Low Sided

by A. J. Downey

  We settled into the couple of chairs and basked in the fire’s glow as the sun finished setting somewhere off to our left behind the trees.

  Raven sighed in contentment.

  “It’s so quiet,” she said, and I smiled.

  “Whole point was to relax and unwind, right?” I asked.

  “Absolutely,” she answered and leaned way over the arm of her chair with her lips puckered invitingly. I met her halfway and kissed her softly, and damn. It didn’t matter, the first time, this last time, every time she kissed me, I got hard.

  We sipped hot tea in the cooling evening temperatures by the fire and laughed and talked. It had been a long day on the road, even with all the stops, and we were tired. After about her third yawn, I had to smile and say, “Alright, sleepy girl. I think it’s time for bed.”

  “Mm, I can’t argue with you there,” she said.

  It was then an owl called somewhere out in the night and the look on Raven’s face, her eyes lit up, her excited grin was everything, and damn if I wasn’t hopelessly in love with her.

  The next morning, I woke my sleeping beauty with a kiss on every rose of her darkly colorful tattoo. She smiled, and breathed in deep, stretching luxuriously like a cat, reaching back to cradle the back of my head and draw me closer.

  “Good morning,” I murmured against her skin.

  “Good morning,” she greeted me back and tipped her face back to kiss me.

  She hummed in pleasure, and I trailed a hand down her body, caressing her silky soft skin with my rough palm.

  “How’d you sleep?” I asked, wanting nothing more than to make love to her right here and right now, but exercising restraint. If I started now; we would spend all damn day in bed. I wouldn’t let her out, and there was far too much I wanted to show her out here.

  “Mm, good.” She bit her bottom lip, her smile escaping the hold of her teeth, her eyes alight with joy and I caressed her cheek, committing her face, this moment, to memory.

  “Hungry?” I asked.

  “Starving, actually.”

  “Let’s have some breakfast.” I pecked the tip of her nose and she crossed her eyes and laughed.

  We got up, and each used the restroom and got dressed. She made some hot tea while I heated up the pull apart and we breakfasted out on the deck listening to the morning birdsong and watching the morning light filter through the mist and trees.

  “What are we doing today?” she asked.

  “I thought we’d poke around Port Townsend and check out some of the shops. Maybe have some lunch and take a hike out to the sea glass beach.”

  She perked up.

  “Sea glass beach?” she asked.

  “Ahhh, I thought you might like that,” I said.

  “Absolutely! Sounds wonderful.”

  That’s what we did. We took a ride into Port Townsend, stopped for some coffee in this quirky little strip mall since the tea didn’t really do much for me by way of caffeination, and leaving the bike parked with three others, struck out on a walk down Water Street and the main drag through town.

  A lot of things weren’t quite open yet, so we just meandered along picking out the places we wanted to go when they finally were open. There was a steampunk shop that had some clothing pieces in Raven’s aesthetic, and a metaphysical shop she got excited over. There were bookstores and antique stores that I admittedly got a little excited to check out, and a rock and gem shop that looked promising.

  We held hands and walked along at a sedate pace and looked at just about everything there was to see before going in anyplace.

  One of our first stops was the metaphysical shop and I swear Raven could have gotten lost in there for hours.

  It was a bit of a crash course in her Pagan faith which she shyly and patiently told me about, and I had to say, a lot of what she talked about made sense to me. I didn’t know if I would be converting, or signing up or whatever, but it made a hell of a lot more sense than anything else I’d encountered so far.

  From the metaphysical shop we ended up in an antique shop where she perused stacks of old artwork and books. I was passing by the jewelry counter, eyeing an old lighter in the case when the ring caught my eye.

  Gold with white gold accents, a square-cut diamond at its center. The thing had to be from the 1930s. Art deco period, there were a bunch of buildings in downtown Seattle with the same kind of facing and that’s what they called them. Art Deco.

  “Excuse me, how much for that ring?” I asked the lady behind the counter.

