A novel by

Jaden Wilkes

Copyright © 2014 by Jaden Wilkes. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Basically, don’t be a dick. I work hard as an independent writer, and it sucks every time I come across some douchey pirate site with my books on it. If you seriously can’t afford the very low price to buy my book, then email me and we’ll talk about it. Most likely I’ll send you a copy if it means you aren’t downloading it for free online somewhere.

And if you do download this for free from some rip off site, just remember, karma is like 69, you get what you give. It’s coming for you, asshole. Enjoy your shitty luck.

****WARNING****

Please understand that this book is full of swearing and sex and drugs. I don’t control what my characters do or think, so don’t shoot me off a bunch of angry emails because you got fired for reading it at work, or God is going to smite you for laughing, or you caught your husband jerking it to the sex scenes.

This is also a work of fiction. Seriously, dude. If you feel compelled to have casual, unprotected sex or shove coke up your ass because you read about it somewhere, frealz, you need help. Unprotected sex often leads to gross diseases and even worse, babies. And yeah, drugs are bad…mmkay? So, I guess that about covers it.

If you got this far, enjoy!

----------------------------

Stalker links:

author.jaden.wilkes@gmail.com

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJadenWilkes

https://www.goodreads.com/JadenWilkes

https://twitter.com/JWilkesAuthor

To all the bad boys

who inspired my work.

Dear husband being

the baddest of them all.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter One

The Efficiency of Glory Holes

I wake to the bright sunlight stabbing my eyelids and the slapping sounds of sex in my ears. I mentally check myself and breathe a sigh of relief. It’s not me fucking some dude, thank God, it’s always so awkward dozing off during a one night stand. Eva is at it again, I can’t remember who she lured home from the party this morning. I can’t even remember where the fuck the party was, but I feel like I had a good time. My head hurts and my limbs ache, I vaguely remember crowd surfing at some point, and a mosh pit. Damn, I might be bruised.

Fuck, what time is it? We dragged our asses in some time around five this morning and I have to be at work by six tonight. I roll over, reach for the phone, and realize my door is wide open; they are going at it on the couch, in full view.

Not bad, he’s got a nice ass at least. I can see it dimple with each thrust as he pounds my roommate from behind. She is moaning and thrashing her head around like a first rate porn star. Nice work, I’ll have to compliment her on it later.

I unplug my phone from the charger and will my eyes to focus. It is only three in the afternoon. Thank God, I hate having to rush to get anything done, making my way to the world’s shittiest job would have made hurrying even worse. I think only ‘Wal Mart greeter’ would rank lower than what I do, which is officially “retail clerk”, but more accurately “night shift babysitter in a sex shop/jerk off establishment” in Vancouver’s entertainment district.

That’s right, I am the unenthusiastic girl people avoid making eye contact with when they buy their spank mags and twelve-inch rubber cocks. I’m the one in full HAZMAT gear cleaning up the “accidental” shot spots they leave behind in one of our twenty-five cent porn booths. For what it’s worth, there’s a reason I don’t fill in the glory holes, they all think they’re so sneaky, getting their dick sucked by some anonymous stranger on the other side. I see it as less clean up, let the cock sucking stranger slurp up their spunk. It saves me running a disinfectant wipe along the wall, hoping that none of it touches any part of me. So keep up the good work anonymous strangers, keep gobbling cock and making my life easier. If you want, leave your address at the store and I’ll add you to my fucking Christmas card list.

I drag myself out of bed with some effort and wander through the living room. Dude’s rhythm has slowed a little and he looks surprised when he sees me. Deer caught in headlights with his cock out.

“It’s cool, it’s cool, carry on,” I say with a dismissive wave of my hand.

“You want to join-” he starts to ask, but cuts himself off when he sees my contemptuous stare.

“Not in a million years, but seriously, keep going or she’ll get pissed,” I let him know.

“Fuck yeah, come on, I’m almost there, asshole,” Eva complains, she reaches around and slaps his thigh.

“I told you,” I smirk and leave the room in search of coffee.

“You chicks are fucking nuts,” I hear him say as he starts to hump again. Dude, you don’t even know the half of it. Now where the fuck is that coffee?

Thirty minutes or so later I hear him leaving, Eva offers up the expected platitudes, “Oh yes it was awesome, I’ll totes call you, see you again soon, you were amazing.” She’ll never see him again, or should I say he’ll never see her? She is the avoidance queen. She has a three time rule, or curse, however you look at it. She says it’s amazing the first time she fucks a guy. The second time, not so much. By the third time, she’s totally bored and over him ages ago. Her theory is stick to the amazing and never let it get boring. Some might call her a slut; I call her a sexual friggin genius.

My problem? I don’t have sex nearly as often as I should, which probably contributes to my bad attitude. Not like, never, I’m not a virgin, but sex kinda disturbs me on some level. It might be my disgusting job, it might be the uncle who groped me every chance he got when I was a kid, or it might be the fact that I don’t find a lot of guys attractive and girls aren’t my thing, I don’t fucking know. I do know I need to fuck more often than I do, but people mostly suck, and not in the good way. When I do get the hornies though, watch out Vancouver, I’m like a cat in heat. I swear, it comes over me, a full on hot wave of stupid and I need a deep dish dicking like nobody’s business. When the stars align, and the drugs are good, I will get out and fuck like a rabid porn star. I have checked a lot of boxes on those online “purity” tests, but there’s still a few things I’d like to try. Sadly, a lot of the time I end up rubbing one off and cruising online dating sites for stimulation. When easy, meaningless sex and those God damned twelve-inch rubber cocks surround you, your porn becomes the promise of eternal love and a long term relationship. I always delete my browser history though, I think Eva could handle me jerking it to “I want to fuck my roommate with a huge strap-on dot com” more than me lusting over prep school graduates on Plenty of Fish, you know, the dudes with full time white collar jobs and sensible cars.

“Woo-fucking-hoo, that was fun,” Eva says as she comes into the kitchen. “His cock was massive, and he almost knew how to use it.” She has a shit-eating grin on her face; she loves sex, nothing gets her as high as a one-night stand. I love her when she’s on this high, so I approve of her random fucking. Is that weird? Fuck, who cares, she’s happy, I’m happy.

“Are you going to see him again?” I ask, deadpan. Half a second passes and we both crack up laughing. Of course she won’t, she never does.

“Poor guy doesn’t know what hit him,” she says, spreading some cream cheese on a bagel. “Why do guys get so fucking clingy when you don’t want to settle down and have their babies the minute they stick a dick in you? It’s weird, everyone else complains they can’t get a guy to hang around, I can’t get rid of them.” She starts fussing around the kitchen, wiping the counters and brushing crumbs into the sink. Another reason I love this girl, she’s a clean freak.

I can see why men wouldn’t leave her alone though; she is gorgeous, like really hot. I almost wish I were into girls; she’d be the one I’d go for. Maybe. She’s already kinda clingy with me, I can’t imagine how bad it would be if I was sucking her clit to boot. She would be a good catch though, she’s model tall, almost six feet, with long blonde hair and sweet surfer girl looks. At twenty-one, she still looks like a teen, she has an innocent shine in her bright green eyes, and men fall for her like idiots. I get a kick out of seeing them pant around her, begging for her attention, pleading with her to buy a drink or have a moment of her time. It is ridiculous, but keeps me constantly entertained and full of free drinks so I am not complaining any time soon.

I am not that lucky, I am shorter by a few inches, not lithe but not dumpy either. If genetics have anything to say about my future, I will end up with what my mother calls the family ‘wood stove’ body. Short, squat, and round with tiny little legs, like those old wood stoves you see in vacation cabins. Not that I’ve ever been to a vacation cabin, but I’ve seen them on TV and such. So yay genetics, but my mom could be lying for all I know, I don’t have anything to do with the family. I guess I’m ok looking if I’m being honest. I keep my dark hair pretty short and it’s currently bright blue. I change the colour often and have a wide assortment of wigs and extensions, just to keep my life interesting. It also makes me laugh my ass off when I am tripping balls and forget what I’m wearing; one look in the bathroom mirror will have me in hysterics. I play practical jokes on myself. Good hell, I need a different hobby.

My eyes are green, but not Eva’s sparkling, bright green, mine are more of a dark angry green. The green you associate with pond water or dank forest cover, not the precious jewel tones that Eva has lucked out with. I suppose some have called me beautiful, but I have a hard time believing it. I have a pixie face and was blessed with huge tits. They’re my one asset, when Eva’s not around I whip these puppies out to bring on the free booze. It mostly works if I can keep my sarcastic personality in check and my mouth shut.

I am tattooed, full arm sleeves depicting my favourite characters from classic fiction. Alice in Wonderland and the Cheshire cat wrap around my right arm, filled in with vines and flowers. My left arm has a couple of the monsters from Where the Wild Things Are with the Grendel from Beowulf. Sometimes people ask me why I chose the villain and not the hero…if you have to ask, you don’t know me that fucking well. I’d rather root for the underdog than some douche bag phony trying to front just to win some bitch’s hand in marriage. Yeah, I sound cynical, but that’s only because…well, I am. I also have some twisting designs across my chest that I drew based on some Celtic images I tore out of a History text book in grade ten. I’m not sure of my ancestry, so I just kinda make shit up as I go along.

I got my first tattoo long before it was trendy...ok, I lie, it was already in style when I got mine, but at least it isn’t a tramp stamp or a Twilight quote like half the girls in high school had by grade eleven. Mine are thoughtful, each one a careful process I arrive at after months of planning and thought. I usually design them in my head and have an artist friend sketch them out, then only go to one guy, Gypsy Frank on West Fourth, to ink them in. I have a new one underway, something by Poe, or maybe a take on a Cezanne. I am obsessed with his Mount Saint Victoire series and wonder how it will translate onto my ribcage. Eva always laughs and calls me an elitist cunt when she picks one out of a book at the shop and I roll my eyes. I can’t help it; ink is personal.

“So, there is one cool thing about him though,” Eva interrupts my daydreaming.

“What’s that?” I ask, rubbing my eyes. I’ve got to hit the shower soon; this coffee isn’t waking me up by itself.

“He’s in a band.” She replies and smiles, almost shyly. “It’s a punk band, he’s the lead singer. I listened to some of it when we got home.”

“Ha! Aren’t they all?” I snort, “That’s like the snowboarder you picked up in Whistler last year, said he was sponsored. Then we found out they all are, and he was really just a dishwasher, remember that?” I say. Eva and I have a funny game, we remind each other of the losers we’ve fucked just for shits and giggles.

“I know!” she laughs too, but quickly protests, “I swear this is legit! They’re on iTunes and everything!”

“Meh, maybe,” I shrug, “What does it take to get on iTunes? Do they have a screening process? Did you ask him?”

“Oh my God, you are such a cynic. It’s a good thing you’re cute, or I’d kick your ass outta here,” she says, looking like she might end up being frustrated with me again. I have a gift, most people end up frustrated if they spend too much time around me.

I stop myself in mid eye roll, and do my best to be kind about her new boy toy. I say, “Ok, that’s kinda cool. It’s almost too bad you’re not going to see him again. So what is the name of this amazing iTunes band?”

“Bondo,” she says, trying to keep a straight face.

“Get the fuck out of here, are you serious?” I start laughing, unable to stop myself. “Bondo? Isn’t that like a glue or something?”

“He said it’s something to do with cars, he works doing body stuff,” she says, going the prettiest shade of red. “I know, it’s a stupid name but they’re punk, you love punk.”

“What kind of punk?” I demand. “New wave? Classic? Do they do anything original or just covers?”

“Uh, I’m not totally sure,” she replies, “I think covers of some bands you like, The Circle Jerks, Dead Kennedys, The Misfits, that kind of thing. The bass player is super hot by the way,” she looks at me slyly. “I checked them out on Facebook when he was still here. They’ve got a gig coming up this Friday at The Roxy, wanna go?”

“I’ll think about it,” I say, feeling smugly superior about their shitty name, but seriously, of course I’ll go. What the fuck else am I gonna do?

I am late for work, again. It’s not unusual, but every time I am, the store owner acts surprised and angry. Luckily he’s passive aggressive about it, so I pretend not to notice. It’s our little game, at least I think he’s in on it. Either way, it amuses me to see him stiffen up when I walk in, then start slamming things while making little harrumph noises under his breath.

“Hey Jag!” I cheerfully call as I walk in at six twenty eight. He ignores me and adjusts his turban. The hilarious thing about my boss is he is an über religious family guy. He just likes money, and there’s no easier money than a skanky sex shop with spank booths in the rear. Ha, in the rear, I’ll have to remember that one for Eva later. He’s a devout Sikh from Surrey, but would never dare to get his hands dirty by owning this sleaze pile anywhere near his home. This is irony in its purest form, Surrey is known as the Lower Mainland’s asshole, it stinks and is full of all the nasty shit the rest of the area doesn’t want. Drugs, sex, white trash, you name it you can get it within two blocks of any Skytrain station.

Jag is a genuinely good guy though. He’s a decent boss and doesn’t treat me bad. He’s never made a pass or used the fact that we’re surrounded by giant rubber cocks and fake pussies to casually pry about my sex life. I just wish the customers would afford me the same courtesy.

I hear him sigh as I drop my old leather rucksack behind the counter and hop onto the bar stool in front of the register. He hands me a long pair of yellow gloves and a pack of sanitary wipes, I see him smirk under his evil magician stache.

“Oh fuck, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I moan and grab them. I slide my hand into one of the gloves and tug it with a dramatic snap. “You didn’t have any time to do this today? You don’t pay me enough!” I slide on the other glove and pick up the wipes. This is a well-rehearsed scene, we play it out several times a week.

“You know if you leave me here alone I can’t get anything done,” he says and waves his hands in the air.

“You know you can get shit done when the store is empty,” I reply, mocking his heavy accent.

He fakes outrage and shoos me out from behind the counter. “I don’t know why I pay you so much if this is the attitude I get. There are a hundred people who are waiting to do your job for-”

“Half the price and no back talk.” I cut him off and laugh. “I know, you’ve told me a million times!” I swear I hear him chuckle as I head towards the booths. I turn quickly, hoping to catch him laughing, but he shoots me a stern look and wags his finger at me. It’s a weird friendship we have, but somehow it works. And let’s face it, he puts up with a lot of shit from me.

Half way through my wipe down, I notice two things. First, I think Jag actually went over them a few hours ago, there’s not much cum. Second, I hear a light knocking on the wall beside me and turn to find a hard cock poking through. This is strictly a guy thing, these glory holes. It’s a man on the other side imagining another man’s waiting mouth in here. Sometimes I wonder what kind of mind fuck it would be if I took a try, sucked him dry, then popped out and said “Surprise, you like chicks now.” Heh, that would be awesome. Imagine the look on the dude’s face. Of course I won’t, I love sucking cock but kinda hate people and disease and the grossness of it all. But that would amuse me to no end.

I slap the dick with one of the wipes but it doesn't move. I slap it again and it visibly jerks, but stays put. I take the package of wipes and slap it as hard as I can. I hear a horny groan on the other side. Fuck, he’s into this. How do I get rid of him? I lean close to the hole, his dick stares at me accusingly, the little slit like a tiny mouth begging to be kissed. I get as close to it as I can without getting any ooze on me and yell “Hey asshole, there’s a chick in here!”

That does it. It’s not good for the ego to see it deflate and pull back so quickly, but at least I can get my job done. I stop for a moment and survey the scene, I would hate to bring a black light into one of these booths, it would light up like a fucking crime scene. I could be the Dexter Morgan of shot spot analysis. ‘Oh yes, this looks like he started jerking it over here, dribbled a little...see these directional drops? Then the final act was completed against this wall, you can see the force of the blow, the violent completion of the jerk off.’

The booth is essentially the size of a hall closet, with a black moulded plastic seat that faces a small TV screen. There’s a coin slot next to the TV and for a quarter you get about 3 minutes of porn. You do get to choose, it’s mostly man on man action, or shemales. Shemales are really popular for some reason. I think it’s not so much about the porn though, it’s the experience. It feels at times like a confessional, you’re not confessing to a priest but you’re bonding through some shared wank experience. It makes the guys feel less lonely and less like a freaky asshole.

And of course there’s the possibility that you can stick your cock through a hole and get sucked dry on the other side. For free. With no strings attached. You wouldn’t believe the number of suburban husbands who find their way down here, guys with wives and kids and golden retrievers and nice houses in the burbs. Guys who aren’t really gay, or are gay, or don’t know, but the thrill of sticking their dick in that hole and getting drained is too addictive. I guess it’s easy, you don’t have to listen to the hole bitch about your mother or remind you for the hundredth time that you’re not mowing the grass often enough and the neighborhood watch is complaining again. I get it, but it scares me. Part of the reason I don’t like to date is because of the things I’ve seen and heard in here. Men, even normal nice men in suits and ties and driving sensible cars, don’t seem to have the ability to discern danger when their cock is involved.

I finish up and head to the front, Jag’s already got his briefcase packed and ready to go. It makes me laugh that he carries a briefcase. I wonder if he tells the family what he does here in the city, or if he’s got some fiction about a respectable office job.

“Why don’t you work in an office?” I ask him out of the blue. He looks surprised.

“I don’t know, I just don’t think I’d like it.”

“What did you do in India?”

“I was a civil engineer.”

“What the hell is that?” I ask, knowing full well what it is but I like to keep up the illusion that I’m less intelligent than I really am. It’s a survival skill I picked up in childhood and it stuck. One of those annoying things I don’t think I could shake even if I try.

Jag knows I’m smart though; he looks at me, raises a brow and says, “I designed magical rocket ships that took people to Unicorn Island.”

Did my uber religious Indian boss just diss me? I laugh and say, “Good one. Ok, how did you end up becoming the evil overlord of all this?” I sweep my hand around like a game show hostess.

“I bought it from my Father-in-law.”

“So your family knows?”

He looks uncomfortable. I don’t think we’ve spoken for more than a minute about our personal lives. We have an unspoken rule to keep it all business, all the time.

“Yes, they all know but we don’t like to talk about it. We have several stores, the others are pawn shops and jewelry.”

“So you chose sex?” I chuckle, wondering if this guy runs deeper than I thought.

“I did. I don’t know why, but I like it. It’s comforting, knowing that no matter what is going on in the world with the economy or the politics, people will always buy sex.”

“You’ve got a good point,” I reply, impressed with his logic. “Have a good night!”

“You too, try not to steal money or product,” he smiles slightly as he heads out the door.

“That was interesting,” I say out loud. A short, middle-aged guy in a camo jacket looks up and smiles, anticipation in his eyes. Fuck, I’ve got to keep a gigantic wall up around these guys. The smallest sign of weakness and they’re rushing me, like wolves on a limping caribou.

“Not you. Eyes straight ahead, soldier,” I say and laugh to myself as his face goes red and he looks down, nervous. I can see that he’s holding the pocket pussy modeled after somebody named “Jade.” It’s not me, it’s not my pussy, but every single guy who buys it and notices my nametag tries to make eye contact. Their eyes are always full of questions and horny insecurity. I’ve found the best way to deal with them is to avoid eye contact and simply snarl, “Not mine, your total will be....” That usually shuts them up, but not always. For those dudes who are picturing me naked while they’ve got the rubber pussy in their sweaty hands, I simply stare them down. Works every time. I think I’m a little off-putting, or as every elementary school teacher ever said about me...I do not play well with others.

Jade isn’t my real name anyhow, I don’t even like it. My mom was a drunk. She drank and smoked up and probably did a lot of other nasty shit that I didn’t want to know about. Mostly just an old school small town girl hit the big city and became a raging drunk. My dad was worse, but he wasn’t around much. He did the nasty shit I definitely don’t want to know about, so I generally avoided him when he did decide to show up and play daddy of the year. Usually it coincided with the times he was wanted by somebody for something...drugs or money, it always came down to one of those two for my DNA donor.

Mom though, just your run of the mill angry drunk, but when my grandma found out mom was pregnant, she drove a day straight to New Westminster and dragged my mom back to the family farm in the Kootenays. She lived 28 miles from the town of Nelson, straight up a valley cradled between two mountains. My mom was trapped and sober and I was born on the farm with no problems. My grandma kept me healthy, but ultimately she couldn’t keep me safe. My mom took off after that, dragging me back to the city with her, and that began our series of moves and shitty boyfriends for her, shitty years for me, and even shittier digs every time we packed our stuff in the middle of the night and fled overdue rent.

