Chapter 17
The road to recovery wasn’t an easy one and included surgery to repair the damage to my broken nose. Long after the physical wounds healed, the mental scars remained. The terror of my kidnapping. The bone-chilling dread as I questioned if I’d survive. The disgust whenever it dawned on me I’d taken a man’s life. In the heat of the moment, it hadn’t mattered. It was me or him. I understood that I’d had no choice. Sometimes, though, it was all too much. So much gore. The blood. The head.
It all stuck with me. Each time I remembered, I shook and shivered.
However, despite my trauma and though it was hard, an invaluable support system surrounded me. My mother stuck to her word, prioritizing my happiness and safety over hers. My father followed suit, and even Cassie stepped up and made herself available if I needed to talk. She was still with that nitwit, but hey, progress was progress. Heath took a leave of absence from his job and had just returned to New York a few days ago after four months in Corpus Christi.
With all my family’s much appreciated support, Slice helped me the most. He asked for time off and Goose agreed. Saw and Ziggy got permission from their chapter president for Slice to stay at the club, since Mom and Dad wouldn’t hear of him staying under our roof. They also cited Heath’s presence. Perhaps, they claimed, if Heath hadn’t been there, they might’ve allowed Slice to use that room.
Bullshit, but I allowed them to believe their own lies.
Slice attended to my every need. He and Heath bonded. Josh McCall made a few calls and arranged an interview for Heath with a Fortune 500 company that he’d been dying to work for. It was why he left before the end of the summer.
Ophelia called regularly and checked to see if we needed anything. Although Slice couldn’t spend the night, he, Saw, and Ziggy became fixtures at our dinner table. They regaled Mom with stories that would feed her imagination for years to come.
In my darkest hour, though, Slice was there to comfort me for the first few weeks. He’d been immersed in violence for years and shared his own experiences and coping mechanisms. He told me about the first time he saw a life taken, and the first time he took a life, and described in detail how he felt about both. It was a fucked up way for us to deepen our bond, but ultimately, his understanding brought us closer together.
So close, in fact, that I transferred to a school in Oklahoma.
Breaking the news to my parents wasn’t easy. By their expressions, I knew they held back a wealth of words. Heath backed up my decision and helped me choose the right university and fill out my paperwork. He sat with me during the meeting with Mom and Dad. His presence might’ve helped to keep them from losing it. Although Slice had already returned to Oklahoma City, he supported my decision. My parents knew they were outnumbered with my brother and Slice on my side.
Finally, Mom asked me to consider three things: self-defense classes, always carrying a stun gun and pepper spray, and counseling before and after my move.
I was on board with the first two, but hesitant about therapy. I didn’t want to share what occurred and incriminate Slice, Drifter, Goose, Saw, Ziggy, and their respective club members. They’d saved me, and I wouldn’t repay them by telling a stranger of their justified crime.
Of course, my father agreed with Mom, so I didn’t reveal my decision to protect Slice. Heath knew, though, and he squeezed my hand in reassurance when Mom lifted her brow and awaited my agreement. Instead, I just smiled and nodded, promising to consider her advice. Now, she believed I couldn’t find a therapist who was the right fit for me and encouraged me to look in Oklahoma City since Corpus Christi apparently had such slim pickings. Despite her progress, Mom would forever be Mom, offering suggestions and a tad bit clueless.
I loved her with all my heart, though. That was why the first thing I did when I touched down in the Sooner State was send her a selfie and a text declaring my arrival.
Once I rented a cart and collected my belongings from baggage claim, I trudged to passenger pickup to wait for Slice, so we could head over to our new apartment. He’d FaceTime me while he toured several apartments before we chose one together and he placed the deposit. I’d never visited his city and he wanted me to like where we’d live together.
I paced around as I searched for his recently purchased black Ford-150. He said it was for me to drive on the days he couldn’t usher me around on the back of his bike.
Now that I was there, time crept by. Where was he already?
I was too excited to stay in one place. I’d dreamed of a future with Slice for so long. I’d longed to live my life as I saw fit—Mom had lived her life. I’d never understood her obsessive protectiveness toward me, but everything fell into place when it was meant to.
Finally, Slice’s truck gunned into view. Clapping, I bounced up and down at the music blaring from the sunroof. I focused on the driver.
