“Sive, calm down,” a male’s husky voice whispers into my ear.
I like that voice. It soothes me and makes me feel safe. My throat is dry and a furious thirst tears its way to my awareness. A thumb glides over my lower lip and my upper body drifts up, supported by somebody’s strong arm.
“Drink some water,” the voice says.
I know that voice but I can’t picture the face. More of the wet coldness invades my body as I sip the water. A few drops trickle down my chin. The thumb wipes my chin, rubs the moisture on my lips, then slides into my mouth so I bite on it.
“Sive, you are so naughty.”
Aren’t I? This thumb in my mouth is naughty. The scorching breath of that mysterious man is naughty as it merges with mine and those hot lips of his are naughty as they touch urgently mine, making the blood in my veins boil. Making my nipples harden. Making my tummy pulsate. I feel a tongue thrusting into my mouth. It opens my mouth wider and tastes me fiercely. I gulp, but this tongue invades me without mercy, strokes mine and sends me into shivers.
Who are you? I can’t open my eyes, but I sense that the man is holding me in his embrace. I can’t breathe, but this is because his mouth is covering mine.
Everything is dense around me, dark, and hot. A thought wavers in my head like a warning. Owen did that to me. He kissed me. I’m scared to death again. It must be Owen. Panic sprouts in my stomach, then goes up to my throat and turns into a cry. The kiss breaks.
“I’m sorry, baby,” the voice whispers into my ear. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I call the only person I decided to trust. I call Axel.
“I’m here, Sive. You are safe. Sleep, my little mermaid.”
Somebody’s knuckles run down my face and along my neck, stopping on my breast. A fingertip circles around my nipple, strokes it, sending a tingle across my skin, but it’s like I feel it and I don’t. Like I’m in a dream; everything is blurry and slow.
“Sleep Sive,” the voice rasps into my ear, a hot breath puffing into my neck. Teeth scratching my earlobe. “Sleep, baby. I will look after you.”
So I sleep.
A sharp noise wrenches me out of my sleep—rasping, hammering, and shouts. Light floods the bedroom through two sash windows, four wide streaks enthralling the dance of dust. Sweat trickles down my temples and a wave of massive hangover hits me like a gust of the wind. I retch and cover my mouth with the back of my hand.
I remember that Axel took the t-shirt off me and changed the bedding. Then everything is like a black oblivion.
He saw me naked. Embarrassment rolls over me. I want to vanish, but before I find out how to do this, I have to face the embarrassing reality. I’m naked, sitting in a man’s bed, and I have nowhere else to go. I can’t afford to be embarrassed, in fact.
My eyes roam over the bedroom. A white wardrobe leans against the red-bricked wall and two metal pillars support the roof. An antique armchair sinks under the layers of female clothes. I think they are for me. The nightdress would be more suitable for a wedding night, but I’m not going to be fussy.
I crawl out of the bed and stagger towards the armchair. A wave of drowsiness hits me hard as my hand clutches the nightdress. I sit down on the wooden floor and wait until my nausea and the blackness in front of my eyes go away. Then I pull the nightdress on and open the box with underwear. The panties are even worse than the nightdress, absolutely indecent.
“Hungry?” It’s Axel’s voice coming from behind me.
I shudder as my chest twists and my glance travels to him. He is standing in the doorway, wearing only his jeans and boots, black grease marking his chest tattoos and his face. The smell of the garage drifts to me.
“How are you feeling, Sive?”
There is a strange disconnection between his dark threatening glance as though he is angry with me and his soothing voice.
I notice more details about his appearance. Scars mark his broad chest, a lot of them, thick and thin, long and short, round and uneven. He looks so massive compared to me, so primal that I feel like a fly surrounded by the Alaskan wilderness.
I correct my panties in a disgraceful sitting position and pull down the edge of the nightdress. I feel like I’m still naked. The front of the nightdress has lacy details and the back does not exist.
“Do you want to go to the bathroom?” Axel asks.