For a long time my mother didn’t file my birth certificate. Finally stats BC caught up with her and forced her hand, she was going to get fined or in trouble or have to file me. It also helped sway her decision that her welfare worker told her about the extra money she’d be getting if she had me on file. So, my mom being who she is and drinking at the time named me Jack Daniels. No middle name. Just Jack. Daniels. Heee-laaar-ious, I know.

As soon as I was old enough to throw punches and defend against the bullies in grade school, I changed it to JD. It just so happened that Salinger was already one of my favorite authors by then, a fact I hid by huddling under my covers and reading “Catcher” by the light of my pilfered keychain flashlight. If my mom caught me, she’d become enraged by her ‘pretentious’ daughter trying to show her up, thinking she was so much better than anyone else. Follow this by a slap or two, then tears and a night spent in her cups wailing about what a terrible mother she is. As I said, it was easier to play dumb in my house.

In grade eight I was sent into an alternative program. We were back living in New Westminster; a low rent Pepto Bismal pink heritage building located directly next to the Skytrain tracks. It was cheap, cheaper because I think my mom was fucking the old Portuguese manager...and possibly the handyman, but I didn’t want to know. Every morning I’d stop in at the Hari Krishna restaurant on the bottom floor and pick up my lunch. They loved me there, it was a free restaurant to begin with, and all vegetarian, but they gave me more than enough food for lunch and dinner as they were closed by the time I got home from school. To this day the taste of a lentil patty makes me want to break out my saffron scarf, shave my head and dance around with my tambourine singing “Hari Hari.” No, not really, but belonging to a group where you don’t have to think for yourself seems appealing at times.

Lucky for me, Eva ended up in the same alternate program, read, “special school for slow and bad kids.” I was considered slow, she was bad, really bad. She was the same age as me, 13, and had already been expelled from several private and public schools on the Lower Mainland. Her parents were wealthy, kind, still together and utterly confused at their crazy rebellious pot smoking, boy obsessed only daughter. She had a town car drop her off every morning and called her driver “Jeeves.” That couldn’t have been his real name, but I’d never asked. Maybe one of these days I will.

She was a firecracker, a gorgeous firecracker, and she liked me. After her attention fell on me, I was set for life socially in terms of high school. Everybody loved Eva, and loved her money, so I got to tag along to the craziest events, concerts and house parties in mansions on the West Side.

One night when we were finishing grade nine, she talked me into taking the Skytrain down to Kits Beach to sleep outside under the stars. It’s a really popular beach, so we thought we’d be ok sneaking in a night there. I met her at Broadway Station and we hopped the 99 bus to Kits, then walked the few blocks down to the beach. It was a gorgeous summer night in Vancouver, the smell of grilled meat wafting from the beachside restaurant. Why couldn’t the Hari Krishnas be carnivores? I lamented this for the thousandth time as we stopped on the grass. I would’ve killed for a burger right then, like literally fucking killed, torn the throat out of a cow and cooked up the whole body. My mouth was watering by the time we got to the sand.

Eva kicked off her shoes and ran towards the water. I was wearing my knee high Docs, a sweet Salvation Army thrift store find, and sat down to unlace them. I carried them with me, not wanting to lose them to some quick thinking thief, and noticed Eva left her expensive flats behind. She just didn’t care about these things. I’ve always admired that.

We splashed around a little, squealing and laughing in the water, then headed for a nice spot on the grass. The sun was setting and the lights of Vancouver clicked on, our own private show it seemed. She sparked up a joint and we took turns on it, my first time so I sputtered and coughed when I inhaled which set her to laughing so hard she had tears down her cheeks.

I got into it though, I was apparently born chronic, and soon the effects were spreading through my body. My arms felt light and fuzzy, my legs felt leaden, like I couldn’t move if I tried. My face was frozen in a permanent Joker grin and I found everything was nicer, the lights twinkled and the ocean smelled delicious. I could hear the sounds of traffic in the distance and the faint screech of seagulls overhead. I fell back into the grass and marveled at the cool earth, the prickly poke of each blade on my skin and the crazy sensation of being connected to everything, I was part of an ecosystem and almost felt like weeping for the revelation. Almost, come on, I would have fucking punched myself in the face if I had actually cried.

Eva fell back into the grass next to me and grabbed my hand. Not in a lesbo way, but in that shared communion way.

“Your name should be Jade.”

“What do you mean?” I managed to squeak out, my throat and lips dry.

“JD, it sounds like Jade. And Jade is beautiful but tough, like you. It’s the hardest thing on earth but everybody thinks it’s precious. It can cut glass, did you know that?”

I think she meant diamonds, but I didn’t have the heart to correct her. “I don’t know, Jade sounds like a porn star name.”

“You should be so lucky. I would love to do porn when I’m older.”

“You’d be perfect for it,” a male voice said and we both sat up.

“Hey,” Eva said, “who are you?”

His name was Butch, he was an adorable Filipino guy a few years older than us, he had smooth skin and perfect teeth. He found us while taking a leak in the bushes, which he continued to do as we talked. I had never seen an uncircumcised dick before, and Eva caught me staring. “I think Jade likes it,” she laughed. And that’s how it happened; I was Jade from then on, even though I never really liked it. It just stuck.

It turned out Butch had a bit part in some cheesy Vancouver produced teen TV drama, so Eva fucked him on the beach that night. He also had a group of friends with a bonfire, better weed and a bunch of booze just up the grass from us. They also had burgers grilling on a portable BBQ, glorious fucking burgers. I think I ate six in the time it took Eva to fuck him and come back. By the time it occurred to me that he could be a serial killer rapist making off with my best friend, she was done and by my side, swigging straight out of a bottle of Bombay Sapphire, wide grin on her face.

And for the record, Jade is a porn star name. Hence our bestselling rubber twat modeled after a porn star named Jade. I always laugh at the little cured ham pocket pussy when a customer slides it across the counter, hoping to make eye contact. I secretly hope mine is prettier than the fake one, I always mean to get a mirror and check it out, but never have.

Chapter Two

Fist Fights and Bass Finger

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m on the mother fucking list!” Eva screams at the bouncer denying us entrance to The Roxy. We can hear the steady spine thumping bass coming from the club and the line winds around the block. Granville Street is hopping, it’s eleven on a Friday, anyone who’s anyone is here. This has been a no traffic area for as long as I can remember, so drunks and tweekers are free to stumble here and there with no worries. A frat boy and his buddies walk by, he smashes his beer bottle to the ground and whoops. I stare in disgust, I hate guys like that, and I can’t help my sneer.

“What the fuck are you looking at, freak?” he yells right in my face, arms out like he’s going to attack.

“Nothing,” I reply, cool as a cuke and spit on the ground in his direction. “Absolutely nothing.”

“That’s good, fucking bitch,” he says and walks away, not understanding he was just dissed by a “freak.” I wonder if he’ll ever get it.

“We are on there, I know we are. The lead singer of, like, the band that’s playing right now? He personally invited us!” Eva continues to argue with the beefcake dude guarding the door. I don’t say a thing. I know she won’t quit until she gets her way.

“Sorry miss, do you know how many girls a night try to get in that way? I don’t see your name, I can’t let you jump the queue.” He looks up and down his clipboard carefully, not seeing us on it.

“Come on, do you know how pissed he’ll be if you deny him access to this?” She motions up and down her body.

“Ok, what’s his name?”

“Diesel.” She says and looks smug.

“Everybody knows his stage name...I mean his real name,” he says and raises one eyebrow.

Eva looks stunned. You can tell she’s thinking but can’t quite remember “big cock bent over couch’s” name. Fuck, this is going to be a long night. He glances at me and we share a look.

“Gage!” She yells triumphantly, “His real name is Gage Patterson!”

The bouncer hesitates, he really wasn’t expecting her to know that, neither was I. I’m sure he’s thinking he’ll regret this, but he reluctantly unhooks the velvet rope and lets us pass.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Eva blows him a kiss as we go in.

The club is packed. We don’t even bother to check our things. I’m glad I shoved everything into a small wallet and shoved it down the pocket in the front of my short plaid skirt. I sew a little pocket inside all of my skirts just for this reason. Yeah, I sew, big fucking deal. I’m wearing shredded black tights and have my hair sticking up as high as I can get it, the sides are super short and I have long, green extensions falling down my back. I love the eighties punk look, well, love might be an understatement…I fucking worship the eighties punk movement. Tonight I compliment the plaid mini kilt with a black Ramones tee, a black leather jacket and dark, smoky eyes, very heavy on the mascara. I am wearing my ‘fuck me’ boots, as Eva called them, but I think of them more as ‘fuck you up’ boots. They’re knee high Fluevogs, black leather and have about a hundred eyelets. I love them so damn much, they are pretty much the only article of clothing I’ve ever spent full price on. I used to walk past the Fluevog flagship store on Granville Street almost every day on my way to work. I would pause and stare in the window so often that one clerk would wave and smile brightly at me every time he’d see me. I knew how much they were and saved up until the glorious day I waved back, and opened the front door. The look of surprise on his face was worth the money, and the boots were the icing on that cake.

I know I look good tonight, my tits feel full and perky and my legs feel long and elegant. We push our way through the crowd so Eva can spot Diesel from somewhere near the front. The beat is slamming, and my body picks it up immediately. My hips sway in time as we walk, and I accidentally brush up against the bodies of one or two hot, drunk men. Shit, I think I’m in heat. I do a mental evaluation and try to check myself. Nope not working, my body wants to grind tonight, and my brain is quickly losing control. I hope Eva brought something to blame it on: there’s nothing wrong with finding yourself on the receiving end of a punk band bukakke party if you can say it was the X.

Eva turns to me and yells, “I think I see the bass player, the one I want you to meet.” She points to the stage where a few guys are thrashing around, playing it up for the crowd. The only one who stands out is Diesel, the others are moving too fast for me to know who’s on bass.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of myself tonight,” I assure her. She’s been yapping about this guy since she hooked up with Diesel and I’ve been dashing away every time she tries to force me to look at him. I get this weird feeling that Eva has some kind of nesting thing going on, she wants to settle down and a dating foursome with her bestie might just be the thing for her, but not for me. No way I’m getting roped into faking it with some loser bass player just to appease her need for domestic bliss. Out of the corner of my eye I see Eva jumping up and down, waving her hands frantically.

“There’s no way he’ll see you in here, calm down,” I yell over the music.

She doesn’t hear me, or doesn’t care. She continues to push herself closer to the stage, ignoring the angry shouts and glares from the people at the front. She is a girl on a mission and nobody was getting between her and “massive-cock-almost-knows-how-to-use-it.” At least she’s forgotten about foisting me off on bass guy, so I’m left on my own.

I stand behind her, swaying slightly but tapping my foot in annoyance and my growing frustrated horny state. Eva is still waving her hands like an idiot and trying to get his attention, but she is one girl in a sea of drunken sluts. Diesel turns in the middle of a repetitive howl that’s doubling as music, and spots her. He stops dead, a wide grin lights up his face and he reaches for her.

It’s definitely gonna to be a long fucking night. The only thing Eva loves more than gigantic cock is a gigantic gesture, especially if it’s seen by a club full of jealous girls. She’s the ultimate fangirl, especially if it means she gets to be the centre of attention.

I turn and head towards the bar, adjusting my top so my tits hang out a little more. It looks like I am on my own for free drinks. I still need to find something to fuck me up so I have some excuse for the self-destructive sex I need tonight. I sidle up to the counter and try to make eye contact with a couple of decent looking guys. Nothing. Fuck. They must be a couple, or something. I lean on one arm, slowly swivel my head and scan the place, not a single guy looking my way. What is this tonight, a bunch of dudes actually here for the fucking music? Finally! Eye contact. Fuck, some old dude. He looks like my tenth grade English teacher, Mr. Grady. Shit, is that Mr. Grady? No, it can’t be. That would be hilarious and awesome though if it was. I avoid eye contact with the fake Grady and keep scanning slowly. There’s gotta be at least one horny asshole with a deep wallet in this place. Then bells go off in my head, ding ding ding we have a winner. I settle on a ripped, biker-looking dude with wicked tats everywhere. His silver earplugs are huge and his arms are bulging with muscle so thick you could carve a steak off them. He's staring at me like he wants to fuck me like a beast, right then and there. Perfect.

I smile, my best impression of a flirty diva that probably ends up looking like a cross between a serial killer and a Prozac dependant preacher’s wife. He digs it though, he watches me the entire time I shove through the crowd towards him.

"Hey," I say, using my A game material on him.

He nods, “What’s up?”

I can barely hear him but I’m pretty damn good at reading lips. “Not much, you?”

The conversation continues along this vein while Rod (yeah, his name is Rod) and I get to know each other on a personal level. I finally lick my lips slowly and pantomime a drinking motion. He’s not that stupid, and he picks up what I’m laying down. He leans in and yells, “Do you want a drink?”

“Heck yes,” I yell back.

“What? I said do you want a drink?” he yells even louder.

“Yes! A vodka Redbull!” I practically scream in his face.

He hears that and signals a waitress. She looks bored and angry as he screams our drink order in her general direction. The music is thumping even louder. I wonder how deaf I’ll be when I’m forty...or thirty. How long can my ears handle this weekly abuse? I smile at Rod and he nods back, vaguely keeping time with the song. I wonder where Eva is, if she’s on stage with her massive cock obsession yet.

Ok, time to ramp this up a little. I look around for somebody I know. I need to get righteously messed up tonight, and the drinks aren’t going to do it. I scan continuously, this obviously makes Rod uncomfortable, he thinks I’m looking for new cock. What the fuck is his problem, it can’t be new if I haven’t had his yet. Fuck, I hate possessive men, like the minute their jizz hits my skin, I’m marked for life. I try to avoid eye contact with him and keep looking.

I see Eva on stage with her guy; she’s beaming and looks so fucking proud it’s almost comical. I smile and keep looking until I spot an old friend of mine, Sarai Blessing, an aging hippy chick who’s always packing the good stuff. I wave my hand frantically at her, willing her to notice. She’s so spaced out, she doesn’t see anything at first. I am about to give up when a flash of recognition crosses her face and she sees me. That’s right, close your mouth and float on over here sweetie. She’s pretty out of it and looks at Rod intently, from top to bottom, when she makes it to our corner. She perches on one of the tall chairs and leans on the tiny table, wobbling and pushing Rod’s elbow off. He looks perturbed but relieved I was inviting another chick over. No battle of the sausage tonight big guy, relax. She leans in close to me and says, “What the fuck is going on here?” gesturing towards Rod.

“Nothing much at all,” I reply and we both laugh...her a few minutes too long. I need to get up to where she is, it looks like a fun high.

“Excuse me,” the waitress interrupts us and pushes her way to the table. She speaks to Rod, he hands her a roll of bills, and she leaves a tray of drinks. Not one of them looks like a vodka and Redbull. I know, first world problems, right? But, fuck I wanted something that would complement the X.

He looks so proud, I feel obligated to smile and choose a drink that is at least clear. The worst thing to take when you’re high is one of these creamy shitty cocktails, nothing with Malibu or Baileys. I see one, take a test sip and find it’s a gin and tonic. It will do. I hand a glass to Sarai and we toast before we down the drinks. I take mine like a shooter, I’m pretty good that way. I have this trick of opening my throat and letting the liquid pour down, it works like a charm for sucking cock too. I’m rather proud of it, I kinda wish I could put it on my résumé.

Rod seems sad to be left out, so the next shot I toast him as well, he lights up like a kid on Christmas. Geeze, set your standards higher, dude. We keep this up for a few drinks. Finally I turn to Sarai and say “Are you packing?”

She blinks twice, slowly, and nods.

“Whattya got?” I ask.

“Just X,” she replies in her spacey voice.

“Nothing better?” I ask, hoping for something to get me right trashed in order to fuck Rod, coke would probably do the trick.

Sarai reaches out and touches my cheek. She blinks slowly again and says “No, just the X.”

“Ok, I’ll take it.” Beggars can’t be choosers after all. We exchange money for pills and I look at Rod, I show him the drugs in the palm of my hand and ask “You in?” He shakes his head no and points at the rest of the shooters. He plans on getting shitfaced; if I want him in working condition later, I'd better get him away from the booze right away.

I look down at a pill. These ones are pink with a hippo in a tutu on it. I love the design that goes into these things, one of those unnoticed treasures of the art world. One day I want to compile them all into a coffee table book with a pretentious title. I pop it in my mouth and swallow a tequila shooter. I grimace at the taste, not sure if it's the pill it the booze, and shove the other three in the pocket with my money. I grab Rod's hand and wait for the pill to take effect.

It never fails. Every time I get high there is a point about fifteen minutes in when I doubt the drug. I always think it's not working or maybe I need to take more. I start to feel anxious, drop Rod’s hand and pull my phone out a couple of times to see how long it’s been.

And then it hits me. I can feel the music. I don’t mean like feel the beat because the sound waves travel through the air and vibrate my eardrum. I mean fucking feel the music. It’s in my blood; the notes are floating through the air like a Disney animation and sliding into my body, entering my blood stream and energizing my limbs. I start to sway with the background, the bass....it’s hypnotic and speaking to me. Out of all the hard, thrashing sounds they are dropping tonight, I connect to that underline. I feel like I could float a few feet off the ground and follow the trail of music.

I feel strong hands around my waist. I know I’m fucking high when I don’t react badly. If I’m down, I’d probably turn around and knee the unlucky dude in the balls. Instead I turn, feeling the music and probably looking like a freaky Whirling Dervish in slow motion, and come face to face with Rod. He’s such a tool, I know this, on some level I still know this dude’s a bit of a douche, but I don’t care. I’m not marrying him. He runs his hands up and down the front of me, settling on my breasts and massages me slowly to the music. It feels fucking good. I want to wrap my legs around him and slide his cock inside of me on the dance floor, but that will get you kicked out faster than you can yell “It’s not what it looks like.” Believe me, I know.

Instead we start to dance. I can tell he’s not feeling that same hypnotic bass line, he’s riding a different wave than I am. He’s drunk and I’m high on X, it’s like watching TV versus listening to the radio. The overall effect is to communicate information, but the medium is vastly different. I’m still feeling it; I’m so far over the rainbow that I’d probably feel anything right now. I’d probably slobber all over Fake Grady’s cock right now if he whipped it out and wiggled it at me. Rod’s ok though, I can tell he’s really trying to please me. I’m a hard girl to please, so I give him a smile and some encouragement in the form of stroking him through his jeans. He grinds his pelvis on me and pulls me tight into him. I melt with all the sensation and start to float on a cloud of pleasure. He’s got his hands down the back of my skirt, his finger finds the elastic waist of my shredded tights and he slips down. The music has stopped and they’re piping out some canned punk beats, so the floor is still crowded but not as agro.

I feel his fingers push farther and slide to the front. He’s grinding his hard dick against my thigh, I hold his thick arms, hang on and pull one leg up to wrap around him. He finds my slit and jams a thick finger inside of me. It’s dark, we’re surrounded by gyrating couples and I’m riding his fat finger like a cock when she finds us.

All I know is I’m flying through the air. Bitch grabbed me by the hair and yanked back as hard as she could, I think I lost a couple extensions. She’s a pretty big girl, so it was really fucking hard. I have never seen her before, but her eyes are full of pure rage. She’s not high, she’s not drunk, she’s just really fucking pissed. I try to stand up but my legs feel wobbly. Rod is standing there with a look of guilt on his face and his thick finger still curled up, drying in the air.

“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?” Hulk Chick screams at him.

“I told you, I’m out with the guys,” Rod protests. I swear his eyes cross. What the hell was I thinking? He’s so not my type.

“Oh, and this is one of the guys?” Hulk Chick screams and points at me. I don’t want any part of this so I get to my feet and move away. I feel for my wallet, but it’s gone. I spot it at Rod’s feet. It must have wiggled loose while I was wiggling on top of him. Gross, he really is far from my usual conquest. I keep an eye on Hulk Chick and edge towards my wallet. I swoop in, grab it and start to back away. Hulk catches me out of the corner of her eye and loses it. She comes at me swinging her meaty hands and I duck. She’s caught off balance so I throw her a wicked left hook as she stumbles past. Her head snaps back and pain radiates through my hand. This isn’t any way to enjoy X. Come on, let me get back to communing with the universe.

