Twenty-Eight
I think we both slept eventually, but we were both restless after that conversation, and I wondered if she felt as broken as I did when we both realised that we’d never have that. We’d never wear each other’s names with pride, we’d never belong to each other in that fundamental way that bikers and their old ladies did.
For the first time, I was irrationally pissed off at my one diseased nut, for the way it had destroyed my life, because before that, I had everything, didn’t I? Maybe not her, but look at how things had worked out. I’d have met her anyway, cancer or not, because she was the best friend of a brother’s old lady. We’d have met and we could have done this right. We could have been everything to each other, and instead we were just killing time together, until this damn disease finished me off.
What the hell was I doing to her? Dragging her into my shit? Forcing her to stay by my side, while I withered and died? I was a complete asshole.
I lurched out of bed and ran for the bathroom, pushing the door closed as panic suddenly started to overwhelm me, and I realised I’d messed up like never before, because I’d messed up her life too.
I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was suffocating, and I clawed at my throat as I tried to drag air into my lungs. The fuck! I felt like I was fucking dying already. I dropped down onto the toilet seat as I gasped for breath, my stomach clenching as nausea started to swirl too, just to add an extra layer of terror to my entire situation .
“Stitch? Are you okay?” Fuck! I tried to answer her, but I couldn’t get any words out.
“Stitch? You’re scaring me. Are you ill? Do you need help?” Finally I reached out and grabbed the door, pulling it open a crack. There was a brief pause, before Camille took over and pushed the door further to poke her head in.
I met her eyes, but I was still fighting for air, and feeling even more like the biggest fucking pussy right now. Was there no chance of hiding even one side of my pathetic weakness from her?
“Hey, it’s okay, Stitch. You’re having a panic attack, that’s all. Just breathe for me. Slow… no, don’t take those tiny breaths, you’ll hyperventilate.” Hyperventilating. Yeah, I was already there, with dots swimming in my greying vision, as I felt tingling in my face and hands.
“Shhh… just slow down, one breath at a time, babe. You can do this. It’s okay. I’ve been there, and I know it’s terrifying, but it’ll pass, okay?”
She was stroking my face, and running her fingers through my hair as she tried to calm me. Her soothing touch was starting to get through to me, as I tried to put my focus there, rather than on my inability to breathe like a normal person.
My fucking heart was racing so fast, I’d even wondered if I was having a heart attack. A panic attack. A fucking panic attack. It was humiliating, because it was just another sign that I was too weak to be her man. She shouldn’t be looking after me, it should be me looking after her.
“Stitch, shhh… don’t hide from me. I can see you retreating, now you can breathe better. There’s no shame in this, do you understand?”
Camille tried to get me to look at her, but when I fought her gentle touch, she fisted my hair, and pulled back, and despite my shame, it brought my eyes to her face. Her pulling on my hair felt fucking amazing. And it was yet another distraction from my inner freakout, wasn’t it?
“The fact that you’re going through so much, and this is the first time this has happened, is incredible. The strength you show every fucking day, Stitch, is a testament to the man you are. You think you’re showing weakness, but it’s the exact opposite. You’ve been strong for so long, but sometimes you need to let it out. That’s how you stay strong.”
I closed my eyes, because I didn’t deserve her kindness, not after dragging her into my shitstorm of a life .
“I’m sorry.” Hey, look at that. I just made words, and I suddenly realised that I was breathing properly, and the tingles were starting to recede.
“Don’t be sorry, Stitch. Just please don’t hide from me when you need help. I’m your wife, and I want to be by your side for everything.”
My fists clenched, and almost felt as strong as usual.
“Yeah? I’m sure you’ll come to regret that soon enough.”
Camille sighed, pressing her lips against my forehead.
“Please stop talking like you want to push me away, Stitch. I’m not going anywhere.”
I moved, lurching up from the hard lid of the toilet, and forcing her to backpedal a few steps.
“Yeah? Well, I will be, won’t I? And I was a fucking asshole to put all of this on you. You want to be by my side? Will you still want that when I’m hairless and emaciated, shitting in a bag, and barely alive? No. You’ll wish you’d never met me. This was a fucking mistake, and I’m so sorry. Jesus, I’m sorry.”
