Tainted Love Page 7

  Now I’m even more terrified to tell him about Gabe, but I know I have to.

  “Want to dance?” Pax asks, a long while and a few too many whiskeys later.

  I nod, slam the rest of my drink and follow him onto the dance floor. He has no clue how to dance, but I enjoy watching him try; especially when he gets all hot and sweaty from trying to do the Running Man and removes his shirt. I could stare at him all night under the blacklight, watching his reptile tattoos practically come alive, gleaming underneath his streaming beads of sweat as if they’ve just exited the pond.

  “Come on, Vix, you can move these hips better than this, I know you can,” Pax taunts.

  He jerks me closer, spins me the other way, and begins to grind himself against me from behind with slow and deliberate movements as I take in the way his hands grip me only the way he can. It’s like nobody else exists when he touches me, and I close my eyes, feeling the effects of the alcohol kick in.

  “That’s it, girl,” he whispers down my neck.

  I lift my arms above my head, blindly searching for and finding his hair, weaving my fingers through it as our bodies move together to the rhythm of the music. Gabe was right, the way Pax and I move together is harmonious, mirroring each other’s movements. I feel his hands shift, one down and in between my legs and the other onto my breasts.

  I know I’m buzzing, but it feels like I am weightless when we dance like this, and fuck am I turned on… and boy is his dick letting my tailbone know he is too.

  My body is reacting to him as always, to the persistence of his hand massaging me with a determination that only Pax has, and I know if I let him keep going, I’m going to orgasm right on the dance floor.

  I stop his hand and open my eyes as the music stops, noticing the place is damn near empty as I turn to look at Pax.

  “Where is everybody going? The party is just getting started, I swear it’s only been like four hours since we opened.”

  “Don’t worry,” he says smiling wickedly, “I gave Jack and Jimmy the kill the party signal, I’d rather be alone with you tonight.”

  I glance over at the twins as they salute us with a bottle of Grey I can only assume they are taking home as payment and I watch them make their way out the door. The place is a giant mess, but it’s empty, and my heart starts to pound, realizing why Pax wants to be alone.

  “I need another drink,” I say dragging him over to the bar. I pour him his regular and slam back a double, trying to regain both my buzz and my balls, knowing I have to tell him.

  “Listen, Whiskey… there’s something I have to tell you that I know you aren’t going to like, and by not like,” I pause to gain my composure, “I mean you are probably going to want to get on your bike and either do something really stupid, or never come back.”

  Pax locks his fingers together and leans forward, his eyes tapered and brows strained at the center.

  “You went and fucked the lawyer, didn’t you?”

  “What? No, I didn’t,” I pause, stunned. “I sucked his dick.”

  My confession comes out so inaudibly I’m not sure if he heard me until he starts to laugh uncontrollably. I stand there, feeling tipsy, watching him laugh until he stops and shakes his head.

  “Was it a ‘hate blow’ or an ‘I’m going to fuck with Satan’s day’ blow?”

  “The second one,” I say, feeling the guilt rise in my chest.

  “And you seriously thought I would leave you over it?”

  He starts laughing again and pulls me onto his lap.

  “Ummm, yes, I know how you feel about lawyers, Whiskey, and I’m really sorry. I just thought that maybe if she knew how it felt… or if—”

  “Shhh,” he whispers, “I told you, Vixen. I know you, and I already know what you thought. It serves me right for always letting you take matters into your own hands. But I get it, and to be honest, I expected it.”

  “You did?” I cringe, wondering how the fuck he isn’t angry.

  My eyes are welling with tears because I have no clue how he is being so fucking rational right now.

  “Of course I did. You were born to handle your own, you’re a badass. Truthfully, it’s no different than the way I leave sometimes to take care of things I don’t want to burden you with. I love you far too much to drag you through my mud, and I know you feel the same way about me.”

  Now the tears are running down my face, so I close my eyes tight, willing them to stop. Between them, the alcohol, and the warmth of his fingers wiping my face, I swear he is an angel.

