Between Death (#6.5): Dark Dystopian Paranormal Romance

by Blodgett, Tamara Rose

  Seemed to be working. Caleb swore that push ups both on the floor and from a chair would sculpt me. I remembered his words.

  Terran, you're so effing lean, every striation of muscle will stand out like a rubberband. And maybe, if you keep at shit, you'll get a little bulk too.

  He'd been right. I gave myself Sundays off but worked hard on the pushups otherwise. Now instead of the caved in chest and narrow shoulder crap, I was filling out a T shirt that had been loose just half year ago. I hadn't had Tiff in mind when I did the self-improvement course.

  Not in the front of my mind, anyway.

  But when I showed up one day at Caleb's dojo, he didn't kick my ass out. He included me.

  Neither one of us spoke about the why of me showing up.

  He knew.

  I knew.

  Tiff wouldn't be unprotected again. I'd visited a parallel world to ours. There was more out there than just us. And other worlds weren't streamlined and civil like ours. Some places it could come down to surviving with what you carried, or your bare hands. I wasn't ever going to be in a situation again were I couldn't defend myself.

  I spit toothpaste into the drain and gripped the rolled porcelain of the pristine white sink, my gaze boring twin orbs of blue determination.

  Or defend Tiff.

  Never again.

  I shoved off from the sink and walked quietly through the house. No need to alert my parents that I was going to run off and have illicit sex.

  I stopped in my tracks.

  Not illicit.

  Perfect, deliberate... hot sex.

  I grinned, swiping my pulse and pocketing it inside my denims.

  I slipped out of my house in stealth. Leaving boyhood behind with a grateful sigh. I hadn't been that boy in a long time.

  Some things grow you up.

  4

  Tiff

  This would have been one of those times owning a car would have kicked ass. But I wasn't going to alert the media of my departure from the hood.

  My parents would have a cow if they knew I was meeting John.

  They loved John. Loved. Because he was so good that it was the first thing people noticed about John. His goodness.

  But he was still an eighteen year old male. My brothers were always sniffing around, hoping to get a reason to kick his ass if he did anything to me.

  I smiled. John was incapable of hurting me. Deep down, they knew that. But my two older brothers didn't know what to do with their anger from the thing that happened with Hamilton. They'd had to unnaturally stuff their urge to beat his ass. Hell, after Nightingale had counseled me in the right direction again and shame wasn't hanging on me like a monkey, I wanted to light into him too. At least I could look myself in the mirror again without cringing from shame and fear. I no longer had panic attacks.

  Life was good, though unfinished.

  There were some loose ends I wanted tied.

  John Terran was one. More than a loose end. So much more.

  I hit the kickstand on my bike and leaned it against the Kent Refuse gate. The old cyclone fence still stood proud and hard to climb. I sighed.

  I could climb it.

  I smiled. I was really growing up. That girl part of me vying for dominance more all the time. Even a year ago, I would have scaled this.

  Now I wait for John instead. He'll figure out the lock and... I look at the hideaway. Actually, its really dim because night is almost here, but I know where it's at. I can vaguely make out the pink fridge sitting sentinel with its shouty pastel color like a spoiled Easter egg. I smirk.

  Good times. About to be better.

  I hear tires crunching on gravel and automatically meld into the shadows.

  It's John.

  I step out and his headlights cut a swath of LED light across me that bisects my torso. I lift my hand for a wave but he's already pulsed off his engine.

  The ticking of the cooling engine is the only sound as the night encroaches.

  He sits in his car and I stand there.

  Self-consciousness is a sick tide that rises from my stomach to the confines of a throat tightened with anxiety.

  Come on, Tiff—get a grip.

  His door swings open and John steps out.

  He's wearing that dumb T I love that proclaims his Nullness. I smile, noticing how much more he fills it out.

  Where's skinny Terran?

  Nowhere to be found.

  John is lean, clear muscles cutting a path from forearm to the bit of bicep that peeks out from underneath his shirt sleeve. He moves toward me, no longer possessing the gracelessness of a teenage boy, but moving toward what he'll be as a man.

  John comes to stand in front of me and my eyes take him in. His hair glows softly from the streetlamp half a block away, the strong planes of his chest stretch his T to bursting. It's tucked into his jeans at a narrow waist.

  Large hands take hold of mine, swallowing my smaller ones.

  When did Terran become a man? I wasn't looking hard enough and then it just happened.

  “John,” I croak, clearing my throat. “John.”

  “We don't have to, Tiff.”

  My head jerks up and I realize I'd been looking at my feet. I suck in harsh inhale, stealing myself.

  “Yeah, we do.”

  John drops my hands. I watch his heartbeat hammer at the base of his throat and gulp back another does of anxiety.

  “I don't want this because of what went down with Hamilton tonight. You have to want this for us. An independent thing.”

  I lower my eyes again. I've been wanting it for a few months. I know John can take the aftertaste of the only sex I've ever had away. He can cover it with him.

  His goodness.

  I want that. I need it.

  I flick my eyes to his. He needs it too.

  “I want this,” I say.

  John just stares.

  “I want you,” I whisper.

