Gods & Monsters

by Saffron A Kent

  God, no.

  I’m not letting him go. This time if they come, I’ll wrap myself around his body and fuse us together. In his eyes, I see the same thought.

  Us against the world.

  Abel leans down and places a dry, chaste peck on my lips. “It’s okay. It’s just Ethan.”

  Then he puts his arm on my shoulders and hauls me to his side, completely belying his calm words.

  Ethan’s striding toward us. He has brown wavy hair and smiling green eyes. His grin is easy and friendly like he’s been grinning all his life, and never had a reason to stop.

  “Jesus Christ, I never thought I’d see you again.” Then he scrunches up his nose. “Though, man. What’d you do to your face?”

  Abel laughs. “I took a punch like a man, instead of ducking like a girl.”

  “One time, dude. One fucking time. Let that go, already. It’s been six years,” Ethan grumbles, shaking his head. Then he swings his eyes at me. “And who’s this pretty girl you haven’t let go of since the second I saw you?”

  Oh shit. Abel should’ve at least offered a handshake to his long-lost friend but he hasn’t stopped touching me. I should probably nudge him forward but I hook my finger in his belt loop. I don’t think we can ever stop touching each other without an intense fear of somehow, being separated.

  Abel kisses my forehead and introduces me. “This is my Pixie. My fiancée.”

  My body warms up at the word fiancée. I flex the finger that holds his ring, claiming me as his. All through the drive up here, I played with the white ring, flicked the diamond. I wanted to kiss it over and over. I wanted to kiss him over and over.

  I smile at Ethan. “Hey.”

  “No shit,” he murmurs, completely astonished, staring at me.

  “None.” I grin and decide to play the part of a fiancée and quit being needy, offering him my hand to shake.

  He takes it, still watching me with curiosity. “That’s an interesting name. Pixie.”

  I smirk up at Abel, who shrugs sheepishly. But before he can correct himself, I say, “Yeah. It is.”

  Call it crazy, but I don’t want to correct my fiancé. I don’t want to be Evie anymore. I want to be Abel’s Pixie.

  “Let her go, asshole,” Abel growls. “Unless you want me to get rid of your arm for you.”

  Laughing, Ethan withdraws his hand. “Is he like this all the time?” Then, he ducks his head and stares at the ground. “Ah, okay. Not yet.”

  “Not yet what?” I ask, frowning at the ground too.

  “Nothing. Just wanted to check and see if he’s pissed a circle around you yet.”

  I giggle, while Abel grumbles over me. “Just keep watching the space. He might one of these days.”

  “Damn. I like her, dude.”

  Blushing with pleasure, I look at my feet and Abel kisses my hair, murmuring, “Yeah, I like her too. A lot.”

  New York is going to be awesome.

  ***

  Ethan lives above a Chinese restaurant. The stairs leading up to his place are rickety, even more rickety and unstable than where Abel used to live until yesterday. But I’m not afraid as I should be. I know Abel won’t let me fall.

  As soon as we reach the landing though, I pause, more like freeze. There are sounds emerging from one of the three red doors crammed together. Someone is moaning like they are in pain. It’s high-pitched and whiny, punctuated with grunts and squeaks. My eyes widen when I realize what they are. They are sex sounds.

  Someone is having sex. Two someones. There are two sets of sounds, one masculine and the other feminine. Oh, and they are loud.

  Whoa.

  Shouldn’t they be like… less loud? Do they know we can hear them? Oh my God, is it coming from Ethan’s apartment?

  With every question, I feel my heart racing faster. I feel my tired body waking up in so many ways. I’m a teeny tiny bit fascinated, and I’m a little bit… aroused when I hear the squeaking sound getting louder, and one moan merging into another, making it a constant needy sound.

  Yesterday I was naked with my thighs wrapped around Abel’s hips, ready to give it up. Would I have sounded like that? Would the whole town have known that I was having sex with my Abel? Well, they already think that I did, didn’t they? They already think that I gave it up. That I became a whore because I spread my thighs for the guy I love.

  Bastards.

  I gulp as my nipples bead and a quickening starts up in my stomach. I grab the hem of Abel’s t-shirt, feeling like a lost little girl who’s nervous and turned on and angry.

