Burn

by R. J. Lewis

  What were my options right now? Remy wasn’t going to let me go. Though his answer of keeping me out of that gang had appeared honourable, it didn’t make sense for him to get angry like that. There was something else, and I knew what it was. The way he looked at me, the fact he’d been looking after me all these years… The guy wanted me.

  I tried so damn hard to remember his face at the bar all that time ago. Why had he even been there? There was keeping track of someone – something most would do from afar. Then there was watching someone at their work, and flirting, and feeling them provocatively.

  I grimaced at the memory. Jaxon had watched all of it. Oh, fuck, had Remy known he was there? If he did—

  “You alright?”

  I jumped and hurriedly brought my knees to my chest. Remy was standing in the middle of the bathroom without a fucking care in the world. Had he no manners?!

  “What are you doing?” I nearly yelled.

  “I called you before, and you didn’t answer.”

  “So you just decided to walk in on me?”

  No pursed lips, no furrow of the brows, it seemed Remy had calmed down heaps. He was even hiding a closed lip smile by lazily itching his nose. He had a beautiful face under his light beard. Although the beard itself added a rough edge to his look, I imagined beneath it was a boyish beauty concealed in the hopes of emphasizing his ruggedness. His eyes were large and rimmed with thick black eyelashes, his lips were thin and blood red when he licked them. It was very distracting.

  “You’ve been in here awhile. Just makin’ sure you’re okay,” he stated, still standing in the exact same spot a few feet away. Still staring, too. His eyes made no attempt at being discreet. They frisked me head to toe, though I doubt there was much to see except a wide eyed, messy haired girl curled in the corner.

  “Well, I am.” The shittiness in my tone was evident, and I did my best to execute the best scowl possible. My attempt at intimidation failed spectacularly because now he was full on grinning. Smug bastard.

  Then he took a few steps forward, until the water was lightly spraying him and leaned over. My body tensed and my eyes watched in shock as he… turned the water off. Cheeky fucker. He grabbed the fluffy towel and threw it at me.

  “Hurry up, Birdy.” Without waiting for a response, he turned around and left.

  I hugged the towel to my chest. Strange knots formed in the pit of my belly at his abrupt intrusion. The man was all kinds of weird. At least he isn’t angry anymore. No, he certainly wasn’t. The unreadable Remy was slowly unravelling before me.

  I accomplished no breakthrough from that shower break. I was still confused as all hell. One thing I knew was if Remy had taken a liking to me, I wanted to use that to my advantage. Horrible and selfish thinking, I know, but I didn’t want to be inside these four walls a long time. If I could convince him to trust me…

  Well, then what? Sigh. Back to the drawing board.

  I put on a pair of abnormally tight jeans and a silky red top that had gold, stringy bead patterns on the collar. Weird gypsy shit. Honestly, where did he get these clothes from? Then I quickly finger combed through my hair and stepped out.

  Remy was right. I’d been in that shower for a long time because while I was contemplating my life and how far in the shitter it was, Remy had transformed the room into a habitable comfort zone.

  First thing I noticed was the television sitting on a sturdy brown stand and a shitload of movies stacked in the shelves of it. A small dresser had been placed alongside the same wall, and there were pony tails, combs and hair clips neatly set up on it. There was a bar fridge beside the bed and a stack of magazines on top of it.

  Everything was in a state of organized chaos, with boxes neatly stacked to the side so the room still afforded some space. He was in the middle of setting up an oval mirror stand in the corner when I’d reappeared. I’m not sure how I was feeling; there were a bunch of strange and conflicting emotions. It was nice of him to consider my comfort, but having it so set up just further confirmed that I would be staying put in this room for some time. That was a bite of dread that sat in the pit of me.

  The reality of my situation hit me hard. I had no choice but to be here. My freedom had been revoked.

  “You sure work fast,” I commented.

  His vest was off and the sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up. He had big arms and broad shoulders, very well in shape… Just looking at him, I wondered how old he was.

  “How old are you?” The question slipped out, and I felt dumb for asking. Talk about random.

