by Amanda Heath
He takes a set of keys out of his pocket on his tight black jeans and unlocks the door to the house. He holds it open and turns his head to glare at me. “You’re gonna learn to stop fuckin’ around with your life. I thought you were over that shit. You, Chutney and Lola always facin’ down danger, gettin’ into fuckin’ trouble. Lola almost died once Ashley.” He closes his eyes and looks away from me. “If you’d died today, I wouldn’t have been able to go on. It was hard enough to live without you all these years.” Then he stomps into the house.
I follow behind a little slower; not wanting to have the argument I know is about to happen. I take in the garage we pulled in to. There’s a blue Chevy truck sitting in the other spot of the two-car garage. Tools and a worktable take up the back wall and there are random things hung up everywhere else.
I walk slowly into the house. I enter a small room with the washer and dryer and beyond that is the kitchen. It’s styled like a man lives here. All the appliances are stainless steel and the counters are black granite. The floors are hardwood, which are shined to perfection. There’s a huge bay window sitting next to the dining room table, which is in a room off the kitchen. I wonder if Rage holds church in here or something. The table could sit twenty people, I swear.
“Ashley!” he bellows from somewhere inside the house and I jerk in surprise.
I huff out some air and make my way through the house to him. I find him sitting on the couch in a huge living room. The sofa is a Dura leather sectional with like five recliners on it. The carpet is beige, as are the walls. There’s a huge entertainment center in the middle of the main wall that holds a big flat screen.
Rage sits on the sectional with his feet propped up on a black coffee table. “Sit the fuck down,” he growls when I just stand there staring at him.
I huff again and move to sit as far away from him as I can. “Can we just get this over with? I would really like to go home.”
Rage lifts up both his eyebrows and just gives me a strange look. “Home? As of right now, you are home. You ain’t goin’ anywhere for a long ass fuckin’ time.”
I purse my lips at that statement. Then I pull the ponytail out of my hair because it’s annoying me. “You have no right to tell me where my home is,” I remark, scratching at my scalp, hoping to ease the tense headache my hair has caused.
I don’t even see him move until he’s right in my face. The anger rolling off of him makes me recoil in fear. Not of him hitting me or anything but of what he’s going to say. “I got every right in the fuckin’ world. You’re my fuckin’ wife.” I look away from him but he just grabs my chin and makes me look at him again. “You faced down the fuckin’ mob today, which is about the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. Now you done fuckin’ shot the boss’s fuckin’ youngest son! That ain’t gonna go away!”
“I know, okay! But it’s not your problem! You didn’t want to be with me anymore and I’m sick of your bullshit!” I scream at him, pushing him back and out of my face.
He doesn’t go far though. “Maybe I was doin’ myself a fuckin’ favor! Seein’ as you fuckin’ roll in to save that low life piece of shit! I’m fuckin’ sick of you always runnin’ off to save his ass!”
I throw my hands up in the air, exasperated. “Fuck you! I may not be with him anymore but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about him. What would you do if it were me? Huh?”
“I’d fuckin’ save your ass but it’s different. Because if Victor was me, I wouldn’t have even got myself into that situation. I’d be at home fuckin’ your brains out!” He starts pacing back and forth in front of me. I hate when he does this. It signals that he’s about to blow the fuck up.
“Just shut up! I’m not your business anymore. I don’t want you. I don’t want to live with you. And I sure as fuck don’t love you anymore! You made sure of that with your stupid brain!” I’m screaming at him, lying to him and I just don’t care. There comes a point in time when I just can’t take it anymore. I’ve been repressing this side of me that screams and yells. I’ve been hiding the fact that I know how to fight and I know how to take care of myself. If my family could see me right now, they wouldn’t know me.
And that’s depressing.
But I don’t get a chance to think about it. Rage comes out of nowhere and slams his lips against mine. It’s brutal and not at all nice. He attacks my face and I find myself fighting him back. I give as good as I get.
