Sweet Ride (39 page)

My eyes roam her body,
clad only in a pair of lacy white panties and garter belts, when I
suddenly see something out of place. Directly above her hip is a
square piece of gauze.
What the hell?
“Bella, is there
something you’re keeping from me?” I ask in a low voice, my nose
gently rubbing her neck, my hand thumbing the bandage. She slowly
nods her head as a shiver runs through her body.

“It’s a wedding
gift,” she rasps out. “Open it,” she orders. I carefully pull
back the gauze and tape, revealing the skin underneath. My vision
goes blurry when I see the additional ink on her skin. The word
‘broken’ that symbolizes her feelings about herself after the
rape, now reads as ‘unbroken.’

Payton’s finally
completed her therapy sessions. Even though she’s now healed and
understands none of it was her fault, and they had no right to
violate her, it pains me to know what she’s had to endure and how
it affected her. And that she had to fight that rough battle for so
long, alone. I wish I had met her sooner and shown her she deserved
the best of everything.

One of the proudest
moments I had was when I was picked Payton up from her last session
with Dr. Lansin. Her face was aglow. It was the happiest I have ever
seen her. She jumped into my ride wearing the biggest grin on her
face. I remember it clear as day.

“I know what I’m
meant for,” she exclaimed, while shutting the door.

“What’s that,
baby?” I had replied.

“There’s a reason
for everything, right? Good or bad. You can turn the bad into good,
and that’s what I plan on doing.”

“And how’s that?”
I questioned.

“I just realized how
much better these counseling sessions have made me feel. I want to be
able to do that—to make other girls or women understand that they
too can rise above someone else’s actions, that it was not their
doing. They didn’t provoke this shit. I’ve survived. I want to
show those in similar situations that they can, too. I’m going to
look into going to school. Maybe become a counselor at a rape crisis
centre,” she jumbled out. One big ball of energy. It was great to
finally see the true Payton shining through.

Since her revelation,
she’s signed up for courses at the local college. Her first step is
raising her grades to get into the program she’s interested in.
With the enthusiasm she’s bringing to this venture, she’s going
to make the perfect counselor.

As for the animals that
broke her in the first place—they got what they had coming to them,
don’t fucking worry about that.

About six months ago, I
took advantage of some of my accrued vacation leave and spent a
little over three weeks in Payton’s hometown. Devon and I worked
like fucking dogs, but it finally paid off. We dug up some of the
football stars’ other victims, convincing them and Payton to press
sexual assault charges against the three assholes. Once charges were
laid and warrants produced, the men’s houses, cars, and workplaces
where searched thoroughly. Not during Payton’s time, thank fuck,
but years later, the sick fucks actually started documenting their
activities by taking photos and videos of their so-called ‘Bitches.’
That’s what the file was named on the laptop that was confiscated
during a search at Ozzy’s house.

When Boston PD went to
Jarod’s workplace to arrest him, he fled in his vehicle. A
high-speed car pursuit through downtown Boston ensued, but didn’t
last long when he drove through a red light, and a semi-truck
collided with the driver’s side of the vehicle. Jarod was
pronounced dead on the scene. Fucker got off easy.

The next day, police
found Andy in his attached garage. He took the coward’s way out and
hung himself from a metal rafter in the roof. Shit, if that’s the
way he wanted to go, all he had to do was fucking ask me, and I
would’ve choked the life out of the son of a bitch.

Then there was one
remaining. The twisted fuck Ozzy’s trial was short and sweet. With
the accounts recalled by the victims we convinced to press charges,
including my unbelievably brave Payton, and the files collected from
Ozzy’s hard drive, it took the jury only two hours to find him
guilty of all fifteen counts of felony aggravated sexual assault and
false imprisonment. He’s currently serving out his life behind
bars. That was still letting him off easy for what he did, so with my
connections, I made sure the rumor spread that he’s in for child
molestation. Other inmates don’t take too kindly to pedophiles. He
can’t say I didn’t warn him that I was coming for him.

Reeling in my dark
thoughts, I refocus on my gorgeous wife.

“When?” I ask her,
bending down and gently placing kisses on the tattoo.

“I got it yesterday,”
she answers, her eyes looking down at me.

“No, not when did you
get it. When did you start feeling unbroken?” I inquire.

“I can’t tell you a
specific time, but since you came back into my life, everything’s
started aligning. I’m not the same broken girl you first met. I’m
strong, I’m smart, and I can overcome anything put in front of me.
I’ve found myself again and regained my confidence. It’s not an
act anymore. You did what I thought was impossible … you fixed me,”
she explains.

“No, baby, I didn’t.
You did all that yourself,” I return, sealing my lips with hers. I
feel her hands move down her body, so I lean back and watch. She
unclips the hooks on her garters then carefully and beguilingly rolls
the stockings down her long, smooth, tanned legs. I crave to touch
her, to feel her right now, and she seems to know it.

