Seasons of Change (20 page)

“Aimee, you don’t have to,” he says, almost apologetically, as if I’m doing it out of a sense of “tit for tat.”

“I know.” I smile up at him as I concentrate on unfastening the buttons of his jeans and pulling them down over his knees in one swift movement. “But I want to do it.”

I take hold of his black boxers, seeing his erection already straining against the material. As I free him from the constraints of his underwear I’m struck again by how big he is and how I can’t wait to feel him buried inside of me. I shuffle down between his legs and take hold of his shaft in my right hand, feeling the weight of him and the hardness of his cock.

I look up at his face as I lower my head to lick the tip of his penis, and I enjoy the expression that falls over his face. It looks a lot like bliss. Then I go to work. I start licking his shaft from base to tip, enjoying the salty taste and the hardness of him in my mouth. Jake starts to raise his hips and I take that as a request for me to bring him deeper in, so I take as much of him in my mouth as I can and I’m rewarded by the growling sound that seems to come from his very core.

I twist my hand around his base, massaging it as I take him into my mouth as deep as he will go before he hits the back of my throat and I let my tongue roam all around him. I taste the saltiness of his tip and run my tongue over the hard ridges of his shaft and I know that Jake is about to lose control. I can feel it in the way he’s grunting underneath me, and the fact that his cock has turned rock hard in my mouth and under my hand.

“Aimee… I don’t want to come yet,” Jake says between pants. “I want to be inside of you,” he explains as he leads me up his body until he is able to give me a passionate kiss.

“Okay,” I agree, biting his bottom lip gently and feeling an answering heat between my legs as I grow wetter at the thought of Jake being inside of me. “But one day, you will let me do it,” I tell him, caught off guard by my own need to taste him and know him in the same way that he does me.

“Deal.” Jake holds his hands up in surrender, as if I’ve bullied him into it. “Now, you seem to be wearing far too much.”

He shakes his head in mock-disappointment as he reaches behind me and unclips my bra with practiced ease and immediately starts rolling the nipples in between his fingers. They stand to attention between the roughness of his thumb and forefinger and, acting purely on instinct, I take his hand in mine and lift it to my lips, sucking on the two fingers that he is using to touch me and then return them to my nipple so his fingers slip and slide of the slickness he’s coating my nipples in.

“You’re unbelievable,” Jake says as I throw my head back, enjoying the way that his touch makes my body sing as if he were a musician and I were his instrument. He dips his fingers between us, testing to see how wet I am between my thighs. “You’re so ready for me,” he whispers, as if he can’t believe how quickly I respond to him.

“I’m always ready for you,” I tell him, sitting up. “That’s what you do to me Jake.”

I’m not the least bit nervous or embarrassed of my body as I sit astride him. I reach between us and take hold of his hard cock in my hand, stroking him gently but insistently as I lift myself up and guide the tip to the mouth of my entrance. Jake and I don’t break eye contact the entire time, but I see a flicker of doubt cross his mind and I pull up short. “What?” I ask, suddenly worried that I’m doing something wrong.

“I don’t have… I’m not wearing a rubber.” Jake looks at me apologetically. “I hadn’t expected this to happen,” he reasons, as if I’m about to blame him.

“It doesn’t matter,” I tell him, because I know that I can trust him. “I’ve been on the pill for years,” I explain, and although I know there’s still a risk of other nasties when you don’t use a condom, Jake’s next words put my mind to rest.

“I’ve never had sex without a condom,” he confesses, and it’s both his way of telling me that we’re safe and also that he’s not sure how long he’s going to last.

“So we’re both giving each other a first time,” I say softly, leaning forward and kissing him deeply. “I like that.” I nod, enjoying the synergy. I reach between us again and guide his shaft to my slit, and then I slide down onto him slowly and steadily, until he’s buried inside of me and I’m impaled on him.

We’re both breathing hard and fast and I can see from the look on Jake’s face that this is nothing like he’s ever experienced. “I can feel every part of you,” he says in wonder, and I clench my pelvic muscles around him, turning his words into a strangled mess. “Holy shit, Aimee, if you keep doing that I’m not going to last at all.” He laughs as he tries to get himself back under control.

“Now you know how I feel,” I tell him, smiling down at him and enjoying being in control, being the one who sets the pace and who has the ability to drive him as wild as he drives me.

