Christmas in the City II

by Samantha Chase

  Lovers forever face to face

  My city your mountains

  Stay with me stay

  I need you to love me

  I need you to stay

  Give to me your leather

  Take from me my lace…

  I pad into our bedroom, spot her clothes scattered across the floor leading a pathway of lace to the bathroom door and begin to work my boots off. She continues to sing as I reach behind me and pull the thermal over my head. Laying my hand over the music notes on my chest I make my way to the bathroom, pausing for a second to listen to her sweet voice hum the tune of Leather and Lace.

  Gonna keep you singing all night, girl.

  I nudge the door open with my foot and steam pours out forcing me to strain my eyes to catch a glimpse of her silhouette. I step inside, quietly close the door behind me and lean against it unnoticed… just drinking her all in.

  I’m a fucking lucky man.

  She tilts her head under the stream of water and my dick that’s been hard for fucking hours, strains against the denim. I undo the button and carefully unzip my jeans, drawing them down my legs. Unwilling to waste another fucking minute I kick the jeans across the slippery tile and walk to the glass shower. Startled, she straightens up and parts her lips to speak as she stares back at me.

  I shake my head as I step inside the shower and press my finger to her lips.

  “Against the wall,” I instruct as I move closer, invading her space and she does as she’s told. Her back flush against the tile, the water streams over me, soaking my hair and drips in front of my eyes. I run my fingers through my soaked hair and push it out of my face before bracing both hands against the tile over her head.

  “I’ve been waiting all day to get you alone,” I growl, leaning my forehead against hers. “All fucking day to taste my, girl,” I add as my eyes drift down to her lips. “You’re not just my girl anymore are you?”

  “Nope,” she whispers, reaching for my hips. “You put a ring on it,” she teases. Her lips quirk as she arches off the tile and brushes against my cock.

  “If you’re not my girl then what are you?” I coax, nudging her legs apart with one of my own as I wait for her words. She takes her sweet time telling me what I want to hear and I guide my cock to the lips of her pussy, gliding between them to give her a taste of what she’s going to get.

  Pleasure and pain, girl.

  I’m going to fuck you so hard you don’t know the difference.

  “I’m the girl you’re going to marry. I’m the girl who’ll be Mrs. Petra,” she rasps as she grabs my hips and pulls me closer, grinding that tight cunt of hers against my cock.

  “You ready for that, girl?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you were born ready,” I grunt, reaching for her face as my lips slam onto hers. I kiss her with all I am, all I’ll ever be, making sure she knows I’m ready for her too. I may not have known it all along, but I was placed on this earth to be her guy.

  My tongue slides out, tracing her lips, coaxing them to part and grant me access to the sweet mouth I worship. Her taste engulfs me as we duel for power, each of us desperately seeking control as we ravage each other, affirming we’re both ready to spend our lives loving on the other.

  “This…” I say against her mouth, pulling her lower lip between my teeth. “This is what the rest of your life is gonna be like, girl,” I promise, tearing my mouth away from hers, watching her eyes flutter open and stare back at me. “Me and you tearing at one another’s clothes, kissing until our lips hurt…,” my words die as my hands glide over her tits and take hold of her hips. I drop to my knees as I spread her legs shoulder width apart and look up at her, shaking my hair away from my eyes. “Me on my knees feeding on this pussy, night after night like a starving man,” I continue before I bend my head and take my first lick of heaven.

  She runs her fingers through my wet hair, gripping the ends and arches against my tongue.

  “That’s it, girl, give it to me,” I growl brushing my stubble over her clit as she moves to a rhythm of her own, chasing her orgasm.

  Not yet, girl.

  Inserting two fingers, I lazily lap around her clit, purposely avoiding it until I suck on it. Hunched over me, she pulls my hair tighter than before and screams out.

  “There. Right. Fucking. There.”