“You don’t want me, huh? Why are you fuckin’ kissin me?” he whispers harshly as he breaks away from my mouth.
I don’t get a chance to answer him because he shoves me up against the wall. His lips come back to me and that’s when I realize I’m kissing Damien. I’m kissing the man I’ve secretly loved for the past five years. The one I thought about when I had sex with Victor. The one I dreamed about damn near every night.
And that’s a freeing thing. To be this close to him after all these years. The way he urges my mouth open with his tongue, the way his hips lean into mine so I can feel how much he wants me, and the way our breathing is uneven and panting around our mouths.
With Damien and I, it isn’t about who can control who. It’s about our equal enjoyment. We strive to excite the other as much as possible. We work together to get to the end. I’ve only ever been with one other man but they are so different in this, I never had to compare them. Damien was always better.
His hand reaches down to unbutton my jeans but I don’t let him. Instead I break away from his mouth and rip his shirt over his head. I throw it across the room hoping I don’t knock anything over. His chest is broad, blocking my view of the rest of the room. Not that I would be looking anywhere else. My hands slide over his shoulders and down his arms, my eyes taking in all the tattoos he hides under his shirt.
I almost cry at my first good view of his Beatles tattoo. But that’s not the only one that means something to us. Lyrics from “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails cover the left side of his torso. The one I want to trace reverently is of me. I’m sitting in booty shorts and a midriff-baring t-shirt on his bike. The black beast is between my legs and I have my hands pulling my hair up. I look fucking sexy and I’m amazed at Storm’s talent. And I know this came from his head because there isn’t a picture of me like that. This tat sits along his right side next to a huge set of blades.
I start kissing his neck, using my teeth in places and my tongue in others. I move slowly lower making sure to flick his nipples with my tongue. Damien’s hand goes into my hair, jerking it slightly but I don’t listen to his command. I’m getting down on my knees for him. I didn’t think I wanted this anymore but now that I have all this glorious skin and muscled body before me, I can’t get enough.
I lick his stomach and trail lower until I get to his jeans. My favorite tat sits there but it isn’t one I haven’t seen before. It’s two guns, one on each side of his V. I asked him to get it a long time ago. We were fooling around and I found the exact guns in his waistband. I told him how sexy I found it and the rest is history.
I snap his jeans open and lower the zipper. His erection comes out to greet me, the tip glistening with his pre-cum. With his huge appendage and perfect ass, he can’t really fit anything else into his tight jeans. So he just goes commando.
I’m on my knees as I look up his body and meet his eyes. The blue is dark, so dark it almost looks black. I keep my eyes on him as I lean forward and take the tip into my mouth. He leans forward and places his forehead against the wall. I watch his chest rise and fall heavily as I lick his dick like a lollipop.
“Fuck Ashley. You have the hottest mouth. I have dreams every night about that fuckin’ mouth,” he groans out, gently pumping his hips at my mouth. I take him until I gag slightly and then I pull back.
I know he can’t take it anymore when he wrenches his hips away from me and lifts me by my armpits. My shirt flies over my head. My bra goes next. Then he’s lowering himself to his knees and spinning me around to face the wall. “You have the tightest ass I’ve eve
r seen. I wanna sing it love songs.” You might find that funny but he growls it out and it’s not funny at all. It’s fucking hot.
My jeans are pulled down, along with my underwear. Then I feel his hands pulling my hips out to meet his mouth. His tongue probes my sex and it feels so good, my nails scratch against the wall.
Damien sits on his ass and moves his back against the wall. He does it so fast I don’t have time to miss his mouth between my legs.
When he moves back in, it’s almost more than I can take. His mouth is hot against me bringing sensations forward I haven’t felt in five years. That’s Damien for you though. He eats me out just like he kisses me. Sucking, stroking with his tongue and biting of sensitive flesh. It’s not long before I come. “That’s it baby. Come all over my mouth.” He just keeps sucking at my clit, making the orgasm go on and on.
