Devil's Despair Box Set: Books 1-3 (90 page)

I’m still not sorry about what I did. The rich fucker had it coming. Sarah most likely wasn’t the only woman he’s pulled that shit on.

“Have you read the letter?” I ask bluntly, breaking the relaxed moment we were enjoying. I know she hasn’t opened it, but I want to bring it up carefully and have no other way to do it. I’m not accustomed to Sarah in a sexual sense yet, but figure now is as good a time as any in case she decides to bolt.

“No.”

“I’m gonna need you to do that.”

“I can’t. I’m not ready.”

Sighing, I pull her closer to me and kiss the crown of her head. “You’ll never be ready.”

“When your dad died, how long before you were able to let him go?”

“I still haven’t.”

The truth comes out before I’m able to stop it. I’m with Sarah, she knows me, she remembers what my life was like the year following his death. She also remembers Raegan coming into our lives not too long after that, and her presence, even with her not knowing it, helped me through my grief.

“You still miss him,” she whispers.

“Every fuckin’ day,” I tell her.

“Tell me what you remember of your mom,” she asks me, but doesn’t know what she’s asking
of
me.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. You’ve always shared with the guys, but never me.”

I laugh, I can’t help it. “You were too busy with Barbies and baking, Sarah. You couldn’t sit still long enough for me to read you a book, let alone tell you about my mom.”

“I’m listening now,” she says.

Kissing her head, I return, “You are.”

“Well?”

Clearing my throat and figuring out where to start, I tell her what I know I remember for certain. “Mom was flighty. She would be calm one minute, then yelling at my dad the next. I remember she randomly brought a dog home once.”

“As in, just decided to bring a dog home?”

“Yes,” I answer. “I couldn’t tell you the size of it, cause at my age any dog would’ve been a big one. I remember my dad wasn’t happy with it. That weekend the doorbell rang. Turns out, my mom had stolen the dog from the neighbors down the street and they happened to catch my dad letting it outside that morning.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t good. I don’t remember her reasoning, but Dad was fuckin’ pissed.”

“I liked your dad a lot.”

“He’d like that we’re together, I think.”

“I drove him crazy, though.”

She’s right. She did. When Dad would ask if Sarah was coming over with Ace and I’d confirm it, I remember Dad’s expression. Sarah would corner him, wherever he was in the house, and ask him a zillion questions, while Ace and I hung out in the basement and messed around with our music sheets and equipment.

“You drove him crazier than you do me, I think.”

“He was so nice to me. You’re not.”

“I was nice a few minutes ago. Do I need to remind you of this again already?”

“My ass hurts. You can’t hit me that hard.”

I laugh, grabbing her and positioning her on top of me. I move the hair that’s draping around our faces and tug it gently. “I don’t hit you.”

“You slapped my ass! It’s the same!”

I pull her hair harder and she gasps in my mouth as I kiss her. The feel of her tongue on mine in such an assertive way leaves me breathless.

“Aggressive,” she states, rolling off me and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Where are you goin’
now?
”

“Bathroom. It’s a reasonable request, isn’t it?”

“Three minutes.”

She stands, turns around, and looks down at me. Her naked body isn’t my focus, although I’d never get enough of looking at it. I’m staring at her hard expression.

“You’re not timing me in the bathroom, Travis. That’s ridiculous.”

“If you’re not back in three minutes, I’ll come in to get you—ridiculous or not.”

Her nose scrunches and she winces at the visual. “You’re sick.”

Sitting up, I get out on the opposite side, make my way to her, and step in close. She starts inching backward, step by step, with a smile on her face as she realizes I’m coming after her. I heave her over my shoulder, give her ass a quick slap, and continue moving out the bedroom door.

“That’s my ass you keep hitting.”

“Spanking,” I state. “I don’t hit you,” I correct again.

“Well, stop doing that. It hurts.”

“Stop buggin’ me and I won’t have to.”

“Jerk,” she calls me, and I feel her teeth sink into my lower back right after.

“You drive me nuts,” I tell her as we exit her room.

“You love it,” she returns.

“I probably do.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Travis

“MOM,” I SAY
quietly in her ear after the man who had been yelling at her walked out the front door. “Mom,” I repeat.

