The house is finally silent. Finally.
After Gavin left, it was as if hell broke loose in the Barber den. I had never heard my dad scream so loud or so intensely at me. And for what? Bringing home a guy that he himself had given his seal of approval to by letting him into his club? I couldn’t understand it. I didn’t want to understand it.
All I want is Gavin.
I’m not sure why I am feeling the way I am, to be honest. It’s not as if we had any connection other than a night where I bandaged his hands and stared deeply into the puddles of his eyes. But he was different from anyone I had ever met in my entire life. He was a gentleman, a protector…unlike my father.
Hours pass, dinner goes by, and my father is still ranting away at my mom and me. It’s non-stop, as if we could have prevented the scene between Gavin and Martin. We were to blame. We were the weak ones who let the snake in the door.
My mom takes the brunt of it for me. Even hours later, and I can still hear him laying into her. And not just with words. As I lie awake in bed, I can hear her body crash up against the wall with a terrible, muted sound that echoes against my wall. I would give anything to run in there and stop him, but I know it would do neither of us any good. This was how my dad calmed himself—by hurting my poor mom into submission.
I roll over, as I try not to listen to their argument, a pillow wrapped around my head as I try to shut off the sound around me. I have to will myself to a happier place just to take my mind off of it. And to my dismay, it’s back in that bed with him. It’s that kiss, the first one with its urgency and wonderment. It’s how I was the one who made the first move, how he took off my shoes with the roughness of his worker’s hands, how I could hear his voice joking with me as if I was enough for him.
Sleep takes over the scene, as I find myself back there under that hunter green comforter. We’re back to where we left off, him pinning me into place against the sheets as he pushes his hips into mine. I wrap my arms around him, begging him to come down to me, but he shakes his head no. He’s had enough of kissing.
The warm, rough skin pulls at the edges of my black blouse. I feel the jagged edge of his nails, as he slowly lifts the fabric over my prickled skin. It lifts over my belly button and up past the outline of my ribcage till it gets to wire of the black, strapless bra. He stops, admiring the canvas he’s opened up. His mouth plants a soft kiss right between the bones of my chest, and a trail up to where he has let my shirt fall, where he can just make out the full underside of my breasts.
An arm wraps underneath me and pulls me towards to him, and before I can stop him or at least pretend to resist, my shirt is over my head. The arm that is still holding me up unhooks the bra, freeing my breasts like a spring. I’ve never been this exposed to anyone in my life, but I want more of this freedom and flesh.
I place a hand around his waist and tug at the black t-shirt he has tucked messily into his jeans. It’s not as easy or as fluid for me to yank the shirt off a giant, so I get on my knees before him so that I am level with him, and in one solid pull it’s done, and we are both left to stare at one another—up close for the first time. His steely blue eyes remain on my breasts, but my hands reach out to trace the lines of his tattoos, all colorful and bold. They told a story that I want to know.
As I study the marks around his neck, I feel him stiffen underneath my soft touch. He pulls me up so that I am sitting up on his lap, still perched tightly on my knees. He lowers his mouth to my own neck, causing me to lose all control. My head tilts backwards, sending my hair cascading down my bare back. His warm mouth moves down over my shoulders and to my chest. They linger along the top of my cleavage, dipping in the curve of my breasts until finally landing on my nipple.
His tongue surprises me first. It’s as if I can feel every bump and ridge as it curls around the tip of my nipple. The sensation sends me flying back down to the pillow, him catching me mid-fall with his mouth still teasing and lapping at me. My legs hitch around his hips pulling him in for a better taste.
His teeth come next. They’re neither too sharp nor too quick, and they nibble at me as the tongue runs over the same spot. The other breast feels the weight of his hand, as he begins to gently warm up the skin. As his mouth sucks tenderly, his hand kneads deeply, massaging into me and then pulling right alongside his teeth.
My hips can’t resist this. They raise slightly, meeting his growing bulge against the thin layer of my jeans. I press even tighter up against him, loving the pressure of him rubbing on the tip of my clit. He notices it too, as the hand around my breast makes its way down to the waistband of my jeans. With his thumb wrapped in the hook of the belt straps, they slip lower and lower and lower, taking my panties with them.
“Gavin,” I whisper breathlessly, unsure of what I really need to say.
He places a finger to my lips as he says self-assured, “I know.”
