Caught in the Devil's Sheets (35 page)

Odin stands up behind me, letting go of the vibrator and leaving it inside me. He leans over me, and his erection presses between my legs. He uses his hand to maneuver himself around the vibrator, then his cock pushes into my sex. His pelvis pushes the vibrator further inside me as he thrusts himself in deeper. It’s the most intensely strange, yet amazing feeling I have ever experienced. I gasp as he pushes into me again, harder this time. The metal cuffs bite at my wrists. Odin’s hips flex into me, each time pushing a little harder than the last. I hear him grunting as he gains pleasure from my body. Knowing that I satisfy him makes me feel hot, needy, and powerful.

He begins to move faster, and both his erection and the vibrator sink into me, filling me in the most intoxicating way. Odin’s promise is kept. It hurts as he collides with the innermost depths of me. Still, deep-seated pleasure mixed with wild desire is what I feel the most. My muscles again begin to bear down on him, pulling him into me and begging him for more. Odin takes my braids in his hands, pulling them backwards and lifting my head off the table. I cannot support myself with my hands cuffed behind my back, and I feel my nipples graze along the table under my lingerie. My hair pulls at its roots, as Odin uses it as leverage to heave himself into me. My back is arched backward, and I pant and moan loudly. It’s pain, it’s pleasure, it’s harsh. I feel him stiffen inside me, and he’s panting behind me, pulling hard at my hair. I shut my eyes, and beg him to find his release in me.

My hips bang against the side of the table and my head is curved backwards. My body spirals deeper into a long, drawn out orgasm. My breasts bounce against the table as Odin powers into me from behind. My neck curves back as he pulls hard at my braids and I hear him growl behind me as he pours himself into me. His body stiffens, his cock and the vibrator both deep inside me as my body convulses around him. My knees go weak and I lay my weight against the table once more.

Odin slowly pulls out of me, taking the vibrator with him. I shudder at the sensation. I lay flat on the table, watching his back as he saunters into his bathroom for a moment. Then he returns, looking refreshed and perfect as usual. His hair falls in messy tendrils over his face. He stands next to me, gazing down at me. Bashfully, I smile up at him. He un-cuffs my wrists, setting my arms free. Then he kneels at the table and frees my ankles, rubbing them where the metal cuffs have left bright red markings.

“I believe I owe you a date,” he says, looking up at me from the floor. I had completely forgotten.

“What’d you have in mind?” I ask, rubbing my wrists as he stands.

“Are you hungry?”

“Not terribly, I could go for coffee,” I suggest, my body too satisfied for food.

“Get dressed, I’ll take you out for coffee.”

Odin leans down and plants a kiss on my lips. I all but melt as he does and I wonder if he has any idea what power he has over me. I suspect he does, though I suppose that is his goal, to win power over me this way. He turns me loose and I head back downstairs to where I left my backpack lying on the dining room floor. I decide on jeans and a black camisole and stuff my red dress back into my bag. My heels don’t totally match but I decide to wear them anyways. Odin meets me downstairs, dressed in a fresh set of jeans, a gray t-shirt, and his Devil’s Bandits cut with the sleeves torn off. He is the sexiest thing to ever cross my path, with his grungy biker clothes on top his perfectly sculpted body, gleaming at me with the world’s most dazzling smile.

“Wanna take the bike?” he asks.

“Sure.” I love riding on the back of a bike.

Odin holds the front door open for me and I wait on the porch while he pulls a dual seat Chopper out of the garage. He hands me a black helmet that I stuff all my hair into before tugging it on my head. I hoist one leg over the back of the bike and climb on behind him. I wrap my arms around Odin’s waist and hold tight as he pulls out of the driveway and heads for downtown Main Street. The mid-June air is warm and the breeze is minimal as we make our way slowly through the crowded street. We get lots of stares as the Chopper’s engine revs. Odin parks in the designated motorcycle parking just outside Zoey’s Café. There is a live band outside playing soul music and a lovely short-haired girl singing about sweet summer romance as we head inside. Odin holds the door open for me and we stand in line at the coffee bar.

