by Easton, BB
“Not if you leave.”
Shit.
Rain’s chest rises and falls as her breathing speeds up, and I know I brought it up too soon.
“I …” She looks around—at the blanket, at the candles, at the guitar in my hands—and I prepare to hear another, I can’t.
But instead, Rain mumbles, “I’m not ready.”
“I’m not ready.”
I can work with that.
I smile and tuck my knuckle under her chin, encouraging her to lift her head. I don’t know how, but I feel more fucking connection in that half-inch of contact than I’ve ever experienced with another person in my whole waste of a life. I feel her struggle as if it were my own, and I guess, in a way, it is. The only difference between us is that she hides from her pain.
While I run away from mine.
Rain lifts her eyelids, heavy with fat black lashes, and looks at me with a silent plea.
“You will be,” I answer with more confidence than I feel.
That earns me a tiny smile.
“Plus, we can’t leave right now. I haven’t found your favorite song.”
That earns me a bigger smile.
“You really suck at this.” She grins.
“Damn, woman. Give me a chance.”
Rain giggles as I stand and pull her to her feet. I grab the duffel bag and guitar but leave the candles.
Maybe I’ll get lucky, and we’ll burn the place down.
I turn to start walking, but Rain doesn’t follow. Her eyes are locked on that goddamn blanket, and before I can stop her, she’s moving toward it.
Fuck me. Here we go.
I hold my breath as she lifts it off the ground. Draping it over her arms, Rain hugs the fuzzy woven fabric to her chest like a teddy bear, and I prep for the waterworks to start. I sling the guitar over my back and get ready to drop the duffel bag, so I can catch her when her knees buckle and the hair-pulling begins.
Her face crumples as she buries her nose in the cable-knit nightmare. A tear spills over her busted cheek.
But my girl stays strong.
With a deep, steadying breath, Rain lifts her head, looks at me in utter fucking sorrow, and says, “We need something to sleep on.”
There’s my little survivor.
Supplies over goodbyes.
I don’t make a big deal about it, but inside, I’m fist-pumping like one of those Jersey Shore douche bags. I’m gonna get this girl outta here by the end of the week. I know it.
I sling the guitar back around to the front as we head toward the bookstore—our bookstore—to break the silence. “Okay, pop quiz …”
I play the guitar line from “Hey Ya!” by OutKast and laugh when she tucks the blanket under one arm and does the clap, clap, clap part.
“Nice. Didn’t expect you to be a hip-hop fan.”
“What?” She shrugs. “Everybody knows OutKast. They’re from Georgia.”
“True. How ’bout this one?”
I play the intro to “Call Me Maybe” and sigh in sheer fucking delight when her nose wrinkles and her head tilts to one side.
“No? What about this one?”
I pluck the first few notes of “Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down” as we walk into the almost-pitch-black bookstore, and Rain calls it before I even get to the chorus.
“Oh! Fall Out Boy! I love them.”
I’m glad she can’t see my face right now because my smile is smug as fuck.
“Did I pass?” Rain asks as I stop at the bottom of the tree house ladder to give her a hand up.
“I think I’m the one who passed.” I give her a swat on the ass as she heads up and chuckle when she yelps in surprise. “I know your song.”
“Oh, really?”
When I climb in behind her, Rain is sitting, facing me with her arms folded over her chest.
For a guy who has nothing to prove, I fucking love proving myself to this girl.
I sit with my back against the wall and strum lightly as I build my case.
“Yep. You like alternative music …” I switch to a gritty rock-’n’-roll riff and pause for a second when I realize that it’s one that I wrote years ago after finding an old Gibson acoustic in Foster Mom Number Nine’s basement. I’ve never played that song for anyone before.
I shake off the significance and keep talking, “But you also like girl-power anthems …” My notes morph into the whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh-oh part from “Single Ladies” by Beyoncé.
Rain laughs and does the little hand movement from the video, which only fuels my ego as I settle on a new tune. It’s softer and slower and definitely sadder. I’m afraid it might be too much, considering how far she’s come today, but fuck it. It’s the truth, and right now, the truth—and this guitar—is all I got.
