WIFE FOR A PRICE

by Kathryn Thomas

  Anything yet? I text first thing in the morning.

  By the evening she answers: Not a thing.

  And it goes on and on and on until it’s almost a joke at this point. Both of us know that Vanessa is going to have to find a way to contact us, but neither of us want to give up hope that it could ever happen.

  Still, there are signs that Vanessa is alive and well. Her brother seems to love teasing me with little details he thinks will just serve to bring me down. Just yesterday he was in earshot of me when he loudly mentioned that Vanessa was going back to school and that she had asked Brock to bring her and pick her up. In Martin’s world, they even had lunch together.

  I should be angry. I should be livid at the thought. But I’m not. His words translated into Vanessa being alive, Vanessa going back to school, and Vanessa having a bit of freedom again. None of those things could get me down regardless of who was with her or who was letting her go or stay. He was giving me hope.

  I went home that night feeling so much lighter than I had before. My mind was square on Vanessa, so much so that I missed the ring of my phone from Alice’s nightly text. Hours later, I checked it as I got out of the shower. As I read what she wrote, the phone slipped out of my wet hands and dropped onto the tile floor. She texted: I heard from Vanessa. She needs to talk to you. Can you be at the Sunset at one o’clock? Don’t bring your bike. Go on foot. Don’t tell a soul.

  I typed back furiously that I would be there and that I understood. The rest of the night, my eyes are glued to my ceiling, as I try to think of all the things I want to say to her. Why now? How is she planning on doing it? What hell had her parents and brother put her through that it took her more than a month to get ahold of me?

  My studio goes from light to dark as the sun sets. I remain plastered to my bed.

  By the time the sun rises the next morning, I’m already dressed and ready to go. I managed to change my shift from the afternoon to the morning in exchange for some smokes. And I’m grateful for the grunt work Martin assigned me. Unlike most days, running shipments back and forth actually keeps my mind off of the time moving by at a snail’s pace.

  I’m out the door and already on my bike at noon, completely forgetting to clock out. I send a quick text to Thad asking him if he would come down from his ivory tower on the top floor of the headquarters to punch my card. He doesn’t even bother asking me why I couldn’t do it. I’m free and clear.

  I park my bike at another bar about five hundred feet from the Sunset and then walk through the dank alleys behind the businesses. It reeks of trash and urine, as I run as quickly as I can through the mess and the lines of bums eating their lunches. When I make it to the Sunset, I sneak in from the back way and head towards the room where we had met up earlier.

  To my surprise, the room is already unlocked with a small light passing through the crack in the door. My muscles tense and the hairs along the back of my neck shoot up, as I wonder if I had just walked into a trap. But it’s a risk I am more than willing to take, as I step lightly into the room, locking the door behind me.

  “Gavin?” a voice calls out from behind the bar.

  “Vanessa?” I peer into the darkness over to a small table lamp she has managed to turn on. Her beautiful, light skin is illuminated so that I can make out all the marks and damages to her body. She runs out from under the light into my outstretched arms. I kneel slightly as her body hits mine, and I pick her up so that her face meets mine.

  Our lips collide into one another, pulling and pushing rapidly as we try to remember one another’s body. She grips wildly to my collar, as I walk her around the nearly empty room until I find a chair to sit us down. She remains in my lap, as she presses both hands to my face, feeling the warmth of my skin in her cold, shivering hands.

  I want to pull away and ask her my questions, to see where she has been, but I am too wrapped up in this singular moment, where we are finally together despite it all. She, too, seems to almost fall into me. Her arms wrap around my neck and linger down the top of my back. The tips tickle at the skin through my light t-shirt.

  My hands grab hold around her waist. The cotton button-down shirt she is wearing slides up around me as I feel her curvaceous hips move slightly from my touch. I push the shirt up even higher, slipping my hands towards the front of her body near her stomach. Her frame gives me just enough space that my hands touch from her bellybutton to the lace of her bra.

  When she feels me at her chest, she pulls away slightly, her eyes dancing in anticipation. Her arms raise above her head, and I lift the shirt off and over her, through the cascading curls of her hair. It falls softly to the floor next to us, as she unhooks the strapless bra slowly. Her hands cup her naked breasts, as she waits for me to undress myself.

  With her free hand, she pushes off of the chair and steps back a few steps. In the light, I watch her as she drops her hands slowly. They move down the top of her chest towards her nipples as she teases at them gently. Vanessa’s tiny fingers pinch at the small pink tops before twisting around the circumference of her round nipples. Her ruby lips curl to open slightly, as she sighs in pleasure.

  I lean back and watch her, the growing urge within my pants pounds against my legs. Vanessa moves her arms and hands down towards her stomach and to her black, pleated skirt. With one slide down to the floor, past her black riding boots, it slips off of her with ease. She’s left standing before me in a pair of black panties.

  I can’t take it anymore. I reach my hand out to her to grab her. She falls back towards me, landing square on my lap. I press my head between her breasts, as she lets out a surprised gasp of air. Using my hands to massage at her perky tits, I move them around my face and neck. My mouth opens to lick and nip at each nipple as it passes on by in its circle.