  I open my eyes and take a staggering breath.

  “I love you, Whiskey. I always have.”

  “I know.”

  He lifts my chin and our lips crash together like a storm as our tongues melt against one another’s in waves. I taste the salt of my tears crossed with the whiskey on his tongue and moan needfully as he slips my panties down and growls that growl, the one that makes me weak in the knees.

  “I need you, Kirsten,” he hisses against my neck, “but I’m taking you in the bed, so move that ass and ditch the dress.”

  Knowing I need him too, I slip the dress off and follow him to his old room in the back of the Club. I take a seat on the bed, watching as he removes his shirt and walks around lighting a few candles before he shuts off the light.

  All I can see is his beautiful silhouette in the darkness as he stands in front of me, stopping to remove his pants and let down his hair.

  “Say the words again,” he whispers, straddling his body over mine. “Tell me that you love me.”

  My pulse picks up instantly to his tone and his presence, the kindness in his voice.

  “I love you, Pax.”

  He laughs quietly to himself as he leans down, gently laying soft kisses over my stomach, his hair tickling me as he does. I’m aroused by the scent of him as he imprints his soft lips up my body before he stops to lay himself against me and focus on his hand that skilfully taunts me.

  “Hey, Vix,” he whispers.

  “Yeah?”

  “You realize I am still going to beat the living hell out of the schmuck the second he’s back, right?”

  “What?” I ask, half moaning.

  “You heard me; I’m going to make sure the mother fucker never comes near you again.”

  Unable to concentrate on his hand, I sit up and cover myself.

  “Why are we talking about him right now? I thought you weren’t mad about it.”

  Jerking me by the hips back down the bed, he growls. “Stay the fuck still,” he warns.

  He puts all of his weight on me, resuming his finger massage over the folds of my pussy. It feels incredible but I’m irritated that he just mentioned Gabe while he’s touching me.

  “Pax,” I moan in frustration, “What the hell are you doing? I asked you a question!”

  “I’m doing my Goddamn job!” he barks, continuing his methodical assault.

  I moan even louder as my body betrays me. My mind is angry, but his hand is even angrier as he begins to fuck me with his fingers.

  “Jesus fuck, Pax! Will you just slow down for a second?” I pant.

  He ignores me, knowing full well I’m pissed but past the point of being able to ignore the building climax as his thumb works my clit only the way he knows how. I press myself harder into his hand, matching his movements and his rhythm and my heart throbs in my chest.

  Running his tongue up my neck to my ear, he stops to whisper.

  “Do you still want me to stop, Vixen? Because I think you are enjoying my wrath and you’re about to spill your hate all over my fingers.”

  “Holy fuck!” I whimper, gripping the sheets. My entire body trembles as my orgasm rips through every nerve ending in my body leaving me breathless. “How the hell do you do this to me every time?”

  I look over at him smiling wickedly as he licks his fingers and winks.

  “I just know you need to be angry to climax; you’ve been like this forever and fuck do you taste good.”

>   I smile at him, loving the way he looks at me and how hard his dick is against my thigh. I grab it and stroke it, leaning down to take him into my mouth but he stops me.

  “Uh-uh, I don’t think so,” he cautions.

  “Why the hell not?”

  He grabs my wrists and in one swift movement, he flips me face down and smacks my ass.

  “Because I’m about to hate-fuck the sin out of you,” he seethes, “and when I’m done, we are going to have a chat about the schmuck once I’m not so fucking angry!”

  “Fine, Pax, fuck away then!”

  “I’m not asking for your permission. I’m warning you,” he advises.

  As always, my pussy reacts to his tone and begins to ache in need again just from the way he talks to me and controls me with his man-beast temper.

  “Lift that fucking ass so I can see that pussy, Vixen, and take a deep breath.”

