Twisted Christmas

by Sara Cate

  Possessed.

  He dips down, his rough lips pressing against my soft ones, and a stunned gasp leaves me. My hands go to his shoulders, because I’m not sure where else to put them. He’s so much taller than me. My feet step forward, landing on his boots to give me a higher boost. He walks me back again until I’m sandwiched against the wall, not an inch of air separating my body from his. It’s rock hard. Cement stone against my soft, pliant curves. My eyes shutter to a close, and I fully melt into him.

  Just as he deepens the kiss with his tongue, I let out a whimper, and not even a moment later does he rip me off of him, stepping back so suddenly that I can barely catch my footing. My hands go to the wall behind me for support as I take in a deep breath, still feeling the wetness on my lips from his.

  “I can’t. This is so fucked up. What the fuck am I doing?” he asks himself, his hands going through his hair, messing up his ponytail up even more.

  I stand there silently, watching him freak out in the barren, dimly lit hallway. The light above us buzzes and flickers, the power in this place barely functional. He glares up at it, a sneer overtaking his face.

  “It smells like fucking piss in here, Iris.” He can’t look at me, but his tone is still accusatory as he wears a hole into the floor.

  “I’m sorry?” It definitely does smell like piss in here, but I can’t fucking fix it, so why is he barking at me?

  His gaze whips to mine, and he prowls toward me once again. “What the fuck is it about you?”

  My body freezes, his hot and cold a whiplash I can’t control, can’t even anticipate at this point.

  “I met you once. In a different life, I suppose. The eyes, the hair, the skin. It was you. But it wasn’t, because you’re only seventeen. You weren’t even born when I met you before.”

  I frown. So this connection I feel with him, it’s all a lie? Something to fill his void, because he thinks I look like someone from his past?

  A cry wants to burst from my chest. My first ever emotion just has to be a fake one, a pretend connection that should’ve never been there in the first place. Of course.

  “I have to go,” I mumble.

  I turn past him, giving him my back as my eyes fill with unshed tears. I pull the key from the pocket of my sweatshirt, sticking it into the rusted lock. I jiggle it back and forth, frustration making it even more difficult to open.

  His fingers wrap around my bicep, pulling me away from the door. Then his other hand reaches up, and the rough pads of his fingertips go to my chin, where he pinches tight, tilting my face up to look at him. “You aren’t her. You aren’t anything like her, Iris, and that scares the shit out of me.”

  My mouth pops open in an O, and I watch as his eyes focus on my lips, his nostrils flaring as he intakes a breath. “You’re too young. A fucking child…” he whispers to himself before his lips once again come down on mine, stealing my breath with what feels like desperation in his kiss.

  “I’m not. I’m not a child,” I whisper against his lips, pushing myself closer against him, until I can feel the outline of his erection pressing into me. It feels massive against his jeans. I don’t know how he’d ever fit in me.

  More than that, I don’t know how he’d ever see me as something more than a child if he ever found out I was a virgin.

  “I can’t do this.” He pulls away from me once more, his eyes tortured, and his mouth screwed up like he’s in physical pain as he turns his back to me. “I’d fucking kill any guy my age if he was kissing Violet like this.”

  The torture is evident, emanating from his body so clearly. I walk up to him, laying my hand on his rippling back. “I want it,” I say simply. “I want you too. What if we were meant to meet? What if I was the one you were supposed to know all along?”

  His entire body tenses, seemingly torn in half by this revelation.

  This time he spins back around with so much certainty on his face. Certainty that wasn’t there before. He steps toward me, and my fingers dig into the leather of his vest, my thumb right below the patch that reads President.

  He pushes me backward, his hands going on each side of my neck until I’m gazing straight into his eyes. I can do nothing but watch as his eyes swirl with desire, turning the shade of whiskey that lingers on his breath.

  A low thump begins between my legs when his mouth lowers to mine again, this kiss so much heavier than every one before it. This one filled with a sexual need that I’ve never felt. Ever.

