Dark Needs Page 2

  "MY fucking pussy," I growled. "MINE."

  Bee and I didn't do this the first time. I didn't have the chance to taste her back then, but I'd spent a great amount of time while we were apart thinking about it. Nothing in my imagination could even fathom what the taste of her orgasm on my tongue would like be in reality.

  Bee's pussy tasted like sex wrapped in sunshine, rolled up in thousand dollar bills, and covered in powdered sugar.

  Four years ago, when I took Bee's virginity, it was selfish of me. It was wrong. She was only seventeen and so vulnerable.

  I would do it all over again every day for the rest of my fucking life.

  Back then, I thought we would have all the time in the world. I thought we would have the chance to explore each other, experiment with what feels good, and generally fuck the shit out of each other until we were too tired to move, or until we fucking died.

  Because frankly, I would gladly go to hell with my dick deep inside Bee.

  Bee barely had a chance to find her way back into consciousness before I was between her legs, my hands on her knees, spreading her open in front of me, my cock ready to push into the most beautiful pink center I'd ever had the privilege of entering.

  I grabbed my shaft to guide it home when Bee said something that made me pause. "Will it hurt this time?" she asked, panting. Her little nipples stood at attention with the quick rise and fall of her chest.

  "What?" I asked. Too much blood was in my cock, and I was unable to focus on conversation.

  "Last time, it didn't really hurt, but it pinched. I was just wondering if it would hurt again."

  "Bee?" I asked, momentarily stunned, my hand still on my cock.

  "Yeah?"

  "When was the last time you did this?" The question made me want to vomit. I knew what Owen did to her, and he paid the ultimate fucking price. But I hadn't really thought about what she'd done while I was gone. Imagining anyone else touching her was enough to make my dick turn into an innie, but I couldn't blame her. It was my fault. I'd left her on her own. Of course she would've dated, leaned on someone else for comfort.

  I was going to fucking puke.

  "Four years ago, at the apartment at your shop."

  I didn't know exactly what to say, but when I opened my mouth the only thing that came out was "Why, baby?"

  "I'd already found you. I wasn't looking for anyone else. You touching me may not burn me anymore." She looked as if what she was saying pained her. "But just the thought of anyone else touching me is still enough to set my skin on fire." Bee's eyes started to water and my heart constricted in my chest.

  This girl.

  This girl was going to kill me with fucking emotions.

  "Only me?" My male pride swelled right along with my cock.

  "Only you. It's only ever been you," Bee said, cupping my face in her hands.

  I lost it. Opening my mouth to hers, our tongues danced and mingled. Her lips were soft and perfect. I kept imagining how they would look while tonguing my cock, but there would be time for that. Right then, I needed to make her mine again. With little to no control left, I managed to reign it in to reassure Bee that it would be okay. Pulling back from our kiss, I whispered, "I'll go slow. I'll be gentle."

  I assured her while completely unsure if I could actually follow through with that promise.

  Gentle wasn't my thing.

  My dick ached, and all I could think about was sinking into her tight heat.

  "No," Bee said.

  "No?" I asked.

  "No, don't be gentle. Just be mine."

  I didn't wait for any more of a confirmation after that, not wanting to give her time to change her mind. I lined my cock up with her entrance, rubbing the head through her wet folds a few times before looking into the glazed over eyes of the woman I loved and sinking my cock deep inside her with one long overdue thrust.

  Warm.

  Wet.

  Soft.

  Tight.

  Home.

  I almost came right then and there. From the sounds Bee was making, I knew she was right there with me. I sat up on the bed and grabbed the back of Bee's neck, dragging her up with me. As I thrust up into her pussy, I looked into her heavily lidded eyes, licked her throat, and grabbed fistfuls of her ass. Stroking her clit with my thumb, I brought her to orgasm for the second time, grabbing her chin to stop her head from falling backward. I needed to look into the eyes of the woman I loved when she came for me, her wetness dripping down to my balls as her pussy clenched around my shaft.

  Fucking beautiful.

  This woman, with scars inside and out, had chosen me to be with. Fucked up, undeserving me.

  The sick thing was that she knew exactly who I was.

  She still wanted me.

  She LOVED me.

  What the fuck was wrong with her?

