Atone, page 13
“David,” she whispers.
“Shhh… be a good girl and I’ll take you to a place you’ve only imagined. You’ll see stars.” My hand caresses her incredible back up and down as my thumb eases in a bit more. Then I pull it out and draw her up on all fours.
Her moans fill the room as I back up and start to lick her juicy cunt from behind. Sucking on her plump clit, I watch her hard nails scratch the sheets like a cat does to a post.
“Yes… oh fuck, David.” She spreads her knees open wider as she backs into my mouth lowering her head to her hands.
“You like me eating this pussy, don’t you?”
“Don’t stop,” she pants, her body almost trembling with a pent-up need to come.
“I’m not going to stop. I’m gonna fuck this tight hole tonight. Next time, think twice before begging a monster to stay the night with you.”
Both of us are panting. Self-control is not my strong suit. Her breathy moans stop.
She turns her head so that her pale beauty almost makes me hesitate. Yet I lean down and lick her tiny hole, my other fingers going straight into her tight cunt. In seconds, she orgasms.
“Holy shit… I’m coming…” Her body shakes as I keep licking her tiny hole, her pussy pulsing and clenching on my fingers.
“Yes,” she screams as I keep finger fucking her. “Yes… you can fuck my ass.” She drops her head as if she can’t believe she said it.
I smile and stand, grabbing her hips like the demon I am. She’s breathing heavily, her body covered in a light sweat.
“Just relax.” I grab my leaking cock and do a couple of rubs up and down her ass.
“David…” She’s terrified, and I can’t help but smile. Bringing her to this point does something to me.
“Breathe.” Before she can obey, I spread open her ass cheeks and with one rough thrust, I’m in straight fucking heaven.
She screams, and it’s better than any drug or alcohol. This woman’s cunt was made for me.
“You, asshole, you scared me,” she hisses and turns, but I slap her ass and slide my hand down her spine to her neck as I go as deep as I can and stay there. Cocooned in sweet bliss, a wave of contentment and connection makes me close my eyes. I shouldn’t want her this much, but her complete faith and trust in me is something I’ve never had. I must need it desperately if my lack of ability to stay away from her is any indication.
“Come on, Beautiful,” I say. “You didn’t think I was going to fuck your ass, did you?” I pump myself inside her; it’s hard and deep. “Tonight?”
“I… oh God.”
“Yeah, you’d like it though,” I grunt as I let her take all my pain away. It’s only us, our smell, our sounds, our bodies slapping against each other. She moans and I want to jet off inside her, but the thought of this pleasure being over makes me breathe through my nose.
“Fuck… I need this.” I pull out and flip her on her back as I spread her legs wide, entering her in one deep thrust. Her moans are loud, feral. She reaches for my chest. Long nails sink into me, and the sting makes my balls tighten and my cock grow bigger.
“I’m so fucking close.” I lean over and claim her stunning lips at last. She opens and our tongues seem as frantic as our thrusting bodies.
“I’m going to come.” She arches her body up and freezes for a second, her pussy latching onto my dick. Her body tightens as she screams my name. It’s the most intense orgasm I’ve ever been a part of. Her clenched fists pound my chest as she lets go.
“Yeah… Beautiful you just keep coming.” Her pussy sucks the come right out of my cock and I jerk, feeling my release down to my toes.
I lay my forehead on the pillow and kiss her neck, trying to steady my breath.
I don’t want to move. I want to stay inside her, let my cock harden again, and fuck her all night.
That thought makes me pull out. What the fuck am I doing? Have I completely lost my mind?
The fact that I told her this morning I can only give her sex, and she begs me to stay the night and will let me do anything to her—it’s wrong.
I’m beyond redeemable.
For Christ’s sake, I fucked my best friend’s wife while we both went down the rabbit hole on heroin and any other drug we could get our hands on.
Her sweet candy breath blows lightly on the side of my shoulder, almost as if she’s some sort of mind reader and is letting me purge my demons before she speaks.
