by Jax Hart
“Whoa there, sugar.”
But she ignores my half-assed protest and straddles my thick thighs, strands of her over-bleached hair fall in my face. Her hot breath smells like cinnamon and cheap wine. Her tongue darts out to lick her lips. I manage to push her away a second before they had every intention of landing on mine.
“What the fuck? Don’t you want me? I could make you feel so good, Duke.”
“Yeah, maybe later, sweetheart.” I push her off my lap with a wink and a quick slap to her ass making her giggle. But I’d never tap that shit. This chick’s ridden more miles than my truck. And I don’t want to run-up in some club skank.
“What’s the matter with ya’? She was ready to give it up to you, right here.”
“That’s the problem,” I answer Meat, taking a swig of the beer that appears in front of me.
“I haven’t fucked anyone in months, since before I met Shanna.”
“Well, that’s the goddamn problem right there. You need to let a load out for fuck’s sake.”
“Yeah? Well, she won’t be the one.”
“Jesus. Stop being so picky, at least get a goddamn blow-job.”
Shutting my eyes, all I see is that prick holding Shanna’s hand and wiping her tears with his lips. I tip my head back and swig my ice-cold beer, slam the bottle down and survey the room.
“Who’s that?” I nod over to the dance floor where a woman with hair the color of flames dances in black leather pants that hug every curve of her tight ass.
“Dunno. She’s new. Think her cousin’s a pledge or some shit.”
Grunting, I slap Meat on the back and push away from the bar. I’m drunk as fuck but still, manage to cross the room quickly. I stop right behind her. Her friend’s wide-eyed look forces her to turn around. She gasps, then smiles slowly.
“Hey, sugar. Wanna bounce?”
“With you? Absolutely.”
Grabbing her hand, I lead her to the bank of bedrooms down the back hall. When a brother is down on his luck with his woman or money; we let them chill here for as long as they need. But tonight, all I need is this redhead giving my cock some much-needed attention.
Kicking in the door to the last bedroom, I haul her in and turn the lock.
“You down sugar? You can say no or leave at any time.”
She laughs, “Hell no. I’ve waited my whole life to fuck a man like you.”
“Well let’s get started then.”
I shrug off my coat and unbuckle my belt; she reaches out and pushes my jeans to the floor then pushes me back on the bed. She takes control, undressing herself and then slithers down on me.
My eyes close as the silky strands of her hair trail down my chest. Her hot breath blows on my skin. My fists grab the sheets as she peels back my briefs.
“You’re a real Anaconda,” she moans as her lips rim around my head before closing on as much of my dick as she can take in.
“Well, tonight. He’s all yours sugar. Show me what you can do.”
She does.
She’s a fucking pro. My mind goes quiet. Images of sucking on Shanna’s full tits fill my head. It’s her I smell and see as this chick’s tongue works me. My balls draw up tight. Her tongue strokes me faster and faster, the suction she creates gets stronger.
“Fuck!” I roar, seeing another woman’s face, feeling another woman’s body. I try to push her away, but it’s too late.
My release jerks out of me in spurts. The last image in my head was of Shanna bent over while I rubbed my dick through her soaking folds and she panted that she was a virgin right as the tip of my dick was nudging her entrance, trying to find its way home.
I’m going to hell for sure now. I’m a sick fuck for even having those kind of thoughts about her. Despite the pit I’ve had in my gut ever since Will found Layla’s journals—my heart tells me that it’s just not true.
That girl always spit fire at me. She ignited my blood like no other. We were either on or off. But fuck, I might go to hell for seeing her face as I blow my load, but I’m probably going there anyway. This back-room blowjob isn’t doing it for me.
She leans back and exaggerates her swallow, while her hands circle her own breasts.
“My turn.”
She jerks her panties aside and tries to ride my face.
“I need a minute.” I grind out, trying to get away. It’s damn selfish but the thought of touching another woman but my sweet cherry, makes me feel sick.
It can’t be true.
