by Hazel Parker
“Molly,” Paulie said, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows. “I swear to God, girl, if you don’t get your ass on my bike so we can leave—”
“I’m not going, Paulie. You need to leave.”
“Really?” he said, shaking his head. He looked at me before looking at Ethan and then shrugged, as if suddenly I wasn’t worth his time. “You’re going to regret this,” he said, walking away. “This ain’t over, pretty boy,” he sneered at Ethan before spitting on the ground.
I unlocked the door and pulled Ethan in before any more drama could ensue. I could feel him seething.
“Did you invite that Skull punk over here?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head.
“Then why the fuck is he here?” He paced back and forth, barely waiting for an answer. “You used to fuck him?” He walked forward, moving towards my bedroom as if knowing my home, though he had never been there.
“Well. Yeah. But a long time ago,” I stuttered.
Once inside the bedroom, he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me close. “I am the only one you’re giving this pussy to. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I didn’t invite P—”
He silenced me with a rough kiss, bruising my lips as his tongue claimed my own. “Don’t say his name,” he growled, continuing his kissing assault across my jaw. “Don’t say that fucker’s name.”
Yes, daddy. I couldn’t remember what he was growling about anymore.
His lips burned molten lava inside me. “Say my name.”
“Ethan.”
I could hear his murmurs of approval as his breath cooled and heated my skin. He placed his hand under my chin and slowly, gently pulled my face to his body. Tipping it back up to look at him, I could see everything he was feeling in his eyes. “Say it again.”
“Ethan.”
He unbuttoned my blouse, admiring my tanned fleshed as it slowly revealed itself before yanking it open and down my arms. I could see he was admiring the gift he unwrapped, and a gift it was – a gift I never thought we’d get again. His eyes never left my face as his hands reached around to unhook my bra. His mouth replaced the fabric, devouring my nipples, sucking hard then soothing before moving to the other nipple. I writhed beneath him, trembling under his touch. My nails clawed on his back, scarring his skin, then moved to the thickness of his hair, fisting it as his hands moved down my body.
He watched my face, burning it with intensity as he unbuttoned my shorts, and, with slow caresses, he touched my thighs and my ass as he slid them down. My panties came down. As he dragged them over my hips, he kissed down my stomach. He followed their descent, kneeling on the floor in front of me. With my shorts gone and my panties lost somewhere behind me, he buried his face between my thighs and finally my boots were on his shoulders as he savagely ate me.
Tongue and lips touched me everywhere. I opened my legs wider as his hands kneaded my ass, forcing me further into his face. I bucked into him, riding him as hard as he sucked on me. My hips gyrated against him as I held onto him, steadying myself on his shoulders, fingers digging into his thick hair.
I spiraled. I moaned. I cried, trying to get to the place he was dragging me. When his tongue flicked my clit, I arched, crying for more.
“Yes. Ethan,” I screamed, not caring who might have heard. He worked his tongue over my spot, rubbing the swollen nub over and over relentlessly until I couldn’t breathe. He worked me like a machine, not letting up until white-hot electricity flashed through my body.
I came. Hard. Twitching, splitting open and passing out in pleasure. My body twitched in his arms as he moved me, laying me hard into the middle of the bed. My legs hung over the bed, boots banging against the frame. I opened my eyes, seeing him in the midst of the white haze in my eyes.
He smiled, a sincere smile that I hadn’t seen in some time. A warm, almost loving smile lifted his plump lips before he brought them to mine. Despite his words of forgiveness, I had been afraid, but his smile spoke to me. A profound relief washed over me, consoling me. He’d truly forgiven me and we could get past this.
The last of my clothing fell away. I came alive in his arms, gasping and snaking my arms around his neck, molding myself to him. He kissed me erotically, sucking my tongue into his mouth, possessing me, telling me I was his and his alone.
