Revved Up Soul: A MC Romance

by Lorde, Liz K.

  “Wow,” she scoffed. “So when I turn eighteen I can just go and screw the first idiota to flash his cock at me?”

  White-hot anger snaked up Jasmine’s spine in an instant and she shot up to her feet, glaring at the young girl and stalking up a couple of inches towards her. “Don’t you dare,” venom dripped her from tongue, she could see the fear behind Alejandra’s eyes; she put her hands behind her back and scooted back on the bed several inches. “You know this much about life, Alejandra,” Jasmine pinched air between her index and thumb. “If this keeps happening you’ll be lucky if you just end up in Juvy,” she had always tried to take the soft and understanding approach with the girl, letting her foster parents give the whip so to speak.

  Alejandra’s eyes gleamed with water and she froze in her place.

  Jasmine’s lips clamped tightly together, only just realizing that her hand was wound into a tight ball. “You’re going to piss your whole life away – what little you’re going to have left of it – and I’m not okay with that. If you want to see me again, you call me when you’ve had the time to think things over.” Jasmine shook her head, wanting to stay, but storming off – slamming the door behind her and glancing with the dagger behind her at Alejandra’s foster parents.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jasmine

  Just getting home, Jasmine turned the lock on her front door and looked at the recent call that she missed; she had gotten it during her call to St.Augustine. Alejandra, but no voicemail. The hour was nearing eleven now and her feet were terribly sore.

  Her heart even more so.

  Jasmine wished not to have more days like today. She slipped off her shoes and meticulously placed them in the little shoe cubby by her door; taking off her coat and hanging it on the rack before padding over to the couch, too tired to take off any more of her clothes. Still have to shower. It sounded amazing – but it was so far she questioned if she would be able to make it.

  Letting herself fall down onto the couch, a wave of relief filled her body and everything seemed to fade away. The image of Luke’s brown and blue eyes penetrated her mind, a tight knot forming in her chest and a golf sized ball of need made itself known between her legs. She had been made so wet from earlier in the day, Jasmine figured she would have to throw them away. Her senses lit up when she thought back on the hardness of Luke’s cock pressing up against her stomach in the stairwell, the taste of his warm and moist lips against her own – the way he caressed her neck with little affections and bites.

  She needed him, she needed all of him. It was impossible to deny, her heart wouldn’t let her – her mind would not let go of him and her body burned at the slightest mention of him. Her nipples stiffened into hardened nubs in anticipation of calling him.

  Jasmine had called St.Augustine and pulled up the information on Luke Reynolds – she knew it wasn’t the most morally respectable thing to do. In fact, it was quite a bit stalkerish … it was definitely stalking. Oh god she’d actually sunk low enough to stalk a man, hells bells. She flicked her fingers across the screen of her smartphone, landing on Luke’s contact number – Jasmine waited in silence for what seemed like hours, but in truth were only a couple of excruciating, long minutes of nervousness.

  When the pressure in her chest was finally too much to bear, she pressed the call button and brought the phone to her ear. Come on, pick up you sexy asshole – you know you want to. Don’t make a girl have to take care of herself alone, Jasmine slowly sent a hand down to her crotch and cupped it tight – feeling the heat of her sex. It was warm and wanting.

  Finally a voice came from the other end, low and puzzled. “Hello?” Luke’s voice shot another hot rod of need through her body. “Who is this?” She could make out the sound of water in the back.

  “Who do you think, cowboy.”

  “… Jasmine?” He laughed low and dark, “Oh doctor Giuseppe, you clever girl, how did you …”

  “You have your ways, I have mine,” she purred. “Figured it was time I had your real number anyway. But here’s what really matters: I miss you,” her breath hitched in her throat, “and I—I have something, a problem,” she rubbed carefully her sex through the fabric of her pants and underwear, “that only you can take care of.”

  There was a moment of heated silence between the two, as Jasmine could only presume Luke’s mind turned as it quickly came to figure out her so called ‘problem’. “Jas …” he said, a hint of sorrow in his voice.

