Skin (44 Chapters #1)

by B. B. Easton

  The same thing happened Saturday night, and again on Sunday. Knight managed to avoid talking about anything too heavy during our marathon conversations, but by Monday morning he sure knew everything there was to know about my chatty ass.

  Monday morning.

  I told myself it would be fine. I told myself, Knight doesn’t have any friends. Your secret is safe. No one has to know that you guys are…whatever you are.

  Then Knight kissed me at our lockers when it was time to go to first period. He held my hand on the way to the church parking lot. He seemed to be completely over his little aversion to hugging. And he carried my backpack for me everywhere.

  Knight even sat right fucking next to me at lunch. Right in Lance’s old seat. It felt so wrong. Like my lover had died and I’d already replaced him with another. But Lance hadn’t been my lover, and by the time he left, I wasn’t so sure that he’d ever even really been my friend.

  Juliet was super freaked out—I could tell—but she graciously ignored Knight and made small talk with August, who looked even sadder than usual.

  So maybe Knight didn’t need to open his mouth to spill our little secret after all. I had forgotten that Knight was a man of action, and his actions spoke way louder than words. In fact, on that particular day, they were screaming BB IS MINE! into a fucking bullhorn.

  The jig was up.

  Whether I liked it or not, I had become Skeletor the Skinhead’s girlfriend.

  That afternoon Knight carried my backpack on one shoulder and held my hand as we walked across the parking lot to his truck. It felt both completely natural and completely mortifying at the same time. We got more stares than usual, but over the next few weeks they died down.

  People accepted us as a couple pretty quickly, much to my dismay. Honestly, I couldn’t blame them. We both wore black combat boots, tight jeans, band T-shirts, and had shaved heads. To anybody on the outside I’m sure we looked like the perfect fucked-up couple.

  By mid-November I was still not really comfortable being affectionate toward Knight at school, but at Peg’s house, with no one else around, I discovered the unparalleled bliss of cuddling.

  Knight got over his hug aversion pretty damn quickly. After he finished his chores at Peg’s house we didn’t even flip on the TV anymore. Most days we didn’t even crack a beer. Instead we swan dived onto the couch where we would cuddle and kiss and float in and out of consciousness for hours.

  The best days were when we both fell asleep and I woke up first. There was no experience more delicious than lying captured under Knight’s heavy body, inhaling the sweet muskiness of his cologne, feeling his baby soft buzzcut against my cheek, and realizing that his heartbeat—usually so frantic in his chest—had slowed and synchronized with mine. Feeling that easy, steady rhythm pulsing through not just one body, but two, was better than any high, any buzz, any tweak I’d ever experienced.

  Nothing could possibly feel better than this, I thought as my fingertips traced the peaks and valleys of Knight’s broad back.

  But Knight was about to prove me wrong.

  Very, very wrong.

  It was the week before Thanksgiving break. Knight had just finished feeding Shep and patching up some molding around Peg’s back door, and I had just finished a beer and about two and a half cigarettes while watching him. I loved watching him.

  Whenever Knight looked at me I felt like he was memorizing the exact size and placement of every blemish, freckle, and pore on my face, but while he was working I got to watch him for a change. Everything he did he concentrated on fully, completed quickly and thoroughly, and cleaned impeccably afterward.

  Not that day, though. That day Knight tossed his tools aside the second he finished the job. As they clattered to the ground he yanked my ass off the bench on Peg’s back porch so fast I thought the damn thing must have been strapped with dynamite. Knight led me by the hand through the house and over to the couch without a word, then pulled me down onto his lap so that I was straddling him.

  Something was different. We usually laid down and cuddled before making out, but Knight already had his tongue in my mouth, his hands on my thighs, and his rapidly swelling cock filling the space between us. It startled me, but after a minute or two Knight had me worked into a fiery ball of need.

  Knight broke our kiss, and looked at me with hard eyes and soft, feathery blond lashes. “It’s been six weeks,” he said.

  “Six weeks since what?” I asked, a little breathless.

