Reaper's Fall

by Joanna Wylde

  “Hey,” she said, turning to me and smiling, playing with the edges of her towel where she’d tucked it in across her breasts. “So, we have to leave for the carnival in about forty-five minutes. Got any ideas how we might pass the time until then?”

  So much for getting laid again, because I was about to piss her off even more than I’d realized. I’d forgotten that I’d promised to help her, although I’d remembered to stop off and get more face paint, thank fuck. I’d burned through an entire carnival’s worth last night.

  I sighed. Time to grab sack and do the talk.

  “My plans have changed,” I said, feeling like an asshole. This wasn’t a new sensation for me, but the guilt that came with it was. Not that I ever went out of my way to be a dick—it just came naturally, you know? Melanie frowned, tightening her towel.

  Definitely not getting laid. Fucking Gage.

  “What’s up?” she asked carefully. “I mean, I know you didn’t make any promises about us, but I kind of thought—”

  “No, this is about the club,” I said. “You know how I’ve been traveling for the club? They just called and said I need to head back out. Like, I need to leave in half an hour, and I gotta go pack a bag and shit. So I can’t do the carnival with you.”

  Mel cocked her head at me.

  “Are you blowing me off?” she asked, her voice very serious. “Because I’d really prefer it if you had the decency to do it directly, rather than leading me on.”

  “No, I’m not blowing you off,” I said, wishing I had words to explain how I felt about all this. “Look, I’m a jackass. I get that. But I really have to go and I’m not even sure how long I’ll be gone. I promise I’ll stay in touch and text as much as I can. I’m hoping you’ll wait to make any judgments about us and what happened until I get back. I know that Jess is probably just waiting to fill your head with shit about me, and I’m sure a lot of it will be true. But this is between you and me, nobody else.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “I can do that,” she said.

  The relief I felt was enough to scare me—I’d never cared about anyone like this. Hell, what I’d felt for Em was nothing. Why had I been so obsessed with her?

  “I wasn’t in love with Em,” I blurted out.

  “What?”

  Smooth, asshole. Real smooth. But I was all in now, so might as well run with it.

  “They probably told you I’m an asshole who led Em on for a long time. I did that, and then I lost her. But you should know that I wasn’t in love with her. I think I just liked the idea of marrying into the club. Pic’s been like a dad to me—guess I just wanted it to be official.”

  “Okay . . .” she said slowly, obviously confused. Christ, I was botching the hell out of this.

  “Look, I know I don’t have any right to ask this, but I want you to stay away from other guys while I’m gone.”

  I saw a flash of something cross her face—satisfaction? Hard to tell. “And if I do? What about you?”

  “Me?”

  Mel rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Will you be dating anyone else?”

  “I don’t date,” I said. From the look on her face, I wasn’t helping my cause. “But I won’t fuck anyone, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  I thought about Marsh’s sister and our plan. Could I keep that promise? Did it even count, if I did it for the club?

  “Okay,” Mel said after a long pause, giving me a shy smile. I fell into her eyes for a moment, and then I was stepping forward and pulling her in for a kiss. Her arms wrapped around my neck as I pushed her down onto the futon. This was more awkward than you’d think, because she was wearing one of those big bath sheets wrapped around her at least three times. I kept trying to reach under it but I couldn’t get through the damned layers—fuckin’ thing was better than a chastity belt.

  “This is like trying to bang a burrito,” I said finally, frustrated. Mel burst out laughing, which didn’t help because now she was wiggling around and I couldn’t even find the edge of the damned thing.

  “Let me up,” she gasped. “It’ll never work.”

  She was right. I let her go, lying back on the bed to watch as she stood. She turned away, peeking over her shoulder at me, which was simultaneously adorable and sexy as hell, a combination that usually doesn’t go together. I mean, I think bunny rabbits are cute, but I don’t want to fuck one. What the hell’s wrong with you? Mellie’s stripping down and you’re thinking about rabbits!

