by Deja Voss
I straighten my dress and make my way towards the door, motioning for Brooks to follow me.
“That was kind of hot,” he says, resting his fingers on the small of my back. “I kind of want to kiss you right now.”
“Let me get outside and wash my mouth out with gasoline first,” I warn him, laughing. “I’ll just syphon it straight from the tank on my bike.” I grab him by the hand and squeeze it, so glad that we survived this potential road block of our relationship intact.
“Goodbye, Mrs. Salazar,” I say as we head to the front door. “I hope you don’t mind company for a few days.”
“Why don’t you ever stay with us, Esther?” she asks. “You know you’re always more than welcome.” Of course I’m aware of that. They’ve been begging me since day one. But that’s not what I want from any of this. I don’t want a sugar daddy. I don’t want a life of luxury. I don’t want to pretend like I’m attracted to some man so that he lines my wallet. I want my club to be safe, my men to be safe. I want my crew to thrive. I’m not a sellout.
“You’re too kind. I need to get home, though. Thank you so much, Mrs. Salazar.” I hug her warmly. The woman is a weirdo, but when you get to a point in your life where you’re that rich, it’s almost excusable. I don’t know why, but I kind of feel for her. I don’t want to stand here any longer though. There’s only one thing I really want to do. “Do you care if I leave my bike here tonight?” I ask her.
“Not at all,” she says.
“I’ll have Gavin throw it on the trailer tomorrow.”
Brooks looks like a kid on Christmas morning. I should know; we spent every Christmas together growing up. Even all bearded and tatted and ripped, his eyes don’t lie.
“You care if I ride with you?” I ask him.
His smile says it all. This will be the first time that we did this together. It’s like sealing a deal; it’s making things official.
“You know we still have the hotel for another few days,” he says, raising his eyebrows.
“I wanna go home, Brooks. I want to go back where we belong.”
I grab my backpack from my bike and pull out some jeans and a t-shirt, changing in the middle of the parking lot. It feels so good to be out of all-powerful Esther mode as I slide into my leather boots.
“God, you’re so pretty,” he laughs. “I’m totally gonna kiss you now.” He puts his lips to mine, and I’ve never felt so right in my life. Obviously we just put a Band-Aid on my predicament, but it worked. Maybe Band-Aids are the best solution right now. Maybe we can just patch things together until we’re both whole again. “You wanna go back to the hotel and get our stuff?”
“We’ll let Gavin worry about it tomorrow. It’s fight night tonight. We’ll have the whole mountain to ourselves,” I wink. “You think she’s gonna be ok?”
“I think you just fulfilled her ultimate fantasy. She’s probably going to write you a thank-you note. Is that how it always goes? Do these men always offer to move you in, give you everything you could possibly want for, spend the rest of their lives buying your love?”
“Yes,” I say. “They’re all the same.”
“And you never took any of them up on that offer?”
I guess it sounds kind of ridiculous. I could’ve had it made a long time ago. Instead, I live in a trailer with my cat and work in a bar. My life is really modest. “The thought never crossed my mind,” I tell him. “The only thing I want for is my club to be safe and to spend the rest of my days with the people I love.” The way he’s tracing the palm of my hand with his thumb makes me feel like he gets it. I hope he gets it.
“Well,” he says with a shrug, “mount up, old gal.”
“Old gal?” I ask quizzically, putting on my helmet.
“Old lady?”
“How ’bout just old Esther for now,” I say, wrapping my arms around him tight, resting my chest on his back like I’ve longed to for all these years. Old Esther. Old Esther before the chaos. Before the sadness. Old Esther and Old Brooks finally right where they belong.
26
Brooks:
This ride is the one I’ve been waiting my whole life for. Sure, going off to war with the boys is thrilling enough. But this is a different kind of thrilling, and it’s actually a whole lot scarier than showing up for a raid or going on pick up duty. Slapping some petty criminals around, selling drugs, hell even watching a man take his last breath is nothing like knowing that I have my soulmate right where she belongs.