The finger rests on my lips as I part them slightly. He pushes in so that I smell and taste his flesh in my mouth. His dry skin presses slightly at the roof of my mouth as it slowly pulls out and then hustles back in. On the second entry, I purse my lips together, keeping him in place. My tongue wrap around the tip of his finger just as he had done to my nipple while my teeth just gently touch down on the pad.
Gavin pulls his finger out altogether and then scoots himself up to me while a hand continues to hold me down at the hip. Our foreheads touch before our lips do, and I’m back to feeling the wave of wanting him to take hold of me as our mouths connect with a roar. I hold him to me, begging him to give me more, forcing him to kiss me deeply.
The hand that rests on my hips lifts, as I am too transfixed to notice. I feel the brush of his fingertips against my skin, but it isn’t until I feel two fingers directly on the top of my folds that I get what is about to happen. One of the two is the same finger that I just wet in my own mouth, and I’m thankful for the moisture.
The fingers circle slowly, putting pressure on my sex. The longer, middle finger hooks under to gently push away the folds of my pussy and then dips down inside. My clit practically opens itself to him like a flower primed and ready to bloom. His fingers explore the area first, gently touching at skin that’s never felt anyone’s touch before. And then, like an expert, he moves to the nub. His pressing causes me to jerk, as my own hand instantly reaches down to push him away. But he doesn’t move and instead kisses me even more intensely.
Gavin speeds up his massage while his large thumb digs into the top of my pussy just above the clit like an anchor. A third finger enters, behind the other two. I brace myself as I feel it coming. He slips himself inside me in a rush I’ve never experienced before. It sends shockwaves down my spine, causing me to curl into him, begging him for me. His finger hooks even higher into my now wet pussy.
The pit in my stomach that first opened when we kissed seems to be chiseling away with each of his movements. For every touch to my clit, it tears open, giving me an emptiness that cannot be filled. My mouth goes dry, as I find myself needing to moan, to cry, to scream. The hand that had swatted at him finds the blankets of the bed and holds on tighter while my other hand grabs around his shoulders, forcing him to look at me.
I know what is coming. I’ve heard about it before but have never felt it for myself. I want to ask him to stop. I want to beg him to keep going. And he just looks down at me with his wild, untamed face. And those eyes, those eyes that never seem to miss a thing…they hold me in place as I give myself to him.
My mind closes as everything fades to black. Everything disappears. The dream that I have created disappears around me. Gavin’s hands, his mouth, his body. Even the bed we are in melts away in a white and gray cloud, and I awaken. I’m covered in sweat, and tears that I had no idea I was crying seeping down my flushed cheeks.
The house is silent again. The silver moon pours through my open window which faces our front yard. I stare off out over the city lights and through the tree branches in search of something that tells me everything is going to be okay. And as I come to, I let myself listen in on the master bedroom next door. Thankfully, there’s nothing but the sound of my mother and father both snoring away.
After that dream, I can’t let myself go back to bed. Any other dream wouldn’t be enough for me. But as the quiet hours pass, it comes to me. I grab the phone charging on the charger, and I text the one person I know who’s going to be up at four in the morning: Alice! I need you to do me a favor.
A few agonizing minutes pass before she replies: Girl, it’s four in the morning. You can’t possibly need me to do something for you right now. Plus, I’m not exactly free, if you know what I mean.
I need you to get a hold of Gavin Wren. He’s the guy that I met at the party with the busted hand. I need him to meet me tonight. Can you do that?
There’s an even longer pause this time, as I wonder frantically if I have asked too much from her. This was my one true friend, the only person in my life I could really trust to be there for me. But she was also a Bloody Pagan loyalist with a lot to lose. Going against the club president could get her and her father in a ton of trouble. And if she let it slip to anyone that I was stepping out with Gavin, there could be even more at stake here.
Vanessa, I love you. I really do. But is he really worth this?
I write back without a second thought: Yeah. He is. And I have to see him. Can you do this for me?
She replies: I’ll arrange it. Midnight at the Sunset Bar. Moses told me that Gavin drinks with his runner friends there every Sunday night. There’s a back room there. We’ll get you in. You got a message you want me to send to him?
I go through three or four drafts before I finally send her: Tell Gavin that I want to make good on the promise to pay him back. He’ll know what that means.
She texted: Oh, I am sure we all get the gist of what you promised. There was a little mischievous winky face attached to her message.
I texted: I love you, Alice. I really do.
She responded: I love you too, but I hope you know what you’re doing.
For the first time in my life, I am certain that I do.