Authors: H.J. Bellus
I apply eyeliner, which I normally only use while at work and then pull back all of my curls into a messy bun, and I swear the unruly bastards just spring back up to action. An Afro is what I have. I huff out my frustrations at my reflection in the mirror.
I find a pair of comfy shorts and throw on a red tank top. I decide against it and toss on a black one instead when I hear my door open and Van’s voice echoing through my small place.
“Hey.” I pop around the corner.
“Damn, smells good, Junior.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m starving, Bay.” He closes the space between us. I feel his hands on my hips as he pulls me into him. He finds the small of my back, splaying his large palm out on it.
“No bra?” He looks down at my hardened nipples pressing through my tank.
Immediately I blush and look away.
“Stop.” He pulls my face back to his. “You’re not looking away or hiding.”
He’s different from Gannon, forcing me to face him and overcome my shyness. Van backs me up to my new couch and pushes me down. Lying below him as he pulls his shirt from his chest, I gasp at the scars that cover his skin. As he lowers himself down, my fingers dance over all of them. There has to be at least twenty or thirty of them.
“What happened?”
“Life.” He doesn’t break eye contact with me as he pulls down my shorts. I watch in slow motion as he exposes every single part of me to him.
“What are we doing, Van?”
He buries his head in my neck and begins raining kisses up and down my bare skin. “There’s something about you, Junior. Just like you said there’s something about me. I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you and that little taste I got of you will never be enough.”
My hands scramble for the button on his pants, and I work them down his hips and over his toned ass and he wasn’t lying about wanting me. His hardened cock is all the evidence I need.
“I’m a virgin and want to wait for the perfect guy.”
He rocks his hips into me, causing me to moan. I feel every inch of his hardened cock push up into me.
“Fuck,” he moans and sets back up on his heels.
“What?” I immediately feel cold and empty when he leaves me.
“I can’t do this to you.”
“What?” I ask, rising up trying to pull him back down on me.
“You’re a fucking virgin, a kid, and so fucking innocent. I’m the Big Bad Wolf.”
I grip onto his shoulders and tug him back down to me. Van keeps his eyes clenched shut as he drops his forehead to mine. In this moment, I realize I’m addicted to this man and may never be able to get enough, and it’s all so wrong, but I need the high from my drug of choice.
“I can’t explain it, Van, but I fucking want you. You’re perfection in my eyes. These scars,” I brush my fingers over as many as I can, “are gorgeous to me.”
“You have to tell me to stop.”
“I’m not going to.”
“Once I start this, Bay, you’re mine.”
“You never let me finish my sentence. I want to wait for the perfect guy to be with. One who will protect me.”
Van opens his mouth to speak, but everything has been said between us. “Just don’t break my heart, Van.”
I’m not talking physically but the state of my heart and soul.
His phone goes off again, but he only ignores it. “They can wait on their delivery.”
I want to ask who, when, and where hoping it will give me a little more insight as to where he disappears at night. Van’s lips are on mine before I can ask any further questions, and it’s like a whirlwind of actions. I try to remember every single part of this, knowing damn well he may never open up to me again.
His hand snakes down between us, causing me to buck up into him. I’m ready for him as he glides two fingers in and begins playing with me. My head slides off the couch as my back arches up to him to meet the rhythm of his fingers. My buildup pools deep inside me as I let go and spiral out of control around his fingers.
“Oh, my God.”
“No, I’m just Van Hollis, the Big Bad Wolf, not God.”
I smile up at him.
“I can’t wait any longer, Bay.”
I reach down between us and find his hardened cock and guide him to my entrance. He’s huge and God knows this is going to hurt, but it’s a desire that aches within me to have. I want Van. He slowly pushes inside of me, watching my reaction the whole time. I keep a mask on my face as the pain tears straight through me. It’s an odd sensation that makes me want to cry and scream out in pleasure all at the same.
He begins to move slowly, and I nod to him even though the pain is almost unbearable to take. He closes his eyes and lets out a low vibrating humming sound as he starts to move faster. The sound he makes relaxes me and nearly numbs my pain to a dull roar. I focus in on his face and the features I’ve come to know as rough, cold, and cruel morph in front of me as he works himself in and out of me.