  His hands go to my ass, his entire palms covering my backside as he squeezes tightly. I go up on my tiptoes, moaning into his mouth with pure wanting. It’s unraveling, the thread of control I have becoming so thin; I feel on edge.

  I feel absolutely wild.

  “Please,” I murmur against his lips.

  “What do you need?”

  “I-I don’t know,” I whimper, feeling so needy that I don’t know how to control myself.

  His hand wraps around my waist, his fingers dancing along my stomach until he presses between my thighs, over the fabric of my leggings. It’s wet; I can already feel myself drenching the thin material. I’ve never been this turned on.

  “Jesus Christ.”

  His fingers move, thick and strong against my sensitive flesh. My underwear scrapes between my folds, wet and thick and heavy as it massages every sensitive crevice. Everything I need, Lynx gives to me with just a flick of his wrist. I can’t contain the whimpers and strangled moans that escape me.

  “Yes, just like that. You like when I touch between your legs?”

  I nod my head, my tongue darting out, slipping between his lips and gliding across his.

  He bites my lip, his fingers pressing harder against me. It makes me build higher, quicker than I ever thought possible.

  A tingling starts in my toes, making my thighs quake and my knees weak. He holds me up with his free hand, pressing me against his body as he ravages my mouth and seduces me between my legs.

  It comes fast, my orgasm ripping through my body and making a gasping moan tear from my chest.

  “Fucking hell.” His scruff scratches my neck, and he bites down on the skin, his tongue trailing along my collarbone.

  And he sucks.

  He sucks so hard that another orgasm lights within me, making my legs give out completely this time. His hands move to wrap around my waist, lifting me in the air. I hear whooshing in my ears, my sight fading in and out as I come down from my pleasure-filled high. My mind is completely blown.

  I settle my forehead against his shoulder as he moves.

  The sounds of a screech then click make my eyes widen, and my head shoots up on high alert. Lynx opens the unlocked door, settling me on the ground inside. His eyes glance around, seeing the mess and disarray of the tiny apartment. His face scrunches up in distaste, and I wonder what he thinks.

  Does he think I’m a slob? Does my lack of even a pocketful of money disgust him?

  Instead of acknowledging any of that, his eyes lock on mine. “Was that your first orgasm?”

  The bluntness of his words takes me aback. I blink at him, wondering how he’d ever be able to tell if this was my first or hundredth orgasm.

  “Why would you ask that?” I whisper my words, terrified that my mom could be here, only a few feet away on the other end of our apartment.

  He cocks his head to the side, not the least bit deterred.

  “Because of the way you moaned. Like you’ve never felt anything close to that before.” He blinks at me, his face blank. “Was it?”

  I nod hesitantly.

  “Fucking hell. What the fuck?” He steps back, his feet retreating into the hall. “What the hell am I doing?”

  Does he know I’m a virgin? Does he think my lack of experience makes me unattractive? He only wants people who have been rammed through a handful of times?

  I step toward him, wanting the connection back I felt only a second ago.

  “What? Me never having an orgasm upsets you?” I nearly cry, my hand
going to my throat to tamper down the whimper wanting to break free.

  He barks out a laugh. “No, Iris, that’s the problem.” He brings his hand up to his nose, with the fingers that were only moments ago between my thighs. Inhaling, his eyes flare with need once again. “The fact that I was able to give you something no one else has is the sexist thing in the world. Unfortunately, what just happened can never happen again.”

  My eyebrows furrow. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m too corrupt, baby girl. I should’ve never touched you like that.”

  He turns around, ready to leave me once again. I step forward, my hand wrapping around his wrist this time to stop his retreat. “Please, I don’t understand.”

  He looks down at my dainty fingers doing nothing to really keep him here. “Whether or not you want to believe it, Iris, you are too young for me. I’m not afraid of prison. I could fuck you on the front steps of the police station if I wanted to, bury my head between your thighs and inhale the delectable scent of your pussy. But I’m a fucking prideful man., Bringing you into my shit won’t be bringing you into any better of a situation than you are in right now, in this fucking shithole.”

