Rewriting Destiny (Forsaken Sinners MC #1) (8 page)

I can feel his hard length pressing into my core and it feels so good I let out a long, dragged-out moan. “Oh, God.” I rock my hips to meet him, which causes his grip in my hair to tighten almost painfully.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good.” He moves his head down and latches his hot mouth on my nipple. His teeth scrape against it with the right amount of pleasure and pain.

His hand slides down my side and inside my panties.
Oh my God, yes, please touch me!
He doesn’t disappoint. I feel the tip of his finger make contact with my clit first, then he starts to slowly rub in small circles. I've never touched myself before, so the feelings his fingers are bringing out in me are overwhelming to say the least, but in a good way.

I start to move my hips in rhythm with his movements, making the sensation triple in strength. Oh shit, this feels so good.

Zane moves his hand further into my panties, then brings the tip of his finger to my entrance. He slowly starts to push inside until I let out a loud moan. Hearing that, Zane starts to pump into me faster, then adds another finger. I feel so full and complete with him inside me, though I wish it were something else instead of his fingers.

Not wanting to be the only one feeling this good, I slip my hands down his pants. I must be bolder with the pleasure flowing through my veins. I start to stroke him, causing him to curse, then pick up speed with his fingers.

“I’m gonna come, Zane. Oh my God, it feels so good, please don’t stop!” He makes a sound that’s a cross between a moan and a growl, and it’s so sexy I think the sound alone makes me come.

As my orgasm starts, he lets go of my nipple and drowns my screams in his mouth. It feels like a live wire is connected to my lower limbs and fireworks are going off behind my eyelids. He slows his thrusting fingers, but doesn’t stop kissing me.

I can’t believe I just had my first orgasm. Not only my first orgasm, but it was given to me by Zane. It's lame, but the only thing that keeps running through my head is that dreams really do come true.

My body goes slack and our kiss slows. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says breathlessly as he pushes hair out of my face. I should probably feel disgusting with my hair soaked with sweat, and embarrassed with his fingers still inside me, but the way he’s looking at me, I don’t even care.

We both catch our breath, and he rolls over to lie down beside me, my hand slipping out of his pants from the movement. My heart rate finally gets back to its normal pace and I turn on my side to look at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see he’s still hard.

“Did you come?” Even though I had my hand wrapped around his cock, I have no idea if he finished or not, I was so caught up in my own pleasure.

He softly chuckles and shakes his head. “Unbelievably, no. I thought you were going to unman me there for a minute, though.”

I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. “I’m sorry?” I roll onto my back and close my eyes. It’s embarrassing enough that I had my first orgasm when we didn’t even have all of our clothes off, but to add insult to injury, he didn’t even come. Was it not good enough? Was
I
not good enough?

He interrupts my inner battle with myself by turning onto his side and gently caresses my face. “Hey. What’s the matter?”

What do I say? This is so new to me, but it feels wrong that I got off and he didn’t. Don’t guys get pissed if they don’t get their rocks off too? I’m not sure how this is supposed to work; it’s so frustrating. I want to lie in my afterglow and share it with him, not worry that I did something wrong. “What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?”

I look into his eyes and see they don’t look upset. “Did I do something wrong? I mean…for you not to, uh, for you not t-to get off?”

He looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. “Are you kidding me? It felt so fucking good I was worried I was going to come in my pants.”

I still don’t get it. “So why didn’t you? Didn’t you want to come?”

I try to keep my eyes on him, but I’m too embarrassed. He doesn’t let me stop, though. “Look at me, Danielle. Yes, I wanted to come, but I wanted to watch you lose control more. It was the sexiest thing I have ever seen, so I wasn't even thinking about myself.”

I consider what he said, and then come up with a plan.

I sit up and put my hands on his shoulders to push him back onto the bed. He opens his mouth to say something, probably to ask what the hell I’m doing, but I put my finger to his lips, silencing him. “Shhh…I want to do this for you.” I don’t let him answer; I just kiss him, then work my way past his collarbone, spend a little time playing with his nipple, then kiss down toward his stomach.

“Danielle…”

I start to unbutton his pants. He must be too stunned to speak, because before he can even get words out, I have his cock out of his pants and in my hand.

His head drops back as I start to stroke him again. I take the time while he isn’t paying attention to me to get a good look at what he’s been hiding in his pants. I’ve never seen a guy’s penis before, but Zane’s could be a work of art. I almost want to get my drawing pad out and capture it on paper, it’s so gorgeous.

I'm not really sure what I should be doing; I just keep stroking him, long and hard. If the grunts and his heavy breathing mean anything, I think I’m going a pretty good job. But I want to make him lose control, like he made me.