  “Come on,” she pursued, letting her fingers wander between her legs – the ends of her stiff nipples pulsing with delight. “Just tell me you missed me,” she mewled, “a very special part of me is missing you really bad right now.”

  She could hear the man suck in a tight, hot breath over the line. He won’t last long, just needs a couple more pushes.

  “Think about me baby,” she said, undoing her slacks and slipping a hand inside of her damp black panties. She felt dirty and dark and wild with lust. “My pussy can’t stop thinking about your cock,” a breath escaped Jasmine as her fingers traced the lines of her wet womanhood. “Luke …”

  “Fffuck,” the man crooned, “I’ve needed your mouth all day,” he confessed. “I just couldn’t get enough of your lips and your neck: I want to mark you.”

  “Yes,” she whimpered, feeding a finger inside of her sex and shifted against the length of the couch.

  “I’m gonna mark the fuck out of you,” Luke growled. She’d never seen this side of him before. I have to see more, she thought, dark waves of lust cascading against her over and over again. “Every man is going to know that you’re mine,” he let out a moan; she could picture him just stroking his hardness.

  Jasmine pushed another finger inside of her greedy slit, “God yes,” she breathed, “I need that. I need to feel you deep inside of me.”

  Luke grunted and groaned, the sound of rhythmic stroking motions barely audible. “This cock is going to stir your insides up,” he threatened, “I’m going to grab a fistful of your hair one day, when the stairs are empty and your shift is almost done,” he continued to pump away at his beautiful hardness. Jasmine could only imagine him in all his chiseled, naked glory – remembering the way that he looked half a god in her shower before. Little pinpricks of bliss danced across her body as she listened to his sinful words. “Then I’m going to take a knife to your panties – cut a hole in ‘em and fuck you senseless.”

  Christ, just talking about it was enough to send her dangerously close to the edge of orgasm. She could hear her fingers making a schlicking noise as they slid in and out of her wetness freely, the tightness of her walls gripping her soaked fingers, not wanting to let go. If only it was his big hard cock, Jasmine thought, her mind becoming lost in a lustful haze – a series of whimpers escaping her. She had to bite down on her lip hard just to compose herself.

  Jasmine begged, “Please.” “Please Luke, I need to hear you – I have to—fuck,” she brought her drenched fingers over to her swollen clit and circled it, pulses of intense pleasure coursing through her. It felt like her blood was more of a fiery sludge now, bliss blooming against the crown of her head. “I have to hear you come for me. Come for me,” she pleaded.

  His every word was dripping with sin, his every animalistic noise telling of the lust deep in his bones. Jasmine could get addicted to hearing those cries, could get lost in the pull that was Luke – if he was a burning star, she was just the helpless moon that orbited his alluring gravity. “I’m close baby,” he warned, a pulse shooting through Jasmine at hearing that word, “I can’t stop thinking about shooting myself all over your beautiful tits,” the man confessed.

  “Anywhere,” Jasmine breathed, letting out a hard and exasperated moan as she played with her soaked little clit. “I’ll let you come on me anywhere.”

  And in one hot, beautiful moment – the both of them went over that precarious edge together, their moans and cries chorusing together; the sweet release shooting throughout Jasmine’s entire body, her muscl
es contracting and letting go – her head pushing back against the couch and her toes curling up by themselves. For a second, it was heaven on earth. Her pussy felt good, really good. Her nipples ached dull but delightfully, and her bones drank deep the waters of ecstasy – a long, deep, drawn out sigh of relief leaving her lips.

  Jasmine brought her fingers up to her face and eyed them with wonder. It’d been such a long time since she’d came that hard. She played with the sticky little bridges of pale, clear love juice. She then let out a purr into the phone and inserted those wet fingers into her mouth, loudly sucking them so that Luke could hear loud and clear – she only wished it was his exquisite and thick cock, instead of her delicate little fingers. “Mmm,” she gave them one last suck, “that could be you,” she teased, a twinge of happiness pressing against her heart.