Slowly, I lift myself up his shaft again until I reach the tip, and then I plough down onto him again this time, burying him even deeper. We both moan together and as I start cycling through the movements, up and down his shaft. I can feel my own climax begin to build as I witness his own frenzy increasing.

“Baby I’m close, I’m so close.” Jake’s words come out in short gasps. “Aimee, you’re so beautiful,” he says, reaching up and tweaking my nipple to the edge of pleasure and pain, the perfect point that starts to send me tripping towards my own climax. “I love you and I love being inside of you.”

His hips are moving in time with mine and we grind closer together, pushing into each other as hard as we can. It’s almost like, if we push hard enough, we’ll just become one entity and it will be impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.

“Jake, holy fuck, Jake,” I say as I can feel the beginnings of my orgasm ripple through my body, starting with small swells and building to huge waves.

We push into each other again and again, and as I ride him harder and harder, we’re both covered in sweat and tasting, touching, licking each other as we drive toward our orgasms. I cry out only a second before he does. We call each other’s names as we reach the peak of our pleasure, shuddering and shaking to our own individual, hot ends.

***

Afterwards, we lie still, breathing together, recovering from the intensity of what’s just passed between us. Our hearts beat in time and I relish the feeling of him inside of me. I don’t want him to ever leave me. I feel whole, full up, and completely satisfied when he’s inside of me. “Can we stay like this all night?” I ask him, barely daring to breathe in case the spell between us is broken and the reality of the outside world comes crashing back in.

“There’s no place else I’d rather be,” Jake admits, pushing my hair back from my face and looking at me with eyes so full of love I have to cover his face in kisses. “What was that for?” he laughs when I finally stop.

“Just for being you,” I explain dreamily. “Just for being the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“We leave tomorrow morning? Or I guess, more accurately, today?” I nod, though I think he already knew the answer. Already I feel like I’m drifting into sleep. “We don’t tell anyone and we just go,” he adds, like he’s come to terms with what it is that we’re about to do.

“It’ll be alright,” I tell him, resting my cheek against his chest and feeling the rise and fall of his breathing as it sends me off to sleep.

“Aimee?” he asks after a moment, just as I’m about to close my eyes.

“Mmmhmmm,” I respond.

“I love you.” He says the words as if he relishes them and he holds me tighter against him, more protectively, as if I were something precious to him.

“I love you too,” I whisper back, enjoying the sound of the words as I say them. “And Jake?”

“Mmmhmmm?” he replies.

“Happy birthday,” I say before we drift into the comfort of oblivion.

The first thing I notice when I wake up is the smell. I take a few breaths, and although there’s no light in the sky I know instinctively that something is wrong. All of the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I tiptoe towards the door, and that’s when I recognize what it is that I’m smelling. A plume of black smoke makes its way up the stairs. Everything seems to happen in the space of only a few seconds.

I run back into the bedroom, shaking Jake. “Fire,” I say breathlessly when he opens his eyes, and he’s out of bed without me having to say it again.

We both throw our clothes on and run downstairs. I can’t figure out where the smoke is coming from. “My mom,” I shout over to Jake, who nods and heads straight to the couch where she’s slept for the last six years. But she’s not there. She’s nowhere to be found.

“Mom!” I shout, knowing it’s useless, she won’t answer me. “
Mom!
” I scream and cough as the smoke starts to choke me. That’s when it occurs to me—I know where she is. I turn and start to head back up the stairs but Jake catches hold of my hand, not letting me go up.

“Aimee, what the hell are you doing?” he asks, his face grey from the soot but his eyes as clear as day. “We have to get out of here,” he pleads.

“We will. You get out and call 911, I need to go and get my mom,” I tell him. But Jake tries to pull me back. “I’m not leaving her here!” I exclaim, and the determination on my face tells him all that he needs to see.

“Goddammit,” Jake says under his breath. “You go get your mom. I’ll try and find where the hell the fire is coming from. Aimee, don’t do anything stupid,” he tells me, looking like he’s trying commit my face to memory.

“Me? Never!” I reply, giving him the bravest smile I can manage before I race up the stairs to the bedroom my parents shared.

The smoke is getting thicker and thicker, but I can still see her lying on the bed that she used to sleep in with my father, not moving. Please God, don’t let it be too late, I pray.

“Mom, we have to go,” I shout at her as I grab her by the shoulders and start to pull her up.

