Ridge Creek Reunited (Ridge Creek Duology)

by C L Green

  Hard.

  My body rocks forward and I lock my elbows to avoid smacking my head up against the tiles in front of me.

  “Fuck,” Jake groans as he stays planted deep within me. I hear a soft moan escape my lips as I drop my head forward and revel in the chills spiraling up and down my spine.

  Slowly sliding back again, I look downwards between my legs to see Jake’s knees bent sharply as he rocks on his toes to hold himself deep within me. I realize how hard this must be for him dealing with our height difference and yet he hasn’t said a word.

  Deciding that something needs to be done, I wait as he slowly draws himself away from me again. Just at the point where I think he is about to slam back in, I twist forward away from him to wrench myself free from his hands.

  Jake grunts his annoyance but I ignore him as I swivel myself quickly to face him. Throwing my hands around his neck, I lift my left knee and watch as without hesitation, Jake grabs it. Lifting myself against his hand, my other leg comes off the floor and Jake quickly snatches that one too. Then in one more fluid movement, he lifts me up and with a massive thrust, impales me again from below.

  I grunt again, as my back hits the wall and Jake’s chest hits my front.

  “Oh God,” I moan as my head falls forward to rest against his shoulder and my nipples connect with the course fabric of his bandage. Already sensitized by my arousal, they respond to the course material by pebbling harder than rocks. Tingles shoot across my breasts and I moan again.

  “Fuck, Ari,” Jake growls again as without hesitation, he slides his hands along my thighs and grabs both globes of my ass. Lifting me easily, he pulls me upwards off his cock again and then slams me back down, my back sliding against the wet tiles as I go.

  Oblivious to any thoughts on my back or what it looks like, I lose myself to the act of fucking Jake as my body ignites and every tissue of my being sensitizes. The water suddenly feels hotter. I feel hotter. Jake looks hotter. If that’s at all possible. I instantly decide that this wet, shiny God, even bandaged up is the hottest thing on this Earth.

  Without a doubt.

  Slamming into me again, I lose track of time as my whole being focuses on the thousands of nerve endings all over my body now zinging with pleasure. Latching my mouth onto the top of Jake’s shoulder, I find myself sucking and licking in an automatic response to the pressure building deep inside my core.

  Sensing my desperation, Jake increases his efforts and starts pounding into me relentlessly. I continue to moan and suck, lost in a sea of feelings as the now familiar tingles build along my lower back and my stomach starts to contract involuntarily.

  “Fuck, Ari,” Jake grunts again as he continues to lift me and slam me back down as he pistons his hips hard against me with each stroke.

  Still suckling madly at his shoulder, I mumble incoherently. Squeaks of agonized pleasure escape my lips as the pleasure centers in my body start to peak. I lose myself to the silky feel of Jake sliding back and forth inside me as I feel the moisture pouring from my insides, coating his rock hard cock as it glides back and forth.

  Responding to my urgency, I feel Jake lengthen inside me. His slams now penetrating deeper than ever and touching that spot. That spot where it feels like you have an itch that can’t be scratched. He hits it once, twice and then that’s it. Every cell in my brain explodes and I’m pretty sure my eyes roll back in my head. My whole body involuntarily clamps down, including my mouth. Sinking my teeth into Jakes neck, I hear him grunt loudly as he slams one more time, smashing me up against the tiles before he slumps forward against me and stays there. As I slowly come down from wherever the fuck my mind went for a few brief seconds, I loosen my hold on his neck and feel his cock pulsing inside me as he spurts his hot seed deep inside.

  Shit. Birth control.

  Realizing it’s too late to do anything about it now I relax against the tiles and instinctively lick and kiss Jake’s shoulder where I can now see the clear indents left behind by my teeth.

  Woops.

  “Jake…” I murmur, deciding I’d better raise the small issue of my concern over birth control immediately.

  “Mmm,” he grunts sounding satisfied and relaxed.

  “I hate to wreck what I have to say was a very good time, but you didn’t use a condom.”

