***POV – Damion
WARNING – sex scene!!!
These past few weeks were grueling – all I could do was think about Mel. We’ve been touring around Europe and Asia to promote our bikes. I was hoping Mel would join me, but she had some family issues she didn’t want to talk about on the phone. Alejandro kept an eye on her for me, and according to my brother, she’s distant, in her own world, and still feeling sick.
Fuck-it, it’s been hell. I’ve never even thought about a girl more than five seconds, what to say minutes, hours, days, weeks!
Kiara opens the door and it’s as if the devil came knocking. Something is wrong.
“Uh, Damion …. eh … hi! You’re back eventually. You look tired.” She doesn’t move to let me in and her face is a combination of guilt and fear. She tries to hide it.
“We’ve missed you at the New Years’ party.”
“Hi, yeh, it’s been too long and I fucking miss my girl. Can I come in?” She still is not moving but she looks over her shoulder into the house and then back at me. A sickening feeling is starting to grow inside my guts. Is something wrong with Mel?
“Sure, I guess.” I walk past her my eyes searching for Mel, but she’s not there.
“Mel is not here. She went to your house.” Kiara keeps fidgeting with her hands, wringing them together. Something is up for sure, but what? You go away for four hellish weeks and everything changes. I look around the room and my eyes land on a book on the kitchen counter – ‘What to expect when you’re expecting’
Is that why Kiara is so on edge? Is she pregnant? I didn’t even know she was seeing somebody. Although, Sean was talking about her the whole time we were away. Her eyes follow mine and she picks up the book quickly, hugging it to her chest.
“Eh, a friend is expecting her first baby … we want to give her the book as a present.” She doesn’t look me in the eye, she just stares at the floor. I’m relieved to hear that she’s not the one that got a bun in the oven. I think the Blackburn brothers would kill the dude, they tend to think of Kiara as another sister.
I walk out and Kiara lets out a deep breath of relief, I’m sure of it. I’m missing something, but right now I need to sleep. My mind keeps on making assumptions, thinking of all scenarios why Kiara would be so jumpy, but none of them are pleasant.
I get home in record time, managing a superbike through traffic has its advantages – you can go fast and traffic jams don’t bother you much.
I knock on my own door, wanting to surprise her as she’s only expecting me home tomorrow. She opens the door and her face floods with shock, her jaw drops slightly and all I can focus on is those plumb lips, begging for a kiss.
“Hi angel, miss me?”
“Oh ship, Damion!” There’s something in her voice, something I can’t place but don’t like at all. So many emotions rush over her - sketchy being one of them – as if she’s hiding something. I can’t figure it out and it’s starting to scare me. There’s a few seconds of silence as if she’s getting her thoughts in order and then she speaks again, this time her voice sounds normal.
“You’re back!” She runs into my arms with a little piglet squeal and I hold onto her for dear life. Damn, I’ve missed this girl like I can’t explain. Then she lets me go and I can’t help my eyes as they drag over every curve as she strides her sexy-as-fuck body to the kitchen.
She takes a drink from the fridge and leans against the counter, taking a sip from the bottle. My heart hammers against my ribs and my pants get restricted. I need to empty myself inside her if I’m going to survive the day. And I need to do it NOW. Told you I’m not a patient guy. Four weeks without having her is more than I can take.
She drops the bottle on the counter and that little coy smile is back on her face, highlighting her sexy dimples, and my dick jumps. I don’t know how it is possible for somebody to look so fucking innocently adorable and so steamingly hot and sexy at the same time. Those eyes, the strands of hair that loosely curls around her face, and her plump juicy lips. She’s not playing fair.
I turn her around and press myself against her back while removing her top. I crave a fix of my drug, my addiction. I’m so hooked, but I don’t care.
“Yes angel,” I say definitely distracted, my mind not on the conversation at all.
My one hand trails up from her navel to caress her breast through the lacy material of her bra, while the other twirl her hair into my fist, pulling her head to the side, leaving her neck exposed. I leave a trail of soft kisses along the arch of her neck and then I nip softly while sucking on her skin.
She lets out a ragged breath, a subtle shiver runs through her body, small hints that let me know she’s affected. My hand lands on her flat-toned tummy and gropes her harder against me, still sucking on her neck. She tenses up and for a moment I think that I’m doing something wrong because she pulls my hand away from her stomach and turns around.
“We need to talk,” her voice is poignant.
“Uh-hu,” is the only response I can muster now.