But I read the words with my own eyes. Reading Layla’s journals was a friggin’ head-trip.
That bitch was whack.
When I saw the picture of Layla at the funeral—I instantly remembered her. She was the last person in Springdale I spoke to that night, so many years ago. I placed the cash in her palm that she needed to leave. Did I play a part in helping her desert her baby girl?
The devil in me could care less that she got hit in the crossfire of the club. If my need for her could move mountains and change the past I would do anything; anything I could to ensure a future with my sweet Shanna.
My blood boils imagining that kid touching her; comforting her. It reminds me she’s had no trouble touching that frat boy’s dick.
Flipping this chick over so fast she yelps in surprise, I take a thick finger and run it through her wet pussy. “Yeah, baby. You’re soaked darlin’. Hold on; I’m gonna make you come so good sugar.” My mustache tickles her ear as I whisper dirty fuckin’ things to her as my fingers find a rhythm, pinching her clit; then massaging the pain away before ramming up in her channel. She’s a dirty one. Easy to please. My other hand rubs her ass before spanking it, and then I finger her ass like a plug and take her clit with my other hand again.
“Duke! Fuck!” She calls out, as my hands work faster, longer, harder on her.
She moans into the sheets; I feel her tighten and come before sagging beneath me in relief. With one final spank, I leave the bed, find my clothes and slam the door to the adjoining bathroom.
“My name’s Fiona. Just in case you wanted to know who just made you come!”
I run the taps hot, washing the smell of a cheap fuck off of me. But damn, if Meat wasn’t right about one thing: This chick took the motherfucking edge off.
Fiona’s still on the bed. I took my time, hoping she’d leave. She crooks a finger at me while kicking her legs in the air and spreading them into a full V. She works herself while watching me with eyes full of lust.
“Next time sugar. I gotta bounce.”
“You good?” Meat asks slapping my back.
“No. But you were right.”
“Come on. I’ll drive ya’ home.”
“One-sec.”
On heavy feet, I walk over to Colin. “Sorry for your loss.”
He dips his head in acknowledgment. Shit. He’s halfway into a bottle of Bourbon. Will walks in as we’re walking out. “What’s up? You check on her like I asked?”
He shakes his head, “I did brother.”
“Did she find them?”
“She did. Did you get there in time to rip the pages out?”
“I did.”
I turn to Meat, but before I can ask he tells me, “I got strands of her hair from the brush in her dresser.”
I wipe my face with my hands, shaking on how close I almost came to fucking her.
Thank God, we didn’t.
Layla’s journals had too many bombshells to count. I’ve spent the past few months jerking off to the memories of touching the sweet virgin who just might be my half baby sister.
Shanna’s mother did my father on the regular. I thought it was just a stupid, drunk fuck or two and Pops thought it happened after Shanna was born.
He was wrong and now it’s up to me to find out the truth. Either way, I’m not sure if I’ll ever tell her.
It’s so fucked up; I’m barely processing it.
I wanted her so goddamn much but could do nothing but push her away from me. When we were alone up
in the cliffs of the Hills—the temptation to kiss her was dizzying. Seeing her in person after so many months of dreaming about her was overwhelming. I’m trying to get over my feelings in case this shit is all true. But I can’t. I’ve loved her for months. I can’t just flip a switch.
She can’t be my sister.
But every time I think fate can’t be cruel—I remember that I do know better.
Will follows us out to my truck, reached into the inside pocket of his coat and hands me the torn pages. Without thinking twice about it, I flip my lighter and burn them. Shanna can get pissed at me later. She’s been through too much to handle one more thing. I know she hates this kinda shit, but I love her in a way that I might go to hell for. She can never know about this. Especially if it turns out we’re half-siblings.
“I picked up a DNA test from a drugstore. We can do a quick one tonight and depending on results get more samples to send to a real lab. It’s your call.”