  I couldn't wait to come any longer. I forcefully pressed Bee back down into the mattress, pummeling her pussy with my cock. Her pink lips parted, her head thrown back in ecstasy. I was totally mesmerized by the look on her face when my orgasm hit me with wrecking ball type force that could take down a damn building. My balls tightened to the point of pain, my cock spurting streams of hot cum into the pussy it was made to come into.

  Holy. Fuck.

  I fell back onto the pillows and maneuvered Bee so that she was lying on top of my chest. When I could focus again, I slowly ran my hand through her beautiful red hair. It was the first thing I'd noticed about her. I traced the intricate tattoo on her shoulder with my fingers, slowly making my way around the scars that decorated her back and right arm.

  Those scars kept her from connecting with people for so long, but when it came to me, she'd knocked down every barrier she'd ever built so she could let me in.

  Into her life.

  Into her heart.

  Into her body.

  My fucking girl. The pride in my heart was almost too much. I squeezed Bee and kissed the top of her head.

  "I fucking love you, Bee."

  "I fucking love you, too, Jake.”

  TWO

  "Is now a bad time to tell you we should've used a condom?"

  "Why? You got the clap?" I teased. Bee's little giggle lit up my dark soul.

  "No, but I'm not on anything," She said. Oddly enough, this time around the thought never occurred to me to use protection. This was my woman. I had no plans of ever wrapping it up again. We needed to be as close as possible, skin to skin, and whatever happens, happens. Georgia was by far the greatest gift in the world. An amazing little girl that a bastard like me didn't deserve. I wouldn't mind another just like her, especially since this time I would be able to see Bee with a big baby belly, her tits soft and swollen.

  I was getting hard again.

  "I figure I would get you barefoot and pregnant as soon as possible anyway. You wouldn't understand. It's a man thing," I joked.

  "Oh yeah? So that's your new goal? To knock me up, again?" she asked.

  "No, if that happens, it happens. That would be great, but my new goal is actually something else." My stomach had fucking butterflies in it as I prepared to say what I'd wanted to say for so fucking long.

  I'm such a motherfucking pussy.

  "Oh yeah?" Bee yawned, stretching her arm out over my chest. "What's that?"

  I never expected to feel the way I felt about Bee. I never expected to love anyone so completely. She made me feel like at least a part of me was capable of some sort of normal, and since I was able to experience such great love, maybe I wasn't such a monster after all.

  Maybe.

  Probably not.

  "Marry me," I whispered.

  Bee froze. I didn't know if she had faded into a sudden deep sleep or was holding her breath. She had about one more second to answer before I shook her awake and demanded a response. It seemed like an eternity before she lifted her head from my chest. The most amazing pair of blue eyes, the eyes I fell in love with four years ago, gazed up at me like I'd hung the fucking moon.


  "Okay," she said simply. A tear rolled down her cheek. Her perfect pink lips formed a huge smile meant only for me.

  I loved the shit out of this girl.

  I reached down and lifted her up on top of me until we were eye to eye. "Okay," I said, pushing her hair behind her ear, then covering her mouth with my own in a deep all encompassing kiss.

  The need to be inside her again took hold, my cock harder than the first time around. Rolling over on top of her, she eagerly spread her legs for me. I entered her easily and completely, sheathing myself to the hilt. She took all of me, but gave me even more.

  She always had.

  I planned on making up for lost time all night.

  And then forever.

  THREE

  One year later...

  Reggie and I were at the shop working on our new pet project, restoring an old Shelby Mustang that some kid had blasphemously turned into a fucking donk. A hydraulic system was hooked to the suspension so the car would hop up and down on the tires, the body was painted a matte black from a fucking spray can, and when Reggie pulled it into the lot of my shop and put it in park, the twenty inch gold rims continued to spin. The six inch lift made it almost as tall as my truck.

  I imagine that when I died someday, the hell that was waiting for me looked very much like the purple velvet ridiculousness that covered the entire interior.

  My stomach rolled when I thought back to the condition it'd been in when I first saw it. Reggie felt the same way because when the kid who was driving it pulled into the parking lot of Bert’s Bar one night, Reggie had flagged him down and offered him way more than what it was worth. Thank fucking god the stupid kid accepted his offer, handing over his keys as soon as I rode in with the cash.

  I wasn't even mad that Reggie made the deal without asking me first. I'd gladly have paid twice that amount for the opportunity to turn it back into what both God and Ford had intended.

  Maybe not necessarily in that order.