“Don’t trust me, Charlie,” I say, turning my head to see her. “You shouldn’t bring strangers home. What the fuck were you thinking? I could have hurt you. You don’t just agree to have anal sex.”
I throw my arm over my eyes, rubbing my cock with my other hand. It’s slick with her juices and getting hard, which pisses me off.
She’s silent, but I sense her laser-like stare. I lift my arm to look at her face. The room is dark, yet I can see every fucking emotion. Her long hair spills across the pillow.
“I trust you. And you’re not a stranger. I know you.” Her raspy voice is strong.
“Christ.” I turn toward her. “You believe that, don’t you?” I reach for her silky hair because I’m addicted, and before I destroy her, I need one small fix.
“Beautiful, I have been all over the world, lived in the best and worst places. Tried almost everything, and I can honestly tell you I’m not a good person.”
I wrap my hand tight around her inky tresses, bringing her lips to mine as I steal her very breath.
“I’m here for revenge. I want to get the sick fucks who blew up my family and avenge my daughter.” I stand and reach for my jeans.
“David.” She sits up, her incredible tits on display. “You’re wrong. I see you. You may want revenge, but can’t you have both?”
She raises herself on her knees. I almost do the unthinkable and throw her back onto the bed and fuck her again, but instead, I feel around for my shirt and cut. My knife shines and it’s easy to locate.
“You deserve to be happy. You’re worth it.” Her words do nothing to me. Because I don’t and I know it.
“It doesn’t matter.” I find my leather cut and tee. Slipping them on, I turn. “I told you to run. You refused, so I’ll do the right thing and remove myself from this situation.” I run my hands through my hair.
“I’m not scared.” She lies back down in the bed. I grit my teeth so loud I’m sure she can hear it.
“You’ll be back.” She reaches for the slightly wrinkled sheet at the end of the bed.
“Just turn the lock on the handle on your way out.” She snuggles in deeper.
I almost start laughing. If this was happening to anyone else, I would. She curls up like a goddamn kitten. The white sheet covers half her body; the other half’s still visible in the darkness. I’m tempted to switch on the lights to see what she’ll do. Scrubbing my hands up and down my face, I fight the urge to crawl back into bed with her, lock the doors, and never leave.
Instead I turn and don’t look back.
CHARLIE
I blink my eyes open and close them. Sighing into the soft pillow, I can still smell him: a combination of spice and smoke.
Even knowing he’s gone, I still feel around for him. Dragging myself to a sitting position, I assess my life. As I reach toward the nightstand for the phone, I realize it’s in my purse and the battery’s probably dead. My face heats up as I think about what we did last night. I was scared and turned on at the same time.
“Oh my God.” Horrified, I cover my face. He brought me to the brink. I actually said yes. And it was all just to scare me, I think.
Dropping my hands, I pull my hair up into a messy bun. I should be pissed, right? Who does that? Apparently David, and what’s worse is I love it.
“God, I’m a freak,” I groan, wanting to lie back and hide under the covers. I stretch my sore muscles, which I’m not used to using.
I need to start doing yoga again. David’s cock is giant-sized and my poor vagina has a pulse and my legs are shaky this morning. Again, my mind drifts to last night and his huge cock.
Looking around the dark room, I wonder what time it is. My hand drifts below as I consider masturbating, but I’m throbbing already, and it’s probably a bad idea.
Tossing off the sheets, I make my way to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. I grab my purse from the counter and plug in the phone. After opening the curtains, I fluff a couple of throw pillows on the couch and head to the bathroom. I’m kind of a neat freak and maybe a little OCD, meaning I like things a certain way.
Flipping on the light, I lean over the sink to take a good look at myself in the mirror.
My lips are swollen and red; my eyes are bright. My left cheek is pink and has a slight rash from his stubble. Leaning back, I pull my hair down and smile, then close my eyes, chastising myself. What am I doing?
I’m filled with happiness and excitement, and I have no reason to be.
He wasn’t very nice.
He doesn’t want a relationship and he’s fucked up.
Oh, and he’s part of an MC club with bad guys who want revenge.
