I moan into his mouth and shut my eyes, relished in the sensual nature of our bodies becoming one as I push myself onto him.
“Fuck yes, Vixen. I swear you were so built for this dick,” Pax utters into my mouth.
“Shh, no talking, just feel.”
He glides his hands onto my breasts as I ride him as unhurried and deep as I can, denying my desire to move faster.
I can feel his body beginning to tense, his muscles flexing all around me and I think he too is fighting his urge to get rowdy.
I’m so wet, so needy and I can tell he is on the verge of cumming as he entertains his tongue with my nipple and slips his hands down onto my hips to help me keep the pace.
“Fuck, Pax,” I moan.
“I know,” he growls, his hips starting to buck.
I grip his arms and tilt my head back, and I can no longer hold the pace, I need to fuck this man damnit!
“It’s okay, Vixen, let go and just hate-fuck me already,” he hisses.
I take that as a checkered flag and start to ride him hard and fast, the way I need to. The way I know we both need it.
My climax is close as I dig my nails into his arms, taking in the way he slams me down so hard against him I can feel his dick sentencing my insides.
“Holy fuck, Whiskey.”
“I know, Vix, I know,” he says, breathless.
I begin to come apart, arching my back as he growls, his dick spilling into me as my body convulses in his hands and our intense moans fill the room.
“Shit!” I pant, “So much for making love. I really tried for a bit there, but it was just weird.”
“It’s fine,” Pax laughs, “it was weird for me too. We just have to keep practicing.”
“Nah… screw practicing, I like the way we are, and I already love whatever the fuck it is you are!”
I kiss his sweaty forehead and lay my head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat as I draw lazy circles over his tatted abs.
My eyes are closing to the warmth and comfort of his body, the way he’s weaving his fingers through my hair. I could lay right here forever with him, just like this, until the end of time.
“Vixen?” he murmurs.
“Yeah?”
“You do realize your mother is innocent and that you left a running lawn tractor in her living room, right?”
“Yes,” I laugh, not feeling guilty. “But she’s only innocent this time, so, she can just accept that and all the other shit I terrorized as payback for all of the other times she messed with me.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that ought to teach her,” he laughs, kissing the top of my head. “But something tells me she’s already learned her lesson.”
“I doubt it,” I say, yawning. “The last time Satan learned a lesson was um… never.”
“I’m being serious, Vix, she’s different.”
“Don’t be dumb. You spent a little over an hour with her trying to help her sorry ass, I hardly think that qualifies you as an expert in the field of Lucifer and her practices.”
“I’ve been paying attention for three years,” he points out. “All I’m saying is that you should give her a chance.”
I roll the other way and sigh, unable to think anymore.
“Fine Pax, I’ll go back with you to the underworld in the morning, but can we please just go to sleep now?”
He shifts his body around mine and the weight of his arms around me is contenting.
“I love you, Vix,” he whispers.
I pull his arm around me tighter.
“Goodnight, Whiskey. I love-hate you more.”
Eleven
My Mother’s Daughter
We are heading back to the Hill to face Helen King, the ruler of hell herself, and the very woman who birthed and taught me the golden rule: Kings don’t cry. This is going to be a literal shit show.
My mother has always been madder than the devil, and despite what Pax chooses to believe, I know this is a bad idea. I can feel it in my soul.
I stare at the back of the Ninja as the sun rises while I tail Pax down the highway with the Beamer. The one I so angrily etched my cursed name onto the side of. Even after all of the darkness that man has seen between his own fucked up life and my dysfunctional joke for a family, he’s still optimistic. I love it about him but at the same time, it kills me that he thinks people change. People don’t change, we are what we are. I proved it last night with the whole hate-fuck scenario.
Regardless, I would follow Whiskey anywhere, to the ends of the earth and back. He’s my ride or die, my tainted love, and in the end, he is the only family I will ever need.
He taps on the car window, gesturing for me to roll it down as I sit idling in front of the house staring at the blown-out hole in the garage door.
“It’s going to be fine, just come inside. I’ll be right beside you.”
His reassuring smile fills me with a sense of strength, and I shut off the engine and exit the car.
“How did I ever get so lucky?”
“You didn’t get lucky,” he laughs, “you got drunk… and then you almost pissed on my tent in Dellwood Park.”
I cross my arms and lean against the car thinking about it.
“I’d still say that was lucky, who else can say they met their man-beast drifter boyfriend in the middle of a park in a gated community for rich schmucks?”
“Well when you put it that way,” he says with a