  “Oh, good choice!” she declared. “It’s nine-hundred-and-eighty-nine dollars,” she said pulling it from its felt and reading the tag.

  “I can give you seven-fifty cash for it right now,” I said.

  She blinked at me and said, “You know, it’s been here for years and I think I know who it’s for… sold.”

  I grinned and handed her my reserve wad of cash out of the top of my boot, glancing around to make sure Raven was otherwise engaged, hoping that if all went well, we would be by the end of this trip.

  “I hope it fits,” she murmured, handing the ring over.

  “You know what, me too,” I said and handed her the cash.

  “Mace?” Raven called, and I stuffed the ring in my pocket, deep.

  “Yeah, I’m over here!” I called back and the woman behind the counter winked at me and drifted away to count her money and put it away.

  “There you are.” Raven beamed at me.

  “You find anything?” I asked her.

  “Oh, lots of neat stuff, but nothing I want to try and carry back with us.” She laughed.

  I hooked an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple.

  “What about you?” she asked as we wandered out the front door and back into the sun.

  “Oh, I saw a thing or two. There was a really cool lighter back in that case.”

  “Oh yeah?” she asked. “Why didn’t you get it?”

  “I mean,” I shrugged, “how many lighters do I really need?”

  32

  Raven…

  We walked all over Port Townsend and ended up having lunch on the breezy back deck of a pub with a mermaid for the sign. The food was fantastic, a shrimp pizza with a white garlic sauce, artichoke hearts, spinach, mushrooms, and fresh tomatoes. All the vegetables locally sourced, real farm to table fare. The cider and beers were local and craft, too, real artisan stuff. I loved it.

  Afterward, we needed to walk off such a carb heavy lunch, and so we started our trek to the sea glass beach, an easy hike but one that required low tide to get around to where we were supposed to be at.

  We double-checked the tide tables, figured it out, and set off down easy walking trails and eventually, over rocks crusted with barnacles and around some shallow tide pools that were teeming with life.

  “Oh, would you look at that!” I covered my mouth with my hands after my excited utterance, the sea glass beach was beautiful. All white, brown, and green glass worn smooth by the sand and churning sea. Here and there it was dotted with blue glass pieces that were just brilliant.

  “I wish I’d brought something to collect some,” I pouted.

  “Psht! I got you,” Mace said and produced a tan Crown Royal bag out of his jacket pocket.

  “Oh, my God, you’re the absolute best, you know that?”

  “I try, but only for you,” he said with a grin, handing the bag over.

  We chatted, and I picked glass from the shore.

  “You know what you’re even going to do with this?” he asked me at one point, laughing.

  “Not a clue, but I bet you I’ll find something to do with it. Something good.”

  He laughed and said, “God, I love you!”

  “I love you too,” I said smiling and bent to pick up a sizeable piece of blue glass worn smooth by years of turbulent ocean, polished to a silky matte finish by the sand.

  “You ever think about the future?” he asked quietly, stooping to pick up a bit of green an
d holding it out to me. I smiled and held out the bag for him to slip it inside.

  “Sometimes,” I answered. “I don’t like to too much,” I confessed.

  “Why not?” he asked, picking up an opaque white stone and casting it aside when he realized it wasn’t glass.

  “Because I’m afraid sometimes,” I said.

  “Afraid of what?” he asked frowning.

  “Afraid that this is all some beautiful waking dream and that any moment, I’m going to wake up to the nightmare,” I said quietly.

  “Oh, baby,” he murmured and reached out, capturing my hand and towing me in against him. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me soundly.

  “It’s not a dream,” he said, looking me in the eye. “This is real. As real as it gets,” he looked me over and let me go.

  The vibe suddenly shifted, and I frowned slightly.

  “Mace?” I asked.

  He dropped to one knee in front of me.

  “I want forever with you,” he said and held up a gold ring. “I want to make you my wife and ol’ lady if you’ll let me. I want to hold you every night and wake up to you every morning. I want to make love to you as often as possible and I want to grow old with you and pinch your ass from my fuckin’ wheelchair.”

