by Sierra Hill
I’m nearly out of my mind from lust and am about ready to say yes to whatever he has in mind when we hear a voice behind us. A deep and serious voice, tinged with venom.
“Well if it isn’t my long-lost, good for nothing, fuck up of a son.”
Lance stills and then lets me go, leaving my lips wet and swollen and my mouth open in surprise.
He doesn’t turn to face the man, but I do.
The man in front of me has the same build as Lance. Same complexion. Same eyes. Although, on this man, his they hold a dark, callous glint to them. Devilish. Full of hatred and accusatory judgment.
“And I see you haven’t changed much. Still hooking up with worthless, whoring sluts.”
I gasp for air as if I’ve been hit in the gut.
Lance spins and grabs the man by his throat, pushing him a few steps backward as the man staggers to remain standing. I’m about to step toward them, get in between them to get Lance off, but someone else’s arm barricades me off. I twist my head to see it’s Alex and he just shakes his head, telling me to stay put with his eyes.
I’m stuck watching in horror as this unwanted reunion unfolds between Lance and his dad.
“Don’t you ever fucking disrespect my girl that like. Don’t even look at her, you fucking drunk asshole.”
Whoa.
Okay then.
Lance’s dad sneers, his eyes sizing up his son’s intentions. And then as if to provoke him further, he leans his head to the right, past Lance’s shoulder and scowls at me.
“And she’s a fucking ‘spic cunt, too. Figures.”
And then all hell breaks loose.
Chapter 19
Lance
I saw red and absolutely fucking lost it.
Right fucking there, without a thing holding me back with Mica looking on in utter shock, right along with a whole lot of other spectators, as I threw a punch at my dad’s face.
My fist caught him across the left side of his nose and jaw, blood immediately gushing out and pouring over his lip.
He’d stumbled, his body hovering over the back of a vacant chair as he wiped his face in surprise. When he rose up again, that same evil smirk had returned to his face, along with a determined glare in my direction.
“Good punch for a fucking pussy. At least you grew some balls since the last time I saw your crying lazy ass.”
Rage filled me to the brim, leaking out of my pores right along with the whisky I’d drank in excess.
“Shut the fuck up. You wouldn’t know what a pair of balls even felt like. You’re a weak, drunk son-of-a-bitch.”
He snorted. “At least I didn’t go run and hide while your mother was dying. Or kill my own brother.”
And that’s when I blacked out. He’d cold-cocked me back, and I’d fallen and hit my head. Or at least, that’s what I think happened.
When I came to about three minutes ago, I only remember things clearly up to that point. And now I’m lying on Mica’s couch with an icepack across my eye and a split lip that’s throbbing like a motherfucker.
I have no idea how long I’ve been here. Or how I got home or how she managed to get me inside. Questions I don’t have answers for, but I do know I’m glad I’m at her place and not my own. Because if I were at my apartment, I know I’d just want to get more fucked up than I already am. I’d take what’s left of my pills and lose myself in oblivion, blocking out all the shit that went down tonight.
Seeing my father is one thing. Being confronted by him and his angry put-downs and verbal abuse is something I’ve dealt with for years, since I was a little boy. But having him say those vile things about Micaela when he knows nothing about her, well, let’s just say every man has his breaking point.
I gingerly roll to my side and moan. My fist feels like it’s on fire.
“Como estás, amado?”
My eyesight is a little blurry, but I open them to see Mica’s comforting face come into view. The sweet, angelic lines of her jaw and the worry etched into her brow have me wondering just how bad I look.
“I’m fine, I think. Just a little sore. But baby, I’m so sorry....I’m so sorry for what he said…He’s…the fucking devil.”
She waves me off and places her hand gently on my cheek, the warmth of it searing through my flesh. Comforting me in a way I don’t deserve.
“Lance, you are not your father and you’re certainly not accountable to his racist beliefs or bigotry.”
