Finding Fate

by Charisse Spiers

  “I’ve never wanted anyone else. I’ll go with you.” I lock my ankles at the small of his back, keeping him close. He rolls his hips, scrubbing himself against me, and the slight roughness of his stubble down low from him trimming to the skin or shaving is stimulating me even more. I’ve missed this kind of intimacy. I just don’t want it with anyone but him. He comes closer, our eyes locked and only far enough apart we can see clearly. “Kiss me, make love to me, come in me.”

  “Fuck,” he whispers and pushes deep, before he stills, making it obvious he’s coming already. He looks at me, guilt written all over his face. He releases my hands but doesn’t pull out. “I’m sorry. That phrase is a lightning bolt to my nuts. It’s what you said to me the last time we ever had sex before I lost you. Give me a few and I can get back up.”

  The fact that he remembered steals my air—the first and only time he ever came in me before today. We were having to say goodbye. Emotions were high. We were strung out over each other. I went through hell just to sneak away. I wanted something with him no one else could touch. We had stopped using condoms when he told me he loved me. And the things that happened after he left he’s oblivious to. That last time we had sex was special for many reasons. I hate that there are secrets between us, but it hasn’t really been intentional. He wasn’t here. I still have the scars regardless. Living without him made me grow up a lot. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

  His mouth tips a little as he pulls out of me. He hasn’t distanced himself from me in the least, and it makes me happy. It makes me feel like he’s glad I’m here, even if we found each other again accidentally. “The old Gabby would have been a lot bitchier than that, even at fourteen.”

  “Yeah, well, the old Gabby had not gone six years without you.”

  Without a second’s lapse, he kisses me, reminding me we’re here, together, and that’s all that matters. “Gab, you don’t have to go another day if you don’t want to. Honestly, I’d marry you tomorrow if I knew that’s what you wanted. I’m getting older. My friends are moving on. You missing from my life is not as easy to ignore anymore like back when I had distractions to keep me busy. I’m done making everyone else happy. Not a day has passed that I haven’t thought about you. A four-year age gap isn’t that big of a deal. I can’t help it that I met you when you were thirteen.”

  My heart flutters. Yes, I would marry you in a heartbeat, but not before you know everything.

  My dad is a lot more controlling than anyone could ever imagine. “I don’t want to go a single day without you if I don’t have to. I love you, Maddox. If that hasn’t changed by now, it’s not going to.”

  His chest pushes against my breasts with every breath. Suddenly, he lifts off me at the same time his hands grip onto the back of my thighs and he shoves me up the bed until his face is between my legs. Before I can even grasp on to what is going on, his mouth is latched onto my lips and his tongue is already sweeping back and forth between them over my clit.

  My back instantly arches, pushing my body against his hands holding my legs back, but he’s stronger, keeping me spread and open. I clench the comforter behind my head. “Oh . . . My . . . God.” I pant between words. “Shit. You’re so much better at that now versus when you first tried it.”

  He nips at my lip, and then burrows between them like he’s starving for my taste, not stopping until he’s demanding an orgasm from me. As it subsides, he kisses me one last time, and then comes back up over me, our eyes meeting with a cocky grin on his face and a satiated smile on mine. “I did have a very verbal coach.”

  I laugh for the first time since I’ve been back around him, more memories washing through my mind. Unfortunately, I didn’t get Maddox’s virginity like he got mine. He’d already been around the block with a girl or two by the time I met him. I wasn’t surprised. He’s hot. He also has the personality that makes him even more attractive. I was more surprised when he started talking to me that night. I thought he was talking to someone else at first.

  I did get a few firsts in return that made up for it somewhat. I was the first girl he went down on, for one, and it was obvious. I may have been young and inexperienced, and didn’t know what the hell I was doing in the beginning, but girls in my grade were touching themselves—in the bathtub, or late at night when parents went to sleep—out of curiosity, which was enough to know what feels good and what feels awkward, like when a guy gets too carried away with his tongue because he’s only heard of the act at that age and not practiced at it. That’s okay, though, because it was a lot more meaningful experimenting with each other. I playfully shove at him. “Shut up. I’m sure I’ll pay for it. After all this time apart I sort of wish you sucked at it.”