  “Since I pierced your nipples.”

  Seeing that mouth say that word, with that thing pressed against my sex had my hormones cranked up to eleven. Unsure what to do about it, I just froze and prayed that Knight would develop mind reading abilities.

  “Do you know what that means?” It was the same tone I imagined the Big Bad Wolf must have used when he said to Little Red Riding Hood, “Come closer, my dear.”

  Unblinking, I slowly shook my head from side to side, excited in the most terrifying way. It was taking all my willpower not to grind against the throbbing beast between my legs. I wanted to. I didn’t want to. I wanted to.

  Knight kneaded my thighs with his hands and narrowed his glacial eyes at me. The corners of his mouth twitched, like he was suppressing a sneer.

  “I’ll show you,” he said.

  Not waiting for a response, Knight lifted up my Ramones T-shirt and long-sleeved thermal undershirt at the same time. My arms cooperated and lifted up with them, allowing him to easily slip the garments over my head.

  With a deep breath, I reached back and unclasped my five-pound water bra. Even though Knight already knew I was flat chested, I didn’t need him handling the proof of my insecurity. I tossed it onto the floor next to the other half of my outfit and sucked in my stomach.

  I felt that old familiar fire crawl up my neck and into my cheeks as Knight stared at my body. The fire had crept into his eyes as well, turning them from arctic blue to white-hot. Knight’s hands slid from my hips to my ribs, then came to rest just under the slight swell of each petite breast.

  Like he’d done the morning after he pierced them, Knight grasped both of my winged barbells and gently slid them back and forth. That time there was no pain, only a lightning rod of pleasure that coursed through my veins like an actual electrical current. The sensation caused my eyes to roll back, my spine to arch, and my fingers to dig into Knight’s denim-covered thighs.

  My eyes flew open again when the sensation was replaced with something hot and wet on one side. I looked down and saw that Knight was still teasing my right nipple with his fingers, but his fuzzy blond head was hovering in front of my left, moving subtly as his tongue flicked across the surface of my diamond-hard nipple.

  I kept watching, my panties drenched, as he swirled his tongue around and around the perimeter, making sure to press and pull slightly on the barbell with every pass. But when his lips closed around my pebbled pink skin and sucked, I couldn’t watch anymore. I squeezed my eyes shut, threw my head back, and humped his enormous cock with abandon.

  Knight wrapped his hands around my waist and drove my movements. He slid my body up and down his length, lifting his hips to meet me, as he lavished my right nipple with the same attention he’d given my left. Just as my core began to contract I grabbed his face with both hands, lifted it to mine, and moaned into his mouth as the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had ripped through my body.

  I’d been masturbating almost daily since I was eight years old, but nothing I’d ever experienced or seen on TV had prepared me for that.

  Holy shit.

  Once I came down I wrapped my arms around Knight and buried my face in his neck. I wasn’t ready for him to look at me yet. Self-conscious doesn’t begin to describe what I was feeling.

  Knight put his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me back to my original position. I looked down to avoid having to make eye contact with him, which was a mistake because all I could see was cock. It looked like there was a log of cookie dough u
nder Knight’s clothes. And it wasn’t going away.

  “Look at me.”

  I peeked up through my lashes at him. His face was severe.

  “Do not be embarrassed about that,” he said, indicating that my prayer for him to suddenly develop telepathy must have come true. “Watching you come was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Knight gripped my hips and pressed his denim-covered member into my denim-covered crotch again. The pressure caused my muscles to contract immediately.

  “In fact,” Knight’s hands slid from my hips to the fly of my jeans and began unbuttoning, “I want to see you do it again.”

  I lifted up onto my knees to allow him access to my zipper. I wasn’t sure if I could handle another orgasm so soon, but I was willing to find out.

  I was willing to do anything to feel that again.

  In one motion Knight pulled my jeans and ruined panties down over my ass, just far enough to expose my bald pussy. I’d been shaving my whole body for years—in preparation for Lance, of course—but I was suddenly wishing I had at least a little patch of hair to hide behind.