Hulk stands up and searches for me. She locks my gaze and rushes me. I hear somebody scream my name and I put my dukes up, old timey boxing style. Let’s get real though, I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, the first one was just a lucky break.

I feel my feet leave the floor and Hulk rushes past me. My arms are pinned and I start to wiggle, trying to break free.

“What the fuck are you doing? Let me go!! I need to fight!” I scream.

“I’m saving your life, sweetheart, did you get a good look at her? She’ll lay you flat if she connects,” this deep, smooth voice says in my ear. It’s like listening to sex, if sex could talk, he’s got a bedroom voice and I feel myself heat up immediately.

“But what about Rod?” I ask, suddenly attached to him, or possibly not wanting to lose to Hulk Chick. I’m such a competitive asshole at times.

“I think he’s gone,” he replies and turns with me still in his arms, and gives me a good look of Hulk and Rod leaving the club. They’re hand in hand and Rod’s got his head down like a shameful little boy.

“Well that sucks donkey balls, I didn’t even get off,” I say and finally wiggle free. I spin around to confront a six and a half foot wall of tattooed muscle.

“Well, helloooo there,” I say and smile, feeling quite in touch with the sensual side of life again. I look him up and down, trailing my fingernail along his arm as I do. He’s got tattoos circling up both arms, complete sleeves that continue under his tee shirt. I see a dragon on one side and a Japanese Koi on the other, many of the patterns and images aren’t big enough to register right now, I’ll need to study them later. He’s built, not overly muscled like a gym rat or Rod, but lean and muscular. Just the way I like ‘em. His face is classically handsome, like a Disney prince. You know what I mean, square jaw, one of those little ass cheek chins with the hole in the middle, a perfect set of white teeth and a straight, strong nose. His eyes though, that’s what throws me for a loop. They are a piercing blue-green, a colour I’ve never seen before. He is also sporting a tall mohawk, a real one, not one of those pussy faux-hawks so popular these days. The green spikes rise about eight inches off his head, the rest of him is shaved bald.

“Hey, we match,” I giggle, indicating my own green hair.

“Yeah, cool,” he says, and looks over my shoulder. God he’s tall...and stacked. I just need to convince him he needs dirty sex.

“You look like you need dirty sex,” I say, my voice sounding more and more like a fucking hippy the deeper I fall into his spell. I know it is the X talking, but this guy is perfect, he is everything I ever dreamed about all wrapped up in one cool-assed aloof and mysterious package.

“Ha, you look like you need a nap,” he replies, then motions to somebody behind me. I turn around and see Eva hanging off the arm of her massive cock guy, Diesel. What a stupid name, I hope he wants us to call him Gage.

“Fuck, Jade! I thought you were going to get your ass kicked!” she shrieks in my ear as she hugs me close. “You looked like you were fighting underwater, what are you on?”

“Just a little harmless X,” I whisper back. “I’m going to fuck this mohawk dude here, so you need to split.” At least I thought I was whispering, but apparently X makes me loud as fuck, because mohawk was laughing and had his hands up in mock surrender.

“Jade, you idiot, I sent him over here. This is Hush, he plays bass with the band,” Eva says in an angry, low tone. “This is the guy I told you about!”

I gulp. Like, a total cartoon gulp. “Are you for real? Well, this is awkward,” I say, trying my best to look contrite. I am still planning on fucking him, but would have to really think about this instead of pulling a hit and run. It’s hard to have a quickie when it looks like you’ll be seeing more of him thanks to Eva and her newfound love. Maybe her plan to double date won’t be such a bad one after all.

“Why don’t we all go back to your place?” Diesel suggests, rubbing Eva’s back, “after the last set here.”

“Sounds good to me!” Eva grins, and reaches down to rub his crotch. I look at Hush and catch him staring at me. He’s definitely down to fuck, I’m sure of it. I shoot him what I assume is a sexy smile, if a “Gary Busey on crack” smile can ever be considered sexy. I’ve really got to work on this in the mirror; this flirting thing could come in handy.

We sit at one of the tall tables for the last few minutes of the band’s break. Eva is pressed up against Diesel, wiggling on him like she is giving him a lap dance in the VIP lounge. Every snotty little cunt that walks past shoots her a look of pure hatred. They all wish they could be in her spot and Eva is eating it up with a big old spoon.

I can barely look away from Hush. Fuck, he is smoking hot. I know it’s the X, logical me interjects, but he is fucking unbelievable. He’s got to be a total dick if he looks like that. Speaking of dick...I lean over and smile at him, working on keeping the insanity and lust out of my eyes. “So, you come here often?” I ask, deliberately cheesy. I think I even wag my eyebrows up and down a couple of times.

“Oh, good one,” he smiles, a flash of humour that’s gone before it starts, then looks over my shoulder. Fuck, now he seems completely uninterested. Good thing I love a challenge.

“But seriously, have you guys played here before?” I try to ignore the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch his face. Fucking X, not the best thing to be on when I meet the hottest guy in like...ever.

“Yeah, a couple of times I guess,” he replies, then does that annoying look away thing again. I want to grip his face in between my hands and force him to look at me with those incredible eyes.

“Cool. So how long have you been playing?” I keep my conversation as innocuous as possible, trying to make him answer. Come on little fish, take the bait. Let me lure you in, then I can snatch you up and fuck you until you forget your own name. Wait, what is his name? Oh yeah, Hush. Ugh, what a stupid name. I guess he can’t be perfect.

“About fifteen years,” he says, his eyes meeting mine for a few seconds longer than the last time. Ha! The trap is set.

“So what, you started when you were two?” I smile, willing him to look back at me.

“No, since I was about ten,” I see the ghost of a smile flicker across his lips. Those kissable, suckable lips. The image of me writhing on my bed flashes into my head. I’m spread out like a flayed salmon with him sucking and tracing his tongue along my pussy...oh God I have to fuck this guy please let me fuck him tonight and I swear God I will do something to make you proud of me, ok?

I look him up and down again. I just can’t get enough of him. I ask, “Is Hush your real name or your stage name?” I hope it’s his stage name, I don’t really like it, but it might grow on me.

He looks at me and hesitates, as if weighing options in his head. My radar starts to blip and I know he's going to lie. It really doesn't matter; it's just that years with a drunk mom has taught me how to pick up on it.

"Yeah, Hush is my real name,” he holds his gaze a few seconds longer. Yup. Of course he lied, but I don’t care, I’m reeling him in. He’s mine. He looks over my shoulder at the back of the club, towards the bathrooms. “Hang tight, I’ll be right back,” he smiles. He actually smiles. His smile is fucking brilliant, a flash of sunlight on an overcast day, I am even more smitten if that’s humanly possibly.

“Sure thing,” I say, nodding my head like one of those birds that dips in and out of the water glass. I’m sure I look that fucking stupid too. What is it with this guy? I wonder again. It’s gotta be the drugs. This is really good fucking X.

I watch him walk away, admiring his firm ass cupped in skinny jeans. He’s got a long swagger and every woman he passes turns her head to watch him walk. He makes his way through the crowd, people part like a frenzied Red Sea, and him a Moses with a green mohawk. I would follow him into the desert...fuck I need to get off these Bible metaphors, nothing kills a good fuck like a Bible reference. Unless you stick with the classics like, “Oh God, oh God.”

I wait until he disappears down the hallway and follow him. I know what I want and my pussy prays he wants it too. I slide past losers and posers, skinny guys and older women; all kinds show up to these punk shows. Those newly discovering the music, those reliving their youth through the new scene, and those like me who feel they have some sort of special privilege for discovering this shit a few years ago and have studied the ins and outs and subtleties of the music until you are a walking punk rock Google of useless facts and random tidbits. I walk like I’m People because I fit into the last category, I don’t know why that matters to me, but I think I’m better than most, and because of this I am going to fuck the bass player in the band.

I find the men’s washroom at the end of the hall on the left, just before the emergency exit. There are couples lined up along the walls of the passage in various stages of undress and sexual activity. I guess I’m not exactly original.

It’s a small room with a single stall. I’ve been in here before. Not to fuck, but I did give a hand job to an old friend a couple of years back. Hush is leaning against the urinal; he doesn’t look up when I come in. I’ve completely lucked out and the room only has two other guys in it. They watch me, try to get my attention, then give up and leave one by one.

Hush still doesn’t know I’m here and I’m starting to feel like the biggest fucking creeper on the planet. I think about leaving, but he’s so mesmerizing I can’t go. I need to do this. It’s the X, I reassure myself again. This is really good shit.

I’ve got tunnel vision. All I can see is this guy, this perfect badass, tattooed, green mohawk, punk rock guy. The music of the club sounds tinny, as if from a great distance, and I feel like I am going to spin down onto the floor, my head feels so wonky. I turn back to the door and kick the doorstop in place, locking us in. This noise catches his attention and he turns, in slow motion in my mind. He stops, he stares. His brows go up and he smiles.

He wasn’t taking a piss; I can see that now. I think he must have been doing a couple of rails of coke, I can see the glassy “I’m a fucking rock star” look in his eyes and the traces of powder around his nostril. He’s sweaty, his ‘hawk is falling over and the room smells like piss and vomit. I don’t care. I’m still down to fuck. Right now.

He walks towards me and says, “I think you got the wrong bathroom, the ladies room is across the hall.”

I roll my eyes, he knows why I’m here. “Uh thanks, but I think you know why I’m here.” Yeah, that’ll tell him. Wait, what do I even want to say to him? He unsettles me like nobody else. I’m reaching now, trying to find something to hook him, something that will seal this deal. I smile and blurt out, “I like penis.”

Fuck me, I think my own brain just punched itself in the face over that one. God, what the actual fuck is wrong with me? This guy, he makes me crazy...or maybe the drugs are doing it. They’re making me so stupid...and horny.

“Do you, now?” he asks, his eyes blazing with coke-fuelled fire. He reaches out and pulls me to him, my body curves perfectly into his, and he kisses me.

It’s a kiss to remember when I’m old as fuck and laid up in bed waiting to die. Remember this, this exact moment because God DAMN it feels fucking fine.

His tongue is cool but his lips are hot. He starts off slowly, sucking my upper lip, taking it between his teeth and biting me ever so soft. Like a lover, this is what love feels like. Fuck. This is nice.

His urgency builds and his hands cup my ass, pulling me harder against him. I can feel his cock hidden away in those tight jeans, dying to get out, to find me. He tucked on the left side today, good to note.

His tongue becomes the only thing I know. His is spiraling around mine like a Celtic knot with no end. It’s a continuum of wet, warm, heart stopping sensation. His tongue is warm now. I did that. He reaches up under my Ramones shirt and starts to massage my breast. He finds my nipple and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. I sigh against his mouth and rock myself towards him, my hips hitting his. He grunts, I don’t know if it’s pain or lust, I just don’t fucking care. I want him inside of me, fuck this foreplay shit, I need to release this insane build up before I fucking explode. That’s a nice thought, chunks of horny high me all over the walls in this grimy bathroom. Death by hormonal overload.

“Hey, what the fuck’s taking so long buddy?” an angry guy calls out and bangs on the bathroom door. We don’t have long.

I pull back and say, “Let’s just do this,” urgency tinting my voice with a whine. I would beg him for his cock if he asked.

“We’re not doing this,” he said, pulling back farther, looking at me with concern. “I’m not going to fuck you in here, is that what you want?” I stop breathing. What did I step into here? Fuck, if I say yes he’ll think I’m a slutty asshole, if I say no he’ll think I’m a lying asshole.

“Uh...maybe?” I say, hoping he’ll let me off the hook. This guy steals my voice, who am I around him?

“Maybe? You followed me back here thinking maybe?” he whispers into my ear. He bites my lobe for emphasis and I gasp. I can feel the line of crazy pleasure from my ear directly to my clit. I breathe out slowly and find my voice. I reply, “No, I was hoping I’d get a chance to slide myself down your thick cock and milk your balls until we can’t do anything but grunt and sweat.” Ah-ha, there I am!

“You want that, do you?” he growls and pulls me up against him; my head is thrown back so I can maintain eye contact. His eyes are gleaming. “You want me to pull out my cock, pull up your skirt and shove it up inside of you, is that what you’re saying?”

I’m gone again. I can’t talk. My world has been reduced to his eyes, those eyes the colour I’ve never seen before. I can see myself reflected in them, my own eyes huge on my face, blinking in surprise. “Yes, I do believe I would like that,” I finally manage to say. I am on fire, every nerve is alight with need. I need him to fill me, to fuck me, to own me and use me. I’m so glad I can’t speak right now. I would sound insane if I voiced this.

“You’re such a polite little slut, aren’t you?” he laughs. He reaches down and pulls up my skirt, the banging on the door resumes and we both ignore it. We don’t break eye contact as he hooks his finger inside my thong and pulls it down far enough to find my smooth pussy. I realize I’m holding my breath, waiting for him to slip his fingers lower, to find my wet slit and circle my clit until I’m a panting sobbing mess.

I would beg him for his dick right now. I know this. I would crawl across this disgusting piss covered bathroom floor on my hands and knees and beg to worship that delicious cock. Thank God he hasn’t asked me to do that. I might get out of this with a shred of dignity.

He slides his finger lower, finds the top of my slit and parts my lips; he hovers there for half a second, an eternity of torment for me, then pushes lower. This is already hundreds of times more satisfying than that dude on the dance floor, his name forgotten. He hits my clit hard, it’s a collision of flesh but it feels like metal on metal in my mind. It’s intense and the impact slams my eyes shut and my head back.

“Look at me,” he demands, “fucking look at me while I do this.” He’s working my clit faster, and I force myself to lift my head up and open my eyes. His are so intense I can barely stand to keep staring. It’s like looking at the sun, I worry if I don’t look away his image will be burned on my retinas for the rest of my life. I can’t handle this raw intimacy. I want to let my eyelids fall shut, but I won’t. I don’t want him to stop.

He reaches further down, sliding two fingers into my entrance. I’m waiting for this, and I move my legs apart, allowing easier access. His fingers are rough; he thrusts them inside of me applying pressure to the inside wall of my cunt. Bass player fingers, I think with a flash. This is what they mean. Rough and fast, the callous where he hits the strings, he’s playing me now and I’m moaning and gasping along with the rhythm.

“Oh, I’m almost there,” I push my pelvis upwards and grab him around the neck to support myself. I’m going to fall otherwise, I’m about to crash down into my orgasm, I don’t want to end up on the floor.

He allows this, fucking my cunt with his fingers, hammering into me, pushing me towards the edge of my limit until I come hard, fall into the pleasure and start thrashing on his hand like a porn star. I give a good performance though. I have to say that. Wow, I have brilliant spots of colour exploding behind my eyelids, this is exactly what I need tonight.

“You are a nasty little bitch, aren’t you?” he whispers into my ear, his fingers still deep inside of me. He wiggles them and I jump, he laughs. “I could get used to this, making you jump.”

“It’s my turn next,” I smile against his cheek, still panting from my orgasm.

“Hush! Fuck! Are you in there? We’re on!” Diesel yells and bangs on the bathroom door. We could hear several angry voices complaining about it being locked.

“Next time, sweetheart,” Hush says, he pulls his hand up and turns away. I stand there with my knees trembling, wide apart, my pussy dripping and my mouth hanging open in surprise. I compose myself the best I can and follow him. Just as he reaches the door, he turns and sweeps me into a kiss. Fucking Gone With the Wind action right here, I think, thrown off guard by the gesture. He pulls back, looks me up and down, smiles and my knees go weak again. This guy is hard-core and I am hooked.

Hush kicks the doorstop and opens the door with a flourish. There is quite a crowd gathered, Diesel is at the forefront looking pissed. The rest of the guys start clapping when they see me. What else could I do? I bow and sweep my hand in front of me like a ringmaster. Hush stops and laughs. “Come on, you’re fucking nuts,” he says and grabs my hand. I like this coked up version, I think. He’s much more...into me.

He stops just outside the bathroom and takes a look at the guys hanging on his every move. He drops my hand, puts his fingers up to his nose, breathes in my scent and sticks them in his mouth. He drags them over his lips, his tongue darting out to taste me. What can I say; I love a showman. I am dripping wet again by the time he slurps the lingering taste of me off the tips. The crowd of guys goes nuts; hooting and yelling like monkeys at the fucking zoo. This is my first taste of fame, and I like it.

Chapter Three

Let’s Do This

The rest of the show goes off without a hitch. Eva and I sit at one of the tiny tall tables near the edge of the dance floor. I feel like I’m perching, watching my man. My cunt still throbs from the feel of Hush’s fingers inside of me, and I can understand how addictive this is, why Eva loves it. Girls saunter past and give me dirty looks of envy and bitchy anger. Guys stare at me like fucking my pussy would be their magic portal to becoming a punk rock God. I would mention to them that Bondo is just a two bit band playing a second rate club in a city known for its mountains, not its thriving punk scene...but fuck it, I'm loving this too much.

After the show Hush lays his guitar down on an amp and a roadie scurries forward to pick it up. I admire this. Perhaps Bondo isn’t as shitty as I think they are. He takes a look at me, smiles, purposefully smells his fingers again and leaps off the stage. The crowd parts to give him room and a few long strides later he's in front of me. I can see the coke has worn off a bit but there's still a glimmer of attraction there. It comforts me, knowing the drugs brought us together but there might be something tangible in our raw heat after all.

"Great set," I nod at him, doing my best to play it cool and resist the urge to stroke his smooth skin, slicked with sweat. I imagine that stubble on his jaw line would send me into tactile sensation orbit. I think about running my tongue along his face, tasting his salty sweat, humping his leg and biting his lip. He’s got me hotter than a bitch in heat.

It’s the X, this can’t be real, I reassure myself for the millionth time. This repetitive inner monologue is actually getting on my nerves, my own insecurity and attraction to the hottest man I’ve ever seen is annoying me. I need to stop.

“Thanks,” he says with a lopsided grin. “So, what’s up for the rest of the night?”

Thankfully none of his icy distance has come back, in spite of the coke fire receding. I don’t know if there is some left inside there, or if he’s genuinely interested in me, but I don’t care right now. I feel like I’ve won a fucking prize or something. I wonder if he comes with an oversized cheque.

I’m grinning, and would wag my tail if I had one. Thank God I’m not one of those club kids with the whacky fox tails hanging off the back of them or I might be wiggling like a Chihuahua on speed by now.

“I don’t know, I think Eva’s the cruise director for the night,” I tell him, still grinning. Oh my God, I hate my own lack of control and some part of me, the part that’s been kicked and called down and laughed at my entire life, the inner bitter spinster, is warning me that he’s just acting like this as part of some cosmic joke. There’s no way he could be interested in me, not that I care, but somewhere I do. Maybe. Fuck, this was supposed to be a fast bang with somebody I didn’t know, something to ease the sexual tension and keep my heart safely stowed in the overhead compartment. I need to check myself before I wreck myself.

Fuuuuuuck I’m starting to sound like a snappy gum chewing inner city teenager.

He doesn’t notice any of this; none of my colossal inner struggle makes it to my face. Thank you Jeebus for this one small gift from my mother, the ultimate poker face. Comes from having to lie to the authorities from an early age.

Eva jumps in and says “Denny’s, then our place, if that’s ok with you two.” She gives me the brow lift, the ‘hey, is that cool’ look and I nod my agreement.

Diesel has reached the table by then, he wraps his arms around Eva and sweeps her into an embrace. He kisses her neck and says, “Sounds perfect to me, sweetums.” Eva is grinning wider than I am, and she’s not high.

Girls shoot us daggers as we leave the club, once on the street we’re just any other young, crazy foursome making their way through the streets on a weekend. We walk right past the sex shop and I see Jag inside behind the counter, he’s reading a spank mag, but I am pretty sure it really is for the articles. He doesn’t see me, but for a moment I have the overwhelming urge to run into the store, find my spot under the bright fluorescent lights in between the rubber cocks and flabby pocket pussies. Right back into my comfortable life where I fuck for fun with no strings attached and it feels like nothing is ever going to change. Right now I feel like things are about to change and I am terrified.