  They’d been right—I really did need professional help.

  Mel had the towel completely open now, although she still held it loosely around her. She looked like a Harley pinup girl, all teasing curves and dripping water.

  “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I managed to say, and I meant every word. “I have no idea how I’m lucky enough to be here with you right now, but please know you have my eternal appreciation.”

  Christ, did I just grow a pussy?

  I gave a quick glance to check, because the shit coming out of my mouth sounded like a fucking Hallmark card. Nope, that was definitely my cock down there, and he was saluting Mel’s towel-wrangling skills.

  She gave that shy smile again, letting the towel fall slowly to the floor. I waited for her to turn around and come to me—I had plans for that cunt of hers, and while I was in a hurry, I was also fucked for time, too. Might as well take advantage of the moment.

  Melanie didn’t turn around, though. Nope. Instead she dropped slowly to her knees, still facing away. I pushed up on my elbows to find her stretching her back and thrusting her ass out toward me. My brain short-circuited. Then she crawled slowly in a circle across the floor toward me. Like Catwoman, but totally naked and much, much hotter.

  My knees were hanging off the side of the futon. She rose up, catching her tits and squeezing them together as she licked her lips.

  I may have blacked out briefly.

  If there was a God above, I was about to feel those boobs around my dick. Instead she leaned over and went after me with her mouth. I probably owed a lit candle in church or something, because I’d asked for a titty fuck and the man upstairs had raised me a blow job. The fervent Jesus fucking Christ I whispered probably didn’t cut it.

  Then I lost the ability to think, because her lips were wrapped tight around my cock.

  MELANIE

  Painter seemed bigger during the daytime.

  Going down on him was an impulse that came out of nowhere, but I’d never felt sexier—or more powerful—than I did the instant I first wrapped my lips around his hard length. He let out a moan that was half begging, half worship as I flicked the underside of his cock in what I hoped was an expert move. Based on the noises, I was doing just fine for a beginner. The one and only time Jess had convinced me to smoke pot, she’d ended up giving me a blow job lesson using a banana in London’s living room. She showed me how to lick a cock and suck it and even jack a guy off, but I got the munchies before we made it to deep-throating, so I’d eaten the banana.

  Probably just as well, because that monster of Painter’s wouldn’t fit down my throat in a million years anyway.

  I followed the flicking with a swirl of my tongue, running it around the ridge ringing his cockhead.

  “Shit, Mel,” he murmured, reaching down to gather my hair in his hand. Turning my head to the side, I licked up and down his length, exploring the ridges and bumps of him with my fingers and tongue. Then I started working my way back up again, looking up to meet his gaze as I opened my mouth wide, wrapping my lips around him.

  Salt.

  That was my first impression. He tasted salty, but not in a nasty way. Tightening my mouth, I started bobbing my head up and down, taking care not to graze him with my teeth. He was too big to go far, so I used one hand to grasp him firmly, pumping in time with my head.

  “That’s fuckin’ unreal,” he said, and the words were strained, as if it caused him physical pain to speak. I liked this, I decided.
I liked the sense of control it gave me, because no matter how big and tough he was, in this instant Painter was all mine.

  My nipples tightened at the thought, and the desire I’d felt for him in the tub came roaring back. I could touch myself, I realized. Give myself exactly what I wanted while I sucked him off. The thought felt dirty, which should’ve put me off. Instead it turned me on even more. Reaching down with my free hand, I found the spot between my legs so hungry to be touched.

  Wow . . . Oh, wow.

  That was really nice. There must’ve been something about tasting him that enhanced my own sensations, because touching myself had never felt like this before. Pausing, I pulled back to lick him like an ice cream cone. His entire body trembled. Then his hand tightened in my hair, pushing me back down over his length.

  Something changed then.

