Joshua

The sun is up, and I’m buried to the hilt in Molly’s warm body. Her back arches, and I thrust rhythmically, meeting the tilt of her ass against my pelvis.

“Joshua,” she moans, and I slide my hand around her hips, tracing my fingers along her skin to the place between her legs where she’s wet and swollen.

That little bud is ready, and I pinch it lightly, circling and massaging. She moans again, and her fingers thread in the side of my hair, curling and pulling as our movements grow more focused.

Somehow I’d fallen asleep with her pretty little body spooned against mine, her back to my chest. She was only wearing my thin tank, and when the morning rolled around, I wasn’t even fully awake when I reached for her.

Now I have the best view, looking down her shoulder at her body rocking with mine, those perfect breasts bouncing with my thrusts, nipples teasing at the thin fabric of my shirt. I pull it to the side so one spills out, and I swear, I almost lose it.

Cupping her soft, heavy flesh in my hand, I roll a taut nipple between my fingers. I kiss her neck, slipping out my tongue to taste her, grazing her skin with my teeth. Her insides clench in response and sparks of light go off behind my eyelids. The sound of her soft moans, the feel of her muscles massaging my cock…

“Shit, Molly.” My voice is ragged. I’m on the edge, doing my best to stay with her until she breaks. “Come for me.”

“Joshua,” she repeats, and the desire lacing her tone is the best thing I’ve ever heard.

I thrust harder, and she whimpers. Her hand fumbles to mine on her clit, and I let her guide me, finding the right rhythm, the right pace, until she grips my hand and comes.

Her body goes rigid, and her mouth opens as her core shatters in a cascade of spasms around my dick.

“Yes,” I groan, hopping on the wave of orgasm with her.

Her body bucks against mine, and I fill her, each pulse blanking my mind with intensity. We hold on tight through the crest of ecstasy until we’re descending, floating back to Earth. All the way from heaven.

Her body relaxes; her fingers are still in my hair. We’re panting and sweaty, and her hand slides down to my cheek.

“You are so beautiful.” I kiss her palm, holding her against me as I cover her exposed breast with my hand. “Only bad thing about this position is I can’t watch your tits bouncing.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say that word.” It’s a playful fuss.

I’m ready to play. “What? Tits?”

Her lips tighten, and I do my best not to laugh. “Does it bother you that I find you incredibly sexually attractive?”

She fights a smile. “No.”

“You know how much I respect you as a woman…” I wait for her to say yes. “And I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“Then you should also know I think you have the greatest rack I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’ve seen a lot of tits.”

A laugh explodes from her. “Is that so?”

As much as I try to hold her, it’s no good. My fading erection pops right out of that warm place I love. “Shit,” I complain, and she laughs more, my badass girl.

I love the sound of her laugh. I love that I’m the one she’ll let touch her, make her laugh.

Turning her to face me, I kiss her lips. I’m about to push them apart so I can go long and deep when she pulls back.

“Morning breath!” Her hand is over her mouth, and she blinks those blue eyes up at me. Those damn blue eyes that slayed me the first night I saw her, round and deep and full of secrets.

I reach up to slide a long, silver curl behind her ear. “Sorry. I also like kissing your sexy mouth.”

Her gaze flickers to my lips. “I like kissing you. More than I expected I would.”

“I told you.”

She shakes her head, rolling those eyes.

My swagger is basically all an act. Molly has been a mystery to me from the start.

She’s like a little bird I’ve managed to lure into my home, and I’m doing my best to keep her from flying away. After almost a year, I’m only a little more confident she’s here to stay. Every new bit of information, every piece of the puzzle is a small victory.

Pulling out of my arms, she sits up and leaves the bed, walking to the kitchen.

I watch her cute little ass disappear under the hem of my shirt. “Are you going to the house today?”

While we don’t have a permanent place for them, the most desperate of the runaways are in a small house near the park. We hired a social worker to act as their resident advisor, and she’ll move into the permanent house as well once I find one I like enough to buy.