Then I see one of our messier disgusting old pervs reach for the handle and walk in, and that fleeting idea is gone. Ha, Jag’s going to have fun cleaning the booth tonight, and I’ve got two days off so there’s no chance of me having to be the one to do it.

I smile, feel Hush’s hand grab mine, and walk faster to keep up with the group.

“There is NO fucking way the Revolting Cocks would have ever fronted for the Sex Pistols, I don’t know why you suggest this every fucking time we play this game,” Hush yells at Diesel, only half kidding. They were in the middle of what is apparently a regular game for them...’build your perfect concert’.

“That’s my point, they wouldn’t open for them, they’d have to share the marquee, you daft fucking asshole,” Diesel shoots back.

“They’re not even the same ball field, how could you mix the two?” Hush argues back.

“Guys, guys, please,” Eva jumps in, “really, who gives a shit?” She laughs and I had to agree. It seemed like the kind of game designed just to argue for the sake of arguing.

“Come on, are you guys ready to order?” I asked, my stomach growling. I needed to eat, which was strange on X; generally I forgot to feed myself while I was riding high. I wonder if Serai sold me a bad batch. That would explain this raw feeling I have around Hush.

“Yup,” Hush answers, looking at me directly with those crazy amazing eyes. “I’m going for an Everything Omelet, sour dough toast, and a tea.”

My order, he’s ordering my favorite. Now I can’t get it, can I? What if he thinks I’m getting it just to be like him? Eva solves this problem for me by yelling, “That’s CRAZY! That’s what Jade gets every single time we come here.”

“Well, maybe not every single time,” I mumble and look at the menu. Now it’s going to be really obvious if I don’t order it. God I hate this social interaction shit. I should have fucked him in the bathroom, then I could be dancing my face off at some after hours warehouse on the east side by now.

“Name one time you ordered something else,” Eva kept on. “I dare you.”

“Uh, that time we were here twice in one night, I ordered a piece of pie the second time,” I reply in my lame defense.

“Ha, that doesn’t count. That was like dessert for the first meal,” Eva says, triumphant and obviously the clear winner in our own version of the ‘argue just to argue’ game.

“Well, I think it’s kinda cool that we like the same things,” Hush says. He winks and adds, “that just means there are a few things we both like, right?”

I blush and lock eyes with him. I fucking blush because I have the flash of his fingers deep inside of me where it felt natural and right. My pussy throbs, out here in the glaring bright lights of the Denny’s. I feel exposed in my lust but I don’t fucking care. I would drag him to the bathroom to feel those fingers again if I wasn’t so fucking hungry.

“Ok, I’m getting a waitress before these two start fucking on the table,” Diesel says, waving at a tired looking older woman bursting out of her brown Denny’s uniform. She sighs and shuffles over. She must hate the likes of us, but I admire her tenacity.

“Whaddayawant?” she asks, flipping open a notebook. She is a caricature of a bored waitress, but I didn’t want to offend her by telling her this. I wish I sketched so I could draw her right now, but even that artistic homage would be taken badly I’m sure.

“I’ll have the Everything Omelet with a-” I start to order but I’m cut off as I feel Hush’s fingers creeping over my thigh. Stay cool, come on, I need to force myself to finish. I clear my throat and continued, “a cup of tea.”

“Orange Pekoe or English Breakfast?” she asks as his fingers find the top of my thong and move it aside. My God his fingers are long and agile, and I can feel that rough callous on the tips, the little extra patch that sends my brain packing and lets my clit take over.

“Um, Uh,” I manage to get out. She sighs and closes her eyes as if praying for the strength to not smack me. “Orange Pekoe!” I say at last as his fingers find my wet folds.

“And you?” the waitress looks at Hush. He is sitting in the booth closest to her and he looks up with his flashy smile. She warms slightly when she sees his beautiful eyes and classic good looks, all-Canadian in spite of the mohawk.

“I’ll have the same as her,” he says and nods towards me, then passes her our menus with his free hand. I don’t know how Eva and Diesel are talking quietly to each other, or how the waitress isn’t asking us to leave; it feels like it should be completely obvious to everyone that I am being fingered under the table right now. I can’t concentrate, his fingers have found my clit and I can feel my pussy getting hotter and wetter by the second. I should have put a napkin on the seat before I sat down; he’s got me oozing as he flicks my clit.

The waitress takes the other two orders and leaves, luckily Eva and Diesel have gone back to nuzzling each other’s necks and don’t notice when I lean forward, my face flushed. I pick up the spoon and hold it in my fingers, rubbing the smooth curve with my thumb, matching his relentless rhythm.

“You are a magnificent little slut, aren’t you?” Hush leans over and whispers in my ear, I can feel his hot breath on my neck. I can’t reply, I’m about to gush on him for the second time that night and it feels like sacrilege to speak at the moment. I rub the spoon and stare at it intently, concentrating on his fingers, my clit. My vision narrows and that’s all that’s left of the world.

“Look at me,” he demands in my ear, and I do, I turn my head to obey him.

His piercing eyes lock on mine and I cannot look away. I am the deer, he is the headlight and we’re about to collide. I hit him hard, but I go completely still. On the outside I look like I’m staring into my lover’s eyes, I’m positively serene, on the inside I am a raving lunatic, tearing at my hair, frothing at the mouth and screaming his name at the top of my lungs. My performance is fucking Oscar worthy, and I want to drop dramatically into a bow and exit stage left when I finish with the smallest of shudders.

He slowly removes his fingers from my slit and pushes my thong back in place. He traces his wet fingers along my upper thigh, down to my knee, then brings his hand back to the top of the table and cups my face.

I can smell my scent on him, heady and organic. It turns me on again. I don’t stop throbbing. He leans his forehead against mine, our eyes are comically huge this close and at this perspective. I laugh and turn away, sucking his fingers into my mouth. I taste myself now, tangy and sweet, I slide my tongue along them and hear him groan. He leans towards my ear again and says, “I need to fuck you tonight,” in a low voice that reflects my own urgency.

I melt into him, practically swooning, and finally close my eyes. Hush kisses the top of my head and strokes my hair. I reach up and feel the fuzz of his shaved head, the wall of his mohawk still standing mostly on end this late night. It’s a painfully sweet intimate moment and somewhere inside of me I am on alert level red. Pull away, draw back, batten the hatches and shut the drawbridge. My body won’t react though, and I stay there pressed against him, feeling him breathe and pet my hair with fingers that smell like me.

“Oh look at the lovebirds, I told you they’d hit it off,” Eva interrupts at last. I didn’t know how I could have pulled myself away from the intoxicating closeness we had been sharing, so I thank her silently when we pull apart. I'm not used to this level of connection, especially with somebody I just met, and even more so with somebody that seemingly ticks all the boxes on my list outlining the "perfect guy." More than that, perfect guy by society’s standards, mohawk and all.

“You’ve got the soul of a matchmaker,” Diesel replies, kissing Eva’s hand. “You knew we were meant to be together, right?”

“Of course, and I couldn’t leave my poor girl out in the cold, right Jade?” she sticks her tongue out at me. “I wasn’t sure she was going to like you though, she’s been avoiding me ever since I mentioned it.”

“Oh, same with Hush here, he’s the virgin of our little group.” Diesel laughs. “He’s been with us a couple of months and we haven’t seen him use his rock God powers for good at all. I mean come on, what’s the point of having adoring fans lined up if you’re just going to go home alone?”

“Oh I think we were destined to find each other,” Hush smiles and looks at me, “she hunted me down all on her own, didn’t you babe?”

“I confess, I followed your fine ass all the way to the men’s room,” I say. It was weird, this feeling like we were doing something totally conventional, like double dating. “I couldn’t help myself...can’t help myself.” I hate how smug the three of them look so I add “It must be the X I took earlier,” just to dampen their moods. It doesn’t work and I feel like I’ve been sold in some auction I had no awareness of.

The tea shows up, then the food and we make quick work of it. I know I’m eating fast because I want to get home and fuck, I’m not sure about the others, but we’re probably all on the same page.

After Hush picks up the tab, we head into the street and walk a couple of blocks over to catch a cab. Eva and I occupy the second floor of a three-story heritage conversion off Main Street. It’s a really nice house, I could never afford it without Eva’s parent’s money, but I’ve learned to swallow my pride years ago. Without her I’d be taking the train in from Surrey to my shitty job instead of taking a fifteen-minute bus ride to get downtown.

The four of us pile into the back of the taxi that stops, we give the driver our address and settle in. It’s crowded and it’s going to take twice as long to make it home, we make small talk with the driver until Eva and Diesel fall into each other’s arms and start making out next to me. Us girls are in the middle, the guys on the outside. I can feel Eva wiggling her ass next to mine as she grinds against Diesel. I lean away from her, to the right, and end up pressing myself even harder against Hush. God I love this man, his hard body fits mine so perfectly, there’s none of the awkward crashing of limbs or the painful cramping that often comes with embracing a new person. We are maybe meant to be together, at least for a little while.

He leans over me and kisses the top of my head, I tilt up to face him and he catches my breath as he pushes down on me, kissing me hard. He bites my lower lip and holds the back of my head with his hand, the other arm envelopes me as his tongue finds mine. I go limp, pretty much swooning again, what the fuck? Most of my sex occurs with the Pretty Woman rule in mind, no kissing, and I’m like a sexual stage director, I am always in charge of where things go. Here I am letting him kiss me, hold me, caress me like I’m his fucking girlfriend.

I want to be his girlfriend, and I hate this. I hate this lack of control. But I want him, I want to fuck him, to love him, to submit to him and see where this will all take us.

At our place he pays the driver and we head upstairs. I don’t even remember the walk up, the moment we’re inside we separate, Eva and Diesel off to her room in the back of her house, and Hush and I to mine, at the front off the living room. I know we leave a trail of clothes as we edge towards my door, our lips sealed together like two starving creatures seeking sustenance.

Finally we get there, I kick my door closed with my foot as we pass through and we pull apart. We stand there looking at each other, he’s been inside of me twice now, fingered my pussy in public, made me whine like a bitch in heat, and suddenly I feel shy.

“I want you down,” he says, taking the pressure off me. I’m relieved that he’s taken charge, but I narrow my eyes and look at him. Should I do it immediately, or make him work for it a little.

Fuck, of course I’ll make him work for it. Even with Disney bluebirds flying around my head as I crush on my perfect punk rock God, as much as I crave his cock and want to run my hands over his hard stomach, I have to make him work for it. It’s in my nature.

“What do you mean?” I say and blink rapidly, doing my best impression of a dumb blonde.

He moves towards me and towers over my short frame. I’m so hot for him that I will definitely do anything he wants, but I need to struggle a little, for my last shred of dignity. “You know exactly what I mean,” he replies, his voice low and thick with lust.

“I’m not sure, down where?” I blink again and suppress a giggle.

“So you want it like this, do you?” he replies. “I can’t say I’m surprised.” He grabs my wrists and looks me in the eye. “If you feel like I am overwhelming you at any time, yell fencepost and I’ll stop.”

“You mean our safe word?” I laugh. He’s not kidding though, I see that immediately after.

“Yes, our safe word,” he pushes me to my knees before I can react. I gasp at the speed in which he has me on the floor. His hand still encircles my wrists, I feel tiny in his grasp.

“Fencepost?” he asks me, his eyebrows raised with a sardonic twist to his lips. I think he wants me to back out, but of course I won’t, I can’t.

I look at him from on my knees, I make sure to look up through my eyelashes to enhance my features and deliberately say, “Not even close.”

“Good,” he replies and uses his free hand to unbutton his jeans and lower the zipper deliberately, painfully slow. I am impressed at this skill and realize I am about to finally see his cock. I am almost drooling in anticipation as he wiggles slightly and pulls it out.

In every woman’s mind when she’s about to see a man’s cock for the first time, there’s a point where she starts to worry about it. I know size apparently doesn’t matter, but give me a thick slab of meat any day of the week honestly. It might just be me, but I’m always worried I’ll be stuck with a little dick every time I get naked with somebody new. It’s worse if you like him, you pray to whatever God you are calling out to that night that he’ll have a good one, just in case you end up riding it more than a few nights.

Thank you Jeebus. It is magnificent.

He releases my wrists and I wrap my hands around the throbbing flesh, drinking in the sight of his dick. It’s got to be almost nine inches, and so thick I can barely get a hand around the base. He’s cut, the head is a luscious pink that’s begging to be kissed, and I am dying to wrap my lips around it, to see how much of it I can take. Fuck, I love a challenge.

But I want him to make me. I look up at him, at this angle he is even more delicious, he is commanding and almost intimidating, but I suddenly want him to be forceful.

I know I must look amazing from his point of view, I might look like a lame fucking creeper when I’m trying to flirt, but I know I look incredible when I’m ready to fuck.

“What do you want me to do with it?” I ask him from under my lashes.

Hush laughs. “You really do want to play, don’t you?” He grabs the back of my head and pulls my face to his cock. I can’t help myself, I open my mouth and close my eyes, I want to taste him, to eat him up. He grips my hair and gives me a small shake, I open my eyes and look up questioningly, poised a hair’s width from his cock head. “I want to see your eyes when you suck me like a nasty whore,” he says and caresses my jaw line with his other hand. “I want to see you get so hot that you’re ready to beg me to fuck your pussy, so leave your eyes open, babe.”

“Ok,” I whisper, lick my lips and let him impale my face on his cock. I choke, I mean I fucking love cock sucking, I’m almost a pro, but he gags me with his girth. This is a totally different level, I’ve never had my lips stretched so wide, and I get a thrill race through my body thinking about him splitting my pussy lips with this bad boy.

I relax and force my throat to open, I almost feel Zen in my calm acceptance of his control, he holds my head still so I am unable to wiggle away or back up off his cock. He is fucking my face, a steady rhythm that I handle like a five-dollar hooker. I look up at him, he is staring at me with his eyes alight, lust burns there. I reach up and tug at his shirt, slide my hands underneath and feel his hard abs; his body is out of this world. I tug his shirt up and he gets the hint.

“You want this off?” he asks and smiles. “How bad? If I strip for you, are you going to strip for me?”

I nod my reply and try to squeeze some words out around him; it’s the best I can do with him filling my mouth with his thickness. With a cock in your mouth, you speak only in vowels and gestures. He slides the tee shirt over his body and tosses it somewhere behind him. I am rewarded with the sight of his incredible body, out of this world, the best I’ve had the pleasure of being attached to. I was right, his tattoos encircle his pecs, beautiful black outlines with some bright colour. A Phoenix from mythology wraps around his ribcage, the fiery feathers edging down along the side of him, and disappear into his pants. I tug at the waistband, slide my mouth off his cock and tease, “Come on, aren’t these getting a little too tight?”

“I like your enthusiasm,” he teases back and pulls them down to kick them off. He’s apparently commando tonight, but if I had a dick that impressive, I don’t think I’d want it caged either. Actually, if I had that between my legs, I’d probably whip it out and show people on a continuous basis...when I wasn’t hiding in my room playing with it that is.

Our intermission is over, his face become fierce with concentration, he puts a hand back behind my head and drags me down onto his shaft. I no longer gag on his huge member when the head hits me deep in my throat. Like a sword swallowing sideshow freak, I am enjoying the theatrics of this performance. I moan and wiggle my ass, I wish I could be filled from both ends, but only want him, if only I could clone him.

He moves his hips faster, pushing himself in and out of me, he grasps a handful of hair, as much as he can get, and pins me against his cock. My mouth is so full I can barely breathe. I manage to get air through my nostrils as saliva and pre-cum ooze down my chin. I am on fire, electric current travels from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I can almost visualize my body’s response to his domination of me. I am his whore, his slut, his bitch and his Goddess, on my bare knobby knees in my bedroom. He has become the master, taking over my space and my body, and I never want him to go.

And that scares me. How normal this seems, how little I want to struggle and how much I want him to use me, to mess me up and destroy me...then pick me up and pull me back together in his arms. I run my hands up and down the backs of his calves, his legs are solid muscle and I feel them quiver with each movement, he’s keeping his balance as he prepares to shoot his load into me, my first taste of his cum.

I can’t break eye contact. He is breathing heavily, and although it feels like it’s been like this forever, I know it’s only been a few moments. I feel smug at how quickly he’s going to explode, how much he must want me, but a little embarrassed at how much I want him, how desperate I am to taste him.

“Oh fuck Jade, I want to fill you with my cum,” he rasps suddenly. “I want to see you crawling on your hands and knees, wrecked and exhausted, all your holes dripping…” He tenses up and I feel his balls tighten, I grab them in one hand and cradle them gently as he presses himself against my face, I smell sweat and a musky, masculine scent, it turns me on as much as him face fucking me.

He pulls out suddenly, grabs his dick and starts stroking it. I reach up to draw it back in my mouth, but he loosens his grip from the back of my head and knocks my hands away. “Take off your shirt, let me see your tits,” he commands, his breathing ragged. I wiggle slowly out of my tee shirt, a snake-like motion, and slide it over my head. Fuck this is hot. I usually hate this part, the grand reveal of my less than adequate body. The look on his face as he watches me and masturbates is enough to inject me with all kinds of crazy confidence. This punk rock Disney prince wants to fuck me, and he wants it bad. Sexual desire kicks insecurity out the back door and I move like a fucking pole dancer.

Hush puts one hand on my shoulder and I watch his perfect face as he resumes his frenzied motion. His eyes are intense, locked on mine, and I feel glorious under his scrutiny. I reach up and cup his balls. I roll them gently in the palm of my hand and feel like the most powerful woman in the world right now, I am the centre of his world. I move forward and open my lips and poke my tongue out as if in communion. He doesn’t shove his cock back in my mouth though. He keeps jerking his rock hard shaft and keeps me a few inches away from it. I know he is going to cover me with his cum at any moment, and I want to help him get there. I take one finger and slide it into my mouth, cover it with hot saliva and the remains of his precum. He draws in a sharp breath and says “You are so fucking sexy, I am going to take my time with you after this, have you sobbing my name by the morning. It will be the only thing you know how to say. I’m gonna have you wiggling underneath me so many times you won’t know where your cunt ends and my cock begins.”

I believe him. I smile, and suck my finger again, adding extra lubrication, and reach around to finger his ass. He tenses when I find his entrance and loosens up as I work my forefinger inside. I cup his ass cheek in my hand and curl my finger at just to right angle to work his prostate. I am dying to have his cum inside of me any way I can, so I open wide and slide my mouth onto his cock once more, pulling him deep into the back of my throat with the finger up his ass. His entire body goes stiff, I can feel his muscles bulge, rock hard, he quivers and I know this is the release. My tension is so high at the moment that I convince myself I can feel his pleasure. Warm waves of orgasm travel from my pussy and I have to concentrate on his twitching cock so I don’t fall back with my eyes rolling in their sockets. He thrusts and grunts his finish, and I moan with him. I already want to sob his name and his cock hasn’t even met my pussy yet. What the fuck have I signed myself up for? I watch his face relax, he rubs his hand over his head and he laughs. I’m so startled I pull away and ask, “What’s so funny?” He doesn’t respond and I’m left there, half naked, cum running down my chin and my finger still up his ass. I reach the point where I’m almost feeling nervous when he looks down again and rubs the top of my head.

“Oh Jade, my fucking God, that was…” he pauses, runs his finger along my jaw line and continues “most definitely not funny. I needed that, it was such a release.” I am relieved and pull my finger slowly from his ass; he reaches down and helps me up.

“I thought you were losing your mind,” I say, “and I didn’t know if that was a good thing.”

“Oh, it is a good thing, and maybe you do make me a little crazy,” he replies and wraps his arms around me. “It’s a very good thing.”

“I need a drink, can I bring you something?” I ask, looking for a reason to go wash my stink finger.

“Vodka?” he asks and I nod yes as I leave. He’s pulling his socks off and heading towards my bed as I shut the door.

I make it to the bathroom without running into Eva and Diesel. The apartment is dark and quiet with just the faint bass of a television from the downstairs neighbor. Mr. McAdams, he must have fallen asleep with the late night news on again. The world feels normal out here, away from Hush. Even with the remains of the X in my veins tingeing the edges of things with a soft light, I can harden myself against the craziness that ensued so far. This is where I normally check the fuck out, but I broke one of my cardinal rules, never bring a dude back to your place. Fuck. I can’t run out, half naked, with nowhere to go. Besides, he’s Diesel’s best friend, it’s not like I can pretend I don’t speak English if I happen across him again in a year or two. Oh yeah, that doesn’t work by the way.

