ARROGANT BASTARD

by Winter Renshaw

  “Yeah, see you at home.” I step back, watching him pull away.

  ***

  Dad wasn’t at breakfast that morning since he went into work early, thank goodness, but he never misses dinner. Bellamy’s words echo in my head as we gather that evening. I still can’t bring myself to look my father in his eyes, partially because of his threat to marry me off, but mostly because I fear he’ll see it all over my face. He’ll see I’m no longer his chaste and true daughter, and then all chances I had to redeem myself as worthy of attending college will be rendered null and void.

  It was for that reason I spent most of last weekend keeping busy with household duties. Every plant got watered. Every trash was emptied. Every weed was pulled. If my father saw me handling responsibilities and keeping busy, he wouldn’t have been able to suspect I’d just handed Jensen my virginity Friday night like it was nothing.

  Jensen asks for the salt as soon as sides have been passed around. I hand it to him without saying a word, keeping my eyes averted. I don’t want to interact with him too much, not around my father.

  “So, Bellamy tells us she’ll be traveling for work now,” Mom announces in such a way that I don’t think she’s pleased about it.

  Bellamy lifts her water and takes a sip. “I’m getting a promotion.”

  No one congratulates her. Those kinds of things aren’t celebrated in a home where women aren’t praised for having careers.

  “I, too, will be doing a bit more traveling,” Dad interjects. “I’ll be on AUB business, meeting with various councilors and members of the ward.”

  “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time lately on priesthood business,” Summer muses.

  “I’m righting the ship.” I feel my father’s gaze upon me, weighing me down with unspoken connotations. “A season of change is upon us. It’s time to forge strong ties with the brethren so we can continue building our kingdom. There are certain resources that come along with fostering good relations with our local wards and councils. It’s a give and take relationship, one built on trust and values, one that requires sacrifice.”

  When he speaks that way, I know he’s been spending more time with Bruce Waterman and other council members. Heat and ice flood my veins, and my heart thuds with slow, heavy beats.

  Kath listens intently as she cuts up the twins’ pot roast. She doesn’t question the cryptic-tone of his words. Neither does Summer.

  “Care to elaborate?” Mom asks. It’s rare that one of the wives questions my father, but if anyone’s going to do it, it’s my mother.

  “When the time is right, I’ll make my announcement.” He saws into his meat and forks a hunk into his mouth. If he’s trying to put the fear of God into me once again, it’s working.

  We haven’t exchanged many words since our little altercation last week, but I’m bent on convincing him he was wrong about me. As much as I resent him right now, he’s still my ticket to college. I can’t get student loans to cover room and board without my parents filing a FAFSA, and he won’t do it if he doesn’t want me attending school.

  “Sounds like a load of shit to me,” Jensen mutters under his breath, loud enough so only I can hear him.

  I can’t eat. My appetite vanishes just like that. I force a few more bites down, just enough to ensure no one notices anything’s wrong, and then I excuse myself to begin kitchen clean up.

  When my father retreats to his den after dinner and the kids scamper off to the family room, my mothers join me in the kitchen.

  “You don’t think he’s talking about taking on a fourth wife, do you?” Kath asks Mom and Summer, keeping her voice low. “He wouldn’t do that without telling us, right?”

  Summer grabs a dishrag. “Let’s put it this way: we didn’t know about you until the day before we met you, so…”

  “Yeah, but that was a little different.” Kath blushes. I’ve always liked her, but I know she’s struggled with feeling accepted by Summer, who wasn’t too keen on being displaced out of the blue. She and Dad had been struggling to have a fourth child and nothing was working, and then Kath shows up, marries into the family, and pops out a set of twins her first try.

  “Now, now, ladies.” Mom fills the sink with hot, soapy water, and I hand her a dirty casserole dish. “I’m sure Mark would consult with us this time, especially since there are logistical issues. The houses on either sides of us aren’t up for sale. Where would a fourth wife live? And can we afford a fourth wife?”