Slice. AKA my boyfriend.
A goofy grin spread across my face. Slice was my boyfriend. Butterflies swooped in my belly at the thought.
He pulled up beside me. I’d intentionally dressed colorful, so he could easily spot me. Throwing the truck in park, he hopped out and strolled to me. His long, beautiful hair had no tether, flowing freely around him. Underneath his denim cut, a short-sleeved T-shirt stretched across his muscles. Powerful thighs outlined his jeans, and my nipples hardened at the bulge in his crotch.
Wrapping his strong arms around my waist, he kissed the top of my head and held me close. Burying my nose in the crook of his neck, I inhaled his scent and hugged him, reveling in his nearness.
“I missed you, sweetheart,” he breathed into my hair.
“Ditto.” As I sank into his embrace, it was the only word I could manage.
During my flight, doubts assailed me. Not only was I moving away from home and leaving my family, I was moving to another state, a place I’d never visited. I wondered if I made the right choice or if I was an impulsive idealist. Yet how secure and cherished I felt in his arms arrested my fears.
I definitely made the right choice.
He pulled away ever so slightly, bent down and kissed me. It was brief and chaste, leaving me wanting more, and desperately wishing we were at the apartment.
“C’mon, Effie,” he said, releasing me. He transferred my bags from the cart to the truck bed. “Let’s go home. I can’t wait to show you our place.”
Home .
The word resonated, filling me with giddiness so intense, I giggled. My home was with Slice now, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Idle chatter and off-key singing highlighted the drive to the apartment. We took turns picking songs to play on the aux cord. Neither of us could carry a tune, but we still had fun.
My new home was an hour away from the airport, nestled in a quiet neighborhood brimming with manicured mid-century architecture. According to GPS, we were twenty minutes away from downtown, a slice of suburbia amid the city. Towering oaks lined the street, creating a canopy that filtered out the sunlight. The five-story complex was constructed of red bricks with white siding. Small balconies graced each unit. Residents of all ages milled about, walking their dogs, jogging around, and playing games.
Admittedly, it shocked me. Slice had only sent pictures of the interior and withheld the exact address, likely a safety measure in case our texts were compromised. I had expected us to be in the heart of Oklahoma City, not the picturesque outskirts.
“This neighborhood looks so nice,” I stated as Slice parked the truck.
He cocked a brow. “Did you think I’d choose a shitty area?”
Fuck, was that the impression my words gave?
“No, no, of course not.” My face heated at my blunder. While I saw the inside of the apartments before we chose, I’d never seen the surroundings. “I just didn’t expect the area to look like an inspiration for Norman Rockwell.”
“Didn’t he mostly paint holiday and historical shit?”
“His paintings try to capture an idealistic version of the lives of everyday Americans. This,” I stated, indicating the area with my hand, “is an ideal for many people.”
He let out a low whistle as he cut off the engine, grinning at me. “My girl knows her shit, huh?”
My girl.
I’d never tire of hearing that.
“I was at the top of my class in honors art class, baby,” I bragged.
He chuckled and I giggled.
Like a true gentleman, he opened my door for me, holding my hand as he helped me out of the truck. He grabbed my two oversized duffle bags but allowed me to roll my suitcase, so I didn’t feel like a complete burden.
I took in the minute details as we walked to the building. Professional landscaping, community benches, and quiet corners all added to the cozy atmosphere. I couldn’t wait to snap some pictures and send them to my parents, although I’d refrain from posting anything online that gave away my location.
I’d learned the dangers of that the hard way.
Once we reached the third floor, Slice set the bags down, reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a set of keys.
“Your set is on your nightstand,” he said, fumbling with the keys before he successfully unlocked the door. He allowed me to enter first. The space was open, and natural light streamed through the large windows. A comfy-looking sectional faced a wall-mounted TV, a small bookshelf below the device. The kitchen was small but filled with modern appliances and a tiny island. Near the hallway, a dining table with two chairs was tucked in a corner.
Everything was orderly, but lacked personal touches, something I’d remedy. Ideas populated my mind. Throw pillows and blankets on the couch, a plant on the dining table, pretty artwork on the walls, and a fluffy rug to take up some of the empty space on the floor. However, home décor was an agenda for another day.
