by T. L Smith
“That’s enough, Mom. Don’t you ever degrade her in front of me again!” Jagger threatens, lifting his palms from the table where he’d slammed them down hard.
“Look, Jagger. That there is a man of wealth and high class. Aria is none of those things.”
“Deb, if you say one more thing, I’m leaving,” my father warns, looking at me apologetically. I feel Mika’s hand on my thigh as he squeezes it hard and loosens to rub lightly.
“I don’t know why you view your daughter in such an awful manner, Mrs. Bliss, but I will tell you Aria is one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. I will not say anything rude to you out of respect for her, but you do need to keep the degrading comments to yourself,” Mika says while everyone stares at him. I didn’t want him to know about how cruel she could be. The only person that knows is Jagger, and sometimes my father and sister see it, just not to the extent she used to go to.
“I want you out of my house,” my mother stands looking at me and pointing to the door, “and never come back!” she screams, leaning over the table.
Jagger stands when I do, walking over to my side. “I’ve let this go on long enough. Dad, we love you. Mom, your love was on a thin line, which you’ve just blown tonight. I will not be back. Goodbye,” he says, walking out before we do. My mother stops me before I leave, and when I turn to face her, she slaps me hard across the face. I stand there looking at her through tear filled eyes.
“You, you’ve ruined this family.”
“You are never coming back here again,” Mika says, lifting me up and carrying me out the front door. He slams it when he leaves and the last thing I see is my father yelling at my mother.
The drive is quiet, but his hand stays firmly on my knee. He changes the gears of his car with one hand, never removing the other. We arrive back at his house and he comes around to my car door and lifts me up. I hear him talk on his phone as he walks me up the stairs and then places me on the bed. He leaves and shuts the door, enclosing me in blackness. Blackness makes the memories come back, the bad memories. Just before they inflict their torture, the door opens and Jagger stands there with a duffle bag in his hand. He drops it onto the floor and walks over, turning on the bedside lamp.
“I’ll tell him not to leave you in the dark,” he says, leaning close and placing his forehead on mine. Effectively calming me down with his presence, like he does when I have bad times.
“I like him, he looks out for you and he’s protective. Stay here, be safe and call me if you panic,” he says, kissing my cheek and walking out of the room. I hear him talk to Mika. “Don’t leave her in the dark again when she’s in a bad place, you won’t like what you find when you walk back in,” he says, his footsteps fading away into the distance.
Mika walks in and I hear him pacing around the room. When I finally see him, he crouches down in front of me, lifts me up and walks me to the shower where my nighty lies on the counter.
“Should I shower you?” he asks, with uncertainty in his voice. I shake my head and he walks out leaving the door slightly open. I strip off and step into the shower, trying to wash away tonight and the bad memories associated with it.
When I walk back into the room, Mika is in bed, lying down and looking up at the ceiling. I'm wearing a nighty and nothing else. Climbing into the bed next to him, I face the wall, away from him. I feel him turn to me, but he doesn’t say anything, he just watches my back. I drift off to sleep and the dreams assault me.
“You little slut, you think it’s smart to fuck the boy at school,” she berated, a bottle of alcohol in her hand. I bet it was her second, she wasn’t usually this bad on the first bottle. I tried to walk away from her. No one is home apart from us. The school had called her, informed her of my extra-curricular activities in the men’s bathroom. So now I was home with her alone.
“Come here,” she said, holding a razor between her fingers. I shook my head, she threatened me with her eyes. If I didn’t listen, I was punished even more. Stepping forward, I removed my shirt. She spun me around and started cutting little cuts onto my back. Small, so they’d heal faster and leave less evidence. But it was like being covered in glass, ripping and tearing all over my back.
She finished at twenty, I knew because I had to count them out. Then she put me in the closet—the pitch black closet— just me and the blood running down my back.
“Shhh,” a voice rocks me. Shaking it off, I try to untangle myself again from Mika’s arms. He has me trapped so I can’t move.
