Jaxon looks at what I bought, nodding. “Good enough for me. But I’m sure you’re in for a new experience. Thanks.”
“For what?” I ask, setting my other bag over by his 'dresser.' “For buying four cans of Spam?”
“That... and for coming back. While you were gone, I had my doubts,” Jaxon admits. “Just... thanks for coming back.”
I know he wants to say more; I want to say more, but fear stops me, and I shrug. “We're in this together now, Jaxon. I know you don't believe me, or maybe don't trust me, but we are. Now, how's the water?”
“Not bad,” Jaxon says, looking in the pot. “I can get you a fresh pot when it's time for your washup if you want.”
“Nah, I don't want to wait that long,” I reply, stripping off Jaxon's sweatshirt. “Here, let me get your back.”
Jaxon gives me an incredulous look but hands me the washcloth, turning around and putting his hands on the sink. I start at his shoulders, rubbing hard at first, but as I run my hands over the lean muscles, bumping over the scars, I find myself slowing down, exploring his body. Finally, I swallow, nervous and turned on. “How'd you get the scars?”
He tenses, then lifts his head, not looking at me but looking into the small mirror that I guess he uses to shave. “Let’s just say I had to learn very quickly inside.”
“What happened?” I ask, swallowing the hurt as I trace a line that goes from near his backbone down and to the outside, ending a little bit below his lat muscle.
“There was a gang on my cell block, and if you had anything decent, they'd take it for 'protection.' Aunt Eleanora didn't know, and her third visit, she gave me a pair of shoes after she saw the things that the state issued. Nothing fancy, basic shit, but still enough to get attention.”
I gulp, putting the washcloth back on the table. “They wanted your shoes.”
Jaxon nods, turning to look at me. “I would have given them up, I didn't need the hassle, and I didn't have any friends in there. But Eleanora got sick. I found out through a letter from her doctor, since I was her only next of kin and they wanted to know if I would be willing to sign a power of attorney. She didn't want to tell me, she was too proud and didn't want me to feel bad. So when some dude told me he wanted my shoes, I told him to fuck off.”
“What did they hit you with?” I ask, stunned. “The scarring is terrible.”
“You’d be surprised what you can get your hands on,” Jaxon says, almost contemplatively. “Used car fan belts can be hidden a lot of different ways. And healthcare on the inside, unless you’re literally almost dead, isn't much more than a bandage.”
Jaxon shakes his head, and gives me a slightly bitter smile. “It wasn’t all like that. I learned there, too. But enough on that. I'll let you wash up now.”
I swallow and nod, watching Jaxon cross the room to pick up a small hand towel to dry himself with. I pull my t-shirt off and then look at my boobs, wondering if I should try and pick up a bra somewhere. I didn't think of one last night. The water's warm, and I start, using the fresh washcloth I bought to wash my belly and then under my breasts. The cool air makes my nipples tighten, and I bite my lip, wishing I had a little help with this. Finally, I have just my back left, and I cover up. “Jaxon?”
“What is it?” he asks, his back still turned. “All done?”
“No... can you get my back?”
Jaxon nods, then looks me over as I cover my chest. “Sure. It's easier than how I normally wash my back.”
“Which is?” I ask, turning around and pulling my hair over my shoulder. “Not wash at all?”
Jaxon laughs, taking my washcloth from me and wetting it again. “Try a cloth on a stick. Pain in the ass, but does the trick.”
The washcloth feels great on my shoulders and I sigh, leaning forward like Jaxon did and grabbing the edge of the sink, forgetting the fact that my breasts are totally uncovered as his hand rubs the washcloth up and down my back. He goes to dip the cloth again and I close my eyes in pleasure when he starts rubbing again, my breath catching when his hands come around to cup both of my breasts, massaging. I moan, pushing back, relishing the feeling of his strong hands. He's gentler than last night, but it feels just as good if not better as he teases my nipples, making me gasp when he tweaks my right side. “Jaxon...”
