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We were in bed watching TV after a sweet, slow fucking. I used a condom, and she didn’t stop me, but I was pretty sure I saw the idea working in her eyes.
“It’s got a country feel to it like I know you don’t like, but… I like to play a lot of different styles and this one might give you a bit of insight about me.”
I leaned over and grabbed the guitar for her.
“Go ahead. You sing it, I’ll listen.”
“I… put my foot in my mouth a lot when I talk.”
“No shit?” I deadpanned.
She smirked. “When I write, I can self-edit. So, maybe when I say something stupid you can try and be patient with me… give me time to self-edit and fix it?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I agreed.
She kissed me and then played me a slow ballad that would, for sure be titled Daddy Didn’t Want No Shrew by the chorus. Singing a song about a kid watching her parents fight and break up because her momma argued with her daddy all the time. Talked about how if momma had been sweet, maybe they’d have stayed together. Talked about how that girl tried to be sweet so people wouldn’t leave her, even if what they did to her made her slowly shrivel up inside. How she couldn’t scream the words in her heart because she’d wind up alone. So instead she bled them out, either on paper or on her skin. And let people walk on her.
The last verse was about finding strength, finding a voice that she wasn’t afraid to use. Talked about stopping the bleeding, because she’d found a man who wanted her to be real, how with him she felt like she might heal.
After she put the guitar down, she looked to me for feedback, rubbing her lips together nervously.
My reaction was to jump her bones. I was ready to fuck her again.
“No condom please?” She grabbed my wrist as I reached for the drawer. “Just us. Just… trust,” she said, looking into my eyes. I held her face with one hand and used the other to find her hot, wet opening. I guided my cock to it and teased for a minute, watching her eyes go liquid with need. I slid in slow, bare, and her eyes, her expression, they were laid bare, too.
I rocked my hips forward over and over, slowly, with our eyes connected, pulling all the way out each time, feeling her tight, silky heat pull me back in each time. My angle made sure it was beyond good for her and it didn’t take long before I could see she was almost there.
I whispered, “You’re mine. You’re safe. And I’ve got you. And fuck, being inside you like this is my new drug. You feel so good.”
She arched under me, huskily whimpering. I swallowed those sounds, plundering her mouth with my tongue before nibbling on her bottom lip. Feeling that tight, silky heat spasm around me with nothing between us, no filter, it was definitely going to be my addiction. After her body stopped quaking, she grabbed my jaw, looked deep into my soul, and said, “I am so madly in love with you it’s not funny.”
“Not even a little funny?” I returned.
She shook her head, body shaking with silent laughter.
“Madly in love with you, too, hostage.” I flipped her over to her belly, smacked her sweet ass, and then fucked her hard from behind with a handful of her hair in my fist, my mouth against the ridge of her ear. And then my vision turned spotty, and I loudly exploded, not into a rubber, into my girl.
I put my mouth to the ridge of her ear. “Thank you for giving this to me. I fuckin’ love you, Gianna Grace Jones.”
***
“Ella invited me to a girls’ night on Saturday,” Gigi told me a few days later.
“Yeah? This oughta be fun to watch.”
“Hm?” she asked looking up from her phone.
“You gonna go?” I asked. “That girl knows how to have fun. You could use some of that.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t know.”
“Do it. Have fun. You’ve been gettin’ along with them, right?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Ella, Pippa, Jenna, Deanna. They’ve all been great. Ella said her friends Andie and Lulu are coming, too. Andie lives next door to the salon. Lulu works there, too.”
“Know who they are,” I told her. “All seem like decent people. No Jojo?”
“Nope. She’s still away with Delia.”
There was absolutely something happening with Jojo and Fork. Gigi had even said so, after a few conversations she’d had with her about it, but she wasn’t sure what was what, other than the fact Jojo had it worse for Fork than she did Lick – and that had apparently been quite the torch carried.
Fork had taken off due to new bullshit with the Jackals, who had a bunch of new so-called members all of a sudden. They were cobbling together a new mother chapter without much care, and it showed. They didn’t have new cuts even though it was technically a faux pas to use their existing name and patch since we’d done a patch-over. A few of their new guys who didn’t even wear leather cuts, just Jackals t-shirts, jumped a few of our men who’d shadowed Fork to his job, damaging our guys’ bikes and beating them black and blue with crowbars. There were black eyes and bruised knuckles on both sides, but our guys took it the worst, being outnumbered. Then they came back on Fork’s lunch break and waited until he came out to the coffee truck, but he was ready, armed, and pulled a gun to get them to fuck off. Fork’s boss wasn’t pleased about the drama, so he was now on leave of absence, underground and working on gathering more intel in order to try and shut shit down with them for good.
