by Max Henry
Anger builds at the image of a young kid having to stoop to those levels. He was right all those nights ago; there definitely is something worse then being thrown around from time to time.
“What made it change?”
“I met Ty. He was always a clever fucker. I could see it from the minute I met him. I knew he’d be the one to help me get a leg up on the shitty life we lived.”
“He was homeless, too?”
“We all were—all six of us.”
‘That’s how you met them.” I nod as the pieces fall into place.
“Yeah. We all had a common denominator.”
I keep stroking his hair, admiring what a strong man the guy is. The minute he took Rocco, I could see his confidence. He carries himself with an air of assuredness. The guy knows exactly who he is, and I damn well envy it.
“You’ve obviously done well to get where you are today, then.” I run my fingertips over his eyebrows, and down the bridge of his nose.
Malice shuts his eyes, and a low rumble reverberates in his chest. “Never judge a book by its cover, Jane.”
I frown. He’s clearly trying to warn me about something, but I can’t for the life of me see what it would be. “What’s wrong with this story?” I ask, tapping the top of his nose.
He smiles, and my insides melt. “I’m still waiting to write the happily-ever-after.”
“It’ll happen,” I whisper.
His eyes open, and I lose myself in those pools of chocolate. His hand snakes up, and wraps around the back of my neck to pull me down to his waiting lips. We connect, and the troubles of the world vanish. It’s only me, him, and a hell of a lot of spare time on our hands.
“Malice,” I whisper against his mouth.
“Jane?” he murmurs back.
“Is this right?”
He eases his hold on my neck to let me pull back, and watch his expression as he answers.
“Does it feel right?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure.”
“Do you want to run?”
I shake my head.
“Do I scare you?”
I hesitate.
“Now?” he clarifies.
I shake my head again.
“Do you want to kiss me again?”
I freeze in place while my cheeks redden.
He smiles. “Then it’s right.”
Malice eases off my lap and stands before me. My eyes immediately find the telltale sign of his arousal showing against the zipper of his jeans. Heat rushes to my chest.
“Come on, Jane. Let’s go to bed.”
JANE FOLLOWS me toward my room, a fine mess of emotions. Her chin is drawn to the floor, her gaze hidden, but she smiles the whole way there like a giddy schoolgirl.
I’ve got her.
Rocco pauses in the hallway behind us, and I wink at the pup, sending him on his way back to the living room. Jane walks in with a tug of my hand, and I shut the door behind her.
“I haven’t been this nervous in so long.” She laughs.
“Babe, you haven’t got a thing to be nervous about.”
Her eyes lift to mine, and she smirks. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
I nod. “Have you?”
That glorious shade of pink fills her cheeks, and she looks to the floor yet again.
“Babe, look at me.”
Jane eyes the wall to her left.
“Look. At. Me.” I step forward, and take her hands.
Her legs touch the bed behind her as she lifts her chin to meet my gaze.
“You”—I squeeze her hands—“are the most beautiful woman. Your smile is infectious. Your heart is so huge, despite everything you’ve been dealt. Not to mention how cute you look in my T-shirts. Babe, I could go on for days. I just want you to believe it.”
“It’s hard to when I’ve been told everything the opposite of what you said.” Her gaze drops.
I lift her chin with a finger. “Don’t stop looking at me.”
She nods.
“I’m going to lie you down on this bed. Everything I do from then on will show you how much you affect me. If we get through tonight and I haven’t made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, then I quit.” I lift my hands, and walk backward.
Her eyes grow large. “You’d leave?” she asks.
I laugh. “Not at all. I’d join a monastery or something, because obviously my ways with the ladies are no good anymore.” The words leave my lips, and I mentally curse myself out.
“So, you do this with every girl you meet, huh?” Jane drops to the bed, and sits with her hands clasped on her lap.
“Babe.” I kneel before her. “That’s not what I meant.”
The pain in her expression rips a chasm in my heart.
“Fuck. Just let me show you.”