I watched him as he undressed. He pulled the shirt over his head in one fell swoop, unveiling the god-like body under his clothing. I lost my breath as I always did, seeing him and his pure, unadulterated power. I sat up and pushed his hands away until my own slipped into his boxers, gripping his thick cock. He stepped back to kick off the last holdings of his pants. His shoes and socks went with them as his body covered my own.
Then there was nothing but my skin on his skin. He grabbed me by the ass and pulled me into him until we were joined together.
“You are so fucking wet.”
I mumbled something unintelligible, lost in the sensations and him. I couldn’t tell my up from down. Left from right. Him from me.
I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my legs around his waist. There was nothing between us. No barriers – condoms, lies, allegiances. There was just us. I could feel his cock everywhere.
The tips of his fingers bruised my hips as he thrust into me. Sweat dripped from his chest onto me as my breasts bounced in time with his ministrations. He was so deep and I wanted him deeper. He fucked me like he hated me and I wanted him to hate me even more.
Hate me. Hate the Skulls. Please hate me.
It was like he heard my thoughts and obeyed. He grabbed me tighter. Ramming into me harder and deeper, pulling back until only the tip tickled my entrance and thrusting into me, knocking my head back.
He spoke in between thrusts, angered and impassioned words. “I love fucking you like this. This. Hot. Sweet. Pussy. Those sweet. Little. Noises. You. Drive. Me. Crazy.”
He talked through his teeth, biting down on his lip, struggling to hold on as he spoke. It was too much. His dirty mouth. His hot body. His pounding into my body. It was a new level of pleasure, an untouchable level. It was building to be something I had never felt before. It was going to be an orgasm I’d never handled before. It would kill me. I was going to die. I was going to die from pleasure.
“Please,” I said, gasping in between his thrust. “Ethan, please. No. I can’t.
He ignored me. Humping my body and hitting new pleasure points. One hand tickled down the valley of my breasts while the other held onto my waist. He tweaked my left nipple hard before tweaking my right. Each time pulling a little scream from my chest.
“Please, Ethan,” I gasped. I needed something.
“Please what?” he said, bending over to suck my skin.
“I need….”
My brain was almost fried. I could barely think. I could barely breathe. I trembled as he licked up my chest like I was an ice cream cone.
“Tell me what you need, Molly.” My name on his tongue was too much. Equally distracting were his hands on my body. I rode the intensity and tried to find the word in the cacophony of every sensation he was giving me.
“I, I don’t know.” The word was so close. What I needed was so close. Just beyond my fingertips. I wanted to let go. I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to let go. But I couldn’t. My body was stuck on the ride, cranking my engine and not turning over. I was waiting for something but what? His touch? I had it. A kiss? A lick?
“Come.”
Something inside me clicked. That was what I was waiting for. He was what I was waiting for. I splintered apart. Shattered into a million pieces to the floor and floated to the ceiling. Nothing tethered me to the ground. I wasn’t on Earth anymore. I was on some kind of pleasure I’d never experienced before. How did he make my body feel that? I didn’t know I could feel like that. My body sung me to sleep.
Chapter 15
Ethan
I felt her chest heave up and down as she breathed slowly. She was in a deep sleep. I smiled, knowing I wore her out
. I looked at her naked body, curled in a ball while she slept.
She was beautiful. Just looking at her stirred the desire still buzzing in my body as we lay naked next to each other. If she woke up and decided she wanted to go another round, I could. I could feel my cock tensing just from the thought. Her soft, round cheeks were pressed right against me. If I wanted to, I could slip into her delicious body and wake her with sex. As if she could read my mind, she shifted her body and nestled in closer to me.
I felt like I could watch her sleep all night. Something in my chest clenched and I realized I’d never done with a woman what I did with Molly. That was something I’d never felt. Her presence was physically comforting and I wanted to do nothing more than sleep next to her, but my mind was working overtime, thinking about her and how this would all play out. It was preventing me from sleeping. It was like I was on drugs again, only this time, the drug wasn’t in a Ziploc bag. It was wrapped in these sheets.
