Page 65 of Expressionate
The sun dims as the gray clouds hovering in my peripheral vision move closer together. The clouds open and rain begins to sprinkle us – lightly at first, then harder. Our faces turn upward. Rain bounces off of our chins and cheeks, reminding me of the waterfall night. It makes my resolve falter. Then he looks back at me, Tax opens the back door of the car and shoves mein.
It’s cramped, and I can’t breathe. He’s on top of me and I feel so safe, and I hate it. I hate it because it’s such a cruel feeling. Protection is fickle and so is he, though he may not know it. If he stays, he will come to despise my shadows and constant pain. I don’t want to see his eyes fog with disgust. I don’t want to see him sitting in a hospital bed like Trisha – cold and nearlybroken.
When he lifts my shirt over my head, I don’t resist like I thought I would, like I threatened to. He’s right. I’m not unwilling. When Tax pushes my jeans down until only one of the legs is hanging on, I don’t say no again. I don’t want him to stop touching me. Goosebumps skitter across my skin as he presses against me and licks a path down to my breasts. He pushes the t-shirt I borrowed from him up to reveal them. He takes my nipples in his mouth and Igasp.
Every fingertip on my skin. Every breath we share. Every heartbeat that echoes in the backseat of my car as it rains against the windows makes me feel like I’m breaking into a thousandpieces.
23
Tax
Ialmost died once. Air rushed past my face and all I could see were the people beneath me, so small they looked like tiny, little ants crawling along the sidewalk below. I stood on the edge of a great big building in the middle of the city, thinking that if I just took that last step then everything would stop. I used to live by the motto that nothing lasts forever. The good always goes away, but so does the bad. I had come to the conclusion that the only way the bad could go away this time was if I just ended itmyself.
The wind was slashing at me, and my jacket couldn’t keep the chill from making me shiver as my dirty sneakers collided with the edge of the rooftop. It was a long way down. I looked up to the sky, and the clouds were dark, like they are now, resembling the turmoil of my soul. Inside, I felt shaken and lost. I stared down at the people on the street. I told myself that someone would look up. They would care about me, even though they didn’t know me. They would have tried to rush up to pull me back from the edge. But no one noticed. They just kept walking, with their eyes looking straightforward.
As I watched them from my perch, they ignored the swirling disease that consumed me. I knew that I could have tried to open my mouth and call out for help. But I wasn’t in control anymore. If I had stopped what I was doing and called out, the wind would have swallowed my pleas. Balanced between life and death, I remained invisible to the people that could save me. I knew I would stay that way until the very moment I took that final and fatalstep.
The emotions I recognized in myself back then, before I decided against taking that step, is reflected back in Love’s eyes as I push her into the car. The light, the hope I may have seen before is growing dim – dying – with each passing moment. It utterly devastates me to see her thisway.
I cover her lips with my own and reach for her clothes. I shove up my shirt – loving that she’s wearing something of mine, like I can always be on her skin no matter where she goes. Love doesn’t fight me; some part of her that wants me to save her. To stop her from taking that step. She won’t take it. She’s too strong forthat.
“Love,” I whisper against herlips.
Blood has dried on the sensitive skin of my lips and I slowly lick until my mouth is wet again. She moans softly when I touch her. Her hair is spread out over the car seat and I reach up pulling it out of its confines, jerked roughly until it’s freed from her ponytail. What the fuck is she thinking? I run my fingers through the silkiness of the strands. She smells like her sea breeze shampoo. I nuzzle into her neck and her lips part on a gasp as my fingers run over her skin. Then I push down against her, my hand on her neck and I force her to look into myeyes.
“You’re not fucking leaving,” I growl out. My pulse hammers in my veins. My skin is slick with sweat as I reach over my back and pull my shirt over my head. I let it drop to the bottom of the back seat. “You’ll stay even if I have to tie youdown.”
Love leans forward and brushes a kiss against my pectoral before looking up at me with her green eyes and then she bites down. It’s a quick sting that sends electricity coursing through myveins.
“You can’t make me do anything, Tax.” Her voice is cold, but her bite is like being licked by fire. The sensation shoots straight to my cock. When she licks the bite mark, I snarl against my ownneed.
Cradling her head, bringing her mouth back to mine, I feel like we’re moving at an inexorably slow pace, but I know that in reality we are rushing through time at the speed of light. I shove her back. I can’t stand it anymore. I kiss her, biting down on her bottom lip. Working my way downward, I get to her nipples and bite down on them as well, relishing in her squirms as she tries to both get away from me and draw nearer. I want her to understand that I don’t give a fuck. The world is a shit place. But in everything, through the darkness, I can find her. I’ll always findher.
She tries to keep herself from moving when I line my cock up with her entrance. Right there. My cock at her fucking core and she looks away as if she doesn’t want to see. I grab her chin with one hand as I use the other to palm my cock and push through the tight confines of her muscles, tensing. She groans low in her throat, her fingernails raking paths down my back. Love’s eyes glare back at me. I get about halfway in before I can’t stand it anymore and I slamhome.
“Tax!” It’s cruel, I know. She looks up at me when I move my hand from her chin to her throat and I press back inside until I’m balls deep in that sweet pussy ofhers.
“You.” I pull out. “Are.” I power forward. “My.” She gasps when I repeat the motion. “Fucking.” I squeeze around the sides of her throat, keeping her windpipe open – cutting off the circulation. “Business.”
I fuck her hard. I fuck her like I’m going to fucking lose her. I feel like I am losing her. Why the fuck do I feel like I’m losing her? She needs to come back. She’smine. How can she even think to fucking leave me? So, I fuck her for that too. I fuck her for making me love her. I fuck her for making me hate her. I fuck her for all of the pain and the darkness. I fuck her for me. I fuck her forher.
Her eyes close and her face squeezes tight. I want so much more forher.
When it’s over, when our bodies are sated, though our souls still need work, she leans up and shoves me away. My cock falls out of her pussy and I stay in the backseat of her car, listening as she stumbles into the rain and redresses outside – despite the fact that anyone could come by at any moment, and despite the fat droplets soaking her clothes and hair as rain pours down. I put an arm over my head and fight to keep the tears at bay. How can one fucking woman destroy me sowholly?
She stands to the side and waits for me to crawl out of the backseat. I try to catch her arm as I pull up my pants and straighten my shirt over my chest, she gets into the driver’s side and nearly runs me over when she backs out and drives away. She may not have hit my body, but she sure as fuck hit my heart. Ran the damn thing over and backed up over it for good fuckingmeasure.
* * *
I’m drunk,too drunk to drive so I stumble out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, nearly tripping on my own two damn feet. Shit. Fuck. God-fucking-damn. What a fucking mess. My phone buzzes in my pocket as I look around the parking lot for my Jeep. At least I can crawl in the backseat and sleep for a while. Then I remember – my Jeep is with Blake. Fuck. I’ll have towalk.
My phone buzzes again and I curse as I fish it out of my pocket. “What?” Isnap.
“Got another fight for you tomorrow evening, you down?” the familiar voice of Screech – the fight manager – informsme.
“Yeah,” is all I say before hanging up. He’ll get the fucking message and if he doesn’t and I show up without an opponent, I’ll take my anger out on him – the money hungry worm that heis.
I weave back and forth across the uneven ground, sore and achy. Music. I need music. I always listen to music when I walk, it makes me feel less alone and I need to feel less alone right now – Love surely isn’t gonna fucking do it – less like I just lost something I’m not sure I ever evenhad.
