FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (53 page)

J.

He needed no more encouragement.  Ignoring the stab of pain in his side, J. pushed himself up on his arms.  Her eager hands grabbed for him, guiding him to slide up inside of her.

The warm wetness enclosed him, so eager and welcoming that he almost lost it then.  That would have been a disaster.  He wanted to stay here forever, moving inside of her gently, watching her wide blue eyes stare up at him, her raspberry lips parted in ecstasy. 

"I love you."  He meant what he said.  A man's word was his bond and as he moved inside of her, feeling the mounting intensity rise inside of him, he knew that he was forever bound to what he said. 

"I love you too."  She kissed him so fervently that he couldn't help but push inside of her harder.  She squeezed her eyes shut and clung to him.  He felt her soft thighs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, pushing him higher.  He was going to explode if he kept this up.

"Baby girl, I want to see you."  He pulled away, shivering slightly in the sudden cold of the room.  She watched him, panting, as he carefully stretched himself out on the floor.  He winced a little, but hoped she didn't see his pain in the dark.  He turned upright, facing the ceiling, and beckoned to her.

She hesitated.  "I'm not....I'll hurt you."

"I guarantee you that you won't."

"I'm too heavy."

"Ain't you always telling me how big my muscles are?  You think I can't hold you?"

She opened her mouth to protest again, then shut it.  He felt her small hand circle his bicep and he grinned in the dark.  "Yeah, that," he murmured.  "That's for you, honey."

Her other hand moved down his torso.  He grunted as her fist closed around his erect member.  "Is this for me too?" she whispered.  The little teasing lilt in her voice almost drove him out of his mind.

"All for you."

"What should I do with it?" Her hand was moving along his shaft.

"Whatever the fuck you want," he groaned, thrusting his hips in time with her strokes. 

Her mouth on him caught him by surprise.  When she flicked her tongue across, he lost control.  Grabbing her by her arms he hauled her up across his body so her pale white body was above his own.  He pushed up with his hips and found the hot wetness of her center and drove himself home.  She cried out and reared backward, meeting his thrust halfway. With a long shuddery moan, he forced himself to slow down and let her take her pleasure. Her hips ground into his, rocking back and forth.  Her generous breasts swayed tantalizingly out of reach of his yearning mouth. 

"Fuck," he gritted.  Holding back was about to kill him.

He pressed his thumb directly onto her buzzing nub.  Her eyes, which had been squeezed shut in concentration, flew open wide.  She gasped and pressed her hands into his chest, heedlessly grinding herself against him.  When he felt her body tighten and shudder, he pressed harder, kneading the soft skin of her buttocks in his other hand.  She threw her head back and arched her back.  J. saw her bite her lip, stifling a long, low moan that increased in frequency until it built into a scream.  Desperately she cast herself forward, pressing her face into his neck to stifle her wild cries. 

When he heard her take the last shuddery breath of her orgasm, he let himself go.  Thrusting powerfully upward, he took his pleasure finally.  His pain-wracked body spasmed and stiffened and he pulled her down roughly so that he could press himself ever further upward.  She bathed his neck and face in kisses as he grunted then groaned deeply.

He didn't want it to end.  His pleasure was tainted with disappointment that it was over.  He would have been content to stay inside of her forever, hidden away from the pain that reawakened the minute she pulled herself free.  J. inhaled sharply, suppressing the moan again, this time for a different reason.

"Are you okay?" Her hand was on his forehead.  The tenderness in her touch was something he was still getting used to. 

He wanted to lie.  He wanted to hide the truth of how much pain he was in.  She must have sensed it.  "Never mind, don't try to make me feel better."

"Why should you feel bad?"  He was genuinely curious.

"Because you got hurt coming to rescue me."

He closed his eyes.  Exhaustion was creeping in and he looked forward to the oblivion of sleep.  The only problem was that it would rob him of her presence for a short time.  He wrapped his arms around her tightly and pulled her down to nestle into the crook of his shoulder. 

"I would do it again," he sighed into her hair.  "And again and again and again."

He knew she didn't quite believe him.  As he drifted into sleep, he vowed to prove it to her over and over until she finally did.

Emmy

The windows in the living room faced east.  Of course they did.

My eyes flew open when the first shaft of light pierced my eyeballs.  "Shit!" I hissed, scrambling out from under J.'s arm.  "J. wake up, we need to put some clothes on."

He rolled on to his back and grunted.  "Why?"

I rolled my eyes at him.  "Because we're naked in my parents' living room."

"Yeah," he looked me up and down. "I don't mind that."

I grabbed his jeans and threw them at him.  "Get dressed." He blinked lazily at me, a slow sarcastic smile that would have melted my resolve at any other time. "Please, J. I want to get the fuck out of here."

I pulled on my clothes hastily, my mind going a million miles a minute.  My parents could wake at any moment.  We needed to be gone before they did.  I pulled on my socks and tiptoed carefully up the stairs, my memory of the floorboards that squeaked helping me move silently across the hall to Andy's room.