  Vanessa rests her hand between her legs on my crotch. As I massage her with more force, she does the same to both her and me. Her thumb and her pointer finger work her own body while her other three fingers work the slit of my jeans. I stare up at her momentarily to see the new Vanessa take over. The softness of her is gone, as she goes dark, her entire features changing before my eyes.

  I push her off slightly, giving me just enough room to remove my pants. The jeans wrap around my ankles, but I still have enough room to maneuver. She kneels before me, her knees resting on my shirt, as she removes the rest of my pants, socks, shoes, and underwear. With everything on my body stripped away, her hands move to my ankles, my shins, my knees, and then my thighs. My breath hitches in my throat when I finally feel the first fingertip wrap around my hardening cock.

  Just like I taught her nearly a month ago in this very same room, she works my cock over with the palm of her hand. She remembers every move from the slow move upwards to the rush downwards. This time though, her strokes are long, confident, and totally independent. I let her take over the entire time, as I just sit back and watch her in complete amazement. This isn’t the Vanessa I met nearly two months ago. This is someone completely different.

  Her brown eyes fire amber sparks, as she feels my cock grow in her own hand until it’s primed and ready for her. A smile comes across her face, as she leans over slightly and plants a few singular kisses on the tip. My head cocks backwards from the wet and warm sensation of her light touch. There’s nothing like her lips, no matter where they are on my body.

  Vanessa places her hands on my thighs and pushes up to stand. She almost towers above me as she moves closer to me, unsure of what to do next. I take control, pulling her tightly. She lifts slightly off of the ground, enough that I can use my hands to spread her legs so that she again straddles me on the bar chair. Her feet don’t even touch the ground, so she holds on tightly to my neck as I return to massaging her tits.

  After a moment of studying our bodies together, she looks up at me with wondering, wanting eyes. Her body relaxes, as I feel her hips begin to softly grind against my hard cock. “Like this?” she whispers. I nod affirmative as she moves her pelvic bone up and down the
length of me. Her grinding is so deep that I can feel her wet little slit open slightly as it presses up against my shaft.

  I stop her mid-stroke, my hands wrapped around her thick waist. “This is what I want,” I say, as I lift her off of me so that she floats slightly in the air. I position my cock so that it stands up straight right under her, a rod waiting to be sculpted. Vanessa bites her lip as she looks down. A bit of fear is a great thing, especially for a virgin like her.

  “Gavin…” She purrs, as I push her hips back downwards. Her wet pussy opens for me like a flower in bloom, as my cock pushes straight into her. A small cry escapes her lips, and her thin hands clasp around my biceps as she squeals. I can feel her nails cut through my skin, the pain and pleasure of feeling her flesh tight against my flesh mixing with her pain.

  My thick, long cock fills her. It’s a perfect fit, like a leather glove. She’s wet, only getting wetter as we remain in position, feeling one another from the inside out. And then, she moves. It’s awkward at first. I can tell she has no idea how to maneuver in this position. But every little twist of her hips, her face goes from unsure to wanting more.

  “Go slow,” I instruct her. “Like this.” I lick my fingers, as I place it at the top of her slit. My forefinger presses up against her clit, as she lets herself let go a small, mumbled cry. With my hand in place, I use it to guide her in a small, counterclockwise circle that moves steadily up the length of me. It’s slow, tantalizing slow. But it gives her every bit of me.

  With each movement, I respond by placing even more pressure on her clit. My other fingers press the folds of her pussy so that she encloses my cock in a small pinch. She leans back, her own fingertips just balancing around my neck, so that she can watch the master work. The more she sees, the more she wants.

  Vanessa’s breath picks up speed, as she speeds up her dance. Her hips are careening around me, as she takes me all in. Even the up-and-down movement makes it feel as if she is climbing a mountain. A little bead of sweat trickles down her head as she bites into her lip. Her hands fly free and press against her breasts, and I catch her in mid-fall. With her leaned back, she lets me push my weight into her.

  I know she’s close. I can tell from how she touches herself with such intensity. She massages every pressure point, giving me an even better show than her stripping. Her hands melt to her ribs, her stomach, and her hips until they land on my hands. She forces my hand to cup around her clit. I push deeper into her, which sets her off like a flame.

  With one primal, animalistic roar, she lets out an intense sigh that sends her reeling totally backwards, her upper back now resting on my knees, as I manage to hold on to her. I watch as she lies there, perfectly still, her hands at her head. Vanessa’s ribs lift up, as she tries to take a deep breath.

  I am just about to pull her up and out, but she does the work herself. Her upper half shoots back up and her arms wrap around my neck. Our faces touch, as she pulls me in for a long, enveloping kiss. When she pulls free, she looks me square in the eyes, and, unblinking, she commands me. “Fuck me,” she says, her voice dark and luscious. “Please, Gavin.”

  I growl, as I pick her up swiftly and pull her off of me. She stands up, as she waits for me to tell her what to do, but instead, I pull her back towards the chair with her facing away from me. My hands push against her knees, pulling her legs apart so that my cock can slip in between the back end of her pussy. I brush her hair to one side as I whisper in her ear, “Bounce.”