  “Thirty three,” he answered, turning to look at me. “Why do you ask?”

  I shrugged. “Curious.” When I was fourteen, he was twenty two. It wasn’t so bad I’d crushed on a man only eight years older than me. In my head I’d thought he was older.

  I took a seat back on the bed and watched him go about the room, organizing things one bit at a time.

  “Are you intending on leaving me here alone with a bunch of movies to fight the boredom?”

  He stopped unpacking a box and met my gaze. “I’m not intendin’ on goin’ anywhere this weekend. Thought I’d make it more comfortable for the two of us.”

  Well then. What do you say to that? I simply gave him a nod and pretended the doona was a fascinating thing to observe. I traced the square patterns while keeping track of his movements in my peripheral. We were going to be here for two days, minimum. Just what was he trying to accomplish by doing this?

  “Don’t you have a mega-huge impressive clubhouse where you guys all kick back at?” I asked.

  “Yep,” was his vague answer.

  “Why didn’t you take me there?”

  “Who says you’re not at the clubhouse now?”

  My eyebrows bunched up and I studied his face. Mr Serious stared back. No fucking way we were at the clubhouse. Were we?

  He grabbed a bunch of movies and threw them on the bed in front of me. “Tell me what you wanna watch. It’s gonna be a good way to pass time if we got somethin’ on that screen.”

  I went through the movies, most I’d seen, others I’d wanted to. I shot him a dubious look when I noticed a trend. No way was this guy into this stuff. They were all romance movies, my kind of genre. I’d enjoyed tormenting myself over the years watching love stories with sweet and cliché happily-ever-afters. Looked like I was going to do it again… with a big Jackal by my side.

  It wasn’t a matter of choosing what to watch. It was a matter of choosing what to watch first because, judging by the way Remy propped himself on the other end of the bed comfortably relaxed, we were going to be in for the long haul.

  *****

  “You have to put the car in reverse to back out, Tiny.”

  I shot him an irritated look as I sat behind the wheel of our old Toyota four wheel drive. “I know that, Jaxon. Stop repeating yourself.”

  Jaxon smiled. “You’re going to be the world’s shittiest driver, you know that?”

  “Why?”

  “Because you don’t even know how to put it in reverse. Look at you, you’re stalling.”

  I smacked him on the shoulder but didn’t admit that he was right. I didn’t know how to drive a manual. I sat behind the wheel and stared long and hard at the stick shift. Why couldn’t life be easy? I’d begged him for an auto. Autos were simple. They fit my dumbass self just right.

  “You bought a manual on purpose, didn’t you? Probably doing this on purpose so I don’t ever leave the apartment when we get to Winthrop.”

  He chuckled. “Not everything is about making your life a living hell, Sara. I bought the car because it was cheaper than an auto was. Stop stalling and start driving.”

  “You’re meant to be telling me how to!”

  He proceeded to show me the steps. I followed to the best of my abilities. He had me driving on the outskirts of Gosnells and down the long empty roads in the farming division. He refused to stop, telling me over and over again to try harder, to think about what I was
doing, to stop whining about wanting to give up because it was too hard.

  I deserved a pat on the back by the end of my three hour lesson. I hadn’t crashed us once which, for a girl who sucked at multitasking with an annoying stick shift, was a massive accomplishment.

  The sun was starting its downward dip below the horizon when Jaxon finally took over. He stopped the car on an emergency lane beside a knee high grassy field that bordered a vineyard. When we both stepped out, he took my hand and we waded into the grass, feeling the final heat of the sun before it disappeared. The summer had been a horrid one. We’d been indoors most of it in front of the aircon in the living room. We’d set a mattress down on the floor so we could sleep through the nights without melting.

  Lucinda had also taken up space in the living room, sleeping on the couch beside us. There we’d all watch a flick on the television. When Lucinda finally fell asleep at ten o’clock exactly, Jaxon and I would cautiously make out under the covers. It’d been two weeks of epic make out sessions, unable to take a step further because we were in the midst of his mom, and that was just downright wrong.