  “Knowing Mark, he’s got everything figured out,” Kath says. “He’s a planner, our dear husband.”

  They continue gabbing, speculating about the odds of Dad adding another wife, when all I really want to do is tell them they’re wasting their time. He was talking about me, his cryptic words all code for planning to marry me off.

  I can’t stand another minute, and I need to get out of the hen house before I go insane. “I’ve got some homework to finish. Mind if I head up to my room for the night?”

  “Go right on ahead,” Mom says. “We’re about done here.”

  I check the calendar on my way out of the kitchen, the one that tells us where Dad is sleeping that night. Tonight is circled in green, which means he’ll be at Summer’s. Which is a relief, because I could use a talk with Jensen tonight.

  I bide my time in my room until well past nine, when I know Mom and Bellamy have retired to their rooms for the night, then I slip into Jensen’s room. I don’t even knock. I figure if we’ve had sex, we’re past the courtesy of knocking.

  “I’ve been expecting you,” he says, glancing up from his sketchpad. He’s seated with his back against his headboard.

  I close the door behind me.

  “Before you go feeling all special, I was awake and bored,” I lie. “What are you drawing?”

  He flips his sketchpad around to show me a drawing of his feet.

  “You’re drawing your feet?” I choke on my laughter. “I was expecting a beautiful landscape, or like a motorcycle, or something. Not feet.”

  “I like drawing the human body.” He flips it toward him, shading the white with his pencil. “Sometimes you have to be your own live model.”

  I climb onto the foot of his bed, sitting cross-legged and pulling up at the threads of his quilt.

  “You should let me draw you,” he says, setting his paper aside. There’s a hint of mischief in his dark eyes. “Like… all of you.”

  I sprawl across his bed, resting my hands on my bent elbow. “Like this?”

  “No. All of you.”

  “Nude?”

  “Yes, Waverly. Nude. Your body’s perfect. I should know. I had the pleasure of fucking it the other night.”

  My cheeks flush. It’s easy to remember how good he made me feel that night, but I seem to forget my body returned the favor.

  “I don’t know. It’s going to feel weird with you just staring at me, staring at my naked body. Being all exposed like that.”

  Jensen pops up and shuts off his bedroom light, returning to click on the small lamp on his bedside table. The room has just enough light for him to draw.

  “And if it makes you feel better,” he says, handing me a throw blanket, “you can strategically drape this anywhere you want. I’m not drawing porn.”

  I flash a half-grin, marveling at the way he knows exactly how to put me at ease.

  “No one will ever see it,” he promises. “My eyes only.”

  I fall back on the bed and cover my eyes with my forearm. “Ugh. I don’t know.”

  The bed creaks and shifts, like he’s coming closer to me. His deliciously masculine scent fills my lungs and the space around me is warmer. “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. But either way, I want to draw your beautiful, naked body, and you’re going to let me.”

  I pull my arm from my face. “You’re so sure of yourself all the time. Doesn’t it get exhausting being so cocky?”

  “I know what I am. I own it. And people respect me for it.” He climbs off
the bed. “Now, take off your fucking clothes before I rip them off you.”

  My body tingles the way it does just before I know I’m about to do something delightfully sinful.

  Some might argue that submission is in my DNA. I’d say it’s not submitting when you want it just as bad.

  I peel my clothes off article by article, teasing him, and he watches, feasting on me with his dark eyes. I glide naked across his bed, every soft fiber of the quilt brushing my sensitive skin and setting my nerves on high alert. There’s a warmth between my thighs, an arousal brewing.

  Jensen worships me with his generous gaze, the rest of his face obstructed by his sketchpad. He gets to work immediately, starting with broad strokes and then filling them in as he goes along.

  He pauses, sticking his pencil between his teeth and biting down before getting back to work. “Goddamn, Waverly, you’re sexy as fuck.”

  I fight a smile and bury my face in my arm for a moment before peering over it once again.

  “You’re going to have to stop doing that,” he says.

  “Doing what?”

  “Looking at me like that, like you’re trying to seduce me.”