  Vanessa starts the motion, but I take over. My hips rise slightly off of the chair as I pound her from under her. Our bodies synch up together as my cock slices through the softness of her. Eventually, she leans forward, placing her hands on her thighs and lets me take her at my pace.

  My dick barrels into her, stroking into her at unbearable speeds. The harder I push into her, the more her body opens itself up to me. Everything about my body goes warm and tight, as I feel every muscle in me tense up. I place a hand around the strands of hair that have fallen down her back, as I pull her head gently up to me.

  I’m practically riding her, growling with each thrust until I can’t anymore. My body doesn’t give in or give out. It just lets go. Every bit of wanting, every single ounce of desire flows out of me and into her. I cry out her name, as I come, and the hands holding onto her push deeper into her body.

  When I finish, I pick her up and lean her back up against my front. She turns her head to kiss me, but when we stop, I notice that she is looking paler than before. I touch her soft but cold skin, feeling around her jaw and cheekbones.

  Her eyes strain, almost terrified, as she whispers to me, “I have to tell you something Gavin.” She kisses me one more time, a kiss so powerful I have a feeling she thinks it’s our last. I hold onto her even tighter, as she says the last two words I’d ever expect her to say to me, “I’m pregnant.”

  CHAPTER 21 I can’t believe that I just blurted it out just like that… and there… after that! My mind is completely blank as I wait for the downfall. I mean, I know girls who have been knocked up by motorcycle guys in the past and it never ends well for them or their relationship. Either they get forced into some arranged, shotgun disaster of a marriage or they end up at a clinic with a bag of pills.

  I don’t want to be like any of those girls -- ever. I want to be loved and to have a baby that is loved. Even though this is totally new, maybe a month old, I already feel like two people wrapped in one. And with Gavin by my side, my family feels different. It isn’t those people back in the Barber house who use fists and feet to get what they want. It’s two people who came together and made something wonderful.

  But maybe Gavin sees it differently. He hasn’t said a word in such a long time since I said it. He just lays there next to me, still panting from our love making. His chest caves in deeply with each exhale and puffs up with the inhale so that his tattoos hit the small bits of light coming into the back room of the Sunset. I want to reach out and trace each of those marks, but I am not going to even risk it.

  Finally, he turns his head back over to me and looks me deeply in my eyes. I bite down on my lip nervously, waiting for his mouth to move. But they don’t. He has a look on his face that is determined, bewildered, and dark. It’s not exactly the reaction I had imagined getting telling my partner that I was pregnant. Then again, I wouldn’t have imagined my partner to be one of the baddest, most feared men in my dad’s motorcycle club…

  Maybe it’s the way he looks at me unblinking and unapologetic, or maybe it’s the strange feeling of guilt coursing through my body at this very moment, but I say something even worse than the pregnancy announcement. I, shakily, reach out a hand to stroke the sturdy bone of his speckled jaw as I say deeply, “Gavin, I love you.”

  I’ve never said those words before, never had a chance to even feel that they were real. But here I am, telling my not-boyfriend that I am pregnant with his child and madly in love with him. “I do -- I love you. I wouldn’t be here right now, risking everything if it weren’t for this feeling that I am supposed to be with you. I know this is crazy. I know that I sound crazy, but I have to tell you it. I have to make you underst--”

  He cuts me off, placing his large pointer finger to my mouth, and then replaces it with the thickness of his own lips. They are still wet with his salty sweat and my own saliva. He kisses me so hard that I feel the rush of blood deep in my bare loins. Everything sparks back on even though my body is so exhausted, so worn down from the energy spent confessing.

  He pulls away for second, giving me time to whisper to him, “I love you, Gavin.”

  I half expect him to run, to say goodbye, but he doesn’t. He returns to kissing me, this time pressing his tongue between my lips. His body rolls softly on top of mine so that I can feel every inch of his skin to where his knees rest at my feet. He pulls himself up on his hands so that he practically hovers on me.

  I lift my head up to him to take his mouth even further into mine. His breath picks up once again a
s he moves from my lips to my cheeks, planting small pecks against my flushed skin. His lips travel down my neck, between my breasts, and to my stomach where he rests his head on its side. His auburn hair tickles at my skin so that little goosebumps prickle at my hips. His large hands hold onto my skin as he buries a kiss at my bellybutton.

  He looks back up at me and says, “Are you sure? 100%? Is this real?”

  “Yeah, Gavin. I took a dozen tests. They’re in my purse, if you want proof.”

  “I don’t need proof,” He kisses again at my belly, “I believe you.”

  I lay back, looking up at the ceiling. By the way he is touching me so gently, so securely, something tells me that this is going to be okay. Gavin hasn’t told me he loved me back, but one thing at a time here. Just knowing that he wouldn’t abandon this baby because of his own pride was enough.

  I reach down and press my hands to his face, pulling him up towards me. His body crawls over mine as our lips meet once again. The intensity is even more as we bury ourselves in each other’s mouths. My hands move down his back, feeling the protruding muscles, the distinct scars, even the flesh bruises. He’s taken so much for me.