  He plows his fingers through his short hair. “I do too—God, you have no idea how much. Zero clue.” His eyes unerringly find mine in the thickening dusk. “But not at the expense of what we have.”

  “What do we have?” I ask.

  John smiles suddenly, his face filled with certainty and confidence where not so much had been a moment before. “We have permanency, Tiff.”

  I don't ask more. I'm afraid. I don't want to be pity sex, I don't want John to be with me to help me heal then push me away when he thinks he's done his stint to get me over the assault hump. No.

  He searches my face then shakes his head. “No. Don't even think that.” He cups my face and I step into the shadow of him, the light from the streetlamp completely swallowed by his body.

  I dip my head into his large palm that covers the side of my face. “Can't help it.”

  “Do. Do help it. I'm not going anywhere Tiff. I never was. I've loved you for years. Way before Hamilton did what he did.”

  A tear breaks free from my eyeball and John's thumb sweeps it away. He puts his forehead against mine, a big stretch when he's a foot taller, but he manages it. “It's always been you and me, Tiff. It always will be.”

  I don't cry more. I've cried enough for a lifetime. But sometimes joy leaks out and you can't stop it.

  The beauty of it is John knows the difference.

  I hold my tears and he sees my struggle, knowing the tears I won't shed are tears of happiness.

  He smiles.

  And I give him a tremulous one back.

  We lace our fingers together and walk toward the gate.

  5

  John

  Thank god that the guys and I had gotten the hideaway whipped into shape. I'd even brought one of my own blankets. Call me a germaphobe.

  Now I was going to swap a hell of a lot more than germs.

  Tiff stands before me and off the hoodie goes.

  Her wardrobe isn't the hot little skirt and see-through ensemble of earlier tonight but this is more Tiff. And she's just as sexy.

  I've only
just brushed her breasts. Now I adore them with my eyes. She kicks a black T shirt and a colorful hoodie away, standing before me in a all lace black bra and jeans.

  Gorgeous.

  I can feel my dick rise to the occasion and heat spears my skin. If we had good lighting in here, she'd know how embarrassed I was.

  It's part of being a guy.

  I want Tiff. Every part of me, and there's a really obvious part that's especially into it.

  She doesn't laugh at my tenting pants, the denim strangling me. She walks over and with what seems like perfect precision, she unsnaps my denims. My erections springs out in relief and I stand there, more naked from my obvious arousal than if I had no clothes on.

  It's trust, anticipation and a pulse rate that's the fastest I think I've ever experienced, that propel me to touch her shoulders. Her skin's like silk.

  I've touched her bare skin a thousand times.

  But never when the promise of what we're going to do was this real. This sure.

  I press her against me and her arms slide underneath my shirt and my hardness presses agains her bare stomach. I groan from the contact.

  “Tiff...” I begin.

  “Shh,” she says, “I got you.”

  Then she's pulling away, her hand on the hardest part of me and she wraps me with her fingers. My body is a traitor and lurches forward, my hips popping right into her firm grasp.

  She does laugh then. But she's not laughing at me. Tiff's eyes are dark, half-hooded and she gives a a smile that clearly says green light.

  I loosen up, forcing myself to chill. This is Tiff. Nothing can go wrong if she's in the lead. I'd envisioned us with me being in charge.

  Nope.

  She strokes her hand up and down me and my breath catches, heat surging up my dick. I pull back. “I think I'll go.”

  Tiff smirks. “We can't have that.”

  She pulls my boxer briefs down over my hips and springs me loose. “Oh god,” I say, my hand going to her hair.

  She squats and in the same motion her tongue comes out and licks the head of me and I have to pull away. “Tiff—I can't make it with you doing that.”

  She nods. “You know, Terran. I thought you'd be enthusiastic.”

  She has no idea. “You could say that.”

  I smile but Tiff squeezes me again and I about go in her hand. I grip her shoulders. “I want to be in you the first time.”

  Tiff shakes her head. “No, I...” She blushes. I can see it even in the dim light cast from the lantern. “I read up on it. We get the edge of now and then you can last a little longer.”

  My eyebrows go to my hairline. “Wow, really?”

  Of course I knew that but to have my girlfriend figure that out... plan. “You've been thinking about this.”

  Tiff nods.

  “Just let me help you then we can...”

  I take a deep breath. Hold it. Let it out. “Okay.”

  We hold each other's gaze for a beat of seconds and then her hot mouth is on me again. She wraps her lips from my head and in a slow slide she takes half my dick in her mouth.

  “Oh god!” I half-yell into the confines of the hideaway. The words are consumed by the weird acoustics of the place and Tiff cups my nuts, giving them a gentle squeeze while she goes down on me. Tiff slides up, her tongue a hot line up the underside of me and my head tips back. I can't help it, I rock gently into her mouth and feel myself pick up the pace.

  “Tiff, stop—I'm going to come.”

  She lifts her lips and looks into my eyes. “So come.”

  Then she's on me again and any idea of maybe sparing her my load goes out the door. I feel it build like liquid heat in my nuts and like a bolt of lightning striking a rod, it spills out of me and Tiff is there, holding her mouth over my dick and taking everything as I groan and shudder under her hands. My palms slap the walls of the hideaway as I throb inside her mouth.