He rises to his feet but uses his hands to keep my chest against the wall. When he stands against me, he forces my head back so he can kiss me. “You still like to taste yourself?” he whispers, rubbing his mouth against me. “Bet that rich boy didn’t know how to even turn you on.” I feel a gush of wetness between my legs at his words.
His hands leave my face to cup my hips and pull them against his erection. I feel him reach between us where he rubs his dick against my sex slowly. Then he enters me and I throw my head back at the fullness. It’s been awhile and my body is no longer used to his hard invasion.
“Fuckin’ tightest cunt I’ve ever had,” he groans, already using those hips to fuck me as hard as he can. I brace my hands against the wall, trying to keep myself from banging into it too hard. “Fuckin’ tightest, wettest pussy.” He starts licking and nibbling on my neck while his hips work me over, bringing me to the highest heights. I can’t even see anything; my eyes have stopped working. All I do is feel. I feel his hands on me, his dick fucking me hard and his lips against my tender skin. “Come Ashley. Come on my dick. I ain’t gonna last long.”
I take one of my hands off the wall and reach between my legs. I reach my clit and start rubbing to the rhythm of his thrusts. Before long I’m panting and boneless as he holds me up against the wall. “Fill me up, Damien. God, I want it so bad,” I say as my climax overtakes me.
Damien’s thrusts get harder at the end and we come together in a fit of moans and groans. I think I see stars but that might be my lack of oxygen because coming steals my breath. It’s been five years since I had it this good.
Then it all goes to hell.
I come to my senses sometime after he pulls out of me and I tense up. Since his gorgeous body is still pressed against me, he feels it.
I turn to shove him away from me but he grabs on to my shoulders stopping me. “Don’t do it, Ashley. It’s not gettin’ you anywhere,” he rumbles at me, slightly shaking me.
I start shaking my head because I have to do it. I can’t get mixed up with him again. I was more destroyed by Damien than I ever was by Victor. That was always their biggest difference. Yes, Victor hurt me but I didn’t think about him every day after he was gone.
I spent five fucking years with the ghost of Damien. The ghost of our relationship. He can’t ask me to go through what I did last time. Our breakup didn’t even hit me until long after. I had so much going on with Victor I didn’t let myself feel it. But when I did, part of me died.
“You broke me,” I whisper, trying to collect my thoughts. I have to calm down or we’re going to fight and I seriously don’t want to fight right now.
Damien’s hands come up to cup my face. His deep blue eyes stare into mine while his thumbs stroke my cheek. “You wouldn’t believe all the sleepless nights I’ve had over the past five years. I’d fall asleep but I would always wake up and reach for you. It killed me every damn time you weren’t there. And then I’d lie awake all night because I knew I couldn’t go back to sleep without you.” His blue eyes fill with sorrow and I know he felt everything I did. Pain branches out through my body at his words. I hate to think of him like that. No wonder Chutney said he always looked tired. “You bein’ here now, naked in my fuckin’ house, you ain’t leavin’. Not ever. You’re here to fuckin’ stay, Ashley. I ain’t lettin’ you go a second time.”
I close my eyes to block the tears that want to fall. He says that now but when I want to go check on Victor, he’ll get all stupid again. “It’s not gonna work, Rage.” My voice cracks and I hate the sound. When have I ever been strong enough? Why am I always weak in the wrong moments?
The most serious expression comes over his face. “I was selfish before, Ashley. I didn’t know how good I had it. That’s what’s wrong with first love. You ain’t got nothin’ to compare it to. I didn’t see it. I didn’t see that you only wanted me. And I’m sorry for that.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re. Over,” I spit out. My heart wants this though. But it beats to a different drum than my head. My head is screaming for me to run. To get away from him and bury all the pain he has caused.