I slid from the bed and sat on the edge, head in my hands. My hands itched and I felt like I needed to be in the garage. I stood quietly to put my jeans back on and wandered through the house. When I first came in, I was too busy with her body to pay attention to the décor.
Her house was modern, similar to other houses in Arizona. Tan walls, red lamps, and black decorations. Her floorplan was open and standing at the bedroom door, I could see almost every other room in the house.
It was obvious she didn’t play video games or have any frequent male visitors. No video games or piles of movies. Just the TV, a couch, and an end table. Her kitchen was both functional and girly. Her curtains had flowers on them and on the counter was a bowl of fruit. She had a Keurig, several bottles of wine, and colored towels hanging from the oven rack. I couldn’t see into her bathroom past the ceramic tiles on the floor and the red shower curtain.
There was a door on the side of the kitchen and I imagined it went to the garage we passed on the way in. I found the light switch on the inside panel of the cement walls. Her garage was a lot like mine, but smaller. On one side were cardboard boxes, stacked almost to the ceiling. I imagined there were probably Christmas decorations and other shit like that that you couldn’t throw away but you have no actual place for.
The left side of her garage had been set up as a small workstation. She wasn’t working on all types of cars and bikes so her tool section could be smaller. She had a workbench and several things hanging in columns and rows from nails on the wall. There were some on the floor, spilling out of a red toolbox beside a bike missing its front wheel. It sat on a cement block, though its wheel sat beside it on its side. I walked closer and saw that the paint job was all scratched up. The inside was missing. The engine lay out on the floor on a blanket; lined beside it were several parts, as if Molly had dissected her bike.
I sat on the short stool sitting beside her bike and picked up my favorite tool. The wrench. I figured I’d check on what was inside and if it was all right, start putting her bike back together. I lost myself in the task and my hands moved on their own. My muscles were relaxed and even though I was at Molly’s garage, I felt like I was home.
“What are you doing?”
I heard her soft voice from the entrance of the garage. She was standing there like a small child, sleepy and draped in my t-shirt.
“Working.”
“Mind if I help you?” I could tell by the tone of her voice that she thought I might say no.
“Of course not. You live here.”
She pulled a stool to sit beside me. “How long have you been in here?”
I glanced at the clock that hung on her wall.
“A little over an hour.”
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked, laying her head on my shoulder and I shook my head. We sat looking at her bike.
“Is this the bike you crashed?”
“Yup.”
I could tell from the make and the year that it was older.
“And you left it untouched all these years?”
“Yeah. I put it in storage at first and then when I got settled, I moved it here.”
Her bike had been through a lot, just like she had. From moving places to feeling abandoned and coming back home.
“Why do you still have this?” I asked in between the silence and the tinkering noises I made as I finished screwing on her muffler.”
“Because I was hoping to one day ride it again. All broken things can be fixed. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.”
I could hear what she was saying, the parallel of her bike and her body. “You’re not broken.”
“I’m not?”
“No. You’re not something anyone has to fix. Just love. You just needed a little love.”
“Is that what you’re giving me?” It was a heavy question, and a loaded one. Then she asked something even more incriminating. “Do you love me?”
I could have lied. But I didn’t. Deep down, inside myself, I already knew the answer to this question. I loved her. I knew that from the moment I saw that ugly skull on her head and I was willing, for a second, to say fuck it and be with her anyway.
“I do.”
She must not have expecting me to be so honest. She dropped her wrench and it loudly clanged against the floor.
“At least that’s what I told my mom,” I said, shrugging.
“What does that mean?”
“It means for once, I’m taking my mother’s advice. She asked me if I love you and I told her the truth – like I’m telling you. I do.”
“And what does that mean?” she asked, suddenly obtuse and needing over simplification.