  “Hmm,” he rumbles back not moving from his position slumped across me, water spraying on his back. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Don’t worry about it?

  What. The. Fuck?

  Tensing up, my head smacks back against the tiles with a crack as I semi-screech, “Don’t worry about it?”

  “Yeah babe, don’t worry about it,” he murmurs still relaxed. “We’ll get ourselves checked. If that fucktard Tony gave you anything, we’ll deal with it.”

  Huh?

  Frantically wriggling to remove myself from his cock and get my feet to the ground, I feel Jake’s hands tighten on my ass. “Stop it babe, what the fuck is the matter with you?”

  “What the fuck is the matter with me?” I screech as my voice starts to sound all pitchy as anger courses through me. “You just fucked me without a condom which means I could get pregnant. So here I am worrying about making babies and all you’re worried about is the fact that I might have given you something?”

  I feel and hear Jake sigh as he releases his hold on my ass and I slide my feet to the floor. Feeling the tiles beneath my feet, I straighten and tip my head to look at his face. He still looks unconcerned.

  Staring blankly at him for a few moments I find it extremely difficult to comprehend why he is looking so calm right now. Especially when I feel like grabbing a baseball bat and beating him around the head with it. Scowling angrily at him, I slam my hands into his chest and snarl, “Are you fucking joking with me?”

  I watch as Jake stares thoughtfully at me for a beat or two before he lifts a hand, reaches over to his left and grabs a bottle of shampoo off of the bottle rack. “Nope.”

  What. The.. Fuck?

  “Are you saying you don’t care if I am pregnant?”

  “Nope, not saying that either. I care. I care a whole lot. But I don’t have to worry about it,” he says as he starts squirting shampoo into his hand and puts the bottle back on the shelf.

  Huh?

  Confused, I stare at him disbelievingly. “You don’t have to worry about it?”

  Lifting both hands and scrubbing his hair, he closes his eyes to avoid soap burning them. “Nope, I’ve had a vasectomy.”

  “Oh,” I mumble as his words hit me like a slap to the face. I feel my anger ebbing as I realize the enormity of what he’s just told me. “You can’t get me pregnant.”

  Well that certainly solves the immediate problem.

  He finishes scrubbing the shampoo through his now shiny, wet, black hair before he tilts his head back to rinse “And I haven’t fucked bareback for years so if anyone should be getting stanky here, it’s me. Considering the filthy whore-bag I saw Tony jackin’ off into the night I popped him, he could have been carrying anything.”

  Oh my God.

  “Are you accusing me of being…” I feel my blood begin to boil as I try to formulate a word to explain what I mean. “Dirty?”

  Apparently oblivious to my anger, Jake continues his ablutions by conditioning his hair. It shocks me even more that he doesn’t seem to give a flying fuck that I’m about to self-implode

  “Jake,” I ask quietly, venom spitting from my tongue. “Are you implying that I might have given you something just now?”

  Rinsing the conditioner from his hair Jake chuckles. “I’m not implying anything. Chill out wildcat. We both know that if you were carrying anything we’d know about it by now. I’m just pointing out that if by the long shot either of us had anything, you are more likely to have something than I am. Now chill the fuck out.”

  Finally deciding I’ve had enough, I lose it. Lifting my hands, I plant them firmly on his stomach. Tamping momentary thoughts on how ripped his stomach
is, I shove with all my might. “Asshole!” I screech as I literally bounce off his abs and make a move to slide the shower screen open so I can exit. Right now I don’t think I can even look this son of a bitch in the eye. How could he possibly say such horrible things and not even be concerned?

  Grunting at my shove but not budging an inch, Jake continues to rinse his hair casually with one hand, while the other snakes out to grab my wrist as it hovers near the screen door.

  “Whoa there woman. I said chill the fuck out.”

  Attempting to shake him off, I groan my annoyance as I soon discover that even one handed, Jake can immobilize me with minimal effort. Far out he’s strong.

  “I did not say you were dirty. I did not imply anything. I was just stating facts.”