The fear that this is temporary. That even though things went perfectly today, it wasn’t a solution. It only made more problems. Still, watching her handle her business, watching her take charge of these people and put all her cards on the table for the club made me hard as a rock. It opened my eyes to the fact that what she does for the club is really something that none of us guys are capable of. It’s not about getting screwed for guns or money. It’s about truly fucking these men. Fucking with their minds until they concede.
So much stuff to unpack on this ride, when all I want to do is just enjoy having her pressed up against me. Every chance I get, I check her out in my side mirror. I have to make sure it’s really her here with me as we wind through the mountains of Pennsylvania. Every stop sign, I just need to touch her hand, every gas station we stop at, I need to feel her lips. It’s taking everything in me not to just pull over and take her in the bushes somewhere, push myself inside of her just for an excuse to be even closer to her. The woman wants to go home though, and that’s where I’ll take her.
It makes me respect her all the more, knowing that she’s had so many chances to leave us behind for a life of ease. Not that I ever didn’t respect her. She’s always been the best and most gorgeous woman in my eyes. It didn’t hit me until today that other men see it too. Not just her body. Her mind. Her essence. Everything about her. Everyone wants a piece of that.
But the only people who get it are the Misfits. And we have been way to oblivious of that gift for too long. None of us could go in there and do what she did today. Not by our force or even our words. And now she’s coming home with me.
The fact that she just traded a woman for guns, well, that just proves that she’s just the right kind of crazy for me. And now I’m fighting with an erection that just won’t quit on this long ride home.
It’s dark by the time we hit the clubhouse, and nobody is around. Everyone’s downtown at Gavin’s bar for fight night, and the silence is almost eerie. The only light on in the mansion is in Moses’ room, and even though I think I see a shadow in the window, I figure I’m just getting tired after the long weekend.
“You wanna go to your place?” I ask her as I idle in the parking lot.
“Can we go to your house?” she asks. I get it. Even though we’re getting to a point of good, my bike parked in her driveway might be taking things a little too far right now. I want to tell the world what we have, though. I’m ready to face the music and do whatever it takes to fight for her.
“You worried someone will see?” I ask her.
“Not at all,” she says, smiling at me in the mirror. “I just don’t feel like cleaning up broken glass tonight. I might have gotten a little bit heavy-handed with the baseball bat after the meeting the other day.” She is truly one of us through and through.
“Is old Gingerbread alright?” I ask.
“He’s staying at Gavin’s house this weekend. I was hoping he’d shit all over their house.”
“That’s my girl,” I laugh as we head down the road to my house. On my bike. Like we’re a normal happy couple. Like this is how it’s going to be, and it’s going to be so easy. Like it always should have been.
“Are you hungry?” I ask her, as she comes down my steps in a big gray t-shirt and a pair of my boxer briefs, her hair wet. It’s taken all I have to keep my hands off her since the minute we walked through the door, but it’s been a long day for both of us. I figured I’d let her shower and nap a little before I started harassing her.
; “I’m starving. Did you make me dinner?”
“I did,” I say. I’m even a little impressed with myself. Dad’s old recipe. One that I know she used to love back in the day. She opens up the oven door and laughs.
“No,” she says, smiling at me. “I haven’t had tater tot tacos since, shit, probably…”
“Before my dad died?” I ask. “You can say it. It happened. He did make this all the time though.”
“Yeah, well, all us kids loved it.”
“You think it’ll be as good as when he made it?” I ask.
“You got ranch dressing?” she asks. God, she’s adorable.
“Earlier today, you were wearing an evening gown and waltzing through Salazar’s mansion like you owned the place. Now you want tater tots covered in ranch dressing? You’re a real puzzle, Esther.” She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me on the lips.
“I know what I like.”
Her hair smells like my shampoo, but mixed with the sweetness of her. It’s cute, but weird. I grab her firm ass in my hands and set her up on the countertop.
