by HJ Bellus
“Kiss me, Sunni. Taste how fucking sweet you are.” I grip her hips, guiding them in the rolling motion.
Didn’t think it was possible for that flush to grow hotter on her cheeks, but it does. She shakes her head side to side, with her eyes snapped shut, and her loose curls swaying.
“Don’t want to kiss me, baby girl?”
“It’s just that…” She plants her palms in the center of my chest, keeping her eyes shut. “I’ve never done any of this.”
My head relaxes back on the sofa as I examine her words, not being able to make sense of any of them.
“Are you a virgin?”
This gets her complete attention. Her eyes open, growing wide in a wild emotion. “No, I’m not. It’s just complicated.”
I move my hands to her cheeks, forcing her to center her attention on me. The fragments of fear that play out on her features haunt me. It makes me fucking sick to think someone has hurt this sweet, innocent girl.
“Talk to me, Sunni.”
“I was married to a man who was awful. We had sex, but that was it.” Tears brim in her eyes. A terrorizing vibe rolls over her skin as if she’s disgusted she opened up to me. Although it was a tiny piece of information about her past, the fact is she still did.
“Thank you.” I pull her face down to mine. “Thank you, Sunni. My birth dad had my head fucked up. Boss set me straight. It looks like we are both facing our fears.”
She remains frozen in my lap. Her soul shivers with fear and anxiety. I wait and wait for Sunni to say something. She doesn’t.
“You’re the sweetest of sweet honey, Sunni. I’ve never felt this push and pull with someone. You are mine.”
I don’t wait for her to respond before slamming my mouth to hers. She doesn’t move for long moments. It doesn’t stop me. My tongue pries her plump lips apart. Sunni reacts when her addictive taste graces her taste buds. We kiss for long moments. My cock is angry, begging to get in on the action. I ignore him and spend the rest of the night kissing the hell out of this woman who seems to have trapped and tamed the manwhore.
Chapter 8
Sunni
“What have I done?” I whisper to the cracked ceiling in my shitty apartment.
I slap my forehead, groaning out loud. Jag peeled back my layers one by one, shedding the final one last night. He brought me to life with a touch. My body still zings remembering the intricate way his fingers danced over my most sensitive part.
I told him I was married. I haven’t told a single soul that fact in four years since being on the run. Memories rush in a rapid flood…the good, the bad, the ugly. I wasn’t perfect, and neither was he. We both have our burdens of sins that rest on our chest. I had no other option but to run. My ex-husband was the king, and he played me like a well-worn puppet.
I fling the blankets off the bed and toss my legs over the edge. The freezing wood floor bites at the bottom of my feet. My head is a mess. I love it here in Washington. It took several long, grueling months to find a place I wouldn’t be noticed. I finally discovered Jerry and Jill, his wife, who run the diner. They didn’t blink an eye at my request to be paid under the table. The couple was in desperate need of help, and after I proved myself as a dedicated and hardworking employee, it cemented our relationship. They didn’t ask questions, and I kept my head down.
Last night obliterated the deal. Jag is going to push for more. Soon he’ll be expecting answers from me. It’s the natural progression of a relationship. My future disappeared the day I said “I do” to Satan in human form. The choices I made crushed my life into rubble. It’s all on me.
I walk to the bathroom, embracing the chill racing up my calves from the ice caps on the floor. It’s what I deserve to feel. The warmth and light from spending time with Jag was a short-lived vacation, and now it’s time to say goodbye to him.
I stare at the girl looking back in the mirror at me. A slight blush still covers her cheeks, and a flicker of hope lingers in her eyes. The corners of my lips tilt up at the sight of her. I tuck the memory of her deep in my heart, willing myself to never forget her. She’s just a mere glimpse of what could have been. A taunting reminder of what never will be.
Turning on the cold water, I scoop my palms full and splash my face, determined to wipe her away. The freezing temperatures of the water nip and bite at my skin, grounding and reminding me of what I have to do.