  I do, knowing that he’s pissed at Gabe, and this is how he’s going to calm himself, so I inhale sharply knowing he is going to be more physical than usual. Not that I mind. I like that my body is his temple.

  He’s forceful and rough as he drives himself into me and I grip the bars in the headboard for stability, listening to his carnal sounds of appreciation. There is no slack in is impaling movements that feel like I’m being slammed by a freight train as he runs one hand onto my breast and squeezes it hard and his other onto my pussy to assault my clit again.

  I give in to the feeling, closing my eyes, loving every dirty second of it and he knows it. I can’t help but push myself back to meet his every thrust, which is both pleasure and pain against my pussy and inside my stomach.

  The harsher I moan, the louder he growls and the stricter his penetration becomes.

  “Fuck yes,” he groans. “Maybe fucking you like this will teach you not to make hasty decisions without me.”

  “Not likely,” I grunt, trying to bear down and accept his aggression.

  “Is. That. Right?”

  His tone is more destructive than I’ve ever heard from him as he lets go of my breast and wraps my hair around his fist, jerking it hard as he continues on pounding into me.

  “You might be a fucking masochist, Vixen, but I’ve got you beat,” he hisses into my ear. “I’m trained not to give a fuck what you think, how you feel, or what you want. So, I can keep this up for hours, but if you come for me, again, I’ll stop and return the favor.”

  “What did you just say?”

  I stop moving to his tempo and drop to my stomach, waiting for him to realize I’m done.

  “What the fuck, Vix?” he asks, letting go of my hair. “I almost had you right where I wanted you.”

  “Get the fuck off of me, Pax.”

  I roll over and look up at him trying to breathe, but his words keep playing in my head on a loop.

  “What happened?” he asks, “Why do you look so upset?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I sit up and punch him in the peck so hard I groan in pain.

  “Well don’t hurt yourself, shit,” he laughs, seemingly confused.

  “It’s not funny, you big dummy! God! Did you even hear what you just said to me?”

  He shrugs and shakes his head as if he isn’t even from the same planet.

  “No, I was kind of in the moment.”

  I can tell by his sweet face he really has no clue what he just admitted to me, and it’s taking everything in me not to cry.

  “Whatever I said… I’m sorry, I take it back… Let’s just start over, I can do better,” he pleads.

  The disappointment on his face breaks my heart as the tears start to flow from my eyes. I can’t stop them as I cover my face and don’t know whether to throw up or hide. The man I love not only thinks he is a trained rapist; he thinks he can do it better… and I made him feel like he was sucking at something he clearly thinks he’s good at. What is wrong with me?

  My God, how did I not see how broken he is?

  “Vixen, are you okay? Fuck, will you talk to me, please? At least tell me where this is coming from. I’ve never seen you cry.”

  “I just need you to stop talking for a minute,” I undertone.

  I feel like I’m stuck in quicksand, sinking, afraid to do or say the wrong thing and he just keeps making it worse because all he can do is worry about me crying!

  I mean, what the fuck?

  I wipe the tears away and take a deep breath.

  “Come here,” I tell him.

  He moves closer and I guide his conflicted face onto my stomach, so he is looking up at me as I run my fingers through the lengths of his hair.

  “You know you’re a good person, right?”

  I ask it not knowing what else to say as he stares up at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “Some days, yeah, I guess,” he shrugs. “Why? What does it have to do with anything?”

  “First of all, you are a good person every day, Whiskey, and second,” I pause to kiss his forehead, “it has everything to do with us. You and me… the way we work together. The way we fuck to get out of our headspace.”

  “Okay… I’m still not sure what you are getting at, so can we just go back to the fucking?”

  He smiles that stupid grin he does when he’s not listening to me because he still horny and I roll my eyes.

  “No, Pax,” I say, smacking him lightly. “I’m being serious right now; I don’t think you understand how much your childhood affected who you are. And I want you to know that I love you and no matter what you say it will never change that, but I want you to get some help.”

  His eyes narrow as he crosses his arms and scoffs.