I think my dad would be pretty happy with how I’m spending his money now. I’m not dicking around in bars smoking pot all day anymore.

“Actually, I’m picking up my cousin Dean at the airport. He’s moving back to Seattle. Want to come?”

She starts the coffee, and looks over her shoulder at me. “I can’t.”

I’m out of bed, giving the overcast day a glance before heading to the shower. “How come?”

The coffee pot gurgles and blows steam, and she’s distracted, looking at her phone.

“Mol?”

Her attention snaps to me. “Oh, I have some research… I’ve got to check on a client.”

“The one from last night?”

It’s the closest I’ve ever come to pressing her for details, and as usual, she doesn’t give up any. “Um, no. I’m not working with that person anymore.”

She turns her back, taking the carafe out of the machine and pouring the dark liquid into a mug.

“Keep your phone handy. I’ll text you where we go if you’d like to meet up later.”

“Sure.” She walks to the windows, and I wait a moment longer, thinking about the last time I saw Dean’s dad, my uncle Jake.

It was right after Molly had attempted to shoot his boss, or I should say right after Jake’s boss had tried to strangle Molly. What a clusterfuck.

I’d tried to save her, and he knocked me out with one punch.

Molly’s “sister” Lara used her tiny pink gun to shoot him in the head.

“Jesus,” I hiss, remembering the blood as I step into the shower.

I watch the rivulets of water trace down the lines of muscle in my torso. After all that, Jake moved back to Tacoma, and I started lifting weights. I gained about twenty pounds of straight muscle, so the next time Molly needs help, I’ll be ready.

My phone alarm goes off, and I swear. I’ll have to hustle if I plan to catch the train to meet Dean at the airport on time.

* * *

A herd of marble buffalo surround me in the center of the Seattle-Tacoma airport when I hear Dean’s familiar voice.

“Josh?”

Turning quickly, I spot him. “Dean.” I hustle forward to give him a hug.

In five years, he hasn’t changed much. His hair is ombré pink, and he’s wearing a matching, pale pink suit. “Who is this?” Dean puts his palm on his chest and walks around me, checking me out. “When I left here you were Gerard Way!”

“I wasn’t Gerard Way.”

“You had orange hair and you refused to eat…” He’s carrying on like a mother hen—not that my cousin’s flamboyance has ever bothered me. We’ve been close all our lives. “Now you’re fucking Chris Hemsworth!”

“I’m not Chris Hemsworth.”

“Liam Hemsworth?”

“I’m not fucking Liam Hemsworth.”

“You’d better not be—I called dibs.” His sharp elbow digs into my side as we walk quickly toward baggage claim.

“Shithead.” That makes me laugh. I walked right into that one. “How was your flight?”

“Good. The flight was good, my mother is good, and no, I haven’t found a place to live yet.” He nods as if checking off a list.

“Who pissed in your cheerios?”

“Forget it. Let’s go to Pie Bar and get drunk.”

“It’s not even noon.”

He checks his pale pink Swatch. “We’ve got five minutes. Come on. It’s been ages since we’ve hung out. What else are you doing today besides spending Daddy’s money?”

I scrub a hand in the back of my dark hair. “We can go to BRGR bar and have lunch.”

“I can’t eat hamburgers. I’m on a cleanse.”

“In the Bowl has a vegetarian menu.”

“Oh, cousin.” He shakes his head. “What you don’t know about your gut.”

“I know we’d better hustle or we’re going to be waiting a while.”

The train ride to Capitol Hill is almost an hour, and Dean spends most of it talking about his senior year at the Savannah College of Art and Design. It’s cool if he hogs the conversation—I haven’t decided how much I’m ready to tell him about my last year. He’ll just ask a bunch of questions I can’t answer and then go off on how I don’t know more about the beautiful girl sleeping in my bed. The girl I can’t get enough of.