“It means I won’t leave you when you’re acting insane. It means I like you when your hair is perfect and when it looks like you’ve been royally fucked. I think you’re beautiful naked and when you wear heels. I don’t care that you have scars and you sometimes cohort with trash named Skulls. I don’t care. I love you. It’s ridiculous and I shouldn’t. In my head, I know I’m breaking all the rules, but in my heart, I don’t care. I love you.” I took a deep breath and smirked, “Plus, everybody knows rules are meant to be broken.”
She giggled and threw herself onto me. “I love you too,” she said before kissing me softly. She pulled back to see my face and smiled demurely. “You love me,” she sung.
“That I do,” I said, kissing her nose before pulling her into my arms tightly and tucking my head over her shoulder. “And our first priority is getting this tattoo removed,” I said, biting her neck.
She squealed and nodded. “Yes, sir. No problem.”
What I needed to do tallied in my mind, compiling a list to somehow fix the blowout that would come from this. I needed to call a meeting and tell the crew what I was doing. They couldn’t find out from anybody but me. I was dating the Skull’s president’s daughter, and even though she wanted nothing to do with the monster, there might be some blowback on everyone. All’s fair in love and war, and truthfully, I didn’t give a shit what happened as long as Molly was on my arm.
*****
THE END
Burn it Down
Chapter 1
Solomon
I focused on the road ahead, the roar of my bike drowning out everything but my thoughts. Every so often, I glanced into my side view mirror and checked my six. I wasn't paranoid, but vigilance was vital in my way of life. At six-two with a hulking frame and an ugly scar running down my neck, I was the type of guy people generally stayed away from, but once in a while someone, inspired either by alcohol or stupidity, would put it upon himself to try to bring a man like me down. For now, it was all clear.
The night had settled in as I drove, the chill of the air seldom slipping through my leather jacket and brushing my skin. Giving my wrist a quick twist, I picked up speed and pushed my motorcycle through traffic. I was free on two wheels. I ducked in and out of traffic with ease, shifting my weight and adding finesse to the way I sped past the tourists. The last thing on my mind as I reached the open road was
a speed limit. I had to get to Willow Springs Lake fast, but a glance at my fuel tank told me I had to stop for gas soon.
Minutes later, a gas station's neon sign appeared and it blinked in and out as I slowed my acceleration. I pulled up next to one of the pumps and took the keys from the ignition. My legs slightly vibrating, feeling the length of the ride.
It seemed like I was the only customer. Considering I’d reached the rural areas, that wasn't much of a surprise. Stuffing my keys into the pocket of my jeans, I walked inside and took a look around.
A single attendant stood behind a cash register, intimidation evident in his eyes. He was shorter than I am, lanky and pale, and I had to give him props for not looking away.
"Where's your bathroom?" I asked, doing nothing to disguise my impatience.
He pointed to the back and, without waiting for words to go with the gesture, I made my way to the bathroom.
I took care of business and ambled my way to the sink. I sighed as hot water poured over my hands, a stark contrast to the feel of the night's air.
The Bandits were waiting for me. They'd picked a location that was out of the way, which meant tonight wasn’t just about merry-making. Important matters would probably be discussed.
I was ripping a couple of paper towels from the roll when a crash interrupted me. Making quick work of drying my hands and shooting it at the trash, I walked to the door and my fingers wrapped around the knob.
"Open the register!” one voice said.
“Give me everything you've got!" said another.
I'd finally put a voice to the cashier, his words full of fear as he struggled for compliance.
“Great," I muttered to myself. “This was exactly what I needed.”
I could've stayed in the bathroom and waited. I could've let them rob him, do whatever they wanted with him, and made my way out. But I was already on edge, and they were going to make me late so I really had no choice but to intervene. I slowly opened the door to a small degree and looked out into the store's expanse.
At least two men stood near the front entrance, one of them pointing a gun that would have easily taken the cashier's head off. They didn't look like much, dressed in all black, wearing hoodies and around the same build.