I shoved past her, and staggered forward a few steps when she shoved me from behind.
“What the fuck?”
“Don’t do that, you prick! Don’t talk at me like you want me to run from you, from my responsibilities.”
I rounded on her as her words were still sinking in for both of us.
“Responsibilities? Yeah, that’s it, you’re getting it now, aren’t you? Who do you think is gonna have to mop up my vomit, and wipe my ass when I can’t anymore? You gonna relish being my fucking wife then? I didn’t think so.”
Cammy
I ’d heard of people waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but what the hell was this? Panic attacks I could more than understand. I’d been there myself so many times after… but this, this was like he was hating on himself for being with me , and it didn’t make sense. He didn’t trick me into anything, or force me. In fact, he’d been very clear that consent mattered to him, showing me the decent guy inside him, inside the leather cut that so many lesser men would wear and sully with their cruelty.
“Stitch, I swear to god, I’m gonna punch you in a minute.”
He returned from the bedroom where he’d already dragged on underwear and finished pulling a t-shirt over his head.
“Go right ahead, darlin’. I’m pretty sure I fucking deserve it. Once you’ve done that, I’m driving us back to the clubhouse, so we can sort out getting this shit wrapped up, and you can go back to your life.”
I shoved past him to grab clothes too, because this wasn’t an argument to have naked, and more than that, I wished we weren’t having it at all. I grabbed underwear and a t-shirt and jeans from the clothes they’d packed for me, for our honeymoon.
Our honeymoon… it was supposed to be a happy time, full of love and sex, and pleasure. Why the hell was he pushing me away when he should be holding me closer? I got as far as pulling on the underwear, and then I was crying. How had things gone so wrong so fast? All I wanted was for Stitch to wrap his arms around me, and tell me he loved me, so why was he so intent on throwing away everything we had? Everything we could be.
“Jesus… don’t cry, my god, I’m so sorry, babe.” Suddenly he was giving me exactly what I wanted, his strong arms wrapping around me from behind, while he made shushing sounds as I sobbed silently in his arms.
“Why…”
“I’m no good, babe, haven’t you figured that out yet? I thought I was at least a decent guy, but it turns out I’m just a selfish asshole. I’m so sorry. You’ll be better off without me.”
I broke his hold on me and turned to look at him, watching his face soften as he took in my tearful sorrow. Stitch cupped my cheeks in his palms, letting out the heaviest of sighs.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, and that’s exactly what I’m doing, isn’t it? I’m sorry. I just woke up with a sense of clarity, that’s all. I shouldn’t be tainting your life with mine, because you have to live it the right way. You have to find a decent guy who’s worthy of you, and a life that’s full of all the amazing things you deserve. I can’t be more than a brief blip on the radar, something you look back on with regret, for the time I wasted when you could have been with someone worthy.”
I pulled free of his grip and slapped his face hard, watching his eyes widen with shock as he cupped his cheek.
“I deserve that, and so much more, Camille. Give it to me. Punch me, do whatever you need to.”
“You arrogant prick! You think I’m with you because you somehow coerced me into feeling something for you? You think I’m with you out of pity or something equally fucking lame? I fell in love with you, you stupid son of a bitch! I fell in love with the person you are. The sweet guy, the funny guy, the wickedly sexual guy who makes me soak all my damn underwear when he’s around. I don’t want you to ‘free me’ from our fucking marriage. I want you to man up and be the husband I deserve! I know I married the right man, but apparently you’re too fucking stupid to see that! Or your head is so far up your damn ass that-”
His lips silenced me mid-rant and his kiss was anything but sweet or gentle. It was bruising and full of passion. It was intense and full of sadness. It was dominant enough that I yielded to him in an instant, and fisted his t-shirt as he walked me back to the bed, and stopped right by the edge.
“Married fuck number four is gonna be angry sex, babe. I can’t wait for you to let me fuck all that rage out of you.”
