by M. N. Forgy
My hands glide along her curves, taking in every scar, every freckle, and perfection of her body. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whisper into her ear. She leans her head on my shoulder, and moans as I continue to drive my cock into her.
I bend slightly and kiss her lips. It dawns on me while we kiss that I am not fucking Jessica, not having sex with her, but making love.
Wetness coats my cock as she constricts along my shaft.
“Bobby,” she whispers, warning me she’s close. Hearing my name on her lips causes my dick to squeeze, and my balls to obliterate with warmth.
“Bobby!” Jessica yells into the air, her body climaxing. Her nails dig into my neck and her legs widen more as she releases, allowing my dick to hit the back of her. We fall over onto the cushions, my body lying on top of hers as I pump my hips back and forth slowly.
I groan loudly into the side of her neck, the pressure spreading up my shaft and triggering me to come inside of her. After we both still, the high of sensation faltering, I fall next to her, both of us panting, taking any oxygen into our lungs that we can get.
“Looks like I am sucker for a boat and stars too,” she laughs, still panting. I roll off her and look up at the sky.
“I haven’t brought anyone out here,” I admit, making her laugh fade. “My dad used to take me out all the time. When I was younger, we would fish at night. He told me one time that he got my mother to finally agree to be more than friends by taking her out on his boat.” I pause, remembering how he was always preaching to me about how to love a woman. He had such high expectations; I never felt like I would be able to deliver what a woman deserved. “My dad told me to take a woman out at night on a boat, but not just any woman. One that meant something to me.” I turn to look at her, her face lax and her blue eyes focused on me, not giving anything away.
I turn my head and look back up at the sky.
“Your dad sounds like he was a good man,” Jessica murmurs, ignoring the fact that I chose to take her out on a boat.
“Yeah, something like that,” I laugh half-heartedly. My father was actually kind of a brute behind my mother’s back, but a gentleman in front of her. I learned everything I know about women from my dad. He was a ladies’ man back in his day before he met my mom.
“Was he in the Devil’s Dust?” Jessica questions, rolling on her back to look up at the stars. My eyes trail along her naked frame, the moonlight glistening off the sweat beaded between her tits.
“No, he was a firefighter,” I tell her.
“What about your mother?” Jessica continues to ask.
“My mother was the type of woman to always help the community, churches, schools, you name it. She was a saint,” I reply, thinking about my mother and how much of a kind woman she was. “My parents were great. I got into trouble growing up based purely on liking trouble. I don’t have some crazy reason or fucked-up past to justify why I am the way I am, or why I like to cause havoc at times. I just enjoyed it mostly, well, I enjoy it still,” I laugh, making Jessica giggles.
“Whenever I got thrown in jail or juvie as a kid, my dad would pick me up and take me home when I was allowed out. When I walked in the door, my mom would smack me in the back of the head and give me a plate of warm food. They never paid my bail or pleaded for early release; they made me do the time for my crime, but they never judged me. They were just there for me as I paid the price for liking trouble,” I inform, smiling from the memories.
“They sound great, Bobby. I’m sorry you lost them,” Jessica whispers.
“Yeah, me too,” I mumble. Thunder sounds from clouds further at sea, moving toward us. The wind picking up as it heads in our direction.
“What about your parents?” I ask. Jessica sighs, pulling her hair out from her neck.
“My dad is the kind of guy who knows everything and everyone; has connections everywhere. His main goal in life is to be successful, and will do nothing less than exceed what is expected of him,” she informs, her lips pursed.
“He sounds like a tool,” I reply honestly.
“He is,” she laughs.
“Your mom?” I question, wondering if she is the bitch to go with the tool.
“She is actually pretty cool when she wants to be. She’s the only one I talk to anymore,” she whispers, frowning. I knew she only talked to her mom, but she’s never said why she doesn’t speak to her dad.
“Why is that?”