I walk to the bathroom, wash my hands and splash some cold water on my face. I examine myself in the mirror and like the way I look, my lips are plump from the blowjob and my face glows with the sexual energy that’s been streaking through my body since the bathroom at the club. Any resolve I might have fades as I think about the things he’s already done to me, his hard body, his thick cock, the mohawk and beautiful tats. The last of it leaves my body when my clit starts throbbing in anticipation of the things he will do to me.

I jog on the spot like a prizefighter and take a couple of quick jabs with my fist. I catch my shitty upper cut in the mirror and realize that dude's Hulk Chick would have fucking creamed me. Hush saved my life. I psyche myself up to go face him as I realize there’s no way I’m getting out of this one, so I accept my fate and go back to my room.

Hush is stretched out on my bed in all his glory, his unbelievable body waiting for me, to consume me and drag me through depravity. I pose with my arms out and say "Ta-daa," then realize I forgot the drinks. Dammit. I hope he doesn't notice. To distract him I tear off my bra and reach for my skirt. He sits up and says, “Hold on, slow down...I want to enjoy the show.”

“Oh, I think we can fast forward through this part,” I plead. After walking through the apartment, I’ve lost my sexual heat and my nerve. I hate getting naked in front of anyone.

“No, babe, come here and let me help you with that,” he replies, his voice husky. I can see his cock growing harder as I walk towards him.

“So you like this,” I say and slow down, getting back into the mood of our earlier encounter. I sway my hips and watch him watching me, his interest and obvious growing passion encourages me, and my typical self-consciousness falls away like my discarded bra.

Hush reaches for me and pulls me closer, he hooks his finger into the top of my skirt and helps me slide it slowly over my hips, it falls to the floor. My torn tights follow and I bend down to pull them off my feet while he slides my thong down with a growing urgency. He slaps my ass as I’m bent over and says, “Turn around for me.”

“Bend over?” I ask, a little confused at what he has in store.

“Yes, bend over,” he replies and smacks my ass again.

I comply, turn my back to him and bend over, holding my ankles. I don’t know exactly what to expect, but I brace myself for anything. I’m up for anything if he is. He spreads my ass cheeks wide and buries his face in my crack. I move my feet wider to open myself to him. His tongue works my pussy; he jams it into my hole and wiggles it around in a circle. He licks my clit up and down, long, slow draws of his tongue across my sensitive bump. I moan and my pussy contracts, quivers, I’m a heartbeat away from gushing. Hush pulls back and I hear him spit, he wiggles a finger into my ass and starts fucking it with vigor. I feel him add his thumb to my pussy and he holds me like a six-pack…and I really fucking like it.

I lean back against him, pressing my cunt and ass against his hand. I don’t bother to stifle my cry, fuck it, I’m cumming and I want the world to know it. I pant and say his name, moan and thrash my head like I’m having a fit. I feel my pussy and anus clench tight around his fingers, and he stops movement, I hear him jerking his cock with his fingers inside of me. “You are so fucking sexy like this,” he rasps and I respond by finishing, a gush of fluid on his hand. I almost drop, but he supports me, his hold on me is still firm. As I relax, feeling my muscles slow down their twitching, I pull myself off of him. My brain is running a thousand miles a minute, but I am struck without the power of speech. My knees feel weak. I stand and slowly turn around. He’s got a huge grin on his face, his legs are wide apart and he’s still seated on the edge of my bed.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, stepping towards him.

“I would have bet that would have you crying ‘fencepost’,” he replies, still smiling.

“Oh, you don’t know me, then,” I reply and push him back onto the bed. His cock stands at attention and I work my way up the bed towards him on my hands and knees. “You don’t know me at all.” I say and straddle his hips, sliding my sopping wet pussy down his shaft, as his grin disappears and his intensity returns.

“I want to,” he says and grabs my waist with two hands. “I want to very badly” he continues and thrusts himself up inside of me, stabbing me with his hard cock and his desperate intentions.

“I want you to,” I tell him, not knowing where this is coming from. I want to know him, I want him to know me, I want to explore this togetherness, this possibility. His thrusting picks up speed and I grab his pecs to balance myself, or I feel like I’ll tip over. His pecs feel good, damn good, how does he keep himself this ripped without living in a gym? I stare at his tattoos as he’s thrusting, the moving muscle makes them undulate, the tribal patterns and mythical beasts move and quiver with each thrust. It makes everything feel otherworldly, this entire night has been like that. What the fuck did Sarai give me? I wonder and thank my lucky stars I didn’t go home with Hulk Chick’s boyfriend.

I’m going to cum again, and I can feel that he is close. He grips my waist hard, almost painfully, and says “Wait for me, I want to finish together.” I nod and lean forward, look into his eyes. His Disney prince, movie star eyes. God this man is perfect. Even his limp mohawk splayed across my comforter looks perfect, he’s a fucking rock God and I am worshipping his cock.

“I will,” I tell him. “I can’t wait long though, your cock is ripping me apart, shredding everything I thought I knew and sending me over the edge,” I blurt, I’m fucking poetic when I’m inspired by such hotness.

“Oh, babe, I’m there,” he gasps and thrusts upwards one last time, gripping my waist and pulling me down. I can feel the head of his cock hit my cervix hard, it sends a shockwave of impact through my pelvis and pushes me far into my orgasm. I feel full, complete, and I hang onto his body like I’m going to fly away if I don’t. Fireworks explode in my mind, and electric waves of pleasure shoot along my limbs. I am on fire, pure liquid ecstasy. I pant and moan and grind my pelvis against him, I can feel his cock twitch and my pussy tighten around it. His load explodes inside of me, a warm viscosity spreading in my pussy and mixing with my own gushing fluid.

I drop onto his chest, his cock slowly goes limp inside of me and my cunt slows down its frantic clenching and twitches. I fit on top of him perfectly, our sweaty bodies melding together with the top of my head just under his chin. He blows some of my hair out of his face and wraps his arms around me. I float in a little ocean of bliss, and somewhere deep inside of me, the cynical, aloof part of me is screaming to retreat. This is abnormal behaviour for me, most of the time I’d be half dressed by now and shaking his hand on my way out. I don’t want to stop touching Hush though, I want to stay wrapped up in his arms, feeling his heart pound through his gorgeous muscled body, and fall into the rhythm of his breath as it slows and becomes steady. I think he’s falling asleep.

“Hey,” I say and smack his arm, jolting him awake.

“Oh shit, sorry babe, I drifted off there,” he says, his voice already thick with fatigue. “What time is it anyways?”

“You’re such a lightweight,” I smile at him. “It’s only...hang on, let me get my phone.” I jump off the bed and reach for my purse. Holy shit, it’s 4:38 now. “Uh, it’s not that bad,” I tell him. “It’s almost five.”

“Fuck, are you kidding?” he says and sits straight up in bed. “Where’s Diesel?”

“Uh, I assume he’s with Eva,” I reply. “What’s the hurry, do you turn into a fucking pumpkin or something?”

“I, uh, I have to be somewhere,” he tells me, but I know he’s lying about something.

My walls immediately go up, the drawbridge withdraws and the gates slam shut. He’s lying to me about something. Does he have a girlfriend?

“Uh huh,” I say and open my dresser drawer to find my cozy pyjamas. Looks like this is taking a turn for the worse, I might as well cuddle up with my extra pillow and forget this ever happened.

He stands up and walks to my side. “Listen,” he says, “we have rehearsal at ten. If we show up late one more time, the studio is going to stop renting us the space. It’s important.” He pulls me into his embrace before I can grab anything, so our naked bodies end up melded together again. I release a deep sigh and rest my head on his chest.

“Ok…it’s ok. I have a tendency to overreact,” I say, letting myself open up a teeny tiny bit, once I go into emotional lock down, it takes a lot to drag me out. “It’s a bad habit of mine.”

“Have you been hurt before?” he asks and rubs his hand up and down my back. I shiver and can’t help the heat building in my pussy. His touch is magic to me, it’s fucking insane.

“I don’t get hurt,” I tell him, “I keep myself closed off so I don’t have to go through shit like that.”

“Ah, I see, you keep your walls high,” he smiles and holds me against him. He kisses the top of my head and says “Don’t worry, babe, I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

I want to believe him, I really do. I want to let myself go with him and feel everything my body is aching to feel. But I can’t, somewhere inside, that part of me that grew up with an alcoholic mother, who can spot a lie at a thousand yards...well, that part of me won’t shut the fuck up. Something’s not right here, and I know it.

But I don’t care, not right now. I’ll keep my guard up, but I can’t say no to this man. I need to have more of him, inside of me, on me. I need to wake up next to him, to smell like him, to wear his over sized tee shirt while we make scrambled eggs in the morning. I am craving living out one of my Plenty of Fish relationship fantasies, and I can’t help myself.

I snuggle into the embrace, inhale the scent of him, of us, and say, “I believe you.”

Chapter Four

Chai Tea and Playing it Cool

I breeze into work a few minutes early the shift after I met Hush. I am still walking a foot off the ground. Pathetic, right? I basically slept all day yesterday, I woke up occasionally to think about Hush and rub one off before going back to sleep. At around five I heard my phone buzz and rolled over to grab it, my heart doing a little jump. I was rewarded with a text from Hush. He was all like “hey babe, I can still smell you on my fingers, when’s the next time? xoxox”

I hate that he could make or break my day. I didn’t reply though, I remember Eva’s success with men, how ignoring them seems to work. Then again, I always ignore men afterwards and they don’t chase me at all. I decided I’d send him a message from work, where I was safe from the desperation of begging him over to fuck me right then and there.

“Hey Jag,” I say to my surprised boss. “What? Can’t a girl come in early for a change?” I smile; the look on his face is worth me being here ahead of time. If I am being honest, I might admit that I came in early because I’m dying to text Hush the moment my shift starts. But I’m not generally honest to myself, so I’ll just pretend traffic was good and there was nobody on the bus today.

“Holy shit, I don’t think you’ve ever been on time, let alone early,” Jag exclaims when he sees me, then he narrows his eyes suspiciously and adds, “You know I can’t give you a raise, right?”

“Holy shit, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear!” I laugh in reply, “And no, I’m not angling for a raise. Traffic was good today, that’s all.”

He gives me another sidelong glance and shakes his head. He doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t care. He grabs his stuff and makes to leave. He pauses at the door, looks back at me and says, “You're not high, are you? If you are, you’d better not let anyone rip you off.”

“I’m not high, I swear,” I say, mentally shoving him out the door so I can text in peace. “And you know me, even if I were as high as a fucking kite, I’m not letting anyone rip me off. Now go home, your wife is probably waiting for you right now.”

He sighs, looks at his watch and says, “I don’t like this, you seem weird, but there’s nobody else to cover you…just don’t mess up.” The buzzer sounds as he opens the door and leaves at last.

I love the night shift, Jag hates it, so it works out well. I’m working ten to six tonight, it’s more than the legal eight hours, and he doesn’t pay me overtime, but I’m cool with that. He basically gives me free rein to do what I want, and as long as the register doesn’t come up short, he asks no questions.

Usually I study while I’m on shift, my other secret kept from Eva. She thinks I hate school as much as she does, but I’m starting to rethink things as I get a little older. As much as I appreciate this job, I don’t want to be mopping up jizz when I’m a grandma. If I have kids I mean, I’m still not convinced I’m a breeder.

Education is a scary prospect though, given my history. I never did graduate from high school, but if I want to go into anything at all I’ll need it, so I’ve been studying for my GED. That’s right, I know I’m pathetic, studying for my GED in the middle of a sex shop, hiding it from Eva and running from my feelings for Hush. I’m an enigma wrapped in a mystery all bundled up in a box of fucking fail. In spite of my near photographic memory, I’m sure I’ll fail, but I’ll find out soon enough. I take the test in four weeks.

Tonight however, I can’t read a fucking thing. The characters on the page swim in front of me, my brain has been taken hostage by my pussy and I am trying to come up with the best reply to Hush that the world has ever known.

Failing. Again.

Fuck. What do I say to the perfect punk who kicked the door to my heart off its hinges and is lying to me about something?

I sit and ponder this, ring in this perv’s dildo purchase, and finally grab my phone.

I type, “Hey, how about soon?”

It’s short, not so sweet and betrays my pussy’s throbbing need for his cock.

Immediately my phone buzzes. “There you are, babe. How about now?”

I read it a few times to make sure I’m seeing this. Perfect Disney prince wants me now, and fuck yes, I want him too.

“Excuse me, do you have any larger jars of Anal Bliss lube?” A well-dressed lawyer type rudely interrupts me. He has a dog collar around his neck and looks like he’s in for a wild Sunday night.

“Yeah, on the same rack you found that, but we keep it on the bottom,” I snicker, he laughs and walks to the back of the store.

I think for a moment and reply to Hush: “at work, u?”

Instant response again: “Jerking it thinking about u babe. ;) where you work?”

I type: “Sex shop on Granville.”

“The Kitten?” Oh shit, this guy knows his stuff.

“No.”

“The Pink Box?” Oh yuck, he really knows his stuff. I wonder if he has ever been a customer in here, not while I’ve been on shift, I would have remembered him.

“No.” I’m not going to make it easy for him.

“The Drake.” Uh, that’s a strip club. I’m oddly flattered that he thinks I might be a dancer.

“No.”

“The Pussy Willow.” Shit, I knew it was a matter of time, but that’s me.

“Yup.”

“Cool, I’ll see you in a few. You want anything?”

My heart leaps into my throat. Fucking leaps. God I hate this total lack of control, I feel like smoothing my hair and adjusting my skirt, then running to the bathroom to do my makeup. I want to run around the store squealing like a fangirl, hug the perv in the lawyer suit and call all my friends. Well, friend. Tell her all about this. How he’s coming to see me, no games, he knows what he wants.

And he wants me.

“A Chai Latte from Starbucks.”

“Sure thing babe.”

Here’s the thing. I’ve never had a boyfriend. Ever. I know, big shock, but this whole relationshippy thing doesn’t sit well with me. Eva is the only person I’ve ever had a long-term thing with, and that’s not sexual. I mean I even dumped my own mom the moment Eva asked me to move in with her. We were sixteen and her parents had finally had enough. They love her and adore her and throw all kinds of mad money at her, but they’re also older and live in a nice neighborhood. People in their world don’t like the kinds of guys Eva and I were hanging around with. The last straw was the morning Eva pulled up on the back of a Harley hanging onto the back of some Hell’s Angel reject without her shoes or pants. Fuck, that was a wild weekend, but it just so happened their retired heart surgeon neighbor was walking his three thousand dollar French bulldog and caught a good look at it all. It was hard on them at the Point Grey Golf and Country Club as well, fifty grand a year and their precious daughter couldn’t keep her hands off the staff. Eva’s mother couldn’t handle another complaint or scandal, so they decided to rent her the apartment of her choosing and offer her an allowance, as long as she went home for dinner once a week.

Eva’s parents were pushing her towards a condo on False Creek, but Eva and I had found our place in the Georgia Straight classifieds and it was love at first sight. I am not working under any delusions here, I know I’m completely riding on Eva’s coat tails, but I try to contribute any way I can. Generally this means bringing her treats from work, Eva’s got the craziest sex toy collection of anyone I know, well, except for me. Her parents love me though, and they don’t mind footing the bill for both of us really. They see more in me than my own mom ever did, and although I’m grateful for their support, it feels fucked up in a way that mom is fine with me being gone.

The best thing about this arrangement is that I’m able to save my wages, well, most of them, and squirrel them away in mutual funds and investment accounts while I wait for the day for the free ride to end.

I’m not stupid. I know this can’t last forever. I don’t know when or how, but one of us is going to have to move on at some point. I don’t know how she’s going to react when she finds out I’m going to college for example, she might not want to share me with higher learning.

I’ll never be like my mother though. I can’t be. Growing up I don’t know how many times we moved because she couldn’t pay the rent, or her boyfriend of the month got sick of her boozy ways and bratty kid hanging around. Being booted meant moving to a cheap hotel in East Vancouver, or worse, shacking up with her old boyfriend, my pedo “uncle” Albert. I will never allow myself to be in that situation again. I need safety and security, and for me that means money.

I think about all the things that will eventually take Eva from me. She falls in love, she wants to get married, she moves to the country. It’s almost like a game I play, imagining what will end our current situation. I’ve been lucky so far, it’s lasted longer than I ever thought it would.

I suddenly clue in to the fact that lawyer suit hasn’t come back up to the front. Fuck, this never bodes well, when a perv is looking for lube and doesn’t surface in twenty minutes or less. I call out, “Hey, dude, did you ever find the lube?”

Silence greets me. I walk from behind the counter to the lube section, he’s not there but I can see the gap where the giant tub of Anal Bliss was residing until a little while ago. I stop and listen, sometimes I’ll catch one of the pervs jerking off in the aisle, but this time I don’t hear the tell tale squish squish tug tug of a man and his extra large tub of Anal Bliss. I get a sinking feeling in my stomach as I walk towards the booths at the back. If he’s unleashed inside a booth, clean up is going to be a bitch. How many times do I have to point out the fucking “no merchandise beyond this spot” sign to these fucking depraved assholes?

And I hear it…that tell tale squishy sound, the video playing, and his grunt and dirty talk. Sometimes I hate this job because it almost turns me off dirty talk...luckily when I’m in the swing of things, pussy takes over and brain is left shuddering in the back corner of my skull, so dirty talk is good when I’m involved.

It’s not good now. He’s panting and I hear him say, “Oh fuck yes, take it from Daddy, take it you little anal slut, spread your cheeks, feel my cock tear into-”

I knock on the door and break into his little soliloquy. “Excuse me, Sir? You haven’t paid for your Anal Bliss yet.”

He doesn’t answer, fuck, like I don’t know he’s in there.

I knock again. “Sir, you’ll have to pay for that before you can use it.”

“Uh, ok, but I’m not using anything in here,” he replies, sounding really freaked out. That’s good, I want them freaked out, it keeps them on edge and their cocks in their pants.

“If you say so. Either way you’ll have to come to the front. I’ll give you two minutes to clean up and pay for it.”

“Ok Miss, I’ll be right out.”

I head back to the front of the store, to my perch, and wait. Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, lawyer suit comes skulking up to the front like I’ve scolded him. Fuck, I hope he’s not into that. I don’t fancy starring in his wank fest tonight.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbles and looks at his feet. True to his word, the tub of lube doesn’t appear to have been opened. Thank God, it’s so gross when you go to scan a sex product and find a pube hovering on the edge. I ring it in, he pays, and takes the bag I hand him.

He hesitates an looks at me like a sad puppy. The dog collar doesn’t help. “I was supposed to jerk off before I came home,” he said. “I didn’t get to finish, I’ll be in trouble.”

Oh fuck, this is part of some weird sex game.

“I didn’t tell you not to wank it,” I said. “I’m just following store policy, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, I kinda like being in trouble,” he smiles and walks out.

As he leaves, Hush comes in, grinning from ear to ear and carrying my hot chai.

“Hey babe, I got your drink,” he says, sounding almost as excited as I feel.

I could kiss him right now, thankfully it’s a Sunday night so the shop is dead, so I do. I take my chai and the brown paper bag of goodies he brought a long, set them on the counter, and lean towards him. With me up behind the register, we’re about eye to eye, my dark green ones staring into those amazing eyes of his. I am so into him it’s gross. I want to fucking strip him naked and suck his cock right now. This is going to be a long night. I grab his shirt and pull him close, his mohawk is still bright green, but he’s got it smoothed back into a ponytail down his back. I smile and say, “Hey” back at him, then take his lower lip in my teeth and suck.

He breathes in sharply and slides his tongue into my mouth when I let go. He wraps his muscular arms around me and holds me against him. I can feel his hard body and bulging muscles. He’s already rock hard and lets me know it by pressing his cock against my body. I reach down and stroke him through his jeans, savouring the length and width of him. I need him inside of me, I need to leave my logical brain in the dust and let my pussy control my body for a while. My pussy, and my heart. I want to let go with him, to ride his bed and his cock, to bite him and suck him and love him.

