as they kissed with a wild abandon.
But her words cut me to the bone.
I’m not sharing you.
Maggie had always shared me.
Nausea boiled up in my gut. She was really serious about this one. It wasn’t just someone in passing to toy with. She felt possessive, unwilling to let anyone else have a taste. Something she’d never felt for me.
Another crushing blow to my ego. Another hit, square in my junk, taking me down yet another peg. Another devastating reminder that I wasn’t good enough.
I jerked away from the couple, forcing my way through the crowd towards the back door of the bar. Pushing past the guys and chicks alike that gawked at the girl-on-girl display right before their eyes.
The bite of cold air hit my lungs when I stepped outside and paced around the side of the building. Into the shadows around the corner where others rarely ventured. My mind raced to push that image, the sound of her voice, from my thoughts. I ended up punching the wall, cursing as splinters from the rough wood dug into my knuckles.
It was enough, though. The throbbing pain in my hand released some of the pent up frustration and jealousy in my chest. I whirled around, leaning up against the building, then slid down the wall to sit on the cold ground.
That’s how Raven found me.
I hadn’t even realized she was at the Copperline. Yet here she was, standing before me.
In the chill of this late fall night, she had to be cold as fuck wearing a flirty little skirt and above-the-knee socks. She had a jacket, too, but it wasn’t fastened, nor did it look exceedingly warm. The top she had under it would be considered skimpy at best. I could almost see the goosebumps rising on her bare stomach, even in the low light. Technically, she was sort of wearing fingerless gloves, but they appeared to be more fashion than function.
She had to be freezing her ass off. I was cold as hell, and I had my burning anger to warm me.
After a long look, she spoke. “I could probably take her if you want.”
“Who?” My brain felt a little foggy, so I didn’t really get what she was saying.
“Maggie… and maybe her little girl toy, too. I’m not all big and muscly, but I’m a scrappy fucker.”
I leaned my head against the wall, allowing her unique calming presence to seep into my pores. It felt as though her cool and tough bravado could extinguish the rage inside me, guiding me to peace with a Zen-like promise.
“No,” I replied finally, “she’s just being a cunt. She apparently likes rubbing this shit in my face.”
“She shouldn’t even fucking be here,” she huffed with a long, frustrated sigh before she looked back down at me. “Drew, I don’t want her to do this to you. I don’t want her to see you crumble. So what do you need in order to go back out there and play like she doesn’t mean shit?”
I closed my eyes. “I need to forget.”
For a moment, neither one of us moved, except for a shiver that seemed to bounce back and forth through the cool air. Then I heard the faint rustle of clothing followed by the shuffle of feet and felt something soft hit me in the chest. I opened my eyes and blinked, lifting a small scrap of lace.
Raven stood before me in her short skirt and apparently—since I now held them in my hand—no underwear. She tilted her head slightly to the side.
“You want to forget, huh?” she softly murmured in a low voice. “I seem to recall something working for you before.”
She stood still, not moving towards me. Watching me. Hesitating. Waiting for a sign.
That latent memory of her began to stir, breathing a touch of life back into my dejected soul. Putrid thoughts of Maggie and Phoebe began to fade, pushed into the dark corners of my consciousness as the light of Raven began to filter in.
“Very well, actually,” I finally said with a jagged, hard whisper.
Her tongue darted out to graze her upper lip. “Shall we try it again?”
Fuck, yeah… it was already working. I sat up straight and reached out to settle my hands at her hips. Her breathing hitched as I pulled her a step closer. Then another. And another until she stood almost over me, one foot on either side of where I sat on the ground.
My mouth went dry, anticipating the delicacy just inches away. The hem of her short, swingy skirt was so close, just below my eye level. By drawing her towards me a tiny bit more and lifting the fabric, I could taste her.
So I did.
Fuck, so good.
With the first touch of my mouth, she steadied herself, palms flat against the building. My tongue slipped into the bare folds, sweeping along the softness in long, smooth strokes. Her skin felt like satin under my hands as I swept them over her hips, around to her ass to pull her closer. I teased her, licking wide circles around her clit until she was rocking gently against my lips.
Swiping my tongue over her sensitive, swollen nub, I realized she had a genital piercing of her own. Something I’d not noticed before. A vertical barbell ran through her clitoral hood. I toyed with it, tonguing it and sucking it until she moaned over me. With a faint shiver, she gasped into the night air. Her muscles tightened and her hips jerked over my mouth.
Her legs began to give, and I guided her down over me. My lips captured hers, allowing her to savor the rich essence of her arousal. With a moan, she relished in the taste. Her fingers clutched at my shoulders and then skimmed down my body, molding over my throbbing dick.
“Fuck, Drew,” she whispered against my lips. “I need you to fuck me. I need this beautiful cock inside me.” She kissed me again, sweeping her tongue deep inside my mouth. “Nobody can fuck me like you can.”