I glance up and notice he still has his eyes closed, so I use that to my advantage and lower my mouth to his cock. There’s a drop of moisture at his tip, so I run my tongue along the top to see what he tastes like, taking him by surprise.

“Oh fuck!”

Now I have his full attention. His eyes are no longer closed, but staring heavily at me. Holding his stare, I run my tongue around the top of his cock, then take him fully into my mouth. He hisses, and I’m not sure if it’s in pain, so I pull up to make sure he’s okay.

“Oh God, don’t stop. Fuck, please don’t stop.”

Loving how I’ve reduced him to begging, I enthusiastically take him back into my mouth, but he’s so big, I have to adjust. When I have him all the way in the back of my throat, I thank God I don’t have much of a gag reflex, because that wouldn’t be sexy at all.

“Oh fuck yeah, baby.”

Hearing that he likes it makes me get more creative. I've never given a blowjob before, but I've read enough books that I should be able to make it good for him. I reach down and massage his balls and start to work my mouth in a twisting motion while hollowing out my checks to get better suction.

He tangles his hands in my hair. “Shit, Danielle that feels so fucking good.”

I speed my pace up a bit and bring my other hand around to work the bottom of his shaft, adding a couple turns to my strokes. He grips my hair harder and starts pumping his hips. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

He goes to pull away, but I really want to taste him, so instead I suck him harder. I remove my hand and take him as deep as I can.

“Fuck, baby, you need to stop or I’m going to come in your mouth.”

I push him all the way to the back of my throat and try to swallow him whole.

“Fuuucccckkkk!” he shouts softly. I feel warm, salty liquid hit the back of my throat, so I swallow again, which makes him growl. “Shit! Fuck, Danielle!”

A couple more spurts hit the back of my throat before I feel him soften in my mouth. I lick him clean, then sit back and look up to see he’s got his arm over his eyes and is breathing heavily. Not bad for my first blow job, I think. I crawl up beside him and cuddle into his side.

“Holy shit, where did you learn to do that? Wait, don’t answer.”

I don’t really want to tell him it was my first time, but the way it sounds, it may ease his thoughts. “I’ve never done it before,” I say quietly, still a little embarrassed, but happy that he seemed to have enjoyed it so much.

We don’t say anything for a while. We only lie there, side by side. I yawn and snuggle closer to him.

“Go to sleep, Baby Girl.”

I want to stay up and spend this moment with him, but I can barely keep my eyes open. Before I drift off to sleep, I hear him say, “I love you, but I can’t lose you.” I fall asleep before I can decide whether I heard him right or if it was just my imagination.

Chapter 9

I wake up lying on my stomach with the sun warming my back and the covers tangled around my feet. I reach my hand out behind me, but feel nothing but cold sheets. My head snaps up, seeing nothing but an empty bed where Zane was only a few hours ago. I look around my room and over toward my bathroom door, thinking maybe he’s taking a shower, but the door is open and the light is off. Where is he? Would he have gone downstairs?

I sit up and grab my phone when I see a note lying underneath it. I pick both up, check the time quickly and see it is a little after noon, and then open the letter.

Danielle,

I don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry. Last night shouldn’t have happened. You are my best friend, and I have no excuse for what came over me. I hope you don’t hate me and that what happened doesn’t ruin our friendship. I had to head back to school, but I’ll call you later. I’m sorry…

Zane

He regrets what happened last night. What I thought was a turning point for us was nothing but a mistake for him. Tears slip down my face, but I don’t even care enough to lift my hand to wipe them away. I can’t believe that what we shared meant so little to him. I thought watching him leave again would hurt, but my heart feels like it’s broken into a million pieces and someone set fire the remains. I should have known better than to think that my dreams were coming true, that destiny was finally going to make up for the shit life has thrown me.

I don’t know how I’m going to get over this. It was hard enough being around him when I knew I had feelings for him, but now actually getting a taste of what I so badly wanted and having it taken away, I feel like I’m dying inside. No, death would be too easy; I’m being tortured.

I fall back onto my bed and push the letter under my pillow. I want to keep it as a reminder to myself that he’ll never want me. Last night was a mistake. Our emotions got the best of us and one thing lead to another. No matter what I feel for him, he will never feel the same way. I don’t know how I am going to act like nothing happened; I’ll have to pull my big girl panties on and get over it. Or at least pretend I’m okay until I’m behind closed doors. That should be easy enough considering I have done a lot of pretending in my life. It's either that or the alternative, not having him in my life at all, and I'm not sure I can handle that.