“What do you think?” he asked as I walked to the sliding door and peeked outside.
He’d managed to fit two lawn chairs and a little table on the small balcony. Already, I knew I’d be spending a lot of time there.
“This is amazing, Slice.” I faced him and smiled. We hadn’t seen each other in almost six weeks. Before he left and once I recovered, we’d gone on dates, including detours to motels. Slice had also introduced me to sex on the back of his bike. I didn’t want him to think his hard work was unappreciated, but I wanted to feel his strong arms around me. My anxiety flared and I returned to topic. “When can we go shopping for decorations?”
The corner of his lips tilted into a smile and he shook his head, nodding to the room at large. “Amazing, huh?”
Though his tone was teasing, I rolled my eyes. “Every home needs decoration, so hush.”
“If you insist. C’mon, let me show you our room.”
We abandoned my luggage by the door. He led me down the short hallway where three doorways stood. He pushed open the one straight ahead and revealed a tidy bedroom. The walls were a calming shade of pastel blue, while the comforter was a deeper navy. Like the rest of the apartment, it was admirably neat, but in dire need of personalization.
Slice watched me closely as I examined the room. “What do you think?” he asked.
“Didn’t peg you as a neat freak.”
He opened his arms and I happily stepped into his embrace.
Those strong arms wrapped around my waist, holding me close to his chest. “You thought I was a slob who lived in filth?”
“A busy guy who couldn’t bother with housework,” I corrected, licking my lips and holding his gaze.
His eyes followed my tongue and he groaned. He leaned in, capturing my lips. I melted into him, my hands fisting his shirt. As our tongues met, everything felt right with the world. This new chapter of my life seemed straight out of one of my mom’s romance novels. After ups and downs, the hero gets the girl, and they find their happily-ever-after.
The kiss roughened and turned more demanding. I matched his urgency and tangled my fingers in his silky hair.
“Slice,” I breathed against his lips.
He grabbed my ass and I gasped.
Capturing my wrist, he guided my hand to the bulge in his jeans. A wave of heat swept through me at the feel of his thick hardness.
“Feel what you do to me, baby? That’s all for you.”
Desire jolted through me. Suddenly, the urge to taste him overtook me. Blowjobs weren’t my expertise, but you only perfected a skill with practice. His tongue had brought me intense pleasure, and I desperately wanted to return the favor. After a moment of hesitation, I dropped to my knees and grabbed his belt buckle, but didn’t undo it as smoothly as I imagined.
“Shit,” I mumbled as I struggled.
My cheeks heated at his deep chuckle.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart—”
“Shut up,” I ordered, glaring up at him. “I want to.”
His eyes darkened and he licked his lips. “Who am I to stop you? I’ve dreamed of my dick in your mouth.”
He removed the troublesome belt and tossed it aside. My fingers deftly unzipped his jeans, freeing his erection. Not wasting a second, I wrapped my lips around his cock tip and swirled my tongue.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
Encouraged, I savored his salty flavor and took him deeper, stretching my lips around his girth. I noted what elicited the most reactions, repeating every action that made him swear under his breath. His muscles tightened and I understood his orgasm neared. I desperately wanted him to let go, so I took him deeper until his trimmed pubic hair tickled my nose. Each of my gags reminded me to relax my throat and breathe through my nose. Slice’s enormous cock made him almost impossible to deepthroat. However, I managed, and I loved the way he filled my mouth so completely.
“Fuck, Effie…feels so fucking good,” he panted. He held my head and pumped in and out of my mouth.
His breathing harshened and his muscles tautened. I sucked him harder. A guttural groan left him and his cock pulsed as his cum flooded my mouth. I swallowed every drop, breathing in his scent, my head spinning at his heady taste.
Pulling back, I looked at him through the sweep of my lashes, admiring his parted lips and hooded eyes. He helped me to my feet, and to my surprise, kissed me. In my limited experience, guys weren’t fond of kissing after blowjobs. Then again, they also hadn’t enjoyed going down on me, whereas Slice was a certified munch. Clearly, he was a different caliber of man.
His tongue pushed into my mouth. I’m sure he tasted himself on my tongue. His hands were everywhere, roaming over my curves before homing in on my breasts. As he groped my tits, he walked me to the bed. When my thighs hit the mattress, we separated, hurriedly undressing. Once we were both nude, he pushed me onto the bed, his eyes burning with hunger.