I take her head between my hands, and taste her lips. She sighs against my mouth, and the sensation has my dick singing. Saying I haven’t wanted to sink into her since she turned up the morning after I took Rocco would be a fucking lie. Simply looking at this woman does strange things to me—touching her is out of this world.
“Before I start,” I strain, “is there anything you don’t want to do?”
She shakes her head in my grasp. The woman has granted me full access. I could fucking throw a fist-pump if it weren’t so out of place.
Her body relaxes into my hold as I lay her back, and hoist her up the bed until her feet leave the floor. The light in her eyes spurs me on, and I tuck my fingers under the edge of her shirt, and raise an eyebrow.
She nods.
I coax the fabric up, and she arches her back to aide in undressing her. I need to see her so fucking bad. The shirt hits the floor, and I cringe at the sight beneath me. The woman is a goddess of perfect, untouched skin—except for the yellow, and green bruises where her ribs have healed.
“What’s the matter?” she asks, trying to cover up.
“Don’t.” I push her hands away. “Let me see you.”
Her eyes close, and she sighs. “It’s the bruises, isn’t it? They’re a turn-off.”
I lean over, and place a gentle kiss to the area. Her stomach sucks in with her breath, and she stiffens. “Not at all, babe. They’re a reminder of why you’re better off with me.”
If only I could convince myself of that.
She relaxes once more, and lets me kiss my way up her body until I reach her neck. I nip, and suck my way to her lips. Moans fall from her mouth. The sound is perfection.
Jane thrusts her hips off the bed. I press down, rubbing against her sweet spot. She groans, and I push again for more. The sounds she makes—the mewls, the cries, the moans—they all urge me on, assuring me that I’m doing the right thing in being with her.
“Malice, don’t tease me for too long.”
“Babe, I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’m strung too fucking tight for that.”
Her legs wrap around my hips, and she pulls herself up to crash her mouth to mine. I relish the feel of her tongue pressing for dominance. The woman is coming alive beneath me, and it’s the most beautiful feeling knowing I helped cause it.
She lies back, shimmies her jeans off, and tosses them aside. Her hands work my belt, in a frenzy, and ease the zipper of my jeans down. Her hand on my erection is velvet, and a groan falls free before I can think on it.
“Fuck, Jane.”
“Is that good?” she asks.
The insecurity in her tone places a pressure on my chest. I lean down and kiss her, hard. “Don’t ever doubt what you’re doing, woman. You couldn’t do a thing wrong if you tried.”
Her fist pumps faster as I speak to her, and my control hangs by a delicate thread.
“I need to be in you. Now.”
Jane bends her knees, and hooks her feet into the waistband of my jeans. She shoves them down my legs, and hooks a calf around my butt to pull me in. The fucking woman is topping me from the bottom—and I like it.
The head of my cock nudges her, and I h
iss at the tingles that shoot through to my spine. “Condom?”
“Don’t you?” she asks as she stills.
“Fuck!” I back off the bed, and search frantically through my drawers. Why? I don’t know, considering I’m one hundred percent certain that I didn’t pack any.
“Malice,” she moans.
“I’m sorry,” I say as I stand, and turn back to her.
Fuck me. One hand rubs her clit, and she licks the first two fingers of her other before pushing them into her swollen center. The woman’s going to have me come on the spot.
“Jane,” I warn. “If you want my cock in your cunt, you better stop playing with yourself.”
I rack my brain, thinking over where Ty might stash condoms while I watch her play.
“Forget the condom,” she says. “I’m clean, and on birth control.”
She doesn’t need to ask me twice. I cross the room to her, and tuck both hands under her butt. She giggles as I lift her pussy to my mouth, and dive in for a feast. Her play has left her juicy, and sweet, and I suck her clean as she bucks in my grasp.
“Jesus, Malice!”
I pull back, and lower her to the bed. “Hold on, babe. Things are about to get rough.” I bend at the knees, tucking her ankles either side of my neck, and sink myself into her warmth.