I step into the shower. The hot water helps my sore muscles and aching vagina. Closing my eyes, I let the water caress me. All dramatics aside, I’m crazy about him. He lights me on fire, makes me alive. He’s exciting, and even his pain makes me think my love can fix him.
Fuck it—I might as well own it. I’ve been in love with David since I was a teenager. And I refuse to be embarrassed or think that there is something wrong with me because I’m into whatever nasty things he does.
This man excites me, and maybe, just maybe, I will try anal with him. Reaching for the vanilla shower gel, I have to face the facts. David is tragic, he feels unworthy, and since I have never been through half of his shit, I can’t relate.
Tabatha’s death will never leave him. Never. This is where I wish he would let me in, so I can at least be of some support. I barely knew her, but I would have loved her even if she wasn’t mine. She was a beautiful baby girl and what happened is beyond awful.
I turn off the shower and grab a fluffy pink towel. Shit, is that my phone ringing?
For one insane second, I want to run to the kitchen and see if he’s the caller. But that would require having given him my number, so I brush my teeth and slather on some moisturizer when it starts again.
Dread slithers down me as I grab a black thong and bolt into the kitchen. I always worry about my mom. She’s not street savvy—not that I am, but for the most part, I try to make sensible decisions. She on the other hand…
As soon as I rip the charger off my phone, it starts vibrating and ringing again. CINDY’S CELL scrolls across my screen.
“Hello?” I walk back to the bedroom and straight into my closet, grabbing a yellow summer dress. After all, I had incredible sex and I’m not in the mood for black today. “Hold on.” I put the phone down to slip it on. “What’s up?”
“Thank God. I need you.” Cindy sounds out of breath and she’s yelling.
“Why are you yelling?” I yell back, then lower my voice as I grab some lace-up sandals.
“I’m in so much pain. I think I need the hospital. But I don’t have insurance.”
“Wait, what?” She’s definitely crying. “Cindy…” All I hear is her whimpering and talking to someone about pain.
“Cindy.” I raise my voice over hers. “Call 911, or can I come get you?”
“I’m taking an Uber to your apartment right now,” she screams into the phone. “I’m almost there.”
“What the hell? You took an Uber to me and didn’t go to urgent care or the hosp—” I move the phone to my other shoulder as I step into the bathroom and grab some lip gloss. “Okay, stay calm and I’ll come downstairs right now.”
“Good,” she wails. “I’m in really bad pain. I’ve had this before and I need the hospital.”
“Just getting my bag and I’ll take you.” I sound like I’m talking to a child. “I’m hanging up. See you in a minute.”
What the fuck?
How do I get myself into these situations? And why am I her new best friend? Racing around like an idiot, I grab a banana and glance at my coffee pot steaming with liquid goodness.
Good thing I’m in heels. I open the top cabinet and grab an old to-go cup, fill it up, and reach for my bag and sunglasses. I hate drinking out of to-go cups. For some reason, it always tastes different, but it’s better than nothing.
Tossing the bag over my shoulder, I put the banana inside it and try not to spill coffee on my dress as I lock the door. A horn honks. I glare at the idiot then feel bad because it’s the Uber driver. He’s obviously nervous and waves his arms frantically as though I can’t see him. The car is a mere twenty feet away.
I toss the keys into my bag, which seems heavier every day, and rush down the stairs approaching him and a pitiful-looking Cindy.
“Jesus.” She’s doubled over and I reach for her. “Cindy? Do you want me to take you to the ER or urgent care?” I look at the poor Uber driver. If he’s a day past twenty, I’ll be shocked.
“Um, I think she needs a hospital.” He points to Cindy’s crotch.
“Oh shit,” I scream, causing her to look up at me.
Black streaks of mascara run down her face and her nose is bright red. But her usual pink lips are pale.
“What?” she moans.
“Take us to the ER,” I yell at the driver. His eyes are fixated on Cindy’s pants. They’re covered in blood.
“Hey, get it together,” I snap.
“Oh my God,” she screams as she looks down at her pants.