I knocked softly and pushed at the door with my toe.  My brother was flopped face up on the bed, so there was no shying away from the injuries on his face.  His split lip was still fat and puffy, dragging his mouth down into a sordid leer.  His swollen eye was covered in a radiating bruise, yellowed at the edges and darkening to a vicious purple over his nose. 

Though every instinct I had shrieked at me to stay there and watch over him, I knew that I couldn't.  He was depending on me to get out and get on my feet.  "Andy?" I whispered gently.

His eyelids fluttered open.  "Em," he croaked.

"Andy, I'm leaving now."

"Mmm." He rolled onto his side and looked at me and for a moment I saw the lost little boy who needed me to protect him from our father.  "Okay," he said, but his voice wavered and caught in his throat.

"Andy, thank you."

"Don't thank me."

"Yes, I'm going to thank you. And as soon as you're eighteen, if you want to you can come live with me, okay?"

"Really?"

"I promise."

He rolled over and looked at the ceiling. "You have six months to get your shit together, Em," he croaked.

I stifled a laugh that ended in a sob.  "Plenty of time," I winked.

There was no place on his face that I could kiss him without fear of causing him pain.  So I lifted his battered knuckles to my face instead.  I kissed the back of his hand, all scraped and raw, then pressed it to my face.  "I love you."

"Love you too, Em," he whispered.   "Now get the fuck out of here."

I grabbed the list of sublets that still sat in the tray of his printer and waved them encouragingly at him. Then I blew him a kiss and turned quickly to hide my tears. As I stepped out into the hall, I thought I heard my mother stirring and was hit with another wave of guilt.  I couldn't face her today.  Not after all that had happened. I would call today, I promised myself.  Just as soon as I had a chance.

I tapped my old door open.  Case was lying face down in my bed.  It looked like he had just fallen down and stayed like that.  "Case?"

He pushed himself up so quickly I stepped back in alarm.  "You okay?"

"Yes," I breathed and his shoulders relaxed.  "But I want to go now."

"Yup." He swung his legs over the side of my bed which bowed dangerously in the center. 

J. was waiting for us downstairs, sitting gingerly at the edge of the recliner.  "Ready?" he asked.

"Just one thing."  I tiptoed quickly to the kitchen and found a scrap of looseleaf from Andy's school binder. 

I'm okay.  I will call.  I love you, - Emilia

"I'm ready."

Without Case there, I don't know how I would have gotten J. to the car.  I was grateful for his immense strength.  J. tried valiantly to move on his own, but his injuries combined with the stiffness of sleeping on the floor had rendered him barely able to stand upright, much less walk.

"Goddamn, fuck!" J. spat as he leaned so heavily on my arm I stumbled.

"For fuck's sake, stop trying to walk, you stubborn piece of shit," Case admonished.

"What you think you could carry me?"

"With one hand.  You're an adorable little stringbean." Case smiled.

I saw J. duck his head, his mouth working hard to suppress his smile.  "I'm not descended directly from Vikings." He held out his arm and ran a finger along the smooth chocolate skin.  "Clearly."

"Yeah.  Too much melanin, I'd say."

"Least I don't get sunburned by the moon."

Case was smiling widely, his face registering relief.  Something unsaid had passed between them. The apologies he made last night seemed to have been accepted.  I wondered if I would ever know, then decided I was too tired to worry about that too.

We got J. into the passenger seat of the pickup with much swearing and shoving.  I got behind the wheel of the unfamiliar vehicle and paused. 

"You okay?"

I sat back in the seat, noticing the papers still clutched in my hand.  J. noticed them too.  "Whatcha got there?"

"J.," I started to say.  "I'm not going back to the clubhouse with you."  I heard how harsh I sounded and hated it.

"You're what?"  He sounded incredulous.

I waved the papers, clenching them like they were a lifeline.  ""I can't keep doing this." I shifted away from his distracting nearness and tried to soldier on with what I had to say in spite of his crestfallen face.  "Running from place to place, depending on other people to put me up. I need to stand on my own two feet."

He leaned in to me across the bench seat.  His eyes were alight with excitement.  "I thought of that, Em," he said eagerly. "Randall said he'll take you.  He owes me, you know how he owes me." His lips were suddenly at my neck, peppering kisses with every word.  "You'll be safe there.  He'll keep you safe."

"That's not your responsibility," I squeaked.  His lips on my skin made it hard to think. 

"Yeah it is," he growled.  "I'm not living with this worry anymore, and I sure as shit am not living without you."

"And I'm not living without you," I murmured.  I placed a hand on his chest and pushed slightly.  "But J., this is crazy."  He must have been absolutely desperate to go to his family like that.  The thought of him swallowing his anger to supplicate himself on my behalf brought tears to my eyes.  "I can't do that."

His mouth opened a little and I could tell he was going to protest.

"No don't," I held up my hand. "I can't go live with your family.  Thank you.  But I can't."

"You can." But the fire had gone out of his words.  He was listening.

I tried to explain to him, make him see.  "If I don't learn to take care of myself, then what is all this for? I've bounced from father to fiancé to," I hesitated, "boyfriend," he smiled a private smile, "and all this time they've taken care of me. For better and usually for worse."  I sighed and grabbed his hands, rough and calloused and strong.  "I need to be on my own, in my own space.  I need to know that I can do this."  I waved the papers at  his still uncomprehending face.  "I'm looking for sublets. An apartment all my own for the summer! I'm going to live on my own!"

