by Nina Levine
She kissed me hard, and when she pulled away, breathless, she said, “God, I’ve never had a man like you before. Please don’t ever stop.” Her wild eyes searched mine, and, fuck, she was a sight with her messy hair, swollen pink lips and an expression that screamed out how much she loved this.
My arms tightened around her, and I growled, “We can go all night, but I need to fuck you now. There’s not a chance in hell I can last another minute without being inside you.”
Without giving her time to say anything, I shifted us so she was on her back, ready for me. “Stay there, and don’t move,” I ordered.
I then left her to find a condom in my jeans, and when I had it on, I came back to her. I gripped her thighs, and pushed her legs apart. Positioning myself at her entrance, I bent to take one of her nipples into my mouth. And then I lightly bit her, and she cried out, but the way her back arched up off the bed told me she loved that.
I reached down to run my finger through her pussy to make sure she was still ready for me, and when I found what I was looking for, I thrust my dick inside her as hard and as far as I could. My palms rested on the bed on either side of her, and her legs wrapped around me, and I thrust in and out, over and over. Her cunt was tight and wet, and fucking perfect.
We watched each other while I fucked her, and I loved seeing her lose herself in the pleasure. Loved watching her completely surrender to it. Fuck, I craved that from her.
I wanted her to give herself over to me completely.
I wanted to take power over her.
I fucking wanted to own her body, even if just for tonight.
“Fuck!” I roared as I orgasmed. My body tensed as it wound its way along my spine and through my body. I dug my palms into the bed as it consumed me. And I lost myself in it enough for Sophia to take the moment and kiss me through it. Her mouth on mine felt so goddamn good that I couldn’t drag my lips from hers. I opened myself up to her and allowed her to wring every drop of whatever-the-fuck she was after from that kiss.
And when her pussy squeezed around my dick, and she came, I thought I might come all over again it felt that good. Instead, I waited for her to finish, and then I collapsed onto the bed next to her.
After I’d caught my breath, I left her to go and dispose of the condom, and then came straight back. I’d intended to have her again, but she curled into me and closed her eyes as she let out a long sigh. I lay next to her for a long time, listening to her sleep. Sophia was a quiet sleeper but every now and then a soft moan escaped her lips. Christ, this woman exuded a sexiness she wasn’t even aware of, and that turned me on so damn much.
My intention hadn’t been to stay the night, but tiredness crept over me and I closed my eyes. As sleep claimed me, I had a vague sense of arms and legs over my body, but I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes. I drifted off into a deep sleep, and for once, the nightmares didn’t claim me.
11
Sophia
I pulled my legs up onto the armchair and curled them under me. Resting the sketchpad on my lap, I finished off the drawing I’d started on Christmas night after the bike ride with Griff.
Another one of him.
The man inspired me. I hadn’t picked up my sketchpad as much in the last six months as I had this week. I’d been so consumed with a huge workload, buying and renovating my first home, and spending time with Magan, that I’d lost the urge to draw. Making art had gone by the wayside, too, and this had all concerned me somewhat because as long as I could remember, doing those two things had been like breathing to me. Creating had always been my saviour - a solace in shitty times. Over the years, as I’d grown older and started putting my pieces back together, creating had become food for my soul more than anything.
“Morning.”
Startled, I jumped and knocked the sketchpad onto the floor. Looking up, I found Griff leaning against the doorjamb with his arms folded across his chest while he watched me. He’d dressed in his jeans, but his chest was bare, and I couldn’t help but stare at his muscles for a few moments. I’d expected to find ink on his skin, and while he did have a Storm logo on his back, the rest of him was free of ink. He also didn’t have his boots on, and there was something about a man standing in front of me barefoot and shirtless – the vision made my tummy flutter.
“Shit,” I muttered. “Way to give a woman a heart attack.”
I scrambled off the chair to retrieve the sketch before he saw it. He didn’t need to know I’d now drawn him twice this week. However, he pushed off from the door and bent to pick up the pad at the same time as me. Luckily, I got to it first and scooped it up before he could.
As we both stood, the corners of his lips curled into a smile. “Been drawing again, sweetheart?” he asked, and I wanted to take the pad and smack him with it.
I closed the pad and placed it on my desk. We were in my art room and while he spent a minute looking it over, I asked, “Did you sleep well?”
His gaze came back to me. “Yes.” He seemed a little distant, as if he was thinking about something.
“Do you want some coffee?” I asked, ignoring the fact he was a little lost in his thought. At his nod, I led the way into the kitchen.
“You look like you’ve been awake for hours,” he observed as I made the coffee.
It was still only early – six thirty – but I’d been awake since four. “I suffer from insomnia so I’m always awake from around three.”
“So you draw?”
I eyed him as I poured hot water from the kettle into our mugs. “Not always. Some mornings I paint, others, I read. And there’s always movies – they get me through hours of sleeplessness.”
“Painting…as in art? Or do you paint walls at three am?”
I smiled. “Art. I really dislike painting walls. I mean, I’ll do it, and I love the result, but damn, that job requires the kind of discipline and attention I don’t have in me.”