  Strong emotion, the strongest I’d ever felt, seized me. I sniffed and swallowed hard as happy tears stained my lower lashes and made the beautiful ring pinched between his forefinger and thumb blur.

  “Just say yes, that’s all you have to do.”

  I felt my mouth work, open and closed as I tried to force the word past the knot in my throat.

  “Yes!” I finally cried and he let out an explosive breath, surging to his feet.

  He practically tackled me in a hug, holding me tight, kissing me fiercely with the fire of a thousand suns.

  I looked down as he slid the beautiful ring onto my finger and marveled that it was a perfect fit.

  “Meant to fuckin’ be,” he whispered and after staring at it for several heartbeats longer, I looked up and he claimed my mouth in a kiss all over again.

  It was surreal, being and feeling so incredibly loved by a man such as Mace, and it was a sensation that I would never get tired of.

  “I can’t wait to make you Mrs. Mace,” he said with a grin and I grinned too.

  “I can’t wait to get you back to the cabin,” I murmured and plucked at his vest.

  “No time like the present,” he said. “You ready to head back?”

  “Absolutely.”

  We picked our way back across the beach slowly, choosing the best pieces of worn glass along the way.

  Back at the cabin, Mace went to the tub and started it, drawing a bath.

  “Come here, you,” he said crooking a finger at me, and I wandered over. He lifted a paper bag from the bath and book shop in Poulsbo and said, “Choose your poison.”

  I picked through the bag and several bath bombs and handmade soaps and chose one of each that complimented each other.

  “K, get naked and in the tub,” he said, and I grinned.

  “You joining me?” I asked.

  “Maybe later, I want to spoil you tonight – so let me.”

  “Ooo la la, who am I to argue that?” I asked, and he grinned.

  I stripped slowly, making a bit of a show of it and he held out a hand to help me over the high lip of the tub. I settled into the water with a contented sigh, and he dropped the bomb in. I was suddenly surrounded by fragrant foam as it whirled and twirled in the water, fizzing and bubbling away.

  I sank into the soft, fragrant heat, my hair already twisted up and secured by a pair of hair sticks. Mace took off his shirt and watching him do it was a treat. It always was. I hummed in appreciation of the view and he gave me a lascivious smile.

  He kneeled by the tub and dipped a hand in, trailing fingertips up my leg from the top of my foot, skimming along my shin and over my knee, stopping there. The way he looked at me, God and Goddess, I felt like the sexiest woman alive.

  “You really want to marry me?” I asked softly, and the smile that touched his lips – so patient and so kind.

  “All I want to do is marry you,” he murmured.

  I had always dreamed of a love like this. That I could love and be so loved, and it really did feel as if it were a dream. A beautiful waking dream that I never wanted to end.

  We kissed, and his hand crept up my leg further beneath the water.

  “Mm,” I moaned into his mouth and he took it for the plea that it was, his fingers rubbing at the top of my sex, fingers delving between the folds, seeking out that knot of pleasure. He pressed firmly but gently and made a slow, lazy circle.

  My hips rose unbidden from the bottom of the copper tub to press myself more firmly against his fingertips as his tongue delved between my lips, past my teeth, to stroke provocatively against my own.

  I groaned into his mouth, my hands coming out of the water to clasp his face between them gently, holding his mouth to mine as we kissed passionately, and he worked me into a slow burn.

  God, I wanted a deeper touch from him. He was working my clit so sweetly, and I was rising to a low simmer, but fuck I needed a deeper touch. I ached for it, and as though he read my mind, he gave it to me, sliding his fingers down between my thighs and his middle one up inside me, the pad of his thumb replacing his fingertips against my clit.

  I sucked in a breath around our kiss, my hips jerking unbidden, and I ground my pelvis down on his hand. He chuckled darkly against my mouth and pressed his finger in deeper, moving it slightly against my walls to drive me fucking wild.

  I moaned into his mouth, whimpering, begging my body as much as Mace to push me just that last little bit to the precipice. He worked me sweetly, roughly, expertly into a near frenzy and when I came, it was in an explosion of light behind my eyelids.