“Condom… pocket…”
“I’ve got one,” she breathed, grabbing her purse from where it had hit the ground beside me. She dug inside and pulled out a foil packet.
“Jesus,” I exhaled in a choked laugh, “I love that you’re so prepared.”
She exhaled a breathy chuckle and stroked me firmly as she slipped the condom on. Rising up to her knees until she had me covered, she then lowered herself. The heat radiated from her body in the cold night, then sheer heaven rocked me as she took me inside.
“Fuck, Rave,” I muttered mindlessly, “fuck, you feel so… fuck…”
Slowly at first, she lost herself in long, smooth strokes, taking me with her into that strange, alternate plane where it was just the touch of our skin. Hot and wild in the chill of the night.
She worked a fucking miracle because, once again, she made me forget everything but her. The moment we lived in. Hard and fast, the frantic release boiled up inside me. I let out a deep groan as I let loose, and she caught the low sound in a kiss. She swallowed it down until I could almost feel it reverberate through her body and back into mine.
I sat there on the ground holding her tight. In the shadows along the wall, dimly illuminated by the exterior lights of the Copperline and the waning full moon. My breath was shaky, and I felt lightheaded.
I also
felt a little guilty.
As amazing as all this was, it wasn’t fair to her. I was using her to distract me from the ache of being cast aside. She knew it, she offered it, but that didn’t make it right.
“Rave—” I started, feeling like I had to say… something.
She pulled her head back a little, looking into my face. In the shadowy light, the rich purple of her hair looked almost black. Her dark makeup gave her a bewitching appearance, like she could flutter her fingers and cast a spell on me.
Her fingertips traced my jaw in a tender soothing motion.
“Shhh,” she whispered. “You don’t have to say anything, Drew. I’ve told you that before. I know exactly what this is.” She placed a tender kiss to my lips, and it stilled my argument. “Sometimes, you just need a good friend and a good fuck, and I’m happy to give those to you. It’s stress relief. That’s all.” She pressed another soft kiss to my lips with a smile.
So easy with her. All of it. When my discomfort began to rear its ugly head, a few quiet words from her held it at bay. Her whispering caresses created a shield against all the uncertainty. She made me believe that everything would be okay in the end.
My friend. My employee. Both of those roles should have sent me into a tailspin after what we’d just done… again. Yet her whole demeanor—all at once comforting and light and nonbinding—made it all seem so right.
“You know,” she whispered, “Maggie’s a fucking idiot.”
If anything should have done it, that should have. If anything could have snapped me out of this post-orgasmic haze, the sheer mention of my caustic ex-bitch who fucked me over and wanted to rub it in should have done it.
Instead, my dick still planted deep inside Raven’s wet warmth, I chuckled. I pulled her close and felt her body tighten as she melted into me, resting her head on my shoulder with a light, girly laugh of her own. A sound that took a moment to register in my mind.
“Did you just giggle?” I asked after a minute of thought. Raven was always so cool and smooth. Not prone to so many little chickish mannerisms.
“Fuck no,” she replied, but sorta did it again as she continued. “I don’t do girly shit like that.”
I pressed my face into her neck, breathing in the erotic scent of her perfume. Nothing light and flowery, but rich and warm. Exotic. Enthralling.
“Okay, just checking.”
Somehow she empowered me. It didn’t make sense, but somehow she pulled me out of the melancholy with so much strength that I went back inside and did exactly what I needed to do.
I played like Maggie didn’t mean a fucking thing to me.
My fingers, still tingling from guiding Raven’s hips—from moving her in slow circles and then hard, frantic thrusts—flew over my guitar strings. I didn’t even see Maggie anymore. I’m not sure if she left or I was just that good at blocking her from my mind. Not a soul in the room could have guessed how close I’d been to breaking, except for the violet gaze from over at the bar. The girl in a short skirt and thigh-high socks…
…with dirty knees.
So it went from there. Casual. No ties. No strings or commitments. Just a warm, wet pussy to sink into every time things got to be too much. Something to take me out of my head, to make me feel a little less rejected.
That’s what I kept telling myself. The nagging hole left by Maggie wasn’t going to disappear, but with Raven it seemed to sting less. Once I got inside her, Maggie was the furthest thing from my mind.
If only her magic worked all the time. If only I could always feel the way I felt when I was inside her. When she was gasping my name and gripping me to her in ecstasy.
Obviously, though, I couldn’t. As much as I would have liked, I couldn’t just fuck Raven twenty-four/seven. She had a life outside of Ink. A life I didn’t know a whole lot about, but it took her away now and then. I knew she wasn’t from Montana, but I thought she might have some family here. A distant relative. Someone who’d made her land here. You don’t really end up in Ophir by accident.
And I had my other life away from Ink, too. My band. We’d gotten together in college with dreams that someday we’d get our fame and fortune. We’d be a bar band that ended up playing stadium rock. It was something I’d aspired to since I picked up my dad’s guitar as a kid. Since I dressed up like Gene Simmons in full KISS regalia for Halloween in first grade. Since I watched every Van Halen video ever to figure out how Eddie did the things he did. Since I first saw the Sinners on tour and dreamed of sharing a stage with them someday. Somehow.