“No. Just send it all in to somewhere legit,” I answer Meat trying not to puke. I need more time. Not ready to face the truth yet. I’ve never been a fuckin’ coward, but this ugly secret is churning my gut like nothing else. Protecting Shanna is the only thing I’m living for now. That and holding out on the hope that we don’t share the same blood.
HIS HANDS RUN UNDER the back of my shirt. Instead of the familiar tug of desire and thrumming in my blood; his touch feels cold.
I shrink away from him, pulling the covers tighter.
“Fuck Shanna. We’ve been going out for three months. I’ve been a fucking perfect gentleman. But I can’t. I just fucking can’t wait anymore. Either you give yourself fully to me, or I’m out.”
I sigh, getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed, “I’m sorry.”
“Christ,” he mutters.“It’s him, right? Ever since you saw him in LA… you’ve been different. I thought I had a chance to win your heart. What a fucking joke.”
“Spence…” I place my hand gently on his arm, “I should love you. If I could choose for my heart—it’d be you. You’re the one I should choose… should love,” I break off shaking my head in the dark.
“It’s ok. It’s probably for the best anyway. I was going to wait to tell you that I’ve been accepted into Princeton for grad school. I’m leaving for the East Coast after graduation day. I got an internship with a huge law firm out there.”
I sit, in stunned silence for a moment, “That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.”
“I was hoping maybe we could work something out but I can’t hold onto you long-distance if you won’t even give me all of you when I’m still here.”
“I know,” I sigh. “But I do love you. I’ll never admit this to anyone else—I couldn’t have handled all the shit that’s been handed to me these past few months without you.”
With sad eyes, he gets out of bed and pulls his jeans on. “Let me guess: You love me, but you’re not in love with me, right?”
Slowly, I nod my head and bite my lip. Staring up at his gorgeous face; I just know he’s going to be somebody else’s happy ending, not mine.”
“I wish I could’ve been the one, too. I should go.”
He pulls his sweater over his rock-hard abs and bends down kissing me one last time.
“Goodbye, beautiful,” he breathes against my lips.
Shutting the door quietly behind him, I hug my knees to my chest. Just like that, I had my first real break-up. I didn’t love him like I should have. My love for Duke chased out the love that was growing for Spence from every corner of my heart.
Unable to sleep, I turn on the bedside light and flip open the journal on my nightstand. It’s been painful to read through them, especially the one that detailed her affair with Duke’s father and when Pops slept with that bitch, Dee.
My mother’s heart broke. She loved John Masters the way I love his son. John pursued Mom to burn Pops for sleeping with Dee Dee. John wanted her and Mom wanted him. Pops loved Mom but burned for Dee. God, it was such a mess… a soap opera worthy of prime-time television.
Mom left, half-hoping Pops would go after her. She apologized to me for being selfish and weak and for not being able to stay, not even for me.
She couldn’t watch the men she loved, fight over and fuck someone else. But the part that makes me burn with a rage I’ve never felt before, is when she writes about calling the house asking to speak to me, but Pops just hung up. Or the times she drove out here on my birthdays and holidays with gifts that he put in the trash.
All these years I thought she didn’t care. Didn’t love. And it was all a lie. Pops blocked her from me. And I’ve done everything for him, giving him all the love I have in my heart. He knew how much I was hurting and how much I always craved to feel my mama’s arms around me. I could’ve had it, but now she’s gone for good.
I stopped caring if he heard my cries every time Spence went down on me. I stared him down over the rim of my coffee when Spence slept over, and I cooked ham and eggs for them both wearing his shirt.
He knows I know.
He stopped looking me in the eye and his breathing is becoming more labored than ever. I just leave the house without even a goodbye. Meat took over being his nursemaid, ‘cause I was fucking done.
Rubbing my eyes, I put the journal down, too pissed to stay still. Making my way down to the kitchen I yelp with surprise seeing Pops sitting alone in the dark.
“You finished reading them all yet?”
Ignoring him, I grab a glass and fill it with cold water.
“The truth is like a coin: There are always two sides. She wrote her truth but it ain’t mine.”