Jessica inhales a deep breath, and shakes her head. “For one, I am not a brain surgeon like my father wanted me to be, and I am not married to some bigwig who’s living life in the limelight so he can be praised for his outstanding parental guidance,” she explains. “I am not what he wants in a daughter, and to be honest, he is not what I want in a father,” she continues, shrugging.
“He knew I was living in hell with Travis, but he looked the other away. All he wanted was to be on the board of Travis’s family’s hospital,” Jessica mutters, making my head whip in her direction.
“You want me to beat his ass?” I ask seriously. Jessica’s frown turns into a fit of laughter, relaxing my frown and joining in.
“I think I’m good,” she whispers, gazing up at the clouded sky that suddenly strikes with lightning.
“We better get this back to the dock,” I suggest, grabbing my shirt from behind her head. I pull my button-up shirt on but leave it unbuttoned. Grabbing my jeans and boxers, I pull them on as Jessica dresses. I lean over and kiss her forehead as I head to the steering wheel.
Driving back to the dock, I watch Jessica. She’s sitting up at the front, watching the waves, her hair blowing in the wind.
I park the boat and place the key back where I found it. Climbing off and securing it to a dock post, I reach for Jessica’s hand, helping her off.
“That was amazing, Bobby. I can’t believe you rented a boat,” Jessica remarks, admiring the craft swaying back and forth in the waves.
“Get the fuck away from my boat before I call the cops!”
Jessica and I both look toward the shore, finding an older man raising a fist and running on the dock toward us pissed.
“Um, Bobby,” Jessica starts, turning to eye me warily.
“Okay, so maybe I didn’t rent the boat. Run!” I yell, pressing on the small of her back. Jessica grabs her shoes and runs laughing. With the older guy gaining on us, I grab Jessica by the waist and throw her over my shoulder, running with her slung over my shoulder. We run all the way up the wooden dock and onto the beach laughing the whole time. Out of breath, I stop, and lower Jessica who is red in the face from giggling so hard.
“Oh, my God, that was so much fun,” Jessica pants, eyeing the dock to see if the old man is coming.
My hands on her hips, I pull her ass toward the front of me. Watching the horizon ignite with lightning, I place my chin on her head, still chuckling at getting caught for joyriding. Any other girl would have been pissed I stole a boat, but Jessica loved it, and loved getting caught.
“I love you,” I whisper into her head. I feel Jessica stiffen under my hold, and turn slowly, causing me to release her. My heart beats violently against my ribcage, realizing what I just said.
“I mean, I—”
“No, you said you love me,” Jessica reaffirms, her eyes widening with surprise.
I inhale and swallow the lump in my throat. Why deny it?
“I did say it. I do love you,” I whisper, looking down at the sand beneath her bare feet.
“You said you wouldn’t. You promised,” Jessica murmurs, her voice cracking with emotion and edged with anger.
“I’ve loved you since the day you and Addie walked into my life, Jessica. I just didn’t realize it ‘til recently. I wouldn’t allow myself to believe that I fell in love before now. I know there are a dozen reasons why we shouldn’t be together, but I don’t fucking care,” I tell her, my tone gaining hostility at the thought of her pushing me away. Again.
“NO!” Jessica yells, pushing at my chest angry.
I turn my head and take a breath at her reaction. “I will not be trapped in another relationship. I won’t be with another dangerous man!” Jessica screams loudly.
I snap my head toward her and clench my jaw. “You killed a man, Jessica. You are just as dangerous as I am!” I yell angrily, making her even angrier. “And you love me,” I mutter, my eyes furrowed inward as I stare her down.
“No I—” she pauses and inhales quickly. “No, I don’t,” she whispers, her voice wavering.
“Yes, you do,” I press, my tone serious.
Jessica shakes her head, tears running down her face. “It doesn’t matter if I do or not. We can’t be together because of the club’s fucking rules, Bobby,” Jessica protests.
“Bullshit,” I mumble, rubbing my hands together and looking out at the ocean’s waves turning hostile from the storm.
“What?” she turns back to me with vicious eyes.