His eyes narrowed on me. “What does that mean?”
Passing him his coffee, I explained, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kinda girl. I make shit up as I go, and love spontaneity. Painting a wall requires doing a job in a particular way and not missing any steps, you know? Steps annoy me. I don’t want steps.”
Amusement flickered in his eyes and a faint smile touched his lips. He drank some coffee and then said, “Steps are a necessary evil a lot of the time.”
I held my coffee in both hands and shook my head. “Yeah…no. I’d rather live in Sophia world – there’s no steps there,” I said with a wink.
He caught my wink and stilled. I almost expected him to shut down on me because it seemed to be his thing whenever he stilled like that, but he surprised me. “Tell me about Sophia world.”
“What do you want to know?”
“What do you do for a living?”
“Graphic design. I design business logos and branding mostly, but I’ve been doing it for about five years now, and I think I’m getting to the point where I need a change. And the company I work for are a bunch of assholes who make us work overtime with no pay, and that sucks.”
“What type of work would you prefer?”
“I would love to paint for a living, and no, I don’t mean the wall variety of painting,” I said with a smile. “God, can’t you just imagine travelling the world painting all the amazing things you see? My dream has always been to get paid to make art, but realistically, I’d still do graphic design, just for a different company.”
He watched me in a way that made me nervous – it was like his eyes were undressing my soul, trying to figure something out. I waited for him to say something but he didn’t. He drank the rest of his coffee and moved to the sink to rinse his mug out. Turning back to me, he said, “I’ve gotta get to work.”
My heart sunk a little. I didn’t know what I’d expected; I mean, he’d made it clear he was only interested in one night, but a part of me had hoped if he had his night, he’d find something that made him come back for more. I’d hoped
for more this morning, and when he’d asked me about my work, I’d gotten my hopes up.
I couldn’t fault him, though. I knew the score.
“Okay,” I said, and watched as he left me to go and get dressed.
God, he was such a complex man. Sex with him had been like no other sex I’d ever had. He’d been so bossy and intense in a way that turned me on more than I’d ever been turned on in my life, but there’d been something else there – something I wasn’t sure of. He’d told me he was close to losing control, and I wondered what that actually meant. The look in his eyes had scared me a little, but at the same time, I felt completely safe with Griff, so it was like one big contradiction.
I want to know everything about him.
I headed into my bedroom where he’d gone and found him sitting on the side of the bed putting his boots on. “Do you want to have a shower?”
He glanced at me, a strange look in his eyes. “I’m good.”
“How about breakfast? I can’t let you go to work hungry. How about I cook you some bacon and eggs? Or an omelette, or pancakes… I’ve got the ingredients for all those so it wouldn’t be a problem. You choose.” I stared at him, waiting for his reply, my belly alight with butterflies under his gaze.
He didn’t speak straight away, but rather finished putting his boots on and then stood. “You knew what this was,” he said. “And it was never going to involve breakfast.”
Disappointment speared my heart, but it was all my fault because he was right. I’d known it wouldn’t be a sex-and-breakfast night.
Shit. Why had I broken my one-night stand rule?
Because you thought you could change him.
I’d deluded myself. Griff wasn’t the kind of man a woman changed.
I took a step back. “Yeah, you’re right,” I finally said.
He watched me for a few moments and then nodded, as if he’d made up his mind about something.
And then he walked out of my house without a second glance.
And I crawled onto my bed and curled up into a ball, accepting that I’d brought this upon myself, but still letting the hurt wash through me.
* * *
Five hours later, I sat in the sun by the pool at my friend, Zara’s, house. Today was her annual Christmas pool party and it was exactly what I needed.
Sun, warmth, friends and cocktails.
“It’s a man, right?” Zara said as she passed me a margarita.
“Am I that obvious?” I took a long sip and smiled at the familiar taste. Tequila and me were old friends.
Tania, who lay on the sun lounger next to me, laughed. “Your heartbreak is bleeding all over you, babe. Spill.”
“Ugh. It’s not heartbreak – I hardly know the guy for it to be heartbreak. It’s just my stupidity making me feel like an idiot.”
Zara’s eyes widened. “You broke your one-night-stand rule, didn’t you?” She settled next to me and stared, waiting for my reply.
Nodding, I confessed, “Yeah, I did. And the stupid part of all this was that he made it crystal clear he only wanted one night, so it’s my fault that I’m disappointed.”
“You also broke rule number one in the women’s handbook, didn’t you?” Tania said.
“What rule is that?” I asked as I drank more of my drink. Besides my one-night-stand rule, I wasn’t really a rules-following kind of girl.
She sighed. “I really need to teach you more stuff. Rule number one is that you can’t change a man. He might come around, but you can’t change who he is at his core. Any change has to come from him. And remember, once a stubborn ass, always a stubborn ass. Same as, once a lying douche, always a lying douche.”
I laughed. “What’s the second rule in this handbook?”
“Men are a lot of hard fucking work. Only tread where you’re willing to put the work in.” She raised her glass at me and grinned. “You’re welcome for that information, by the way. Us girls have gotta stick together and look out for each other.” She took a huge gulp of her margarita and then added with a wink, “Let’s get drunk today; I need to get drunk so I can forget your heartbreak.”