“You promised that as long as you're with me, I can do what I want with you,” he reminds me, and I chuckle, pushing back.
“I did, didn't I? So what do you want?” I ask, mewling in disappointment as he lets go of my breasts, and I turn around. “I wasn't lying.”
Jaxon pulls me tight and kisses me, his lips still strong but again, more tender than last night. “I know,” Jaxon says confidently when he lets me breathe. “So I'm doing what I want.”
He picks me up and carries me to the mattress, laying me on top of it. He kneels and tugs at my jeans, stripping me of my boots and pants quickly before he looks at my panties for a moment before stripping them off. The hungry, greedy grin on his lips as I lie back naked for him is thrilling, and I feel powerful. “See something you like?”
“Hungry,” he teases, leaving his jeans on as he lowers his head and kisses me, more tender than ever. “I'm going to have some breakfast.”
I'm confused at first as we keep kissing, our tongues twisting and tasting each other, my skin thrilling as Jaxon presses me into the mattress, his hands stroking my skin, cupping my ass but running lower, lifting my leg and holding me warmly.
Jaxon's lips move lower, kissing down my throat and between my breasts, pausing at my belly button to dip his tongue into the shallow well as the knowledge dawns on me what's going to happen. He looks at me with knowing eyes, smiling as he kisses even lower, his eyes glowing as his mouth opens and he breathes on my pussy, the warm air making the rest of my chilled skin feel even tighter in contrast.
His first touch of his tongue on my pussy lips sends an explosion up my body to burst behind my eyeballs, a silent, overwhelming strobe light of pleasure that I never even thought could be possible. The second lick is even better, and I give myself to Jaxon, trusting him totally. “Jaxon... oh my...”
He mumbles something, I don't know what it is as he licks and sucks, kissing my pussy and sending tremors through my body. He's perfect, each stroke of his tongue teaching me more about my body than I ever thought possible. When he starts licking my clit I lose it, grinding up into him and calling his name over and over, begging him to give me more.
His tongue moves faster, circling and teasing, pulling my clit out of its shy little home to expose itself to his devilish lips and tongue. He sucks, nibbles and tastes me until tears squeeze out the sides of my eyes. I can't take any more, but he leaves me caught, so high I'm afraid to come down but not able to take that final step to paradise. I look down and he's smiling, watching me with a happy grin on his face. He knows exactly what he's doing to me. “Please Jaxon, I'm begging you.”
Jaxon's tongue starts flicking over the tip of my clit, not just helping that last step but launching me into a body-quaking orgasm. My eyes roll up and darkness threatens to overcome me it's so strong, and I dig my fingers into his hair, wanting to scream out how I feel but not able to. I can't form words. Instead I vow, that I want to stay by his side... if he'll let go of his anger, if he'll let me stay.
I sag down, exhausted from the power of coming, stroking Jaxon's soft, beautiful hair and looking down at him happily. “Thank you, Jaxon. But why?”
He smiles softly and kisses my stomach before moving up beside me to give me a kiss, his lips tangy and sweet at the same time. “Because I had to have a taste. And because later, I'm going to fuck you so hard that you're going to be knocked out afterward.”
“Why not do that now?” I ask, stroking his face. “You can, you know.”
“I know,” Jaxon says with a soft laugh. “But I’m hungry, and you’re barely an appetizer. So let's make some food, recover our strength... and then we'll see.”
Chapter 7
Jaxon
My cock aches. I haven't come this many times in one day since a weekend when I was fourteen and Aunt Eleanora left to visit an old friend. I was left with a laptop and the newfound discovery of what internet porn is. This is better though, the woman in my arms is soft and warm, the scent in my nose is real, and the sounds of her satisfaction stir me in a way that I didn't think could happen.
“What are you thinking about?” Mandy says, taking my hand and placing it on her left breast over her heart. “Don't tell me you're wanting more. I don't think I can even walk right now.”
I don't want to tell her what I'm thinking because for the past fifteen hours, I've been in a fantasy, one that isn't just about the sex, but about something that I dreamed about during those long lonely nights in prison. The nights when I needed something, anything to keep me sane, from becoming even more bitter and twisted than I am.
