Holding On

by A. C. Bextor

  “Sade, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to....”

  I’m interrupted by her fury, I’ve earned it. I deserve it. The look on her face tells me she’s not going to hold back either.

  “Who. The. Fuck. Are. You? I don’t even know you anymore. You have zero right to tell me how to run MY LIFE when you only run from your own! You are a blind woman. Seriously fucking lost. Let’s see, or let’s NOT see in your case, but I will help spell this shit out for you. Hem is pissed at you, Shame doesn’t even acknowledge your existence anymore, Greyson calls you a whore but yet rather than dump his sorry uptight ass, and you just want “space”. Are you fucking kidding me that you think with all your shit you have time to meddle in mine? News flash, friend... being a raving bitch to those you love is NOT A GOOD COLOR ON YOU!”

  She spins and walks away but not before I lose my footing and sit on the hood of her car. She’s right. I know she’s right but all I have done is to keep those that I love happy and protected and in doing so I’ve left my heart without guard and its breaking. I’m so busy protecting those I care about, who is protecting me?

  I still need to talk to Hem. My pity party for one has to wait. I came here with a purpose and although side tracked, I need to talk to Hem. Adding another name to those that I love and that are angry at me only brings me more resolve. I need my glue. Talking to no one, I sigh. “Please let him be sober and willing to listen to me, please.”

  Walking through the door I am immediately assaulted by the familiar scent of smoke and sex. I chuckle out loud to myself wondering what Greyson would think of this scene. Although I’ve been around this life since I was eight or so, I still need to take pause to gather myself before looking for Hem.

  I don’t see him anywhere yet. I do however find Ace. He’s standing behind the bar serving himself a line of shots. “I didn’t peg you as a guy who sulks, Ace”.

  “Fuck you, Princess” he hisses sarcastically at me knowing full well that the nickname pisses me off and he says it while he downs another shot of whiskey. He doesn’t even let go of the bottle before pouring another.

  “Well, I did you a favor ya know. You would have fucked her and broken her and then Hem would have beat your ass or put you in the ground. You should be thanking me you Jackass, but just carry on with the drink, yeah? It suits you.”

  I say no more, just walk away leaving him with his anger and regret.

  Leaving Ace to wallow in his sty, and it is not lost on me that I compare him to the pig he is, I walk into the main common room. Vast arrays of flesh, drugs, and smoke come into view. Gross.

  The men I get, no decency. The life they lead is that of danger and at times whether I want to acknowledge it or not, crime. I’m not blind to the fact that most of them do not know any different. They live here; this is where they call home. They are comfortable and are thankful to Hem and the Club that they have a place that they can consider collectively theirs.

  The women on the other hand, no. Unless you are an old lady, finance, girlfriend, or relative, you are treated like trash. These women, they know this and yet come to this club every week to be used, humiliated, and left either alone or unsatisfied. I cannot fathom what their lives are like the other six days of the week if it’s this they look forward to every weekend. I will do everything in my own power to not allow Sadey, my sweet Sadey, to become a member of that population, even if she hates me for it. Not that I think Hem would allow that anyway, but being that he’s not thinking clearly at the moment, it falls on me to ensure her future safely. Life would be so much easier if we would all just get our shit together.

  I haven’t found Hem. I don’t know where to look other than his room, but when a party is in play its common knowledge that the warden be around to correct the inmates if something gets out of hand, generally it’s Hem who does this. I look for Sadey, nothing. At least I know she’s not with Ace. Thank hell for that.

  Shaking my head I start towards the stairs. I’m going first to check to see if Hem is okay. Not only have I not talked to him, I haven’t seen or heard from him or about him in three days. This strikes odd and renews my goal of getting my brother back, glue and all.

  Rounding the last turn towards the hallway of rooms, that resemble a hotel floor, I see a door ajar. I know this room, I’ve spent time in this room enough to know that if his door is open on a night like this it means it is also considered an invitation.