“I think you might be a Paramore girl.”
I tell God he’d better fucking back me up on this one as my strumming gets louder. The simple, soulful melody is synchronized with every beat of my own bleeding heart as I open my mouth and sing the first line.
About a girl watching her daddy cry.
Rain clutches the blanket to her chest and listens as I tell her the story of a woman who’s afraid to get hurt after watching her parents break each other’s hearts. She tries to protect herself. She tries to avoid the pain of being left. But when she finally falls in love, she realizes that it’s worth the risk.
I hope she’s fucking right.
I can’t really see Rain’s expression in the dark, but as I let the final note fade out, I know I’m going to find tears before I even reach for her face.
“How did you do that?” She sniffles, and when she leans into my touch, I know I got her.
I shrug. “When you’re in the system, you get good at figuring people out. Fast.”
And when you’re stuck with the same bunch of assholes your whole life, like Rain, I guess you get good at hiding.
She inhales deeply and sighs. “So, what’s the name of my new favorite song?”
I place the guitar in the corner and crawl over to her. Laying her down, I take the wadded-up blanket out of her arms and set it behind her head like a pillow. “‘The Only Exception.’”
Gazing down at her, I know now that that’s exactly what she is for me. The only exception to all of my rules.
No getting attached.
Leave before you get left.
Supplies. Shelter. Self-defense.
Survival above all else.
Now, they’ve all been crossed out with a giant X, and next to them, in murderous block letters, are the words Protect Rainbow Williams. That’s all I fucking care about now. Keeping her safe. Keeping her—period.
I was afraid she would hurt me, but while I was gone, I realized that she’s the only fucking thing in my life that doesn’t hurt.
“Wes?” she asks, her voice small and shaky as she slides her fingers into my hair and pushes it away from my face. “Will you still be here when I wake up?”
Guilt seizes my heart and squeezes it in its fucking fist. Bracing myself on my forearms, I lower myself onto her soft, warm body and press my lips to hers. Blood explodes through my veins on contact, but I don’t move. I hold that kiss until I feel her relax beneath me. Until I know she’ll believe me when I finally promise, “Forever.”
Satisfied, Rain pulls my face back down to hers and kisses me like forever might actually exist. Slowly. Sweetly. Without the ticking clock of April 23 looming over our heads or the hooded horsemen from hell breathing down our necks. Without blood on our hands or ash in our hair. Without wonder or worry about how it will end. Because we started at the fucking end.
Now, we get to begin.
Tilting my head, I deepen our kiss and try not to smile when I feel Rain’s hips rock against me in response. We might have forever, but I have a week’s worth of pleasure to make up to this woman, and I think she’s waited long enough.
Gripping her hip with my right hand, I press myself against her and feel a moan vibrate through her ches
t.
“I missed you,” she whispers, weaving her fingers deeper into my hair.
“I …” I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself to speak around the knot of remorse in my throat, “I didn’t think you would. No one ever has, so … I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Rain. If you want me, I’m yours.”
“Forever,” she repeats.
My promise sounds more like a prayer coming from her lips, so I dip my head lower and seal it with a kiss. Our bodies move instinctively as I pour my heart out through my mouth—kissing her deep and slow, like a love song.
And somehow, Rain knows all the words.
Her body rolls and writhes beneath me as our tongues swirl and our breathing becomes heavy. I grind against her faster, wanting to make her come just like this—with nothing more than a kiss and promise.
“Wes,” she rasps, tilting her head back.
“Mmhmm …” I hum, sucking on her fat bottom lip.
“Wes …” Rain’s voice sounds more frantic, but her hips keep working in tempo with mine. “These are my only panties!”
I chuckle against her panting mouth. “Not anymore. I grabbed you some extra clothes while I was at your house.”