I bob my head at him. He pulls forward, leans over me, hooks me under my arms with his dirty hands and lifts me up like a child. My arms and thighs wrap around him and my chest slides against the grease on his. The unique smell of the garage invades my nostrils. I clutch his shoulders and lean slightly backwards.
“I’m dirty,” Axel says. “And now, you are dirty too.”
He doesn’t move and I wonder why. His palm grips the back of my neck and he looks into my eyes.
“Why did you cry?” he asks in a sharp voice, his eyes burning fiercely.
“I-I ddidn’tt.”
“You don’t remember?”
I shake my head. His face softens and he smirks at me then moves towards the stairs.
“I will check on you every hour,” he says, “there is a lot of work in the garage and I can’t stay with you all the time.”
“O-kay.”
“You can watch TV or stay in bed.”
We stop in front of the bathroom door and he lets me slide down to the floor. The grease covers my body in patches and my skin smells of the garage.
I visit the toilet, fighting my dizziness, and Axel captures me into his arms as soon as I step out of the bathroom. He lays me on the couch, covers me with a blanket, then goes to the kitchen and pours me a glass of orange juice.
“A-xel,” I say as I sit up, drawing the shape of the bag in the air with my hands.
“What do you need, baby?” He hands the glass to me.
“Mmy—“
“Your bag?”
I’m so frustrated with my poor speech that tears well up in my eyes.
“It’s not a problem,” Axel says and lays his palms on my head. “I just need to learn how to sign.” He goes behind the couch and brings me my bag, sitting beside me.
The couch is so dirty that he will have to buy another.
I empty the glass in three sips and place the bag on my lap, digging my hand into the internal zipper pocket. My fingers close around the roll of cash. I take it out and attempt to hand it to Axel.
“I don’t want any money from you,” Axel says. “Stay here for while. You can clean the house from time to time or cook something for me in return. Deal?”
It sounds sensible to me so I nod at him and throw the money into the bag. Axel goes to the kitchen and prepares two slices of toast with jam for me.
“I will go to the garage now,” he says, “and I’ll bring lunch for you in an hour or two.” He leaves his phone on the coffee table. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“I’mm nott dy-ingg.”
He kneels in front of me and put his palms on my outer thighs. “You just don’t climb the stairs, okay?”
“O-kay, A-xel.”
“Say my name again.”
“A-xel.” I gasp convulsively and tilt my head, clenching my fists. “A-xel.”
He chuckles, strokes my hair, then backs up and leaves the house. I wolf down the slices of toast and go to the bathroom to have a shower. Then I attempt to clean the couch, but the black stains are stubborn and refuse to go away.
Chapter 9
Axel
I call her after fifteen minutes, but she doesn’t answer the phone.
“I will be back in five minutes,” I shout to Dash.
Gunner straightens from underneath the hood of a car. “You have just checked on her.”
“She isn’t answering the phone,” I growl.
“Maybe she is tired with your constant attention,” Zane says as he manipulates the tyre of a bike.
Blaze tumbles into the garage and waves his big hand at us. Boulder comes right be
hind him.
“What are you two looking for here?” I ask with anger.
“We want to see her,” Blaze says.
“No fucking way,” I say and rush to the exit.
The noises in the garage fade and I look over my shoulder. The boys follow me in a queue like I’m a hearse and they are the funeral attendants.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I growl and the boys guffaw.
Boulder catches up with me. “Mother will be here later in the afternoon. Clean up the house.”
“It is clean,” I say as we approach the front door of my house.
We enter the house and Sive sits up in the couch, wrapping the blanket up around herself. Her hair is damp and wet footprints mark the way from the bathroom door to the couch.
“You didn’t answer the phone,” I rasp.
The rest of the boys tumble into the house and they surround her like flies would fly around the bin.
“So-rry, A-xel.”
Boulder’s expression softens and he looks like a fucking saint. He shakes hands with Sive and introduces himself to her. Blaze does the same and the rest of the boys crowd around her to squeeze her hand as well. Dash can’t take his eyes off her. He looks like a bear that has noticed a jar of honey.