Every part of me goes numb as I study his face. His teeth sink down into his lower lip, and his eyes shut tight. I rake my hands up and down his strong back.
Before my own eyes, he unfolds in front of me, baring all of his insecurities and tender side.
“Keep your eyes open,” I say.
It takes Van a few moments before he opens them back up to me and when he does, it’s like fireworks going off before me as I let go of my numbness and begin to claw and cling to his back. He continues to move in and out of me as I melt back down into the cushions after the most delicious orgasm of my life.
Reaching up, I rub my lips against his as he battles to find his own release. Van’s pace has picked up as sweat beads drop from his forehead down to my chest. I feel him enlarge inside of me. Agony is painted all over his face as he pushes into me the last time before he pulls all the way out and spills onto my abdomen. The look on his face and the deep sounds he grunts pull yet another orgasm from me.
“Holy fuck, Bay.” Van’s damp body collapses down onto mine. “You just ruined me for life.”
“Was it bad? Was I bad?” Tears instantly prick at the corner of my eyes.
His chuckle vibrates off my shoulder. “The best fuck ever.”
The word fuck stings a bit. However, when his lips touch mine, he plants a very tender kiss on my lips and it’s right then that I know he’s the one. It’s beyond scary and absolutely stupid, yet deep in my soul, I know it’s him. All the questions have been answered and buried–it’s Van who I want in my life.
“What are you thinking about, Bay?”
I look up to see Van, who has my face framed in his hands, and I can’t say the thoughts assaulting my mind. How do I tell an ex con on a mission to fuck lives up that I just fell in love with him? Or at least, I think this is the feeling sweltering up in me.
I shake my head side to side and just flash him a toothy smile. “Nothing.”
It comes out as a whisper at the same moment the fire alarm goes off.
“Oh shit!” I yell and try to bolt from the couch. Van moves to the side, letting me get up. Smoke rolls from the oven and the stovetop.
“The French bread.” I grab a towel. “Fuck.”
When I fling open the oven door, more smoke bellows out of it, making it difficult to see the loaf of bread. Using the thin towel, I grab it and toss the smoking loaf onto the counter and then quickly move the simmering pan of sauce from the burner.
“Ouch.” The searing heat from the thin towel makes contact with my fingers. “Holy shit.”
I run for the faucet, cranking on the cold water and drowning out the burning sensation.
“Are you okay?”
I look over to Van, who’s standing on top of a rickety wooden chair popping the batteries out of the fire alarm. It only takes seconds until the deafening sound halts.
He rushes to my side and grabs my hand. “Fuck, Bay.”
I watch as he kisses the tips of my fingers and then puts them back under the running water. He plants a light kiss on my forehead before waltzing away from me bare naked.
And that’s when I look down and remember I’m completely fucking naked as well. The effects of the high of orgasming and being covered by the sexiest man on Earth have long worn off as reality sets in. I’m standing naked in my kitchen with a very burned dinner.
I race to my bedroom right past Van and hurry to get cleaned up, but not even knowing where to start. The sound of the shower firing up distracts me, and then I’m being pulled by my hand by Van. He sets me in the shower and then climbs in. My hand still stings with the searing pain. Van picks it up and places it on his chest. I remain frozen and think for the first time in my entire life that I’m in complete and utter shock. I just fell in love with a bad man, and now he’s tenderly taking care of me, washing me. He even soaps up my hair and then twists it to rinse it out.
As the water runs down the back of my hair, he kisses my lips. It’s gentle and loving the way he slowly dives his tongue into my mouth, making small circles. Then the tears pour from me.
“I’ll protect you, Junior. You’re mine now,” he snaps while reaching forward to turn off the shower.
He remains in the shower while I scurry back to the room and pull on some random clothes lying on the floor. I am met at the bedroom door by Van in his jeans with the top button undone. He lifts me up.
“Wrap your legs around my middle.”
“What are you doing?” I can’t help but giggle like a little schoolgirl as he takes me back into the kitchen and sets me on the countertop.