  Curling the two fingers inside her, I suck harder as she clenches around me and continue licking and sucking on her, knowing she’s at her breaking point. Her body stills, her grip on my hair loosens and I wrap my free hand around her limp leg so she doesn’t collapse as her orgasm rips through her.

  I keep my eyes on her pretty face as I slowly withdraw my fingers from her pussy, watch her whimper from the loss and open her eyes to peer at me.

  Watch me, girl.

  I wrap my lips around my fingers, and suck them thoroughly, savoring the traces of her left behind as she moans but keeps her hooded gaze locked with mine.

  That’s it girl.

  “You good?” I ask, licking my lips as both hands circle her ankles and I hold her steady.

  “I think I’m dead,” she whispers bending her head. The pellets of water fall from her onto me and I blink them away to stare at her some more.

  So fucking pretty.

  “No, girl,” I say, slowly rising to my feet. Every move I make is a struggle to keep my fucking dick from exploding. “But I’ll take you to Heaven,” I vow, turning around to shut the water off.

  I face her again, watch as she threads her fingers through her hair and combs it back from her face. Closing the distance between us, I wrap my arms around her and cup her ass, lifting her over my shoulder and carefully step out of the shower.

  “Blackie!”

  “Not done with you,” I growl, dripping water all over as I pull open the door with my free hand and step into our bedroom.

  “We’re going to get everything wet,” she says weakly.

  “Girl, everything is already drenched including you,” I tell her as I drop her onto the bed and send all the fancy pillows she loves to the floor. She smiles up at me, wiggling against the comforter and crooks her finger at me.

  “I’m starting to think I had this whole thing wrong,” she says as I kneel between her legs and bend my head to suck on her nipple. “I thought you wouldn’t be able to keep up with me,” she explains, sighing as I roll my tongue over the peak. “But I’m not so sure I’ll ever be able to keep up with you. Just when I think you can’t make me feel anything better than I felt before, you prove me wrong.”

  My mouth leaves her tit and travels up her neck, finally hovering over her lips.

  “It’s all you girl,” I murmur, taking her face in my hands as I look into those dark eyes that own me. “And you’ve still got a whole lot more feelin’ to do.”

  “Is that a promise?” She says, splaying her diamond clad hand against my chest.

  “That’s a fact,” I tell her as I position myself between her legs. “As long as I’m breathing you’ll be feeling, girl.”

  I take her hand in mine, kiss the ring solidifying our future and brace our joined hands over her head as I pound into my lace.

  My future wife.

  Give you my leather, girl.

  Take from you your lace.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LACEY

  From the first time a little girl hears her first fairytale she dreams of finding her very own Prince Charming, someone who will whisk her away and make her forget about all the other toads she’s encountered. She dreams of the happily ever after, of her wedding and all the things that will follow. She dreams of the big white dress that will undoubtedly make her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world the moment she tries it on.

  I’ve watched enough episodes of Say Yes to The Dress, to know it’s not always the first dress you try on that’s the winner but I got to tell you—I’m losing my patience with all this. It’s
a lot of work to get in and out of these things. Sure, they’re pretty and once I find the right one I know it will all be worth it but, for the love of God I’m sweating!

  I thought I wanted a big full A-line gown but the more I try on the more I think a mermaid gown is the way to go, fitted to my body with a long traditional train. My mom and Reina aren’t much help in the decision process either. They ooh and ahh every time I step out of the dressing room. Every single dress is “the one” until the next I try on takes the prior ones place.

  I wish Blackie was here, but he kissed me goodbye two days ago, promised he’d be back and took off on his Harley to deal with club business. I bet if he was here, I’d have a dress picked out by now. I’d step out of the dressing room, look into his eyes and know. I’d just know.

  I think that’s the problem.

  I keep staring at myself in the mirror and picture Blackie seeing me for the first time in my dress. It’s silly because any dress I ultimately decide on I know he’ll look at me and I’ll feel like the most treasured thing in the whole world.

  “I think I found just what you’re looking for,” the dress lady calls from behind the curtain. Poor lady, she’s working her ass off trying to bring home the commission check.