  He stops and looks down at me. He can tell I’m a confused mess because he puts his hand on my cheek and whispers, “You trust me?”

  “Only you.”

  “Then, come on.”

  He takes my hand and pulls me forward.

  “Loud neighbors,” Ethan confirms, unlocking the middle door and putting me more at ease that it’s not his apartment that’s noisy.

  The very first thing I notice about his place is that it’s tiny and smells of seafood; I’m guessing that’s the restaurant below. But then as I walk in further, I kick myself for noticing those things. Because those aren’t the things to notice when you enter a space like this.

  No, the thing to notice in Ethan’s apartment is that it’s covered in mirrors. There are mirrors everywhere, on every wall. Some small, a couple of them big and tall. Standing in the middle of the living/dining room combo, holding Abel’s hand, I look around.

  We’re reflected in every corner, Abel and me. We both look like a mess, hair in disarray, clothes wrinkled and dried and smudged with dirt after the rain from last night. But I focus on our joined hands. That looks pretty. That looks like it’s meant to be. I squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. We smile at each other’s reflections.

  Then I turn to Ethan, who’s grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge. “So, you’ve got a thing for mirrors, huh?”

  He laughs. “Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”

  Well, that’s weird. But who am I to judge?

  We put our luggage in one of the two rooms located in the back of the house, through a hallway. The room only has a mattress — no bed — a small closet and of course, a floor-length mirror. I giggle at Abel but he only gives me a smoldering look, like he’s thinking something dirty.

  After taking turns showering in the world’s tiniest bathroom where you can’t fit with your arms spread wide, we order a pizza and eat it up like we’ve never eaten before. It’s not until I’m licking my fingers clean and watching Abel laugh with Ethan that I realize I didn’t say grace before eating. This is the first time I’ve missed it. It makes me think of home. Of Mom and Dad.

  By now, they must know that I’m gone. They must know that I chose Abel over them. Over everything. Are they looking for me? Sky would be their first suspect. God, I didn’t even think about how this would affect her. Maybe I should call her.

  “What’s the story here, then? Are you guys running from the cops, pissed off parents? Both?” Ethan jokes, sitting on the floor with Abel.

  I stiffen on the couch; the pizza sits like a rock in my stomach. Abel notices my distress and chimes in, “Why, you afraid of a little trouble?”

  “Shut it, asshole. I’m serious. If that’s the case, then you guys need to be careful, you get me? Pissed off parents have a lot of power, trust me. Speaking from experience.”

  Abel’s jaw clenches and I’m regretting my choice of seat. I should’ve sat closer to him, where I could touch him. As it is, my words will have to be enough. “My parents can’t take me away. They’re not that powerful.”

  “No one is that powerful,” Abel says, curling his fists. “Not a single person. I’ll fucking kill them first.”

  For a few seconds, all I can do is watch my fiancé. All I can do is stare into his rage-filled eyes, his beaten-up face. His violence soothes me, even as it stokes my own anger. He’s right. No one can tear us apart.

  I can’t let that happen. I won’t
let that happen. It’s imperative that we get married as soon as possible because I won’t be able to rest easy until then. I won’t be able to rest easy until I’m completely his.

  “Whoa,” Ethan breathes. “Okay, that’s settled, then. My new roommates are a bunch of murderers. So how about a beer and a little Netflix? You know, to chill out?”

  The moment’s broken. The intensity is gone. And for some reason, it makes me giggle. Maybe it’s the exhaustion and the entire surreal quality of this situation that makes me laugh. I slap my hand on my mouth and Abel’s lips twitch.

  “Netflix’s great,” I say once my laughter is under control.

  I crawl over to Abel and tuck myself into his body, as we watch something mindless on TV. I’m only half paying attention because Abel and Ethan are chatting and making jokes together.

  It makes me realize that I’ve never seen Abel this happy. He laughs with me, chuckles. But he never really had anyone back in our town. He had a few acquaintances at school but they weren’t really his friends.

  Abel was trapped back there.

  Because of me. He wouldn’t leave because that town was my home. I’m so glad we’re out of there. So glad that we’re done with that place.