“I know what I like, too,” I whisper in her ear. “I like you in a lot less clothes than you have on right now.” I peel off her t-shirt and toss it to the side, the sight of her breasts stirring my dick to hardness almost immediately. I like when I kiss her nipples and she starts to moan. I like when I can feel the heat from her pussy as I trail my hand down her stomach. I like how she can be the bossiest bitch in town, but with me, she lets herself go. With me, she lets me do what I know how to do best.
“I like getting you all worked up, Esther,” I say, kissing my way down her soft stomach, stopping just before the elastic on her shorts. “I like knowing that you’ll do anything I say as long as I get you off.” She’s running her fingers through my hair, urging me to go further. I grab her wrists in my hands, and she scowls at me, a glimmer of anger flashing in her eyes. “You’re gonna get what you want, girl. But I need to talk to you about something first.”
“Brooks, I tell you everything. You know that,” she sighs. “We don’t have any secrets. You know my job. You spied on me through my window and saw me, you know…”
“That,” I say. “I want to talk about that.” I watch her blush from head to toe as I hold her wrists tighter, my cock straining in my jeans like it’s going to bust through at any second. “Tell me how it makes you feel when you show your pussy all over the internet.”
27
Esther:
My heart is pounding. The way he has me gripped in his hands like this, pinned between his legs on the kitchen island; there’s nowhere for me to hide. I feel the blush burning through my entire body, my fair skin the color of a tomato by now.
“I won’t do it ever again,” I blurt out, more ashamed about this than anything else I’ve done in my past.
“I know that, Esther,” he breathes into my ear, the fine hairs on my neck standing straight up. “I’m not mad. Just curious.”
“I guess,” I say, taking a deep breath, “it just fulfilled some sort of need I have. When I go to work, people want me for who I am, for who my father is. It’s not sexy at all to me. It doesn’t turn me on. It’s just a job.”
“I didn’t ask you about your work, Esther. I know all about your work. I want to talk about your extracurricular activities.” The way he’s grinning at me just makes me feel that much more self-conscious, like he’s looking inside my soul, like he’s going to make me repent for all my highest sins. “Does it turn you on, knowing that a bunch of strangers are looking at your tits while they beat their dicks at you?”
I look away from him, avoiding his sexy, devious glare.
“Does it make you wet?”
Not as wet as I am right now, under his interrogation. Something about the way he’s putting it all out on the table, not quite shaming me, but making me confess, makes me squirm in his hands.
“Come on, girl; I’m dying to know,” he says, grabbing my chin in his hand, forcing me to face him down. I can feel his breath on my face, his lips mere millimeters away from mine. I blink long and hard, thinking maybe this is just a dream. A hot dream, albeit an awkward one.
Finally, I mutter, “It makes me feel alive. Knowing that these guys are just looking at me as some sort of slut, some sort of fuck toy. Knowing that they don’t know who I am or where I come from. Knowing that if things get out of hand, all I have to do is shut off my computer and walk away and I’m safe and sound in my own home.”
He nods, and lets go of my chin, reaching for his belt, slowly unbuckling it. “Fair enough.”
“It’s not like I had any other options, Brooks. You guys look at me like I’m damaged goods, either because of what I do, or who my father is.”
“Now you’re just making excuses, Esther,” he says as he slowly works his belt through the loops. He grabs my wrists once more. “I know who you are. I know what you’ve been through. You’re the woman I’ve always loved, and nothing you say or do can change that. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page here.”
He pulls my arms behind my back, securing my wrists in the looped leather, my bare breasts pebbled with goosebumps jutting out, inches from his face.