  Shame likes women, hasn’t ever been a secret. Also no secret is that he appreciates several at once or in a sequence of nameless faces one after the other after another.

  Holding in my gag reflex, I pry the door open in pretense of looking for Hem, asking Shame where Hem is at. Generally Shame keeps tabs on Hem because under stress Hem has a tendency to overdrink, overthink, and then overreact. This is never a great combination. Rarely does my brother really stop and think things through when he’s on a tirade. Yet I know that I’m lying to myself a little bit about just being here for Hem, but to be honest the thought of Shame with other women right now makes me sick. He said I was his, but he never said he was mine. I still feel that green eyed jealous monster rearing her head as I edge the door open so I can get a full view of Shame and Kegs. Of course he has to be with the biggest whore of them all.

  She’s standing above him and is in between his knees as he sits on the edge of his bed. His face is buried in her chest. All I can see from her back are his hands on her bare ass kneading it on either side of that string thong. Her head is flipped back looking at the ceiling as her bleach blond hair cascades down her back. She moans as if he’s already giving it to her good. She looks as though she is acting, probably so. She and Ace would make a good couple, oh never mind, I actually like Ace more than her and wouldn’t even wish her on him. She needs to go away, for good. To be flushed with the rest of the shit.

  Before I attempt my escape I hear a pop, yuck. I know this is his mouth coming off her chest so I make a quick attempt to turn around and flee. I’m stopped immediately by the voice of anger before I can make it down the hall and far enough away to really make a run for it.

  “MACE!”

  He shouts loud enough to create an audience of those lingering in the halls. His voice is so loud and booming that couples actually come out of embrace to see what the wall of Shame is about to do to me.

  I keep going though. Then I’m stopped by his strong arm that grips my shoulder to turn me around. My eyes are closed. I’m trying not to open them, I’m lost in another time when he was beautiful, and loved me, and when he said I was his.

  I can’t be someone else’s when just a few days ago I was meant to marry Grey. This doesn’t stop me from thinking about Shame and how he makes me feel when it is just us. We have a special way when we are cushioned in our own world and away from the exterior bullshit also known as reality.

  I open my eyes finding that Shame has now absolutely buried his gaze into me. It is as if the man can look at me and see me in so many different mirrors at once, a baby, a child, a teenager, and a grown woman. Knowing someone your whole life creates this kind of bond. I don’t really know what the hell I’m doing but my hand darts to his bottom lip, reaching to feel the piercing. All these years I’ve studied it, but never had the nerve to just touch him like this. It feels so intimate.

  Before I can even pull my hand back, he grabs it and now he’s dragging me back to his room, yanking me by the wrist. I’m not even questioning this and knowing that skank is in there I certainly should be questioning everything right now! The protective bubble he creates for me though has me moving in there as quickly as he is. I want to feel safe with him right now; when the entire world is crumbling around me it is him that I’m really searching for.

  “Out Kegs, now.” He doesn’t miss a beat as she huffs and takes a few seconds to look me up and down like I’m the one that shouldn’t be here. Bitch. He moves me by my shoulders towards a corner of his room.

  “I said OUT KEGS, you can go on your own feet or I can pic
k you up and toss you out on your ass!”

  “Oh you have got to be kidding me right now, Shame! She’s nothing. Look at her. Plain, simple, delicate. She doesn’t fuck, Shame. Hell I doubt she’s ever been laid, who would fuck her?” She’s sneering at me. Bitch!

  Slap!

  Oh shit. Shame just backhanded her and his fury is still coming from every pore in his body. She stands there, tears welling in her eyes. She is grabbing her stuff while she is calling him every name imaginable.

  His eyes do not leave mine and I am finding it difficult to not look away at his shirtless, shoeless, jeans unbuttoned, gorgeous body. I almost want him to slap her again to get her out sooner; I just start to walk away so I can keep his eyes off of me. I need to regroup and think for a second.

  Finally she leaves, not without slamming the door. Well point made, she’s mad. Poor girl. Psh!

