Savages Series Boxed Set

by Jessica Gadziala

  I woke up feeling wrung out and spacey, slipping into a black dress and flats, braiding my hair, and not even bothering with makeup. I couldn't bring myself to sit in the church with everyone else and their fake grief. I stood in the shadows of the doorway to the back of the church, listening to the services, taking little to no comfort in the words. I took the podium when I was called, my insides all feeling like they were shaking, rattling up against one another, knocking like spoons in strong arms with loose wrists. My eyes found my support group, the only people who could understand where my words were coming from, and I spoke to them.

  When my clumsy tongue tripped over the words about him making amends for his wrong doings, but not all of them, my eyes helplessly sought Johnnie, despite my better sense. I had no doubt that, given some more time, Ben would have tried to reach out to his son; he would have tried to make right. I knew that down to my bones and I wanted Johnnie to know that too, despite my shallow angry feeling toward him about how easily he replaced me. That was besides the point anyway.

  Finished, I fled the altar and the church as a whole, driving to the cemetery with a weighted feeling inside. I listened to Father Sanders with a detached sort of interest, focusing mostly on the way the weight inside felt like it was dragging me down, like there was a magnet somewhere deep in the earth where Ben was soon to take residence, like it was begging me to follow suit. Confused and scared by the sensation, my head raised, eyes blurry with tears, to seek a face of comfort, someone to help shoulder the burden before it broke me down completely. My traitorous eyes looked automatically for Johnnie for reasons I didn't understand and didn't want to try to analyze. But when they found him, well, his hand was wrapped up in the hand of the girl from his apartment and the sinking feeling intensified until I looked away. I fought the urge to sink to my knees, praying every second for the service to be over so I could run.

  Everyone started to move away and I felt the sob break free, feeling like it broke my ribcage with its effort and I wrapped my arms around my middle, feeling the need to hold myself together, bending forward slightly to do so. As such, I didn't see him move.

  "Hey angel," his voice reached me as his hand touched my arm. My head snapped up, seeing nothing but a soul-deep concern in his deep green eyes. And everything that was left of my walls positively cracked and crumbled.

  Terrified, I ran.

  I knew he was in my apartment. Don't ask me how I knew because, despite his tendency to be loud in the apartment next door, he had the silent movements of a cat. But I knew. So when my bed depressed and his body curled around mine, I wasn't surprised. I should have fought it. I should have told him to get lost, to leave me alone, to never bother me again. But I didn't. Because it felt right; it felt right to have his arms around me, helping me hold myself together; it felt right to have his body cradling mine; it felt right to have his steady heartbeat behind me while mine was breaking.

  It felt like it would never end, the crying, the sinking feeling. But the tears stopped and I sniffed and wiped the evidence away, turning in his arms without even thinking about it. His hand moved up to stroke my hair behind my ear, a small, sweet gesture that felt way too nice. I wanted more; I needed more of that feeling.

  "Make me feel better, Johnnie," I whispered, my hand going behind his neck and pulling him to me.

  There was a brief hesitation before his lips found mine. There was none of the teasing exploration of the last time, the soft sweetness of a first kiss. This felt primal and desperate, like he wanted to devour me and that was fine, because I wanted to be devoured. His lips bruised into mine and I responded in kind, my tongue pressing forward to stroke over his, the rub of his tongue ring drawing an almost pained moan from me. Johnnie pushed forward, pressing me onto my back and resting half over me, his weight balanced on one arm as the other stroked softly down the side of my neck, over the top of my chest, then finally, closing over my breast. My back arched up into his touch, my nipple hardening at contact, constricting to the point of pain. His thumb moved over the hardened bud.

  His lips left mine to kiss down my jaw, then my neck, finding a sensitive spot just beneath my ear and tracing his tongue there until my whole body shuddered. His mouth moved down the column of my neck, over the exposed skin of my upper chest, then closing over my hard nipple through the material of my dress, sucking it in and lavishing over it with his tongue. It was a shocking, new sensation that threatened to overwhelm me. My hand moved to his hair, holding him in place as his free hand moved softly up and down my side from breast to thigh and back again.