  “Maybe I am.”

  “What would you know about seduction?” he teases. “You’re fresh off the boat, angel face. You’ve had sex all of one time.”

  I roll to my side, exposing my breasts, and the cool air of his room awakens my nipples. I run my hand along them, tickling my palm. My legs draw up, bending at the knees.

  “There are things you haven’t even experienced yet,” he says, his brows arched.

  “I’m not going to blow you,” I proclaim, staring up at the ceiling.

  He huffs. “Well, then, you’re missing out, because blow jobs can be just as satisfying for a woman as they are for a man, especially when I’m devouring your pussy at the same time.”

  “I’m sorry if the idea of sucking on a penis doesn’t sound appealing to me.” My legs squeeze together at the knees, imagining the way his tongue could easily command my body.

  “Well, when you put it that way…” He laughs. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.”

  “Not interested. Sorry.” He’s not coercing me into being his little sex toy tonight. No free blow jobs for him.

  “You’re challenging me. And now I have no other choice but to prove you wrong,” he says. His weight shifts off the bed, but by the time I look up to see where he’s gone, he’s lowered himself to his knees, his hands reaching between my thighs to spread my legs apart.

  “What are you doing?” I try to squeeze my knees together, but he’s stronger than me.

  His fingers find my folds, separating them, massaging my slit and circling around my sensitive nub. “Fuck. You’re wet as hell. You were wet before I even touched you.”

  Before I have a chance to defend myself, a wet and warm sensation silences my thoughts. When I glance down, Jensen’s head is between my thighs. He takes long strokes with his tongue before circling and exploring every part of me in the most intimate way imaginable.

  “Relax,” he whispers between licks. My legs fall wider, obeying his command. I’m submitting to him because this is the greatest feeling in the entire world. I’m at his mercy. I’ll do anything he says, as long as he doesn’t stop.

  My breath quickens, my heart pounding with every lick, suck, and twirl. He’s a magician. My sex is pulsing and pounding as I try to fight off mini waves of orgasms that threaten to shorten this supernatural experience. I can’t come yet. I’m not ready. I won’t let myself.

  Jensen’s hand inches up past my belly until he takes a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting just enough to provide a bit of a distraction. And then his warmth leaves me. No more tongue.

  “Why’d you stop?” I pant.

  He unzips his jeans, pulling everything off and then climbing onto the bed. Jensen grabs my hips and pulls them toward him. “Sit on my face, but face that way.” He points to the foot of the bed, so I straddle him backwards and he lowers me to his mouth.

  I’m in control now, bucking my hips against his mouth as his hands grip the flesh of my hips. I’m on my knees, desperate for something to cling onto, to ground me.

  I bend forward, coming face to face with his throbbing erection. In a hazy fit of blinding lust, I instinctively grab the base of it, bringing the tip of it to my lips. It’s warm and soft against my mouth. My lips part, my tongue extending to taste the tiny drop of pre-cum that rests on top of his swollen member. It’s slightly sweet, mostly salty, and not nearly as disgusting as I expected.

  I swallow the tiny drop and bask in the naughty feeling it gives me. My tongue strokes the length of him from base to tip and back before circling his head. He moans deep against my sex when I take him into my mouth. He’s velvet and heat, deliciously forbidden, and I can’t quite fit him all.

  His tongue continues lapping my arousal, hungrier and needier with each passing minute. My breasts graze his lower abs as I continue licking and sucking him. This is like sex, but softer, gentler, and even more sensual.

  Feeling his tongue invading my sex as his erection fills my mouth is strangely intense. Jensen was right. Again.

  “I’m gonna come.” He breathes his words hot onto my sensitive skin moments later, his hardness swelling and pumping into my mouth. His fingers dig into me, threatening to leave marks. A few long spurts and he’s dripping down the back of my throat.

  I rise up to my knees, his mouth still commanding my hips. I grab my breasts as I rock against him.

  Closer…

  Until I hit the edge I’d been fighting all along.