  “What are you doing up here, Mace? The party is downstairs.” His voice is soft and patient, I recognize this Shame, and I love this part of him.

  “Well, you should say that the other party is downstairs, appeared to me that your party was in here.” I say sweetly gesturing around the room and to the bed.

  I’m standing near the wall and he’s standing beside his bed. Only about three foot of space separate us and since slut slammed the door completely for added props on her way out, the room feels much smaller than it ever has.

  “Is that why you came up here? For an invite? You never have to ask to be invited into my bed, Sweetheart.” He’s walking toward me, like a panther circling its prey.

  Shit.

  “No, I was looking for Hem. I saw your door was open and thought maybe you knew where he was.” My voice is small. I feel slight standing next to this tattooed, black haired, pierced, beautiful Adonis.

  “You’re turned on, Mace. Tell me what you want.”

  “Why do you say things like that to me? Do you like me to be embarrassed? I mean, I just walked in here and you had her boob in your mouth!” I look down to avoid that predatory gaze that will have me surrendering to him without regard of what becomes of us after.

  “Look at me, Sweetheart.” I can’t. If I look at him, he will see through me again.

  “Now. Right now. Look at me! I’m tired of waiting for you, Mace. Dammit woman you are frustrating the shit of out me.”

  My insides are stewing now. Butterflies have invaded my lower belly. I only feel this way with Shame and for so long I just thought it was because of some crazy crush. This isn’t a crush; this is something that is so much more.

  I finally gather the courage to just glance up quickly. Seeing his face looking back at me, I recognize this moment. He has such intensity about him as he is standing in front of me. This is what I have thought about for years. I used to sit in my high school classes and think about this moment. I would imagine what his skin would feel like as I ran my hands down his chest and back. I used to wonder if he would smell of Shame while he was making love to me, passionately. What words would he whisper to me as we were wrapped in each other’s bodies, souls touching and coming together?

  This is not what I should be thinking about though. What I should be thinking is how to get out of this room so that I don’t clog up an already messed up life with additional drama, but this is Shame.

  “Be with me.” I just blurted it, putting it out for him. I’m silently begging him to know what to do with this.

  In this moment I want to capture every single hope and dream I ever had about Shame and I. He may hurt me and I may be broken tomorrow. I know this is possible, but tonight I’m willing to take that risk so that every day going forward it isn’t a daydream to just think about, it is the memory of Shame.

  He doesn’t need any further invitation then what I just offered in those three words. Grabbing my neck with one hand and pulling my waist into him, Shame devours my mouth with such intensity I feel like I am actually daydreaming again. I feel his hands leave my body and in an instant the hem of my shirt is yanked up and in my spirit of obey I lift my hands over my head and he only breaks our kiss long enough to remove it. The smell of him once again invades me. I can only see, smell, and feel Shame in this moment and this time, heart be damned, I won’t let him go.

  Chapter Six:

  “God knows I didn't mean to fall in love with her”

  --Ernest Hemingway

  “Tell me yes, Mace. I need to hear you say it. Tell me you want this and I will give you what you want, what we want. You have to tell me though, or I’m walking away because this changes us, it changes everything.”

  Shame’s voice is strained and I can feel he is trying to maintain some control. I don’t want to keep him waiting or make him feel as though this isn’t what I want. I am confused this is true, but not about this. I’ve never been confused for my feelings for Shame and right here and now, I know that this is where I am really meant to be.

  “Make me yours, Shame. Really, make me yours. Do not hold back, don’t second guess it, and just be with me now. Please. I’m here with you because I want to be here. Do not go gentle because you are afraid to break me. Just take me with you and let me get lost in this.”

  I hear and feel the growl as it comes out of Shame and knowing that what I just said has undone him gives me quivers in all the right places.

  “Fuck, I want to be inside you, Mace. Say it again, tell me you want me. I want to hear it from you again and again. Tell me what you want me to do to you, baby.”