  Sucking in an exasperated breath I watch as she hangs a dress up in the fitting room and spins me around to tighten my corset. Here we go again.

  I lift my arms over my head, step into the strapless gown and prepared to be poked and prodded but to my surprise the zipper goes up with ease. It’s not too small and isn’t cutting off my circulation. My boobs don’t feel like they’re being strangled! It’s not too big, and she doesn’t have to place a dozen clips on the back of the dress so I can get an idea of how it will look in my size.

  It fits me like a glove.

  She fits the veil to my head, topping off the look before she spins me around and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

  Oh my God.

  I stare at myself in awe and I know, I just know I’ve found my dress.

  “Well?”

  “I love it!”

  “Thank you, Jesus!” The sales lady exclaims, wiping the sweat from her brow as she pulls back the curtain and fans herself. “Shall we show the moms?”

  “Yes,” I say, lifting the flowing lace in my hands as I turn and carefully walk out of the dressing room. I watch my mother and Reina turn around and stare at me as I drop the lace and smooth down the dress.

  “Oh my God,” my mother cries. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Stunning,” Reina agrees, smiling widely. “Tell us that’s the one.”

  I grin as I spin around and stare back at my reflection.

  “It’s the one,” I whisper.

  “Wait until Blackie sees you,” my mother says.

  “Forget that, wait until Jack sees her. He’s going to lose his shit,” Reina chimes in and we all laugh because she’s right, Jack Parrish’s steel armor is going to crack when he sees his only daughter in a wedding gown. Especially, this wedding gown.

  Reina’s phone rings and interrupts her from taking the photo she was about to snap. She excuses herself as I turn to the saleslady and tell her I’m sold on the dress. She breathes a sigh of relief and ushers me back into the dressing room to help me out of the dress and into my normal clothes.

  I pull on my boots and watch as she takes care of my dress. In just a few weeks we’ve obtained a marriage license, I’ve picked the perfect place for us to marry, found a priest willing to marry a man who wears a Satan’s Knight patch on his back, and now I’ve got the dress. There are just a few more things to iron out before I become Mrs. Dominic Petra.

  I pull the zipper up on my leather boots, grab my purse and head out of the dressing room with a smile stretched wide across my face.

  Everything is falling into place.

  Immediately I spot my mother and Reina huddled in a corner, whispering back and forth—probably fighting over who is going to foot the bill for the dress. I roll my eyes and let out a little chuckle because the dress has already been taken care of.

  You see, there was a note waiting for me in the fitting room. I reach into my back pocket and pull out the folded piece of paper delivered to the boutique last week when I made my appointment.

  Girl,

  Enjoy every single second of today and know I’m thinking of you. I’m counting down the minutes until you’re mine forever. The shop has my credit card information, go on and pick out the dress of your dreams. But know it don’t matter what you wear as long as you meet me at the altar and give to me your lace.

  Blackie

  “Lacey?” Reina calls and I fold the note and slip it back into my pocket, turning around to smile back at them.

  “Blackie already took care of the dress,” I blurt.

  Reina’s eyes divert to my mother, and she reaches for my hand.

  “Honey…”

  I feel the smile fade from my lips as I look back and forth between them and notice their worrisome eyes.

  I’m used to experiencing highs and lows.

  After all, I’m bipolar—they go hand in hand with the diagnosis.

  I’m used to being on top of the world and slowly crashing.

  But I wasn’t prepared for what came next… the descent of my happily ever after.

  “Lacey, that was your father,” Reina begins as my mother wraps her arms around my shoulders. “There was an accident.”

  And just like Blackie’s motorcycle crashed on I-287…

  so did I.

  BLACKIE

  I should be dead.

  A tractor trailer carrying construction materials flipped on the interstate and the fucking load spilled out all the road. My reflexes failed me and I couldn’t sway my bike out of the way quick enough and wound up colliding with a swerving car. I went flying off my Harley—my beautiful baby is wrecked. Fucking totaled.