  "Johnnie..." I heard myself whimper, not sure what I was saying or asking, but hoping he would know.

  His head tilted upward, his eyes searching mine for a moment. "You want more, darlin'?"

  Did I want more? Was there a woman in her right mind who would say no to him? Even women like me... women who had no freaking idea what was in store for them... women who had never done anything more than a little over-the-clothes touching before they freaked out and pushed the guys away.

  Yep. That was me. Twenty-six and a virgin.

  But did I want more?

  "Yes."

  His head dipped again, taking my other nipple into his mouth as his free hand moved to my thigh and stayed, inching the hem of my skirt up so slowly that each exposed inch felt tingly. His mouth released my nipple and his head raised again to watch me as his finger traced the line of my panties just above my thigh- over and over, his fingers brushing the soft skin of my upper thighs in the process. My legs fell open to his touch and his hand moved upward, stroking across my belly before toying with the band of my panties. "More?" he asked and, too turned on to make my mind form coherent thoughts, let alone form words, I simply nodded at him.

  His fingers dipped under the waistline without hesitation, with a sureness that came from experience, but still so slowly. It felt like an eternity before his finger slowly slid between my slick folds, a growling sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest as my body shuddered. He let out a slow, shaky breath as his finger traced upward and found my clit, working over it in light circles. My hand flew out, grabbing his arm and squeezing. He gave me a small smile before ducking his head and taking my lips again, swallowing my moans as his hand drove me upward, my entire body going tight.

  I'd touched myself before. I had given myself orgasms before. But this was different; this was infinitely better. Somehow more intimate, more consuming. I felt like my body was poised to explode and all I wanted was for Johnnie to flip the switch and make it happen.

  Then his hand pulled away and I made a crying sound against his lips, making him pull backward. "Not yet," he said softly, his hand moving out of my panties but only because he started pulling them down. I lifted my hips and felt the material move downward, Johnnie's body lifting from mine to sit back on his heels and free my feet from my underwear. He looked down at me for a long minute. My thighs snapped together, insecure, and his hands started stroking up and down my calves. They got up to my knees and held there, squeezing, then pushing them open as he slowly lowered himself down in the space between. His head turned and he kissed gently up my inner thigh, his arms wrapped around both legs, holding them pinned open on the mattress.

  My sex clenched hard as his hair tickled the crease where my hip met my thigh. His head shifted and I felt the tip of his tongue slide up my slit, drawing a whimper out of me, my hand moving down to hold the back of his neck. His tongue found my clit and stroked over it a few times before I felt it retreat slightly before the round bead of his tongue piercing slid across it, making my body jolt at the unfamiliar sensation. His eyes opened, tilting up to look at me as he continued the strange, new, utterly intoxicating exploration, making my thighs start to shake. His warm breath huffed out as his tongue replaced the piercing, leaving me to try to figure out which I liked more. Which ended up being impossible to decide. As if sensing this, Johnnie switched it every few strokes until my entire body was writhing, my hands diggin
g into his neck and arm, my moans coming out loud and constant.

  His tongue pulled back for the barest of seconds, his eyes on me as he murmured, "Give it to me, angel." Then his tongue ring pressed over my clit again and I did, I gave it to him. My orgasm coursed almost violently through my body, starting like a white hot spark where his tongue met me and exploding outward, making my body tremble as it collapsed back on the bed and I groaned out his name.

  He didn't move away right at first. His tongue stroked over me for another minute, avoiding my too-sensitive clit, enjoying my taste, before his head tilted, kissing down my other thigh. His body started to move over mine, his head dipped to kiss up my belly and chest, then up my neck.

  I slowly came back into my body, feeling weighted, but in a good way, and calm. I didn't expect to feel calm. I always thought that after I finally did something with someone, that I would feel shy or insecure or regretful. But none of those feelings came. I just felt... satisfied.

