Slammed

by Skyla Madi

  “I don’t love Amelia.” I don’t think I ever did. Love shouldn’t make you feel like you’re dying inside. It shouldn’t make you feel dirty, alone, and abused. Love is supposed to make you happy. It’s supposed to make you want to fight for it even on the shittiest days. Love is what fills me when I’m around Selena and only Selena. “I thought I did, but I was wrong and I paid for it.”

  I hear Selena swallow hard. “What happened between you two? How’d you break up? And tell me the real story. I deserve it.”

  I exhale, defeated. Fine. Now’s as good a time as ever to tell Selena everything. And I do. I start with the night we met and walk her the entire way through leaving school, my family, and my passion just to make Amelia happy. I grow tired of kneeling, so we lie down and I tell her about all the games she’d play with me—from the jealous competitions, the alcohol and drugs, to the fighting and her psychotic attacks. I even go right down to the uncomfortable, spontaneous threesomes just to get my point across: my life with Amelia wasn’t fun. At times, when I’m alone in the dark, I wish I could go back and do it all again just to feel wanted. But then I remember I never truly felt wanted; I was alone more often than not.

  Eventually, I end up at the break up… the thing that did me in completely.

  “She convinced me that being a father was what I wanted—and it was.”

  Selena trails the tip of her index finger in lazy circles around my belly button. “What happened?”

  “We went to bed happy, for a change, but when I woke in the morning, she was gone.”

  Her finger stops drawing on my skin.

  “I remember the smell in the apartment—Vodka and lime. I didn’t think much of it, not really, until I saw the empty bottle on the kitchen counter. I tried calling her cellphone over and over, but she didn’t pick up. Two hours passed and I started to panic. I remember racing around town searching for her at all of her favorite spots, but I came up empty every time.”

  “How’d you find her?”

  “A friend of hers sent me a text message saying he dropped her off at the hospital. Apparently she was in bad shape.”

  Selena’s breath hitches and she snuggles in closer. Even with her warmth radiating onto me, the memory still makes me feel cold.

  “I raced to the hospital and they sent me to her room. It was confusing. I didn’t understand…the nurse offered her condolences to me before expressing her distaste for Amelia. According to her, Amelia had some ‘complications’ with a home abortion. After that…I heard nothing. I couldn’t believe it.”

  Selena kisses the side of my chest and holds me tightly. “And then you left?”

  I shake my head, disappointed in myself as I recall the memory. I should have left. I should have ran from the hospital and never looked back, but I didn’t. Some sick part of me wanted to know if she was okay. It wanted to hear her explain and to give her a chance…so I did.

  “Then, I went into her room to see her.” I clear the thickness from my throat. “She was lying on the bed, applying makeup and tapping her foot to a beat she could hear in her head. After something so traumatic, I expected her to be all over the place, to beg for forgiveness, but when she saw me she seemed…frustrated.”

  “Frustrated?”

  I nod. “She was mad I found her. Told me I was too attached for my own good and then told me to leave. Apparently, things had gone too far between us and she didn’t want me anymore.”

  “You walked away?”

  I snort. “I wish I could say I walked away, but I didn’t. I ran. I ran from the hospital, crying like a little girl. And that was it. From then on I did my own thing, indulged in things I shouldn’t have and completely lost the plot until Seth brought me to Portland.”

  I wish I could go into detail about how devastated I was when Amelia left me, but words can’t capture the emotion I truly felt.

  Devastation.

  Loneliness.

  Anger.

  I never, ever want to go through it again. I don’t even want to think about it.

  “And now Amelia is here in Portland.”

  I cringe at the thought. “She is, but this time I have something I didn’t have before.”

  I smile as I feel her lips curve against my ribs. “What?”

  “You know what.”

  “I know, but I want to hear you say it.”

  I tighten my hold on her shoulders and pull her closer. “I have you, and you’re all I need, not her.” I kiss her forehead and linger, savoring the moment for a little while longer.

