Sin's Flower

by Carlene Love Flores

  “Shhh. Don’t be sorry. Stop worrying and just be you.”

  “Hey, that’s my line to you.”

  But he couldn’t joke around with her right now. He moaned and swore to himself and the saints that he wasn’t sorry. That he never wanted to feel another woman’s touch on his body again. “Unnnhhh,” he moaned again trying to muffle the noise in her hair.

  * * * *

  Jaxon’s body felt wonderful under her hands. Not just the one wrapped around his manhood. His hip bone was so sexy as she focused on the differences and similarities of the two areas she stroked now. One area was hot, soft and hard all at the same time, a little bumpy from hairs sprouting out and the small veins rising under the tightly stretched skin. His hip had her entranced. She hoped she wasn’t neglecting the hand job she’d offered him but his hip was…perfect. No extra padding from unwanted fat. Just taut muscle over bone. Bone covered by tanned soft skin. Had he been born that way, so sinful but heartbreakingly gorgeous? She wondered if she could convince him to walk around freezing Tennessee in his lowest rising pants and a short shirt to show it off. That would be so mean.

  The thoughts of being with him in sunny and warm California suddenly became ecstasy. Could she imagine it? Oh yes she could. Him walking around naked whenever he wanted. Jaxon had to take Maryella and Benny home in one week. And somewhere in her heart, she knew she couldn’t leave Tris. There was going to be a flipping farewell taking place soon. One where she’d try to be confident, and dammit, work her sexy for him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “You don’t like this part of your body, do you?” he asked her after some time had passed and some space had been created and then erased between them.

  “No, not really.”

  “Did you know that I wish I could lay my head down, right here, and just pet you without ever stopping? Your body is gorgeous, Lily. See this?” He let his hand slide up and down in the valley of her waist and the hill of her hip. “I love this. A woman is supposed to have this here. It’s where I need to hold onto you. Where I did hold onto you. Remember? So fucking sexy.”

  She gasped. “I do feel kind of sexy when you put it that way. And yes, I remember.”

  “Good girl.”

  “Jaxon, where does it come from? The way you feel so sensual about your body?”

  “Mmm. I feel an immense desire at the thought of having sex, and sharing myself, I always have. Maybe it comes from Australia. We’re special down there like that.” Every time he winked, her cheeks warmed against his bicep.

  She chuckled lightly at his joke. “But is there a part on you that you like? Kind of how I hate my hips a little less now that we’ve had this talk.”

  Who could help themselves from smiling? Neither of them.

  “My hands.”

  “They are beautiful. They really are. You know what part I like?”

  He loved that they were having this conversation, so open and natural and raw and sexy and real. Especially after the near fight they’d gotten into only minutes ago. He’d rather think of it as a misunderstanding. Once Lily understood that he would always want to stop time to make love to her, they would be much better off. They continued their whispered conversation.

  “What part, baby? I’ll make sure I take very good care of it for you.”

  Her mouth had to stop smiling like that. “Right here.” And then she touched his neck where the rose thorns tattoo traveled up from his shoulder muscle, along his pulsing artery. “I think if I kissed you there now, I’d never want to stop.”

  She had no idea he’d had the tattoo put there back in his younger years as a statement of what he thought about the women professing their undying love to him. All thorns, no roses. And then so many hadn’t paid attention and thought they were teeth marks. The assumptions grew that he liked to be bitten there because of one damned song he’d done during a blood sucker fascination phase. And he’d been wasted at the time.

  “You look like you’d rather be castrated, Jaxon.”

  “No, no.” He didn’t want to explain because then she’d know more about that man he wanted to forget and never ever introduce her to. “Your sweet perfect lips would feel incredible in that spot.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, go ahead. Have a taste.”

  But before he had the chance to enjoy that, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He ripped it out, set to heave it across the room. But the contact name flashing at him was Vangie’s mother. No matter how dead against he was talking about his ex right now, Mrs. Acosta had generally been decent to him and to that he owed her a few minnies of his time. He caught Lily’s face in his palms just as she was about to send him to heaven.