  My hands drifted up and down his back for a long moment before I heard it: a knocking. It wasn't at my door, it was at his. He either didn't hear it or was ignoring it so I decided to as well. That was, until I heard a female voice calling his name.

  My body jolted, but had no way of escaping his body pressing me into the mattress. My hands moved between us, shoving hard at his shoulders. He pushed upward, frown lines between his brows. "What's wrong?"

  I knew she was still out there. I couldn't hear her, but I knew she was there. And her presence was taking something that had felt good and special and right... and tainted it. And I only had myself to blame. I knew better. I knew how he was. I knew I couldn't let him in. And then I did it anyway.

  Stupid, stupid girl.

  "Get out," I heard myself say, my voice a strange, hollow version of itself.

  "What?" he asked, his brows furrowing more. "Darlin' what's wrong?"

  "Just go, Johnnie," I said, shaking my head at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but I shook my head. "I said go."

  He pushed backward, sitting on his ankles, his shoulders slumping as he searched my face for something. Whatever it was, he found it and his entire face looked like it fell. I felt a fist wrap itself around my heart at the sight. But it was too late; the damage was done... for both of us. And he was leaving. So the sooner he left me, the better everything would be.

  "Whatever I did, angelface..." he started, getting to his feet.

  I turned my face away from him, feeling another rush of tears well up behind my eyes and needing him not to see them. He didn't finish his sentence. In fact, he said nothing at all. He just left. I wouldn't even have known he was gone except for hearing the click of my apartment door.

  The achy, hollow feeling started in my chest again and I put my hand there to ease it.

  But, of course, it didn't work.

  There was no fixing it.

  EIGHT

  Shooter

  I stepped into the hall, raking a hand down my face. What the hell was that? We had something there. When she turned in my arms and I really got a look at her, sans grief, I saw her. I actually saw her. She wasn't hiding anymore. And the way that she responded to me, each tiny touch sending off sparks through her whole system... fuck. I didn't even want to get started on how she tasted, like sunshine, like something I could taste every day for the rest of my life and never get sick of it.

  "I knew it was her!" Alex's voice said, surprising me.

  "What?" I asked, watching her leaning against the wall beside my door, her arms crossed.

  "The girl in that apartment. I saw her the other night when she was coming in. One look at her and I knew she was the one that has you with those moon-eyes."

  I looked back toward Amelia's door. "You saw her?"

  "Yeah, she kinda stopped dead when she saw me, like I surprised her. I said hey; she said hey. Then she went into her apartment."

  I looked up at the ceiling, shaking my head. "Fucking Christ."

  "What?"

  "She thinks we're fucking, pumpkin," I said, letting out a long breath.

  "Ironic, huh?" Alex asked as I opened the door for her to step inside.

  "What is?"

  "The one time you're not being a slut and you get accused."

  "She didn't accuse me. She just... avoided me all day yesterday. Probably would have done that today too but she was sad and lonely and I was there."

  "Comforted her, did you?" she asked with a coy smile, making a wide berth around Millie on the floor.

  "Sure. Until she kicked me out."

  Alex was silent for a moment then let out a humorless laugh. "Losing your skills, huh?" she asked, trying to ease the tension that had worked itself into my shoulders and jaw. "Shooter," she tried softly, reaching out to touch my arm. "Go explain; or I'll go explain. Don't just stand here looking like a kicked dog."

  "What the fuck does it matter?" I asked, feeling frustration flood my system. "I'm out of here tomorrow anyway."

  "Don't leave it on this note, Shoot. She was wrecked today. She wasn't thinking straight."

  I felt myself nod tightly. "So you and Break heading out tonight?"

  "As charming as the accent here is, and believe me, it's charming," Alex said, shrugging. "I want to go back to a place where no one talks to me when I pass by them on the street. Do you know how many people stopped us and asked us how we knew you the past two days?" I went to shrug, but she kept going, "Thirty-nine, Shoot. Fucking thirty-nine people. I don't think I've talked to thirty-nine people all year back home. I miss that- everyone being an asshole."