Damien shakes his head and leans into me more fully. “I know now, though. I know what it’s like to be without you. I can’t go back to that.” He leans his forehead against mine and that’s when the first tear leaks out. “You can’t run out on me now. You want to be here. You want to be a part of the club. I know, Ashley. I know you were alone in a crowd of those people in their fancy clothes. You were alone with that douchebag too. The only place you’ve ever been yourself is on the back of my bike.” My eyes stare into his as I listen to his words. When did he figure me out? And why does it hurt so much that he did? “I know who you are. Whether you want to believe me or not. I know you’re that girl I married seven years ago. Not that weak absentminded girl you were with Victor.” Then he kisses my temple and moves away from me.
Tears stream down my face and I feel my back slide down the wall. Once my butt hits the floor I wrap my arms around my legs and I let it all out. That’s what you do, isn’t it? When you can’t take any more in, you let it all go.
He’s right about everything. I was always alone when I was with Victor, even when I was standing right next to him. I even had my own nights of waking up and reaching for Damien only to find Victor.
It broke my fucking heart every time.
Then I would have my own sleepless nights where he would be all I could think of. He even haunted my dreams when I did sleep which only resulted in me waking up and becoming restless.
I want Damien even when I hate him. He makes me strong while Victor only made me weak.
So I sat on the floor of Damien’s living room and I let it all go. All the pain and misery I’ve been harboring for years, like an open wound with nasty pus leaking out everywhere. And when I’m done and lying on the floor all cried out, Damien picks me up and carries me up the stairs and to his bed.
It doesn’t even concern me that I’m still butt ass naked. I just go to sleep as Damien loses all his clothes and climbs in next to me. And with his arms wrapped around me, I have my first true night of sleep in five years.
Ten
At some point I open my eyes. I feel like I’ve been sleeping for forever. Damien lies behind me, spooning me in the middle of the bed. His arm is over my waist and his other arm is under my head. His face is in my neck and his breath fans across my skin like a warm balm.
Okay, so I freaking love it.
But there is something vibrating downstairs. And I’m assuming it’s one of our phones. Damien must have left the door open to the bedroom when he brought us up here to sleep.
I carefully unwrap him from around me. His left eye pops open and he glares at me. “What’re you doin’?” he mumbles, his voice rough with sleep. I can’t help but smile because I missed him like this. His face is relaxed and his short hair is sticking up all over the place.
I lean down and kiss his cheek. Then I run my hand through his hair because I missed the softness under my skin. “Going to the bathroom. I’m not leaving. I swear.” I whisper to him.
He grunts and rolls over, sh
owcasing the huge Wrath tattoo on his back. Before a second has passed I know he’s gone back to sleep. I walk over to a black dresser and start pulling out drawers, looking for a shirt. I find several in a top drawer and pull out a black V-neck. I’m tall so the shirt barely covers my ass but I don’t really expect to see anybody but Damien.
Normally I don’t use my phone much. It generally just stays in my back pocket. Up until yesterday I didn’t have a man in my life so I didn’t have to worry about that. My brothers and my mom have their own lives to live and are too busy to text and call me. I left the only two people I could ever be friends with when Damien broke up with me. So yeah, my phone doesn’t get a lot of use.
I pad softly down the carpeted stairs and enter the living room. Our clothes are still lying around the floor and I bend at the waist to pick everything up. I move to the couch and sit down while my hand goes into the back pocket of my jeans.
Then my eyes about fall out of my head. I have fifty missed calls from several different people. Seems word got around about me being seen with Damien at the hospital yesterday.
My mom has called ten times.
Van has called five times.
Court has called fifteen times.
Channing has called three times.
Paisley, Channing’s girlfriend, has called three times.
Rachel, Court’s wife, has called seven times.
Uncle Greyson has called once.
Wesley, Greyson’s daughter and my cousin, has called six times.
Half of them also texted me. All pretty generic stuff. Like “Where the hell are you?”, “Call me back.”, “Who was that guy?”, and “You need to talk to me.”