Laughing again, I said, “You’d use any excuse for a drink, but I’m down. Let’s drink!”
“Wait,” said Zara. “At least tell us the sex was awesome. There’s gotta be one good thing from all this, right?”
My core lit up just thinking about how good the sex had been. “Best sex I’ve ever had.”
“Thank goodness for that! At least the man gave you some good memories you can call on in lonely times.” Zara winked at me as she said this. She was right – I would definitely use Griff for inspiration when I had to rely on BOB.
One of the other party guests bomb dived into the pool at that moment, distracting us from our conversation, and completely covering us in water. As Tania and Zara grumbled about being wet, I jumped up and dived into the pool. If you couldn’t beat them, join them.
“Come on!” I motioned to the girls. “It’s beautiful in the water.” The heat of the day was forgotten as I did a lap of the pool.
Zara and Tania eventually joined me, and we got a game of water volleyball going. One way or another, I would put Griff out of my mind today.
12
Griff
As I stared out at the tree in my backyard where my family’s ashes were buried, the brutal humidity clung to me, but I hardly noticed it as memories of my father filled my mind. These memories were the reason why I only allowed myself to think about him once a year. My father had been a hard man. A man with his own demons; a man who struggled with how to cope with those demons. And in the end, history repeated itself and the sins of the father became the sins of the son as he did to his children what had been done to him.
I took a deep breath.
Fuck.
I swallowed the rest of my drink and turned to go back inside and came face to face with my cousin who had been standing behind me.
“Michael.”
I scowled. It had been two years since he’d cut me out of his life, and he was the last person I wanted to see today. “What are you doing here?”
He’d aged quite noticeably since I’d last seen him. Grey peppered his hair, lines etched his face and the weight had crept on. The life of a cop was not kind to the body. I knew that from my father, too.
“It’s ten years today.”
“Your point?” I fought to remain calm as the rage built in me. I wasn’t sure if this current rage came from the ten years or the last two.
“I thought you might be one of those sentimental bastards who marked these kinds of things.” His shoulders were tense as if he were ready for an argument.
“Sentimental and me don’t go in the same sentence. You should know that by now.”
“The Michael I knew is long gone; I’m not sure of anything about you anymore.”
“You’re the one who walked and chose not to know anything about me anymore so don’t come here and give me that bullshit.”
He shook his head. “No, you’re the one who chose Storm and they’re the ones who changed you.”
Pain shot through my head as a headache began to take shape. The tightrope of control I walked threatened to snap, and I clenched and unclenched my fists in an attempt not to use them. “Storm were the only ones who accepted me for who the fuck I was, Danny. And as much as you never wanted to acknowledge it, the great and fucking almighty Rod McAllister made me into the man I am. Don’t put that shit on my club.”
He scowled. “Your father was a good man. So he believed in punishing his kids when they did something wrong…that didn’t make him a bad man.”
The ghosts of my past collided with the self-control I dedicated hours to daily. I stepped closer to him, and snarled. “Taking to a child with a belt over and over is not punishment for being naughty. Locking a child in a dark cupboard for hours isn’t either. And tying them up and ridiculing them sure as fuck isn’t written in the Good Parenting manual.” My head felt like it would e
xplode off my shoulders as I got to the family history that fucked me up more than my own experiences. “Having to watch as your father did the same to your brother, but worse because he believed your brother was a little ‘cock-loving shit’ – as my father called him – was like a living hell. My father may have been respected by his cop buddies and adored by those higher, but in my house, there was no respect and no adoration for that man. And if you think Storm has made me into who I am today, you wouldn’t be far off the mark. My brothers have shown me what it’s like to have a family who give a shit about me and they’re teaching me to give a shit again.”
My cousin was an asshole. Growing up, we’d been close and he’d had my back, but I’d figured out a couple of years ago just how much the badge can change a man. I’d seen it at the academy in my time there, and my decision to leave was the best damn decision I’d ever made in my life. Danny stood in front of me now, listening to everything I’d said, but I knew the truth still wouldn’t alter his perception of my father. And I was right. “Why did you avenge his death then? If you hated him so much, surely you would have been celebrating his murder.”
“For a smart man, you can be dumb some times. I did that for my mother and brother.” Images of their tortured bodies flooded my mind, and I sucked in a deep breath as the rage swam behind my eyes. I could have cared less that my father had been tortured – he deserved every second of pain he went through. But my mother and brother should never have been subjected to any of it.
He cocked his head. “Why did you stay in Storm once you figured out they weren’t the ones to blame? I never could wrap my head around that.”
Trying to explain my reasoning for something I even struggled to understand at the time was like trying to explain the blind faith I used to put in God. Faith is trust in action. It’s something believed in, not from proof, but from feel and a deeply held belief. I may have ended up in Storm for all the wrong reasons, but it was my faith in them that kept me there. “They cared about me.” I may have given him only four words, but those four words packed a punch. Sometimes you didn’t need a lot of words to explain yourself.