I have to tell Jag we are over before we truly ever began. My heart cries out in pain like I’ve never felt at the thought of it. There’s no other choice. It’s going to be brutal but something that has to happen. It will save him in the long run. Satan himself made sure that if I ever discovered happiness that he holds the cards to tear it to shreds. I refuse to let Jag be one of the pawns in this evil fucking game.
Warm, salty tears roll down my face as I grieve the loss that hasn’t even happened yet. Jag is out of town for the next three days. He was giddy, over-the-moon excited about an upcoming match. He’d asked for my cell phone number. I’ll never forget the shock on his face when I told him I didn’t have one. We decided on dinner after Tuesday night’s self-defense class.
I didn’t make it home until three in the morning. He opened up about everything that had him tied up in knots. His story made me fall even deeper in love with him. Yes, in love. I’m pretty damn sure I’ve been in love with the man since the second time I served him in the diner several months ago and he used a cheesy pickup line on me.
Jag’s childhood was heartbreaking, nothing a child should ever have to experience. Part of me was jealous of the fact he could talk about it. It was evident that the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders after he was forced to face his demons. That’s a luxury I’ll never have.
I glance back at the girl in the mirror, seeing the girl I know. Sasha Brown. The woman who can’t love Jag. The woman sentenced to a life in prison inside her head. She squares her shoulders, stares down the reflection, and comes to terms with saying goodbye to Jag.
***
My hand trembles against the metal on the door. I take in several deep breaths before opening it. The gym is full of action with a few fighters still scrapping in a ring and a group of women chatting, waiting for class to start. It doesn’t feel like a gym at all and more like a home.
My vision goes to the large, bold font on the wall. The vibrant teal letters pop to life off the black background. Three simple words that hold a deep meaning to living life—heart, fire, desire. I’ve seen the words on Jag’s workout bags and the back of some of his t-shirts.
A warm sensation creeps over my chest knowing Jag has an army behind him. He’ll be just fine after tonight. It’s me that I’m worried about.
“Sunni.” Layla bounces up to me, her arms wide open. “I’m so glad you made it. Jag must not have scared you off last time.”
She squeezes me in a tight hug. My arms dangle at my sides until my head catches up with me. I pat her back two times before she steps back. The most awkward hug in the history of friend hugs.
“I’ll be working Tuesdays for the next few months but wanted to come to one more class.” I tuck my hands in the pockets of my jacket in a gesture of stepping back.
“That sucks.” Layla’s shoulders sag. “That sucks, but I’m sure Jag will give you some private lessons.”
She winks at me, all too entertained with the idea of Jag and me. Before I have a chance to open my mouth to speak, Layla continues.
“I may be overstepping here, Sunni, but I have to tell you something. I have no idea how serious you and Jag are, but I do know one thing. The man hasn’t been himself for months and months, going on a damn year, until you. There’s other shit in his life, but it’s you, Sunni, bringing him back to life.” Layla passes and bends over, picking up her daughter pawing at her legs. “This past fight, he was unstoppable. Fought like the man he is. He had gone downhill fast, getting his ass kicked and then quit fighting, but if you could’ve seen him the other night, Sunni, it was just amazi
ng.”
“It’s not…” I open my mouth to speak.
Layla cuts me off. “It’s you. He wouldn’t shut up about you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the man is in love with you. Whatever it is, keep it up. I’ve missed Jag, and now we have him back.”
“Wag!” Bella throws her chubby arms up in the air, lunging out of her mom’s arms.
I follow the direction of her cheering to see Jag strutting toward us. His smile covers his face with his bright white teeth on full display. He’s sweaty and happy. Black gym shorts ride low on his hips. His t-shirt is cut into a tank top. I can’t help myself when I see what’s on his black shirt—a white rooster with the word “GOD” in capital letters below it. It takes me a few seconds to put it together. The man deserves to wear the shirt from what I could tell by groping his rooster through his pants and the way he brought my body to life.