  “Lily, I’m gonna step out to take this,” he said and flashed her his phone. “Be right back,” he mouthed to her. See, if he’d been without his pants, he would have avoided this interruption. Pants could kiss his ass.

  She nodded and he hopped up then quietly left the room. “Just a second,” he said, deciding the only place where he wouldn’t wake anyone was outside. Shoeless and freezing, he stood on the side porch steps marching softly to keep his toes from turning to ice cubes.

  “Hello? Elva? Is that you? I can’t hear too well. Can you speak up?” The connection wasn’t great, making her voice small and distant.

  “Jaxon? Jaxon? Are you with Maryella?” Elva Acosta had always surprised him with her soft-spoken voice, so glaringly opposite of Vangie’s, and he’d had plenty occasions to hear her cry over her daughter’s behavior. Shit, he’d shared a few of his own tears with her.

  “Yes, Elva. It’s me and I’m here at my family’s home in Tennessee with Maryellie. But I can’t hear you too good. Are you all right?” He continued to prance on the porch.

  “Oh Jaxon, it’s Vangie.”

  So help him, not a word for two years. If she had gone and booked herself a room for the night with the Vegas PD, at motherfucking Christmas, he was gonna be so pissed. As much as being a single dad was kicking his ass, he wasn’t ever fucking up again. This was the best gig of his life and he’d never forget that. If he could get his shit together, then Vangie should do the same. But her problems had never been about addiction. There probably wasn’t a cure for bitchiness and a passion for fighting. Those were just unfortunate personality traits that Vangie had in spades.

  “Have you heard from her? Does she want something?” He sighed, not letting down his guard. In the two years since she’d disappeared, he’d finally gotten her poison out of his system.

  Then he remembered the ad and the looming deadline for her to respond about amending Maryellie’s birth certificate. Shit! That’s what this was about. God dammit with the games.

  He cracked his knuckles. For as much as he’d wished in the past that they could have worked things out, the thought of Vangie being near Maryellie set his hackles on edge. Elva hadn’t said anything in response yet.

  “She was at a boyfriend’s house, I think.” The calm had left Elva’s voice and it quivered.

  “The one in Vegas?” Why did he care?

  “Yes, probably,” she choked out.

  “Elva, what are you not telling me? Did she ask you to call? Because I’m sorry. She left us, without a word. Two years ago. I’m done. I have to protect Maryellie from that right now. She’s too little to understand.”

  His daughter hadn’t seen her mummy since she was five. That had been the last time Vangie had stolen Maryellie from him. Later, thanks to a call from Elva, he’d found out Vangie’d taken off to Vegas. And a few days after that, had called Elva to come get Maryellie while she figured things out. Darkness clawed at his eyes, his throat felt rough when he swallowed. The worst part? He hadn’t done anything to help Vangie once she’d left like that.

  “Vangie died, Jaxon. An officer called me about a couple hours ago.”

  Vangie was dead? Jaxon fell back against the house, stunned. “Elva, are you okay?”

  “I’ll be okay. I’m sorry I had to call you with t
his news tonight. I really am, so so sorry.”

  “Oh Elva, please don’t worry about that. Do you know what happened?”

  “Jaxon, my daughter, she just never figured things out. The officer said there was a fight with a boyfriend. Vangie left the apartment in his car and pulled out in front of someone. They hit her on the driver side. It was fast.” Elva began to cry a desolate mother’s tears. She was able to catch her breath for a moment. “I didn’t call to say this, but thank you for not shutting me out of Maryella’s life. I know it must be hard. But I’m so grateful right now.”

  Jaxon’s emotions had deserted him. He couldn’t even address the subject of his baby’s mum being dead. “Elva, you’re a great grandma. Maryellie loves you, very much. I wish you got to see her more.” Elva had always come to them in California. He’d yet to make a trip to see her in Texas. That would change now. “I don’t know what to say, Elva. But, I’m sorry. For a lot of things.”