  Luke was still catching his breath on the other end. “That was …” the words hung a couple heartbeats, “incredible.”

  “Yeah it was,” she agreed. She wanted to ask him to come over now and feel the real deal, but something inside of her refused to let the words leave her lips.

  Harsh wind sounded through the other end, was he okay?

  Jasmine turned on the couch, “You okay?”

  The answer came suspiciously late, “Yeah. It’s just, after what happened today – it’s been making me think.”

  “What happened?”

  Luke clicked his tongue. “I shouldn’t say.”

  “Tell me,” Jasmine pressed, a couple of seconds passing between the two.

  “Things went all to shit today,” he revealed, “one of the Knights got stupid and greedy and when it all happened I saw your eyes, Jasmine. It just, it just got me thinking alright?” The whip was in the man’s voice, each stroke a punishing blow to Jasmine’s gut. “About us, about what it would mean if we were to get into a relationship.”

  Luke’s words stung and hot pricks formed beneath Jasmine’s eye. “What I feel for you is …” Jasmine found it difficult to wait; she wished that he would find his point. “It’s deep,” he acknowledged. “But you’re not ready for what The Life brings,” he said pointedly, “and you shouldn’t have to be. After what happened today, I just – I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt, Jas.”

  Anger swelled deep within her breast, sitting up on the couch now. “I’m not some kid,” she hissed, “so don’t sugar coat it. I don’t need to be worried about, whatever goes down in your life – whatever happens? I want to know. And I want you to feel the same.” Her body felt heavy for all the wrong reasons, and her tongue felt swollen by sorrow’s favorite song.

  “I can’t put you in that danger,” Luke’s voice was thick with turmoil. “I just can’t – I want to be with you, but not when I know it’s just going to end up hurting your life. You have a good life,” he offered, “a normal one. I don’t.”

  Twin fiery serpents worked their way up Jasmine’s spine and her heart tapped quicker against her breastbone. She hardly noticed the warm, heavy drop that rolled down her face. “Save your breath,” she said, cold as the abyss. She knew this dance. “Because I can’t be with a coward.”

  Jasmine clicked off the phone and sunk back into the couch, the mirror maze that was her world shattering beneath the weight of her own poisonous words.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Augustus

  He hated it, because it reminded him of what was lost – the rain came down in a hard pour against Augustus’ roof. His eyes flicked from one end of the letter to the other, the parchment being lit up by the soft orange glow of the fireplace. It cracked and spat out a couple of angry embers as his phone vibrated, the embers slipping through the black iron of the grate.

  Mouth feeling dry, he licked his lips. It did nothing. The maroon cotton blanket coiled around his person haphazardly was equally ineffective in accomplishing its task.

  Augustus’ body glistened with perspiration, beads of sweat rolling down his person.

  Bones drinking in deep a sadness, Augustus felt the stinging kiss of tears behind his eyes – why did it have to rain again so soon? Where did it all go so damn wrong, so wrong it’s all wrong. His face screwed up, becoming hard lines, curtained by shadow and fiery light. Augustus reached for his tumbler and brought it to his lips, letting a smidgeon of the hard scotch enter his mouth.

  Puh-lease, just toss it. Just, just get rid of it. His eyes stung as he got down to the last paragraph. I can’t read it anymore, but he did, and when he reached the end and the pain swelled to another new height, he began again. Two green eyes swam through his mind’s eye, catching a glimpse of that girl’s sun kissed skin – he felt his heart tug then, and removed the image from his head, closing his eyes. Augustus took a deep breath; an ache that was bone deep resonated throughout the whole of the man’s body. Not enough scotch in this world to make this go away – just go away, just go away. Another buzz.

  Go away go away go away! His hand tightened against the glass and his lips pressed hard against one another – the ache against his muscles intensifying and the hurt in his heart deepening.

  He downed all but the last drops of his scotch.

  The fury roiling in him, Augustus shot up from his chair and yelled an obscenity – shooting the glass at the fireplace; the pit bloomed with a greedy acceptance, the fires stretching and spreading like devil’s wings breaking free. “Come on!” He shouted, shards of glass scattering against the dark mahogany floor boards of his study.

