Sins of September (10 page)

I’ve cancelled my plans for tonight. I feel like I need to stay home with Jesse. Clearly, he’s shook up; I’ve never seen him pound down the beers like he’s doing this evening. He’s sucked down eight by my last count.

I drop Scout at Amber’s house and check with Mrs. Lawson to see what time I should pick her up the following day. She says mid-afternoon is fine.

Back home, I pop a frozen pizza in the oven for Jesse and me.

I grab a soda and join him in the living room with the baked pizza.

“Ah, good girl. How’d you know I love pizza with my beer?” he asks, cracking a smile.

“Lucky guess.”

“Hey, didn’t you have plans tonight?” he asks, taking a bite of pizza.

“I did but I changed them.”

“Why’s that?”

I feel his gaze on me and I’m not sure how to answer. I have my reasons. I just don’t want to share them with him at the moment.

“I dunno. Thought maybe you needed some company after, you know, getting the news today.”

He finishes off his beer. “Hey, wanna grab me another cold one?”

“Sure.”

When I set his fresh beer down on the coffee table, he’s watching me. “I didn’t mean to upset your plans for this evening. I’m fine, September. Don’t need a babysitter.”

I turn and give him a glare. “Could’ve fooled me I guess.”

His hand stops with the bottle of beer in mid-air. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I flop back against the sofa cushions and lean my head back. “I just don’t know how I should feel about this. I mean, it’s like I’m
affected
too, Jesse, but I can’t think about
my
feelings because I’ve got to make sure that you’re okay, I mean, do you even get that?”

He slams his beer down onto the table, and turns to face me with blue eyes blazing. I’ve managed to piss him off.

And I don’t give a shit.

“No, I guess I don’t fucking get it. You might’ve turned eighteen, but I’m still the adult here. If I wanna sit in my own house and get fucking hammered for once, then by God I will do just that! I don’t need a teenager watching over me. She’s my
wife
, goddamit!

“And she’s my
mother
!” I scream. “And she fucking left the
both
of us! Remember?”

“Hell yes I remember.”

“Then why—
why
are you so
fucked
up over this? I mean, do you
hope
she’s alive? Will you try and find her? What then? If you find her will you
beg
her to come back? Will you forgive her everything?”

I’m on a roll now but every word that I’m spewing is the absolute truth for once. No games. No pretenses. I want to know how he feels.

He takes a moment to calm himself because I’ve hit a couple of nerves. “Maybe I will,” he replies. “God knows I loved her. She was the first woman, hell—she’s the
only
woman that I’ve ever loved. I gave her everything—every
fucking
thing including my heart, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t . . .
enough
.”

He shrugs; a look of total defeat washes over him.

“So that’s it? What? I mean are you gonna go through the rest of your life holding onto something—to someone—whether she’s dead or alive, that makes you feel the way you feel right this damn minute?”

I look into his eyes because I want to hear it from him. I want to know why he feels the need to punish himself for what
she
did.

He takes another sip of his beer, and shrugs. “Shit, maybe so. Maybe it’s what I deserve for not being enough, and not letting her be enough for herself.”

I have no clue as to what he means by that. I simply throw out a retort for good measure. “That’s weak,” I mumble. “Pathetic and weak.”

I start to get off the couch so that I can get away from his drunken ass. I can take almost anything except self-pity or self-loathing. I’ve no tolerance for it.

His hand clamps around my wrist and I’m jerked back around to face him as he stands, pulling me up against him roughly. “What did you say?” he growls.

“I-I think you’re acting weak,” I mumble, losing a bit of my courage.

He cocks a brow as he studies me intently. “What would you know about
love
—or life or any of it?”

“Maybe more than you think,” I reply softly, looking up at his beautiful, angry face, meeting his cool gaze with one of my own. Our conflicted eyes lock, and when they do, something passes between us; like a spark or something, and all I can think is that it’s about damn time.

He pulls me closer. I wrap my arms around his strong neck, and tilt my face back a bit to give him ample access because this will happen. I’ve decided that.

He captures my mouth with his roughly—almost savagely, but I don’t care. “Fuck you look so much like
her
,” he growls, “I need to see if you taste like her too.”