  Elva sniffled. “You’ve done all you can. You’re a good man, Jaxon. And a great dad. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

  “Elva, I’m not sure what final plans there will be, but please let me take care of those. Please let me do that on behalf of Maryellie.”

  She made a wet, snorting sound like she’d just crossed the line into delirium for having to think of those. “You just take care of my grandbaby and yourself. How are you doing, Jaxon?”

  He wanted to promise her so many things but knew that would be wrong. He couldn’t imagine the crap she’d gone through having Vangie as her only child. Shit, how much of that crap had been his fault too?

  “I’m in a good place, Elva. Because of Maryellie. God, I’m so sorry. If you change your mind or need anything, please call me. Please take care of yourself.”

  “Hug Maryella for me, Jaxon. Hug her and tell her I love her.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  The phone disconnected from Elva’s end.

  For a few minutes, he stood there in shadows of the porch’s overhang. The intersecting wooden beams of the frame reflected a slanting cross onto his chest. He tried but failed to rub the shadow away. Raindrops falling just to his right sprayed him and began to drip from his face and shirt until he moved to sit down on the porch bench. Outdoor smells of old, wooden beams and even more ancient trees being washed clean bled through the home’s sidewalls. What more was there to think about?

  The woman he’d fathered his baby girl with was gone. That twisted his heart. The tumultuous years he and Vangie had plowed through together and the countless times they should have called it quits for good rumbled around his soul. All the people they’d hurt. He knew better than to lay the blame solely at Vangie’s feet. At least she’d had the guts to be the one to leave in the end. Thank God she’d had the wits to return their daughter before she went and fucked herself up even worse. He’d let Vangie treat people he cared about like crap for so long but had done his best not to let Maryellie feel any of that. Now he had no idea what to say or do.

  His mind lost, a deep cough choked its way out his throat. The back of his head lobbed backward, hitting the house as he sat there on the bench. Never had he wished she’d die. Why couldn’t she just have gotten better? Why hadn’t she made it easier on one single person who would have cared to help her?

  “Damn you, Vangie,” he whispered to the lonely country. Grabbing at his hair, he slouched down onto the cold bench further, pissed she’d never come back and make it up to their daughter. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

  He needed something to hold. Against the cold, hard wall, he banged his head until the numbness went away and pain showed up in its place. He understood the years of crap he was owed to make up for the past but his daughter? What had she done to deserve this? Nothing. Nothing but be tied to him. Nobody should bear that fucked up fate. “I hate this shit,” he yelled out in a thundering roar. Let them all hear him. The real him.

  * * * *

  Lily could have sworn she’d heard something on the other side of the door. She’d already slipped into her coat to go look for Jaxon. He’d been gone a while now. Before heading out, she made sure Maryella was sleeping like a rock. All was well.

  There wasn’t much she could do about the ice cold rain pelting against the outside of the door. She was going out in it to find her man and apologize for not being more focused on them and their beautiful first night together. No doubt about it, she wanted him, and in her heart, wished everyone knew. Well, wished everyone was okay with the knowledge. But Jaxon was right, she shouldn’t worry about what anyone else thought. It wasn’t their business.

  She had it in mind to make a lightning quick beeline to the covered RV pull through on the far side of the driveway but found she didn’t need to go so far. Jaxon was sitting on the porch bench just off to the side from the door. Heat sizzled up her neck to her cheeks at the thought of him not having to stay out on the couch anymore.

  Until she looked more closely. He looked so cold with his bluish lips she just wanted to get him back in the house. Oh no, he was barefoot. He would freeze. After a few unanswered smiles, she reached her hand out to his cheek but he looked down. Weird because before he’d left, they’d been in the middle of something mind-blowing. At least it had felt that way for her.

  “Jaxon. Hey you.”