Layla sets Bella down. She races up to Jag with her fists balled up. They go through sets of punches and kicks. Warmth coats me from head to toe watching the two. Bella has that same gleam of love shining in her eyes for Jag as I do. Jag scoops up the little girl and tosses her in the air. Her legs and arms spread out wide while her chortle of laughter echoes in the gym.
Jag settles the girl on his hip and ruffles up her hair, skewing the perfect bow to the side of her head. Layla growls next to me, shakes her head, and then stomps off.
“There’s my other favorite girl.” He takes two long strides until he’s pressed against my side. He leans down and kisses my forehead as if it was as natural as breathing.
I don’t want to face it, but Layla is dead on right. Jag is a different person. I didn’t realize it until now. He’s not the broken man who’d come into the bar late at night. The limbs and roots of the circumstances in which I’ve found myself tangle, weave, and ground me in place. The ache in my chest grows, visions of the girl in the mirror haunt me, and I know there’s no way I can break this man.
The thing about secrets is they always find a way of coming out. I’m on borrowed time with Jag. A clean break now would be the best.
Jag sets Bella down, and we watch her race over to her grandpa, Boss. The little girl has every grown man in this gym wrapped around her little finger with her larger than life personality.
I’m pulled to Jag’s sweaty body as I watch Bella and her grandpa. His forehead drops to mine. His thumb brushes at my cheek. My knees go weak, and the tempo of my heart speeds up.
“You okay, baby girl?” He runs his tongue along the outline of my lips.
I nod, unable to speak. Everything that needs to come out bottlenecks deep in my throat. The need to run or leave this man erases with his presence.
“Killed me not being able to text or call you.”
“Heard you won your fight.” I reach up, placing my hands on his chest, grounding myself.
“I did.” He kisses me quickly. “And you know the only thing I wanted afterward?”
“No.” I clutch his shirt in my fists, afraid of the answer and knowing damn well what it is.
“You. I wanted you, Sunni.” He steps us back until my back hits a wall. He presses himself into my center, letting me know how much he wants me.
The honest answer flows from my lips in quick, hasty chops. “I want you too, Jag.”
“Let’s blow this popsicle joint, yeah?” He cocks his head to the side, nibbling at my neck.
“Don’t you have to teach?” I squirm underneath him. My skin is on fire for the man I can’t have, yet I’m tumbling further and further into a sinkhole. Jag not carrying a burden in the pit of his stomach is something nobody could resist, not even Mother Teresa.
He stands up straight, smirks, and then glances down at the logo on his t-shirt. “Baby, they don’t call me the cock god for nothing.”
And before I realize what’s happening, Jag grabs my hand and we are racing out of the gym. Our laughter glides down the street as we race hand in hand. I have no idea where I’m going, and for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t matter.
Chapter 9
Jag
I hadn’t realized how far I’d fallen out of my head until this moment. I prop my cheek on my palm and study Sunni’s profile. She’s at peace, sound asleep. Her chest rises and falls with all of her features relaxed. It’s been a week. Seven amazing mornings waking up next to this girl. The night we ran out of the gym we went to my place since it was closer.
Sunni lives in an area I’ve hated since I was a kid. No one with her beauty and genuine soul deserves to live there. She shrugs it off every single time I bring it up, backing up her action with the fact the rent is cheap.
She’s not fooling me; I see the indecision on her face every step of the way. Sunni is hiding something from me, or hell, everyone in her world. I get it. We all have a past. The way she soothes my overactive mind, I don’t care if she ever opens up to me.
The temptation to sink to the bottom of the bed and lick her awake makes my balls ache. My lips turn up remembering that night we escaped the gym. Sunni’s face burned a crimson red when I told her what I was going to do to her. She’s no virgin, and we haven’t gone that far even with my balls seizing at her sight.
I lick my lips recalling all the shit we’ve done, which includes everything except shoving balls deep in her. I’ve fucking loved worshipping her body every night. And when she wrapped her full lips around my throbbing cock, I thought I’d fucking died and gone to orgasmic heaven. Nutting for the first time in her perfect mouth will go down in fucking history. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand then smacked her lips together. “That was a first and um…tasted different.”