“Bullshit, Jessica,” I repeat. “When are you going to stop with the shit excuses and admit you’re just afraid of being hurt, of having your heart broken?” I yell, my voice echoing through the night. Jessica sucks in a sudden breath, her nostrils flaring at my confrontation. “Admit it!” I roar, pointing at her.
“I am! I am afraid of loving you, Bobby. You’re a player, a manipulator who likes to live life on the edge. How long after being with me are you going to get bored and walk out on me and Addie?” Jessica sobs, tears running down her face, one hand tangled in her hair in dismay.
“I wouldn’t do that. I’m not Travis!” Jessica winces when she hears her ex-husband’s name leave my mouth. Jessica gives a half laugh, breaking the sudden shock written on her face.
“You said so yourself, Bobby, you can’t commit. Look at us. We can’t even go on a date without fighting,” she continues, wiping the tears from her face. I turn, running my hand on the back of my neck irritated.
I did say that. We’ve both said a lot of things along the years, defending why we shouldn’t be together. But they were just excuses, lies. In reality, I’m just as afraid of being hurt as she is; scared I can’t deliver what she needs from me. I thought maybe Jessica was breaking through the fear that caged her, but it looks like she isn’t any more free than she was when I met her. Travis will always be a part of her, terrorizing her, keeping her from opening up to me fully.
“Yeah, we fight, everyone fights. I tell you when you’re being a bitch, and you tell me when I’m being a dick,” I mutter. Jessica’s eyes widen before squinting back to anger.
Lightning strikes just above us as the clouds sprinkle cold rain.
“Take me home, Bobby,” Jessica demands, turning and walking up the cement steps, back to the truck. The anger racing through me makes my face flush with heat, my jaw clenched to the point it aches.
“What the fuck ever. You’re crazy, you know that?” I growl, having enough of the denial that racks through every word leaving Jessica’s mouth.
She turns back and glares at me. Her lips parted in disbelief as she stomps back down the steps.
“Fuck you, Bobby!” she yells, pushing me in the chest with the hand carrying one of her heels.
“Move,” I snap, pushing her hand away and stalking past her.
Still standing on the last step, I hear her gasp as I make my way up. I have never talked to Jessica like this, never treated her anything less than what she deserved. ‘Til now. I’m fucking pissed and my chest burns with hurt. I laid it all out there and told her how I feel, hell, how I’ve felt since day one thinking she might finally see that what we have can triumph fear. Our love is an unclear path, but it’s filled with possibilities. As the fear in our relationship lies on a previously traveled path, it imprints its painful memories to heart.
13
Jessica
Tension clouds the ride back to my apartment. I am as far on my side of the truck as I can get, leaving a wide amount of space between us as I look out the window. I had one rule. One. Don’t fall in love. I’ve made sure not to allow myself to fall in love with Bobby since the day I met him. I’ve kept boundaries and rules, but I got stupid and played with fire.
The truck stops and Bobby shuts the engine off. He looks over at me and sighs heavily. “Jessica,” Bobby mutters, his voice exasperated.
I open the door, and get out, slamming it shut behind me. The rain plasters my face as I make my way to the security gate. The raindrops mixing with my tears create a cocktail of misery. The tires of Bobby’s truck squeal when they bite the asphalt for traction as he speeds off. My heart sinks and guilt riddles up my spine with all that has transpired. What did I do? Why did I deny it? Why am I so scared?
I don’t even bother to try and enter my code in the security gate; I know it’s not fixed and will open without it. Once inside, I head to my apartment. I stop in front of Bree’s door and hear music and laughter. I’ll let Addie stay over there for the night; I need some time to myself. As I pull my key out of my purse and stick it into the handle, the door pushes open without me even unlocking it. I cock my head to the side and eye it. I notice black scuffmarks along the door jamb and my heart leaps into my throat. I lightly push the door open. My apartment is trashed. The couch is overturned and the kitchen cabinets are all open with boxed food thrown all over the floor. I take a step in to get a better look at the disaster. The lamp is on the floor, the bulb flickering, emanating an eerie glow
Chest burning from the violent beat of my heart, it thrusts against my ribcage as I eye the devastation that is my apartment. This can’t be good. This is not good. I turn to leave, but the door is pushed closed stopping me where I stand. As the door shuts, a shadow moves from the wall. I take a step back, trying to identify the figure who was hiding behind my door.