Her back is against the
wall, and all that’s left on her body is the small scrap of fabric
covering her pussy. She can be such a fucking tease sometimes, but I
love being teased by this girl. Her small hands reach for the top hem
of her panties, but I push them away. No fucking way—this is my
job. I snag the sides of the lacy fabric on her hips and, with a
sudden yank, rip the thin barrier off of her tight body.

Standing before me, in
all her beautiful honesty is my now blushing bride, who at this
moment widens her leg stance; I don’t need any more fucking
invitation than that. I wrap my arms around her waist and pick her
up, pressing her against the wall with my body. Her legs lock around
my waist, exposing her so that my still clothed cock rubs against the
slick, wet heat between her thighs. God, I want in there so bad. As I
aggressively grind myself into her body, I feel her tense and hiss in
pain.

“You okay?” I ask
her.

“My tattoo still
hurts,” she explains through gritted teeth. Shit, I never thought
about that.

“Change of plans,”
I mutter against the base of her throat. Her hands move down my
chest, re-enacting the same maneuver that I performed on her wedding
dress. I watch her rip apart my dress shirt, the buttons flying
everywhere. She gives it a quick tug, removing it from my body,
slinging the fabric to the floor. I walk us over toward the king size
bed and kneel on the mattress, moving us so that I’m sitting in the
center with her straddling my aching groin. Her mouth latches on to
mine in a tender, but passionate kiss.

“Baby, you still have
your pants on,” she whimpers, breaking from our kiss and reaching
for my belt. Tugging it off, she somehow slides down my thighs and
manages to wrangle my pants down, too, leaving them at the end of the
mattress. With that task achieved, she hops onto my lap again and
takes my cock in her hand. She gently and slowly guides my way into
her pussy. I begin to thrust upright into her from my sitting
position, but she quickly puts a stop to that.

She removes herself
from my lap and lies down on her back next to me, her arms open and
legs still spread, wanting me to love her. Carefully, I lower my body
on top of hers, my arms resting on either side of her shoulders, and
hips fitting perfectly between her thighs. I try to keep from putting
any added weight to the side her tattoo is on. I don’t want to
aggravate it.

Our bodies move
together in a choreographed dance as I unhurriedly make love to my
wife. No rushing this. I want to savor every moment and burn it into
my brain. With each gentle slide of my cock, I feel her inner muscles
start to ripple, and before long, she explodes and quivers with sheer
pleasure. Just the sight of her coming sends me hurtling over the
edge with her.

I roll off of her and
lay on my back, trying to even out my breathing. My head lulls to the
side, and I take in the stunning woman next to me. God, I’ll never
get tired of seeing her in my bed. Absolutely fucking beautiful.

“I love you, Mrs. De
Luca,” I murmur against her ear. Christ, she’s my wife. Mine.
Fuck, I want to plant my babies in her and soon.

“I love you, too, Mr.
De Luca,” she returns, leaning over and brushing a few soft kisses
on my lips.

“Beautiful, seeing as
it took three tries to get you to say yes to my proposals, how many
times am I going to have to ask to convince you to have my babies?”
I ask seriously. A huge smile takes over her face.

“Funny you should
mention that,” she says, twisting and turning her body away from
me. She leans over to the side table and hands me a white plastic
stick. I look down and see two blue lines in the center panel of the
test, indicating a positive result. In happy disbelief, my eyes fall
back to Payton. “You’re going to be my baby daddy,” she says, a
brazen smile inching across her face. Just when I thought she
couldn’t get any more fucking beautiful.

“Best. Fucking. Day.
Ever,” I tell her, before possessing her mouth with my own.

“So you’re happy
about this?” she questions once our kiss ends.

“Hell, yeah. Don’t
ever doubt it, baby,” I reassure her, my lips brushing hers.

“It’s just that
with school coming up, how’s this all going to work out?” she
asks.

“We’ll deal with
that when the time comes. But I’m sure Ma will have no problems
looking after the newest De Luca grandbaby while you’re in school.
Now, stop worrying and get over here,” I softly command.

“I’m like six
inches away from you, Jack,” she says, a hint of laughter in her
voice.

“That’s too far.
Don’t want any space between us,” I tell her, pulling her on top
of me and claiming her mouth with a kiss. “Mine,” I whisper
against her lips.

“Yours,” she
whispers right back.

I can’t help but
think of our sad existences before our lives intertwined. Who knew
that when our damaged souls collided, our love would be the balm to
heal the wounds inflicted by our pasts?

Life’s finally sweet and will only
get sweeter.

The
End!

The
Ride Series will continue
with the story of Evan and Cade.