“Missed you so fucking much,” he growled, before his mouth descended on my nipple.
I moaned, arching into him as his tongue swirled around the pebbling bud. His hand slipped between my legs, two fingers easing inside of me as he worshipped my tits, lavishing each breast with plenty of attention. My hips bucked when his thumb met my clit, my cunt clinching around his invading digits.
“Don’t stop, please,” I whimpered, my orgasm rapidly building.
Try as I might, I couldn’t replicate the pleasure Slice gave me with my own fingers, and I was too nervous to own a sex toy in my parents’ house. It left me sensitive and wanting, gasping and writhing each time he moved his fingers.
He twisted his fingers just right, stimulating my G-spot and curling my toes. All the while, his thumb rubbed circles over my clit, and his mouth worshipped my breasts. The combined sensation hurled me toward ecstasy. He added a third finger.
“Slice,” I screamed. “Oh, holy fuck!” My body jerking, I gushed around him, stars dancing in my vision.
Slice released my nipple with a wet ‘pop,’ his eyes glued to my face as I rode out my orgasm. He gentled his motions, his hand finally stilling when the pleasure bordered on overstimulation.
“I need to be inside you,” he breathed, positioning myself between my thighs.
“I want you inside me,” I replied, licking my lips as he stroked his hard cock, spreading his precum around his shaft.
He must’ve gathered watching him touch himself was arousing. He began putting on more of a show for me. An idea spawned in my head, and before he could insert himself, I took advantage of his idling and pushed him down.
His hands flew to my hips as I straddled him. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”
“Riding you,” I said simply and sank down on him.
We both moaned. The way his cock stretched me made my head loll. Being on top not only allowed me to set the pace but helped him to go deeper and hit every pressure point.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his eyes mere slits.
I started moving my hips, resting my hands on his chest to steady myself. It took me a moment to find a rhythm that felt good for us both, but when I did, bliss exploded through my body. Not wanting to offend my neighbors on day one, I buried my face in his neck to muffle my moans.
“Oh my gosh!” I whimpered.
“That’s it, baby,” he growled, his grip on my hips digging into my skin as he guided my movements. “Keep fucking me like that.”
He grew more demanding, so I moved my hips faster, my body coiling tighter as I rode him like there was no tomorrow. His cock twitched inside me. Meeting me stroke for stroke, he thrust into me. The primal echo of skin slapping against skin bounced off the bedroom walls. Fucking quietly was an impossible task. It simply wasn’t feasible, with such electricity racing through my body.
“I’m close,” I announced, resting my forehead against his and looking into his eyes.
“Come for me, Effie,” he demanded, inserting a hand between our sweaty bodies and teasing my clit. “Soak my fucking cock, sweetheart.”
His ragged voice, naughty demand, and delicious touch catapulted me over the edge. My orgasm ripped through me and I cried out. My body convulsed, and my nails dug into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped indents.
“Fuck, yes!” he roared, his hips slamming into mine one final time before his cum flooded my walls.
Thank God for birth control, the proud sponsor of worry-free creampies.
When my pleasure started to wane, I collapsed onto his chest. Trembling, I struggled to catch my breath. Slice slung an arm around my waist, holding me close while we recovered from our earth-shattering orgasms.
“That was…” I started, my voice shaking.
My words trailed into a breathy laugh, my head still spinning. That was worth the wait, and the best housewarming present I could ask for. We had no limit on how often we made love now that we lived together. The realization thrilled me to no end.
“Incredible,” he finished, kissing the top of my head before tilting my chin up to look me in the eyes. “You’re incredible, Effie. I’m so fucking happy you’re finally here with me.”
My heart fluttered at his words. I smiled up at him, my body still tingling from the aftershocks of my climax.
“I’m happy I’m here, too.” I lifted myself and brushed my lips over his. “I missed you so much.”
Video calls and text messages hadn’t been enough to satisfy my need for him in the last few weeks. Nothing compared to his presence, his scent, and his skin against mine.
We’d already been through the fire. Undoubtedly, we’d face more ups and downs in our relationship; it was only natural. But I didn’t care. I loved him and he loved me. Come what may, I was eager to spend the rest of my life by his side.