***

When I got back to school after Thanksgiving break, I pulled Gunnar aside and told him it wasn’t working between us. I never mentioned I found out about him and Sophie and he didn’t say anything either. I think deep down he knew this was coming regardless of what happened between them. He didn’t argue with me or even ask me to reconsider, he just said that he understood and hoped we could still be friends. What is it with guys and saying “Let’s still be friends?” Regardless, I told him I’d really like that and left it. I didn’t want to get into an argument or go into detail with him; I only wanted to move on with my day and get through the rest of the school year.

I didn’t go to any more parties, and I barely left my room. Gram kept asking if I was all right, but finally gave up when I would say I was fine. She knew there was something wrong, but figured I would talk about it when I was ready. I never wanted to talk about what happened between me and Zane, though. I was stuck between wanting to forget it ever happened and wanting to relive those few moments over and over again when he was mine.

It took us a while to get back to even a fraction of the friendship we had before, but we’re slowly getting there. It will never be the same, but I’ve found that I’m becoming even better at pretending. We never talked about that night, just left it in the past. He’s only been back once since then, at Christmas, and let’s say that we brought a whole new meaning to the word awkward.

As much as I miss the way we used to be, I don’t think I could go back to that even if I tried. Knowing what could have been and remembering the way he tasted makes that hard, but at least I still have him in my life and that’s all that matters in the end.

Today’s the last day of school and Gunnar has been asking if I’ll come to his graduation party. It took us a while, but we have come to be good friends. I don’t really want to go to the party, but since I’ve grown close to both him and Jaxon, I feel like I need to.

Jaxon got a full football scholarship at the University of California and Gunnar got a full baseball scholarship to the University of Florida. He’s excited to go back to his hometown and play the sport he loves. I think he may actually go pro, he’s that good. I’m proud of both of them, and decide to go to the party and have a good time, even if it kills me.

***

By the time I make it out to the lake, the party is in full swing. I’m wearing a pair of holey jeans and what has become my signature black tank top and black combat boots. Since the last party I went to, the night before Thanksgiving, I’ve found I’ve been wearing a lot of black. I guess it fits my mood better than anything else.

Jaxon and Gunnar stop me immediately, one with a red Solo cup filled with beer and the other with a bottle of Jack. Yup, these boys know how I like it.

“Hey, Cupcake. It’s about time you got here. Now the party can really begin!” Jaxon says as he pulls me into a hug. He’s taken to calling me Cupcake lately, and though it’s a little weird, I don’t mind it.

Once he lets me go, Gunnar pulls me in for a hug.

“Yeah, sorry I’m late.” I wanted to make sure my grandmother was in bed before leaving. She has been getting worse lately, but still refuses to go to the doctor. But if she isn’t better by next week, I’ll drag her there if I have to. I hate feeling like I’m slowly losing her and there is nothing I can do.

We sit by the fire, passing around the bottle of Jack and sipping our beers. We talk about stupid, unimportant shit, not wanting to talk about anything of significance. I’m not in the mood to talk, so I let them do most of the talking. They don’t push me and don’t seem to mind my lack of keeping up my part of the conversation. I’m letting them do most of the talking anyway, not in the mood to keep up with my part of the conversation. Eventually they start talking about how excited they are to go to college and I space off, not wanting to think about them leaving soon.

After about an hour of sitting and drinking, Sophie comes over and plops herself down on Gunnar’s lap. They started dating about a month after we broke up. I’m really happy for him; they seem to make a great couple. Though Sophie is going to school in New York, they want to try and make things work. I honestly do wish them the best and hope it works.

Mary, Sophie’s friend, walks up behind Jaxon and starts to rub his shoulders. Not sure what the deal is with those two, but they seem to always be hot and cold. One week they are all over each other, and the next they want nothing to do with each other. Unfortunately, tonight is a night that the former option is true. Not wanting to be the fifth wheel and witness such gross public displays of affection, I get up and head over to the keg for a refill. Once my cup is full, I turn around to survey the party. There are a lot of people here, but they all seem to be coupled up. I don’t want to spend the night watching people practically fuck in front of me, so I down my beer and decide to call it a night and go home.

I walk over to Gunnar and Jaxon and tell them goodnight. They are a little upset, but once I tell them I’m heading home to make sure Gram is okay, they let me pass. It also helps that Sophie and Mary are both distracting them with lap dances. Yup, it’s time to head home.

Once I walk in the door, I make my way to my grandmother’s room to check in on her, then head up to my room. I change into my pajamas and slip into bed. As I’m staring up at the ceiling, my phone pings.