Neither of us can hold back the tension that has shrouded us from the day we arrived here. Jane thrusts against me, and I pull her hard onto my cock until white spots dance in my vision. Her feet find stability against my shoulders, and she uses me as an anchor to deepen her movements.
Sweet bliss rolls in like an avalanche, and I roar out my release as she screams beneath me. Her muscles milk me for all they can: eager, and willing. Her breaths come in short, ragged bursts as she tries to regain control. She’s carefree, and letting her body take over what her mind usually censors. It’s perfect.
“I don’t know about you,” I say, and slap her on the backside, “but that wasn’t nearly enough.”
She bites her lip, and shakes her head. “Not nearly.”
“Good thing it doesn’t matter if I’m late to work, then,” I say, as I start to rock into her again.
“I’LL GET it,” I call out after a knock at the door.
I answer, and find a tall, dark-haired man sporting a well-groomed beard looking down at me.
“You must be Jane,” he says, offering his hand.
“And you must be Ty.”
He gives me the kind of dashing smile that has probably ruined hundreds of women.
“Come in,” I say, and step aside.
“Don’t mind if I do.” He passes by, and places his keys on the side table. “Where’s the boy?”
“Over here, asshole,” Malice calls from the kitchen.
Ty wanders over, and takes a stool at the counter. I sit on the spare, and continue with the wine Malice had poured me. The two of them discuss the week while I sip, happy to blend into the background. It’s nice seeing him at ease, interacting with a friend. But despite how relaxed he appears, I can’t help the feeling he’s still not being a hundred percent open. There’s something about the way he cuts his answers short, and doesn’t delve to far into details that show he’s still holding up a barrier, as small as it may be.
“So,” Ty says, “why have you been keeping Jane here hidden from me until now?”
I look to Malice at the same time as he does. Hidden, huh? Malice gives me a sheepish grin, and faces Ty.
“Because I didn’t want newly-single idiots like you thinking they had any chance.”
“You an item, then?”
Again, I look over, eager for the answer.
Malice locks his gaze with mine. “I guess we are.” He watches me, gauging my reaction.
A smile spreads across my face. He winks in return, and goes back to talking with Ty. I can’t stop the giddy butterflies dancing in my gut at the knowledge we’ve become ‘something’.
“And who’s this guy?” Ty asks, scratching Rocco behind the ears.
“That’s my boy, Rocco.”
“Pre-packaged family, huh Malice?”
The glint in Ty’s eyes shows how much he loves to rile Malice up. I grin as the two of them go at it, taking the piss out of each other and making lowly comments, all in the name of fun.
The door opens without a knock or a greeting and Tigger strolls in, followed by Bronx.
“Guys,” Ty says, standing to lock fists with them in turn.
Tigger heads for the couch and blends into the cushions, without a word.
“He still a bit off?” Malice asks.
Bronx gives a quick nod, and looks over. “Asshole won’t admit he needs help.”
“Because I don’t fucking need it,” Tigger responds.
The boys exchange glances, and I catch the not-so-subtle way Malice looks at me. I can’t shake the feeling I’m being left out of something—on purpose. I decide to leave them to it, and take my wine to sit with Tigger.
“Hi,” I say, offering my hand. “I’m Jane. I believe we didn’t meet properly the other night.”
He shakes it, and eyes me intently. “You were pretty messed up. You okay now?”
“I could ask the same of you,” I say, and hold my breath.
He watches his fingers as he picks at a spot on his shorts. “The guys mean well, I know that, but who the fuck do they expect me to talk to about it?”
“About what?”
He taps his temple. “The stuff that swirls around up here like a fucking cesspool of shit.”
I frown. “Have you seen your GP? A counselor?”
He laughs, and I inch away a little at the callous sound of it. “Old dick-wad over there hasn’t told you much about us, huh?”
“I guess not,” I snap back, completely aware of my apparent shortcomings.