  Up to that point, I’d been in control. Now both of his hands cupped my head and I realized he could do just about anything to me and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. It should’ve scared me. Instead my fingers worked faster, because I wanted him that much more.

  “Mel, I want to come on your tits,” he muttered, tugging back on my hair. It took an instant to sink in, and then I was pulling free. That’s when he spotted my hand down between my legs. His eyes widened and he came with a gasp, come spurting out of his cock, spraying across my chest. Then he caught me under the armpits, dragging me up his body. An instant later his hand reached down between my legs from behind, plunging into my depths.

  The world exploded.

  I closed my eyes, sinking into the sensation as stars danced behind my eyelids. Holy crap. Who’da thunk blowing a guy could be this good?

  “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous when you come, Mel,” he said, his voice almost reverent as he ran his hands up and down my back. Sighing, I snuggled into his warmth, wishing he didn’t have to leave. We lay there quietly, and I didn’t know about him, but I figured so long as I didn’t actually see how late it was, I could pretend time wasn’t passing.

  “Babe, I gotta go,” he whispered after not nearly long enough. I rubbed my nose against his shoulder, then gave it a little nip. He laughed. “What was that for?”

  “That’s your punishment,” I said, pretending to glare at him. “You ruined my shower, you know. I was getting all cleaned up for this hot guy who was coming over.”

  He laughed again. “Yeah, sorry about that. He’s not gonna make it, though. I ran him over with my bike. I bought breakfast—didn’t want it getting cold.”

  That made me giggle.

  “This sucks, but I really do have to go,” he said, kissing the top of my head. Giving him one last squeeze, I rolled to the side, watching as he sat up and pulled on his pants.

  “Let me guess—you can’t say where you’re going?” I asked. Painter shook his head.

  “Nope,” he said. “And much as it sucks, it’s time to head out. It’s important.”

  “Okay,” I said, feeling let down. He leaned down over me, giving me one last lingering kiss on the lips before running a finger down my nose.

  “I’ll stay in touch this time,” he murmured. “Promise. If you don’t hear from me, it’s because I’m working and can’t risk it.”

  “Let me guess . . . This isn’t doing something for the Reapers like painting that mural for the Armory? You know, I bet you could make good money with your painting. Those portraits at your place were really good, even if they weren’t finished.”

  “Yeah, because art is so fucking lucrative,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s fun, but the club has more important shit that needs doing. I’m gonna go now—take care, okay?”

  Then he gave me a hard kiss and walked out of the room. Five minutes later Jess opened my door without knocking as I scrambled to cover myself with a blanket. At least Taz wasn’t behind her this time . . .

  “You and I will be having a talk later,” she said, her face stern. “But right now I need you downstairs and ready for the carnival in ten minutes.”

  I scowled.

  “When you’re trying to recruit volunteers, it’s a good idea to be nice. You know, the opposite of your normal self?”

  She sighed and shook her head.

  “I’m not being mean—I’m just worried about you. This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”

  Oh, she was so out of line. Sooo out of line.

  “Hypocrite, much? At least I know Painter’s real name. You dragged Taz home and I’ll bet you don’t know his. Do you?”

  Her eyes flicked away. Ha! Suck it, bitch.

  “That’s different,” she replied after a long pause.

  “How—exactly—is it different?”

  “I don’t care who I sleep with,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe that makes me a slut, but I don’t get emotionally involved when I fuck someone. It’s just sex . . . but I don’t think it’s just sex for you and Painter, and that means you’re going to be really hurt when he screws you over. And he will screw you over—he’s like me, Mel. Slutty. He doesn’t care who he hurts and he’s got the track record to prove it. You deserve better than a guy who’ll use you and then disappear.”

  Wow. That was dark.

  “I think that’s simultaneously the nicest and nastiest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I admitted, frustrated. I reached for a T-shirt, pulling it over my head before leaning toward my dresser for some fresh panties. (One of the joys of having a very small bedroom—you can always reach everything.) She sighed, dropping down next to me on the bed.