  I came down slowly, panting, languid in the tub, muscles loose as he stroked my pussy lightly, eventually removing his hand from it when the tremors sliding through me lessened.

  “You are the hottest little thing when you come for me like that,” he said, his voice pitched low and sexy, caressing my sense of hearing like sable soft fur.

  “Kiss me again,” I murmured, and he bent low, over the edge of the tub, to press his lips to mine.

  With love and laughter, and more than a bit of mischief, I pulled his ass in with me – jeans and all.

  He collapsed half over me laughing and tore his mouth from mine, crying out, “Okay, okay! I’ll join you!”

  I giggled lightly and let him get undressed and into the bath with me proper. It felt so fucking good lounging in the hot fragrant water wrapped in his arms.

  He massaged my shoulders, he washed me from head to toe, and I swear it was like the stains of my past came clean out of my soul under his touch and I felt like a new woman – because I was. His woman.

  “You think about seeing your friends when we get back home?” he asked a time later as we cuddled in the cooling bath. Neither one of us quite ready to get out.

  “I’m not sure they would want to see me,” I said a bit of sadness creeping in.

  “Oh, baby, I don’t think that’s true,” he said.

  “Maybe,” I hedged. “Would you go with me?”

  “Absolutely, if you want me to.”

  I nodded against his chest and he tightened his arms around me, I squeezed his fingers, interlaced with mine, the palms of his hands resting along the backs of mine.

  He felt so good. I would never get tired of this.

  “I don’t know how to do it,” I said.

  “Do what?” he asked.

  “Merge my old life with my new one. It seems like an almost impossible task.”

  “I don’t want to take you away from anything, babe. That’s not me, that’s not healthy,” he said.

  “No, I know… I don’t know, I guess I just feel like I’ve grown, I’ve changed, and that life it just doesn’t suit me anymore, but that doesn’t have to do anything with
you, or the club.” Which was true, it didn’t.

  It had everything to do with things being post Max… it wasn’t that I couldn’t go back, I just… I didn’t feel like I needed to. I didn’t know if I wanted to.

  “Nothing has to be decided right now, baby. Give it as long as you like. I’ll be there for you, whatever you decide.”

  I smiled at that and pushed back slightly, so happy it was crazy. I believed him. I believed wholeheartedly everything that he said.

  I tipped my head up and back and he smiled before claiming my lips with his once again.

  33

  Mace…

  Once out of the bath, her nude form was like a siren’s call I couldn’t resist. I gathered her up, laughing, shrieking in joy, and carried her to the bed and threw her on it. I followed her onto the sheets, and wedged my hips between her thighs, spreading her legs, my cock sliding up and down her slick, wet, pussy lips.

  “Fuck I want to be inside of you,” I growled, and she gasped as I put my lips against the sweet spot on the side of her neck and both breathed her in and tasted her, teasing the erogenous zone with my lips and tongue, nipping at her shoulder lightly to give it a slight rest before attacking it all over again.

  She twined her arms around me, her body rising and falling as she writhed beneath me – like she couldn’t get enough skin-on-skin contact and I knew the feeling. It was never enough. Sometimes, even being balls deep inside her didn’t feel like quite enough.

  She was so fucking beautiful laid out beneath me. I smoothed my hands over her stomach, up her body, over her beautiful tits, sweeping my fingertips out along her collar bones and over her shoulders, over the colorful ink under her skin and down to her hands where I locked my fingers with hers. I rode her, worshiped at the altar that was my beautiful girl on my knees, sliding my cock’s shaft up and down her velvet pussy lips, edging myself, edging her.

  I would say we were dry humping like teenagers, but fuck – there wasn’t anything dry about her hungry little pussy. It was getting harder and harder not to slip inside her by accident. When I finally penetrated her, I wanted it to be intentional. I wanted to drown in the storm-swept sea of her eyes as I sank into her slowly, inch by fucking inch until there wasn’t any going further. Until we were one fucking person, and I touched my lady soul fucking deep.