  Narrowing my eyes angrily at him I snap out, “I don’t have anything, I had myself tested after I saw him banging that skank in her lounge room. All my tests were clear. I never slept with him after that, he repulsed me.”

  “Then what the fuck are you getting so fired up about?” Jake continues letting go of my hand so that he can lean on the wall while he soaps his body.

  “I don’t know. Maybe the fact that today I made a monufuckingmental decision to come back here and be with you and this is what happens. We spend less than twenty minutes together and you are pretty much calling me a disease ridden whore.”

  Jake pauses his soaping regime to look at me. His eyes now look concerned. “I’m not sure how to respond to a statement like that.”

  Realizing this is most definitely not the time and place to be having the conversation about what happened to me today, I falter. Without taking his eyes from mine, Jake slowly places the soap on a shelf and turns to place both his hands on my shoulders. Twisting me gently he stoops slightly to get closer and peer into my eyes.

  “One thing I am sure of is that you are freaking the fuck out. Again. You may not think you are but right now Arianna, whether you realize it not, you are. Your perceptions are out of whack and you’re missing the important shit and focusing on the crap. Now I’m not gunna spell it all out to you but here’s a few things I wanna make sure we’re clear on before I let your angry hands anywhere near my bullet wound.”

  My eyes flick to his bandage before sliding back up to stare at his. Apparently his plan hasn’t changed.

  “One. Not once have I ever thought of you as a dirty whore bag. I’m sorry if that’s what you thought I was saying and I can now see that this shit is clearly a sore spot for you. In my defense however, I really was not concerned. At all. Which is why my words came out the wrong way and made you react the way they did. In future I’ll be more careful about the shit I say and make sure I’ve got a good handle on your pulse before I decide to write them off in my head as a nonissue.”

  Okay then.

  He’s apologizing. This is good.

  “Two. I’m not sure how deciding to come back here became monumental but I’d like to hear more about that. Just not yet. Right now I’m starting to shut down. My body is getting stiffer by the minute from being shot and then getting its ass dragged to Melbourne and back on a motorbike. Although I should add that I like your response to my telling you I was getting stiffer earlier, even though you may have taken it out of context.” He’s smirking now.

  As realization dawns on me about his ‘stiffer’ reference I find myself starting to grin too. He doesn’t wait for me to say anything before continuing.

  “And one final thing, for now. Never pull that shit you pulled with me before again. Never for one second do you need to feel embarrassed or nervous about the scars on your back. They are a part of you Arianna. They are like of a map of your life and are there for a reason. That reason is to remind you of how strong you are and what you are capable of. They are not ugly and they are not something you need to hide from me or anyone else for that matter. Those scars represent you. They represent the damage that was done and they show you that you can heal. Like the damage to your skin, you can recover from whatever life throws at you. Don’t ever forget that.”

  Holy shit.

  What do I say to that? Blinking slowly I stare straight into Jake’s bright green, very serious eyes and sigh. His eyes soften and he nods. I give him a small smile.

  “Okay then,” he continues. “Now that I’ve got that shit out I need you to unwrap my bandage. I’m getting ready to drop from exhaustion here. The clips are on my back.”

  Turning his back towards me, water continues to course over his shoulders as I spy two tiny clips holding his bandage in place. Shaking off thoughts of Jake’s latest revelations I decide to focus on the job at hand and think more about his words later.

  Shifting my attention to the bandage, I can see that it’s not only soaked with blood, but it’s also soaked with water. Sopping wet, there is now rose colored water coursing down Jake’s back, across his most magnificently muscled butt and down his powerful legs to the floor.

  I gasp at the rivers of blood as I reach out and flick the ends of the two clips to release the bandage. Immediately it starts to fall and unravel from the weight of the water and blood swelling its fibers. Snatching to catch the first loop as it falls, I unwind the bandage from around his chest, slowly and carefully, unsure where his bullet wound will be. Leaving me to it, Jake sighs heavily and leans forwards and places both hands flat against the tiles in front of him as he continues to let the water spray down his back.