  “Melanie, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” she said, catching and holding my gaze. “You’re the one who never judges me or hates me for the stupid shit I’ve done—”

  “Oh, I’ve hated you a few times.”

  She rolled her eyes, bumping into me with her shoulder. “You know what I mean. It’s not a secret I’ve had issues. The counseling has helped, but you’ve stood by me through everything, even before I pulled my head out of my ass. You’re always the smart one, the one making the good decisions. You keep me on track and tell me when I’m doing something stupid that’ll hurt me. Now it’s my turn. Painter and Taz are fun guys—they’re sexy and exciting, and I’m sure Painter’s really good in the sack. Taz sure as hell is. But don’t think for one instant that I believe what he says or that I’m counting on him to be around when I need him.”

  “Hey, just because you had a bad experience with Painter doesn’t mean he’s incapable of doing good things,” I snapped. “And what’s with this ‘I bet he’s good in the sack’ shit? I thought you slept with him last year, out at the Armory.”

  The thought of them together still ate at me. I’d always sworn I didn’t want to know the details. Now I did. I totally did.

  Jess looked away.

  “It wasn’t a bad experience because of him, not really. I was fucked up that night, drunk and stupid. We spent about half an hour together in a room upstairs, me and him and another guy, Banks. That’s when London showed up to rescue me, along with Reese.”

  “But how did you go from drunk and stupid to screwing two guys?” I asked without thinking. Shit, how inappropriate was that question? “Sorry.”

  “We’ve covered the whole slut thing already,” Jess said, looking embarrassed. “So, moving along—that sucked. I was humiliated and pissed and I probably blamed him for a while, which is ridiculous because the whole thing was my idea in the first place. Not only that, he saved my life down in California and spent a year in jail for his trouble, so if anything, I owe him even more than I owe you. But here’s reality—he’s not interested in being with anyone long-term and unless you’ve been kidnapped and reprogrammed by aliens in the last twenty-four hours, you’re not looking to be a club whore. I just don’t see what good can come from the two of you sleeping together.”

  “Maybe I just want to have fun,” I told her, resentment building. “Have you considered that? I’ve busted ass for years, trying to hold my dad together and my life and school and everything else. Maybe
it’s my turn to have some fucking fun, so you should back off.”

  Jess stared at me, stunned.

  “Mel . . .”

  “No,” I continued. I was on a roll. Maybe we should sort this shit out once and for all. “I love you and I appreciate the fact that you’re worried about me. You did your duty as a friend. I’m awarding you a gold star and a cookie, but now it’s time for you to walk out of here and let me make my own decisions.”

  Jess stood slowly, still looking unhappy. “All right, then. I’ll leave you to it. But Mel?”

  “Yeah?”

  “When it all falls apart around you and you’re scared shitless? I want you to remember one thing.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “Remember that I’ll always be here for you, because I love you,” she said quietly, her voice breaking. “Just like you’ve always been here for me.”

  “Shit, Jessica . . .” I said, eyes filling with tears. I stepped toward her as she stepped toward me and then we were hugging and I couldn’t quite remember why I’d been so pissed. We stood like that—holding each other—for long seconds. Finally she broke the silence.

  “Mel?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t think for one minute you’re off the hook for face painting.”

  I pushed away, trying to glare at her but I started laughing instead, and then she started laughing and everything was okay.

  • • •

  Ten minutes later, I came racing down the stairs, my wet hair pulled into a loose bun on top of my head. I’d managed to clean up again, get dressed, brush my teeth, and even slapped on some lip gloss.

  I hit the dining room, discovering the remains of our painting marathon the night before. Shit. I’d forgotten I needed to go buy paint. Jessica was going to kill me.

  “Looking for these?” she asked, a shopping bag dangling from one hand.

  “Face paints?” I asked hopefully. She nodded.

  “Painter went out and bought them this morning.”