  His head throbbed in pain; he craned his head back and looked up to the sky. He put his hands on his head, pressing tightly against his red and silver curls; moments passed in the killing silence that was his hour of despair, eyes searching hopelessly up at the ceiling – thin globules of water forming and making it hard to not blink.

  Why? He asked, and it repeated in his mind a dozen times – plaintive and hopeful for an answer, a hand crushing the black spot where his heart should have been. “Why’d you do it,” he murmured, trying to ignore how cold his body was – like he was drenched and told to go play in the snow by himself again while his brother would hang out inside with all the cool kids. Augustus thought that he had forgotten that.

  “You were always too busy for me,” his voice cracked and his hands tightened up into balls so hard he thought his nails might break skin. It hurt him deep to admit to his own hypocrisy, “I just thought you were too busy for me – cause you were looking out for her.”

  God, or at least the concept of it, was just a sadist: his theater the world; the people’s sorrows his great play.

  There was a loud pounding noise at his door, his body jerking at the sound – his head snapped to face were it was coming from. Rolls of heat cascaded against his body, his hairs subtly coming to a stand. Augustus waited in imperfect stillness.

  The knocks came again.

  He snarled, “Get lost!” It hurt his voice to speak so loud.

  A familiar voice called back to him, but his mind could not acknowledge it as real. Augustus strode from his study to the living room of his modest little home, peering through the eyehole to see her. He unlatched the locks on his door and swung it open, the full and thunderous applause of rain greeting him.

  Jasmine’s drenched blouse clung to her, with her raven hair nothing more than a soaked mop that obscured most of her face. Aside from those big green eyes.

  Augustus brought out an arm and pulled the girl inside, his heart jumping up into his throat when her sweet lips found his.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Kayla

  It was always so painful not hearing from Luke, why couldn’t he just call me? I was always the one having to contact him. Kayla tossed the pill in her hand up into the air, catching it with her mouth – she liked to make games out of everything. She pumped her fist, skin white as ivory, and walked over lackadaisically to the master bedroom. The apartment, in which she and Luke Reynolds lived, was wildly lavish – all modern white and black and polished to a perfect shine. Then again, if it wasn’t
, Kayla Rochester would make certain that daddy Rochester was made aware – not that she had to run to her father, she was more than capable of problem solving on her own.

  The world started to feel heavy, but in a good way – it was nice for things to slow down. That was why she took her ‘medication’. Kayla opened the door and walked inside the master bedroom, running her long fingers through her red pixie style hair – scratching an itch.

  She felt a pang deep in her chest. It’s already so late, where the hell are you? She let out a breath, hoping she might expel all the simmering anger below. She passingly wondered why Audacity had kept crashing for her earlier in the day; making a mental note to ask some of her online friends about the issue.

  Trying to extinguish the anger below never seemed to work. The bed itself was queen sized, shades of gray with four regal posts that reached for the ceiling; the floor a pristine white made of natural stone, adorned with black and grey flecks. She caught her reflection from the corner of her eye when she looked down to the end table on her side of the bed. Kayla had what most men would call cold cloudy morning eyes. She just saw them as blue.

  Her heart tapped against her breastbone, warmth pulsing through her sluggish body – it felt like Randy was on her again, pushing her down by the shoulders; a sickness spread through her and the corner of her mouth downturned.

  Disgusting, subhuman scum.

  Kayla reached her fingers towards the music box, electricity dancing between the ends of her digits and the item. It was a simple box, no larger than both of her hands put together, its wood a rich, luscious brown with natural age rings and other marks adorning it. It was cut in the shape of a small chest, with a keyhole and a golden plate around said hole – of course there was no key for it, that was just for show. Kayla pressed her finger against the hole and willed herself to lift it. It was if a hundred little voices in her mind chorused in darkly dulcet tones, was it wrong? If it was then, why did it feel so good? Besides, it had to happen.