These memories are thrusting me to the top of my game. My gym time has been spot on. Jag, also known as the Punisher, is now back and making some noise in the MMA scene. My name is back in the running. And this time nothing is going to stop me.
I lean down and kiss Sunni’s cheek and slink out of bed. She closed the bar last night after working at the diner all day. The woman has a work ethic that could put any man to shame.
The door to the bathroom squeaks as I shut it. I fire up the shower and take a piss while it warms up. My cock never gets the memo we are letting Sunni sleep in. My balls throb with the thought of a naked Sunni lying in my bed. It was extreme fucking willpower letting her be.
The water pounds down on my back. I drop my head, wrap a hand around the base of my cock, and begin stroking. Light, gentle tugs at first. My eyes snap shut, picturing Sunni’s plump tits. Fuck, they’d look perfect bouncing up and down as she rides my cock. My fist grips my dick tighter, picking the tempo up to a brutal pace.
The base of my spine tingles slowly, creeping its way up to the base of my neck. I catch the loud roar of my release biting down on my bottom lip. I pump the final streams of cum, shivering at the sensation.
Goddamn, I can’t wait to do that inside of Sunni. Bareback inside of that woman will fucking ruin me for anyone else. Shit, who am I fooling? She’s already destroyed me with her voodoo magic.
***
Sunni
The glorious scent of bacon wakes me up. I stretch my arms over my head, feeling the sheets slip down my body. The cool air of Jag’s apartment washes over my exposed breast. A heated blush creeps along my cheeks. I’m learning quickly Jag doesn’t give a fuck and pushes me to my limits. Sleeping naked is not just a suggestion in Jag’s place, but a requirement. I’m certain nothing could ever embarrass the overzealous man. Hell, he’s even given me several more cock copter shows. He’s damn proud of them. It’s the boyish grin on his face that warms my heart.
I use the restroom and toss on one of his t-shirts. It seems the man collects them since three out of the five of his dresser drawers are stuffed to the brim with them. Music blares in the kitchen. I can’t make out the song until I near the opening of the hall. Jag’s backside comes into view. My insides clench, and I grin like a fool.
He’s working in his kitchen in a pair of tight black boxers, s
inging along to the theme song to Titanic. He knows every single word and holds each note as he flips pancakes and whips eggs. I tilt my head until it relaxes on the wall next to me.
He only has protein for breakfast. I know those fluffy buttermilk pancakes are just for me, which means he had to go to the store and buy them for me. It’s the little things and his alpha male tendencies that I love the most about him.
“Enjoying the view?” He doesn’t raise his head as he speaks to me.
My arms drop to my side, and I step toward him. “Waiting for my breakfast. How did you know I was here? Don’t tell me you have spidey senses now?”
He drops the spatula and rounds the corner with his arms pointing down to his crotch. “Nope, Sunni radar. The funniest thing happens when you’re around.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”
“My dick goes straight up just like a damn antenna.”
“Weird.” I place my hands on his chest. It’s my favorite part of his big, muscular body.
“It hurts too.” He sticks out his bottom lip.
“Nice try, you big goof.” I tap the tip of his nose. “I smell bacon. End of story.”
“You’re hurting my wittle feelings.” He dives his face into the crook of my neck and sinks his teeth in, then seals it with a soothing kiss. “Bully.”
“It’s bacon, Jag.” I kiss his lips quick and sidestep him. “Nothing trumps bacon, even your sexy as sin body.”
Jag shakes his head. He’s stolen one of my hairbands and put his long hair on top in a ponytail. It looks ridiculous in a way only Jag can pull off. He finishes the depressing love song while plating my food. I help myself to a large glass of orange juice. Another item Jag only stocks for me. It’s not lost on me how I’ve felt at home the second I stepped foot in his apartment.