  I walked away from the wreck unscathed. Well, aside from the broken nose and the gash over my eye they stitched up. I look like fucking Frankenstein. I know God ain’t got no use for me up there but, I’m thinking Satan don’t even want me… I’ve got more fucking lives than a cat.

  Pulling back the curtain, Jack steps into the triage unit.

  “Thank Christ, get me the fuck out of here,” I grunt, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

  “Get back in the fucking bed,” he orders, pointing a finger at me as he narrows his eyes. “Nobody discharged your ass yet,” he adds.

  “I’m fine,” I argue.

  “How, I have no fucking idea,” he mutters. “You flew off that bike like a fucking stunt man,” he says shaking his head. “I called Reina— “I snap my neck and stare daggers at him.

  “What? Why the fuck would you do that?” I shout, moving abruptly to stand from the bed.

  “Oh gee, I don’t know Black, we were in a fucking wreck… rather she hears it from me than the fucking news.”

  “You’re a dick,” I growl, grabbing my jacket from the fucking chair. “Lacey don’t need to be hearing I was hurt, Jack. Not today, especially not today.”

  I move to walk past him but he slams his palm against my chest and blocks me.

  “You plannin’ on hiding that face of yours from her?” He pauses as he tips his chin toward me. “Then it’s better she hears you are okay before she sees the pile up on the news and thinks you're fucking dead.”

  “She’s fragile,” I seethe. “You know that shit better than anyone.”

  “Have a little faith in her, Black,” he reprimands. “She’s got a weak mind but not a weak spirit.”

  “You don’t think I know that?” I hiss, shoving his arm off of me. “I know better than you how strong she is and I don’t need you questioning my faith in her, Jack. Now, you’ve had long enough to get used to the fact she’s mine, and I’d appreciate it if you let me call the shots when it comes to my girl.”

  “Watch your step, Black,”
he growls. “Watch your fucking step.”

  “She’s mine Jack, mine, and it’s me who beats down her demons with her. It’s me that keeps that bitch of maker silent,” I say, pounding my fist against my chest. “I’m the one that’s kept her from falling apart time after time. Now, me and her—we got our way of dealing with things. I’ve got a way of dealing with her illness and it don’t include telling her things that might trigger a breakdown. You got your trigger points, Jack and so does she… they’re different. Your mind fails you for different reasons than Lacey’s does,” I stress, pointing back and forth between him and I. “And this shit, right here, this phone call, hearing something she dreads and not having the ability to see things for herself—it has the power to break her.”

  I watch as Jack’s expression becomes unreadable and to be honest I don’t give a damn to decipher his thoughts or what he’s feeling. He’s my brother but his daughter is my world and just like Lacey’s been dreading losing me, I’ve been dreading the day I lose her to her maker.

  Leaving Jack in the triage cubicle, I step outside into the busy emergency room and head straight for the nurse’s station, determined to sign myself out and get to her before she lets her mind torture her.

  “Excuse me,” I interrupt the two nurse’s fighting over which of them would go on break first.

  “Where is he??” I hear a familiar voice shriek, forcing me to turn around as Lacey comes bounding through the automatic glass doors. “Reina, get out of my way!” She hollers as Reina tries to calm her down.

  I push off the counter and hurry around the people standing in my way.

  “Lace,” I call, pulling her attention toward me.

  “Blackie?” She yelps.

  I make my way towards her and pull her into my arms and hold her with every ounce of strength I’ve got. Her sobs are muffled against my chest as I kiss the top of her head.

  “You’re okay,” she struggles to say.

  “I’m fine, girl,” I soothe. “Just a little banged up,” I assure her, as she pulls back and assesses my features, taking in my busted nose and the stitches.

  “You’re okay,” she repeats, her voice sounding detached. I take her face in my hands and stare back into her dark eyes, immediately noticing the light that’s been shining through is not just dim but has vanished completely.