by Xavier Neal
“Shitty? I think so too.”
Silence suddenly fills the car.
You too? Well shit. Somebody say something.
“So...who....raised you?”
“My big brother Madden. He was the oldest when Dad finally went to prison for the last time. My uncle D was in and out of jail too, so his wife kept a 'legal' eye on all us boys, but really as soon as Madden could get custody over us he did.”
“That's why you and Ben are so close. You were basically raised together.”
“Yup.” Ready to change the spotlight off of me I question, “What about you? What's it like being the Commissioner's only child?”
“A nightmare,” she mutters. When I smirk she rolls her eyes. “I think if my mom was still alive it wouldn't have ended up this bad, but when she died, he....he went a bit off the deep end. I stopped being his daughter most of the time and started being this fragile little china doll to be kept locked away. If it wasn't for Nadie, I'm pretty sure it would be like living in a convent.” After a small pause she finishes, “Even more so.”
“How'd your mom die?”
“Car crash.” My eyes cut over to her as my foot eases off the accelerator. “She was on the freeway. Two cars were speeding, one nicked her tail end it caused her to spin right into the cement separator thing...Brutal crash. Thankfully she died on impact and didn't have to suffer.”
“Shit...”
No, not the most compassionate line, but you come up with something.
“Yeah. It's why dad's so obsessed with traffic laws and ridding the world of street racers and anything else related to vehicles that's remotely dangerous. Vengeance...Penance. All the same to him now.”
I already knew he would hate me, but now? Now I'm worried that he'll lock me up on sight if I ever come across him.
“He wouldn't even let me have a car. The only reason he's letting me get one now is because I'm leaving.”
Shocked I question, “Wait, what? You're leaving? When?”
“End of summer.” I look over to see her staring at me, expression unmoving. “I got into the University of Ashwin, a few states over. Great art program. Far away from home. From here. From him...”
“From me,” my words cause a slight saddened look on her face.
“Merrick,” she softly says. “I like you...I do...but let me be clear. Nothing is stopping me from going to school. Nothing shy of my own death.”
“What if I don't wanna let you go?”
What the fuck is wrong with me? I have no business asking her that. I shouldn't even be after her now, but damn. A little taste of something more than just the every day bullshit and I find myself feigning for it like a junkie.
“Then you can follow me,” her answer receives a giant grin.
“Don't doubt that I will.”
“I have no doubt that you will. After all, you had enough balls to stalk me up to the Commissioner's front door, why wouldn't you stalk me across the country?”
With a loud chuckle, I nod proudly. “Damn right.”
Taking the exit on the complete opposite side of town, I take the first right, and then another left, and end up on an obviously older road. Curious, but not uneasy like I was expecting, she looks out the window. “Where are we headed?”
“You'll see.”
The road continues around until I enter an older neighborhood with less fences and more open yards, most of the homes fairly run down. Finally, I pull around the corner and into the lot of an old park.
“Come on,” I instruct.
She grabs her camera out of its case from her bag, gets out of the car, and takes the hand I'm offering. Leading Jovi around the old swings, to the other side of the wooden playground, I stop us at one of my creations. I watch her face light up at the sight, hand flying over her mouth just as impressed this time as she was the first time.
Fuck. That look alone is worth Madden chewing my ass out about this later.
“His sunflowers,” she coos. “His vase of flowers.”
Jovi glances over at me and I nod. “Go ahead. Grab your pictures, baby.”
“Baby?” Jovi looks at me instead of taking her picture.
Shit. I shouldn't have called her that yet. Why didn't you tell me to slow my roll? She's not that kind of girl. Did I mention how much I love that she's not that kind of girl? Crazy as it fucking sounds, I'm glad we have the other shit before falling into the sheets.
“I kinda like that,” Jovi's response surprises me. “No one's ever...called me anything like that before.”
“Ever?”
“Ever,” she echoes. “Haven't dated much.”
“And I kinda like that,” my comeback makes her smile bigger before lifting her camera to take photos.
Jovi snaps several pictures of the recreated famous painting. I admire the way she moves around, lowers herself for different angles, and continues until she's gathered every possible shot she desires.
Hell watching her take pictures of my tagging is almost an art itself. Sexy 3-D art.
“So why art?” Jovi ponders clicking back through her photos with me glancing over shoulder.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“My mother liked poetry. She thought it was a lost romance. I had a similar feeling when I saw paintings. She took me to my first art exhibit at three and after that I was a goner. Did everything I could to try to recreate them. Even made her come to my art shows I held in my room when I was 5. Didn't take much before I realized I wasn't much of a painter.” With a giggle she continues, “Mom was definitely the one who turned me Van Gogh's direction when she noticed my fondness for yellows, reds, and oranges.”