  So many nights I’d feel the hardness of him against me, grinding for some sense of relief. The arousal on his face was enough to have me aching for my own release too. Come morning time, we were bratty, irritable and horny as all hell, but with the weather so disgustingly hot again, it was a damper on our libido.

  During our most desperate moments, he’d taken me into the shower and we’d… connect that way. Nothing was hotter than a shower soaked Jaxon licking every bit of water off of me. It was also where I’d first asked to experiment with him.

  “Do you ever wanna do stuff?” I’d eagerly asked.

  “I always wanna ‘do stuff,’” he answered, laughter in his eyes at my very vague question.

  “I mean, did you ever want me to… you know… do more with you?”

  He sighed in irritation. “Sara, if you want to try something, just let me know.”

  “It’s embarrassing for me. This is still new for me, Jaxon.”

  “You can be the biggest wench in the world at times, and yet you can’t be vulgar when it comes to fucking?”

  I tensed at his word. “Do you have to make it sound so smutty?”

  He grinned, raking both hands through his wet long hair. Fuck, he was sexy. Fuck, I would eat him with a –“I’m a smutty man, Tiny. Now tell me what you wanted to do.”

  I didn’t want to tell him. Instead, I looked down at his length and then at him. Then I did it over and over again, waiting for him to make the connection. He simply raised his brows and pretended to play dumb.

  “Jaxon!”

  “Just say it.”

  My cheeks went hot, and I quickly splashed the water over my face to stave off the blood flow. “I like when you go down on me,” I said quietly. “I want to return the favour.”

  He smiled brightly, though I could see his eyes had darkened at the same time. “So you want to…”

  I exhaled. “I want to…”

  “Yes?”

  “I want to… suck your penis.”

  He grimaced suddenly. “That was possibly the most unsexy thing I’ve ever been told.”

  I blanched. “What?”

  “Tiny, you don’t say penis in sexual situations, especially in foreplay.”

  I scowled now. “Dick?”

  “No.” He gave me a hard look. “Come on, then. You know the word.”

  I pursed my lips. Talk about making this into an awkward situation! I felt grouchy, and bratty. I’m not doing shit, I decided.

  He read me like a book. “Tiny, I’ll return the favour too.”

  My heart leaped. Oh, the feeling of his mouth there. The heat of it alone was enough to blow the circuits in my brain. “I want to suck your cock.” I speedily said.

  “Say it again.”

  “Jaxon.”

  “Say the word again,” he demanded, no funny business.

  I rolled my eyes. “Cock.”

  “Keep saying it. The more it’s said, the easier it’ll be to say it again.”

  “Cockcockcockcockcock.”

  He laughed lightly. “Now that is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I know. I’m so romantic, huh?”

  “The most romantic. Get on your knees.” The smile on his face vanished the second I situated my knees on the rough, tiled floor. Was this shit meant to be so uncomfortable?

  “Are you going to tell me what to do?” I asked him, for I was in a sea of unknown.

  “It’s not rocket science, Tiny. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.”

  Well, some help he was! He was already hard the second I took him into my hand and guided him up and down.

  “Are you even going to fit inside my mouth?” I muttered doubtfully.

  “While I thank you for the compliment, I’m going to ask you to stop talking and start doing, Tiny, or else I’m going to slam my cock inside your mouth without your permission.”

  Well then.

  I took him into my mouth immediately; after a few moments and the sounds of his grunting later, I felt strangely euphoric. This was actually turning me on! His cock got bigger and he shuddered as I worked him slowly, getting acquainted with his beautiful man tool.

  After a while, he gripped my hair and moved faster, careful not to go in too deep for my first go. Despite the fact my mouth was sore and my knees were screaming obscenities at me, I felt powerful and aroused beyond measure at the noises he was making.

  Just as he worshipped me, I did the same, even learning along the way what pushed him to the brink. I teased him relentlessly and he’d grip my hair sometimes so tight I’d yelp and bat away his hands. I was surprised how welcoming the taste of him was.