“Leave me alone.” The voice comes out dry and cracked from lack of use, but there it is. It’s the voice of my mother.

I don’t have the luxury of being in shock or asking what brought her back. All I know is that I need to get her out of this house before anyone gets hurt. “Mom, you have to come with me. There’s a fire,” I explain to her as calmly as I can while I try not to breathe in any more of the smoky air.

“Leave me here, Aimee, leave me here, I want to see your father again,” she says dreamily, and I realize what she’s saying. She wants me to let her die in this house so that she can be reunited with my dad.

“Dad isn’t here,” I tell her, “And he sure as shit wouldn’t approve of what you’re doing, curling up, waiting to die, and leaving your daughter all alone in the world!” I yell at her. “I’ve only just got you back, and I’m not going to let go of you again that easily.”

I take hold of her shoulders again. But she’s too determined to stay where she is. I know that we’ve been up here too long.

The smoke is getting thicker and my head is starting to feel light from the lack of oxygen in the air. “Momma, don’t do this,” I ask her, feeling suddenly weak and wondering how long it’ll take the fire department to get here.

“Aimee!” Jake’s voice booms out from downstairs.

“Up here!” I shout, coughing and spluttering.

Jake runs into the room and seems to take in the situation in an instant. He’s about to lift me up but I shake my head, “Take her.” I tell him. “I can’t.”

Jake nods once and, ever so gently, lifts my mother off of the bed as if she doesn’t weigh any more than a bag of feathers. She tries to resist but her muscles are weak after years of neglect, and Jake is far too strong for her. I scramble after them down the stairs, coughing harder and harder as the smoke seems to be getting denser. Jake and my mom are the first out of the door and I follow quickly behind them until I remember the bag of money.

It’s everything I have in this world, and I’ll be damned if I lose it like this. I have time to run back in and grab it before I see the floor of the sitting room collapse as if it’s been swallowed up by a huge beast. I stand in shock, and it’s only because Jake pulls me out of the door that I’m able to move. I hear the creaking and hissing of wood, and the entire downstairs floor seems to give way.

“Are you alright?” Jake asks, holding his hands on either side of my face.

I nod quickly, coughing lightly but grateful for the fresh air that I’m breathing in. My mother is collapsed in a pile on the ground, crying softly and rocking herself. She looks hysterical. I remember this from the first days after my dad died—this is what she had looked like then, too. I rush over to her, making sure that she’s alright and unhurt.

“It’s going to be okay, Momma,” I say to her soothingly, crouching down and holding onto her shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. I just need you to stay here for me,” I tell her, hoping that she’s not going to try anything stupid like running back into the building that we’ve just had to drag her out of.

But I can’t focus my attention on her for long, as I realize that we are not the only people standing outside of my house. I look around to see that we’re surrounded by members of the Bleeding Angels MC, and Scar has the best seat. He looks comfortable, front and center, watching as my house burns down.

“Well hello, Aimee,” he says, acting like we’ve just met each other in the park on a sunny day rather than in the middle of the night outside of a burning building. “It’s been a long time,” he adds, looking up at the sky as if he’s trying to figure out exactly how many years it’s been.

“Not long enough,” I reply to him, sounding stronger than I’m actually feeling.

“Sorry about the house. Always like this building,” he says, shaking his head at the waste. “But it had to be done.” He shrugs as if it was out of his hands.

“You burn my house down and then you say it
had to be done?
” I ask, taking a step towards Scar. But Jake is faster than me. He throws his arm out, holding me back as we both hear the sound of guns being cocked. The bikers are ready to protect their lord and master.

“You’ve got yourself a feisty one there, Summers,” Scar says with what sounds like pride. But Jake doesn’t respond—he doesn’t make any move to even show that he’s heard. “You’re a lot like your mother. Full of spunk.” Scar continues, turning his attention back to me. “Or at least that’s how she was before,” he corrects himself as he glances at her with a vaguely nostalgic look on his face, watching her rock back and forth on the sidewalk, talking quietly to herself.

“Before you killed my father, you mean? In cold blood and in front of half the town?” I spit the words out, wishing that I had the gun that was probably still lying on my dresser where Jake had left it.

“Enough, Miss Winters,” he replies. “I understand what my son sees in you.” He nods in appreciation, and I catch the leer of Ryan’s face sitting on one of the bikes behind his father and I feel my stomach roll. “But don’t think that I won’t cut you down if you sass me like that again, you hear me?” Scar asks, his voice so sharp it could cut you in two.