  I'm glad Abby and Georgia weren't there when the Sheriff showed up that day, fish-tailing his old patrol car into my gravel parking lot like he was a fucking stunt driver for Dukes of Hazard, dust and dirt billowing from under his tires as he skidded to a stop, lights and sirens blaring in the middle of the fucking day. The Sheriff’s only deputy followed closely behind him with the only other patrol car in Coral Pines.

  Sheriff Fletcher and Deputy Harbord got out of their cars and drew their guns, shielding themselves behind the open doors of their vehicles.

  "Get your fucking hands up!" the sheriff ordered through a small portable bull-horn that muffled his voice as if he was repeating our order back to us from the old drive through of the Dairy Queen.

  Reggie's hands shot up in the air. "Drop the wrench!" Deputy Harbord shouted.

  Reggie looked up to his raised hands and dropped the wrench as soon as he realized he was still holding it. It bounced off the concrete and clattered down into the oil bay.

  I lifted my head out from under the hood of the Shelby and wiped my hands with the rag I kept over my shoulder. I took in the scene in front of me as I lit a cigarette and wondered which of my arrestable offenses could've warranted such theatrics.

  "To what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked sarcastically. Leaning up against one of the tall tool boxes that lined the outside of the work bay, crossing my legs at the ankles. I took a long drag of my cigarette and blew the smoke out of my nose.

  Sheriff Fletcher was as crooked as they'd come. After I found out he'd helped Owen when he'd raped and almost killed Abby, the motherfucker was lucky he was still fucking breathing.

  I couldn't kill everyone.

  At least, that's what Abby kept telling me.

  "Jacob Francis Dunn?" the deputy asked, slowly approaching the work bay. Sheriff Fletcher stood his ground by his car, gun at the ready.

  Fucking coward.

  "Griff, put that thing down," I said, gesturing with my cigarette to the gun he had aimed at my chest. "You know me. Don't pretend like you fucking don't." I put out my cigarette on the heel of my boot. "You've know me since the ninth grade when I fingered your girlfriend in the back of the room during English Lit while you gave that presentation on Jane Austen." Griff's face dropped. "Don't worry though. I only made her come once."

  "Not exactly the thing to say to someone holding a gun to your head," Griffin spat, his face turned red with irritation. "And it was Shakespeare, asshole."

  "So you do remember. It was so long ago, man. You remember the name of that whore you used to date?" I goaded. I already knew the answer.

  "Kristy, her name was and is Kristy. And if you say one more word about my fucking wife I'm going to squeeze this here trigger," he warned. "Now put your fucking hands up." He redirected his gun from my chest to my head.

  "Everything all right over there?" Sheriff Fletcher called out, still hiding behind his car door.

  "I got this, Boss." Griff called back without taking his eyes off me.

  "What exactly do you fuckers want?" I asked, irritated that they'd interrupted me while I was resuscitating the Shelby. I'd just started Mustang CPR on her when they'd pulled in.

  "Jacob Dunn, we have a warrant for your arrest. We came to take you on in," Griff said, proudly.

  "You gonna arrest me?" I asked. "What the fuck for?"

  Griff reached behind his back with the hand that didn't have a finger on the trigger and produced a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket. Just about then I noticed that the good sheriff was no longer hiding by his patrol car. Then, I was slammed into from the side, and my chest smashed up against the hood of the Shelby. Cold metal cuffs were slapped tightly around my wrists.

  "What am I being charged with?" I asked again as they both yanked me up to my feet, shoving me toward the cars. Sheriff Fletcher planted his hand firmly on the chain connecting the cuffs. "You are under arrest for the murder of Owen Fletcher," He finally answered, before leaning into my ear and whispering so only I could hear. "You messed with the wrong fucking family, boy." His breath hot on my neck, I fought to contain my gag reflex. There was no way I was going to let that fucker know he'd gotten to me in any way, and that included cringing because of his hot garbage breath.

  At that moment, Bee pulled her truck into the lot. When she saw what was happening, she jumped down from the drivers seat, leaving the door wide open, the engine still running.

  "Jake!" she yelled, her little legs blurring together as she sprinted across the lot.

  I planted my feet in the dirt and locked up my knees in an attempt to hold my ground so I could talk to my wife, but the sheriff pushed on the cuffs and I had to again move forward so I wouldn't wind up face first in the dirt.

  "Baby, call a lawyer," I told Bee when she came running up, the idiot lawmen pushing me right passed her.