“Serving you dinner.”
My eyes try to soak up all of his tattoos and scars in one gulp, but when he turns around to dish up the spaghetti, I notice several scratches on his back.
“Van.”
“What?” He turns his head to me.
“Your back.”
“It’s fine.”
“What happened to your back?”
“I got into a fight.”
My stomach instantly becomes sick at the thought of what happened to him or who did that to him. “They look like scratches and if I’m being honest, nail markings.”
“Bay!” He slams down a fork. “They’re scratches from a fucking fight, and I’m sure some of your nail marks are back there now too.”
I stay quiet and still as I watch him pour all the sauce from the pan on the noodles and then break up the blackened garlic bread. He brings the pot to my side along with the bread and grabs two forks lying on the countertop.
He offers me a piece of the burnt stuff. “Um, no.”
“It’s food.”
“Beyond toasted burnt food.”
“All goes in the same place.”
“Gross.” I begin picking through the pot trying to find the chunks of tomatoes.
“After years in the pen, I consider this fucking gourmet.”
“Ha. Guess you’ll keep me around for something then.”
“Yeah, food and pussy.”
“Van.” I slap his chest and then see his sly grin cover his face.
“You’re fucked, Bay, you never should’ve let me in that front door. Remember I’m like the Big Bad Wolf here to destroy your home.”
“Maybe I’m ready for the ride.”
Van brings a forkful of pasta to my lips, and I can’t help but smile before I take it.
“You work tonight?” he asks.
I nod my head as I shovel another forkful of food into my mouth. I don’t bother asking him since he’s at the club every single night I am.
“Can I ask you a question, Bay?”
I nod again realizing how damn hungry I am.
“Why are you here and living like this? You don’t have a past here or anything holding you here.”
I shrug. “I’m saving money for college. Well, art school. I know some people don’t consider that college, but I do.”
“So, why are you here and where are your parents?”
Like on repeat, I answer his question. “My mom is a free spirit freak who is more concerned about her next high. Don’t get me wrong I love her and she’s great, but I wanted more and I don’t know my dad.”
“You consider this more?”
“I do. It’s not long term.”
“It’s not.” He cocks his head to the side and darts his tongue out to lap up some sauce on the side of his lips.
“No, it’s not.” I clutch his hand in mine, trying to convey everything I want to say to him, but I’m too damn chicken to.
“My turn,” I counter to him.
“For?”
He’s so cute the way he quirks up an eyebrow when he’s curious.
“I get to ask you questions.” I pause waiting to see his reaction, but he only shovels in more pasta. “Why were you in prison? I mean what did you do?”
“I give you my dick and now you hit home with your question.”
“Van Hollis, you are a pig!”
He smiles back at me. “Yes, I am.”
His arms sneak around my waist once again, lifting me from the counter.
“You know I can walk.”
He settles down into my orange chair with me straddling his lap and then attacks my lips. I feel him grow hard beneath me again. I slap his chest and point at his nose.
“Nice try. No distractions. Answers.”
He stretches out a bit underneath me. “I was put away for a crime I didn’t commit. Set up.”
“Which was?”
“Manslaughter.”
“Someone died?” I whisper.
He nods. “Junior, I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve killed before out of survival. I’ve broken the law several times, but I never killed that man. I was set up.”
I know he’s shared some of this with me before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to digest, so I make the subject much lighter.
“I stole a pack of bubble gum when I was six.”
“Miss Badass.” He smiles brightly.
“I took it back the next day, and I snuck it back on the shelf.”
His deep laughter is intoxicating and so welcoming at the same time.
“Who set you up?” I ask.
He nods his head back and forth. “I have an idea. I have some other people helping me figure it out.”
“Is that where you go at night?”
“No, Junior, it’s not.”
“Who’s helping you?”
“A local MC club that I helped while on the inside.”
“This shit is serious,” I whisper.
“It is, baby.” He grips the side of my hips and then picks up my burnt fingers to kiss each raised blister.
“Enough about my fucking fairy tale. Tell me about your art.”
“My art?” I ask, dropping my head to one side letting the damp curls bounce over my shoulder.