My God he is perfect. I moan and undulate against his cock, grind my pelvis against him and hear him groan.

“I almost forgot how fucking hot you are,” he says through gritted teeth. “I want to slide my cock into you right now, I can’t wait. I need your cunt.”

“I’m at work, in case you haven’t noticed,” I say but do a quick inventory of places we could fuck. Definitely not the booths. Maybe an aisle because it’s not a busy night. The bathroom? It’s kinda gross, but probably the cleanest place in here because it’s staff only.

“I know but I don’t care. I’ve been thinking about you since I left. I can’t get you out of my mind, it nearly drove me mad when you didn’t get back to me,” he confesses. He’s been thinking of me? I feel a wave of warm satisfaction rush through my body at this.

“Me too,” I say. “I was trying to play it cool.” I laugh.

“Don’t ever play with me,” he says, running his hands all over my body. “There’s no need to. I’m here, I want you, you want me, let’s just enjoy this.”

I’m almost frantic with need. I have to feel his cock ramming into me, so I say, “I know where we can go,” against his crushing lips. I don’t know if he understood me because he keeps kissing me for a moment longer.

He lifts me up, I wrap my legs around him and he steps back.

“Where to, m’lady?” he breaths against my neck. I giggle at this.

“There’s a bathroom down this aisle, that door at the back,” I say, pointing at the back of the store.

“A bathroom?” he growls, “Why don’t I take you right here? I’ll spread your pussy and suck you dry in front of the world,” he says and I wonder if he’s serious. I think he’s serious.

“And in front of the security cameras. I have a pretty good boss but I’m sure he’d fire my horny ass if he saw that.” I reply and laugh at the thought of Jag going over the footage tomorrow morning.

“Bathroom it is then,” he agrees and carries me to it. I jump down when we get there and use my key to gain entrance. Jag is sure to see this on camera, and he’ll know what we were up to, but he can’t prove anything. If there’s one thing I do well, it’s clean up after sex...or masturbation if you want to be technical about it.

I flick the switch and the fluorescent lights flicker on one by one, then hum happily as we enter.

The bathroom is bare, just the toilet and a single sink hanging off the wall. There’s a cracked mirror over the sink and a small cabinet with cleaning products next to this. I don’t know how we’re going to manage this, but I need to feel him inside of me, like five minutes ago.

I grab his zipper and unleash the beast. “Oh, commando again, I like that,” I say and wrap my hand around the shaft, as much as will fit.

“All the better to fuck you with, my dear,” he says, pulling me tight and nibbling my neck. I squeal and push my hands against him, but he won’t let me get far. He pulls me back and kisses me fiercely. I tug on his dick while we kiss, languidly slide my hand up and down his shaft, work the head, and feel him pump against my hand. I am quickly becoming addicted to this instant reaction from him. The more I let my guard down, the more I am rewarded with his attention. This is a dangerous game to play, somewhere I fear I’m going to get burned, but I can’t let go.

I only have one urgent thought, him inside of me at last. I lift one leg up like a fucking gymnast, I hook it around his waist, I pull my thong to the side and open myself fully to him. I feel his cock head at my entrance, demanding to be drawn in. I don’t know which one of us is pulling harder as we grasp at each other’s bodies in a perfect unison of desperate want. I slide down his shaft, I feel it hit the end of me. My cervix will be bruised tomorrow.

We pause for half a heartbeat, I can hear us breathing hard, and I can feel his pulse in his engorged cock. I close my eyes and sigh, I make a small noise, a whimper really, and the action starts.

We are banging in every way possible. He’s grunting and pounding into me while I reach for something to hang onto. My hand falls back onto the wall, I slap it and grasp for support. I find the sink and somehow I end up with my ass on it, my head is bumping against the mirror behind it, and I barely notice a fucking thing. I’m all cock, pussy, fuck, bite, cum at the moment, Godzilla could foot stomp the store outside the bathroom and I wouldn’t hear it.

Which is why I didn’t hear the knocking on the door until Hush and I are coming down off the high of our shared orgasm. My pussy is still shuddering and he has his face buried in my neck when I clue in that there’s somebody on the other side of the door. We pull apart, our needs sated for the time being.

“Oh shit,” I say and straighten my skirt. I splash some water on my face and smooth my hair.

Hush laughs and says, “Sorry babe, I hope I don’t get you fired.”

“Pull up your pants, I need to go sell porn.” I reply with a grin, and wash my hands. I should get Jag a sign in here, one of those “Employees Must Wash Their Hands” dealies. I chuckle thinking of his confusion.

A couple of seconds later, I open the door and find lawyer suit standing there, bag of lube in hand. I fucking hope he’s not going to try and return it. Gross, the weird shit people try to return will never fail to astound me.

“What’s up?” I ask him, ignoring his wide eyes when he sees Hush behind me. “I hope you saw the sign earlier, no returns dude.”

“Um, uh…it’s, um, not that...” he stutters, clearly unsettled by the obvious fucking that had been going on. I’m sure he heard us, but seeing Hush in all his tattooed, punk rock glory probably threw him off his game. Whatever sad, little game he has going on.

“Spit it out son, we don’t have all night,” Hush says. I laugh; lawyer suit has at least a decade on Hush.

“Well, the thing is I need to buy something else,” he finally says. He shoves his phone in my face and I read the texts from somebody called “Master.” Lawyer suit is apparently supposed to pick up a ponytail butt plug. I hand the phone back and put on my professional porn peddler face.

“Ok, you are looking for a butt plug, but one specifically designed for pony play?” I ask in a smooth, calm voice.

He nods, so I continue. “We have a couple of different models, come with me and I’ll go over the ins and outs of each.” I wink at Hush as I say that, he smiles and looks impressed. I am pretty fucking impressive. Five minutes ago I was being railed like a fucking twenty-dollar whore in the bathroom, and now I’m helping lawyer suit submissive pick out the object that is going to be rammed up his ass later. Just a day in the life.

Hush wanders around the store as I describe the difference between leather and latex ponytail attachments to lawyer suit. He looks like he’s in over his head so I keep using my calm, ‘you are not a deviant’ voice. I know he must be on a mission of humiliation from his Master, but I don’t want to add to it more than I have to. We get quite a few of these kinds of things in here.

“The latex has the advantage of being easy to clean,” I explain, and notice movement in the corner of my eye. I turn my head and see Hush pretending to deep throat a floppy pink display dildo. His head is thrown back and he’s pantomiming shoving it down his throat. I look back to the butt plugs I’m holding and almost lose it right there. He is flailing his arms behind the customer’s back, waving the dildo in the air, trying desperately to make me laugh, and I am trying desperately to keep it together. “The leather however is timeless,” I continue then start to giggle. “I’m so sorry sir, it’s just…” I trail off into laughter.

Lawyer suit knows what’s up because he’s not fucking stupid. Hush isn’t exactly a man full of quiet dignity. The suit grabs the large black butt plug in my right hand and mutters, “It’s ok, I’ll just take this one,” as he rushes towards the register.

I follow him to the front, as I pass Hush I casually mention, “That’s probably not the cleanest thing we have in the store, I don’t know if I’d want it that close to my face,” and keep walking. He throws it down like it burns and shudders. I laugh and keep sauntering; he follows right behind me.

“So are you sure you have everything now?” I ask lawyer suit in my chipper voice. I feel bad that his Master is humiliating him and Hush’s crazy antics aren’t helping. I keep doing my best to make this as easy as possible for him.

“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s it,” he says and pulls out a wad of cash. He’s out the door like a flash the moment I hand him his brown paper bag and I turn to Hush.

“Seriously, you’re going to get me fired,” I laugh. “Come on, the poor guy, you were making it so hard on him.”

“I’m sorry babe, I just want to make you laugh,” he says and does his best to look contrite. “I love your laugh.” I grab his shirt, drag him towards me and kiss him, a deep breathtaking kiss that I’m in control of. I pin his tongue down and grab the back of his head. I like being up behind the counter, we’re at about the same height this way.

I pull back and say, “You act like a spoiled baby, you were doing anything you could to get my attention.” I can’t help the small thrill that courses through my body. I’m such a smug prick at times.

“Of course I do,” he says and kisses me again, “I want your eyes on me, always. It pisses me off when somebody else has your attention.” He kisses my neck and nibbles lightly. “So if that makes me a spoiled baby, then I guess I’m a spoiled baby.”

I sigh dramatically and tell him, “Ok, you’ve got my full attention now.” We start to kiss again and pass half an hour making out like high schoolers. I mean like I think high schoolers make out. I was pretty much a standoffish bitch in high school. I saw how Eva was though, and I imagine that’s how most girls are.

The buzzer sounds and he draws back, it’s another customer, fucking grand central around here tonight. It’s a homeless guy, they come in to sleep in the booths from time to time, Jag chases them out so they wait for my shift. I find them cleaner and nicer to deal with than a lot of the jerk offs we get in here.

“Hey John,” I wave at him as he shuffles past.

“Jade, always a pleasure to see you,” he replies in a crisp British accent. He was probably a good looking dude at one time, he’s got crazy blue eyes and his jaw line looks like it would have been chiseled before the drink got to him. Now he’s older than his years and looks terribly sad. That’s the worst thing about alcohol, I mean other than the addiction and shit, but it’s the way it makes a person sag under their sadness. He reminds me of a house that’s been abandoned for a few years. If somebody cared, they could fix it up and move back in. Nobody cares though, so it will sit like that until the day it crumbles into the ground.

“Ha! You just like seeing me because I don’t chase you out of here,” I laugh.

“That’s true, you’ve got me there,” He says and walks a little faster, then notices Hush. He stops, looks him up and down and asks, “Who’s your friend here?”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Hush answers before I can open my mouth. “The name’s Hush, pleased to meet you.” Boyfriend? Uh,fuck that, I don’t think so…not yet anyhow.

“He’s so funny, this is my friend, Hush,” I jump in, ignoring his annoyed look. “You go enjoy yourself back there, I’m on all night.”

“Thanks,” John replies. “And it was nice to meet you.” He nods his head towards Hush and heads to the booths.

Hush is tense next to me; I don’t want to start anything because there’s really nothing to start. I can’t help it though. “What the fuck was that, boyfriend?” I demand.

“It just came out,” he looks contrite again. “I don’t know what came over me, I just feel like jumping in between you and any guy you talk to.”

“Even a homeless dude coming in here to sleep?” I ask.

“Oh, he’s homeless? I thought he was a customer, he seemed kinda excited to see you,” he says.

“Uh yeah, his clothes, shaggy beard and filthy face should have been a clue,” I retort. “And of course he’s excited, I don’t chase him out of here like everyone else who works night shift.” I’m still annoyed, but he is adorable when he’s being possessive.

“I thought he was a hipster coming in here to jerk off in the back with you on the brain,” he replies, looking a little foolish as he puts two and two together. Hipster or homeless, I'll give him that, sometimes it really is hard to tell.

“You are impossible,” I say, but when I look at him all suspicion leaves my head and I'm full of the warm fuzzies you read about in shitty romance novels. I swoon over his possessiveness and it's fucking gag worthy. I don't stop though, I actually giggle and say, “It’s a good thing you’re so cute.” I give his cock a squeeze and add, “It doesn’t hurt that you’re packing such a big fat one.” He smiles and I know I am wrapped around his little finger, I’m falling for him. Apparently a nice thick dick is all it takes to have me practically begging him to fuck with my life. I take a sip of my cold chai and listen to him recount a story from their practice earlier that day. This kind of easy conversation doesn’t come often to me, but I guess I kind of like it.

Just past midnight I sell a few magazines and one of the Jade pocket pussies to an older man with deep brown eyes that are full of sadness. I wonder what his story is as I’m bagging his items. Hush grabs the rubber vagina from me and laughs, “What’s this? You didn’t tell me you’re famous, babe.”

“It’s not mine,” I glare at him and grab it back. I toss it in the bag, hand it to the customer and repeat, “It’s not mine," as he gives me the hairy eyeball. He thanks me and walks away. He turns back to take one last long look before he heads out the door.

“Thanks a lot,” I turn to Hush. “Now he’s going to come back in here and think he’s had a piece of me. What happened to you being protective?”

He gives me a lopsided grin and tells me, “I thought you wanted a little more freedom.”

“You do not, you ass,” I stick my tongue out at him. “I think you were overcome by the sight of the pocket pussy and lost your composure.”

“You figured me out,” he says, then frowns and asks me, “why do you work here though, do you like it?”

I think about it for a minute, nobody has ever asked me about this before. People just assume I’m a pervy bastard who does it for the discount nipple clamps. “I don’t not like it, it’s a job and sometimes I hate it,” I tell him, “but my boss is awesome, puts up with a bunch of my crazy shit and some of the customers are sweet.”

“It seems like an unsafe job though,” he prods. “Are you ever worried, being here at night?”

“Not at all,” I fib. “I’ve never had any kind of trouble.” Now that’s a total lie, but seeing how concerned he is, I don’t want to let him know the reality of this job. I have been robbed three times, twice at knife point, once at fake gun point, I’ve been attacked in the booths a few times, and the worst one I can think of, one disgruntled customer flung his jizz on me. That one had me fucking gagging and running for an AIDS test the second I could leave the store. So yeah, it’s not perfect, but where else am I going to work, McFuckingDonalds?

“You’ve been lucky, but it just feels like a bad idea, you being here all by yourself all night,” he presses on.

“Listen,” I say and rub his leg, “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve been doing just fine for three years now. Besides, this isn’t exactly the job I want to retire from.”

He perks up. “Really? What would you like to do?”

I am suddenly gripped with the urge to tell him everything, my hopes and dreams and the fact that I’m super smart and ambitious…and afraid, of what my mom will say, what Eva will say. I’m afraid I’ll fail and I’m afraid he’ll laugh at me so I simply say, “I dunno, do a bookkeeping certificate or something.” In reality I want to go the whole way, BA, Masters, PhD. I want people to call me fucking Doctor. But I don’t tell him this. In short, I am afraid.

“Hey, that’s cool,” he says and I know he’s being mildly condescending. What the fuck does he know though? His big ambition is probably something to do with a hotel room, a bag of coke and a bunch of hookers.

“Yeah, but I don’t know, I think Eva would collapse if I got a real job,” I say and laugh. It’s true though, I don’t know what she’d do without me.

“She’d be fine, you guys have to live your separate lives eventually, right?” he replies.

“I guess, but not for a while. I don’t think either one of us is ready to settle down any time soon. I can’t imagine either one of us in a long term relationship,” I raise my eyebrow and note his slight grimace. I think I might be getting to him as much as he’s getting to me. This mutual attraction is foreign, but is starting to grow on me.

By the time I’m ready to hand the reins to the morning shift, Hush and I have fucked two more times in the bathroom. I am like a bitch in heat around him, and I like it.

We walk out into the morning and the world feels like it’s shifted again. Walking with Hush in the daylight feels like we’re making this legitimate, letting our lust stand the bright light of day. We both look like shit, we’ve obviously been fucking all night, our hair is disastrous and our bodies reek of it. Early morning commuters stare at us as we saunter down Granville, hand in hand and acting like the bold rulers of the new underground.

“You need a lift home?” Hush asks me as we near Robson Street.

“You drive?” I reply, surprised by this revelation. My punk rock-god obsession does something as ordinary as drive?

He reaches into his pocket and digs deep, pulls out a set of keys, dangles them in front of my face and says, “Oh look, apparently I do.”

“Well, heck yes, anything to avoid public transit. It’s pretty bad being the only night owl going home on a Monday morning” I tell him and smile.

He takes a quick right into an underground parking garage, we head down a couple of stories in the elevator, kissing and groping each other the moment we are alone. This is pathetic really, this loss of control. Pathetic; and fucking magnificent.

We walk through the cars and he pauses in front of a new looking Range Rover. I giggle, and assume he’s pulling my leg. “Ok, where’s your real car? What have you got, an old Honda? A broke down Lincoln?” I ask him, and wait for the punch line to this joke.

“No, babe, we’re riding in style,” he says and clicks the key ring. The Rover beeps and opens, he walks to the passenger side door and pulls the door wide with a flourish. “My lady,” he grins, and makes a sweeping bow.

“You have got to be shitting me!” I exclaim. “How much do you guys make with your band?”

He instantly looks embarrassed and mumbles, “It’s family money.” I climb in and he shuts the door. When he gets in I look at him, he does look like he comes from money if you ignore the mohawk, tattoos and faded clothes. He carries himself differently than the trash I grew up with. He doesn’t have that sneaky, conniving look about him, like he’s always looking to work his next scam. I hate that I might carry that desperation with me, so I have spent many hours practicing my neutral look.

“Your family is loaded?” I ask. What is it with me meeting these rich kids, are they all into slumming or something?

He starts to drive and it seems like he’s going to evade the question. We turn out onto the street and immediately get stuck behind a bus. I look at him and will him to answer, he blinks a couple of times and looks back at me. “What?” he laughs. “I feel like you’re using some kind of mind power. Ok, I admit it, my family has money. I don’t have anything to do with them though, so I don’t think of it as my money.”

“Why don’t you have anything to do with them?” I ask, surprised that we have this in common.

“We don’t see eye to eye I guess, my father is not happy with things like tattoos and me being a musician,” he says and reaches over to rub his hand up my thigh, “or casual sex.”

“Oh I hate him then,” I reply. “I get it though, I haven’t talked to my mom in almost a year, but she’s insane, so that’s why.”

“Like certifiably insane, or just crazy bitch?” he asks.

“More like crazy bitch, but if I had the power, I’d certify her,” I reply. “She lives in Surrey, I think. The only time I hear from her is when she needs money.”

“Kinda the opposite of my father,” he says with a smirk. “Only he comes around when he tries to shove money in my face and order me around.”

“So we have that in common,” I smile and put my hand on his, still on my upper thigh. “How romantic.”

“You know it, babe,” he smiles at me and I lean over to turn up the music. The Ramones, he’s worming his way straight to my heart as we sing “Beat on the Brat” at the top of our lungs over the Cambie Bridge.

Chapter Five

Cicero and Something About Falling in Love

“Have you ever had your ass fucked, babe?” Hush whispers in my ear as he’s stroking my arm. I’m curled up against him, entwined in his limbs like we’re on the cover of a porno version of a Nicolas Sparks novel. So dirty, so fucking romantic, and oh my God I can’t keep myself in line around him.

Pathetic, I think for the millionth time, but the horny/happy/giddy part of me kicks my cynical self in the balls (yeah, I’ve got balls in my imagination, I’m sure therapists would have a field day with that).

“Uh, maybe?” I tilt my head up to gauge his response. He’s smiling at me with a wicked glint in his eye.

“You are such a butt slut, I can see it in your eyes,” he tells me and squeezes my ass. “So, next question, have you ever had a threesome?”

“Um, maybe?” I say again and sense where this is going. We’ve been hooking up every chance we can get for the past two weeks. He knows I’m dirty, so he probably knows how I’m going to answer these questions.

“I thought so, you really are my nasty little whore, aren’t you?” he says, his voice full of pride. I wiggle myself against him, trying to wrap myself further up in his body so nobody will ever tear us apart. I brace myself for what I know is coming next. “I’ve got this buddy, he’s in another band, and he’s been bugging me about hooking up with you. You met him at a show, remember Rev?”

I did remember Rev, he is tall and lanky with a muscular body, dark eyes and a jet black faux hawk. He kinda screams poser to me and I wasn’t that impressed. Then again, he isn’t ugly, and he looks like the kind of guy who would be packing a fat cock, so maybe. I hesitate though, not sure if I like this, the fact that Hush is totally down with sharing me. A couple of months ago, I would have fucked them both with no hesitation, I’m not sure why this gets under my skin.

He’s staring at me though, waiting for my answer. “Fuck, sure,” I say, not willing to lay my cards on the table just yet. What am I supposed to say? Beg him to take me away on his white horse?

“Cool, babe, he’s the one who wants to join in, is that ok with you?” he asks, a horny twinkle in his eye.

“Oh fuck yeah, I love being double teamed,” I say a little too chirpy for it to be true, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy picturing his buddy fucking me while I suck his cock or something.