“You’re here for me, so let’s just get this over with,” Jake sighs, like he’s had enough of it all.

“Jake! No!” I yell, catching him on the arm and forcing him to look at me. “Not like this,” I plead with him, but I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Why are you coming for him early?” I demand of Scar. “You usually take new patches the day after their birthday, so what gives?” I keep my hold on Jake, his hand in mine, deriving some strength from the warmth between us.

“Well, your friend Suzie—I have to say she does have her uses.” Scar nods towards the end of one row of bikes and I recognize Elvis, the bastard that claimed Suzie and then pumped her full of drugs. “This was all her idea, actually."

I feel the blood drain out of me all at once at his words and it’s only when I feel Jake’s arm snake around my shoulder that I realize how weak my legs have gone.

My reaction is clearly exactly what Scar was looking for, because he gives a small smile of satisfaction and I have to resist the urge to slap the expression off of his face. “She wanted to help us out, knew that the best way to get to Jake was to get to you. It looks like she was right. Misinformation is what they call it, I think—you thought we were coming for Jake on the night of his birthday, but in fact, we were always coming for him now. Surprise is really one of the most powerful tools in any army’s arsenal.”

He shakes his head, impressed with his little plan and how things have all worked out exactly as he had hoped.

“I’m happy for you,” I say to Scar sarcastically. “I’m glad you’re so proud of yourself—getting a young, vulnerable girl addicted to junk and then using her to do your dirty work. What a man you are, Travis.” My voice is bitter and I use his real name intentionally, knowing how much it’ll bother him.

“Aimee.” Jake’s voice is a warning and I know he’s worried I’ve gone too far.

“Don’t test me, little girl.” Scar’s voice is low and full of menace. “I would have thought you’d be smarter about the way you use that mouth after what happened to your daddy,” he says, leaning over the handlebars of his bike.

“Don’t you dare talk about my father,” I spit. “You don’t deserve to say his name; you’re nothing but a murderer.” I’m yelling now, ignoring the look of concern that Jake is giving to the crowd of bikers and the way he puts himself between me and them.

“Are you still sore about that?” Scar asks, and there’s a chuckle amongst the men behind him. “The best man won that night; you need to move on with your life now, sugar. It’s about time,” he suggests in a low voice, as if he’s offering me some kind of counselling.

“Right, because shooting an unarmed man who was just trying to talk to you really makes you the better man. Just like setting fire to an ill woman’s house in the middle of the night—that’s really impressive.” I laugh at him, and the “brain to mouth” filter fails yet again.

“Don’t push me, Winters.” His voice comes out in a growl.

“What are you going to do? Burn my house down? Try to kill my family? Oh, guess you’ve already done that,” I say, slapping my forehead as if I’d forgotten. I’m vaguely aware that I’m getting a little hysterical, but it’s funny what happens to you when your back’s against the wall and someone’s set fire to your home.

“No, we’re going to take Jake,” Scar replies without missing a beat, and my mouth works wordlessly trying to come up with a response. “It’s time, Jake. Enough messing around. You belong with us now. You know the rules,” he says, looking at my friend with an intensity that makes me want to take a step back.

Jake seems to think for a moment, looks at me, and kisses me softly on the lips, smiling sadly. Then he takes a step forward and my world starts to fall apart.

“Jake, no,” I say, reaching out my hand to hold onto his arm, but he shakes me off gently.

“Aimee, I have to do this,” he tells me quietly. “I don’t have a choice anymore. Look at what they’ve done to your house. Think about what could have happened to you, to your mom. There’s no way I can let anything like this happen again.”

He shakes his head. “And it will, if I keep resisting. They’re never going to stop, they’re never going to let me go,” he says, his eyes full of love and sadness. “They’re not going to let me go, so you have to,” he tells me finally, freeing himself from my grip that’s gone slack.

I stand stock still, reeling from the words that he’s just said to me, but before he can take another step towards the men that want to ruin him, I speak out, my voice strangely steady despite what’s going on around me. “Let’s make a deal,” I say, staring straight ahead at Scar and ignoring the look that Jake throws back to me over his shoulder.

“A deal?” Scar laughs, looking at me like I’m just the pathetic little girl that he seems to think I am. “What kind of deal do you think we could make? What could you
possibly
have that would interest me? Your Care Bear collection?”