Through a Glass, Darkly (Assassins of Youth MC #1) (30 page)

BOOK: Through a Glass, Darkly (Assassins of Youth MC #1)
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But my waking self was finally free of the influence of Allred’s perverted, corrupt soul. The freedom steeped me in joy. On a primal level, I was probably reacting to Gideon as being my savior. And I wanted to repay him for his kindness.

So I cut him off when he tried to tell me about my new building. I knew that whatever it was, it would be something beneficial for me and the business. I kissed my man deeply, feasting on the warm sensuality of his mouth. Gideon was a thoroughly passionate man—not that I had experience with many of them—and he brought out all the inner sensuality in me I’d never known existed.

Sure, Field was a competent lover. I’d loved him more on an intellectual, sensible level than a sexual one. With Gideon, sex was one of the most important angles of our relationship. I showed him that now as I ignored his business talk and weaved my fingers through his silken auburn hair, massaging his scalp in tiny circles. I bit his upper lip, drawing it toward me, while slipping my tongue against his upper palate. My other hand lifted the flimsy shirt from his abs so I could feel naked flesh, rotating my thumb against his six-pack, feeling the gunshot scar over his liver. Gideon was back in fighting shape after his heroic efforts to change the face of marriage in Cornucopia.

I knew they’d killed Field. The OSHA report had concluded it was an act of God that had taken the parking brake off that day. The trajectory the behemoth piece of equipment had followed was impossible to duplicate. Field standing in just the right spot with his back to that incline was strictly coincidence, putting rocks into gabion baskets to build a wall. I knew better. The foreman, seeing Field squished like an insect specimen, had run the opposite direction, taking off in his pickup truck, not stopping until he reached a bar. He’d already known Field was dead.

Allred had wanted me for another wife. What was stopping Verlan Turley or whoever took over Cornucopia’s reins from doing in Gideon? We would have to be on the watch forever.

He slanted his mouth against mine, murmuring, “Let’s do it up against this Doobie Brothers poster.” I could feel his smile against mine. Yosemite Sam’s feeble attempts at interior decoration were admirable.

“No. Wait,” I said.

I dropped to my knees like an elevator.

Gumming Gideon’s prick from outside his jeans, my fingers unwove the puzzle that was his big pewter belt buckle. He fell against the wall with a thud, slightly tearing the concert poster.

“Oh. God. Good God.”

I’d never blown him before. It wasn’t in my repertoire of sexual tricks. Admittedly, that box of tricks was fairly tiny. I’d only executed the movements of a blowjob under duress before. Doing it of my own free will was going to be a fresh, new experience, so I’d read up on it. I wanted it to be an unrelated act to what had gone before—like something learned from the internet.

Gideon’s blazingly hot penis nearly slapped against my cheek. It almost seemed to burn my palm as I rubbed my face drily all over it. I lifted his ball sac and did the same, spicing up my caresses with tiny licks from a hard, fast tongue. His balls were hot and tangy—the scent of sex.

When he grabbed my shoulders and arched his hips toward me, I lost it. His commanding, sinewy grace was too much for me, and his long, heavy cock pulsated in my palm with a life of its own. A flood of oxytocin rushed from my brain down my spine, causing me to jump to acts I would’ve considered unthinkable months before.

I swallowed his penis almost whole.

It was like a magic act, gulping that pole. One second he was screwing it into my palm with erotic rotations of his lean hips. The next second, it filled my throat so deeply I imagined I could feel it up against my tonsils.

I think I did it right, because his low groan reverberated against those tonsils. It almost tickled, so I gulped, and gulped again. The saliva started to flow as I sank his pole again and again down my throat. I got into a rhythm of plunging and gulping, plunging and gulping.

At first it seemed impossible, what I was doing. How could any woman swallow such a plump, long dick? But I found that if I relaxed my throat muscles and fell into a steady rhythm in a sort of Zen way, I could take more of his meat.

Then I started lapping away. At first I just covered the underside, massaging the bulging vein with my tongue-tip. Then, on a backstroke when the shiny, excited glans would slip dangerously against my palate, I tried tickling the slit with a few licks. That made him twitch and jump. I wasn’t sure if this was good until he uttered,


God
, Mahalia. Sweetness, sweetness, sweetness. Stop. I want to come inside you.”

This made my heart soar in more ways than one. I’d told him I wanted to get off the birth control pill because I was wary of the hormones. He’d said fine, he understood, and I’d assumed it meant we’d add rubbers to our repertoire. But we’d “raw dogged” it three times since then, with no letup in sight. To my mind, it indicated a deep and enduring love. That he was willing to risk having a baby when things were so chaotic and uncertain let me know his love was sincere.

And that gladdened my heart more than anything.

Again, he slid his fat dick inside me with no preparation. He lifted me by the underarms and didn’t even sit me on top of Yosemite Sam’s rickety desk. He just brushed aside my short skirt, fingering away the strip of nylon that served me as panties these days. The few short strokes of his fingers against my clitoris were all I needed for warmup. I was already slick and primed to go.

Fucking Gideon Fortunati was like nothing else I’d ever experienced. It had never occurred to me it could be so lusty, so laden with emotion. Forgetting what came before Gideon, like my amnesia of what I’d experienced before my painful birth, was a sweet mercy. If my concentration wasn’t fixed on my current reality, I could never tolerate this earthly awareness. Like the glorious paradise I’d been cradled in before birth, a tender grace of forgetfulness separated this man from the acts of the man who had gone before.