“That good for you?” he asks. I just blink again, not really sure what to say or do, just knowing that I feel more exposed than I ever have in my life. He tugs at my shorts, pulling them down my thighs with his big strong hands, tossing them to the floor. “I’d say yes,” he says, eyeing my swollen, soaking mound and shooting me a wink. “I want to make you feel alive, Esther. I want to make you feel like some sort of dirty slut. You can be my fuck toy whenever you want. And when I’m done with you, you’ll still be the girl I love. The girl I want to spend the rest of my life with. The girl I’m going to marry. The girl who’s moving into my house tomorrow.”
“Brooks…” I whisper, my heart beating through my chest, this mixture of lust and love and all my dreams coming true in one instant. “You didn’t have to tie me up. I’d still say yes either way.
“I know,” he laughs. “I wanted to, though. I want you to trust me with everything you have. I want you to know I’ll always keep you safe, I’ll give you the best life you could imagine. I want to show you that I know how to take care of you.” He presses his lips to mine, grabbing the back of my head and drawing my face closer and closer to his. “And now, I want to take your virginity like I should’ve all those years ago.”
I gulp, knowing exactly what he means. He unbuttons his pants and slides down his boxers, his cock standing at full attention, hard, pulsating, a bead of pre-cum drizzling from the slit. I lick my lips, the walls of my pussy contracting, desperate to be filled by his beautiful shaft. In an instant, he’s inside me, powerfully thrusting his hips into me, nearly sending me over the edge as he works his way in and out.
“You’re dripping,” he groans. “Just the way I like you.” When he pulls out of me and turns me over on the counter top, my breasts pressed into the granite, I feel my thighs tremble. I know what’s coming next, and I’m almost more nervous than I was the real first time.
Almost. Except this time it’s with someone I love and who loves me. Someone who I respect. Someone who didn’t have to buy me, but someone who’s always owned me, someone who’s always had at least some part of me, the most important part of me.
I feel his fingers circling that intimate spot, the spot that I’ve never shared with anyone. As he slides one in, my thighs begin to quiver. He uses his other hand to caress my clit, bringing me just right up to that edge. As he works another finger inside me, slowly stretching and preparing me for his girth, I start to relax. The sensation is so new to me, but it makes my core clench and my whole body tingle, and soon I am moaning, working with his thrusts, ready for everything he has to offer. I feel so helpless with my hands bound behind my back, but so right, so turned on.
This man would never hurt me. At least not in the kind of way that would leave me sad. Only in the kind of way that I like, that I’ve been
craving. He lines the head of his dick up with my hole and I take a deep breath.
“I love you so much, Esther. I always have, and I always will for the rest of my life,” he assures me. “Are you ready?
“Yes,” I cry out, like we’re diving off the cliff, like we’re exploring something unknown and the only thing I can do as he bottoms out, burying himself all the way inside me in one slow and controlled thrust, is scream out for him, every nerve ending inside of me firing in the best possible way. The way he’s holding on to my hips, his thighs pressed into mine, owning me deeper and deeper, has me on the verge of cumming on the counter without even moving a muscle.
Soon he’s thrusting in and out, slowly, tenderly, exploring my aching clit with his fingers.
“I’m gonna cum,” I whine, writhing from the pressure, feeling like I’m going to shatter into a million pieces. He just moans along with me, deep and growly, pushing me off the cliff with his touch. I feel myself squeezing him inside of me, and he pulls out with a grunt, coating my back with his hot jizz. He unties my wrists and flips me over, pulling me in for a long passionate kiss, sealing the deal, making everything he said come true.
This is how life’s going to be now. Me and him against whatever odds might come our way. Lord knows there’s going to be plenty, but that’s ok. All is right in the world.
He towels me off almost tenderly and lifts me up off the counter, carrying me to the couch in the living room. It’s cute, it’s caring, the way he’s speechless but tender at the same time, the way he won’t stop touching me, won’t stop brushing my hair out of my face, staring at me like if he blinks I’m going to disappear.
“Hey,” I finally say to him as he hovers over me like a dog guarding a bone. I pull his face to mine and give him a quick peck on the lips, running my fingers through his beard. “It’s ok.”