“Go back to sleep, Aria,” he says into my ear. And I do, this time without the nightmares.
Waking to find myself at the bottom of the bed again and no Mika anywhere, I stand and find my bag Jagger brought and get dressed in a short dress.
“Do you think you’re in the right line of work?” Mika asks from the kitchen as I step into it.
“Yes,” I reply, walking to the fridge pulling out the juice.
“You’re good, I’m not going to deny that. Actually, you are the best. But I think I now know why you are the best. You do what’s been done to you. Am I right?” he asks and I wonder what he’s talking about. Then I remember my nightmare, my mother, and yesterday.
“You won’t find anyone better than me for this job,” I tell him, giving him the only answer I can.
Chapter 17
“I want to go home,” I tell him after he feeds me bacon and eggs.
“You are home,” he says with a twitch of his lips.
“You can’t hold me hostage.”
“I can and I will,” he retorts.
“I’m leaving,” I say and stand, but before I can take a second step, he’s in front of me, blocking my path.
“I will come with you if you want to leave this house.”
“I can look after myself.”
“I don’t doubt it, but I’m still coming.”
“Don’t you have work to do? You can’t keep on following me around like a lost puppy.”
“I’m not lost,” he says with a smirk.
“Arghhh!” I scream and make my way to the front door, pulling it open. Mika uses the keys to unlock his car and we climb in. He takes me home in silence, never even asking for my address. He knows too much about me and I don’t like it.
Mika stays in the car when we arrive at Jagger’s. Jagger opens the door and looks past me to Mika, they nod heads and Jagger brings me inside.
“Why are you and lover boy here?” he teases. I smack his arm and walk to the counter where my phone is located. I have several unread messages, some from Bexley, Zeke, and even Sarena. I read through them and smile. I’ve just worked out a plan.
“What are you planning?” Jagger asks, reading my face. I sometimes forget he can do that.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” he scoffs.
“I’m going to shower, if he comes in, entertain him,” I say and he smiles like he knows what my plan is. Maybe he does.
I pack a small bag. Opening my bedroom window, I stop when I hear his voice. It’s close.
“She’s showering, come and have a drink with me,” Jagger says. I wait a few seconds until I hear his footsteps walk off and the fridge door open and shut. Then I climb out the window and make my escape.
*****
Today is a day for weddings. Well, one in particular that I’m interested in. Zeke is marrying Bexley today. I stand at the airport for two hours with my phone ringing non-stop. Ignoring it, I catch the earliest flight and fly first class all the way back to L.A. Bexley picks me up at the airport and tells me she’s making a stop. She stops at a fancy store, one that is full of ball gowns and walks back out five minutes later with a dress bag. She places it on my lap and turns to me and smiles.
“You’re one of my bridesmaids,” she says, pointing to the dress and starting the car and driving off. She comes to a stop at a hotel and I follow her up the stairs.
“This better not be a big, fucking outrageous dress, Bex,” I tell her, holding it out in front
of me like it’s poison.
“It won’t bite you!” Bexley laughs, opening the door to her room that is full with a team of stylists and I groan loudly.
“Zeke said you’d complain.” Bexley grins. “But I said you’d do it because you want to prove him wrong,” she says laughing as she sits down and starts her hair and makeup.
“Why is your phone ringing so much?” she asks. I shrug my shoulders and she gets up and snatches my bag and pulls out my phone.
“Who’s dickhead?” she asks, reading the name Mika’s number is stored under from the screen.
“A dickhead,” I reply.
“Hello dickhead,” Bexley says into the phone. I jump up and try to tackle her, she leans back and lands on the bed with me on top of her, crawling up to grab at the phone. “Stop it!” She pushes me with her legs and I fall off onto the floor.
“Mika, oh, hi. Do you need Aria?” I get up and shake my head, she sees and purses her lips in thought. “No, ah ha.” She gives me a hard stare. “She will be with me, yes at…” She rattles off the address of the hotel and I snap the phone from her hand.