“I knew you’d be down with it, I love that about you,” he says and pulls my face to rest on his chest. I lay there listening to his heartbeat, ignoring how hot and sweaty my head is getting, wild horses couldn’t drag me away from him right now. Miss fucking romance is what I’ve become. I mentally shake my head, to squash the cynic again long enough to close my eyes and follow the rhythm of the heart I wish I could claim.

After a moment or two I notice a tattoo in the inside of his upper arm. I hadn’t paid attention to it before, but now it catches my eye. It’s a beautiful swirling script and reads, dum spiro spero. I sit up and look at him, he jerks his eyes open and says “What?”

“Oh. My. God. You have a Cicero quote on your arm. You are such a geek!” I laugh and point at the tattoo.

He looks at it, flexes his bicep and says, “Oh that old thing? I’ve had it for a while, it’s one of my favourite quotes,” he grabs me and pulls me to him for a kiss. After we’re done crashing our lips together, sighing and breathing each other in…you know, all that romance novel shit, he pulls back and stares at me. His eyes narrow, a smile spreads slowly over his lips and he says, “Wait a minute, who’s the geek? How did you know it was Cicero?”

He’s got me; he might discover my secret intelligence after all. Shit. I giggle and shake my head, “I don’t know, I think they had it on an episode of America’s Next Top Model or something.”

He laughs and says, “Yeah, right,” and keeps looking at me in amazement, as if I’m a dog who just asked for the time.

I decide a distraction is in order, so I slide my hand down his rock hard abs, feeling the bumps and grooves of his delicious six-pack, and land on his cock. He grows hard immediately as I grasp his thick shaft. I love how responsive he is to me; it makes me feel powerful and sexy. “I can feel your pulse,” I laugh, letting the throbbing blood in his veiny cock keep time with my own beating heart. Pathetic, our hearts really are beating together. He runs his fingers along my shoulder blade as I shift to move towards his dick. I want to suck him, lick him and fondle his balls, squeeze them until I feel them tighten as he shoots his load down my throat. I’m a girl with a mission.

He thrusts towards my mouth; the head of his cock pushes past my lips and hits the back of my throat. I gag once then loosen up and let him face fuck me. I'm on my hands and knees, but drop to my elbows as he pumps upwards. He grabs a handful of my hair and locks me into place. I whimper and moan, signaling my own horny response at being used like cheap pocket pussy. A few quick strokes is all it takes, he throws his head back and moans, "Fuck, Jade, I love your mouth," and fills my throat with hot, bitter cum. He smokes too much weed. I can taste it in his spunk. I need to get him to eat more pineapple to sweeten his seed. I’m like the Iron Chef of ball batter. This is the fifth time I’ve drained him in less than twenty-four hours and he still produces a crazy amount of jizz. The stupid shit that impresses me, I really am a freak.

I look up at him, his face is the picture of satisfaction, but my body is on fire. The heat he stirs in me rises, I want him to finger my pussy, so I move my hips towards him. He gets the hint and plunges three fingers into my hole, no questions asked. My God I love this man, he really gets me.

I buck and twist at the end of his arm, he says, “Fuck yeah, you are such a little whore for me, aren’t you, babe?” I cry out in response, he slaps my ass hard, and surprisingly I like it. I wiggle a little to get him to do it again, and he does. I squeal at the pain, the shock, and the fingers dragging along my G spot. Any other man I’ve been with would have been pulling back a bloody stump if they hit me, but not Hush...not him. Instead I push myself against his hand and tilt my pelvis so his thumb grazes my slit as I pound myself against him. My pussy clenches and quivers with my orgasm, I shake my head and lose all sense of self for a brief moment. He holds his fingers perfectly still inside of me, relishing the force of my cunt around his hand, then slides them out slowly as I sink down onto the bed. I roll over right into his arms, blow a stray lock of hair off my forehead and smile.

“So where were we?” I ask, and flutter my eyelashes at him. He slides his soaking wet fingers along my lips and I open my mouth to suck them. I tongue them and taste myself mixed with him, nothing better, nothing hotter, and I could fuck him again in a heartbeat. Instead I let him take his hand back and lay my head on his chest.

“I believe we were discussing the possibility of a threesome,” he says and rubs my back. “You, me, my friend Rev?”

“Ah yes, the elusive threesome, the dream of every young, hot blooded male, right?” I say, laughing to mask the weird feeling I have again, that he’s ok with sharing me. I want him to claim me as his own, to club me over the head and drag me off to his cave or some Neandertal shit. I want him to tie me up and fuck me raw and beat the shit out of anyone sniffing around my dripping cunt. I want something, I’m not sure what, but I don’t want him to dismiss me. I can’t let him know though; it’s just not in my nature.

“Yeah, if you’re up for it. No pressure or anything, but think of how hot it would be, me fucking you from behind while you suck his cock. We could use you like a nasty little slut, it could be amazing.”

“Totally...for sure, amazing,” I reply and close my eyes. I hope he’ll sense the reluctance behind my agreement, but he doesn’t. He just keeps talking about the many things the two of them could do to me, so I resign myself to the fact that this is how he sees me. I need to be ok with that if I want to keep him in my life.

Hush snores. It’s horrible and it’s the one thing I fucking hate about him. I get out of bed, unable to sleep. I should get my head on straight anyhow, it’s going to be a perv fest at the store tonight. Fridays are always like this; they spend the entire week with their suits and office jobs, wives and kids. By the time Friday rolls around, they need to blow off some steam. And of course by steam, I mean spunk, if you get my drift.

I pad to the kitchen and interrupt Eva and Diesel, I don’t call him Gage even though he’s in his shabby boxers in my apartment, far from the stage. They pull apart and I’m relieved to see they were only kissing. I still don’t like the fact that Eva is perched on the counter. Her ass is firmly pressed against the spot I make my toast.

“Uh, dude, mind moving your ass so I can get some brekkie?” I asked her, giving her the hairy eyeball, “And yeah, fucking gross.”

She hops down and rolls her eyes at me, “Whatever Jade, like you haven’t been railed in here a time or two. Remember that guy you fucked a couple times who turned out to be homeless? I saw you guys...so yeah, you fucked a homeless dude in our kitchen, don’t talk to me about gross.”

Gage laughs and I play punch Eva’s arm. “Dude, you swore you’d never tell anyone,” I turn to Gage and add, “I thought he was with Cirque du Soleil, ok? He never said he wasn’t, and I guess I just assumed. He was freakishly flexible though.”

Gage snorts and asks, “How did you find out he was homeless?”

“I figured it out the second time he was here,” Eva says, “it was kind of obvious. I mean dude had duct tape on his shoes and carried a filthy backpack with all his worldly possessions. And he looked like Jesus, it was creepy, to see your friend sucking lookalike Jesus’ cock in your kitchen first thing in the morning.” She laughs and shudders dramatically. It wasn’t my finest moment, I’m glad I can joke about it now. I’ve fucked weirder guys, but there’s something unsettling about picking up a random stranger who turns out to be a squeegee kid.

I shrug and say, “Well, he might have looked like Jesus, but he fucked like a demon...after he washed up of course. Now can I get some fucking coffee?”

The two of them are still giggling as I wipe the countertop down with an antibacterial cloth, fill the coffee maker with water and turn it on. Eva is sitting on Diesel’s lap at the kitchen table, he’s got his arms wrapped around her, his head resting on her back. I’m not gonna lie, it’s a little disturbing to see her like this with a guy. She’s the hump and dump queen, I’ve never had to deal with her and a...boyfriend…before. I miss my talks with Eva, but that’s my fault too. I’ve been spending way too much time with Hush. It’s ridiculous how much time a guy will eat up, so I shouldn’t be so hard on her. Still, they seem a little too comfortable a little too fast. I hope I’m not losing her.

“So what are you two wild kids up to today?” I ask them as I’m adding a teaspoon of sugar to the black brew. I take a sip and imagine the caffeine coursing through my body, giving me the jolt I need to be human again. I’m a coffee addicted Frankenstein, and I smile at the image.

“We might go out to Capilano for a little hike before tonight’s show,” Eva says. Diesel nuzzles her neck and I feel myself tense up.

“Show? Oh, Hush didn’t mention it,” I tell them. That’s odd, he managed to slip in the old threesome talk, but nothing about the show? He must know I’m working, that’s all.

“He’s a man of mystery,” Gage smiles, “but you’re busy anyways, right? It’s a private party for some rich dude’s kid. Totally fucking lame, but it pays crazy big cash.”

“It doesn’t sound that bad, and he might have even told me but I forgot,” I add lamely. They don’t buy it. I finish my coffee and head back to bed. With hours before work, there’s plenty of time for him to tell me.

I slip under the covers and slide myself up against Hush. He’s on his back and instinctively moves his arm around me, pulling me close. I love this, as much as I hate his snoring, I love this. I can pretend for a moment, here in the dark, that I’m normal and we are a happy couple. I can forget about my shitty childhood and my commitment issues and my fear of rejection and listen to him breathe, feel his heart beating against his chest wall, and the warmth of his skin...the warmth of his acceptance.

Please let this last, let this be real, I send up into the atmosphere to whatever God happens to be listening in at that moment. I’m so scared of admitting that I want him that I start to tremble. Everything I’ve ever wanted has been taken away or not realized in the first place, and I want this so damn bad. I feel this want on a visceral level, in my bones and blood, like wanting water after life in the desert.

He stirs, his rhythmic breathing stops and I know he’s awake.

“Hey babe, you’re shivering, are you cold?” he asks in his groggy, sleepy voice, I love that voice, “come here, let me warm you up.”

I think he means sex, but he turns on his side and wraps his other arm around me, drapes his leg over mine and nuzzles my neck. Oh dear God, this is amazing, sex is fantastic, but this intimacy cannot be beaten. Damn my girly hormones, I’m falling in love.

Chapter Six

Crowd Pleasing

I decide to call in sick for work, I never have and I know Jag will be able to tell I’m lying, but I do it anyways. I want to go out tonight, I want to be Hush’s girlfriend at this show, and I kinda want to keep an eye on him. I feel a little stab of guilt at Jag’s irritated tone, but the urge to fuck and dance and snort rails of coke off Hush’s body is too much, and I follow through.

By eight we’re all pretty shit faced. Eva went all out and bought a bottle of Patron, we’ve been doing shots and getting louder for a couple of hours now.

Hush calls a cab and we head downstairs to wait. I don’t realize how loud we are until our upstairs neighbor opens her window, leans out and screams, “Shut! The! Fuck! Up!” at us. She’s generally a really nice girl. I don’t know what her problem is.

“You shut the fuck up!” I scream back and Eva grabs my arm.

“You never piss off your upstairs neighbor, you fucking idiot,” she whispers harshly. “Sorry! My friend is a bit of an idiot when she’s drunk!” she yells at the girl in the window.

I hold up the bottle of Patron with half an inch left in the bottom and yell, “Yeah dude, sorry! Do you want some?”

“Fuck you!” she yells and slams her window shut. Lucky for us the cab shows up just then. It’s an extended passenger van driven by a tired looking middle aged man, he smiles when he sees us, even though we must look like a bunch of drunk assholes. We pile in; Hush is carrying his guitar so we take the back seat, Eva and Diesel in the middle.

“Where to?” the driver asks. I think he must be from Eastern Europe with that accent. He should hate us, but he seems like a pretty good guy.

“Way the fuck in the middle of buttfuck nowhere,” Diesel says a little too loud, and hands him a slip of paper with the address on it.

“Holy shit,” I say and turn to Hush, “where are you guys taking us?” We make our way to the very back seat, leaving a seat between Diesel and Eva for Hush’s guitar.

“It’s a private gig out in Maple Ridge,” he tells me, and adds, “I’m really glad you came along.” He sits and pulls me down next to him. He turns and kisses me and I realize it really is buttfuck nowhere, I hope we can get back. I’m glad I came along too; I hadn’t told him that I knew about the show. I didn’t want to seem desperate by asking. It was hard enough not to jump up and down and squee like a preteen at a Bieber concert when he finally did ask me.

We kiss some more, his tongue slipping inside of my mouth, hot and demanding, like his cock. We fight a little, I always want to be on top, but I give in when he twists my nipple and pulls me tight against him. He always wins when he hits my sweet spot, I can’t fight biology; my body craves him and will do anything to get him inside of me.

“You look so fucking hot tonight,” he breathes against my ear, “I want to split you wide and suck you dry,” he continues, his finger tracing my jaw line and finding my mouth.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I tell him and shake my head, letting hair cascade around my face. I’ve got a long, blond wig on with hot pink highlights. I’m wearing one of my trademark plaid mini skirts with garters and these crazy zig-zag stockings. I’ve done my make-up dark, with smoky eyes and thick mascara. I’ve finished the entire look with thigh high leather boots, stripper heels and all. Damn, I do look hot.

“Fuck, I’ve got to have you, babe, I want to taste you,” he whispers into my hair. I suck his finger like a little cock, come to think of it this one legged guy I hooked up with a few years back had a cock that tiny. I had assumed God would make up for the lack of a leg with a big fat one, turned out God’s not that fair.

He groans and guides my hand onto his lap; his thickness is visible down the leg of his tight jeans. I use one hand and fumble with his belt and buttons, he’s not wearing any underwear again, I love that about him, so I contact smooth, hot skin immediately. I slide his cock out with some maneuvering, and squeeze it in my hand. He covers my mouth with his as I jerk him off in the back seat. He’s almost frantic with his attack on my tongue. He starts to pump against my hand; I can feel his pre-cum, lubricating his thick cock. I glance forward to make sure nobody is catching on, Eva and Diesel are entwined together and don’t notice a thing. The driver keeps his eyes straight ahead, I’m sure he’s seen worse than this.

Hush leans his head back, his mohawk restricts his movement somewhat, so he stretches his legs out under the seat in front of us to accommodate my hand job. I feel his cock throb; I hold my hand still and tighten my grip, letting him thrust against me. He fucks my improvised cunt and runs his fingers through my hair, tugs it gently and cups the back of my head. He drags me closer until my lips are able to wrap around the head of his dick. He thrusts up and forces my mouth open, not that it takes much, and I eagerly suck him in, draining his balls in seconds flat. He releases my hair and breathes out as I slurp him down, then pulls me up as he tucks his cock back in his jeans, like nothing happened. My God, he’s good at this public sex thing.

“Babe, get over here,” he whispers in my ear and pats his lap. I glance ahead and think we can get away with this, so why not? I drape one leg over his legs and straddle him, our arms are around each other as we kiss. His hands start to roam down my back, one of them strokes my thigh and grabs my ass. I’m not wearing any panties and I know I’m leaving a juicy trail on his jeans, but I don’t fucking care, I grind myself into his thigh.

He runs his hands up and down my thighs, seeking my slit, so I open my legs a little more to let him in. The van slows, so I look outside and see we’ve hit a traffic snarl. With the van creeping along, it feels a little too obvious to be fucking his hand while we’re in the back seat.

I angle my hips so I pull back, his finger left high and dry and my cunt left throbbing with need. Fuck, why do I have limits here? Is this what being responsible is all about? Next thing you know I’ll be paying my bills on time and watching my salt intake, for fucks sake.

“Hey, let’s cool down,” I whisper into his ear, we’re at a dead stop now and you can hear everything inside the van.

He grabs me and pulls me back against him. “Let’s not,” he replies, his breath is thick with booze in my face.

“Hey, I’m serious,” I say louder and slide off to sit next to him. “This is just kinda weird, I don’t want to make everyone uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t have a problem with it at the restaurant when we first met,” he laughs softly, exhales and grabs my thigh. “I’ll let you off the hook now, if you promise to do something really nasty for me later.”

“Depends on what it is,” I giggle quietly, intrigued. And yeah, I didn’t have a problem with it before, but this feels different somehow, in the forced intimacy of the van.

“You’ll like it, I promise,” he whispers and pinches my nipple until I’m close to pulling his cock out and sliding my sopping pussy down it.

I’m breathless but manage to say, “Ok, I promise,” and wonder what kind of trouble I’m going to get myself into.

The rest of the ride we behave ourselves. I can’t keep my hands off him, and he can’t keep his hands off me, but our genitals are safely kept away from each other. We turn down onto a dark, straight road in the middle of nowhere and I see cars lining either side. We drive several more minutes and I wonder what kind birthday party this is going to be.

We stop in front of a gigantic building, I think it’s a barn but it’s huge. Hush pays the driver and holds up a couple bills, I think they’re hundreds. “Head down the road and wait for us,” he tells the cabbie, “we’ll text you when we’re ready to go.”

“That’s a bit much, isn’t it?” I say as he picks up his guitar.

“Try getting a ride out here, babe, we’d have more luck finding a horse and buggy,” he says and smacks my ass, then puts his arm tightly around my shoulders.

We meet up with a tall man in a suit, but his earpiece gives him away as security. He ushers us along the side of the building to an entrance flanked by two more guards. They open the door for us and we all stumble in, laughing and cracking jokes about farmers and sheep. Thank God it’s not a typical farm, the entire way has been paved so far, I wouldn’t want cow shit on my favourite boots. I’m dirty, but not that kind of dirty.

Inside we take five stairs up and head down a long hallway. I can hear the roar of the crowd and the scream of the guitars already on stage. How many people are there? This is a bigger deal than I initially thought.

We’re taken to a dressing room; it’s large enough for the entire band to hang out before the show. The other three guys are there, Axel, Semi and Duke. I nod hey to them and they say a polite hello to Eva and I, and then turn to the guys and we become invisible. Hush sits down and pulls me onto his lap, he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me against him, I love this intimacy we’re developing. I smile and listen to them bullshit about music, drugs, chicks, typical guy stuff.

Duke’s halfway through a story about fucking two chicks he picked up after their last show, we’re laughing as he’s describing one of them getting jealous and ripping her friend’s wig off in mid thrust, when there’s a knock on the door.

“Fifteen minutes to show,” a male voice sounds.

“Good, thanks,” Diesel tells him, turns to us and yells “Fuckin A! Let’s get busy boys!”

Hush deposits me unceremoniously into the chair as he stands up. “Sorry babe, I gotta get ready,” he says and leans down to kiss my forehead.

Axel pulls out a little Ziploc of coke, unzips it and starts lining it up on the coffee table. The five of them hover around it, like some primitive tribe discovering fucking fire. They all take their turns, Hush is last and grabs a rolled up bill from his pocket and leans down. I hear the tell tale sucking sound of him breathing the drug in, and I want some. I love the way coke gets me ramped up. I’m a fucking beast on the shit, ready to fist pound anything that gets in my way, so full of power. I kneel down next to him and look at Axel.

“Fuck dude, don’t be greedy, your lady wants some,” Axel says to Hush. Hush looks up surprised, and hands me his rolled bill.

I lean down and suck the last two lines up like a pro. I might as well be a pro, I’m not an addict or anything, but coke has been a God damned good acquaintance of mine since the first time I stumbled on my mom’s leavings. It was a little leftover from the night before and I tasted it with my tongue. The numbing sensation that spread through my mouth was enough to clue me in, so I had carefully scraped up the last of it from her fake art deco mirror (purchased at the Army and Navy to bring a little culture to our little dive, she had said) and put it in a bag to bring to Eva. I was fifteen and felt like a fucking boss when I presented it to her in class.

We had gone to the girl’s washroom at lunch and done our best to snort it off our fingernails, we spilled more than we got in our noses, and it was such a small amount to begin with, but the effects were amazing. The afternoon zoomed by and we spent a couple hours afterwards walking to Metrotown Mall, we had so much nervous energy that we needed to expend it somewhere.

We had come down in Metrotown, miles from home and feeling heavy and cranky afterwards. We’d parted ways, she’d called her driver and I’d jumped onto the Skytrain hoping nobody would catch me without a ticket. Later that evening I’d gotten a text from her that simply said, “That was fucking AMAZING! We need more.”

I’d agreed and done it when I could. So when it was served up in front of me and shared by my amazingly hot rock-God...um...boyfriend? I am gonna fucking partake.

I sit up after snorting a couple of short lines and can almost feel my eyes doing that cartoon spiral thing, I swear I must look like a buzzed out coke fiend, but Hush leans close and whispers, “You look so fucking hot right now, I can’t wait to fuck you while we’re high.”