  He grips my chin, now completely serious. “Don’t go there. I haven’t done that with hardly anyone aside from you. I have morals. I don’t just put my tongue anywhere. Actually, we may as well get the bullshit out of the way, because I know it’s eating at you just like it’s eating at me. Your jealousy runs as deep as mine. Still, to this day, nothing has turned me on more than watching you beat a girl’s ass for trying to rub up on me.”

  I swallow, my heart pounding in my ears. I did do that. Got us kicked out of the water park. Stupid-ass lifeguard bitch. Tried to act like she was just showing him what to do. He wasn’t five. He could sit down on the fucking tube by himself. I’d do it again. Maddox is mine. I’ll defend my shit when the need arises. It got me sex in his truck before we went home, so . . . all wasn’t lost.

  I hate thinking of him with another girl. I’ve prepped myself for it for years. It still pisses me off, and maybe that’s because I never wanted to break up to begin with. “I haven’t been with a single girl the way I am with you. No girl gets my bare cock or my cum but you. No girl would have gotten it at all had we not broken up. I don’t know the number, but it’s not as many as you’d think in comparison to the year count. I went as long as I could between, Gab, even thinking this would never happen again. In the end, I’m still a guy that thought I couldn’t have you. And as much as my jealous ass is thriving on the fact that no other dick but mine has been in my girl, I have some guilt going on over it.”

  His body expands over me like a predator about to slay his prey. Each hand is positioned around my head, caging me in. “It’s going to make me a prick and I don’t care. I don’t like being a hypocrite, but I’ll deal with it. If you haven’t had sex, then what have you done? How many dicks has your mouth been on aside from mine? How many tongues have tasted my pussy? How many fingers have figured out how fucking tight you are? Have you let anyone in your ass?”

  He has an edge to his tone I recognize. Yes. The fear and anticipation of this very demeanor is what made it harder to fuck someone else when it was already next to impossible. The few times I got close enough to actually try I put the brakes on pretty quick, because in the back of my mind there was always a chance that we would be together again, regardless of how small.

  Life became a game to me. I perfected fake. I wanted to appear to be white trash without actually becoming white trash, which is why I dye my hair black with a box color from the nearest WalMart or Target. I didn’t want to spend a dime of Daddy’s money to have it done professionally. I wanted it to look like it was done by an amateur. Black was the most drastic change when my natural color is blonde. I coat my skin every two to three days in sunless tanner of a lower grade, not caring about the ending shade, or if it’s splotchy. I could look like an Oompa Loompa for all I fucking care.

  I used to take a little more pride in my outward appearance by doing things all girls do, like laying in the tanning bed or getting professionally sprayed, or even laid out to get a natural summer tan. I enjoyed my salon days with my kick-ass cosmetologist for a session of girl-talk, and always had my nails done by a properly licensed nail tech—which are now self-painted or do-it-yourself press on and the like.

  I would even go as far as to admit mentally that I miss all of those things, and shopping without
checking the price tag before trying it on, but that was when my life wasn’t complicated, and I loved my dad to no end, and we had a good relationship. When he folds his hand and stops telling me who I can and can’t love, and apologizes to Maddox and his family for what he’s done, then I’ll lay down my hand as well. Right now, his heart is fucking ugly, and I want no part of it.

  I’m not sure that’ll ever happen, though. My dad only cares about show, and a daughter he can keep in line. He was all about me swiping his precious credit cards in my name to have the best, and with him being busy making all of his prized money and no mother in the picture, I could do whatever the hell I wanted once I reached the age of eleven. I had a driver to take me anywhere I wanted to go, which is why it was so easy to have a relationship with Maddox at a young age.