“You do like the color orange.”
“Shut up.” She looks up over her shoulder at me.
The way her bright brown eyes are shimmering I can't fight the urge to drop my lips on top of hers. It's brief, but enough to satisfy the urge. With my hands now on her hips, I answer, “My cousin has a natural attraction to trouble, so he phased through wanting to tag shit, but I had a real knack for it. We were in middle school and it inspired me to take an art class where we learned a bit about Van Gogh. I don't know. His shit seemed so real and passionate and I guess I could relate. All my brothers are fucking car geniuses in their own way, and I wanted something different. Something more. Something that was...mine.”
That sound cheesy?
Jovi turns in my grip. Her hips press into mine and she gives her head a toss to get the fallen strands out of her face. “Possessive.”
“It was the first time.”
“And the next?”
“Now,” I whisper, kissing her again, sharply. Precisely. Fervently.
With just as much eagerness, she rolls her tongue around mine, the exploration in the action, clearly more about finding what she likes than what I do.
Selfish kisser? Maybe. But I don't mind. I feel like I could give this chick anything and everything. Hell, I damn sure am gonna try.
Backing her body up until it hits the playground right above where I painted, I forcefully grip her hips tighter. In response she slightly parts her legs, moans softly, and kisses me harder. One of my hands slides up the back her thigh until it reaches her bare ass cheek. The grip causes her to gasp and grabs a groan out of me.
Can't fuck her against the playground huh? Well, can't or shouldn't?
Before I can follow through with that possibility, she pushes me back slightly. “We should...we should go.”
Nodding, I take a step back, adjust my hard dick, and offer, “Lunch?”
Her heated face nods in return, her arousal leaping from it.
Goddamn that's fucking beautiful.
With her camera dangling around her neck, the two of us link hands, and head back towards the car. Out of the corner of my eye I watch Jovi trying to gain her composure as much as I am.
“How'd you even find this place?”
“Whenever Madden had something he needed to talk to my brothers or uncle
about and he didn't want me to know, one of my brothers would be in charge of getting me out of the apartment. Three different brothers, three different views on the city. As soon as I was old enough to run the streets by myself, I made a few discoveries all my own.”
“I can't wait to see more,” she innocently says, sliding past her passenger door I'm holding open.
“Can't wait to show you more.” I shut the door when she's settled in and go to follow the action.
As soon as I'm inside my eyes glance over at Jovi who is putting her camera away, the view of tits playing with my interest in the tank top under the loose fitting off the shoulder shirt. My bottom lip lands between my teeth as my dick stirs wanting another sample. Wanting another rush of the energy that pumps deliciously out of her and into me. The minute she sits back and looks over at me, I lean over, wrap my hand around the back of her neck and drag those supple lips back onto mine.
I'm not a fucking saint....what did you expect?
Her body wilts into the seat, relaxing at my touch. Our tongues continue twirling and tangling, savoring every suck and sensation in between each movement of our mouths. Naturally my hand gets ahead of itself and drifts down Jovi's curves, cock stiffening at every surrender she offers with her soft moans. Prepared to stop now that my hand is on her thigh, I give it a good squeeze as if saying goodbye. Unexpectedly Jovi's legs part like an invitation to the sweetest sin worth the potential time behind bars. My fingers curiously stroke on the outside of the satin thong standing between me and a sticky crime. When another whimper is offered in desperation for more, I push the fabric to the side, fingers immediately coated by warmth and wetness.
Our lips part and I mumble, “Damn...”
With panic on her face, Jovi whispers, “Did I do something wrong?”
“No baby.” I roll my thumb across her clit getting the sound I want out of her lips. “Relax.” Immediately she lowers into the seat and spreads her legs wider for better access for my fingers that are dipping deep inside.
Once my dick gets in there, I'm not sure if I'll ever fucking leave.
Jovi's hips rock against my hand, wordlessly encouraging me to take her to the levels I know she desires as much as I do. Slowly I begin to pump, steadily building the orgasm I want from her. The movement of my fingers stays even paced while my mind draws to memory every motion, every gasp, and every groan of pleasure, mine included.
Coming in my pants is not something that should even be a possibility yet here I am. Seconds from busting a nut with my dick knocking against my jeans.
“Merrick,” she calls out softly.
“That's it baby...”
“Merrick....” The repetition has me growling until her fingernails grip my skin as if she's going to fall off the face of the earth without me. Jovi finally lets go and screams my name once more, coming from my fingertips, painting a glimpse of what's gonna happen when I finally get her underneath me. Thankful I didn't cream my jeans while watching her, I continue to stare at her rapidly rising chest, over flushed body, and sensual breaths seeping from her.