With that, Rain grabs my head and crushes her mouth to mine. The arch of her body underneath me, the needy moan in the back of her throat as she comes undone, the way she forgave me with open arms and is holding my face right now like I’m fucking precious—it overwhelms me, and suddenly, Rain isn’t the only one who’s going to come from a single kiss.
I push myself off of her, kneeling between her legs to try to calm down, but the sight of Rain basking in post-orgasmic bliss before me does nothing for my throbbing cock.
Opening her eyes, Rain takes one look at my face and then lets her gaze slide down my fully clothed body to the massive bulge right in front of her. With a swollen-lipped smirk, she reaches up and unfastens my belt.
I grab her wrist in warning. “Let me make you feel good a few more times first. I have a lot of making up to do.”
“It’s my birthday,” she says with a devilish grin. “I can do whatever I want.”
Can’t argue with that logic.
I let go of her wrist and watch as Rain slowly unbuttons my jeans and spreads the fly open. Her fingers slide up the shaft of my swollen cock through my boxers, and it jerks against the waistband.
Fuuuuck, this girl is killing me.
Without sitting up, Rain shimmies my pants and boxers down over my ass and licks her lips as my cock falls free.
“Come down here,” she says, her voice laced with need.
I don’t understand what she means until Rain grabs my hips and tugs forward gently.
Oh shit.
“You want me to fuck your mouth?”
Even in the dark, I can see Rain’s skin flush at my words. She drops her eyes and nods with a tight-lipped smile.
My balls tighten, and I do as she said, straddling her waist and leaning forward onto my hands. I drop my head and watch as her kiss-swollen lips part, and her little pink tongue slides across the head of my cock.
“Fuck,” I hiss, trying to hold still as she wraps her warm mouth around me and sucks her way to the end.
“Rain, you don’t have to—” I start, but I can’t finish my sentence because if she doesn’t keep doing what she’s doing right now, I’ll fucking die.
I hold my breath, afraid that if I move a single muscle, I’ll hurt her, but once Rain sets a rhythm with her mouth and her hands, I’m powerless. My hips buck as she takes me deeper, works me faster, sucks me harder. Sweat rolls down my neck as I struggle to maintain control, but when she moans, throaty and raw, when I hear how fucking turned on she is, I lose control.
My entire body goes rigid as I pour myself into Rain’s soft, warm mouth. Waves of pleasure roll down my spine as her tongue works me over, sucking and swallowing every last drop until I’m spent and empty and full at the same time.
Rain looks up at me with a smirk on her plump lips and pride in her pretty blue eyes.
“You’re fucking up my apology.” I smirk back.
Rain’s mouth spreads into a full-on grin. “Sorry.”
“Liar.” I move backward down the length of her body until I’m straddling her thighs. “Now I gotta start all over.”
Rain giggles as I pull her hoodie and tank top off over her head, and the sound is music to my fucking ears. She arches her back so that I can unfasten her bra, and the smooth curves of her body are a siren’s song that I can’t ignore. My fingers slide over her full tits, squeezing and rolling her perky pink nipples until her hips lift off the ground in need.
Fuck.
Even in the dark, Rainbow Williams is sexier than anything I’ve ever seen in the light.
She reaches for my open shirt, attempting to push it over my shoulders, so I shrug it off for her along with my holster. As I pull my tank top off over my head, I feel her gentle hand slide down and around my already-hard cock.
“Uh-uh,” I tease, grabbing her hand and pinning it next to her head. “Not yet.”
The side of Rain’s mouth curls up, and my dick jerks in response, remembering how fucking good it felt to be in there.
“You can grab this.” I place her hand on her boob and give it a little squeeze, earning me a giggle. “You can grab this.” I lift her hand to the top of my head, where she gives my hair a tug. “Or you can grab this.” I lace my fingers between hers and feel a sudden bolt of electricity binding us together the moment our palms meet. “Got it?”
Rain nods, but the humor is gone from her face. Tender, doe-eyed sweetness replaces it as she brings our joined hands to her lips and plants a kiss on one of my scarred, busted knuckles.