  When every bit of me has released she takes her swollen lips of my dick and licks some of what escaped from her lips.

  “Better?” she asks.

  I nod.

  Tears sting my eyes. If I hadn't loved her before, I was lost now. For a girl to have gone through what Tiff did... and give herself to me like that. In that way?

  “Come here,” I say.

  She stands, moving into my arms.

  I know she'd wanted to cry earlier. But I also knew she'd been happy. So happy she could cry about it.

  Now my tears dampen her hair.

  6

  Tiff

  I can't believe I had the guts for that. I guess whatever I blew off in school wasn't half as entertaining as researching blow jobs and the stamina of an eighteen-year-old guy.

  Not much, I had quickly found out.

  But it's John. Not some nameless guy. And I knew, with it being both of our first times, he'd never last. Then it would be... abbreviated.

  I can feel his heart press its beats against my face. I've won a small triumph in my life. I gave John pleasure, nothing was taken from me. I'm empowered. Like Nightingale told me I'd be. She had said that any time I took the sexual reins, I'd be in charge, triggers wouldn't bounce up and wreck stuff.

  So true.

  I pull away from John with a contented sigh and try to lead him to the oversized cot with a blanket covering it. A blanket I've seen in the Terran household before.

  He stumbles and I see his feet our wrapped inside his pants. I toe his pants to the ground and he steps out of him. I chance a glance at his penis and it bobs as he walks along with me. Already semi-erect. Good gravy.

  I smile. It fades when I think about all that inside all of me. I stop myself from tensing but it's an effort.

  It's John, I remind myself again.

  My shoulders relax and I turn, seating myself on the cot.

  John climbs in beside me, draping half the blanket over the top of us as we lay down together. It's been a hot June and the temperature inside the hideaway is about right.

  But we're both pretty hot.

  And I'm nervous. I think going down on him released some of the tension but the biggie still lies between us.

  John's hand creeps to my breast and squeezes it, his entire palm covering it. “You're beautiful, Tiff.”

  I don't say anything, my mouth is a desert. I give a nervous smile.

  He takes his time, gently exploring every bit of me. When he strips my panties away I get a panic clawing inside me. Scooping me out.

  Tight breaths come and John grasps my chin. “I won't do anything you don't want.”

  I nod too quickly.

  I want this. But I'm scared.

  “I know you're scared,” he guesses easily, “But remember, he never got this far. It's me, Tiff.”

  I allow my legs open and when this finger breaches my entrance I'm so tight with tension I shake. Then he dips inside me and there's no pain.

  My eyes pop open. “John.”

  His finger stops.

  “I love it,” I say and his smile nearly breaks his face.

  Mine matches. “Good.” He says and he slowly pumps inside me, barely brushing my barrier. Soon I'm wet from the gentle penetration and John knows.

  He stops and gives me a look.

  I need to give him permission.

  “Yes,” I say and my voice sounds breathy. Needy.

  I hate it but it's also right.

  John hovers above me, his elbows stabbing the cot on either side of my head. I feel wonderfully trapped.

  Not by fear.

  By the love I see from him.

  When the first bit of him enters me I tense.

  “Relax, Tiff.”

  I nod and say, “I don't think slow is great for this.”

  He inches deeper, the tip of him already against the proof of my virginity.

  “Band-aid style.”

  I nod. “Just rip through, John.”

  He shakes his head. “No,” he palms the side of my head. “I'll push through but I'm not going to hurt you
worse. Never you,” he says and then he rocks deeply inside me.

  I feel as though I'm on fire and gasp but John remains smooth, penetrating all the way. I feel him embedded fully and let out the breath I was holding.

  “Hurts,” I breathe out.

  “Yes,” he says and pulls out, only to push inside me deeply again. I'm wet from his attention but tight from anxiety and my first time.

  I let my legs spread wider and John swims more securely between them. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck and he rocks gently in and out of me. “Oh Tiff... you feel so good.”

  He does too.

  The burning and pain begin to subside, and his pace picks up. I'm so glad we took the edge off.

  My hips begin to meet his and he rises away from my body on his knees and enters me like that. Our eyes meet and it's so intimate I almost can't stand it. His finger finds my clit. A spiral of pleasure begins and a low moan of gratitude escapes me.

  “That okay?” he asks.

  “Oh hell yes,” I say and John grins, still moving in a slow pump. My channel grabs at his penis when he withdraws and pushes back inside but his finger is doing magical things to me and a deep shift starts to build inside my lower belly. Suddenly it feels as though the biggest itch is about to be scratched and then a wave of pleasure surrounds me and narrows down around his penis in a hot throb.

  “Ah!” John says softly, his head tipping back, mouth slack. “You're coming...”

  “Yeah... oh my god.... ah..” My pussy is pulsing around him and then John leans forward, jerking my hips tight against him with a final deep thrust and then he's releasing inside me and I throw my arms back, forgetting my nervousness, being naked in front of a guy.

  And best of all, I don't think about Hamilton once.

  Only John.

  7