Exhaling, I close and then open my eyes, trying to block out the memory of the way she looked when he said those horrible things to her. She is the only thing good and pure in my life. Everything else is so fucked up. Especially my dad. I’m embarrassed to have his blood running through my veins. I wish I could open my arms out and bleed out all the parts that are my dad.
I look away as she continues. “You can’t be held responsible for his views any more than I can with my family. If you recall, my mother wasn’t all too pleased or accepting of you, either.”
Gingerly, I lift myself into a sitting position, pulling her up on the couch next to me.
“You’re right, but my dad has a tainted view of the world and is an awful fucking man. I’m just so sorry that you had to see that and hear those awful things he said. I’m not like him and don’t share those opinions. You know that, right? It’s because of his abusive ways that I haven’t had much to do with him in years. The last time I saw him was…was at my mother’s funeral.”
“Oh Lance, I didn’t realize,” she says with a small, soft gasp, her fingers brushing across my cheek not covered by the icepack. “When was that?”
Dropping my hands and the icepack, I place my hands in my lap, absently stroking my thumb across my bruised knuckles. I hate thinking about it and hate talking about it even more.
“She died last year of liver cancer. It was bad at the end. My dad thinks I was responsible for her death.”
The look of horror on Mica’s face is endearing but completely misguided. I am to blame for her death in a way. After Landon’s death, both my parents started drinking heavily and regularly. They couldn’t deal. And it’s the booze that affected her life. Was the reason her body began to deteriorate at a younger age than most. Caused the cancer that ate away at her insides.
“Dios mio, Lance. No, no, no,” she shakes her head emphatically. “Baby, you have to know you can’t be the cause of someone’s cancer. That’s not how it works.”
Mica’s hands cover my own, the sweet gesture of a sweet and beautiful woman. If only she’d learn what a terrible person I truly am and what lies I’m covering up, then she’d walk away now and I wouldn’t worry that one day she’ll see the horrible truth and realize what a monster I am.
I wish I was strong enough to slay my own dragons and have the balls to deal with the past that haunts me. But instead, I lean on her comfort and touch to help me wage the war going on inside me. I’ll shield her from the awful truth of who I am and what I’ve done for as long as I can.
“Look at me, amado.” Her hands cup my cheeks and turns my face to look at her.
Just the sight of her takes my breath away. Makes me want to land on my knees in worship and reverence.
“I love you, Lance.”
I’m stunned. The words take me by surprise and knock the wind out of me.
No one has said those words to me in so, so long. Not since before my mother died. Not since I was a kid, when she’d give me Eskimo kisses when she’s tucked me into bed at night. When things were perfect in my world and love was enough to make the world good.
But I know better now. I’m older and wiser. Those words hold no meaning because they are easily snatched away.
The three words she drops at my feet burn both my head and my heart, but score deep inside my soul. Those words are freedom and chains. Medicinal yet a curse.
I can’t say them back to her, not because I don’t feel them, but because I’m not worthy to utter them to her. She needs someone so much stronger than me – both in mi
nd and spirit. And I know I’m not who she’s meant to be with.
I’m meant to be a loner the rest of my life. No one wants me to bring them down. Especially not this angel in front of me.
Despite my tumultuous thoughts, I’m still weak enough to give in. I can’t let her go just yet. I need more of her. Without her I am nothing but a shell.
“Baby, you have no idea how much you mean to me. You’re a dream come true.”
I lean forward and capture her lips in a kiss. My tongue probes deeply as she opens for me, as I explore the hot crevices of her mouth. She tastes so sweet – of orange and spearmint from the fruity drink she had tonight.
Pulling her onto my lap, I sink down into the couch so she can straddle me. Her skirt hinders her ability to move without constriction, so I lift the material above her hips and squeeze her fleshy backside as she grinds down against my erection.