  I enjoy the silence and let it fill me up. The small amount of positive energy in my chest multiplies every second I hold Selena in my arms and I let it sweep over me like a sickness. This is how it’s supposed to feel. This is how I know I’m in the right place with the right person. Granted, it took me a while to get it here, but that doesn’t matter. I’m here now and I’m thankful I didn’t lose Selena on the way.

  “I love you,” she says, planting another kind, soft kiss on my ribs.

  I roll my weight onto her small frame, being sure to hold the majority of my mass on my elbows. Though I can’t see her below, I can imagine her. Soft, blonde curls, bright green eyes, and a cute pouty mouth that can suck a softball through a straw.

  I’m in love.

  Absolutely, irrevocably, FINALLY in love.

  “I lo—”

  She shoots up and smashes her lips to mine. As my lips part, I taste salve and a tiny hint of blood, but I feel no pain. The cut on my lip doesn’t matter. All that matters is this kiss. The kiss that ends the last chapter of my life and starts a new one. Her soft mouth tugs on mine in an achingly slow manner and a low moan is caught in my throat. I feel a spark ignite in my abdomen and it explodes like a firework, exhilarating me right to the tip of my cock. Then, I remember something else that happened tonight, something Selena should know. Fighting against her, I manage to pull my mouth free. “There’s something else you should know. Amelia and I kissed, but it was only for—”

  Selena groans, running her fingers through my hair. “I don’t care. Put your fucking mouth back on mine. I need you.”

  I grin. I swear to god, I’m going to marry this broad. I taste her lip with the tip of my tongue, and my cock throbs against my denim jeans. She is delicious. Unable to stop, I kiss a trail away from her lips and down her neck. Selena both complains and shudders, so I stop and bring my lips back to hers. I love the fact her lips are mine and her mouth is mine—only mine. I can taste it when I kiss her lips.

  She pushes hard on my chest and I go with it, letting her roll me over onto my back so she can straddle my hips. As she kisses me, I run my hands down the length of her body and onto her ass. My fingers brush over a small piece of fabric that barely covers her. I love it when she wears those undies, the ones that expose the bottoms of her ass cheeks.

  I’m lost in her mouth while she pushes her panties down and kicks them off before she reaches underneath herself and undoes my jeans. I lift my hips and help her tug my jeans down until my cock springs free.

  “I’ve missed you,” she exhales into my mouth as she slides herself against my shaft, coating me in her arousal.

  I tug on the hem of her top and pull it off over her head before tossing it away. Sighing, I take her breasts in my hands and roll them in my palms. “You have no fucking idea how badly I’ve missed you.”

  Panting, she flicks her hips a little faster and I squeeze my eyes shut, desperate for more control. Just when I think I’ve gained it, she grabs my cock and lowers herself onto it with a hitch of her breath.

  “Fucking hell,” I hiss as her legs tremble and she sinks all of the way to the base of my shaft.

  I let out a groan of pleasure when I’m completely buried inside her. It tears from my chest as she slowly moves, pumping my shaft with slow, torturous strokes. She feels amazing—beyond amazing. Her tight pussy pulls me in like it’s fucking starving for me and I can’t get enough. I cup her face with my hands then move to
her hair before devouring her mouth with long, fierce flicks of my tongue. Both my tongue and my dick are enveloped in Selena’s warm, sweet body, and it takes all of the restraint I have left not to grab her and pound her like mad. If we were alone, in our own space, I’d have Selena so fucking high and delirious with arousal she wouldn’t know how to handle it.

  Grabbing my shoulders, she throws her head back and begins riding me like she can’t get enough. My hands fall to her hips and my gaze to her tits. I imagine her petite mounds bouncing each time she lifts her body and slams back down onto my cock. I hear her struggling to stay quiet and it makes me push harder. I can’t get deep enough or close enough. I want to have her everywhere in all kinds of positions. I want her to scream how much she loves me filling her and fucking her until she breaks apart. I want full on, uncensored, unrivaled, ‘I’m sorry it took so long to realize I love you’ sex. She wants it too, I can feel it in the way her body quakes and her fingers claw my chest. We want the same thing.

  “Ride me harder,” I demand, stilling my hips and letting her take control. She grasps my shoulders and her breath is steamy as it skirts across my jaw when she leans in.