A few years later, though, we were still a bar band. We’d hit celebrity status with some locals, but were nothing like the platinum rockers my juvenile mind had imagined. Being ordinary had begun to feel extraordinary, though. It had brought me Maggie and all the wild sexcapades with her. The stream of girls she brought into bed with us. It felt all rockstar and shit. I’d really thought my life was pretty fuckin’ good.
Now, I just didn’t know what the fuck my life was. There was a weird fog, an unreality of each day that made things feel up in the air.
As for Raven, I didn’t see her often outside of work. She ran in different circles, but it was like she had a sixth sense for my psyche. An awareness of my mood. Whenever the world seemed to darken around me, she would appear to pull me from the shadows, eclipsing the confusion and regret that burrowed into my chest.
Sometimes the casualness caught me off guard. The first time I had her in my bed could have arguably been the best sex I’d ever had. It was a Saturday night, after a rockin’ show.
One of those nights that the band played with an effortless rhythm. Like we were destined for greatness. Fluid and spot on, feeding into the vibrancy of the crowd. It reignited the yearning for fame that still simmered under my skin.
It made me want to fuck. Hard and fast and wild.
Maggie had always used those times to round up a few new friends to play with us. One night, she had four girls all over me and each other. A hedonistic orgy of pussy and breasts all around.
The Mofo after party was in full swing when those memories began to filter through my mind. I rapidly began to spiral down, unsure what to do with the energy raging through my veins. Laura caught my arm, but I jerked away from the expression of pity on her face.
So I grabbed the closest bottle I could see and headed upstairs to my room, desperate to erase the sense of loss. Alone. Ready to drink myself into oblivion.
Just as I took the first swig, though, I heard the click of the latch behind me. I didn’t move, thinking whoever it was wouldn’t stay when they saw what a wreck I was. Then the bold scent of Raven’s perfume teased my nostrils. She stepped up behind me and slipped her hands under the fabric of my t-shirt, running them up my stomach to my chest. She held me in silence, tracing the lines of my ink from memory. Drawing me away from the dark.
Turning around, I caught her harshly in my arms and devoured her with my kiss. My fingers tangled savagely in her hair. Clothes flew to the floor and I felt the delicious burn of her skin against mine. We fell to my bed where I covered her body with my own and rode her hard, holding back my release until she’d come beneath me over and over again. With a hoarse groan, I finally collapsed beside her, sated and almost numb with relief.
“You can stay, you know,” I murmured after a bit, after I caught my breath and my pounding pulse had mellowed. “Sleep here.”
The moonlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating the soft curves of her naked body. I trailed my fingertips along her hip bone and down along the ink on her thigh before looking back up at her guarded expression. For the slightest second, there was a flicker of something in her eyes. Something I didn’t understand, but that made my chest swell heavily and my breath catch.
She dropped her gaze and I felt her fingernail tracing along the tat on my chest. With a faint twist to her lips, she gave a tiny shake of her head.
“Sleeping over is girlfriend shit, Drew. That’s not really what we’re doing here.” Sh
e looked back up at me, recovered from her pensive moment, and slowly smiled with a wicked light in her eyes. “I’m here to get you off. To help you forget, remember? Let’s not complicate it.”
I wasn’t entirely sure how that made me feel. Maggie had never wanted to sleep over either, generally because she usually took the extra girl or girls home, so that had made sense. Sorta.
But Raven…
I lifted my hand to comb my fingers through the dark purple streaks of her hair, satiny smooth and fine. I realized I wanted her to stay, more than I ever had with Maggie. I knew that was ridiculous, but I did, and it stung a little that I seemed to be the only one who felt that way. That made no fucking sense, so I brushed it aside and rolled her underneath me.
“So maybe I want you to get me off again, over and over. All night. Maybe I want to get you off.” I leaned down and kissed her neck, nipping gently, delighted by the resulting shiver that rippled through her.
“Mmm… you’re very persuasive.”
“I’m also curious,” I whispered against her ear.
“About what?”
“You.”
She pulled back a little, wary and uncertain. Trapped by my body, though, she could only get so far away. “What about me?”
I brushed the hair from her eyes and looked down at her. “Where you’re from. Why you came here. What did you want to be when you grew up?”
She narrowed her eyes at me in a teasing manner. “You first.”
I knew she was avoiding my probing questions, but maybe if I started talking, she might talk too.
Just maybe…
“That’s easy,” I grinned. “I wanted to be a rockstar.”
She smiled, probably thinking that she had won. That she had avoided answering me.
“Well, you did it.”
“Not really. Not like I always dreamed. Money for nothin’ and all that. That’s what I was always aiming for.”
Evanescent Ink (Copperline #4) Page 5