  “What the fuck, Vixen? Are you serious? I don’t need help, and I sure as fuck don’t need you treating me like I’m a Goddamn victim of some kind or looking at me like I’m weak.”

  “You know that’s not what I’m doing, you are the strongest pigheaded person I know, you are anything but weak. I just think you need to get some of your story off of your chest, talk about the abduction with a professional so you can start to heal, that’s all.”

  “That’s all, huh?” he gripes as he gets up and throws his clothing on. “Well fuck that, I don’t need to take this shit… least of all from you Vixen. When’s the last time you talked to a fucking shrink about Satan and the way she uses your head like a carnival game of Smash the Bottles? Fucking hypocrite.”

  I say nothing knowing he’s right as he slams on the light and searches for his keys.

  “I’m going for a ride; I’ll see you when I see you.”

  “Wait, Pax!” I beg, “You’ve been drinking, I’ll leave and go home if you need space.”

  He looks at me and shakes his head in disappointment.

  “See you around.”

  Seven

  Loud Silence

  The main house is empty, the guesthouse is empty, and my fucking bed is empty. I’ve been sitting here in radio silence for five days going insane wondering how far I pushed Pax past his breaking point, wishing I had said or done something differently. He said he loved me because I felt like home, never judged him, and never asked questions. I guess I screwed all of it up and I wonder if he still loves me, or if he’s ever coming back.

  I’ve spent the last five agonizing days trying to do anything and everything not to hit the bottle to numb the throbbing in my chest and stuff down the tears, but there are only so many things I can do to keep busy.

  It’s gotten so bad that whenever I hear the roar of an engine, I run onto the street like a lunatic hoping it’s Pax, only to find out it’s one of the twins or both of them, or some other fucker that makes me realize how much I love him and need him to come home. By Wednesday, I was so stir crazy I took a cab down to the tattoo parlor and spent three agonizing hours in the chair getting my first and last tattoo, it fucking stings but it reminds me that I am alive, that I am deserving of love, and in a way, seeing it define my hip, I realize how much I can’t bear to be without Pax. I’d hoped getting a t
attoo might set me on common ground with him and get him to tell me the story of how he got all of his. I’ve asked a billion times, but he’s always shut me down. If he won’t talk to a shrink I figured maybe he could learn to talk to me.

  Then when I woke up this morning to an empty bed again, I promised myself I wouldn’t do what I’ve been considering since the night he left, but now that I’m sitting here staring at a bottle of whiskey, I know what I have to do.

  Like Pax says, I’m not allowed to turn into my mother.

  I grab my backpack, my keys, and my helmet and head out to the main garage. I haven’t been in it since Dad’s death, but I have no choice now. I need the Harley he left me. I’m going to Fairmount to find Pax and bring him home.

  I take a deep breath as I hit the keycode on the panel on the wall and wait for the door to open. Stepping inside I take a quick glance around and ignore my inner hurt that tells me to either cry or break some shit as I spot the bike, climb on, flip the kick stand, and start the engine.

  The bike is hella heavy, but the rumble between my legs is so powerful my heart begins to race as I rev the engine and tell myself that no matter what I see when I get there, this is my only option.

  Here I come, Pax.

  I’ve never driven a bike, let alone left the Hill to go any further than the liquor store, so a six-hour ride on this beast should be interesting.

  On the highway, I feel nothing but freedom as I squeeze the clutch, pop it into fifth gear, and turn the throttle, speeding up to 65mph; this motherfucker is badass. I’ve never felt more alive than I do right now, and I think I’ve found a new love for driving motorbikes.

  By the time I pass the junkyard in the middle of nowhere, it’s been close to two hours and according to the map I downloaded from Google, I know there is a rest stop ahead in the next forty-five minutes.

  I pull into the station a while later to refuel and clean the bug guts off of my visor. My legs are sore as shit and I’m walking as if I’ve just been fucked for days, so I decide to stop in at the diner to rest.