Then her mouth lands on mine and she slips her tongue into the deepness of my mouth, twirling it around mine. My hand moves up and I tighten my fingers on her neck, holding her head while getting more and more on a high. My hand moves down her spine and slowly unbutton her pants, pulling them down to the floor.
Then I pick her up and make her sit on the counter. With practiced fingers, I unclasp her bra and expose the most perfect breasts in the world to my eager mouth. I suck her nipple and she wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me closer to her while arching her back. She struggles to get my shirt over my head and I let her go for a moment to help get rid of it.
Her small hands come to rest against my chest and she bites her bottom lip, while her eyes are giving me a fuck-me-please look. I stay like that for a moment, taking in the beauty of her sitting naked on my kitchen counter. Her arms sneak around my neck, scraping her nails against my skin, and then her hands fist in my hair. Every primal instinct I have begs me to claim her right now.
One hand pushes her back so she’s laying on the counter and the other grabs her ass to lift her hips from the counter. She gives a feral growl as my mouth slowly moves up between her legs at a snail’s pace. Her muscles tense and her breathing becomes unevenly, as my hand moves over the soft curls covering her erotic pussy and slip between the warm wet folds. The way her body reacts is almost more than I can take and an animalistic sound slips from my lips. I move my finger slowly back and forth.
“Damion,” She whispers my name as her hands dig into my back. I suck in my breath as I slip a finger tantalizing into her passage, feeling the wet hot stiffness. Goosebumps cover her skin and a warm glow spreads over her cheeks. Damn, I love everything about this girl.
I part her thighs, exposing her womanhood to my eager eyes and then my tongue slowly licks her clit. She pushes her pussy into my face and I nib and suck on that tender nob. She puts her legs over my shoulder and I eat her out, drinking in her sweet juices while she moans with pleasure. Her taste increases my craving for her. Her hips start rocking faster and her nails dig through the skin on my back, her eyes closed.
“Damion … “ I love the way she calls my name and I can hear the glee in her voice, “…. holy … ship … “ Her muscles clamp and I know she’s right there on the edge, so I keep pushing my finger into her hole, drilling her clit with my tongue. Her face pulls with pleasure and she sucks in her breath.
“I’m … FLIP!!!! She screams with gratification and I can see the orgasm coil through her bones. Her body stiffens and she points her toes. Her pussy rips my finger when the primal joy raptures out, but I keep my torturing pace going. She tries to push me away, but I won’t let her, and she falls back again, panting, her breasts rising and falling with each fast breath. I keep pushing my fingers deep inside her as I hungrily try to lick every drop as if it will satisfy my urges for more – but it doesn’t. I hear her scream as the next one hits her full force, her legs clamping around my head.
Only then do I pull my fingers out of her slowly and pull her up, taking her mouth hostage. She eagerly licks her juices from my lips while her fingers open my trousers to free my suffocating cock. I pull my jeans and boxers down, kicking them away with my feet, without removing my lips from hers. Moving forward again the end of my cock rubs against her stiff clit and she moans softly while arching her back.
I take one of her stiff nipples in my mouth and suck it hard and desperate. Her hand moves over my balls and then she gives my cock a squeeze, taking it in her hands. Damn, I almost cum right there. I can’t wait anymore, I’m quickly losing control – as if I have any around her. She’s like a drug I’m craving like an addict, and I know it’s lame, but I just can’t resist her. I spread her folds and put a finger into her wet pussy, making sure she’s wet and ready for me. She takes hold of my hand and moves it from her vagina to her mouth, sucking on my fingers.
“Fuck!” I pull my fingers from her mouth and put my hands on her ass, pulling her forward and aligning her pussy with my junk. I drop her slightly and she slips easily over me, feeling her wetness spreading over my shaft while I enter her tight pussy to the fullest. I’m getting high each time I’m inside her, an addiction I never want to give up.
“Ooohhhh,” she groans, and her hips start moving in rhythm with mine. I push in deep, pull out only to push back in again. I rock my pelvis, thrusting in and out, our bodies slamming together. Speeding up my movements as I feel myself getting close. Mel moans and then her pussy contracts around me, milking me like a cow. I growl, losing myself in her, cumming harder than ever before. Needing a moment to recover, I stay inside her and let her sit on the counter, her legs still wrapped around me and her body leaning against me. I breathe deep short breaths, while my heartbeat slowly descends to normal.
“I’ll never look at this counter with the same eyes again,” Mel whispers against my chest and I have to smile. Definitely not. I pick her up in my arms, walk up the stairs to my room and drop her unceremoniously on my bed.
“Hey, asshole. I’ve just let you stick your ugly dick in me and this is the way you repay me?” She tries to look angry, but instead, she looks freaking adorably cute.