  “Fuuuck,” Knight whispered as he slid his hands up the insides of my thighs. They came to rest on either side of my sex, and I held my breath and closed my eyes as he spread my naked pussy apart with his thumbs. The cool air reminded me what a slippery, wet mess I must have been, and I flushed harder.

  Oh my God! What is he doing? Fucking examining me?

  Knight took one thumb and circled it around my virginal entrance, then slid it back through my folds, bathing me in my own moisture. He then did the same thing with his other thumb, and I felt my hips jerk in response. Right thumb, left thumb, over, around, and through. The sensation was amazing, like a slow, slippery massage. Knight wasn’t fingering me—which was what I’d assumed was next—he was exploring me.

  Knight leaned forward and flicked his tongue across my right nipple as his thumbs continued their sensual assault. “Lean back,” he breathed against my skin as his tongue danced in unhurried circles down the length of my torso.

  Looking behind me I gauged the distance from the couch to the weathered wooden table, then created a bridge between the two with my body, propping myself up on my forearms. In that position I was completely exposed to him, and completely immobilized.

  I took a deep, shuttering breath and peeked down through my lashes just as Knight’s mouth reached the crest of my mound. He looked up at me with blue eyes blazing, then dragged his sharp, straight nose down the length of my slit. It was a movement I recognized. Knight was telling me that he was about to put his mouth—

  There.

  Holy fucking shit.

  I watched it happen. One second Knight’s nose was grazing my clit, and the next second it was replaced by his tongue.

  His tongue!

  I couldn’t spread my legs any wider with my jeans around my thighs, but I wanted to. I wanted to wrap them around his fucking ears. Knight spread my pussy lips apart with his thumbs for better access, and alternated between flicking and swirling his tongue against the most sensitive parts of me.

  And I couldn’t even move.

  I thought I was going to pass out from the pleasure. I clutched the edge of the table and looked down to reorient myself. The sight of Knight’s fuzzy blond buzzcut between my thighs, fucking me with his mouth, made me come instantly. My fingers dug into his scalp as my inner muscles squeezed and grasped at nothing.

  Then Knight gave them something to squeeze. A thick finger suddenly slipped inside of me, and my body greedily clenched around it as it pumped in and out. It took all my strength to stay upright as I came, and came, and came—my spindly arms and legs shaking with effort and exertion.

  As my orgasm receded, Knight wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. I melted into him, turning into a mostly naked, fully sated, practically purring heap of bones. He kissed the top of my head as I snuggled deeper into his embrace. I wasn’t in Peg’s house anymore. I wasn’t in my own body. I was in a sunny meadow picking petals off daisies, asking them if he loved me or loved me not. He loves me, the last one always said.

  Up to that point I had tried alcohol, caffeine pills, marijuana, LSD, cocaine, crank, prescription pain killers, and ecstasy, but I had never felt euphoria like that.

  I wondered, from my faraway place, if I could ever make Knight feel as happy as I was right then. He was so angry and hateful all the time. Maybe he just needed…to come.

  As I wiggled to get comfortable, which wasn’t easy with my jeans still around my thighs, I realized that Knight’s erection still hadn’t gone away.

  Far from it.

  I wanted to do something to reciprocate, I really did, but wanting to and knowing how were two totally different things. I’d never even seen a penis in real life. Maybe if it had been a little cute one I would have been more willing to experiment, but that thing? I felt like I needed to take a class or something first. Get certified. Get some shots. Maybe have an ambulance on standby.

  I settled on pretending to be asleep while I waited for it to go away. That technique had been working for me so far—why fuck with a good thing? Besides, seeing Knight’s penis would probably harsh my mellow, and right then I felt way too good to do anything other than cuddle and pretend to snore.

  After that day, Knight went down on me every single day after school.

  Let me repeat that.

  Every.

  Single.

  Day.