  Things are working out already. Ethan’s a photographer too, and he says that he’s going to bring Abel to his studio and try to hook him up with a job. Isn’t that wonderful?

  Abel’s going to be a photographer and I’m going to look for a job of my own and try to write in my free time. Isn’t that what I wanted to do? I’ve always wanted to be a writer and now I’m in the most artsy city in the world. Imagine all the stories New York has. Imagine all the people I can meet and write about.

  I twist the ring on my finger, and it catches Abel’s attention. Ethan’s still saying something but Abel’s watching me. Smiling, I mouth I love you, and he gives me his signature reply: a smirk.

  Yup, New York is going to be the best adventure of our lives.

  That boy will be your downfall.

  I jerk awake at my dad’s voice ringing in my ears. For a second, I feel empty, bereft, like I’ve been sleeping with sadness wrapped around my body instead of a blanket.

  But then everything rushes back. The rain, the running, Abel’s proposal, the drive, the wind in my hair, the highway. New York.

  We’re safe. We’re in New York. And I’m sleeping next to the boy I love.

  His arm is thrown over my waist, almost flattening me to the bed. Oh wait, we only have a mattress. His bronzed fingers are super close to my breasts. Actually, his thumb is touching my nipple that now stands to attention. My back is flush with his chest – naked chest – and his big thigh is wedged between my legs.

  I’m sweating with my own personal heater at my spine. Well, what else can you expect when you sleep with the sun? The window right above us doesn’t have curtains or bars like my old window, so I can see pieces of the sky. It’s pink and purple with dawn a few minutes away.

  Biting my lip, I wiggle my butt and feel his dick jerk. Abel hums but doesn’t wake up. He must be dead tired. After an early dinner last night, we both crashed. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow and I guess he did too. The events of the last forty-eight hours had sucked us dry.

  Slowly, I turn around in his arms and face him. I watch him with wonder. So, this is what Abel looks like first thing in the morning: his messy hair sticking up; that silver chain, flung to the side, resting on his pillow; the stubble; his pink lips slightly parted. The only unusual occurrence is the colored, misshapen bruises.

  We were just playing with each other. Abel was only taking photos and I was willing. He wasn’t hurting anyone. He’s been evasive but I think they were rough with him in the jail. I think the only reason they kept him in there was to scare him away. To show that they were more powerful than him, than us.

  I touch his bruises, gingerly, carefully, trying to not add any additional pain. His stubble is scratchy against my skin, ticklish but with a sharp edge. My fingers travel down to his hard jaw, the line of his throat, over the bump of his Adam’s apple.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  My eyes whip up at the sound of his sleepy whisper. “I’m sorry, did I wake you? I didn’t mean to.”

  “If you weren’t trying to wake me then you shouldn’t have touched me.”

  I laugh softly. “What, are you my own sleeping prince now? I touch you and you wake from slumber?”

  I don’t know how he does it but even first thing in the morning with the cobwebs of sleep hanging over us, he throws me his perfect typical smirk. “I think you’re forgetting the story, Pixie.”

  “Really?”

  “Uh-huh.” He stretches, all muscular and sexy-like, and props his head on his hand, looking down at me with a wicked glint in his eyes. “You gotta kiss the prince to wake him up.”

  I shake my head, smiling and slide closer to him, and kiss his chin. “Here. Are you fully awake now?”

  “Not the kind of kiss I had in mind. Not in the area I had in mind either. Maybe try going lower. A lot lower.”

  He nudges my stomach with his dick, which feels like the hardest thing ever. Hardest and biggest thing I’ve ever felt. “You’re such a…”

  Abel laughs, grabbing my hands and turning me on my back. He finds a home in between my thighs, making me realize I’m only wearing my thin nightshirt with sunflowers on it, and he’s only wearing a pair of black boxers.

  “I’m such a what?” He bumps my nose with his.

  “Such a gentleman.” I roll my eyes.

  “Damn it. I need to up my game. My Pixie doesn’t like gentlemen.”

  “She does, too.”

  That makes him laugh harder. “She wishes. My dirty talk gets her hot, though.”