  “I’m going to come, Sara,” he tensely said. “Move away.”

  I didn’t, and he came with a fury into my mouth. The abrupt taste of saltiness was unsettling, and I spat it out immediately.

  Swallowing was not a Sara Nolan thing, I decided.

  “That was so fucking good,” he groaned, his face flushed as though he’d run a thousand mile marathon.

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  I felt so… proud! And then I felt like a ho for feeling proud. I mean, I just gave my boyfriend a blowjob and wanted to hear how awesome I was at it, as if I was a teacher’s pet begging for a sticker.

  “Now it’s my turn!” I giddily said because no one woman should give a knee-breaking blowjob and be robbed of her own pleasure!

  After he’d returned the favour, we stepped out and dried ourselves off. He opened the door as I talked about my awesomeness.

  “So you really enjoyed it?” I grinned. “Did you want me to suck harder? Lesser? Faster?”

  “What in God’s name!” Lucinda’s voice made me jump.

  She stood in the hallway, gathering up a basket of laundry. Her face looked unforgivable, and I held my breath and waited for the explosion. Jaxon didn’t seem to care, continuing to dry himself off as he slowly made his way to our room.

  “The bathroom?” she hollered, blocking his way. She looked between us with disgusting disapproval. “This house is small, you insolent little shits! We have one bathroom! One! And you decide to poison it like a brothel? Sex, you two? In my bathroom? In!My!Bathroom!”

  I froze and Jaxon looked irritated, rolling his eyes up at the ceiling. “It’s hot as hell, Mom. There’s no other place to–”

  “I don’t want to know the details of your sick, seedy sex life! I just don’t want it done in my bathroom! Now turn around and clean it up. I want every inch of that bathroom scrubbed!”

  Every inch of it was scrubbed.

  She made damn sure of it, standing in the doorway like Stalin, dictating with a harshness that didn’t suit her.

  The one place we could do it was scratched out. And when two weeks of pent up make-out sessions ensued, Jaxon was twitching at the eyes. Which brings us back to the field
after he’d veered the car into the emergency lane.

  I could tell this particular day he’d had enough. He determinedly hurried me into the field. No words were necessary. We were both on the same page. When he found us a spot, he took my face into his hands and kissed me hard. In the midst of our kissing, we sank down onto the ground, him over top of me.

  “I’m so fucking horny, I’m going to burst,” he breathed against my mouth.

  “Me too,” I moaned, grinding my pelvis shamelessly into him. Once upon a time, I’d have been embarrassed by that. “I love your mom, but fuck, she’s a cock-block.”

  “Tiny?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Let’s not talk about my mom right now, okay?”

  He didn’t get naked. Just pushed his pants down – oh, how easy men have it! Meanwhile I got the shitty end of the stick. He threw my shorts and underwear off before pushing into me. Jaxon’s lucky he’s sexy, otherwise I would not have enjoyed being fucked while my ass was chafing against the hard earth.

  It was still beyond hot, but being outdoors and in the open air made it sufferable. It was outlandishly erotic for me feeling the slippery feel of our bodies rubbing against each other. Combine that with our hot, frantic breathing, groans in the open air, and the way he carelessly licked my neck, not minding the sweat… It was the sweetest way to spend an hour in the summer heat. Two lovebirds curled in discomfort, seeking each other’s pleasure, and driving out the need in one another. How else could I feel more connected?

  It was still so new to me. Sure, the feeling of an orgasm is special – the kind of thing that drives you to the pinnacle of insanity if it’s been deprived of you. But an orgasm is something you can achieve on your own. I know I’d experimented enough growing up to know how my own pleasure could be derived. This wasn’t what was new to me.

  No, what was new to me was being with a man that you watched gain satisfaction out of using your body. Seeing the way the feel of me drove him to heights of ecstasy was like an orgasm of the mind; so satisfying and longer lasting, the image alone could satiate you forever. All you needed to do was burn it into your memory forever and remember. Just remember and maybe, for even the briefest moment, it can be as real as it once was.