Odin politely orders for me then leads the way outside so we can listen to the music from a secluded corner of the patio. We listen to the band play and sip our coffee. The singer has a very lovely voice and she begins a song about her mother that’s very touching.

“What happened to your mom exactly?” I ask in a brief moment of bravery.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you have a theory?”

“My dad seemed to think she took off with some other man.” Odin is passive about our discussion. He’s not exactly forthcoming with information, but at least I have him talking.

“What do you think?” I reach a hand under the table and stroke his knee through his jeans.

“The same thing everyone else thinks. My mom loved me and she knew my father was an abusive drunk. If she was going to leave, she’d have taken me with her,” he says certainly.

He doesn’t seem too upset, which surprises me. Maybe enough time has passed that he’s grown numb to it. I grew numb to a lot of aspects of my past.

“Was your father a murderer?” I ask point blank, gripping my mug in my palm.

“Accused but never convicted.”

I have a feeling Odin knows a lot more then he’s letting on. He stares into me with a gaze that’s almost daring. He’s sitting close and he reaches his hand up to my neck, gently grazing my skin with his thumb.

“The club doesn’t kill anyone without some form of viable proof,” I say.

This was common knowledge. If someone was going to accuse anyone of anything in this club, they’d better have ample proof. As far as the club was concerned, a man was innocent unless there was proof.

Odin doesn’t say anything and his gaze grows dark. I know I shouldn’t push any further, but I am so close!

“Whatever your dad did Odin, it’s not your fault. You know that don’t you?” I try to comfort him, but his hollow eyes stare back at me blankly.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about Lila, and you wouldn’t understand. Either way, it doesn’t concern you.” His voice is calm, but I can tell his emotions have been stirred.

“You’re right, I have no idea. I might not understand, but then again I might understand perfectly. In any case it does concern me. You want my trust, but you won’t tell me anything.”

“It’s in the past, I don’t want to get into it,” he says, finishing off his coffee.

I let there be silence. Billy is really the only thing from my past that bears any significance on my present. An idea sparks.

“How does my relationship with Billy make you feel?” I ask, knowing that I’m playing with fire.

Odin looks at me surprised, and I can smell envy on him.

“Angry,” he admits without hesitation. “In fact you could say I’d prefer if you would cut him out.”

I think he knows I could never do that. “If you understood how I felt about him, you might not be so angry.” I say taking another sip from my mug.

Odin’s hand falls back to his lap, where he laces his fingers with mine on his leg. “I doubt that. Why don’t you tell me exactly how you
feel
about him.”

Odin’s voice has gone from hollow, to angry. I see his possessiveness more clearly than ever.

“I will if you tell me about Katelyn. Why did you name your boat after her?”

Odin stares at me darkly, knowing full well that he’s fallen for my trap. Then he stares down at the table, and for the first time looks less than collected.

“She was different,” he says, his eyes glazing over.

“Why?”

“Because I knew her!” he says and his eyes dart up to mine.

I’m shocked at his answer, but even more so at the horrid look in his eyes.
What does that mean?

His eyes dart around a moment, like he’s just revealed some big secret, and I think I might even sense fear. Odin stands up from his chair and pushes it in. The band is just finishing up, and he holds his hand out to me. “Come,” he says, anxious to leace.

I take his hand and allow him to lead me out the side gate to the street. We ride back to his house on his motorcycle and I’m nervous about the way we left our conversation. I want so badly to know what Odin knows. Whatever it is, I know he harbors guilt and I wish I could make him see that we are not responsible for the actions of our parents. I used to think something was wrong with me and that’s why my parents didn’t care. Somewhere around 20, with the help of Dr. Burkhart, I realized it’s them, not me. I wish I could give Odin that same peace of mind.

He pulls into the garage and I step off the bike. He opens the door for me to go inside the house, and he is too quiet. We step into the kitchen and Odin is careful not to look me in the eyes. It tortures me seeing him like this. I take his hand, begging for his attention, and he looks at me with sad eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Odin takes my head in his palm and presses his lips into mine. His emotion pours out from his lips and seeps into mine. His hands caress my entire body and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into me. His hands press at my back and he pulls himself away for a moment, gazing down at me.

“Do you still love Billy?” he asks, his eyes staring through to my soul.