“Get out,” I say. “Now. The show is over.”
“You go,” Blaze says. “And we will look after that sweet little mermaid.”
The boys’ laughter tears at the air, and Sive covers her ears with her palms. Her tired face turns white and she starts panting. It looks like something is far too much for her. I elbow my way towards the couch, sit beside her and plant her on my lap. My arms entwine her chest and I push her cheek against my heart area. She curls into my embrace like a scared little animal seeking a hideout.
“Get out,” I say. “She hasn’t recovered enough to deal with such a crude horde of Neanderthals. An old person would have a heart attack at the sight of you all.”
Boulder gestures for the boys to leave the house and they evacuate themselves in silence one by one. Only Zane remains by the coffee table.
“What is it baby?” I ask and stroke Sive’s head.
She gasps and her body shivers against mine so I draw her even closer to me.
“She has a panic attack,” Zane says.
“How do you know that, you pundit?” I bark.
“Did you even ask her what happened in her life?” Zane rasps. “Or you’re just going to dress her in those lacy scraps of fabric?”
“She’s unwell, Zane. And you should get back to work.”
“She needs proper care—“
“Get back to work.”
“If you hurt her, Axel—“
“Get back to work, Zane.”
My brother growls with fury, backs up and leaves the house. Sive weeps into my chest. The blanket slides down onto the floor and heat rushes to my cock. A beautiful chick wearing only a nightdress is sitting on my lap and seeking safety in my arms. A few patches of grease dot her skin but it turns me on even more.
“That’s okay, Sive,” I say. “The boys are so ugly that I’m sometimes scared of them too.”
Sive giggles and raises her eyes to mine. She exhales with a loud vibratory sound, and her body stops trembling. My whole skin tingles at the sensation of her softness. Her scent makes my mind hazy.
My palm grips her waist and I stop thinking rationally. I grind her bottom against my hard on and wind her hair around my fist, pulling it down. Her eyes widen and her lips part as I plant a kiss on her throat, graze her chin then cover her mouth with mine.
It’s not right, but I can’t stop. My tongue forces its way into her mouth and she moans softly. She tastes of mint and orange juice. Her mouth opens wider and her body becomes taut but it only makes me more insane. I want to devour her all. My mouth moves down to her neck and I bite it lightly. Sive shivers in my arms; her body softens and melts into mine. I feel her palms on my shoulders, fingers digging in my flesh as I kiss her neck harder and mark her skin with my teeth. It’s madness—her convulsive sweet gasps, her whimpers and her moans. Fuck. I’ve never heard anything more arousing. Her palms run up my neck to either side of my face, tasting me like she is an excited blind child.
My mouth searches for hers again, and she allows me to explore her as her tongue shyly touches mine.
I grip her hips and lift her so she can straddle my lap. Our kiss doesn’t break though. Her thighs wrap around my waist and her fingers sink into my hair. Her touch is delicate, timid but full of power. Her power over me.
It’s like that one moment in my life when I stood on the beach and watched the fury of the ocean. The wind whipped my body and threatened me. The rumble of waves deafened me. The primeval energy of nature invaded my soul, connected me to something mystical and beyond my human understanding.
This connection with Sive now is even more wild and powerful. She separates her mouth from mine, takes a rapid breath and looks at me with blazing eyes. There is hunger in her gaze as primal as mine is. It contradicts the innocence of her face, waking an animal in me.
My hand slips between her thighs and goes up to the heat of her pussy, but she grips my wrist and takes my hand off her.
“Did that evil man hurt you?” I rasp and she nods. “Did he rape you?”
Coldness runs through my veins as I await her answer.
“Nno,” Sive says and touches her lips with her fingertips.
“He kissed you and you didn’t like it?”
She bobs her head at me.
“But you like it when I’m kissing you?” I ask gently.
“A-xel,” she hums and closes her eyes.
