by Harper Sloan
‘Beauty,” he says, running one of his fingers down my face. “I have felt the pain of losing her for so long now, and not once have I met someone who could feel this. Want to give me more than that?”
“Not really… but I will,” I rush to get out when I see him start to pull back. Not physically. No physically, he is very much here but his eyes lose the light. “My sister. I lost her coming up two years ago.”
I flip to my stomach and move my hair out of the way. In the center of my shoulder blades is a single feather with a bird flying out from a fracture in the tip. Underneath the feather in tiny script are the words ‘Take this broken wing and learn to fly’.
“Kind of weird how close our ink is.” I say, trying to lighten the moment, but really, how can you make light of this shit.
“Grace would have loved you. Not many people would give me shit.” His lips ghost over my ink before I feel him move away. “She was only twenty-five when she died. I didn’t get the call for almost a week, a week she was gone and I had no clue that my other half…” He stops talking and visibly composes himself. “I felt it. People are always skeptical of the twin connection, but I felt it. It was almost like the string that connected us had snapped. Didn’t know it at the time, being that I was in the middle of a battlefield but looking back, I felt it.”
“How did she pass?”
“She was murdered.” I gasp, the sound echoing around the room, but he doesn’t even look at me. He is clearly lost in the memory. “The bastard she was married to fucked with her car. The only peace I have is that she didn’t suffer in the end. Married to that piece of shit for almost five years and I didn’t have a fucking clue he was beating her until it was too late.”
“What?” I whisper, shocked at the sound of my own voice. I sit up swiftly and just look at him, “What did you just say?”
“Fuck, I didn’t mean to get heavy, babe. Really. It’s been so long since I talked about her, I just lost myself for a second there.”
“He hurt her?”
He sighs deeply. “Yeah, Beauty… he hurt her.”
“Fia, my sister, her husband… her husband hurt her too. Only difference was I knew; I knew and I didn’t do shit because she wouldn’t let me!” His arms wrap around me and pull me close to his body. I know I haven’t dealt well with Sofia’s death. Brushing it under the rug and marching on seems to be working, and who am I to mess with what works. My strong exterior has become who I am but deep down inside, I just want to let it all out. Scream, yell, and freak the hell out that I will never see her again.
I tried, for years to get her to leave that bastard. Every time, she would just brush it off. Then she had Cohen and nothing would get her to leave. I begged, oh how I begged. “She kept saying she was okay! How is your husband beating you o-fucking-kay?”
“You never dealt with this shit.” Not a question. I go from sated to fucked up in the blink of an eye. Hello! Poster child for fucked in the head, right here!
“You know what’s fucked up? I begged her, I begged her, and in the end, she fucking shot the bastard. She shot him, but not before he got to her first.” He goes solid under me for a few seconds but I am too far into my memories to even process what makes him tense up. “Cohen was asleep upstairs.”
“Cohen?” His voice sounds off, almost strained.
“My nephew. Coolest kid in the world.”
“Nephew?” I turn to look at him when his tone finally registers.
“Yeah, Cohen. What is that look for?” He looks like he swallowed something sour. I know he likes kids, so it shouldn’t be an issue that I have a nephew… Jesus. Could it be possible that I misjudged this man?
He is silent for a while, just looking into my eyes. I can tell he wants to say something; the emotion behind his eyes is one I haven’t seen before, almost as if he is worried but pissed at the same time.
“What is going on with you?” I finally break the silence.
He shakes his head and brings his mouth forward to meet mine. “Nothing.” He offers a few small kisses against my lips before pulling back and looking into my eyes. “Nothing, just thinking. I don’t know why we crossed paths, but I can’t ignore the feeling that it was for a reason.”
“You aren’t what I expected,” I tell him.
“Right back at you, babe.”
When his mouth settles against mine again, I pull him close and dive in headfirst. Before, this was all about the game. Enjoy him while I can and stay away from any kind of attachment. But now, I feel like it would be impossible to walk away. He knows; this man knows how it feels to lose someone you love. In the small amount of time we have known each other I can tell he won’t be like Fia’s husband. No, not Greg. This man screams white knight.
