by Liz K. Lorde
The door creaked open, and my heart plummeted like a molten stone.
Oh fuck.
In that moment, I truly wondered if I was being universally rewarded for trying to set myself on the straight and narrow path. Sweet drowning-in-my-panties baby Jesus. If there was ever a holy sight…I had to try and hopelessly gulp away the pebble that locked itself in my throat. You wouldn’t even have to drag my rebellious ass to church every Sunday for a body like Gabriel’s.
He had a towel over his face as he swaggered out in pure confidence. Every step, every stride that man took, he owned it all. Gabriel continued to work out the wetness of his chocolate hair, leaving his hard muscled abs for me to feast on.
In that moment. He owned me.
There wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it, and I loathed myself for it. It was like lightning shooting through my veins, giving me a high more pure and consuming than anything Damien ever coerced me to smoke.
Every muscle in my body tightened, and I felt like a deer in the headlights. I knew that I shouldn’t stare, but knowing and doing were two very different things – and right now, there was nothing more that I wanted to do than drink in my hardass, tatted up savior. Gabriel was moving through the living room now, and making his way over to the kitchen. From this, I caught a good hard look at the colorful tattoos that graced his sculpted pecs. Fiery reds in wicked lettering spelled out ‘STEEL KNIGHTS’ from one end of his body, to the other. Cool and luscious blues trailed down from his chest to his ripped abs of drool worthy muscles; they came together, twining along, and a heartbeat later my mind registered them as some kind of snakes.
Tantalizing yellow was splayed along his hips, depicting a host of black-eyed demons. Some text was woven amongst them, which could be read as: Fuck Death.
As my pussy came to a scorching heat, and I finally remembered how to breathe – there was a jolt of laughter that threatened to run through me. He had walked right fucking past me, and now I was getting a good shot of the upper part of his pert ass.
And when he stopped in his tracks, so too, did my heart stop in my chest.
I’d been eyefucking him like he was the last, most delicious piece of man in a world gone cold. Fingers of salacious heat glided up my body and over my breasts, kissing at the ends of my nipples and giving me little blooms of euphoria.
He turned casually and, disappointingly, only ripped off the towel that covered his head – looking hard at me with those deep, rich caramel eyes. I withered beneath his smoldering gaze, this unseen, impaling blade of need connecting the two of us. It was a beautifully serene moment of awkwardness, lust, and feeling too damn good.
Naturally, to break said awkwardness, I raised up a hand and delicately wiggled my fingers, clearing my throat once before chirping out, in a shrill voice, “Hi.”
Gabriel’s eyes worked their way all along my body, leaving trails of fire everywhere they touched. “Morning,” he gruffed, and then tossed the head towel on to the kitchen’s petite dining table. “You gonna stare all day, sugar?” His wondrous lips curled into that familiar, devilish smirk, before stepping to the fridge.
Rather be staring without that cloth guarding your cock, “I might,” I quipped, shaking off my nerves – but getting nowhere with removing the sexual need and attraction that soaked my bones. “You know you were a royal asshole last night.”
“I’m an asshole every night,” Gabriel winked, opened the fridge, and picked up a carton of milk, tilting his head back. Ugh, gross. Only a barbarian would get aroused…from watching…that Adam’s apple bob with every swallow; fuck, why does he have to be illegal levels of hot? He closed the fridge and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sauntering his way closer to me – the even darker from the water hair, dancing along his shoulders with each step.
Feeling embarrassed, and like my cheeks were probably going red, I loosed a hard breath through my nose and sat down. I tried very, very hard to keep my eyes from spying looks his way, but what was a girl to do given a situation like this?
Gabriel tilted his head and gave me a demure look, “You can look,” he growled, “so long as you keep your hands to yourself.” His eyes flicked over my breasts, leaving trails of warmth where they went, “how’re you feelin’ this morning?”