  “Why can’t I decide for myself what is and isn’t good for me?” I gnaw on my lip, certain a few more bits against the tender flesh would crack the skin.

  This isn’t some twisted I don’t have a father, so I’m looking for one to fill his shoes, type of fetish.

  This is a I feel something with this man, something I’ve never felt in my seventeen years of life, and I don’t want it to escape my grasp.

  “Because I already decided for you.” With this, his free hand pulls my fingers off his wrist. Taking one more step back, he reaches for the doorknob, pausing for just a second before he opens the door and moves into the hallway. “Goodbye, Iris. Lock the fucking door.”

  He shuts it slowly, and when the click of the door shutting hits my ears, a wave of tears fills the rims of my eyes. My chest hiccups, and I cover my mouth, trying to silence the sobs that are on the verge of erupting.

  “Lock it, Iris.”

  I step forward, flipping the lock with every bit of emotion in me.

  Only when I hear the sound of his footsteps walking away do I finally allow myself to break down.

  Chapter 8

  My paper-thin pillow soaks with tears into the next day. I’m not sure where these emotions came from, but I let them break free, grateful for once that my mom was gone all night, so she didn’t have to ask me a ton of questions.

  But when the sun breaks through the windows, the air crisp, like it should be on Christmas Eve, the front door slams open, and the sound I can only attribute to my mom stumbling in reaches my ears.

  “Iris! Iris, are you home?”

  “She’s probably still trying to figure out how to suck dick.”

  Fucking Ray. I hate him so damn much.

  “Iris! If you’re home, get your ass out here!”

  “Ughhhhhh,” I growl, ripping the sheets off my body. A killer headache reaches my eyes, and I rub a hand down my face and massage my temples.

  I take a deep breath before opening my door, seeing my mom and Ray looking so wrecked and weathered as I peek out, that I want to shut my door and hide. I’d rather them believe I’m not here.

  “Where were you?” I ask, not really caring, but wanting absolutely no attention on myself.

  “We were down at Lucky for a while. No luck for Momma last night,” my mom says, holding onto Ray so she can bend over and take off her knockoff heels.

  “Where’d you get the money?” Considering she hasn’t bought and ounce of food for the month, no meal for Christmas, and not one present. But she has money for the fucking Casino?

  My blood boils.

  She glances up at me, her bloodshot eyes and messy hairspray-filled hair a complete disaster. “None of your business, Iris. But if you have to know, Ray paid for the entire evening.”

  Ray stares at me, his eyes looking me up and down. It feels like spiders and centipedes are running over my entire body.

  “Ray sure stays here a lot but can’t even pay for a damn meal.”

  “Hey! Watch your mouth!” Ray barks, taking a step toward me. My mom’s hand falls off him, and she stumbles to the side, grabbing onto the kitchen chair. It shoves into the table, making an ugly groan against the linoleum floor.

  I’m usually not so forward. I don’t speak up or say anything, mostly to Ray. I stick to myself, staying out of his way. I don’t like confrontation. I don’t like anything that has to do with fucking conflict. But after last night… after Ray, then Lynx, and now my mom, I feel moments from completely losing my shit.

  “I wasn’t fucking talking to you,” I snap.

  He takes another step toward me. “You put my name on your fucking lips, you little bitch, and I’ll make you talk to me.”

  I stare at him, wanting to punch him in the face so badly. I want his face to turn black and blue, even red for a second would suffice. I think of Lynx walking in here. He’d lay Ray on his ass, break every bone in his body by so much as breathing on him. It would take him nothing.

  Nothing.

  “I’m out of here,” I mumble.

  “You aren’t going anywhere with that kind of attitude,” my mom lashes out, standing up straight. She walks past Ray, getting in my face and grabbing onto my bicep. Her press on fingernails from Walgreens dig into my skin, causing me to wince. “What the hell is wrong with you right now? You on your period or something?”