I look around my apartment complex—for what I don’t know. All I see is my asshole upstairs neighbor staring down at us, smoking pot on his balcony.
“Come on.” I open the door to the poor Uber driver’s Nissan. He looks like he wants to say no, but my glare shuts him up. Nodding, he goes to the driver’s side. Thank God, because there’s blood on the back of his tan seat.
We both see it as Cindy starts to wail again. “Just get in. We’ll deal with it later. I’ll make sure we tip him.” It sounds awful, but I’m starting to get freaked out myself. What the hell is making her hemorrhage? Is she dying?
“Please hurry.” I sound way too calm.
“Yes,” the Uber driver croaks out.
Turning to Cindy, I grab her hand. “You’re going to be fine.” I try to make my voice soothing, which is pointless. She’s hysterical.
I sit, traumatized, holding her hand. As we speed down La Cienega, everything outside the window blurs.
Thankfully, the driver says nothing as he drops us off at the emergency room doors.
I grab our purses and hoist Cindy’s arm over my shoulder as we limp inside.
“Thank you, here.” I fish around in my wallet while holding Cindy and hand the guy a hundred dollars.
“We don’t have more money or time.” I wave as I hurry inside.
The air conditioner works a little too well in here, and my skin pebbles with goose bumps. I steer her over to the nurses’ station.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she tells a nurse who helps her into a chair and takes her information and vitals.
“I’ll take her to bed number sixteen,” the nurse says. In a matter of minutes, poor Cindy is in a wheelchair and gone from my view.
“Can you fill out some paperwork? Are you a relative?” I stare blankly at a woman at the front desk.
“No, I’m her boss. Well, I’m her friend,” I say to the woman who doesn’t even look up from the computer.
“Okay, we’ll discuss the rest with her.” At last, she glances up at me. “You can have a seat. We’ll let you know how she’s doing.”
“Thank you.” Quickly, I turn and scan the waiting room. It’s large and packed with people. Parents are rocking sick babies, children are coughing, and old people sit in wheelchairs.
Rather than sitting, I walk toward the restroom. Cindy is in the fucking hospital, bleeding. Happy, always-in-a-good-mood Cindy. “What the hell?” I mumble as I enter and go straight to the sink to wash my hands.
The blood comes off, but I still keep soaping them until my phone starts ringing.
“Hello?” I’m out of breath and no doubt sound crazy.
“What has happened?” my mom screams. “Did that man hurt you? I got some weird message from Cindy. I couldn’t understand her.”
“Mom,” I cut her off. “Stop worrying about David. Something awful has happened.” As I walk out of the bathroom, I tell her about Cindy in a whisper and find an open seat in between a man who is sleeping and a petite woman who is crying.
Suddenly another phone rings and it dawns on me that I’m holding Cindy’s purse.
“I’ll keep you posted, Mom, but I have Cindy’s phone and it’s ringing.”
“Wait… Do you want me to come?” And I don’t know if it’s because I’m sitting in a crowded emergency room, or what, but I love my mom and I love that she’s offered. I look around for a clock, but all I see is a large flat-screen TV. No one seems to be watching it besides one guy who is either on drugs or has a terrible eye infection.
“No, Mom, stay at the diner. I’ll keep you posted.” It’s amazing how calm I sound—I’m anything but. My hands shake as I reach for Cindy’s phone. Jesus.
“Hello?”
“I need to fuck you again. I know we said one and done, baby. But my cock is dripp—”
“Whoever this is, I need to stop you. This is not Cindy.” The line is silent and I almost hang up.
“Where’s Cindy?” It’s gruff and I know it’s that biker.
“Who is this?” Again, I look around the depressing white walls for something to drink. I see a soda machine with water. I stand and get my wallet out for a bottle.
“This is Ryder. Who is this?” he almost snarls.
“I’m Charlize.” I switch the phone to the other ear so that I can use my right hand. “Or Charlie.”
“You’re Poet’s girl?” he grunts into the phone.
“Who?”
“Put Cindy on.”
I clear my voice. Do I tell him she’s in the hospital?