I use my thumb to gently circle the nipple that pokes out of her blouse and she arches her neck at the pleasure of it. The position has her hair hanging down her back, the ends swaying freely to create a sexy curtain of movement. I grab hold of the silky strands like a rope, tugging at it with enough force for her to squeak.
“Do you remember what I told you earlier? About how I would fuck you tonight?”
Her eyes open wider, but then narrow in seductive fiery passion. She nods.
“Tell me, Micaela. What did I promise you?”
My hand lands on top of the sweet flesh of her thigh, and I trace patterns around the goosebumps that pebble her skin.
“You…you said it would be hard and fast.”
Sliding underneath the denim fabric, my fingers find the prize possession hidden under the lace between her legs. I press at the seam and she jolts with a breathy gasp.
And then because I’m not teasing, I pull the edge of her panties over and shove two fingers into her wetness. She jerks at the intrusion and then grinds down on them so I’m buried deep.
We both moan together. She’s all slickness and heat and I’m nearly overcome with gratitude when she clenches around me.
“You like that, baby?” I ask rhetorically, knowing she does based on the way she’s rocking against my fingers, seeking friction. Finding her release.
I add another finger as she gyrates and moves, her sexy moans and gasps enough to make me lose my mind.
I’m so hungry for her. Starving for her touch. Needy of finding a release inside of her body.
Because I’m a bastard and don’t want her to come yet, I pull out my fingers and she groans with a feisty pout from the withdrawal.
“Wha-?” she begins to say, but I cut her off with a kiss, picking her up in my arms and walking toward her bedroom.
“It may be fast and hard, but I’m still going to fuck you properly.”
Depositing her on the bed, I whip my shirt over my head and struggle a little with my belt. She takes her calm and steady hand and undoes the buckle, unbuttons and unzips and then moves them down and out of the way.
She’s so sexy like this. Unbelievably compliant and up for anything. Which makes me think she’d be okay with what I’ve fantasized so often about doing.
I lean over her sitting form and lift off her shirt, my hands quickly divesting her bra, as well. She slides off the skirt and now all that’s left is her thong.
“Your skin is so soft…so sexy here,” I whisper, circling her belly with my finger and then my tongue, as she props herself up on her elbows. “Would you let me…”
I don’t finish right away. Instead, my mouth continues to mark the terrain down to the juncture between her thighs as I remove the panties and throw them out of the way.
I’m distracting her with my mouth. Kissing, nipping and blowing at her clit, my fingers returning to her wet entrance as I push them inside. She cries out hoarsely, bearing down on them as I move them in and out.
While she’s on her way to that sacred nirvana, she still has the wherewithal to ask. To make me finish what I was going to say.
“Would I let you what?”
My fingers curl inside her, my thumb deftly rubbing at her clit as she begins to tense and shutter against the pending eruption.
I return my kisses to the inside of her thigh, my other hand mapping the exquisite perfection of her skin as I make my way back up to her abdomen.
“I want to come on your stomach. Your body is so sexy…I want to…”
“Yes,” she says in a breathy gasp. “Do it. Please.”
Oh fuck, this woman. She’s too much for me. This is too much. I’m so hard. So painfully hard and my body is tight with the need for release. All I want to do is slide inside her and never leave.
But I want to get her off before I do. My mouth resumes the barrage of kisses across her mound, her pelvis, the sweep of satiny skin at the juncture of her legs. She smells, tastes and sounds like heaven.
My tip of my tongue lodges in deep within her and she squirms in anticipation. I squirm in anticipation and breakaway for a moment.
“Tell me when you’re getting close.”
I place my mouth once again over her clit, flicking the swollen nub, as she bucks hard against my face. Her hand comes down to the top of my head, grabbing hold of my hair and pulling and then pushing me with such force and frenzy that I’m nearly dizzy. Drunk on her desire. And then I suck her hard and she writhes against me.
“Coming…oh Lance, I’m coming,” she cries as my mouth is fused against her center.
Her body transitions from a tense, pulsing mass to a limp and lax, and deeply satisfied, woman.