“Do it,” I dare.

His tongue ravages my lips, parting them and swirling against mine, his teeth nip at my lower lip, tugging and pulling until I moan softly. His hands are cupping my face so that I can’t move away—not that I would ever want to. Being locked against him in this frenzied and passionate embrace is my own self-proclaimed heaven.

I mold myself to him provocatively, grinding my pelvis against his crotch. He moans, but he doesn’t stop and I’m so fucking worried that he will. That he’ll take a moment to calm his senses and push me away. I feel his hardness against me and I want more than anything else to know what he feels like inside of me. I want to feel the cock that I watched thrusting in and out of Casey when he was taking her from behind; the same cock that used to make my mother mewl like some sort of pleasured animal within the confines of their bedroom.

I want that cock inside of me. I want him doing all of those delicious and forbidden things, only doing them to
me
this time.

He breaks the kiss, but it’s only so that he can pull his white tee up and over his head, tossing it to the floor. My eyes are fixed on the firm, hard expanse of his well-muscled chest and shoulders as they flex with every movement.

He moves to me and I instinctively raise my arms up so that he can relieve me of my top. I hadn’t bothered with a bra so my breasts are bare and he’s perusing them appreciatively. With his gaze lingering on every inch of my heaving breasts, I watch, totally mesmerized as his hands make their way to the under-swell of my tits.

Cupping them almost possessively, he runs his thumbs across my erect nipples, groaning in the process, showing his appreciation. I’ve never felt anything so exciting in my life!

I melt into him and the next thing I’m aware of is that I’m in his arms and he’s placing me gently on the cold, hardwood kitchen table. I’m thinking ‘why here?’—but I don’t give a damn if he wants to claim me on top of the toilet tank, he is finally going to love me and make me his.

His breathing is heavy and his intent is clear and his loss of control is like a fucking aphrodisiac making me willing to do anything and everything he wants. Spreading my legs invitingly, I silently give him permission to take this to the next level. I can clearly see in his bright, glazed over eyes that he wants me. Only me. I can feel his need, branding me like a hot iron, making its mark—his mark. His claim.

Leaning back on my arms, my gaze never wavers from his gorgeous face as I lift my hips, my body language begging for him to relieve me of my jeans.

That simple gesture is all it takes for him to shed his last ounce of resistance, as his tongue washes over his bottom lip, and he quickly and expertly makes history of the rest of my clothes.

I sit completely naked before him, panting like I’d just run a marathon. Placing both of his large, calloused hands on either side of my thighs, Jesse drops to his knees and begins feasting on my pussy like a starved man.

This is a first for me. And I push the thought that it’s my stepfather who is introducing me to cunnilingus for the first time from my mind.

I feel the hitch in my breath at the first contact of his mouth on my clit, rolling it with his tongue and sucking it tightly between his lips.

Fuck!

I moan; he groans.

Our eyes meet before he leans back for just a fraction of a second, licking my wetness from his swollen lips. “You taste even better than her.”

And that makes me happier than I ever thought possible.

Biting on my bottom lip and staring at him through my hooded eyes, I push my hips upward towards him mouth, wanting him to continue, begging him to help me get to that release that I know only he can give me. Jesse is eating my pussy and at eighteen, I already know without a doubt, that he’s fucking spoiled me for anyone else.

Ever.

“God, Jesse . . . please don’t stop!” I can barely recognize my own voice and I realize that he alone has made me a woman this night. He alone has wrecked me for any other male on this earth. It’s primal and it’s meant to be because the chemistry is just that epic.

My words clearly set off some sort of primal need buried deeply inside of him. Maybe he feels the same connection I’m feeling. Our chemistry boils through our veins as if it’s been there for generations; existing in previous generations, other cultures from long ago and in former couplings of perfect mates. That is us. This is ours.

He reaches down and lifts my legs up and around, hooking them around his neck and burying his mouth once again over my drenched pussy.

Holy shit!

Letting my head fall back on the table, I groan when I feel the thump against the hard surface. Between the heavenly feeling between my legs, the sound of our lust echoing off the walls and the scent of our combined sexual tension enveloping us in our own private cocoon, I can feel myself drifting into another sphere.