  He’s deliberate in his words but he’s unmoving with his body. I inch closer to him, he’s trying hold that guard up, the one he always holds when the intimacy of another person gets to be too much. He’s never been good with real emotions and Club whores don’t demand that, but I do. So I’ve decided that if I’m giving myself to Shame tonight for the first time in our lives, knowing it will most likely be the last, then I want every part of him in this. Body, mind, heart, and soul. I’m taking it all, later my memory of this night will ask for it.

  “Shame, fuck me. I want you, this, us. For whatever it is, I want this now. No regrets. Touch me, make me feel loved, safe and protected. I need you to do that.”

  I can hear the pleading in my voice and I sense his desire for me and as I look down to avoid his silver blue eyes again I can see the evidence of my words. I love this feeling I have over him, even if just for tonight.

  He no longer hesitates. He picks me up around the waist and I wrap my legs around him. One hand is on my ass and the other hand has a firm grip on my back, holding me to him as if I were going to slip away.

  Staring into his eyes I see his gentleness. He’s looking into my mirrors again and the only one he can recognize right in front of him is the woman who loves him. The baby, the child, the teenager, and the woman have all become one now and he sees me for who I am. I’m all those things, through the progression of our lives together. It took us so long to get here together. I feel complete for the first time, and God it’s the truest feeling I have ever felt.

  He rolls his forehead to mine, my back is now against the door and he still has me wrapped around his waist.

  “God baby, I love your face.” My heart swells at that sentiment. It’s again his way of communicating how he feels about me, he doesn’t say those words I want to hear but that’s alright. The words he says belong to Shame and I.

  I must have looked away during my thread of thought because I hear him bark at me. “No Mace, look at me. Eyes on me and do not look away. I want to watch you, to see your face beautiful girl, as I feel you from the inside for the first time. You are so beautiful. You overwhelm me.”

  He puts me down and while my feet hit the floor he is raising both my hands over my head, effectively pinning in place while one hand reaches in front of my chest to unhook my bra and the other continuing to hold my hands up over my head.

  His touch is rough, but not meant to be. He’s as eager for this as I am. My bra comes loose and my full breasts that are aching to be touched fall against
his chest. He gives another feral growl before freeing my hands. Watching him, I don’t even realize I’m just standing there. My arms dropped to my sides. I’m so caught up in him I don’t register what I’m supposed to do next.

  Removing my bra, he reaches for the buttons on my jeans, smartly unbuttoning and dragging them down by thighs. He stops, just below my belly button as if something has bitten him and takes in a deep breath. Oh my.

  “Jesus Christ, I can even smell you, woman. You are all ready for me aren’t you, baby? “All I can do is nod. “Answer me.” he snaps. “Words, Mace let me hear that beautiful voice.”

  “Y-Yes I’m ready.”

  Quickly unzipping his jeans, the buttons already undone and then lowering them just enough, I see the head of his cock and Oh My Dear God. I pause. It is not just the size that has scared the living shit out of me and momentarily put a hold on my erotic thoughts, oh no, it is the Goddamn piercing.

  Double Dammit.

  I hear him give me a soft chuckle against my neck while walking me backwards towards his bed carefully pulling me along, I can sense him wondering if I’m going to bolt. I won’t of course, but we need to address this and like right now.

  “Baby, it won’t hurt. It will just enhance your pleasure.”

  Right, are you kidding me right now? But before I’m able to change my mind and run, his body has blanketed mine on the bed. I can feel him, every delicious inch of him is now between my legs, he’s rubbing himself on my thigh with his cock and I can feel the metal against me.

  Jesus.

  Usually during a couple’s first time, there’s always that pregnant pause where one or the other may carry a second thought or feel a bit embarrassed or shy. Maybe they ask for the lights off or a second to freshen up, things like that. Human nature, the need to please in exchange for love. But not now, Shame and I have been together in my mind so many times that I feel as though this isn’t really our first time.

  “Are you on the pill, Sweetheart?” Ok, thanks for the reality check.