  When he’s laughing like this, I can’t even pretend to be mad at him. I can’t look away either. God. God. He’s so sexy, and so mine.

  “I can’t believe I’m waking up next to you.”

  His jaw clenches as his eyes fill with emotions. “Believe it, baby. This is our life now. You and me. Together.”

  I finger the edges of a yellow bruise on his jaw as love for him surges within me. Love and lust and an innate need to please. Like a woman pleases her man. A queen pleases her king. I want to somehow thank him, make him see that he’s the most powerful man on this Earth. “I want you to take,” I whisper, heart in my throat, on my tongue.

  He frowns for a second before the confusion clears and he understands what I mean. If my parents hadn’t shown up that night, I would’ve slept with him. I would’ve given him the last piece of my soul.

  I want to do that now. This is our new life and I want to start it right.

  His eyes turn dark, like they do when lust is ruling him. Dark and delicious and bottomless, and his skin turns even more heated, like the blood is rushing, burning through his veins at a breakneck speed.

  So, I’m surprised that he tries to move away. I don’t let him though. I hug him with my thighs and cross my ankles at his back, keeping him glued to me.

  “Pixie, stop.”

  “No.” I arch my hips and practically shove my slick, slick core onto his hard cock.

  Damn it. I wish I wasn’t wearing panties so he could feel how wet I am. As it is, I’m rubbing my covered pussy up and down the outline of his erection, hoping and praying that he understands that it is for him. All this wetness and creaminess; it’s his for the taking.

  “I’m not gonna fuck you, all right?” He strains against my hold, but I latch all my limbs around him.

  “Why not?”

  “Because.”

  “That’s not an answer.” I clutch his silver cross and yank him even closer. “Tell me why.”

  Abel stares at me with fight in his eyes, but then sags, the tension leaving his body. “I’m not gonna fuck you the first morning we’re together in New York.”

  Okay, that sounds ridiculous to me because no one is going to come and interrupt us anymore. We can do whatever
we want, right? I ask again, “Why not? We’re here. I’m ready. Why won’t you?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’ve already taken too much. I took you from your parents’ house and brought you here. To this strange place with thin fucking walls. You’re sleeping on the floor. I can’t… I can’t take your virginity too. Not until we get a decent place, a bed. I don’t even have a job right now. I’ve got some money saved up but I need to know that I can take care of you. That I can provide. You’re mine now, Pixie.” He fists my hair. “It’s like I’ve been fucking dying to call you mine and now that you are, I’m terrified. What if I can’t keep you? What if I’m not a good husband?”

  “Okay, first: I chose to come with you. I chose you.” I grit my teeth, hugging him tighter. “Second: you’re going to have a job tomorrow. They’re going to love you over there. You’re so talented, Abel. Your pictures are amazing. And who cares where we live for a while? Yeah, there’s sex noises and a weird mirror fetish but trust me, okay? It doesn’t matter. And third…” I raise my eyebrows. “I’m not the only virgin in this room. You may be theoretically prepared after watching your videos and whatnot. But everyone knows practical knowledge goes a long way. Maybe you’re afraid to disappoint me, but that’s okay. I’ll understand.”

  His muscles ripple under my touch as he stares down at me with pure arrogance. “Oh, you’ll understand, will you?”

  It worked. Ah, guys and their big egos. I should remember this for future reference. But for now, I’m happy that the black shadow on his face is gone. I can’t see him dejected.

  “Uh-huh.” I throw him a sweet smile, playing along. “So you have nothing to worry about. You’ve always left me satisfied before. I’m sure you’ll do a good job now, too.”

  He chuckles, his fist going really tight in my hair. “You’ve done it now, baby.”

  I arch my hips, feeling oddly happy and satisfied. “What have I done?”

  “So, my Pixie’s a cock-tease and she loves to poke a bear, is that right?”

  “Maybe.” I shrug. “But only because I know my bear’s hungry.”

  He takes my mouth in a kiss. A big, wet kiss. With every brush of our tongues, the kiss turns wilder. Our mouths smack against each other, our teeth clack. It must be hurting his bruised lip but he doesn’t seem to care. His tongue invades my mouth, stroking and flicking, riding a wave, making me moan.