Sometimes I wondered what was wrong with me–why I couldn't accept happiness. Probably because whenever I felt it, it was snatched away without warning. I'd grown to like not having happiness in life because I never had to miss it once it was gone. The way West made me feel...
Instinctively, I reached up to graze the scars on my forearm. They were faded now, but I could still feel them. West saw them but didn’t say anything–which I was glad for. It wasn’t a crutch I talked about with anyone other than Remington, and that was because he caught me with my blade once. I hadn’t cut myself in a long time, but the urge to do it reared its ugly head every so often. I masked it with weed and occasionally a hookup. I developed those healthy coping mechanisms thanks to my parents and years of unresolved trauma.
A lone tear trailed down my cheek as I looked back up at myself in the mirror. The heavy feeling of loneliness would hit at random times. I usually busied myself with a book or a painting. Being here with West on the other side of the door, being nice to me, affectionate with me. It felt like he cared about me. I wasn't sure if I could accept it. Partly because it was so sudden, but also because I knew it wouldn't last. It never did.
"Yourphone'sringing,"Westshouted from his room.
With my hair still a wet mess from the shower, I dug through my bag until I found my phone. It was a number I didn't recognize but I answered it anyway. "Hello?"
"Ash? Hey, it's me."Remington.
"You're alive. How are things going? Did you get everything figured out?" I asked as I sat on the edge of West's bed. He was laying with his head propped on his folded arms, looking like a Greek God in nothing but gray sweatpants.
"Everything's fine, sis. You won't be getting hassled by anyone again. We took care of it."
I stilled at his comment. "What do you meanwetook care of it? You paid him off, right?"
Remington sighed. "I went to see Dad. He took care of it."
I fell back on the bed, my head landing near West's legs, and squeezed my eyes shut. If Dad took care of it, I knew what that meant. Whoever Remington was in with was now six feet under.
"What did you do, Rem? What did Dad do? I thought he didn't want us around him anymore. That's what he said when I went to talk to him a few years ago."
The memory of Dad telling me to leave his club's compound was seared in my brain. It was my sixteenth birthday and I hadn't seen Dad in months. I decided to buy a bus ticket over to Castle Grove and surprise him. I wanted to move in with him at the compound–in my own room, of course–and get away from Mom. I never thought he would reject me, send me home, and tell me to never come back.
Remington went on and on about how Dad was angry when he called him. How he’s paying him back in a big way–whatever that means. I had a hard time focusing on Remington's story because West got up and rounded the bed, stepping in between my bare legs. My shirt rode up my thighs when I laid back on the bed, and his hands pushed it up further, revealing my red thong.
West's eyes were hungry, and I couldn't help but take in his body. His abs, defined and naturally tanned, his thick forearms and biceps, the v-cut of his abdomen that led to his long, thick cock–which was at full attention struggling against the fabric of his sweatpants. He smirked, knowing that just the sight of him made me wet. He kissed my inner thighs, stopping at my thong before he tore it off. Literally shredded it off me. His hot tongue teased my pussy, trailing around it lightly, making me shift under him. Remington's voice was a blur. I heard words like "prospect", "initiation", and “Savage Sinner”.
"Wait, what? You're joining Dad’s club? A fucking motorcycle club? Oh fuck," I said as I bit my lip to stifle a moan as West slid two fingers in my pussy. His tongue danced on my clit, sending electricity up my body, making me rock forward to ride his fingers. He moved them in and out, curling them inside of me and making my back arch.
"Yeah, I'm going to join Dad. He didn't want to let me at first, but it was the only way the club would help," Remington continued. Dad’s club–the Savage Sinners–was a group filled with depraved and dirty bikers over in Castle Grove. Dad hated us involved in all things MC, so if he let Remington in, he must’ve been in deep shit.
West removed his fingers from my pussy and licked them seductively, his eyes never leaving mine. I tried not to pant on the phone, moving the speaker away from my face but keeping the phone close to my ear. "You know Rem, that's probably not a good i...dea!" I cried out as West devoured my pussy with his mouth. He chuckled, the vibration making me jolt, the stubble on his face brushing my soft skin. His hands pressed against my thighs to open me wider, and I started grinding on his face, chasing my release.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm...fi...fine. I'll call you back tomorrow." I hung up before getting a reply. He probably thought I was getting murdered. Little did he know, my pussy was getting savagely mauled by a hot Italian.
"What's the matter, princess? Trouble concentrating?" West pushed two fingers back inside of me, pumping in tandem as his tongue assaulted my clit. I gripped his hair, rubbing myself on him.Fuck, he felt so good.
"C'mon princess, come on my tongue. Let me taste what I do to you."
Before the words were out of his mouth, the orgasm exploded, starting in my pussy and rocketing down to my toes. "Fuck West, yes!" I shouted, louder than I anticipated. West dragged it out even longer, not stopping his tongue or his fingers until I was spent and panting.
"I love watching you come. It’s so fucking sexy." He crawled up my body, leaving kisses in his wake. Once he got to my face, he slammed his lips against mine and his tongue traced the inside of my mouth, making me taste myself. "I love seeing you in my shirt."
I giggled and he kissed me again, this time softer. One of his hands moved up my waist to my bare breast, and the other slid into my damp hair, both massaging with delicate touches. I closed my eyes as my breathing steadied under his weight, his hot touch and the orgasm calming me after a long week.
"I could do this for hours," he whispered, breaking our kiss momentarily and then going back to my swollen lips. "You're so beautiful, princess. So fucking sweet. I'm sorry." He whispered between kisses.
My eyes flew open at the statement. He rolled off me, propping himself on one elbow. His fingertip brushed up and down my arm in a repetitive motion. He was sorry for what happened two years ago. On my sixteenth birthday, after Dad broke my heart and I didn't have a way to get home, I called West. I broke down–I didn't have any practice wearing my mask of indifference at that point–and he came to my rescue. For a little while.
West's fingers gripped my chin and turned my face to him. I didn't realize I'd been staring at the ceiling. "I never apologized for what I did. It was stupid of me and I know I hurt you. I felt so bad for losing control. For having sex with you when I knew you were going through something traumatic. You weren't in your right frame of mind and I took advantage of the situation. I'm so sorry, Ashtyn." I didn't doubt a word he said. The truth was written across his face–he was sorry and remorseful. But it didn't make me feel any better about what happened.
"That's not why I got pissed and ignored you for two years," I stated, propping myself on my elbow to look him in the eyes. "I wasn't taken advantage of, as you put it. I wanted to have sex with you for...a while. With what my dad did, it just...I guess I was finally honest with myself. With you. For once."
"And I ran like a bitch. Too scared to face you. Worried that you'd regret what happened and hate me for it. For taking your virginity, for fucking you after you'd spent an hour crying in my car. I felt like an asshole."