“It’s on the coast, but the weather doesn’t change there as quickly as it does here. Still, the college scene is edgy and awesome. You’d love it. Are you still hanging out at the bars, avoiding responsibility?”

“Not so much. I have a job.” The scenery changes from run down to upscale the closer we get to my neighborhood.

I don’t even notice Dean hasn’t spoken for almost fifteen seconds until I look over and see him glaring at me.

“What?”

“You have a job?” I start to answer, but he continues. “You turned into Thor’s fitter brother and you have a job?”

I only laugh. “I was dealing with a lot of shit back then. I wasn’t very happy.”

“Does that mean you’re happy now?” He inhales dramatically, placing his palm on his chest. “You’ve met a girl. It is a girl, right?”

Eyes narrow. “What do you think?”

He shrugs. “For a little while I hoped you might join my team. You were close so many times.”

“I’ve always been straight.”

“So, my cis-male friend, who is she, this girl who’s stolen your heart?”

“And just like that, I’m reduced to a gender stereotype.” Two can play his game.

“Stop dodging and answer the question.”

I lean back, sliding my palms down the front of my jeans and choosing my words. Dean is someone I can trust, but I’m not ready to go all in yet.

“She’s not from here,” I hedge.

“What does that mean? Is she Canadian? You really are gay, aren’t you.”

“She’s from the south. Louisiana.”

“Oh!” His eyes sparkle with delight. “A southern lady!”

That makes me frown. “She’s not a southern lady.”

“She’s a southern slut?” His eyes widen, then his hands fly up as if I’ve drawn a weapon. “Take it easy testosterone. I was only kidding!”

Glancing down, I see my fist has tightened on my lap, and when I go to speak, I realize my jaw is clenched. “She’s not a slut. She’s from New Orleans.”

His lips tighten, and humor flickers in his eyes. “Oh, come on, Josh. You wouldn’t hit a guy with glasses now, would you?”

“I guess I’m a little protective. She’s had a tough life.”

Not that she’s told me any of the details. Still, I’ve seen her cutting scars, and I know how fast her walls go up. My girl has some pretty deep wounds lurking below the surface, and I’m doing my best to ease her into trusting me, to letting me in and telling me what happened.

When he speaks again, Dean’s voice is quiet, serious. “Have you told her about your mom?”

My throat is immediately tight. “It hasn’t come up.”

“It’s a big part of your history.”

And just like that, it’s all right in my face again.

It’s a memory I don’t revisit often, but when it’s triggered, all those feelings hit me like a brick wall. I’m back, ten years ago, and my mom just went for her usual morning jog around the Japanese gardens, past the arboretum, near the university.

Nothing special, it was a day like any other day. Like today.

Until she didn’t come back.

When her body was recovered in the Sound weeks later, raped and murdered, it was headline news… And my family was never the same.

My dad buried himself in his work, becoming a billionaire recluse. I buried myself in music and drugs and hanging out on the streets, hanging with Dean.

Eventually, I decided staying sober and making real friends was a better alternative to whatever the fuck I was doing. I’m not sure my dad ever recovered. We never talk about it.

I never talk about it with anyone.

Perhaps it’s time to change that. I can’t expect Molly to open up to me if I don’t open up to her.

For a little while Dean and I ride in silence, listening to the rails, looking out the windows at the passing sites. The needle is in view. Mt. Rainier looms over us all.

Dean interrupts my thoughts, putting a hand on my shoulder, and his voice is kind. “Well, I can’t wait to meet her. You think she’ll join us for lunch?”

Pulling out my phone, I study the face. I’m a little shaken by having my own invisible scars dragged into the light. Those dark days aren’t so far away I don’t still feel them. Still, I have managed to find my way through the darkness.

Almost.

Maybe that old, deep scar is what drew me to Molly—I recognized the survival in her eyes.

“I’ll send her a text.”