“Ugly? How dare you call my pleasure-creating diddle stick, ugly!” I act hurt while walking to the bathroom to run us a nice hot bubble bath. We get into the bath and lie in the warm water, Mel between my legs, her back leaning against my chest, and talk about my tour, our likes and dislikes, getting to know more about each other. Then she asks a devastating question.
“D send me a link, there were gruesome photos, some of your sister, a small boy, another biker.” Well, technically it’s not a question, but it is also a question. I feel her muscles tense and I give her a little kiss on her head. I sigh. It’s not something I ever talk about, I can’t without destroying something of myself.
Suddenly I want to tell her to run while she still can, to get away from my past and not worry about the collateral damage she’ll leave behind, as long as she gets out mostly unscathed. I’ve been broken for a long time, and I’m not sure it’s something that can be fixed. But the selfish part of me wants her to stay.
Guilt thrust through me and gets stuck in my throat, forcing me to swallow hard if I don’t want to puke. If I tell her, she’ll know the killer in me, she’ll come face to face with probably my biggest demons.
“Mel, I’ve told you I have loads of luggage filling my past. If you want to get away, now is the time.” I need to give her the choice, I just can’t be selfish with her. But I know if she leaves, I won’t ever be the same. She doesn’t respond and I can’t see her face, but I guess those violet blues are swarming with emotions right now.
It’s something I love about her, the over-emotional expressions but I don’t want to see it at this moment. All I can do is wait for the shoe to drop, for her to get out of the bath and out of my life. I hold my unworthy breath, praying that she’ll stay but hoping that she wouldn’t.
“I think it’s too late for that. I told you before that I will be brave. That I will help you chase away those monsters.” I remember the words of the song, words that mean so much to me.
“Mel, that shit, I can’t put it on you!”
“Well, you’ll have to. We don’t really have a choice anymore,” I frown at her words, wondering what exactly she means, but she doesn’t give me much time to top about it.
“I can’t help you if I don’t know what it’s all about ... and you can’t go forward if you don’t face the past first. I need you to do this, for us … eh for me … ” I let out the breath I was holding. I’m not sure what the feeling in the pit of my stomach is, but I’ll have to investigate it sometime. But if I have to hypothesize it, it smells like fear, the fear of losing her to be precise.
“I ... eh ... are you sure.” She stays quiet for a while as if she understands that I need to get my thoughts in order.
“Maybe start slow, I already know about your sister, tell me about what happened with the boy.” I know she’s right, I need to tell her everything, but some of my broken pieces are buried just too deep – is it even possible to dig them up.
“Well, it happened in a MotoCross race, I was 15 and winning, going into my last lap. I did a big jump and while in the air a small boy ran onto the track. I tried to kick my bike away, but my foot got stuck and I broke my ankle. But worse, I still landed on top of that boy, killing him on impact.” I bite my cheek not to start crying in front of her, but I can feel tears running down my cheeks already.
“His face, those eyes filled with fear,” I let out a sob and wipe the tears with my hand. Mel keeps quiet and only moves to put her hand on my leg, squeezing it.
“I was in a very dark place after that, but then fate sent you to me again, and again, you pulled me out of my shit-hole of a mind.” We sit like that for a while, not moving, not talking, each one in his own bubble of thoughts. And instead of letting my demons pull me back into the darkness like usual, I don’t let them.
Maybe Mel is helping me face my monsters. Maybe she can fix the broken pieces if I let her. She gets out of the bath and kisses me before walking to my room. When she gets back, she’s fully dressed.
“So, will this work for the girlfriend of the champion?” She poses like a real model, dressed in a short tight white off-shoulder long-sleeved dress with buttons at the front. This one is even more of a dick-teaser than that denim one. And on her feet is white thick sole converses. Most of her hair is hanging loose, but part of it is braided and tied around her head almost like a halo. She wears a little make-up and smells define. Oh my gosh, she’s so beautiful. Perfect. Flawless.
“Damion? What do you think?” I realize that I haven’t answered her question, I was too busy trying to not lose control again, the sight of her owns me in manners I didn’t know was possible. She opens her mouth and my thoughts are on grabbing her hair while pumping my cock into that delicious mouth, her head bobbing up and down as she sucks me with hollowed-out cheeks.
She turns her head and I frown – shit I still haven’t answered her.
“Yes … “ I sound like such a pussy-wimp. Hell, what is happening to me. I’m such a selfish prick of a fucking asshole. All I’m thinking about is my needs, what I want. She’s so innocent and vulnerable, an angel, and she’s getting too close to my dark soul, and it terrifies me.