  I felt a chuckle rise up and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, grinding my knuckles into the hair at the top of her head. "You're not the tough nut you think you are, sweetheart."

  "Shh. Don't let that get out. I have a reputation to keep," she said, wrapping her arms around me for a hug. "You're really coming back tomorrow?"

  "Yeah. I have a job next week. 'Sides... there's nothing for me here."

  "Okay," she said, giving me a squeeze before moving away. "Good luck wrestling that demon cat into a travel carrier," she said with a wicked grin as she made her way to the door.

  I waited. I figured maybe she needed a minute to put her walls back up; maybe she was embarrassed of being open with me. So I was giving her time. In fact, I gave her till early evening, being a complete creep and listening for signs that she was awake and moving around before I walked out into the hallway and knocked on her door.

  There wasn't so much as a pause before her footsteps stopped and the door opened; so she either didn't expect me to show up and therefore didn't check the peephole, or she decided she was going to be cool, snippy Amelia and push me away. Judging by the way her mouth fell open when she saw me, yeah, it was the former.

  "I told you to go."

  "And I went," I said, tucking my hands into my pockets. "Now I'm back."

  "And you're unwelcome."

  She tried so hard, she really did, to seem mean and bitchy. But the fact of the matter was, she was neither and she didn't even play act at them well. "I want to explain something to you, baby. And you're gonna listen. You can slam the door in my face if you want, but I'll just yell through it and let the whole floor know our business."

  "There is no our," she corrected, wanting so badly to believe it.

  "Sure there is, darlin'. And it seems you got something confused at some point the night before last. I want to set that to rights."

  Her eyes flashed, "Oh, I'm not confused at all, Johnnie. In fact, things are crystal clear to me."

  "You weren't getting out of this town without that beer you promised me!" Dade's voice called, and I craned my neck over my shoulder to see him walking down the hall toward us. "I'm holding you to it," he said, gesturing with the six-pack in his hand. "Pretty lady," he said, winking at Amelia who seemed completely immune to his charm. Funny, that. "How are you holding up, honey?" he went on, his head cocked to the side, looking concerned. "You had a rough day."


  "It would be much better if you got him out of my doorway," she said with a haughty chin lift.

  Dade gave her a small smile. "Want to join us for a beer?"

  "No thanks, Dade. I'm tired."

  He moved forward, shouldering me slightly out of the way in doing so, making me step out of the doorway. Whether it was to carry out her wishes or to make his move, I wasn't sure. His hand moved out to close around her wrist, giving it a small squeeze. "If you need anything, honey..."

  "Thanks," she cut him off, offering a closed-lip smile that nowhere reached her eyes. "Enjoy your beer," she said, moving back and closing the door.

  "Fuck was that?" I asked when Dade turned back to me.

  "What?" he asked, innocently, moving toward my dad's apartment.

  "Shouldering me out of the way?" I asked, closing the door behind me, watching as he put the beer on the counter and reached out to pet Millie, who let him.

  "You're ugly as sin, cat," he said to her as he popped his beer. He took a long swig before answering. "What are you doing messing with that girl?" he asked, shaking his head. "You're out of here tomorrow, man. Don't you think her heart is broken enough as it is?"

  "So that was you making a move?" I asked, feeling annoyance rise up. "Case you were wondering, she tastes like fucking sunshine."

  Dade's brows raised for a minute, taking another sip before he let his breath hiss out of his mouth. "Ain't like you to kiss and tell. You're better than that."

  Fuck. He was right. I sighed, accepting the beer he held out to me, twisting off the top and drinking half the bottle in one swig. "Wanted more time with that one," I said honestly. It was true.

  "What's stopping you?" Dade asked and there was a glimmer of hope there that reminded me what a selfish shit I had been. He wanted me to be around. He wanted our friendship back.

  "Work. Break and Alex. Paine. I have people back home."

  "Ain't saying you need to uproot your life, Johnnie. I get it. You've put down some roots. Just sayin', don't mean you can't have wings too. Hell, I got an empty apartment at the ranch. Come through between work and life stuff. Visit. See Amy."