She doesn’t answer.

My stomach starts to turn with the smell that smothers the room. I grab my blanket and climb on the couch and stare at the television, wishing my dad would get home soon. I miss him when he’s gone.

I don’t know how many minutes go by, but my ear hurts and I vaguely remember being at the doctor’s office the day before. My purple medicine sits on the counter. I think about drinking it how my mom showed me but the pounding at the door frightens me and I jump off the couch, grabbing the blanket as I fall to the ground.

“Mom!” I plead louder than before, hoping she wakes up.

A large man I hadn’t seen before walks in and glares down in my direction. He doesn’t say anything before he starts to come toward me; his black boots cause the trailer floor to shake with each step.

I scoot back until my back hits the couch, then turn to run, but he catches me before I can get far.

“There you are, you little shit.”

* * *

My chest aches as I sit up straight in bed. The blanket falls to my lap as I look down and find I’m covered in a sheen of sweat.

This part of the nightmare was always hazy before. It’s not anymore. The nightmare is continuing. The characters of my imagination are coming into focus, or I’m remembering more of what actually happened.

My feet hit the floor and I use the palms of my hands against my eyes to help them focus. When I re-open them, the room is dark and the light from the alarm clock is blinking. The rain hits the window quietly.

Thankfully, an early spring storm startled me awake.

I’m not sure what caused the nightmare. At times, when I refused to acknowledge my dad was gone, the nightmares would subside long enough for me to remember him with the peace I always should. I don’t think there will ever be a time I don’t miss him as much as I did the day I buried him.

Turning around, I look to find Sarah still sleeping soundly. She lies quietly on her side, resting her head on her arm with the pillow under it. I see now what she wore to bed after our shower.

Lying back down carefully, so I don’t wake her, I rest my elbow on the bed and use my hand to hold my head, and get comfortable. I’m close enough to her to watch her eyes flutter open slightly, then even in the dark of the room I can see as she looks up at me.

“You’re staring,” she utters quietly. “Creeper.”

“I’m not. You were snoring.”

Her eyes widen in surprise at my lie. She sees my smirk and her eyes narrow slightly. “You’re not nice.”

“What are you wearin’?” I ask before pulling the covers down carefully and exposing the silk nightgown she told me she bought a couple of months ago while she was out shopping with the girls.

“You said I couldn’t wear your shirts.”

“I don’t care if you wear them as long as you’re layin’ next to me when you do.”

She looks at me for a few minutes, assessing my mood as she does, then asks, “Why are you awake?”

“Told you, you snore.”

“That’s a lie, because I don’t.”

I want to tell her what woke me. She’s been witness to the horror I experience with nightmares, but I don’t want to burden her with knowing I experience it more often than she may think.

“Can’t sleep,” I admit, not necessarily a lie but not entirely the truth.

Moving her body to mine, she pushes my chest down with her hand and positions herself under my arm before she pulls me tightly against her. My fingers run through her hair as we both lay in silence for a few minutes.

Sarah breaks the quiet first. “I think I’m ready for you to tell Ace.” I tilt my head down to see her face, but her eyes are aimed at the window next to the bed. “I know it’s only technically been a couple of days but I feel like we’re lying to everyone. I don’t like it.”

“I know.”

Sitting up, she braces her arms on my chest and asks, “You don’t want to tell the others?”

“I do, Sarah. If you want me to tell him, I will. I’d like more time with you first, but if this is important to you I can tell him as soon as tomorrow.”

Her mind clicks through scenarios; I can see this because her face tenses. “Maybe we should wait.”

“Sarah,” I call to get her attention. “It
will
be okay. I swear it. He’ll be pissed, but no more than I was with Hayden and Lacey.”

“You’re not Ace. Lacey and Hayden didn’t grow up together like we did.”

She’s right; she has a valid point, but I don’t confirm it. Instead, I try to distract her. “Want me to help take your mind off it?”

“Are you still broken?” she asks, running her fingers over my still-bruised ribs.

“I don’t think you thought I was broken before the shower, or during, or after either.”

“You were, but I’ll let you believe you weren’t.”