“What do you know about what we do?” He narrows his gaze on me, and leans in close.
I inhale the strong scent of weed, and answer. “He said the guy he works for operates a home-kill-style butchery.”
Tigger raises both eyebrows, and snorts. “Home-kill butcher? Fuck, I’ve heard it all now.”
I stand, and glare down at the prick. “Clearly, I don’t get enlightened to the details of whatever you lot have going on, but you know what? I don’t care for it. I’ve never pushed him for it, he’s never told me. Why should that matter, Tigger? You tell me that.”
“Because sooner or later, if you stick around him you’ll wear the harsh reality of it. He ain’t gonna come home every night happy to see you; some days fuck with your head, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to shake that shit. When he snaps, you better be ready, girl.” He nods toward Malice, who is now watching us with a frown. “You better ask your boy what this job of ours does to us before you learn the hard way.”
“Clearly, it has you pretty messed up, but that’s no reason to be an asshole to people who want to help.” I pick that moment to take my leave, and head out to the back patio.
The men’s voices murmur inside, but I focus on the chirrup of the crickets. Tigger’s warning grates at me. If I hadn’t seen that angry side of Malice the first week we were here, I wouldn’t know what he was talking about. But the comment about him snapping has itched a raw wound inside of me.
After all, wasn’t Dylan the same at first? All apologies, and regret?
The French door clicks open, and Malice steps out to join me.
Speak of the devil.
I watch him in silence while he closes the door, and walks toward me.
“Boys scare you off already?” he asks as he sits.
“Why did Tigger say I needed to ask you about your lifestyle? And why can’t he go see the GP about his issues?”
Malice stares at the ground, and I watch as his throat bobs several times. “I can’t tell you everything yet, Jane.”
Ire fuels my retaliation. “So, you can fuck me, but you can’t be honest with me? Jeez, I’m the winner in this situation, huh?”
“Jane, you know you mean a hell of a lot to me.”
“Funny way you have of showing it.” Being near him is driving me mad. “I can’t do this,” I say, and stand. “I can’t deal right now.”
I walk to head inside, but his hand catches my elbow, and spins me around. “I’m only trying to help you.”
“Helping me,” I seethe, “would be showing me you respect me enough to not purposefully lie to me.”
“I’ve never exactly lied about anything I’ve said.” He scowls.
“You’re lying by omission, and that’s equally as backhanded, Malice.” I yank my arm free, and storm inside.
The guys stop talking as I march through. I’m madder than a hornet. How fucking dare he think I’m too fragile to be honest with? I’ve bared my soul, my insecurities, and my weakest moments to him, and this is the thanks I get?
Maybe it’s me who should join a nunnery, because I sure as fuck know how to pick them.
“WHAT THE fuck did you say to her?”
Tigger smirks up at me. Wrong move, buddy. My fist connects with his nose.
“Hey,” Ty cries out as Bronx wrenches my hands behind my back.
I kick out, eager to cause more damage. “This fucker told my girl too much, too soon.”
Ty shifts his gaze to me while Tigger clutches at his bleeding nose. “Mate, perhaps you should ask yourself who’s the one who didn’t say enough.”
“What the fuck am I supposed to say, Ty? You know what we do.” I shrug free of Bronx’s hold. “How can I tell her that? How could she trust me after knowing that?”
“She’s a grown-up, Malice. She can work it out for herself.”
I snarl at the idiot. Can’t he see how broken she is? “You didn’t see what she came from, man. You didn’t see what he did to her. In her book, violence is not okay, at all, ever.”
“She came from it, Malice, but from what I can see, she was strong enough to overcome it.”
“He’s right,” Bronx adds. “She can decide for herself. You can’t referee what she gets to know.”
“Fuck you all,” I roar. “Fuck you guys. You’re supposed to have my back.”
“We do,” Tigger says from behind his hand. “We’re doing this because you’re too stubborn to see how much you’re about to fuck it up for yourself.”