“I wondered when you would show back up.” An arctic chill travels up my back at his voice. I can’t place it, but it brings fear to the surface.
The shadow steps away from the wall and into the flickering light. My vision wavers, everything around the person blurs from fear. All I hear is the rush of blood swimming in my head and my heartbeat drumming in my ears.
“Grant?” I whisper, utterly terrified of the man standing before me, my voice echoing in my head as my upper lip sheets with a coat of sweat. Struck in the grip of fear, my body stiffens and my eyes widen. Lungs blazing with the urgency to resume breathing, I take a painful breath.
It’s Grant, Travis’s brother. To the untrained eye, it would be easy to confuse Grant with Travis; they look almost identical. But Grant is not nearly as distinguished. Grant’s features slack where Travis’s were sharp and squared off. Grant’s blond hair is combed back, a stray in the front curled down onto his forehead. Bloodshot eyes sunk in with dark circles stare back at me. His frame is thin, but the muscles on his arms speak of his strength. He squints his eyes, his eyebrows slicing inward maliciously.
“Hello, Jessica,” he hisses, his tone sharp and his voice slicing up my back with alarm.
I stumble over a picture frame on the floor and fall against the kitchen island. “What are you doing here?” I ask nervously.
“Oh, you know, the usual. I was in the neighborhood, wanted to stop by and see my sister-in-law who killed my brother, and is now taking all his money,” he remarks condescendingly. The hairs on my neck stand as I regain my footing and stand straight. Grant was always quiet and distant when I saw him while I was with Travis, leaving him unpredictable.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, my voice growing in strength.
He stomps forward, making my body shrink onto a stool sitting in front of the island. He reminds me so much of Travis; all I can do in response is tremble with fear.
Gnashing his teeth, eyes angry and defined, he scowls at me in pure hatred. He grabs me by the throat and pulls me off the stool, my heels falling from my feet as he lifts me from the floor.
“You know exactly what I am talking about. My father told me Travis’s death was finalized, and that his will goes to you and that kid,”
he grits, his fingers digging into my skin painfully, but not enough to limit my breathing. I close my eyes. Grant looking like his brother is bringing back memories.
“You will do as I say if you want to breathe another day, Jessica.” Travis’s voice echoes in my head. Even though it’s Grant’s fingers around my neck, all I feel, all I hear is Travis.
“Do you know the life I have lived because of you?” he asks, disgust evident in his voice. The roughness of his tone breaks me from my familiar stirring, making me open my eyes. “My parents resigned their positions from the board of the hospital and have spent every dime they have on finding Travis. Leaving me on the streets,” he says, eerily calm.
I know he was not one to follow the family’s footsteps in medicine, but why would he live on the streets? It makes no sense that his parents would do that to him. I try to shift my body hoping to touch the floor with my feet to relieve the pressure he has around my throat. I’m able to pull slightly, allowing the tips of my toes to hold some of my weight, letting a rush of fresh air sweep into my lungs.
“Where’s the money?” Grant asks, his voice eerily calm despite his hand clamped around my throat.
“What money?” I choke out, scratching at his arms to let me go, my toes aching from all the weight they’re holding. My eyes find Grant’s that are dilated, and more bloodshot than I thought. I look at his arm and notice track marks. Little beady, black ink spots strike up his arm. He’s a drug addict. His parents throwing him on the street, they aren’t supporting his drug habit, and with him on my doorstep demanding money means one thing. He wants the money from Travis’s will.
“What?” Grant growls, frustrated. I open my mouth to try to speak but only scratching noises come out. He lets go of me, allowing me to fall to the floor. I cough, trying to get all the oxygen I can into my lungs.