“I can’t Pops. I-I can’t even put into words how hurt I am. You… you knew how much I wanted my mommy back when I was young. And to find out you kept her away when she wanted to see me? How can I possibly make peace with that?”
“Because she was a fuckin’ addict who whored herself out. She wasn’t fit to be the mud on the treads of your sneakers sweetheart. But she didn’t write that shit in her books now did she?”
“How do I know you’re not lyin’?”
He looks up at me sharply, “Have I ever lied to you girl?”
“N-no, you haven’t,” I reply softly.
“You might not like what I say, or how I raised ya’… but I always told shit to ya’ straight. I’m sorry the way everything has gone down baby girl. Shit’s been harder on me. You done with that frat boy, then?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Good,” he grunts. “He was never the one for ya’ anyway, and we all knew that. You might think I’m an old fool and it kills me to admit it, but the only man who can match you—is the spawn of that son-of-a-bitch.
“Duke?”
“Goddammit, yes. I know you’ve wanted out of this life since the minute you were born into it. Look at me, Shanna. You are much stronger than your Ma was. You can handle the club life and be the woman of the Prez. If you love him… you’ll fight for it. I know you’ll make it stick. No one is more stubborn than you, my baby girl. Lord knows you’ve had enough heartache. If he’s it for ya’ I won’t stand in the way.”
“Thanks, Pops, but Duke and I… we were over before we could even begin. It wouldn’t be right anyway, there’s probably still a warm spot in my bed where Spence was five minutes ago.”
“That boy was no match for you. You were leading him around like a pony on a lead.” He thumps his large hand on the table struggling to stand.
“You okay, Dad?”
“Oh, fuck me. I must look like shit. You haven’t called me Dad since the summer you turned nine.”
“Well, I’m still pissed about how you kept Ma away. I doubt I’ll ever forgive you. You have your side, and she had hers—but you’ve stolen my chance to make up my mind about all of it.”
“I did what I did to protect ya’.”
“That’s been your story for years. I’ve had enough. I’m done with the men in my life “protecting” me. I’m keeping Ma’s
apartment in LA. It’s rent controlled and furnished. As soon as I graduate—I’m outta here. I’m done with the club, the bar and my life here with the ghosts of all the lies and bullshit that’s shaped my life. Even though, none of it had anything to do with me,” I finish turning my back to him.
Through the window over the sink my eyes track the snow falling softly to the ground. Christmas came and went and I barely even noticed. The world around me keeps going by, while I’ve been stuck on the stories of the past. I feel dead inside; leaving is the only way to come alive again. Even running the bar doesn’t give me the joy it used to. I’ve always known deep in my gut; I’d run away just like she did. I understand her in a way Pops never could. But I won’t leave in shame and scandal. I’ll go with a diploma in my hand and a plan for my future that I create for myself not dictated by anyone or anything.
Without another word, I trudge back up to my room. My bedroom often felt like more of a prison than a place of solace. I know what I need to do to break free.
I always planned on going to LA. The fact that Duke’s there too has nothing to do with it. I keep telling that to myself while trying to sleep in the bed I let Spence touch me in, while in my head—it was always Duke’s hands on my body instead of his.
Sleep has become my pain and pleasure. It whisks me away from the crazy soap opera my life has become and somewhere between late fall and early winter my grief turned to numbness.
My days return to the gray monotony they were before. Classes. Bar. Bed. I don’t cook Pops bacon and eggs anymore. He barely leaves his room. I’ve never fallen into depression, but now I know what it’s like. It’s living in the gray, every second you’re awake. I keep trying to find color again, but I can’t. I fell down the rabbit hole in my mother’s journal. Her pain became my pain. My need to know and understand her won’t let me stop even if that’s what I need to do to crawl towards the light.
But my dreams—my dreams keep me held in the flames of fire. He’s there. He holds me, promising never to let go. His hands claim my body, his powerful hips and thick thighs holding me down as he drives into me over and over again. He whispers dirty things in my ear while his finger teases through my folds, entering me.