HIs shoulders slumped with relief and I flung myself into his arms.  "You had me scared there, Em," he murmured, stroking my hair back from my face.

"What did you think I meant?"

"Thought you'd finally come to your senses or something."

I laughed into his shoulder, smelling his scent.  "I have come to my senses," I scolded him.  "Finally."  I pulled back to look him in the eye, square and true.  No subservience, no dependence. As equals. 

The sun was just peeking over the hills as we rounded the entrance to the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

It was the morning of a new day and the dawn of the new Emilia. 

Teach didn't say anything, only dropped the paper to the ground as J. prepped the bike for the long-distance ride.   J. looked at the fallen paper and  saw the business section of the Inquirer blaring the headline, "Whitestone Looks to Future in Face of Failures."

A streak of bad luck, both personal and business related have plagued Robert Whitestone III, the younger scion of the Philadelphia establishment.  His properties have been met with a plague of vandalism.  His own car was stolen in broad daylight from a parking garage at 4th and Walnut.  Citing intimidation from sources unknown, his five person staff quit his office the same day, leaving him scrambling to hire and train temp workers.  All this distraction has been costly to the family business.  Philly real estate watchers cite the eleventh hour breakdown of negotiations for the new office tower at 23rd and JFK to be the biggest slip-up of his up-to-now storied career.

"Good," he nodded.  "They're keeping him busy."  Reminding him that they were watching.  He had to hand it to the Storm Riders.  Their network was a lot larger than he had first realized.  It was safer to have Robert's harassment be at their hands than at his.  Much less satisfying, though.

Case appeared over his shoulder, scanning the paper quickly.  "I still say we should have just taken the fucker out," he growled.

"Wasn't our call." J. sat back on his heels and squeezed the paper in his fist, crushing the picture of Robert Whitestone III looking hopefully towards the future. "It was Emmy's call.  And she ain't like that." 

Case ginned a lopsided little half-smile.  "Where the hell has she been, anyway?  I miss her.  And her tits."

"You are such an asshole." J. shook his head and slammed his kit shut.  His bike was prepped for this afternoon's ride to the Shore.  It was going to be good to get out of the city for a while.  He had been stuck here too long.  "She's been moving.  That chick Sammie..."

"I like her tits too," Case interjected fondly.

"Can I finish?" Case smirked as J. continued.  "They got an apartment together down in South Philly.  I'm fucking relieved she's out of that rathole sublet.  She loved it but it made me crazy having her in a basement apartment."

Case nodded.  "Anyone could have kicked those windows in."

"Don't remind me.  Her new place is above street-level."  J. walked over to the trash can and shoved the newspaper section deep into the smelly recesses.  "She's been moving in slowly all week, in between shifts at the restaurant.  I'm supposed to go help today.  Move some things around before we ride out."

"Watch your posture," Case warned.

"You are such an old woman.  Watch my fucking posture, really?"

"Shut up and be careful."

J. pressed his lips together.  Case was right.  He still hadn't fully healed from the brawl that awful night at Emmy's parents'.  His neck was prone to locking up with stiffness, making riding all but impossible until he could stand to turn again.   His knee, which had born the brunt of the impact when he landed on the pavement, had never regained its full range of motion. 

It pissed him off on a daily basis to have to coddle it, but the only other option was to go to Hahnemann for surgery and who the fuck had that kind of money?  Doctor D. didn't have a practice anymore.  The best he could do was call in favors at pharmacies.  So J. downed pain pills chased with bourbon and tried to grit through it. 

Emmy didn't know any of this, of course.  He knew how guilty she still felt about the damage Robert's goon had inflicted on him.  Sometimes as they lay in bed after making love, she would trace the scars left over and her eyes would go dark and empty. J. knew not to question her when the blankness took over.  He could only hold her until she came back to him.  He, of all people, understood what it was like having that darkness take hold.

"I'll be careful," J. agreed. 

Case nodded, his eyes darting back and forth over J.'s face before nodding again and heading towards the bunkhouse.  Case's hovering was starting to get annoying.  J. could tell him ten thousand times that he was over it, but Case still jumped every time J. needed something.  Sometimes J. wondered if the 'discipline' had hurt Case more deeply than it had hurt him. 

It was still bullshit.  That much hadn't changed.  But it was bullshit that was in his rearview mirror, fading in the distance and diminishing in importance.  As long as he rode fast and hard, it couldn't catch up with him.  And as long as Emmy's arms stayed around his waist as he travelled, the road to the future looked pretty damned good.

Speaking of which...
J. jammed the helmet onto his head, sighing as it squeezed his ears.  He didn't like being proven wrong so dramatically, but the crash hadn't killed him like it should have, and it was because of the stupid helmet.  So he wore one now, ignoring the jokes from the rest of the Sons and Storm Riders.  He didn't give a fuck anymore.  He had something sweet to live for.  Time to go get her.

The End