When he settles his hips against mine and sinks deep, the last coherent thought that filters through my mind is that I want him to be my white knight. I want him to save me from me.
We finally fall asleep when the sun starts to climb. We have sweat-covered bodies and intertwined limbs. My body is deliciously sore and still craves more of what he can give me. He has taken me twice since our talk. Twice, and the sex just keeps getting better and better. This man, oh this man knows what he is doing.
I am lying between his arms and enjoying the feeling of his hard body against mine, while trying to figure out what woke me from my deep slumber. My mind is still a foggy mess from the night before and the exhaustion is hard to shake off.
“What the hell is that noise?” He mumbles into my neck, squeezing me tighter.
“I think it’s your phone?” I ask and wiggle my ass against his hardening erection.
When the noise finally stops, he rolls me over and covers my body with his. “Good morning,” he says with a smile.
“Good morning.” He moves to kiss me but I turn my head and cover my mouth with my hand. “No way! Morning breath!” I laugh into my palm.
“I don’t care.” He trails his lips down my exposed neck and nips his way to my breast. How can I argue with a man that is determined? And if I’m honest with myself, I don’t want to. My body has been demanding his since the last time he pulled out.
“Spend the day here. I know you are all ‘Miss Independent’ and shit, but stay, please.” Looking into his blue eyes and his wide smile, I know it isn’t possible to tell him no. All my previous misgivings have fled, and the only thing that is left is the desire to see what exactly is going to happen with this thing between us.
“Yeah, I’ll stay… if you make it worth it.”
If possible, his smile gets even larger. He throws his head back and laugh. “I think we can arrange that.” He reaches over, grabs another condom from the edge of the bed, pulls up to his knees, and offers me a wink before stroking his cock a few times. His eyes never leave mine when he rolls the condom slowly down his length.
“Tell me how bad you want my dick.” He commands.
His eyes are burning so bright and the wicked promise I see in them has me answering without hesitation, “I want your dick. I want your dick bad, baby.”
In a flash, he is covering my body and is stretching my sex wide with his slow entry. Our mouths fuse together; his tongue dances with mine. Each time we come together, it’s hard and fast, but this is something else. I could feel him, every inch of him. It feels as if we are not just physically, but also mentally marking each other. Right down to our souls.
Powerful.
I might not be ready to completely admit it, but this connection isn’t something we will be able to ignore.
When he sinks deep and rolls his hips, I think I am going to pass out. The rings in his dick add to the increasing pleasure, the one hugging my swollen clit sends shocks of pleasure pulsing from my center in waves.
He slows his attack of my mouth and with a few small kisses, pulls back, and looks into my eyes. “Never. Felt. This. Good,” he whispers against my lips, his slow thrusting bringing each word home. With one more kiss, he lifts his body from mine and bends h
is head to look down to where we join. I follow his gaze and watch as he slowly pushes deep, pulls out, and then repeats. There is something so erotic about watching him take me.
When his eyes come back up and meet mine, one side of his mouth lifts and his handsome features relax with pleasure as my body tightens around his. His lets out a strangled moan, closing his eyes slightly. “Love seeing you taking my dick. Soaked, baby.” He pulls out, keeping his torturous pace, and pauses briefly before slamming deep. “Goddamn, feels so fucking good.”
I vaguely hear the sound again that woke us up in the background, but when his hips rotate, and swirls of ecstasy start to take over my body, my mind no longer cares. My hips rise from the bed to meet his, his hands curl around my shoulders and use his hold to pick up his speed; the pleasure is almost too much to take. I wrap my legs lightly around his back and press my heels into his ass, silently pleading for him to take me even harder.
By the time both climb high and are about to push over, we are both covered in sweat and breathing like we’ve run a marathon. My fingers claw at his back and his teeth latch to my shoulder. It is raw, hard, and so fucking good that I never want it to end.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
“God, YES!” I scream and with a few more rolls of his hips, we both find our release. My vision goes black for a few seconds and those damn angels in heaven are singing again.