What if I can’t be fixed? What if I lose her?
“Eh, Mel, you said we needed to talk?”
“Yes … ug … how to say this … you see, there might be … I might be …”
There’s a knock at the door and we both frown at each other, not expecting anybody. I get out and drape a towel around me. She stands there, those deeply apprehensive eyes scouring my body and dipped full of lust mixed with something I don’t want to annalize right now. No, don’t go down that tunnel. Rather fall back to my usual cocky wit. Why do I like teasing her so much? Maybe because she looks fucking adorable when she’s agitated.
“Thinking about getting laid, angel?” A light blush slowly spread over her cheeks and it heightens my attraction for her, she looks almost untouchable. Then she runs down the stairs to open the door for whoever is knocking it out of its hinges. Damn people who can’t respect personal space and privacy.
“Damion, it’s for you!” Mel yells from below, a trace of anger in her voice, and suddenly I feel the tension coiling inside me as I walk down the stairs, still in my towel. Then the tightness threatens to explode, but I force myself to breathe, to pretend that I’m unaffected. There in my kitchen is nobody else than Chloe, a big smirk spread across her face. My first instinct is to look at Mel where she leans against the door, arms crossed, looking kinda bored, but her eyes tell a different story.
I wonder how come I can read this girl like a book, but at the same time, each emotion in her eyes still shocks my soul with the force of it. I look back at Chloe, trying to look as intimidating as possible hoping she would leave. But this bitch slut is either stupid, crazy, or extremely daft, but my money is on all of the above.
“Damion, baby, I need to talk to you.” She takes a trying-to-be-seductive step forward, a cool calculating look in her blue eyes – eyes that look cold and dead in comparison to the lavender irises belonging to the girl still leaning against the door. I give Chloe a cautious agitated smirk, suddenly feeling a little bit underdressed when her eyes move hungrily over my body.
“Talk fast, I have someplace to be,” I can just pray that whatever it is won’t affect the thing between me and Mel again. She walks closer to me with swaying hips and pouting lips, ignoring Mel as if she’s not in the room.
“I want things between us to go back to the way they were.” She crosses her arms over her abundant fake boobs, pushing them up close to bursting from her tight top, and her eyes do not leave my face. Usually, the sight of such sweet melons thrown in my face would at least earn another look, but it’s as if my dick just entered a stage of flabby limpness and I just feel disgusted.
“Chloe, I want nothing to do with you, understand. I’m sure you can easily find another famous person to stalk. ” I don’t want to punch a girl, but I’m officially getting the urge to do just that. I also realized that Chloe for sure has some kind of brain-dead complication.
Then Mel opens her mouth for the first time and Chloe turns her attention to the high-spirited blond pushing herself away from the door.
“Okay, enough is enough … it’s time for you to learn your place.” Her voice is loaded with loads of sarcasm. Chloe’s face turns into a pompous ugly hateful expression but I’m smiling all the way. The eroticism of seeing Mel at war with another girl is a total turn-on and my junk comes back from the dead. I grab the front of the towel to keep it from falling, my hardness pushing against the knot holding it in place, threatening to loosen its grip.
“You know you’re so not his type, right?” Chloe points her finger at my girl, but I just get a wicked grin on my face, knowing she’s saddling up the wrong horse. Mel’s face turns seriously serious and I notice a vein throbbing heavily in her neck. She lifts her chin like a real little warrior, making my towel situation worse.
Chloe tosses her hair back and towers over Mel who’s a lot shorter than the bitch in high-heels. A bewitching grin ghosts over Mel’s face as she drops her head backward to look the melon-bloomer in the eyes, gleaming as if she’s enjoying herself.
“Oh, darling, I don’t give a damn. I’m just using him for his body.” Wow, damn. I’m glad I’m not Chloe all of a sudden. The look on her face suggests that she didn’t expect Mel to say that, surprise is written all over it.
“I’m much prettier than you, bitch. And everybody knows Damion just do brunettes.” Chloe’s comeback sounds pathetic like a throwback from a drunk sailor. I see Mel smiling victoriously. She’s the only one that knows I only fucked brunettes because I wanted to forget her, or rather tried to.
“Well, he just did this blonde, and like they say … when you have had a taste of excellence, you cannot go back to mediocrity.”
“I’m not medo … medi … mediocre,” Chloe struggles with the word while pushing out her lips.