Absentmindedly I say, “That was your first time wasn't it?”
She glances away, embarrassment not as sexy as what she was just expressing.
Wrong thing Merrick. Wrong thing...
My hand softly lands on her cheek, turning her face back to me. Her brown eyes widen, clearly waiting for me to say something. In hopes of not fucking it up, I sigh, “You're mine now.”
She smiles softly, leaning into my touch. “Pushy.”
Playfully I correct her before dropping my mouth to hers again. “Possessive.”
After another heated greeting of our tongues she declares, “It won't always be this easy...”
“I'll always work this hard.” Preparing to kiss her once more I add, “Or harder.”
Yup. Double entendre intended. But you knew that.
Jovi
Hayli skeptically stares at me from the edge of my queen sized bed as I twist my hair up into a bun in my bathroom.
I'd say it's creepy but it's Hayli. I'm used to it.
“Don't put your hair up,” she scolds. “It's so much prettier down.”
“It's gross,” I gripe dropping my hands. “It's all.....wavy.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Hayli fights fiddling with my white sheets that give the illusion there's paint splattered on them. “I bet Romeo thinks it's gorgeous.”
Pulling it to the side instead of putting it up I hush her, “Sh.”
“Are you shhing me because you don't want Nadie to hear or shhing me because you know I'm right.”
“I don't know that he thinks that.” I lean against the doorframe. “And why do you call him that? His name's Merrick.”
“I've seen the texts.” She shrugs. “I've heard him speak. That boy Jovi, is no amateur. He is a professional dater. Like Romeo.”
That's not...that's not....tell her how wrong she is.
Instead of correcting her, I nervously fiddle with the pockets of my jeans.
“Speak.”
“I'm not a dog, Hayli.”
“But you are transparent. Now, what's wrong?”
You heard her right? I mean crazy, bad analogy aside, she's got a point. He's dated lots of girls. I mean, I think he has. I'm pretty sure he has. Look at him. In a suit he looked like he would be invited to a royal wedding. Under that shirt I just know he looks like a marble statue waiting to be carved. I wanna carve him with my tongue. That sounded weird...and wrong. Ugh. I'm so awkward.
“Jo'.”
Hayli saying my name brings me back. “Yeah?”
“It bothers you he's been with a lot of girls doesn't it?”
“I don't know what bothers me,” I mumble. “It has its perks...”
“Perks,” she repeats slowly. Suddenly it hits her and she points. “You didn't!”
“No. Not that.” My hands fly up in surrender. “Let's just say his hands are a work of art all on their own.”
“Lucky,” Hayli sighs leaning back on her palms eyes roaming around my neon painted walls that are home to my favorite artwork like a gallery in the middle of the house. “Do you know how many orgasms like that I've faked?”
You ever had to do that? The other day with Merrick was my first time with another person, which is already embarrassing, so please don't make it worst by asking me how that's possible. Why would anyone have to fake that? Why waste your time?
“Best you've ever had?”
“Mmhm.”
Hayli doesn't know how inexperienced I am. Sometimes I think she wonders, but I have a habit of changing the subject swiftly.
“Jovi...” her voice rises.
“Hey, are you still seeing that guy with the purple hair?”
Yeah. A purple haired mohawk. Looks like Barney the dinosaur's bushy mustache.
“No. He...he’s all soft and no edge.” My tactic begins to work until I smile too wide. “Wait, no. No Jo'! Don't change the subject. I was going to ask you something.”
“Right.” I stand up straight. “Can you hand me my camera?”
“I do like the concept of this project,” she compliments grabbing it and my phone. “However, I need to know. As your best friend, you have to be honest with me. 100 percent.”
“Yes. I do think you shouldn't date guys with colored hair.”
Her sarcastic look lets me know she's not giving up this time.
Damn it. A little help here?
“You've been with other guys besides Romeo right?”
“I haven't technically been with him yet.”
“Jo'...”
“Well, been with how?”
“For the love of God, how are you still a virgin!” She shouts loudly.
“That's great Hayli. Scream that shit a little louder for Nadie to know what we're talking about,” I snip.
“Sorry,” she genuinely apologizes. “But seriously. How is that possible? I mean I know how your dad is but―”
“No buts Hayli. Rem
ember my prom dates?” I refresh her memory. “He finger printed them and scanned it to check the system for priors. Then informed us they would be put in the system permanently if I was so much as 5 minutes past curfew.”
“True.”
“And I let him have that melt down because I knew that at some point, enough was going to be enough and I was going to get the fuck out of here with all the good daughter brownie daughter points I've wracked up.”