  Winding the bandage around him three times, the last two loops drop away of their own accord. I am now staring at what looks like a burned gash across his lat just forward of where his arm would naturally hang. There are half a dozen steri-strips hanging off it. Bloody is steadily oozing from the gash.

  “The strips have let go and it’s bleeding heavily,” I announce as I stare at the wound horrified at how the bullet has torn its way through skin leaving blackened edges from the heat of its travel.

  “I figured that. Rip off the ones that are there and I’ll give it a quick rinse under the water. There’s another First Aid kit in the bathroom cabinet. There should be more Steri-Strips in there and a some proper wound dressings. I didn’t have any back at the house.”

  “On it,” I mumble as I drag my eyes from the wound to turn and slide the screen door open.

  “Ari,” Jake announces as I step out of the shower, “I don’t yet know what choices you were given today, but I want you to know that I’m glad you made the decision to come back.”

  Pausing to look back at him, I sigh heavily. “So am I,” I murmur before I step out of the shower, slide the screen door shut and grab a towel to dry off before I start searching for the First Aid kit.

  Chapter Six

  Stephen Bradford

  Six hours later, Arianna…

  Jake and I are sitting back at the bar in the communal room with Zane and Emma after everyone has finally managed to get a few hours of sleep.

  “You have to be fuckin’ shitting me,” Jake growls as he leans forward onto the bar. “You sure he’s not a bullshit artist?”

  “Well I can’t be sure…” I reply hesitantly as I roll our conversation through my head again. “But why would he go to so much effort if he wasn’t telling the truth?”

  “True,” Zane mutters from my left where he has been sitting quietly listening as I explained the events of my morning. “It looks to me like he’s put a lot of money and effort into this. Letting her walk away seems sincere.”

  “A better explanation on why that dipshit didn’t shoot straight enough to kill me,” Jake muses staring at the beer on the bar in front of him.

  “Gotta agree with that. I just thought they weren’t very good at what they were doing,” Emma adds from my right. “I thought they were fumbling about when in fact they were avoiding excessive force.”

  “I shot my own father,” I mumble as I face plant on the bar. “Who does that?”

  “In your defense you didn’t know he was your father at the time,” Emma says as she starts rubbing sm
all, comforting circles between my shoulder blades.

  “Who points a fuckin’ gun at their own daughter? And who lets one of his goons whack her on the back of the fuckin’ head?” Jake snarls from above me as I hear the telltale sound of his bottle thumping back down onto the bar. “And shoots her fuckin’ boyfriend?”

  “In his defense he didn’t know you were my boyfriend,” I point out lifting my head from the bar to look at Jake again.

  “A guy with the resources your so called fuckin’ dad has at his fingertips should have had a better idea what the fuck was going on and realized you were fine where you were,” Jake snarls angrily again. “His dipshit friend could have killed you with that blow to head. That, no matter which way you look at it, is unacceptable.”

  “Aaargh,” I groan as I drop my face back to the bar. “This is like a ‘Who’s on First’ conversation.”

  “Arianna, don’t try to defend this mother fucker to me. He came to my home, shot me and then kidnapped my girlfriend. Just because he’s explained his reasoning for this to you does not make it right. If he hadn’t have fancied himself as a Goddamned James Bond 007 he would have known you were fine exactly where you were and things would have gone very differently.”

  He’s so right.

  Why am I even trying to defend this man? A man who until this morning I didn’t even know existed. I don’t even know him. I’ve lived my whole life accepting that I didn’t have a father and now, pop, one appears out of nowhere like a Fairy God… father.

  Which I suppose, is why I’m feeling this way. Somewhere in the deep dark recesses of my mind I’ve always wanted a father. I even remember when I was young fantasizing and dreaming about him. He was supposed to be my knight in shining armor and he would come and save me from my evil fire-breathing dragon mother. Sadly from the story he told me today, if he’d have known where I was, this may actually have happened.