  When he messed things up for me and embarrassed me over something I consented to over and over, just because the law ran in his favor, I wanted to embarrass him to no end. I’ve made plenty of people think I was easy over the years, like the bathroom escapade with Konnor at the New Year’s Eve ball my dad’s subdivision put on at the clubhouse when he wanted to trick Presley, or during all those times following once we formed a friendship that I joked about us having sex when he was screwing my roommate Autumn—before he ended up with Presley. Oddly, now, I think he saw through me.

  Deep down, though, this version of Maddox was screaming at me in my head. Yeah, I missed sex with a guy, but not enough to hurt him or piss him off later over. Boys will be boys. Regardless of how much we hate it, they will always find someone to have sex with if we’re not in the picture, but girls have a skill that many of them don’t exercise, and that’s self-control.

  His jealousy over me and guys teeters on the line of normal and out of control, but God knows I like it. He went ballistic over a guy from school texting me once, asking me to hang out.

  I raise my head and nibble on his bottom lip. “Gab . . .” he warns, wanting my answer.

  I wrap my arms around his half-sleeves of tattoos on his upper arms, gripping his strong biceps. I lick along his jawline, listening to his ragged breathing, until my lips are at his ear. “A handful. Specifically, one a year for the last five. No penetration—not even fingers—anywhere. If I could get away with jerking versus sucking, I did. That depended on the guy and the situation. I’m not going to pretend I was innocent. You weren’t. But it was more fun fucking Maddox Jr. guilt free than the betrayal I felt in my heart over giving someone else something I only wanted you to have. Hooking up may not have been cheating on you, but to me, it felt like it. I never wanted you to leave. I never wanted to break up. I never wanted anyone else.”

  “Gabby . . .” he whispers, his voice breaking my heart. His emotions flip like a switch. I’ve always wondered what it was like in his head for it to be instant, with little to no transition. I lay my head back on the bed to look at him. His eyes are glossy. “I’m sorry about the girls. It doesn’t mean I loved you less. It just made it easier to deal with you gone. Fuck. Maybe it would have made this less painful had you actually let another guy fuck you.”

  I smirk at him, taking control over the mood. What decisions we made when we were apart really don’t matter. That’s not on us. It’s on the person that made this happen. I can be mad about what girls got a piece of something that’s mine or I can be thankful he’s back. I choose the latter. “Oh, I let another guy fuck me many times. Paid damn good hard-earned money for it too. Maddox Jr. was almost as good as the original.”

  I relish in the fact that he’s getting hard. He smiles like a kid that got candy before supper. “You named your dildo after me?”

  “Yes. That way, when I screamed out his name, what was in my head felt more real.”

  His smile doesn’t falter in the least. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not that your dildo could fuck you almost as good as me. That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

  And I take pleasure in knowing how to make him happy with something as simple as the truth. “You’re looking at it all wrong. It took me hours online trying to find one that looked exactly like yours, and it simply means you left behind a strong enough memory that all I had to do was fuck a dildo the same size and shape as yours to make it come alive. When your memory can make me come, baby, that’s some damn good sex.”

  He’s breathing heavier than he has all night. “I’m so fucking hard right now imaging that.”

  “You could imagine it . . . Or I could just show you. Bet you missed me on top, didn’t you?”

  He scrambles to the head of the bed so I can climb on top of him, making me smile. I straddle him and grab his dick, sinking down on him the second he places his hand on my hip, his eyes glued to mine. He groans out when I start to rock, already groping my breast. “Shit, baby, a little age looks good on you.”

  I push him back, already getting faster. “Yeah, you like what you see? A curvier ass and bigger tits?”

  “Fuck, that mouth. I’ve missed it. I love you.” His face tenses, making my heart race, because I know that look, and he knows I’m catching on by the smile I’m wearing. “Okay, slow down a little. I gotta get a few more nuts out before I can last. I’ve wanted this too long.”

  Not a chance, baby. I plan to milk you dry.

  My older cousin Ariel, who was a give-it-to-you-straight kind of girl, has always been like a sister to me—at least before she moved out to Las Vegas. Had I not been so hellbent on staying in case Maddox showed up I would have gone with her.