“I’ll give credit where credit is due, but I’m not going to applaud a frog for croaking.” Mel pouts her mouth like she’s going to kiss somebody, crossing her arms, and I adjust my hands clutching the towel.
“He doesn’t love you, he loves me!” Chloe is getting angry and she stumps her foot on the ground, her hands in fists.
“Oh, cry me a river, bitch, and drown in it. Just go while you have a peony amount of dignity left.” She is killing it and the glint in her eyes tells me that she’s enjoying it maybe a little too much. Well, as they say, payback’s a bitch, and it’s raining coins on Chloe right now.
“I hate you!” Chloe shouts, tears forming in her eyes, but bastard that I am, I don’t feel any pity for her.
“You’re welcome to join my hate club, they have a weekly meeting at the corner of fuck-you street and kiss-my-ass boulevard.” Mel’s wit is right on par and she holds the door open for a furious Chloe.
“Bye now. Don’t trip over your own pride on the way out.” Chloe walks past Mel, giving her a scornful death-stare, her voice imperiously thin.
“You’re going to regret this, I’ll make sure of that. And all these snotty remarks are not going to keep him from screwing around.”
“Oh, I know what I say won’t keep him faithful,” I frown, wondering where she’s going with this, but then I smile softly at her next words, “but this heart and mind will!” Cocky little angel.
Mel slams the door close behind Chloe with force and twirls her finger next to her temple, whistling.
“Totally bonkers that one.” She rolls her eyes. “I can actually see now why you two would make a great fit.” She smirks at me, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.
“Oh, no you didn’t just say that.” I let go of the towel and it falls to the ground leaving my pumped-up junk exposed. I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, screaming as she hits my back with her dainty little fists.
“Damion, put me down, you’re going to hurt the … ” I drop her quickly, shaken by the seriousness of her voice, laced with traces of fear. I’m confused. Her eyes are big and she stares at me as if I just found out her deepest secret – anxiety clinging in those deep blues.
Suddenly I’m feeling the same anxiety sweeping through me, the same feelings I felt yesterday when Kiara opened the door for me.
“Hurt what?” She swallows and looks at her feet. She’s fucking hiding something and I’m for sure as hell going to find out what it is.
“Dress, I was just scared that you’re going to mess up the dress.” I frown, not believing that much, but I’ll let it go for now. I wish she would tell me what’s wrong.
“I don’t ever want to hurt you.” Oh boy, Damion you stupid asshole, you know it’s just a matter of time before you’re going to fuck up again – my twisted mind gives me a scorning. I open my mouth to tell her that I never ever want to hurt her but I can’t manage to form the words.
A knock on the door jolts me back to my senses. What the fuck? Is it let-us-bother-Damion-day or something? Maybe Chloe came back for round number 2. I pick up the towel quickly to cover the sight of my naked ass just in time before Dean struts into my house, not bothering to wait for an invitation, and literally throws the door closed, leaving both me and Mel stunned.
“What the fuck, Grimm? Couldn’t keep your dick in your pants and now we’re sitting with a fucking pregnant girl!” Mel turns as white as Olaf from Frozen, and she grabs the wall beside her to keep her from falling over. And there it is … the shoe didn’t just drop, but kicked me in the balls. I try to hide the bewilderment in my voice, my brain running in circles like a fan at full speed.
“What the fuck?” I know for sure I couldn’t make any girl pregnant cause I’ve been fornication-free this whole fucking season – so almost a year. And I always used protection ... well except with Mel. My fanning mind is doing the math, calculating the possibility of the impossible, and end up with the answer towering to highly-unfucking-possible.
Unless it’s Mel. Is it Mel? I look at her holding onto the wall.
“Chloe’s father just called saying you bumped up his daughter. They’re going to the press with it.” He walks up and down, pushing his hands through his hair and kicking a random shoe laying on the ground each time he passes it. I’ve never touched Chloe in my fucking life and never will - that girl’s vagina has more tweets than her Twitter account so not my thing.
Mel is still clinging to the wall in a way that would make Spiderman jealous, a little bit of color returning to her bleached cheeks. Her eyes glazed and I’m starting to worry if she’s having a seizure or something.
“Infuckingpossible,” Dean looks at me as if I’m telling him the sky is pink and pigs can actually fly but I only care about the look of devastation still lingering on my web-slinger’s face.
I explain in pretty graphic detail to my agent that I’ve been sex-free for the whole season, except for Mel, and that I’ve never touched Chloe in any way and that the chance of me becoming a father is less than zero.
“And anyway, I’m not ready to be a dad,” I put an end to the discussion. I’m not ready cause Mel is still too young.