  Heat coils in my organs and rolls through my body in waves that sync with the clenching of her pussy. I grip her hips harder, pulling her down and pushing her up faster. She knows just how to use her body to make me come for her. When she’s in control, I’m at her mercy.

  “You’re so wet,” I utter, keeping my voice as low as humanly possible in this moment. “I can feel you all over me.”

  “Jackson…” She sighs.

  She begins to lose her rhythm as her walls tighten and she draws nearer to orgasm. I love it. I love that I have the power to make her lose control, but it’s too much. If she goes, I’m sure to follow. We’ve never had sex like this—no aggression, no anger, and none of my fucked up fetishes getting in the way. Too long I’ve held on to the notion of needing something painful or a relationship that’s disconnected to get off. It feels better this way, focusing solely on the emotions I feel for her and not on what worked in the past. If I come now, just with Selena loving me the way she does, I won’t need anything else. I don’t want to need anything else.

  Digging my fingers into her hips, I shift upwards and Selena drops her mouth to my collarbone to stifle her moans. She vibrates against me with so much need, her pussy clamping down hard and pulsing. I open my mouth in her hair and expel a hot breath of air, I’m sure it sounds more like a grunt, before gripping her ass and forcing her to move harder, faster, against me. As her entire body begins to convulse, I’m shot over the edge with her and all I can smell is the berry fragrance of her shampoo mixed with hot sex and the faintest smell of clean linen. I squeeze my eyes shut, disappointed the view with my orgasm was wasted on darkness and not on her face.

  We pant for a while after sex, neither of us moving. I comb my fingers through Selena’s hair as she rests on top of me. I thought she was asleep, until she utters my name. “Jackson?”

  “Mm.”

  There’s a slight nervous pause before she decides to continue. “If you want children…I’ll give them to you.”

  I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. What do I say to that? Thank you? Despite my shock, my heart swells at the thought of it. It’s a nice thought, in theory, but Selena has never wanted children—she can barely hold Chloe without having a panic attack. I wouldn’t put her through something so challenging if she didn’t truly want it. Still, the gesture alone is more than I could ever ask from her. Knowing that she’s willing to sacrifice so much for my happiness fills me with sensations and emotions I’ve never felt before.

  I roll us onto our sides and shift until our bodies are pressed tightly against each other’s.

  “I love you,” I tell her with absolute sincerity.

  I hear her smile and imagine it brightly lighting the room. It’s all I need. I don’t need to analyze her features to see if she really means it because love can be measured in so many ways—even stunned silence.

  “I love you, too,” she says, her voice thick and husky.

  To hear it back with mutual emotion, and not because it’s what I want to hear, does wonderful things to a damaged heart. For too long I survived on the ideal of love—every love—feeling the exact way I experienced it. I didn’t get Seth or Olivia and why they were so obsessed with each other, until now. I was starved of love until I met Selena. Now, I’m fed with so much love it spills from me and I still can’t get enough.

  “Before you sleep,” she mumbles after an uncertain amount of time, “promise me you’ll never fight in one of those places again.”

  Her words filter through tired ears and onto my lazy mind. Her request is simple enough. I don’t want her there, either. “No more underground clubs,” I state. “Promise.”

  And then I fall asleep, content with my current position in life.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Selena

  I don’t dream. Mostly, it’s because I’m too tired, but also because my reality is a whole lot better than my dreams could ever be. I don’t know what I expected to happen when Jackson showed up in the guest room last night. I knew sex was on the cards, but I wasn’t expecting the kind of sex that we had. His fingers didn’t pinch me or bruise me. His words didn’t hurt me or incite anger. It was beautiful—the perfect way to forget a heartbreaking story. Oh, Jackson.

  I don’t own any high horses when it comes to abortion. I’ve always told myself that if I were to ever be in a situation where I needed to make that decision, I would take it. Not out of selfishness, no. I would take it because I know in my heart I’d never be able to raise a baby…or at least I ‘thought’ I would never be able to raise a baby. What Amelia did was cruel. To convince Jackson that a baby was something they were going to have together, only to rip it out from underneath him without so much as a conversation, that was disgusting. Unforgivable. To manipulate a boy much younger than you into isolation, and then manage to keep him with sex, drugs, and alcohol, that’s repulsive. Psychotic. How could his parents let it happen? If it was a girl in Jackson’s place and a man in place of Amelia, the world would have freaked out. No one would have tolerated it. I’ve always pushed feminist ideologies, but have also believed our boys need protecting, too.