  Intensity rains down on me in uncontrollable spasms. Jensen grips me, refusing to let me leave his tongue until he’s drained every last ounce of orgasm from my spent body.

  I collapse on the bed next to him, burying my face against a free pillow. I’ve no idea how I’m going to walk out of here when I can’t feel my legs.

  “Waverly,” he says.

  “I know, I know. I’ll leave in a second.”

  “No, I was going to say, you don’t have to leave. Your mom and Bellamy are asleep, right? And your dad’s at Summer’s?”

  “You want me to stay?”

  “I wasn’t done drawing you.”

  “So that wasn’t a ploy to get me to…?”

  “No,” he laughs, his full lips arching wide. His fingertip scratches the spot just above his left brow. “That just, um… that just happened.”

  We lie on his bed, neither of us in a hurry to grab our clothes off the floor.

  My eye catches a round, dime-sized scar on his chest, hidden between two points of his tattoos. I’d never noticed it before, and I trace it with the tip of my finger. “What happened here?”

  Jensen doesn’t flinch or move. He doesn’t wince or scowl. “Cigarette lighter.”

  “How?”

  “My dad was mad at me one Sunday after church. I talked back to him on the way home in the car. Reached down, grabbed the cigarette lighter, jammed it into my chest. Burned clear through my shirt.”

  My body tingles with empathetic pains, and I breathe through clenched teeth. “All you did was talk back, and he burned you?”

  “If it wasn’t cigarette lighters it was red pepper flakes in the mouth, no dinner for a week, belts, paddles. Corporal punishment was a way of life.”

  “And he got away with all of that?”

  “If you lived in Charter Springs, you’d see. The whole goddamned town thinks he’s the second coming of Christ.” Jensen’s face is blank. I can’t read him. I feel like I should feel sorry for him, but I don’t get the impression that he feels sorry for himself. “He let up on the beatings when Juliette came into the picture.”

  “Juliette?”

  “My stepmother. She became his target after that. She couldn’t do anything right.”

  “Why’d she stay with him?”

  He shrugs. “I suppose because it was better than being out on the str
eet. And I don’t think Juliette really knew what love was, because she believed my father loved her. I don’t know much about love, but I know that wasn’t it.”

  “And…” I’m scared to ask, but I have to know. “You and her? How’d that happen?”

  He rakes his hand through his hair and blows out a lungful of air. “This is really heavy, can we—”

  “Please. I want to know. I won’t judge this time. I promise.”

  He pouts. “I don’t know, Waverly. I could sit here and say that she seduced me. I mean, she was older. She knew better. I was just sixteen when it first happened. But she wasn’t my first. I was experienced. It wasn’t a perverted sort of thing. We were both in a bad place, and we found comfort in our own way, with each other. Looking back, was it wrong? Yes. But it happened. Can’t go back now.”

  “And that’s how you ended up here?”

  He nodded. “That shiner I walked in here with? A parting gift from my father.”

  “What ever happened with Juliette?”

  “No clue.” He shakes his head. “I can’t imagine she left him. I just try not to think about it too much. Doubt I’ll ever see her again.”

  I take his hand, as a friend, as someone who cares. It’s all starting to make sense. One by one, all those dislocated parts of Jensen Mackey are fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.

  “Why are we holding hands?” he chuckles. “God, don’t look at me like that—with those sad eyes. Don’t feel bad for me. Seriously. I don’t think I could ever fuck you again if I know you feel sorry for me.”

  “It’s okay to be vulnerable.” I squeeze his hand.

  He untwines our fingers, reaching over and grabbing me to pull me on top of him. I’m straddling him, his fingers tickling my inner thighs and tracing up to my under arms before trailing down to my stomach.

  “Tickles? Really?” I can’t stop laughing, pushing his hands away until he finally stops.

  “It was way too heavy in here for a second.” Our hands are matched up, our fingers interlaced. Smiles fade from our faces the second our eyes lock. Jensen sits up, though I’m still straddling him.