  Anyway, I went to her right after me and Maddox had sex for the first time, a little unsure of how to feel since I had just given my virginity to a guy I’d only known a few hours, at the ripe age of thirteen. My emotions were everywhere and I was crushing on him hard—which is what led to me giving it away so easily in the first place. I was afraid he wouldn’t talk to me anymore. He sucked me in from the first line he ever said to me. After getting all of the safe sex shit out of the way like the responsible college student she was, she told me a little gem I’ve used ever since—fuck your man like you’re trying to be his best and he won’t go looking for it in someone else.

  Long story short and much to my relief—he texted within twenty-four hours. It didn’t take long before I snuck out to meet up with him, and the nightly meetup turned hookups turned into day hangouts. We were in love within a month and inseparable by the end of the summer. It may have been her advice or it may have just been fate, but either way, after a six-year separation and girls in between, I’m still the one he wants, and I plan to make up for a lot of lost time. I’m about to remind him why those girls don’t have shit on me.

  Two

  Gabby

  My eyes flutter open to a dark room and a body wrapped around mine. Maddox is so tangled around me I can’t tell where half my limbs are. It’s like he’s trying to make sure I don’t go anywhere. If it wasn’t so cold in here, I’d likely be sweating from the body heat. There is a soft dick pressed against my ass and a hand holding onto my boob like a stress toy. Warm air fans my neck every time he breathes, and his wide chest expands against my back in a hypnotic rhythm.

  I feel the heaviness of my muscles with every movement, confirming I’m going to be sore for a few days. Well worth it. I have no idea what time it is, but somewhere during our reunion sex marathon I think we literally just passed out. I know he said they’re leaving tomorrow, or today, depending on the time. I feel wide awake, rejuvenated even, regardless of the fact that I just woke up, and that probably has something to do with the adrenaline over us finally getting our second chance.

  I just want to get there and start our lives together. I’ll start looking for a job the second I’m in Florida territory. The one perk to not buying expensive shit is that I’ve saved a nest egg. I’ll call my boss and explain before I cross the state line. I need to pack my shit and load up my car. I want to be ready the second he wakes up. It’s time to ditch this place. The bad memories outweigh the good.

  The secret t
o not waking Maddox is slow and steady. Sudden movement wakes him up, or at least it used to. I pull my legs from between his slowly, careful not to startle him, and once they’re free, I slide my bottom half off the bed and stop. He doesn’t move. I relax a little. I don’t want to wake him up. He needs the sleep, because when I told him I want to drive so I can take my car, despite his offer to pay to ship it all, he decided to make the trip with me and drive instead of flying with everyone else, which means we need to leave much earlier.

  I grab the back of his hand and carefully lift it off my body, before resting it on the mattress where I was laying as I get out of bed. I freeze when he starts moving, but instead of opening his eyes, he mumbles, “I love you, Gabby,” and rolls onto his stomach, before settling back into a deep sleep.

  My heart swells. “I love you too,” I whisper. “More than you’ll ever understand.” I’ve got to hurry. I want to come back and get in bed with him for a little while. I haven’t gotten morning snuggles with him in forever, and the few times I did required me lying about where I was to stay with him overnight when his parents were at their camp on the river. I pull my blue jean shorts on, bypassing panties since I can’t see them and they aren’t appearing with a sweep of my hand. I put my bra on as I tiptoe to the door, my shirt after it.

  Since he never shut it, I don’t have to worry about it making noise. Within minutes I’m pulling the front door to, locking it before easing it completely shut, and then hurriedly jog to my car. There is a crisp feeling in the air, and even though it’s still hot in the south, it’s a feeling that confirms it’s fall. I try to be quiet shutting my car door, wasting no time before starting it up and backing out of his driveway.

  After a twenty-minute drive across town, away from the better subdivisions and nicer houses, I pull into the short driveway of the small three-bedroom rental house I share with Autumn. She went to New Orleans for the weekend; some festival, which means lots of alcohol and partying. I think they got a room with a balcony on Bourbon Street.