“Is that a yes?” I ask, leaning down and kissing her lips softly.

Sarah doesn’t answer me, but her body moves slowly, positioning over me until she’s straddling my waist and looking down. Her long, soft blonde hair drapes her face when she leans in to kiss me.

My hands grasp her thighs, and I make the move to sit up, but she refuses this by pushing on my chest to keep me in place underneath her.

“I want to see you,” she tells me.

“I’m right here.”

Her finger traces the lessening bruise under my right eye and she leans in to kiss it softly. Then she stretches her body over mine to turn on the lamp beside my bed. Our eyes adjust to the light at the same time.

“Better?” I ask, lifting the nightgown over her thighs and finding she’s not wearing anything underneath it. My hands grip her bare ass and squeeze it roughly then move to the front of her.

“Yes,” she whispers as my fingers trace the inside of her leg before making contact with her clit.

She tilts her head to the ceiling and raises her body off the bed using the strength of her thighs. Her hand comes between us, making contact with my ready cock, and we both lose our breath as she slides down onto me. Her body stiffens momentarily before it becomes accustomed to taking me in this position. Her mouth opens and I catch a glimpse of her pink tongue when it darts out to moisten her bottom lip.

Losing patience, I rasp out a demand. “Ride me, Sarah.”

She focuses on my face and the look of desire transforms back into the Sarah I’m used to. “Don’t be bossy.”

“Ride me,” I say again, grabbing her small waist with my hands and moving her body back and forth. The warmth of her pussy has already become a craving I won’t deny myself; it’s the final piece of her I’m still growing used to.

Understanding my refusal to stop, her hands find my wrist and squeeze gently. I release her hips and she laces her fingers through mine and rests them on either side of my head. Her chest is inches away from my face so I accept the offer. My teeth grab her nipple through the lace of her nightgown and I suck it hard. She fights this briefly, and her hands release mine to find their way through my hair. She tugs roughly to get my attention. I look up and find her breathless and
smirking.

“Is this funny?” I ask.

“Hilarious,” she whispers, moving her hips back and forth.

“Funny?” I question, while using one hand to stroke her nipple through her nightgown, and moving the other to find her clit. “Hilarious,” I repeat as I rub her clit gently and feel her reaction on my cock when she tightens around it.

“Travis,” she exhales my name as she scrapes my chest with her fiery red fingernails.

“You wanna to be fucked slow or hard?”

She doesn’t answer, but my words fuel her body above mine and her hips move faster and with more deliberate movements.

“Aggressive?” I ask.

She still doesn’t answer as she looks at the ceiling. Her hair drapes down her back and I sit up, wrap it around my wrist and pull it gently. I bite the soft skin at her neck and listen as she moans, still riding me.

“Intense?”

Again, she doesn’t answer, but continues taking me in and out of her—harder and faster.

Frustrated with her lack of verbal confirmation, I stop her from moving and grab her ass. Lifting her quickly, I position her underneath me and fit my body between her open thighs. My cock slides into her. When I look down at her, her eyes are open and shining with her usual mischief.

“How do I make you feel, Sarah?” I demand, as I continue thrusting into her as deep as I can get. “Tell me.”

Sarah’s obviously not one to converse during sex. I am, so she’ll have to learn that when I ask for a response, I expect to get one. When she refuses to acknowledge what I’m asking, I start to lose patience. “Up on your knees then. Ass in the air.”

Her eyes grow wide and her head shakes in fear. “No, Travis. I haven’t. . . .”

“I’m not taking your ass tonight, Sarah. Do what I’m tellin’ you and move.”

Without questioning me further,
thank fuck,
she positions herself as I’ve instructed and I rest my body behind hers, take my cock in hand, and sink into her again. With added penetration she moans at my entrance and her hair falls further down her back. With one hand on her hip to keep her in place, I use the other to wrap her hair around my wrist and pull her up; my continued thrusting causes her to hold her breath.

Her face is close to mine and I hear myself hiss in her ear, “Now, tell me how I make you feel, Sarah.”

“It’s too much,” she pleads right before her climax hits and the scream of her pleasure surrounds us.