He rolls to his back, taking me with him. His breathing is just slowing down when the phone next to his head starts ringing.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he rumbles under my ear. Reaching over, he snatches the phone off the cradle and barks a nasty, “What?”
He is silent for a while, offering a few gruff manly grunts and then disconnects. “Gotta take care of this shit real quick, babe,” he says softly with only a small bite left to his tone. Apparently, his anger at the caller has diminished slightly. At least he doesn’t direct it at me. “Go run a bath and I’ll be right back, yeah? Need to go down to the gates and help out a situation.”
My body is still enjoying the blissful state he just put me in, so it takes me a second to understand he is leaving. But, he said he would be back, and that is good enough for now.
I roll to my side and watch him hastily pull on some sweats and a faded USMC tee shirt. “Be back, Beauty.” With a small smile and a kiss, he takes off out the door. I stretch and look up at the ceiling.
It seems strange that we are this comfortable with each other after only knowing each other for a few days, but there is a connection there that is hard to ignore. Still, a small part of me worries that he might be hiding something. I have spent more years than I can remember during and after Fia’s death feeling like all men are evil. But my gut, my gut is telling me to stick this one out… to trust this man. For now, I plan to just enjoy life and live it day to day the best I can.
With a vow to give this guy a chance, I jump out of bed and take off for the promised bath.
The last thing I want to deal with after what could possibly be the best fucking sex I have ever had in my life is crazy Mandy. It is easy to ignore the phone when I have Melissa’s wet, tight heat hugging my dick. There isn’t a goddamn thing in the world that could pull me from that. The feel of her body. I have never experienced anything like that, and it is something I’m not willing to give up anytime soon.
I knew when I first saw her that she would be someone worth the trouble, and trouble she is. Fuck. My pants are getting tight just thinking about all that feisty attitude she throws around. The last thing I need when dealing with Mandy and her crazy is a goddamn hard on. She would take that shit as encouragement.
Leaving the house and knowing that Melissa is currently naked and very sated in my bed is hard. I should be worried about the connection being so intense between us but this is what I have been looking for, what I want.
The only problem with that is the potential ‘fuck me’ she dropped last night. When she told me about her sister, my heart stopped. Right there in my chest, the bastard just skidded to a big fucking halt. Could I be sure? No. Am I pretty fucking positive that her sister was Sofia Wagner? Yeah. First chance I get I am going to rain a fire storm on Derrick. A son? Not once did he mention she had a kid who survived that shit. Fuck me, he didn’t tell me there was a kid at all! Sure, I could blame myself for not checking more into it, but that’s what I pay Derrick to do. Simon would know within a second if I were watching him again. Slimy motherfucker.
I have been so consumed with finding some sort of vengeance for Grace that I let it blind me. Axel told me from day one to let one of the other guys take over and be the eyes for me, but it is just too important to me. And in the end, I have nothing to show for it. Grace is gone, Melissa’s sister is gone, and that motherfucker got the easy out.
Now, I have to figure out if I can tell Melissa that the man who took her sister, her nephew’s mother, is someone I have tried and have been unsuccessful in stopping.
I slam my fist into the steering wheel and start the truck. It doesn’t take me long to reach the front gate and see a worried looking Stan.
“Hey man, where is she?”
“Oh hey, Mr. Cage.” He is pacing back and forth in his small little house office, clearly shaken by the crazy bitch that has become my shadow. Give a girl some good dick and all of a sudden, they think you have the answers to world peace. “She—she is over there, Mr. Cage. I am so sorry to call so many times, but she wouldn’t leave and when she started to try and climb the gate, I didn’t know what to do.”
“You did the right thing, Stan. Don’t worry about her. I’ll straighten her out right now, okay?” Poor old guy, thinking he has an easy job to keep him busy between his golf games.
Walking over to the gate entrance, I see her standing by her car with her arms crossed and attitude flying high. What. The. Fuck?
“Amanda.” She doesn’t even flinch at my biting tone. Not a brow lift, lip curl, nothing. Not a single reaction to the fact I do not want to see her here. “What are you doing here?”