The amnesiac veil isn’t there to harm us, to make us tear out our hair in frustration. It’s there so we can live in the here and now without bemoaning our existence every waking step of the way.

I reached an arm down so I could cup his balls. They were full and round, almost hard as he plunged into me. I squished them in my palm with precome gliding my hand. It seemed just the thing he needed to tip him over the edge and into the abyss from which there’s no return.

His groan was from a deep abyss too. “Good God in an evil…”

He never finished his beloved catch phrase. He was too busy spending inside me, swiveling his hips to jam his cockhead far up against my cervix.

I thought I could feel it gushing there. Of course, they say there’s no sensation, very few nerve endings, in the cervix. But I know I felt his tight, shiny corona burst inside me, over and over in short, forceful gushes. I met his thrusts with my own, clutching his pole with my inner muscles.

I flung my arms around his neck for dear life.
Gideon, oh Gideon, master of my reality.
It was almost frightening loving him so much. The extent to which one loves is also the extent to which one is plunged into agony when one loses the object of one’s affections. But it’s the age old question. Is it better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all?

He stayed wedged inside me for a long time. It seemed as if someone knocked on the door and opened it a sliver, but I didn’t care. I was in a safe place—the clubhouse of the Assassins of Youth, Avalanche Chapter. It didn’t get much safer than this, pinned by the Prez to the wall covered with a country rock poster. Those Prospects, those newbies outside in the bar area, it was their job to protect us. They could just wait.

At length, Gideon withdrew. I loved the warm rush of semen that trickled down my inner thigh. He looked warmly at me. I touched the tip of my nose to the drop of sweat on the tip of his nose. His panting against my throat forced a massive shiver up my spine.

“Ah, shit,” I said. I was starting to swear like a biker because I was around them twenty-four seven. “I forgot to tell you. My sisters—”

“Your sisters are here,” echoed Dingo from the doorway.

“Thanks!” I called out, rearranging my clothing into a presentable style. “Yes. I forgot to tell you. Last night I texted my sister Oaklyn. They’ve been dying to come down and meet you. I told her today would be a good day. I hope that’s all right.” I was already accustomed to the practice of asking my man’s permission before doing something. That wasn’t a fundamentalist tradition. That was a biker’s.

“Of course. And the other one’s name?”

“Cambria. Oaklyn’s the nurse.”

“Ah. I’ll remember that. Like Oakland, California.”

“Sort of. Mormons have creative ways of spelling names. But Cambria’s spelled just like the town in California. It’s confusing.”

I made as if to go—Dingo was waiting right outside in the hallway, I could tell—but Gideon took hold of my upper arms.

“Hey. I wanted you to know, I’m beginning to understand your beliefs.”

I smiled. “Beliefs?” There were plenty of them, to be sure.

“Yes. I think I know that our existence hides a core that holds all of our eternal past and future, right?”

I was surprised. “Yes. Something like that. That’s good.”

“But within this framework, we have utter free will.”

“Yes! Utter free will, yes.”

“I could’ve run from you. I could’ve said to myself ‘shit, she’s high maintenance. She’s too hot to handle.’”

My smile faded. “You could have, yes. I’m not the most attractive flower in the bunch. And I have a child with another man.”

He never lost his idealistic smile. “But the fact that I didn’t, that I fought hard for you, means my love is deeper for it. Why would someone give up something that’s so hard-won? I fought like a bitch for you, Mahalia. There was a reason for that. You’re a stunning goddess. Your haunted eyes tell me your whole story. But there’s more hidden at your core. And I want to know everything about you.”

I had to laugh, I was so overcome with emotion. “You’ll be waiting a long time to find out all of that.”

Gideon bent to kiss me, but Oaklyn was shrieking, “Mahalia! We finally found you!”

Cambria added, “This tiny burg is hard as hell to find.”

“I couldn’t keep them out of the hallway,” Dingo said apologetically.

There would be plenty of time for Gideon to kiss me. I trusted him with my life and the life of my precious daughter. That meant we’d be together, sealed unto all eternity.

I took my sisters out into the bar area, where several Assassins drooled over them. I was off the antianxiety medication after weaning myself slowly, and Oaklyn wanted my unused bottle. She’d been having a hard time with the guy she was dating. I went behind the bar to find my purse. That’s when Dingo told me the club had approved a trip to Bountiful for him to bring back some of his fellow Lost Boys. He saw me taking the bottle from my purse.

“I don’t try to kill myself anymore.” He was always so open and unpretentious, just a babe in the woods. “When you come out of that depression, it isn’t easy. Now I have a whole life to look forward to. I actually
want
to live. That’s new to me. Even before I was kicked out of Cornucopia, I wanted to die.”

I nodded with sympathy. “It’s a whole new era, Prospect.” I kissed his cheek in a motherly way and took my bottle of “happy pills” to my sister.

Frank Kafka said “anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.” I used to feel unimaginably old beyond my years. Allred Chiles seemed to suck the very life force from me, leaving me a withered husk of a woman.

Now I was alive, vibrant. Gideon and his newly formed band of brothers were responsible for that. I’d never be alone in a crowd again. Now the crowd was my family.

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About The Author

Bestselling author
Layla Wolfe
likes to bring you alpha males—sometimes two at a time—and the kick-ass women who love them. Her BARE BONES MC series explores the dark, disturbing life of the biker club in Arizona. Her spinoff series THE BENT ZEALOTS MC is a gritty MM saga. She is currently at work on Book One of THE ASSASSINS OF YOUTH MC, another spinoff set in Utah.

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