Wiping my mouth off by kissing my way up her body, she’s lying with her head on my pillow, the most luminous beautiful smile fixed across her mouth.
“God, that was fucking beautiful.”
And then with once swift push, I’m thrusting my throbbing dick inside her pliant, wet body. Her eyes pop open wide in surprise and I take her mouth with mine. As if the taste of herself on my tongue makes her wild with lust, she grabs hold of me as if I’m the ledge of a burning building and she’s hanging on for dear life.
Her nails dig deep, leaving cutting grooves along my back, my ass and my shoulders. As I thrust inside her tight pussy, she leans up and bites my neck.
And just like that, I’m spiraling out of control. Just that slight edge of pain and the lingering sting of it on my skin pushes me into that wild domain. Where all thoughts float away and out of my head and I’m only sensation and bliss.
Her ankles clutch together at the base of my spine as my thrusts become harder and deeper, each one receiving a delighted gasp from Mica’s mouth. Little gusts of breath that I want to steal with my kisses. Devour and capture and hold onto forever.
Bending my head, I suck a ripe nipple into my mouth, laving my tongue across the stiff peak. The sounds she makes have my body coming alive with a greedy need. She fills up my empty and cold heart with just the mere essence of her smile. I want her with a desperation that penetrates my soul – just as I penetrate her body.
My heart is beating so fast it feels like it might smash through my ribs. I leave her breasts wet and glistening and claim her lips again, as the need to come fissures through my body like a bolt a lightning.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” I growl, the urgency nearly rendering me unable to move.
But I pull out of her with a measured glide and into my awaiting hand. We both zero in on my straining cock, covered in her slick wetness, as I stroke it twice – from base to the crown – and then watch as I ejaculate in long, hot ribbons of heat. I pulse in my own grip, staring in dizzying awe as my cum splashes over the taut skin of her belly.
It’s fucking perfection and the hottest thing I’ve seen.
The contrast between the creamy white of my ejaculate and her tawny-colored skin is like those artsy swirls in my latte from the coffee shop. The way it mixes and combines to make the most beautiful art there is.
It feels like I shoot forever – wave after spectacular wave of my orgasm
hitting her all over her pelvis, ribs, hips and the flat of her stomach. It’s so fucking hot and dirty that I nearly feel the need to come again.
Finally, when I’ve emptied myself and there’s nothing left in me, I move my gaze to Mica’s face. She’s thrown her head back on the pillow with a soft plop and she’s wearing the sexiest, smuggest grin I’ve ever seen her wear.
Reaching for the tissue box, I start to hand her one and then think better of it and begin cleaning her off. When our eyes meet again, I say,
“That was seriously the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I throw the used tissue on the floor and lay down on my side, snuggling up to her warmth, moving her to fit her backside against me.
“Surely you’re lying. I’m sure hotter sex than that.”
Yes, I’ve had sex with many women throughout my college experience. But none of them have left me feeling like they are the only one that matters. None of them make me feel like I do for Mica. Not by a mile.
Whether it’s love or lust, I can’t pinpoint exactly, but it’s a feeling not unlike being in a warm bath, surrounded by steam and scented bubbles, that take hold of my body and elicit a sense of soothing calm peacefulness. I’ve never had this before.
Brushing her hair out of the way, I bury my nose in the crook of her neck.
I whisper softly and solemnly, hoping she’ll hear the truth in my words.
“You’re it for me, baby.”
Chapter 20
Mica
The days have turned into weeks, which have now turned into months. And things between Lance and I keep getting deeper and better.
Is he my boyfriend? My novio?
My answer to that question would be yes, although we haven’t labeled anything specifically.
Are we in a relationship? Again, based on what I’ve seen, and based on what Cade and Ainsley have said – which is they’ve never seen Lance this head over heels over anyone before – than yes, I guess you could say that’s true. We are definitely in an exclusive relationship.