Something clicks inside my heart. I feel it, like a fresh battery being snapped into place, and I realize that the aching, echoing hole in my chest—the one I’ve lived with my whole fucking life—wasn’t there because I was empty.
It was there so that Rain could reach in and fix me.
I press our joined hands to the plywood above her head and kiss her again, this time with all my working parts. This woman found me broken and made me whole, and I’m suddenly determined to do the same for her. I will get her the fuck out of here. I will give her a happy life, even in this shithole, lawless, dumpster fire of a world, and starting right now, I will love her the same way she loves me.
As if forever really exists.
Trailing wet kisses across her jaw and down her neck, I take my time, savoring the salt on her skin and the swell of her blood pumping beneath it. When I get to her nipple, I work it slowly, with my tongue, my lips, my teeth. I time my movements with the rise and fall of her perfect, heaving tits. But when I go to pull my hand away so that I can unfasten her jeans, Rain refuses to let go. I smile against her heated skin and pull our entwined fingers down together. Clumsily, I get her pants unbuttoned and fumble to untie her bootlaces with my one free hand.
But I don’t mind. If Rain wants to hold my hand for the rest of her life, I’ll fucking cut it off and give it to her.
Once I slide her jeans and ruined panties off over her bare feet, Rain parts her legs for me, and it feels like I’m being welcomed home.
With our hands still joined, I kiss my way from the inside of her ankle, up to her knee—which must be ticklish because it jerks and smacks me in the fucking mouth, causing Rain to giggle—and down to the soft, needy, glistening place that I plan on worshipping for the next few hours.
When I slide my tongue up her seam and around her clit, I do it only because I want to make her feel good. There’s no pretense. No impatient foreplay so that I can get off and go to bed. I don’t go straight for the spots I know will make her thighs tremble and her back arch just to speed things up. I settle in, and I let her body tell me what it wants. Long licks elicit hushed moans and slow body rolls. Swirling circles earn me short whimpers. A teasing finger causes her to buck her hips against my face, but two fingers, knuckles deep, have her head thrown bac
k and her fist in my hair. Up and around, up and around, my tongue and my fingers ride the wave of her body, rising and falling with her quickening breaths. But still, I wait. I keep her in heaven as long as I can until her fist tightens in my hair and her thighs clamp around my ears and the first flutters of an orgasm tickle my fingers.
Then, I suck.
Rain’s entire body contracts around me as she writhes and pants and growls the sexiest fucking sounds I’ve ever heard. I slide my fingers out and replace them with my tongue, wanting to drink every drop of her the way she did me.
“Fuck, Wes,” Rain rasps, pulling my face up toward her with her free hand.
Her other one is still clutching mine, and the sight of our fingers entwined has my newly repaired heart acting like it’s on the fucking fritz already. It skips a few beats entirely as I climb up her boneless, spent body and press a kiss to her love-drunk lips.
“I’m not done yet,” I promise, sliding my aching cock over her slippery, swollen flesh.
Rain shoves her toes into the waistband of my jeans and pushes them as far down my legs as they will go.
“I’m gonna make you come once for every night that I was gone.”
Rain’s head falls back onto the plywood with a dramatic thunk, but her hips rise to meet mine, thrust for thrust.
I would chuckle at her mixed signals, but this feels too fucking good. I drop my forehead to hers as we move with and against each other, seeking friction in the slippery mess we’ve made. Our mouths collide in a torrent of tongues and teeth as the pace quickens until I can’t fucking take it anymore. I need to be inside Rainbow Williams more than I need my next fucking breath.
Pulling her knee up to my ribs, I surge forward, filling her completely in one delicious fucking motion.
And Rain comes on contact.
Her nails dig into my back, and her moans echo down my throat as she pulses and arches and glows in my arms.
And I follow her into the light.
The darkness behind my eyelids goes white as I hold her shuttering body to mine. As I fill her with everything that I have. Everything that I am. Everything that I want to be for her. I could stay here like this forever, basking in the afterglow of my girl on fire.