I turned my head away from him and crossed my legs, trying to ignore the heat that persisted there. “I’m okay right now,” I admitted, but a cold, familiar fire, was already working its way through my bloodstream. “Been off of since yesterday morning,” I continued, “so now’s your last chance to bail if you’re not cool with this…messed up partnership.”
Gabriel scoffed and sat down beside me. His presence tightened its electric grip over me. “This?” He said, pointing back and forth between us, “this is messed up, having to babysit you through this.” Those words cut right through me, and I shot him a hard glare. “Partnership would be the last word I’d use to describe us,” his country accent washed over me, and he sank back into the couch.
“Yeah, well, I guess Jasmine screwed us both,” I couldn’t hide my apparent grumpiness. We sat in relative silence for a spell, and every now and again, I would spy looks at the biker. Demanding that I pay attention to it, my stomach rumbled with need. “So, I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry. We should do something before I bottom out.”
“Church,” he crowed, and then cracked his huge knuckles.
“Church?”
“Preach it,” he leaned his head over to me, “as in yes. I’ll fix us some grub.” He picked himself up from the couch, giving me another view of his backside. “You do eat, don’t you?”
I scrunched up my face and moved to the other end of the couch, leaning over it to watch him. “I do.”
“Must all go to your tits,” Gabriel swung open the fridge and brought out a carton of eggs; some bacon, bread from the counter, and a block of cheddar.
I could feel my face blushing. Damn him. “Are you for real, right now.”
“What?”
“You’re going to cook like that?”
Gabriel flicked on his stove pilot, a greedy jet of fire swelling. “Figured you’d be happier if I did,” he said, “seeing as how you won’t peel your eyes off of me.”
It would take superhuman levels of strength to do that…
14
Gabriel
It was becoming a struggle not to get hard around this beautiful girl. She may be a junkie…and fuck if I didn’t feel a pang of guilt for still thinking that; but damn if she wasn’t a rocking, if not young, Goddess. So I cooked us breakfast, and we sat down at the couch. Let her have free reign of the TV for now, and no matter how much I protested or proceeded to steal the controller from her; Madeline insisted on watching The Price Is Right.
Even for a hardass like me, I had to admit, the morning wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Plus, I’d used to watch the show when I was growing up – though not every memory associated with it, was a good one. Still got flashbacks to Rochester, and the way he worked me like a dog beneath the sweltering sun.
That was when I figured out just how perceptive this little rock princess was. She actually picked up on it. On whatever ‘it’ was, exactly; tried to keep my usual stoic face, but Madeline kept looking at me funny between bites of her all American feast.
She smiled, and my heart damn near melted. “This is really—“ she swallowed heavy, “good. The cheese, god, it’s going to make me so fat.”
“Yeah but like I said—“
“Right to my tits, huh? You seem pretty occupied with them, in that mysterious head of yours.”
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over one another, still only in that towel from my morning shower. “Yeah, well, I’m a guy. What can I say.”
“That you like to look,” she said sheepishly, with a hint of mischief in her voice and a playful glimmer in her sapphires. “I freely admit it, I’d watch you work all day if I could – you wouldn’t have to pay me. Just set me up with a lawn chair and
a strong appletini.”
“Right,” I clipped, bringing my gaze back to the TV – and finding myself going down that dark train of thought once more.
Madeline kicked her legs up onto the coffee table, beside her plate. “Again with that look,” she said beneath her breath, “do you seriously hate this show or something?”
Some kind of gravelly rumble rolled from my chest, and I only barely noticed the way in which I bared my teeth. “No,” I said, biting back the darkness that clawed at my head and heart. Before she could even say another word, I sat my mostly consumed plate down, and kicked off the couch. I rounded my way past the furniture.
“Hey – wait up,” she called out, her head craning to follow me, “nobody could have pissed in your cheerios, you shouldn’t be this uptight!”