  I was done giving two shits about who saw us together at school or how it made me look. That crazy motherfucker with the colorless hair and the colorless eyes who wore skinhead clothes imported from England even though he wasn’t even racist and beat the shit out of people with almost no provocation was the same motherfucker who made me notebook paper flowers because I was sad. The same one who said, “You don’t eat, I don’t eat.” The same one who gave me his jacket, pierced my nipples, drew me pictures, held my hand, lit my cigarettes, told me I was beautiful, and most importantly, gave me mind-blowing orgasms every day with zero pressure to reciprocate.

  In four short months, Knight had gone from being the person I feared most on this planet to the center of my whole fucking universe.

  Happily, people didn’t seem to treat me any differently, as long as Knight wasn’t around. Nobody accused me of being a white supremacist. Juliet and I even stayed friends—we just didn’t talk about our boyfriends. Ever. August kind of withdrew though—even more than usual—and he looked like he’d lost some weight. I felt bad for the guy. I guess I should have invited him to hang out at Colton’s house with us, but then there’d be no cunnilingus, and damnit, that was the best part of my day.

  But when Knight was around, it was an entirely different story. His don’t-fucking-come-near-me aura eclipsed my friendly-perky-approachable one tenfold. I wished people could see the side of him that I knew. I wished that I knew why he insisted on keeping them away, why he wanted them to hate him.

  It felt like Knight was really two people. Ronald—the sweet, chivalrous, artistic, animal-loving boy with the fuzzy blond head who lived to cuddle and eat pussy, and Knight—the heartless, hopeless, hate-fueled, tattooed, bodybuilding inferno of violence and intimidation.

  Then, one day in mid-December, Ronald and Knight converged.

  That fall had been warmer than usual, so the trees hadn’t reached the height of their ruddy spectrum until maybe the week before. Another week or two and they’d be bare. It made me sad. I hated that winter was coming. I hated being cold. I was always fucking cold.

  On the way to Peg’s house, I asked Knight if he would drive back up to the water tower. I wanted to take in the fall leaves and appreciate the sunshine before they both disappeared. I rolled down my window and actually giggled as Knight’s truck bounced and snarled up the hill, more confident that we weren’t going to flip over and die that time.

  Knight parked in the same spot that he had before, but the vibe was completely dif
ferent. No one was after us—thanks to three payments to Tony, so far—and I wasn’t afraid of being alone in the woods with a skinhead anymore, either.

  Oh, and the music drifting out of Knight’s back window was definitely not country.

  Knight gave me a boost into the bed of his truck, and I scrambled over to the open window to get a better listen. Turning back to him, I squealed in utter disbelief, “You own a Mazzy Star CD?”

  Knight hopped into the truck bed, flask in hand, and sat down with his back against the glass. One leg out straight in front of him and one knee pulled up, pointing toward the bulbous blue-green tower blooming overhead. Shrugging, he said, “You love this song.”

  “How do you know?” I asked, my mouth hanging open in amazement.

  Knight shifted his weight and pulled his knife, lighter, and a hard pack of Camel Lights—he’d switched to my brand—out of his pocket.

  “Because when it came on while we were at the Waffle House you got all fuckin’ excited and said, ‘I love this song.’” Knight reached out and stuck an unlit cigarette into my open mouth and smirked at me.

  I went to smack him on the shoulder, but Knight caught my wrist in mid-air and yanked me down into his lap. I landed with a gasp between his legs, my back to his front.

  Sigh.

  The view was all crimson and copper and gold, sprinkled with white crosses like confetti. The air was cooler in the shade, but Knight’s body kept me warm. I think it was the inferno of hate that burned inside of him. He always seemed to run hot.

  Remembering that I still had an unlit cigarette in my mouth, I turned my head sideways so that Knight could see it and wiggled it back and forth with my tongue—the universal sign for I need a light. Right on cue, Knight reached for his Zippo. The action brought my attention to the collection of crap he’d pulled out of his pockets. Before I could think better of it, I picked up his knife and began studying it. Knight didn’t seem to mind.