  He moved over on the bench, signaling he didn’t mind if she sat with him but he wasn’t going in yet. She huddled close to his side, hoping to avoid the rain’s splatter.

  “Hey. Where’ve you been? Fall asleep out here? You know the anti-Jaxon/Lily squad is all the way in Nashville. It sank in for me about five minutes ago; we don’t have to sneak around anymore,” she teased, excited to give him a…well what did she give the guy who just an hour ago had offered her a taste? And before that the best sex she’d ever experienced in her thirty-one years. A hug? A high-five? A lick? As she moved closer, she saw that there was no place for her humor. Something had come up and changed his red hot lust into ice cold blues.

  His proud and playful shoulders slumped which she’d never seen from him and he was gonna rub his forehead raw if he kept up with working the heel of his palm against it so roughly. It became obvious they weren’t picking up where they’d left off. “Hey, what’s going on?” she asked lightly and then dipped her head down low so she could try and see his face.

  “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

  “Okay. We don’t have to talk. I just was worried because you lef—”

  He silenced her with a single wounded look. The purplish circles she’d gotten used to under his eyes from the times she’d seen him perform with his guyliner were darker now from the shadows. He hadn’t worn any rocker stage make up since she’d personally gotten to know him but his hypnotizing teal blue eyes usually appeared rimmed with darkness. Suddenly, his face was right in hers. If he didn’t look so gone, she’d have smoothed her fingertips under his eyes and along his cheekbones in some kind of gesture. Something had definitely happened. He wasn’t talking so how could she know what was wrong?

  “Jaxon, you’re scaring me.” They were supposed to be working on this trust thing together.

  “You know I’d never hurt you,” he cut out a reply and then went back to squeezing his head between his palms. Somehow she sensed he meant more than physically. Like he was vowing something to her, the house, even the town.

  “Of course I know that.” As soon as she said it, his tension level seemed to draw down but not completely.

  “How’s my Maryellie?” he asked, sounding so far out of touch.

  “Still zonked outright next door to our room. She’s okay, I promise.” Yes, she’d emphasized our on purpose, surprising herself.

  The black shirt he wore looked like it was bothering him, or it could be that everything was bothering him right now. He stood up and tugged at the sleeves and kept his eyes just about everywhere except focused on her. Harder than a steel boxing glove, reality punched her in the gut and it tugged her heart down with it to
drown.

  “Jaxon, you changed your mind about us, right? This, whatever all this is, it’s not necessary.” She made to leave but he caught her arm tight. She was about to shrug free from his hold and obvious guilt at having led her on when she saw him choking for air. “Jaxon, just breathe. Tell me what’s wrong. ”

  “Maryellie’s mum called.” He licked the moisture running from his nose down to his lips and then wiped the rest away with the back of his hand.

  “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. You talked to her?”

  “No. Mrs. Acosta,” he said, seeming to have a difficult time acknowledging that name. It must be Vangie’s mother. He looked to the sky like life was a complete mystery to him. “I’ve been so out of my mind that she’d show back up someday. That I’d finally get my shit straightened out and be doing good for baby girl and then she’d show up and turn it to hell. Well, she died today.”

  Lily’s hand flew first to cover her mouth and next to soothe the splitting headache he looked to be dying under. “I’m so sorry.” She felt like a first-rate, stuttering idiot but one who wanted to get him inside the warm house. She knew all about having to live on antacids because of the fear your ugly past would mutilate your pretty new fresh start. Not like this though. It was obvious he’d been rocked by the call.

  “Hey, why don’t we go check on Maryella?” Lily put her hand on the doorknob and waited. It took a few seconds, but he turned to her with his hand over hers. Unfortunately, she could imagine what he was going through, barely keeping ahead of his past.

  His eyes darted to the side, reminding her of a tough guy who didn’t want to ask or answer for anything. He took a few moments but finally responded. It was both a surprising yet expected response from her boyfriend who was hurting. “Lily, fuck—”