  A soft slap on my cheek pulls me from my thoughts. Was I even asleep? Blinking, I open my eyes and the first thing I see is a chubby little face with bright green eyes and a trivial line of bubbles bubbling between a pair of small, plump lips. I blink a few more times and the tiny lips open, exposing strips of gum before another hand slaps down on my face.

  “Wakey, wakey, Aunt Selly,” I hear Olivia coo in a voice that isn’t necessary first thing in the morning. “Time for breakfast.”

  I run my hands over my face and through my hair. “What’s the time?” I ask, stifling a yawn.

  “Seven o’clock. Get up.”

  I groan. Seven o’clock? Seven o-freaking-clock? Jesus. If I ever have a child, she’ll be sleeping in until nine, at least. I pull a pillow over my face, making Chloe giggle and tug at it.

  “Bring Chloe down when you’re ready,” Olivia says, and then I hear nothing.

  I peer out from under my pillow. “O?”

  Nothing.

  “Olivia? You can’t just leave me alone with her! What if I drop her?”

  She still doesn’t return. What. An. Ass. With a huff I flick off the pillow and kick off the blankets. What if I was naked? Lucky for Baby Chloe I used the toilet after Jackson fell asleep last night and put my shirt and underwear back on. If she’d seen my ass, she’d be scarred for life.

  “Your mother is a horrible parent,” I tell Chloe as I swing my legs off the edge of the bed. “Come on, let’s see if I can get you downstairs to Daddy alive.”

  Reaching for the pair of sweat pants Olivia loaned me last night, I slip them on and push off the bed. Chloe waits patiently for me to pick her up, pulling on blankets and giggling to herself in the meantim
e. When I do, she grabs a firm hold on my hair. Shit. I can’t free her without sacrificing an arm and I can barely carry her with two arms, I’m not about to try with one. So, with a craned neck, I stroll cautiously from the room and head down the hallway and down the stairs.

  By some miracle, I make it all the way through the kitchen, which smells fucking divine, by the way, and out onto the back patio. Naturally, when I step outside and they see me carrying Chloe with my neck craned while she has a fistful of my hair, they find it hilarious. Peeking through my strands, I spot Seth sitting in a chair to the left of me and I step closer to him.

  “You should pay me for keeping her alive as long as I did.”

  He snorts.

  “Here, take your kid.”

  Relieving Chloe from my arms, Seth takes her in his and I work on prying her fingers from my hair. When I’m finally free, I quickly rake my fingers through the strands and take my seat next to Jackson. Conversation swiftly follows.

  “Still want children?” Jackson whispers in my ear as Seth and Darryl argue across the breakfast table about Jackson’s form last night.

  I smile, feeling warmth flood my veins and pool in my cheeks. I can’t believe I said that last night. “I didn’t drop her, so that’s a start.”

  “It’d be hell for you,” he states, grinning.

  “But I’d have you to help me, like Seth helps Olivia.”

  Wow. Who am I? Are we seriously having this conversation right now? What does it mean? Are we deciding to have a baby together? Or are we just clarifying where we stand in the relationship? Maybe the only purpose of this conversation is to show that we’re ready to move on to bigger and better things. Jackson leans in and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. It’s more of a ‘don’t hurt your pretty little head’ kind of kiss than a ‘let’s do it’ one. I’m not fretting. I’m sure when I’m one hundred percent ready for a baby, I’ll know. Right now, I’m happy helping Jackson build the new him and, who knows, maybe I’ll learn a lot of new things about me in the process, too. It’s an exciting feeling, trying something new. Most people are afraid of new, afraid of the black abyss in front of them, but not me. I thrive on the unknown. I thrive on the abyss that holds a million and one possibilities, once I take the leap.