Her beautiful lips curl into a smile so I crush them with mine and palm her breast. Sive squirms on my lap.
“What is it, baby?” I ask. “You don’t like it?”
She chuckles. “A-xel.”
My fingers pinch her nipple and she gasps, bending her neck back, then looks into my eyes and shoves my hand away.
“Why not?” I ask.
I’m getting insane, but something cold brushes my mind. She is young and disabled, kisses like a fourteen-year-old, and blushes each time I’m around her.
“Have you ever been with a man, Sive?”
Her face turns bright red, and she shakes her head. Her fingers roll into fists. I have my answer.
It’s like somebody has poured a bucket of cold water over my head. My mind clears in an instant.
Men like me don’t touch chicks like her; they don’t fuck them and don’t hurt them. I can’t do this to her. She deserves to be treated like a little princess, to be loved and adored. She deserves normalcy and I’m unable to give that to her.
“Sive,” I say in a firm voice and her faces winces. “We can’t do this. Do you understand? You should stay away from me.”
She moves away and curls into the couch, sitting on her heels.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s not about you. I’m a bad man, ya know. I won’t touch you again; I promise.”
“Hy-ppo-crite.”
“What?”
“Hy-ppo-crite.”
The sound of the front door creaking open startles her and we both turn our heads towards a person striding over to us. It’s Ma.
“Ma, what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” Ma sucks in a breath. “I’m your mother. I’m here to be your mother.”
She approaches the couch, glances at Sive and presses the back of her hand against her forehead. Sive freezes at Ma’s touch.
“There is no fever,” Ma says and her eyes roam over the greasy smudges on my chest and the black stains on the couch.
Her glance travels to Sive and she shakes her head.
“Did you feed her?” Ma asks and strokes Sive’s head.
“Ma, I’m a grown up man. I know what to do.”
Ma tries to remove a greasy dot on Sive’s cheek with her thumb. “Really?”
I rise to my feet and lift my hands in a war
ding gesture. “Can you look after her until I finish in the garage?”
“Go,” Ma says. “I will feed her, bath her and dress her in some decent clothes.” She shoots me a furious glance. “She’s eighteen, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“And you are saying you are a grown up man?” Ma says and leans towards Sive. “I’m Amanda.”
“I-I amm Sive.” Sive raises her hand and Ma squeezes it with hers.
Ma turns her face towards me and wipes away a tear leaking from her eye. “Go.” I can see she is really pissed off with me.
I walk towards the front door and feel like I’ve perpetrated a mortal sin, like I have the conscience of a saint.
Chapter 10
Sive
He kissed me. No—
He devoured me like I was his favourite food and he hadn’t eaten for three days. And I allowed him to kiss me.
I loved the way he touched me, but panic paralysed me and suddenly it was too much for me to bear.
Then he left me mortified. I’m not surprised that he didn’t want me. Who wants a cripple without any experience in bed?
I feel like an old unwanted toy. Like a lower being. Like I’m a disgrace to the female race.
I watch Amanda. She seems to be a tough woman but she is nice to me. I’m a bit scared of her so I obey her commands without any objection.
Zane looks almost like her, but her hair has a vibrant auburn colour and grey roots. She is slim and tall. A jeans skirt shows off her long legs and a chequered sleeveless shirt exposes her inked muscular arms.
She cooks lunch for me, inspects the quality of my shower and picks up a dress for me. Then I sit at the kitchen table, eating my meal, and she untangles my damp hair. It hurts, but I don’t emit a single groan. Amanda puts the hairbrush on the table and makes a braid of my hair, then inspects the bruise on my forehead.
“Any headaches?” she asks.
I shake my head.
“Dizziness?” she continues. “Nausea?”
“Nno.”
“You want my son?” She lays her hand on my shoulder.
My eyebrows arch and I freeze. I don’t want him. He’s just humiliated me and my insides are still burning like there is a real fire inside me. I don’t encourage him to touch me even though I want that badly. The truth is that he does to me whatever he fancies to do.
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