But Mandy looks at me with those amazing green eyes, and instead of lying, I open my mouth, speaking from the darker side of my heart. “How do you know who your father really is?”
Mandy nods, swallowing. “I learned. I didn't fully understand when we started seeing each other back at Saint Foster's, even though I had an idea that something had happened to have us move into Whitechapel. I thought it was just something personal between our fathers.”
“Our fathers?” I ask, my emotions getting the better of me and I get up off the mattress, grabbing my jeans and pulling them on. “You say that like you understand, but do you really? You see my scars, but do you have any idea what it felt like, watching as you get railroaded by corrupt cops and a corrupt fucking judge? Knowing that your public defender attorney is being bullied and doesn't give two fucks about you? Watching your aunt's face as she sees the last decent hope for her family crushed, my scholarship snatched away. Do you know what it feels like to watch the girl you thought you were in love with betray you, when all she had to do was say something, anything?!”
I don't mean to say that last question, but it came out anyway, and Mandy looks at me with tears forming in her eyes, unable to say anything. I turn and grab my t-shirt and sweatshirt, heading for the door, I gotta get my head right. “I'm going out. It's after dark. I'll be safe.”
I don't listen for a reply as I hurry down the stairs and leave, cutting right instead of left. I know these alleys and side streets like the back of my hand, and while Henry's boys might be out in force looking for my ass, I know who's cleared on which streets, which means I can see who is and isn't right in the neighborhood. I enter the area controlled by the various Latino gangs, glad they don't really care about me. They don't even like Henry's associates except to keep the tentative peace on the border of their territories. Still, I keep my hood up. There's no need to take stupid risks.
As I walk, I wonder why I told Mandy about how I felt when I was arrested. I'd just gone by her house to look at Whitechapel, not even to pick her up. I knew that there was no way that Henry would tolerate his daughter being picked up by a kid on a Harley, especially me.
The first time I saw Mandy, I was already getting a reputation for being the kid who didn't fit in, even though I still did great in school. It came easy. I was the guy who was more than willing to tell the prep boys and the future sorority girls where they could stick their hundred dollar haircuts and five hundred dollar loafers. But then we talked, and those green eyes, silver oak hair, and welcoming smile just got to me... and she liked me, too. I was even willing to look past her last name.
Then on that day, I'd gone for a ride. Eleanora was coughing again and I promised to go and get her some Robitussin. We didn't even know it was cancer then, I just knew that it wouldn't hurt to stop by Whitechapel for fifteen minutes. I even brought a little present for Mandy, on the off chance that her father wasn't home, maybe I could get her to come to the door for just two or three minutes.
I walked up, thinking I looked halfway reasonable at the time. I even had the present in my pocket, a simple cheap gold bracelet, but the first and only real gift I ever bought a girl. Walking up, I stopped to admire the black Lotus sports car in the driveway, walking around it to check it out. I thought about how one day, after I made my way up the economic ladder again, that I'd have a car just like it.
I must have spent too long admiring it, because the next thing I knew, the cops were there, arresting me for supposedly trying to steal it. As they dragged me off, I saw Mandy in the window, and I called out to her... but she didn't say anything. She never said anything the whole time. Henry and his band of cronies saw to it that I got the book thrown at me, regardless of how ridiculous it was.
These thoughts distract me as I walk the alleys, when suddenly I hear a voice call out from behind me. “Hey! You the dude the gringo boss man's looking for!”
I turn, seeing a tough-looking Latino guy, one of the local gangbangers, and he's got a look I'm all too familiar with in his eyes. I don't have time for a fight, but I know the locals. They prefer knives to guns, so I move quick, grabbing the guy by the throat and slamming his head against the brick side of the alley as hard as I can twice before he can go for anything. I take off running, going halfway back to my place before I slow down, keeping an eye out.
I slip inside quickly and head upstairs, where I find Mandy dressed, her knees up to her chin, her eyes red after obviously crying.