That’s when I feel his thick finger slide inside of me as his tongue circles my clit, making me scream from surprise and from pleasure. The wet, slick sounds coming from my pussy should be embarrassing me because I’m just not sure if that’s normal, but any concern is quickly being replaced with pure arousal and mounting pleasure.

Something is happening. Something that sure as hell didn’t happen with Austin, and something that is way stronger than when I bring myself to orgasm thrumming my clit.

Way stronger.

Way deeper.

“Oh my God,” I shriek. “Jesse—what’s . . . fuck, what’s happening?” My breathing is coming much quicker, just like my heartbeats.

“It’s all good, September,” he croons “Let it come, baby.”

Snaking his free hand under my ass, Jesse pushes his finger deeper inside of me and then turns it, thrusting so deeply I swear I can feel him hitting my womb!

Then, it’s like he’s somehow hit the detonator of some massive orgasm that I didn’t know existed—and maybe it
doesn’t
exist for anyone else but us, but I can’t help but scream his name as powerful waves of pleasure explode, one right after the other, penetrating every nerve ending, muscle and cell of my body.

Trembling, I feel his finger sliding out of me as his tongue is thoroughly lapping up every drop of this liquid release of mine. Spasms are still rocking my body as I slowly come down from the most beautiful and mind-fucking-boggling experience of my life.

Jesse doesn’t stop. His mouth is lingering over my skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps as he peppers open-mouthed kisses up the length of my stomach.

“Oh, Jesse . . .” I can’t help the breathy quality of my voice, feeling as though every one of my dreams have come true.

Through the hazy fuck-fog of my rattled brain, I hear the distinct sound of his zipper sliding down as his mouth re-visits my breasts, his tongue circling one nipple and then moving to the other. His teeth nipping and pulling until he suckles my left breast, nursing it like it belongs to him and only him.

“Baby,” he rasps, his hand now gripping his huge erection that has sprung free of his jeans. “Tell me the truth—you’ve done this before, yeah?”

I nod, my voice is thick with need as I answer him, “Yes, Jesse.”

He doesn’t need the humiliating details.
Yes, Jesse. I have done this but only once, and unfortunately it was done by a needle-dick that lasted all of thirty seconds once he desecrated my hymen.

“I need a condom,” he says, and I can’t bear for him to pause because if he does, he may not be back and I will see this to its end.

“No,” I say getting my voice back. “I took the birth control shot. I’ve only been with one guy ever and he used a condom only because the shot hadn’t taken effect yet.”

I lie because there’s no way in hell that this is not going to happen right now between us. Hell, I’d gladly have as many babies as he saw fit to give me, because he’s mine.

“That the truth?” he asks, jacking his dick.

“Yes.”

“Because I can’t get you pregnant, baby,” he replies, shaking his head. “That wouldn’t do at all.”

“You won’t. I promise.”

“Fuck, I want to be inside of you. Tell me you want this. Beg me, September.” His voice is rough, almost pleading, yet edged with a raw quality that makes me want to come all over again.

“Yes, God yes. Please Jesse. Please, I’m begging you. Fuck me. Do it now!”

That’s when I hear a growl, a fucking growl like a caveman taking what is clearly his. Pulling me closer to him, he stands straight and proud, watching me as he runs his tongue across his glistening lips.

His jeans now fall to the floor, exposing the full expanse of his long, thick cock, tantalizing me and scaring the shit out of me at the same time. This is nothing like Austin.

He steps out of them, his eyes never leaving mine.

I’m starting to wonder about the wisdom of this sin of seduction I’ve concocted.

The feasibility of it.

Jesse sees the panic in my eyes judging by his next words. “It’s alright baby, I’ll go slow with you, I promise.”

I nod, moistening my lips because I really, really need him to kiss me now and know that everything will fit perfectly.

Inching the bulbous head of his cock into my slick entrance, he leans down and captures my lips with his own. His tongue teases mine, and he nips at my lower lip with his teeth, taking my mind off of the girth he’s inching into me.