  I rip my arm from hers. “No, Mom. I’m not on my period.”

  “Well then cut the fucking attitude and apologize to Ray.”

  I bark out a laugh, completely taken aback. After how they treat me all the time, literally don’t fucking take care of me or this place, and him calling me a little bitch, she wants me to apologize?

  “I’m not apologizing. When’s the last time you got me a present? When’s the last time you did anything Christmas related for me? Do you not realize it’s Christmas tomorrow, and we don’t even have a tree?”

  She rolls her eyes. “We never have a tree.”

  “Because you never get one!” I screech. “Not because I don’t want one. No presents, no acknowledgment, nothing. Do you realize how embarrassing that is for me? How depressing it is, year after year, that you do absolutely nothing? Like it’s just another day?”

  She sighs. “Iris, money is really tight…”

  “But you and fucking Ray have enough to spend the entire night at the casino?” My skin literally ripples with rage, I swear I’m hot to the touch. “You are an absolute disgrace. I’m out of here.”

  “Iris! No!” My mom steps toward me, but I slink away from her. “You are not leaving.”

  I stomp to the door, swinging it open so hard it bangs against the wall. Glancing over my shoulder, I stare at my mom’s hungover face and Ray’s pissed off eyes. “Both of you can fuck right off for all I care.”

  I slam the door closed, so damn proud of myself for standing up for myself for once, and so damn sad that this is how my life is.

  I run down the stairs, slipping through the crack of the propped open door. It’s even cooler out today, and the cars rush down the streets, everyone in a hurry to finish their last-minute Christmas shopping. The farther I walk through the city, the more the streets and shops are decorated for the holidays.

  Christmas bells chime from Salvation Army workers, lines to sit and take a picture with Santa assemble along the sidewalk near the strip mall, and Christmas trees for sale fill the parking lots.

  It’s Christmas Eve, and I’m feeling anything but in the Christmas spirit.

  What am I supposed to do now?

  I have nowhere to go, no one to see, nothing to do.

  But even as I say these words, I know I have one place I want to go. The only people I want to be with.

  And with that realization, I make my decision, knowing exactly where I’m going.

  Chapter
9

  It takes me a while, but I eventually find a young couple who are heading toward Phoenix for Christmas, and I’m able to hitch a ride with them.

  From the girl’s face as we neared the woods, I knew she didn’t want to go any further, so they dropped me on the outskirts of the thick trees. After a thirty-minute hike, the large gate finally comes into view. The dried streets have turned into ones lightly packed with snow.

  The guy behind the gate, I think his name was Brutus… Bronson… I don’t quite remember, sits behind the gate, a heavy leather jacket on his back as he scrolls through his phone.

  The sound of my feet crunching in the snow alerts him of my presence. He snaps his head up, and shuffles to a stand when he sees me, slipping his phone into his pocket.

  “You okay?” His face scrunches in concern, which I guess I understand. I’m in a sweatshirt and sweatpants with sandals on my feet. I probably look a little crazy walking through the snow, my nose red and my hair in a messy bun. I didn’t have time to get ready, and now I’m suddenly embarrassed and unsure of my decision to come here.

  Jesus, what the hell am I doing?

  “Is Violet here?”

  He nods his head. “Uh, yeah. Hold on.” He walks behind his booth to press a button, and I watch as the gate fully opens.

  “Thank you,” I mumble, walking through the yard. It’s quiet, so much different from the night before with the large party and the flock of bikers. Now only seven bikes sit outside the clubhouse. As I walk toward the door, it opens, Haley stepping out with a confused look on her face.

  “You okay, Iris?”

  Do I look upset or something? Or is it just that unnatural to see someone walk through their clubhouse?

  “I’m fine. Is Violet around?”

  She tilts her head, concerned. “Yeah, she’s actually back at the house. I can take you there if you want to see her.”