“Why did you do that? Do you want me to shoot you?” I ask her. She looks at me for a moment.
“You like him.” She smirks at me.
“Do not…”
“Do too…”
“Do not…”
“Do too…”
“What are we? Fucking five?” I retort.
“Do too, with a capital D,” she says, never wiping the smile off her face.
“Fuck off!” I tell her, flicking my wrist.
Chapter 18
The wedding ceremony is coming to an end. Zeke spins Bexley in his arms and pulls her to him, whispering in her ear. Her cheeks blush bright red and I smile watching them.
“He loves her so much,” Jagger says coming to stand next to me. I look at him and wonder why he’s even here. “I was planning to come before you did your escape.” He shrugs. “And, you may want to go out front. Someone is waiting for you,” he suggests, then backs up and walks away.
Bunching up my long white dress so it doesn’t drag on the floor, I walk out front. I’m wearing more makeup than I’ve ever worn in my life, my hair is styled and I look like a woman. Not a bad-ass-motherfucker woman, but a woman you would take home to your mother, until I open my mouth anyway.
Mika is leaning against his car, watching me as I walk down the stairs. He stands tall and takes a step toward me. I stop him from walking any further with a hand up, indicating for him to stop.
“You look like heaven,” he says.
“I taste like hell,” I smirk at him.
“I’d like to explore your theory further.” He smirks and looks delicious in a pinstripe suit which is hugging his body. I want to run my hands up and down him, touch him everywhere.
“You look fuckable,” I tell him honestly. He looks delicious, in fact.
“You think I’m fuckable?” He cocks his head. “I’d go more with hot-panty-melting-throw-your-mother-out-the-door good looking, but hey, that’s me.” He shrugs and sneaks up on me and snatches my waist pulling me closer. My heart beats faster and I wonder why it does that? Why is he making my stomach tingle and my palms sweat? What is this?
“Can you feel it?” he whispers, bringing his mouth closer to my neck and making me shiver.
“Feel what?” I whisper and wonder why my voice came out in such a husky low tone.
“You do,” he says, answering his own question. He breaks away and pulls me to the car. I follow behind, finding it difficult to walk in heels. He opens the door to let me in, driving for a few minutes before stopping at a condo. I exit the car and follow him up the stairs and he opens the door, standing to the side as I enter. The door slams and before I can turn around he pulls me back fast. My back and ass slam into his hard body.
“I want to taste hell.” Breathing heavily on my neck, his tongue darts out and licks from my shoulder to the back of my ear. I stand there my eyes closed and melting into him. He bites and I jump, but his hands keep me pinned where he wants me, not moving.
His teeth keep grazing my neck, he reaches my zipper at the back of my dress and the dress drops to the floor. His mouth leaves my neck and he spins me around fast. I now stand directly in front of him, in nothing but a white bra and white G-string, with white heels to match.
“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” he tells me. I step forward, brushing a hand across his chest and undoing his suit jacket, then smirk up at him.
“No, Mika, you’re about to enter hell.”
His clothes come off fast, he lifts me even faster. My legs wrap around his waist and he carries me to the couch. He lays me down on it and when he stands, he’s hard and completely naked. His arms are covered in ink, an eagle perched between his shoulders covering his chest, from one arm to another. He looks down at me, and I feel desired, but so much more. Men make me feel desired, wanted, I know they do. He’s looking at me as though he can’t help himself like I’m the last meal for a starving man. A starving man that’s about to ravish me, one with a hell of a cock.
“I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you,” he tells me. I clench my thighs and sit up. He stops me and instead stands over me, hovering, preventing me from moving forward.
“It’s my time to play,” he says, his eyes looking at me then descending down. They’re hooded, darker than normal, desire written all over his face. His finger slides under my G-string, he pulls hard and the thin fabric snaps. He throws them to one side and slides his fingers back up, unclasping my bra at the front and letting my tits break free. He hisses out a breath. A part of me wants to take control, he’s going too slowly for me. I know what I like, when I like it, and how I like it, but he doesn’t know this.