I had to get away from her for just a second. It was stupid that I couldn’t get past all of the shit that clung to my wicked heart. I slipped into a pair of black jeans; making sure to grab my switchblade off of the nightstand – force of habit, really. Never felt safe without something on me. After that, I grabbed my smartphone and since I’d been demoted to citizen duty, I decided on wearing my dark red Henley. When I practically stomped my way back over to miss Paint It Black, she was staring daggers at me. “What?” I asked.
“You,” she said, “you ruined my fun by putting on that shirt.”
I smirked at her, “It stays on ‘till yours comes off.”
Madeline’s eyes rounded at the mention of that, and dare I say, she started to redden in the cheeks.
“Relax,” I told her. “If I wanted it off of you, there would be more than implying.” When I sat down, the credits began to roll for that damn game show – never realized how much it hurt to watch it.
She swallowed and brought her legs up onto the couch, bundling them against her person – with her arms circled around her knees. Something pricked at my heart, watching her sit there all cute; straddling heaven and hell at the thought, that no matter how hard I tried – I could never really trust a woman.
Certainly not such a young, aimless girl as Madeline. Even if she did have curves like an angel; a mind behind her addiction that shone like a diamond, and I suspected, behind those blue eyes, there was a kindness to her she never let people see.
Trust was something far out of reach. After that terrible day, I only looked to my brothers, now.
Madeline raised her charming little heart-shaped face, “What would there be?”
“What?” I replied, being plucked from my thoughts.
She looked away from me then. Annoyed. “If you wanted my shirt off…”
Our eyes met and a heat that I couldn’t deny smoldered between us. It’s just the head between your fuckin’ legs that wants her, I thought. Get over yourself already, this is a job – just like any other. “Drop it,” I growled, getting up from the couch, “you’re too young for me, anyway.”
“Bullshit,” she said, throwing her head back in laughter, “you don’t think we don’t know?” I glanced at her as I moved over to my DVD collection, which was hanging on a black shelf against the wall. “It’s hardwired into our skulls, okay,” Madeline lambasted, “a girl knows when a man’s getting pussy. You don’t just swagger the way you do without dipping yourself in more skank than I’d like to imagine.”
“You wouldn’t know the first thing about where—“ I grabbed myself for emphasis, “this badboy, has been, alright? Now keep your ass planted to my couch we’re watching something that doesn’t suck.”
Madeline huffed – God she was insufferable, yet so weirdly easy to find cute in the way that her nose flared; in the way that her lips curled with mischief. “Whatever you say, badass. All I know is, you tease a girl with a good time – even just by the way you move.” I had to fight back the mental thought of quieting her by stuffing my dick in her luscious mouth.
Great, now I’m getting hard.
“I didn’t tease you,” I argued, still browsing through my collection of DVD’s. Swore that I could feel that damn girl checking out my ass. That was when I heard her get up, and pad over beside me. “Hey,” I barked. “Told you to stay—“
“Yeah I’m not a good listener,” she interrupted, “besides I want to check out your shit.”
Glancing towards her, my brows glided upwards.
Her mouth made a tiny ‘O’ and she said: “N-not like that, totally.” She shook her head and cleared her throat, “the DVDs.”
“Right,” my reply was curt. The Princess Bride, now that was a monster of a classic. Just seeing it’s title sent shivers up my back; the memories of watching it, and later in life, reading it – they brought me back to a happier moment. Thought too, on how Luke had read it to me in the hospital. Out of all of them, he was the one I’d entrust anything and everything to.
Mads elbowed me playfully in the side, trying to move me over. The warmth that bloomed where she touched me, man it just wasn’t natural. I’ve never gotten like this before, what the hell is going on with me? She peered at the collection and brushed back some of her black and red hair. “Tell me,” she insisted, “I want to know how you’d do it. Pretend it’s not me.”
I stopped what I was doing and my jaw tightened. My hear tapped against my breastbone, way quicker than I realized. She hadn’t even started her withdrawals yet and it was like pulling teeth. When she verbally repeated her stance on the matter, I felt a flash of heat roar through me – and I became aware of the switchblade in my pocket. Turning to face her, I shot my hands to her curvy sides and watched as her eyes rounded, and she gasped. In a smooth motion, I brought her back over to the couch and forced her into it; straddling her, I pulled out my knife and clicked it to life.