Stitch
I ’d never been with a woman who could twist me around so much in my head that one minute I’m ready to walk away, for her benefit, and the next, I’m so desperate to bury my dick in her that I can’t hold back.
Her underwear was wrenched down, and I shoved her over the bed, holding her down by my hand on the small of her back, as I shoved my boxers down. Thank fuck we hadn’t finished getting dressed yet.
I grabbed my dick and rubbed it against her, sliding it over her clit, and between those moist folds, just making sure she was ready before I slammed it in to the hilt.
We both let out low moans of pleasure, and then I was fucking her like an animal. I couldn’t get enough of that pussy of hers, of the way she writhed and moaned, the way each hard thrust filled her just right. It was like she literally made for me, for my dick, and every time I was inside her, I never wanted to leave her body.
“Thought you were going to angry fuck me, Stitch. Is that all you’ve got?”
Could she be more fucking perfect? I reached down to wrap her long silky hair around my fist, and dragged her head up off the bed, while my other hand held her in place. She wanted angry fucking? She’d get the best I could fucking give her.
“You think sassing me is gonna get you what you want? My whore of a wife just wants my dick all the damn time, you just need me in your pussy, don’t you? Bet you even want me in this tight ass of yours.”
The way she rippled around my dick told me what she wouldn’t put her voice to. It was fine, because I knew she’d let me. It wasn’t on her list, but it was going to be, because I’d add it my damn self, to match up nicely with the ‘fuck my hot wifey in the ass’ which was on my list, and not just once, but three times now. What can I say? I wanted every part of her.
I pulled out of her just long enough to slide my fingers into that sweet wet pussy of hers, and drag that moisture up to her asshole, and then I slid back inside her as I started fingering her other hole.
“Dammit, Stitch!”
Yeah, she likes that alright. My phone suddenly started buzzing on the bedside shelf and I lunged over to grab it; it was Reacher, and that was kinda perfect.
“Keep quiet babe, I need to take this.”
“ What? Stop!”
I laughed, and answered the phone, my dick and finger still deep in her holes.
“Hey brother, this is unexpected.”
I switched the phone onto speaker, and set it on the bed beside my wife.
“I just thought I’d check in with you both, and see how things are going.”
I grinned as I pulled back and slammed deep inside Camille, who had buried her face in the bedding to try and muffle the squeak that normally slipped out each time.
“Yeah, we’re good thanks, brother. Just doing, you know, uh… honeymoon stuff.”
Reacher groaned. “Tell me you’re not in the middle of that right now, dammit. I can call back.”
I thrust again and moved my finger inside her ass, twisting it slightly, and she let out a breathy ‘oh god’ in response.
“Fuck’s sake. Why did you even answer the damn phone, Stitch? I don’t wanna listen to you guys fucking!”
I smirked, feeling the sweet sweet revenge at last.
“Well… I figured if it’s good enough for you to do to me, brother, then it was only fair that I return the favour.” I started fucking Camille with rapid jerks of my hips, making sure Reacher could hear our skin slapping together.
“That was one time, dammit. I’m hanging up.”
“Wait!”
Reacher let out a frustrated growl.
“What?”
I reached under Camille, and pinched her clit, grinning proudly as she fucking lit up with her orgasm, letting out several breathy gasps, and then a low moan as her body flexed, and her pussy clenched around my dick. I followed her into fucking blessed relief, and made sure Reacher heard every second of it.
“You sick fucking bastard.”
I laughed, the sound breathy and triumphant.
“Maybe you’ll think twice about fucking your old lady when you’re talking to me, Reacher.”
He snorted. “Thanks for the lesson, you sick fuck. Cammy? Slap him for me, yeah?”
She giggled, and turned to look at me, still trapped beneath me, and with her holes stuffed.
“Yeah, she already did that, brother.”
“Good.” The call ended suddenly, and I laughed again, sliding my finger out of Camille’s ass and leaning forward to kiss her shoulder, trailing kisses over her warm skin.
“That was fun, right? I mean, you coulda snapped my finger with how you tightened your asshole on it.”