“Fuck!” I arch my back up and scream in pleasure. Too lost in my thoughts to even notice him drop to his knees in front of me, his tongue sliding up and down. He lifts and blows while I squirm. His mouth touches that perfect spot again and again, making my legs shake.
Feeling close, my mind gets lost in the pleasure as his tongue and lips take me. He inserts a finger, I arch again and I come undone. I pant and my hands relax from the scrunched up position they were in on the couch. My breathing is heavy, but I want more, I need more. I manage to sit up. He’s now standing in front of me, licking his lips, and I know he tastes me on him. His grin tells me so. I stand quickly and push him to the couch. Straddling him, I feel him near my entrance. He then does something that surprises me; he stands and deposits me on the ground. I lay there looking up at him, not liking that he’s holding more pleasure at bay.
“You’re not in charge, Aria.” He stops and kicks my legs open with his feet. “I am,” he says, rolling a condom on. I didn’t even think about protection, I was too lost in pleasure, something I never am. My head always knows what’s happening, seems just not with him.
“Place your hands down and hold onto the table. If you remove them, I stop,” he orders. Looking back, I notice a coffee table behind my head. My hands fly backward, gripping the legs. He gets down and pulls my legs up so they’re over his shoulders. He looks up and down my body and stops on my eyes. He watches me and as he thrusts into me, I arch and want to let go. “Don’t,” he warns me.
I hold on, his eyes pinned to mine. His body tortures me with his own, hitting every spot it needs to over and over. My legs tighten, my whole body tightens.
“Don’t,” he warns me again. My eyes are closed and I didn’t even realize. My hand was about to let go, my body relaxing and getting ready for the encore, the one that will have me screaming. I tighten my grip, but he slows his pace. I watch him. He’s doing it on purpose, his face clenched tightly, trying to stop himself from taking his own pleasure.
“I will take care of myself if you don’t fuck me harder,” I warn him. He smirks and continues moving very slowly. My hands are still gripped onto the fucking table like an idiot. He laughs and just before I let go, he slams into me, my whole b
ack lifting off the floor. He fucks me hard, but with passion. He continues watching me, his eyes never wavering and never closing.
“Fuck you, motherfucker!” I scream as I come. My hands drop, my body dying in bliss. He finishes and removes my legs, his weight settling on top of me. He kisses my breast and sucks my nipple. I try to force myself not to respond.
“Ready for round two?” he asks. I can’t move. His mouth hovers over my breast. I nod my head and he goes again.
Chapter 19
I wake pinned to a bed, well, pinned down by a human body. One that’s boiling hot and I need to cool down. I lift his hand from around my waist and sit up. His legs have trapped against the bed so I’m unable to move. I shove him, but he doesn’t move. I shove him again and his eyes open.
“Let me move,” I huff. He pulls me back down and holds me even tighter. “If you don’t let me move, I will piss all over you,” I warn. My bladder is screaming at me to go. His legs untangle from mine and he rolls over, pulling the pillow to him and dozing back off to sleep.
I take my time in the bathroom, showering and washing my hair. He even has women’s shampoo. I wonder why for a few seconds, but don’t second-guess it as I clean myself up. When finished, I walk from the bathroom in just a towel and my long dark hair thrown up into a wet, messy bun.
He’s completely dressed, with the phone glued to ear, talking rapidly. He spots me and ends his call quickly. In what seems like two steps he’s in front of me, his hand wraps around the back of my neck and he kisses me. His lips are soft and warm and taste like coffee. I open my mouth and his tongue dances with mine. Pulling me closer with his hands, molding our bodies together, he pulls back and looks at me.
“Get dressed. You need to go home,” he says stepping away, dialing someone else on his phone, and then walking out of the bedroom. I look around the room. The bed sheets are crisp white with stripes of blue through them. The walls are cream and it has an ocean feel with the blues and greens that decorate the room.