“We need to go,” I say, brutally tamping down on the emotions welling up inside me after seeing her face. “Henry's got people looking for me. This place won't be safe much longer. We should’ve never stayed here.”
“Go where?” Mandy asks softly, looking up at me. “Where can we go?”
“We cross the river, Henry's got no influence over there, and we can hole up in a highway motel. Figure this all out.” I want to tell her to forget it all and to run off with me. Trying to extort Henry for money is dangerous, and I’m putting Mandy right in the middle of it. I know Henry would never harm his daughter, but she could get caught in the crossfire somehow. Besides, any amount of money isn’t going to bring my parents back. I need to look to my future, and she’s right in front of me. But fully letting go of my anger is hard. I've held onto it for so long.
Mandy wipes at her eyes but still gets up. “Okay, how far do we need to go?”
“Fifty miles should be enough. Come on, while this place isn't in my name, there's still a chance someone knows enough to check this place out.”
I grab my denim jacket while Mandy pulls on her leather coat and I quickly throw what food we've got left along with a few basics in my backpack, Mandy pulling it over her shoulders while I grab my helmet and my spare. “We keep these on, face shields down, it'll help.”
Mandy says nothing, but holds on tight as I start up my bike and head straight for the highway. There's a time to try and avoid notice, and then there's a time to just haul ass. As I kick my bike up to sixty-five and head out of town, I feel her arms tighten more, and she leans into me, saying something but it's torn away by the wind before I can hear anything.
I ride for an hour, pulling over across the river and checking into a middle-of-the-road-looking motel. The front desk doesn't say anything when I pay with one of the hundreds from my stack, and I roll my bike over, Mandy walking silently beside me. I unlock the door and let her go inside, where she sets the backpack down and turns around.
“Jaxon... we need to talk.”
Chapter 8
Mandy
Jaxon's face when I tell him we need to talk is tired but guarded, but he doesn't say anything as he turns around and double-locks the door. When he turns back, he shrugs off his jacket and starts pulling his sweatshirt off, leaving him in just his undershirt, the ink on his arms dark and visible against the white of the shirt. “I think we both do. What do you want to talk about?”
“About what happened when we were younger,” I reply. I've been trying to work up the guts to talk about this since seeing him for the first time, and I thought that maybe I'd gotten lucky, that what we were doing with our bodie
s was enough. That my kisses and caresses told Jaxon how I feel about him, how I feel about his arrest. “About your arrest, me, my father... all of it.”
“You apologized already, and I thought I said my piece about that,” Jaxon says curtly, going over and sitting down on one of the two queen-size beds. We paid for the only room they had open.
“Yeah well, I haven't said all I've got to say,” I retort, going over and sitting on the other bed, shrugging off my jacket and Jaxon's other sweatshirt. “And I can't let another second go by without you understanding me. Haven't you wondered why the hell I even went along with this crazy fucking plan?” I ask, feeling a little anger inside me. “Why I just decided, waking up on Christmas Eve and seeing you, to say 'Hey, why don't I let a guy I haven't seen in years go ahead and fuck me, take my virginity, and then scam my father'?”
“I didn't ask because I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer,” Jaxon says, unbuttoning his jeans before pulling them off. “Fuck it, this is a real bed, I'm ditching the pants.”
“Fine... but please Jaxon, just listen to me,” I plead, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “Then... well, it’s up to you.”
Jaxon considers my request for a second, then nods. “Go ahead. I realized while I was walking I said some things that probably hurt your feelings, so say what you need to say.”
“And you'll listen?” I ask. “I don't want to talk to a wall.”
Jaxon nods, leaning against the headboard and propping his forearms on his knees. “I'll listen.”
I swallow, then start. “When I moved into Whitechapel with my family, I thought my father was on the up and up. It wasn't until I started at Saint Foster's and heard some of what the kids said behind my back that I started to put the dots together. Then... then I overheard a conversation between him and Francino Capelli.”
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