She moves now, pushing herself off her immaculate BMW that I’m sure her daddy bought her, and strutting like the practiced whore she is. “Greg, baby… I knew you would be happy to see me! I wanted to surprise you and bring you breakfast in bed, but that man wouldn’t let me in. I told him you wouldn’t mind, baby.”
I look around to see if I can find the hidden cameras that have to be around here somewhere. There is no fucking way this bitch is for real. “What the hell are you talking about, Mandy? Never. I would never give you access to my house like that. You only know where the hell to find me because I was hard up enough for some ass that I brought you here; that was my mistake. You need to go home, Mandy. Go home and forget that you know me.” Turning around and walking away from the gate should have been easy, but when I hear a banshee cry, I can’t help but turn back around.
To say I was shocked to see her attempting to climb the gate is an understatement. But there she is, all long legs, short skirt, and blonde hair trying to scale the fucking gate. Twilight Zone, that is the only explanation I can even begin to think.
Shaking my head at the absurdity that is Amanda White, I turn and attempt to make my way back to Stan, but before I can even take one step, she is screaming. Not just normal crazy girl screaming, but this shit sounds like it is straight out of the exorcist. I check with Stan before moving back to deal with the nutjob doing her best impression of a monkey on fucking crack. Poor guy looks terrified.
“Mr. Cage? Do-do you need me to call someone?” He steps back into the safety of his little office but holds the phone out the door. “Just let me know, Mr. Cage.” And with that, he shuts the door.
Fucking figures. All I want to do is get back to Melissa, but this shit has got to stop.
When she sees me starting back in her direction, she immediately quiets and starts back down. Her shirt is half-unbuttoned, she’s missing a shoe, and I’m pretty sure all of her sanity.
“What
in the fucking shit do you think you’re playing at right now, Mandy?” I growl. My voice sounds about as lethal as I have heard it before, and this is the first time I have ever directed this tone towards a woman. “This isn’t what we have and you know it.”
“But… baby,” she whines, “I saw you last night. During the ceremony, you kept looking right at me. Like you couldn’t wait for that to be us. I know you are just playing hard to get right now. It’s okay, baby. I know what you really want.”
How in the hell is it possible for me to misjudge someone this badly. On a scale of one to ten, this chick is a fifty, and that’s being generous, in the off her rocker, needs a white jacket and daily pills fucking crazy.
“Open it up, Stan,” I yell over my shoulder. When the gate is open enough for me to slip through, I make my way closer to her. There is no fucking way my face is inviting contact but that doesn’t stop her, hell no it doesn’t. Apparently, stepping through those gates is my first mistake. Thinking she might have any sanity left is my second. She squeals, like a goddamn seal and launches herself at me.
“Oh, baby! I knew it!” I can feel her ridiculously long nails biting into my neck as she peppers her mouth all over my face. Trying my best to fight the urge to shove her off, and failing rapidly, only fuels my fury.
“Get off me right now.” She has her legs wrapped around my hips and doesn’t even loosen the grip she has on my head.
“Why, baby? Don’t you want to take me back to your place now? We can celebrate!”
“Off. Me. Now.”
“Okay, silly! I get it; you don’t want anyone to watch. I know how you must want my body for your eyes only.”
What the fuck! “Woman, you have lost your fucking mind. Let me clue you in real quick because I have better things to do right now. Going to be clear as I can fucking be so there is no goddamn room for your head to twist this shit into something it isn’t. Something it sure as shit will never be. First, I damn sure wasn’t looking at you yesterday. Who I was looking at isn’t your fucking business, but I can assure you she knows that it was her my eyes couldn’t leave. Second, this is not hard to get. This right here, this is me trying to get the hell away. And last, I do not want you anywhere near my bed. What I want is back at my house keeping the sheets warm until I get back. What I want is so far from what this bullshit is. Hear this, Mandy; you were convenient. I needed something that you offered and never made promises to you for anything else. Don’t. Fuck. With. Me.”