I pushed the knife up against her throat, not enough to do damage – but enough to get the fear and arousal glassing over her eyes. Felt the heat surrounding me, threatening to overtake all that I was; it just couldn’t be real, the way she worked me up with just the flick of her eyes – the cadence of her words.
Dammit. What kind of poison is this?
Madeline sucked in a cautious breath, her body limp with fear and lust. Her sapphire blue eyes told me everything that I needed to know, and her lips looked like they wanted to speak so badly.
This girl liked things rough. Liked things on the wild side. But I knew that I shouldn’t be embracing that darkness, that I shouldn’t be nurturing this… dysfunctional dream.
Smoke and gravel, that was the way I growled at her. Couldn’t help it, with the way she looked, the way she talked. I brought the knife down against her shirt, keeping her chin and soft cheek cupped. The knife ripped right through her plain shirt, and when I brought it past her navel, I yanked at what remained – causing the dark angel of a girl to gasp.
Only her black and hot pink bra remained, sending an instant wave of need right to my cock.
This was wrong, so fucking wrong on so many levels.
But I craved it. I leaned in close and brought the end of the blade up, right between her cups, “That,” I husked, leaning in so close that our lips could nearly touch, “is what I mean.” She reached her hand to the back of my head when I tried to pull away. It took every ounce of will that I had, but I did it anyway – I pulled away from her and put the knife away.
Stomping away from her, I rounded the couch, “That didn’t happen,” I called out to Madeline – making my way into the bedroom and fetching her one of my white tee’s. When I returned, I tossed the shirt over to her, and she caught it midflight.
By the time I drew the curtains, popped the movie in, and sat down, Madeline had put the shirt on and was sticking her tongue out at me for a moment. “You’re no fun,” she purred, “if this movie’s no good I’ll probably end up coaxing that hotness out of you again.”
“You’ll behave,” I crossed my arms other one another – I was sure I could keep her in line, but the real question was, could I keep myself calm and collected? “Besides, this is the best movie ever.” Madeline’s phone buzzed
in her pants, and she dipped her hand into her pocket to produce it.
“The best movie ever?” Madeline threw her head back in a fit of laughter, “you are delusional.” She scanned the screen of her phone, the relaxed lines of her face quickly wilted. Whoever it was, it was clear that she wasn’t getting an ounce of joy from reading their message.
“Oh I’d have to be,” my voice carried well above hers, “for having to put up with you.” I’d expected more laughter, or maybe some kind of snarky remark. Something. But Madeline whined some pained noise out, and clutched at her stomach. “Are you alright?”
“Y-yeah,” she both looked and sounded uncertain.
“You know now that I look at you…” I scooted over to her and examined her queasy looking face, grabbing her chin with my thumb and index, turning her now and again.
Before I had the chance to talk at her any longer, she flinched and said: “Oh. Shit.” She shook her head and pulled away from me, making more uneasy groans, and then leapt from the couch. “Bathroom?” She asked with desperation.
I pointed it out to her and quickly followed her into it. She sank down to her knees, and just as I pulled her hair away – she started to upchuck.
Guess her withdrawals didn’t care for my choice in movies.
15
Madeline
Ugh, I’d felt the first fingers of sickness after I’d finished eating – but I thought that I could control it. Then it just started hitting me like I was in the right with Iron Mike.
So embarrassing.
Still, I quickly put the thought away from my mind – after cleaning up and much assurances that I was okay, and that I didn’t feel like the withdrawals were hitting me in full just yet; we were finally ten minutes into the movie.
“You’re smiling again,” Gabriel pointed out, sprawled out comfortably on his well-established side of the couch. His island.
I just opted to hide my face from the man. “Well I can’t scowl all of the time, trust me I’ve tried.”