“No. Not anymore.” To even my surprise, for the first in my life I believe these words as I whisper them.

Odin lifts me off the floor and I wrap my legs around his waist. His lips lay into mine and he carries me toward the stairs. I have never been a light weight and I feel all the muscles in his chest engage as he hoists me up the stairs to his bedroom. He lays me down on the bed, and in the dark I can see him gazing down at me. I reach my hand up to the side of his face and stroke my thumb across the stubble of his cheek.

“Why are you so ridden with guilt? What did you do?” I whisper

“I was forced to take part in a lot of really fucked up shit, Lila. And I don’t want to talk about it, so please stop asking.”

It’s so unlike Odin to even use the word please. It touches my heart, and pains me. I don’t even want to imagine what things he is talking about.

“If you were forced, then it’s not your fault.” I whisk his hair back away from his face.

Odin is leaning over me, his hands on either side of my face. “That’s not the worst part of it. If I tell you why I’m guilty, I’ll have no option but to sit back and watch you leave.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m willing to handle a lot. I don’t just bail. And if it’s really that bad, then I think I deserve to know, before we go any further.”

Odin closes his eyes a moment. He looks pained. He knows I’m right but he’s afraid to tell me. Afraid I’ll leave.

“I’ve never told anyone this before. I’m shocked that I’m contemplating telling you right now.”

I have him so close to a breakthrough. I realize that whatever he tells me, I can’t make him regret it. I can’t leave, I have to deal with it. He stares down at me, as if he’s debating whether or not I can handle whatever it is he wants to admit.

“You can tell me anything, just like I can tell you anything.”

Odin lies on his side next to me, exhaling loudly. He runs his fingers up my shirt and traces them over my bare chest.

“The things my father did, disgusted me. I hate him, and I don’t want to be anything like him. But as much as I despised the things he made me watch, sometimes it turned me on. It’s sickening, I’m sickening. I know how fucked up it is, but I couldn’t help it. That’s why I like all of this. Whatever dark, disgusting mental illness my dad had that made him enjoy torturing those girls, I have it too.” Odin is on the edge, fearing that this is where I’ll tell him I think he’s a freak and go running scared. It is fucked up, but it doesn’t make him like his father.

I wrap my arms around him, and try to comfort him. “Odin, lots of men are into BDSM. It doesn’t make you like your father. You’ve never kidnapped a girl and tortured her against her will have you?” I’m relieved that he shakes his head no.

“But it made me hard, Lila!”

I can feel his tears on my chest, and I hold him close to my heart. Odin clings to me and it’s such a shock! In this moment I am the strong one. I hate seeing him this way and I just want to be able to comfort him, the way he does for me.

“So what? Some people masturbate while watching horror movies! It doesn’t make you a bad person! It definitely doesn’t make you your father!”

“As much as I hate him, I’m just like him! I get off on hurting people! I can’t fight the urge to want to see pain!”

I don’t know what to say. He’s wrong, but I don’t know what I can do to make him believe me. I look up at his wall of whips and toys and an idea forms in my mind. I kiss him on the top of his head and release him. He eyes me carefully, as I make my way off the bed. For a minute he thinks I’m leaving and he looks scared. I push his black chest up against the wall of toys.

“What are you doing?” he asks, as I stand on the chest. I reach up and pull down a long bull whip from the wall. I hold it out to him.

“Whip me!” I tell him.

“What?” Odin’s expression is excited and confused, and still lightly stained with tears.

“Whip me!” I say throwing the whip down on the bed in front of him.

“Delilah, you don’t want me to get star—”

I cut him off. “I’m going to prove to you that this doesn’t make you a bad person. You may enjoy pain, but when you see me cry, and you know how bad it hurts, you’ll stop. I know you will. It might make you hard, but you will want to stop, I promise you.” I take off my shirt and toss it on the floor. Then I stand in my jeans and bare feet and take hold of the bedpost, pulling my hair around my shoulder.

“Are you sure?” he asks, taking the whip in his hand and moving toward the edge of the bed.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t!” I assure him, then I lower my gaze to the floor and ready myself for the inevitable pain that will follow.