Zane: Hey, Baby Girl, how was your last day of school?

Me: Same shit, different day. You coming home for the summer at all?

I know he won’t, because it seems he never has the time to make it home anymore, but I can’t help but ask. Hope can sometimes be a bitch. Plus, I figure if I get a heads up, I can make sure my walls are up.

Zane: I may be home here and there, but have a lot going on here. I’ll let you know as soon as I know more.

Me: All right. I’m going to bed, talk later.

Zane: Okay, Baby Girl, sleep good.

I hate that one night has seemed to ruin everything we built over the years. I wonder if we will ever be the same again.

That night, I dream of the days when Zeke was still alive and all the fun the three of us had. It’s the first dream that I’ve had of him that I haven’t woken up from screaming. I wish I had more dreams like this. As much as I miss Zeke, I think I miss Zane more, which is crazy considering the difference between the two; Zeke can never come back and Zane chooses not to. There’s something about missing someone even though they are right there with you that makes it worse.

***

Five Months Later

It’s the last day before Thanksgiving break of my senior year of high school. I’ve applied to and been accepted to a bunch of schools, but I’m going to go to the community college here in town. Gram has only gotten worse over the months, and the doctors haven’t been able to tell her what is wrong, so I've decided to stay close so I can take care of her. It’s the least I can do after all she has done for me, plus, it will help me out too. I won’t have to stay in the dorms or find an apartment that is close.

After school, I stop at the grocery store to grab some last-minute items for our dinner tomorrow and then head home. I put everything away and start making the pies. Once I get those in the oven, I make grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for supper and bring a bowl to Gram’s room. She’s been spending the majority of her time in bed, but will sometimes come out and sit in the living room. I wish there was something I could do for her; I hate seeing her like this. Her skin has become pale and since she doesn’t eat much anymore, her face seems almost sunken in. Every time I look at her I want to cry.

I clean up the pie and supper mess, then head upstairs to take a nice long bath. I want to go to bed early tonight. As I pass my desk, I see my sketch pad. I haven’t had much inspiration to draw lately, which makes me even sadder. Drawing has always been my escape, my passion. And lately, I really need an escape, so I pick it up and carry it over to my bed. I lie down, open to a fresh page, and can only stare at it. I have no idea what to draw.

After staring at the paper for over ten minutes with no ideas, I start to doodle instead. I hate doodling, and only do it when I'm in class, but I think that's all I’m going to get out tonight. Oh well, there is always tomorrow for inspiration to hit me.

I put my supplies away a little while later, crawl into bed, and think about the last year. Things have changed so much that I barely even recognize myself. Last year around this time, I was heading to a party, not knowing that the next day my world would come crashing down around me. I wish I could go back and change what happened. As much as I don’t want to, I would, knowing that it inevitably caused me to lose Zane. I would have never turned my phone off so he wouldn’t have worried about me and driven all the way here for one night full of regrets. I’d rather not know what it felt like to be in his arms and his lips on mine than know what it was like and then be crushed even more when I lost it all. That’s the last thought I have before I drift into a dreamless sleep.

***

April 5—My Eighteenth Birthday

I wake up a little earlier than usual, get in the shower, and decide to take a little extra time on my appearance. I haven’t gotten dressed up or given much thought to my looks for a while. I mean, what’s the point? I don’t have a boyfriend, Zane is no longer around, and I don’t really care what anyone else thinks. But since it is my eighteenth birthday, I want to go the extra mile. Maybe if I look better, I will feel better.

I shave my legs and wash my hair, then grab my towel and get started on my long locks. It’s going to take me at least a half an hour to blow dry it. Then I want to curl it to give it some texture before putting it in a ponytail.

With my hair dry, I turn on the curling iron and walk into the closet to pick out my outfit. I'm not sure if I should go with my new favorite style of the darker, edgier look, or if I want to soften it up and wear a dress. I decide to stick to my new look because it makes me feel better about myself, so I grab a pair of skinny jeans with a couple holes in them and a white tank top. I pair it with the new leather jacket I bought last week with the money my grandmother gave me for my birthday. Now I just need to decide whether I want to wear my combat boots or heels. Since I’m going to do my hair and makeup extra special, I decide to wear my black heels.

I walk back into the bathroom to curl my hair and put on my makeup. I still want to keep it on the darker side, but not as edgy as I have been doing. I do a dark smoky eye shadow, line my eyes with eyeliner, use a generous amount of mascara, and put on red lipstick to make everything pop. I take one more look in the mirror before I put on my heels, grab my book bag off my desk, and head downstairs.