“Enough dirty talk, Mr. Heffner, we’ve got a show to put on,” Axel says and pulls on a black leather jacket. “You can fuck your girl later,” he continues and winks at me. I smile and love feeling included in the band’s camaraderie. Eva hasn’t snorted yet, so she drops to her knees and inhales the last couple of lines in record speed.

Diesel looks proud and says, “Holy shit, that’s my girl. Sucks cock and coke like an expert.” Eva giggles and wipes her face with the back of her hand. Her eyes are already glazing over with fire and I know this is going to be a fucking awesome night.

We follow the guys down the hall to the back of the stage. I watch them head out in near dark and watch Hush lean down and plug his guitar in. The rest of the band already have their instruments set up, but Hush doesn’t trust anyone with his baby. They pause for a moment in their positions, Diesel gives a signal and the lights come up.

The crowd goes crazy, I peek out to see how many people there are and immediately pull back. There has to be at least a thousand screaming college students, the inside of the barn is immense and holds more than any club I’ve ever been in. I look at Eva and say, “Holy shit, our guys are like, famous,” in my best Valley girl impression.

She grins, elbows me in the ribs and says, “Aren’t you glad I didn’t dump him after the first fuck?”

“How’s it going?” I ask, realizing this isn’t the best time to have a heart to heart, but I never see her alone these days.

She smiles wider and says, “It’s good...great even. I like him Jade,” she continues, almost breathlessly, “I really, really like him.”

“That’s a first,” I reply, “I’m really happy for you.” I link my arm in hers and we allow our bodies to move to the harsh beats, fueled by the coke coursing through our veins.

A few songs in, Hush strides across the stage to Diesel and grabs the mic from him. Diesel is surprised, but allows him to take it. The crowd dulls down to a fevered whisper as everyone is waiting to hear what he says.

“I want to take this moment to introduce somebody, a girl who has rocked my fucking world and a girl as dirty as I am,” he breathes into the mic, he smiles wickedly and adds, “if you can believe that.”

The crowd is chanting his name, “Hush! Hush! Hush!” as he reaches his hand towards me and says “I want you all to welcome my girl, Jade. Get your fine ass out here, babe.”

I freeze, there’s no way I can go out there in front of those screaming fans. Eva yells, “What are you waiting for? Get out there!”

I shake my head no and feel my heart pounding. She grabs my arm and pushes me towards him and screams, “Fucking go to him! You’ll love it! It’s the most amazing high ever!”

I reach up and feel my wig, pull it forward to hide part of my face and step woodenly towards him, my rock-God man, the only person on the planet I would do this for. His shirt is open, his chest is sweaty and his face is shining from the exertion of his performance, but he lights up when he sees me come out.

The crowd starts chanting “Jade! Jade! Jade!” and I’m star struck. I don’t know what to do with all these people watching. The guys in the band start to look bored, so Diesel grabs the mic back and says, “Give the happy couple a hand, folks!” The crowd erupts with cheering.

The band starts in again, some crazy beats and screaming lyrics I can’t understand, more so because I’m still holding Hush’s hand. He pulls me against his hot, sweaty body and I feel his cock already stiff in his jeans. He kisses me, drags me up against him so hard I’m almost knocked off my feet. His urgency increases and he walks me backwards, sets his guitar up against an amp, and lifts me up onto it. He keeps kissing me. Part of me is so aware of the gigantic crowd watching, but the other part just feels coke in my blood and cock against my leg, and I want him, now.

“Remember when you promised me something nasty?” he growls in my ear.

I say, “Yes,” suspiciously, knowing where this is going.”

“This is it, don’t worry, you’re gonna love it.”

Before I can protest, he reaches down and undoes his jeans, I can feel his cock pop out and I move my ass to the edge of the amp. He looks me in the eye and wraps his arm around my waist. “Fencepost? This is your last chance to say no, babe.”

“Not even close,” I whisper, staring back at him, daring him to continue. We’re at the perfect height for this, he kisses me, pins my tongue down with his at the same moment he slams his cock into my tight, waiting cunt. I can hear the crowd going insane, and I know my little show is probably all over Twitter by now, but I don’t care. All I can hear is the music throbbing through my body, Diesel’s voice filling my ears, and the steady rhythm of my own heart pounding against my ribs.

Hush is thrusting into me like a man on fire now, a man consumed with his need for me, and I dig my hands into his ass and feel myself lifted up by his muscular body. I’m barely touching the amp; he’s got one arm around me as he grunts and slams into my pussy. I can feel the inside of my thighs slick with my own juices. I’ve been dripping for him since we got in the cab back at home.

The band starts in with a cover of Closer by Nine Inch Nails, and I hear the lyrics... fucking like an animal, feeling from the inside, and I can’t hold back, I cum and I cum hard. I thrash my head and feel the long hair of the wig slip back, exposing my face. So much for keeping my identity a secret, but in this perfect, frozen moment of ecstasy, I don’t care. I can tell he’s getting ready to finish, I hear some chick in the front of the crowd scream, “Fuck me next Hush, I love you!” I glance down and see her face; she’s so full of envy and desire that I feel a rush of possessiveness race through me. This is a crazy high, Eva was right; I am completely inflamed with the feelings of power coursing through me.

He’s there, his orgasm. He grabs me and pulls me against him so hard he knocks the wind out of me. He freezes, shudders and shoots his hot load inside of me. I scream his name and scratch my hands up his back, under his shirt. He covers me, hunches over me and breathes heavy in my ear. “Fucking hell, Jade, that was amazing,” he rasps in a hoarse voice. The band stops playing and Diesel walks towards us. I’m suddenly aware of what happened, I don’t know what came over me, but I need to sit up. He pulls away and hoists his jeans up over his hips, buttons them up and turns to the crowd with a crazy grin, holding his arms wide like an insane dictator. They go absolutely wild, so he bows and turns back to me. He walks me off stage and kisses me when we get to Eva. “You are insanely beautiful, I love-” he cuts himself off and tenses up, “sorry, crossed a line,” he adds and turns to head back to the screaming crowd.

“Crossed what line?” I yell after him, but he doesn’t hear me. What line could we possibly be crossing after fucking like animals on a stage in front of hundreds?

On stage he has taken his shirt off completely, I can see his slick body and his beautiful tattoos ripple as he leaps off an amp. He turns to play his guitar and I can see the stripes of my scratches welling up on his skin, it gives me satisfaction to have marked him so.

“Jade, what the fuck?” Eva laughs and grabs my hand, “that was insane!”

I go red and say, “Fuck, I know, right? I don’t know what came over me.”

“I know what came in you,” Eva says and I stick out my tongue at her shitty joke. “You know you’re probably a sex tape star, right?” she adds, seeming envious. “That’s so cool, my best friend, amateur porn star.”

“I am not, besides, I doubt anyone will know who I am,” I tell her and head to the bathroom to wash up. I regret my decision to not wear panties as my inner thighs get sticky with Hush’s drying cum.

What a way to find out I’m a fucking exhibitionist, in front of a crowd of a thousand screaming college kids. Typical day in the life of Jade.

Chapter Seven

DP and I Love…

This threesome is going to be better than I expected. Rev’s actually kinda hot. He meets us at a small pub near my apartment. Eva is out for the night with Diesel, they’ve got some romantic plans to get a hotel room, do a few rails of coke, and wreck it rock star style. I’ve got romantic plans to fuck and suck two different men. It’s all in how you look at it, I guess.

We’re sitting in a booth. I’m on the inside with Hush on the outside, Rev’s right across from me. He’s got a fresh face that goes well with the faux hawk; he’s too cute to be a bad ass rocker. I’m thinking boy band might be more up his alley. He plays guitar with another punk band, Underdog. What is it with me and guitar players?

“It’s not a bass though,” he clears that up straight away. “What do you call a homeless bass player?” he asks me shortly after sitting down.

“Uh, don’t know,” I reply and look at Hush.

“Between girlfriends,” Rev says and starts laughing his head off.

I chuckle and say, “Yeah, good one.” Hush snorts derisively and puts his arm around me.

“I don’t think Jade here is worried about that, are ya, babe?” he says.

“I dunno, it might be kinda nice having you around a little more, picking up your dirty underwear, wiping the piss off the toilet seat,” I snicker and wiggle under his arm a little farther. “On second thought, take your dirty things with you when you leave.”

“You’ve seen my place, I’m a tidy bloke,” he protests. “If anything, I’d be picking up after you.”

I have seen his place, and it is tidy. He’s got a bachelor pad in a mid-rise near the beach in Kits. I imagine a place like that must be pretty pricey, but his family most likely helps out. He keeps it pretty bare, just a bed and a couple of overstuffed chairs. We’ve fucked on every piece of furniture he owns, he always jokes when I’m riding him in one of those comfy chairs. His place is best left for sleeping in on bright Sunday mornings, lying in bed and talking for hours. I’ve gotten to know more about him the few nights I’ve spent over than all the times at my place. He’s so much more comfortable in his environment; when he’s with me in my bed, I always feel as though he’s holding a piece of himself back, and I can never figure out what it is.

It’s been over a month since I first met him at the Roxy. Almost six weeks if I’m being honest, but putting a time limit on it makes me nervous, as though by quantifying it I risk making him disappear. I get the sense that he doesn’t like things like anniversaries or things that are designed to label a relationship or tug at sentimental heartstrings.

I love him, but he’s not exactly a romantic. He’s too guarded, and I’m terrified to admit my feelings, we’re a right fucking mess.

“So, how are we going to do this?” Rev asks, getting right to the point.

“We thought we could take it back to Jade’s place, she’s got lots of space and a few toys,” Hush says, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“Are you sure you’re cool with this?” Rev asks me, “You two seem pretty much in love, I don’t want to end up a third wheel.”

“I’m fine,” I say and look at Hush, “as long as he’s ok.

“I’m good, I just want to get this going,” he smiles and gets up to pay the bar tab. We’ve been drinking for a while, and I realize I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast. I sway when we stand up to go, Rev reaches for my arm to steady me, but Hush knocks him away and pulls me towards him. Oh boy, this is going to be an interesting night, but his reaction elicits a thrill of satisfaction, as if he’s claiming me as his.

We walk slowly back to my apartment, Hush is holding my hand tightly the entire way. I’m starting to wonder if he’s as into this as I think he is. All he has to do is say the word and I’m out, I’ve been down with group sex and threesomes before, but it feels different with him.

My upstairs neighbor exits the building as I’m trying to slide my key in the lock, fumbling in my tipsy state. I step aside and she throws me an icy glare as she passes. If only she knew what was going down tonight, she probably would have spit on me too. She looks like a lawyer or something, always immaculately dressed and polished, the polar opposite of my deliberate trashiness.

Inside my door, Rev is on me immediately. I haven’t even shrugged my leather jacket off before his hands are all over me and he’s trying to kiss me. Hush steps back to get his own coat off, I glance at him and he does nothing, so I let Rev have his way. I’m leaning into him with my eyes closed, imagining it’s Hush, but I can’t. Rev’s tongue is too soft and flat, his mouth too full of spit and his body doesn’t fit into my curves like Hush’s does. His hip bone clashes with mine and I wince when he thrusts against me.

I relax immediately when I feel Hush’s hands encircle my waist. He presses his body against my back and I can feel his rock hard cock on my ass. I need him to be involved completely, or I want to push Rev away. I lean back against him and Rev follows, kissing my neck and nibbling the flesh along my collarbone. I sigh softly and feel Hush’s fingers tangle in my hair. He holds my head in place, traps me there to accept Rev’s kisses. It’s so unbelievably hot, being held in place by my boyfriend while another man is kissing me. Rev’s hands move under my shirt to my breasts, he rolls a nipple in between his thumb and forefinger and I arch my back to receive this. I want to take off my tee shirt, so I wiggle free from both of them and slip it off over my head. For dramatic effect, I slide my skirt and tights down over my hips and tug them off the ends of my legs.

I feel like a fucking pork chop in front of two starving dogs, the way they’re looking at me. Fuck this is good for the ego, I need to do this more often...as long as it’s with Hush. I briefly consider bringing a girl around next time, but red-hot jealousy rears its ugly head and I nix the idea before I let it take root.

Rev steps towards me and runs his hand along my arm. He makes a noise of appreciation and says, “Jesus fuck, you’re a lucky guy,” to Hush. Hush visibly pushes his chest out with pride. I feel like a prized pony or something.

Hush replies with a simple, “I know I am,” and walks to my other side. I’ve got one on the left, and one on the right, and I love the heat of their bodies close to mine. My pussy is hot and ready to go, but I want to stretch this out and really enjoy it. I reach down and unzip Hush’s jeans, he wiggles them down over his hips and steps out, drags his shirt over his head right after. He’s not wearing underwear, and the cock I know and love is standing at attention, waiting for my touch. Rev is not shy; he strips quickly and holds his own dick in his hand, waiting for my appraisal. I’m pleased to note it’s thick and long, not as massive as Hush, but it will fill me just fine.

“Nice,” I say, pleased with them both. I reach over and take a cock in each hand and drag them towards me, then start to pump. I’m multi fucking tasking, and I’m really good at it. Hush slides his hand along my flesh and pops a breast into his mouth while I’m jerking them off. Rev follows by attaching his mouth to my other one, and soon I can barely stand. My knees feel weak and I’m heating up, I can feel my pussy start to throb and juices are starting to slick my inner thighs.

Rev starts to hump against me; he moves his mouth from my nipple to my ear and nibbles. He whispers, “You are so beautiful, I can’t wait to feel you wrap yourself around my cock,” and I’m done, I need to lie down. My knees almost give out but the two dicks hold me up. I lead them awkwardly to my bedroom; they’re walking in little scuffling hops that make me laugh. I’d probably try and get a cell phone video if I weren’t so horny.

I don’t know what I’d do if Hush weren’t here at this point, I’m so heated that I might fuck Rev even if it were just the two of us. He’s not that bad. Still, I make sure to look Hush in the eyes as we walk. I want him to know that this is for him. I want to please him.

We get to my bed and I sit down, their cocks are at eye level so I lean over and start sucking Hush, jerking Rev as I do so. Hush runs his fingers through my hair and groans, he lightly fucks my face, I can taste his pre-cum on my tongue. Rev is breathing heavy, his cock is thinner, I think it will be easier to deep throat now that Hush has taught me how to take his fat one. I slurp to the end of Hush’s dick and turn to Rev. I open my lips and he thrusts himself into my mouth in a heartbeat. I jerk Hush’s cock as I tend to Rev. They both have their hands in my hair, Hush reaches down and strokes my cheek while I suck his friend.

Rev doesn’t last long; his body stiffens and he tightens his fingers on the back of my head. He grunts and shoots his load in my throat, deep in the back, but I still taste it on my tongue, he’s sweeter compared to Hush, but I don’t like his taste as much as my man’s.

With Rev done, I turn back to Hush. He has one hand on my head and one on his dick, stroking it. “Hold still,” he says, “I want to cover your face.” His tugs increase in speed, Rev is helping him hold me still, he’s at eye level and I know when he’s about to cum. I can see his balls quiver, his dick twitch and his hand grip tighter as his load shoots out the end onto my waiting tongue. I lap at his cock and drink him down, savouring the familiar taste of his spunk in my mouth.

I am oddly satisfied and they haven’t even started on me. I shake with the excitement of what’s to come.

Hush pushes me back on to the bed and helps wiggle up so I’m spread eagle in the centre. He leans down between my legs and I feel his hot tongue stabbing my clit. Rev moves next to me on the bed and starts sucking my breasts. I don’t last long, less time than Rev even, and I’m bucking my hips up trying to draw more of Hush inside of me, crashing into my orgasm with a shudder and a gasp. Afterwards I’m limp, I lay there let the aftershocks of the event wash over me. Rev and Hush each take a spot on either side of me. I am truly loving this feeling, two hot men to play with, one of them I just happen to love.

“Shit, dude, you really are a lucky man,” Rev says again and tweaks my nipple. “Jade, doll, you might just be the hottest chick I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting naked with.”

“And we are just getting started,” Hush says and puffs out his chest again. His pride is palpable.

“I do what I can,” I say with a smile. I don’t want to brag about how many times I’ve done this, so I don’t go on into elaborate descriptions.

“So what next?” Rev asks and runs his hand along my stomach. Hush has pulled away from me, he’s leaning up on one arm waiting for my answer.

“I think I need a drink,” I tell them. Hush jumps up and heads to the kitchen, he’s been here enough he know where everything is. He comes back with a brand new bottle of Bombay Sapphire and a jug of orange juice.

“Gin blossom?” he asks with a flourish, as though he’s a well-paid waiter in a high-class establishment.

“Don’t mind if I do,” I reply and wait while he goes back to get glasses.

“Get one for me too,” Rev calls to Hush and rolls over to face me. “You really are beautiful, but you know that, right?” he says and rubs my arm.

I’m uncomfortable with his compliments. I’m not used to hearing it, and I’m sure any guy will tell you this when they’re about to fuck your cunt numb. “Uh, thanks,” I say and wonder where Hush has gone.

“You’re funny too,” he goes on, “it’s so hard to find that combination, smart and hot. Just keep me in mind if you and Hush don’t make it, promise?”

“I don’t know about that,” I say, “I like him a lot.”

“Yeah, a lot of people like him a lot….a lot of girls like him a lot,” he smiles at me, then grows serious. “Doesn’t that ever bother you? All the women throwing themselves at him every time he gets on stage?”

“Not at all, I’ve got him trapped with my magic vagina,” I grin, brushing him off. But of course it fucking bothers me, what the fuck does he think, that I love the fact that my man makes his living doing something that requires him to be a sex symbol? I am normally not insecure, but that deliberate distance Hush keeps between us makes me a little nervous. I can’t count on him one hundred percent to not fuck around on me; we’ve never had the talk about where we are in terms of monogamy.

“I saw that video, you know,” he tells me. “The one of you guys on stage, you looked fucking amazing.”

“Who hasn’t?” I laugh sardonically. “I’ve had calls from pretty much every low scale production company from here to Surrey over that video. I could be a shitty porn star if I do chose it.”

“I wanted to hook up with you before I saw that, from the first time we met,” he says, “but after that video...fuck...I knew I had to have you. I’ve been jerking off every day watching it.”

I don’t know if I should feel flattered or creeped out, luckily I don’t have to reply because Hush returns with the glasses.

“There you are, I thought you’d gotten lost,” I say and give him my best ‘save me’ look.

“I needed a little pick me up,” he smiles and I can tell by his glassy eyes that he’s done coke. “A little sniff sniff,” he adds, pantomiming snorting.

“You don’t want to share?” I ask, feeling a little left out.

“Sure babe, if you want some...Rev? You in dude?” he replies, holding a small bag in his grip.

“Not me, man, I don’t do that shit,” Rev says and surprises the both of us.

“Not a problem, just more for us, hey babe?” Hush laughs, sets the glasses down on my nightstand and jumps into bed with me. He holds his hand out and I see two little bullet shaped objects, I’m confused.

“What’s that?” I ask, hoping I don’t seem like a complete idiot.

“For you, coke,” he smiles and holds them closer.

I pick them up and look at them. They seem too big for me to swallow so I gulp and hesitate.

“You’ve never done suppositories?” he asks.

“Not at all,” I say, “I guess I’m kinda old fashioned like that.”

Rev is rubbing my side and moves his hands to my back, then down to cup my ass. “I think I can help you with that,” he tells me and pulls me up onto my hands and knees.

I clue in as to where they are going, and I tense up. Hush takes them from me and leans over to kiss the back of my neck. “Just relax babe, you wont notice a thing after a second or two.”

I try to relax, I feel Rev on one side of me, Hush on the other, each has a hand on an ass cheek.

“Fuck, you are a lucky guy,” Rev says again.

Hush laughs, and I feel him squeeze my ass as he says “You’ve mentioned that a few times tonight. I might have to keep an eye on you after this, dude.”

“You just might,” Rev says and adds “only if you ever fuck up and lose her though, I won’t poach.”

Hush says “It’s all good, I know she’s mine,” and I can tell he’s a little irritated, his reply has an edge to it. I hear him spit and feel it land on my crack, he rubs it in and says “I’m going to have to fuck your ass tonight, babe, or I’m gonna fucking lose my mind. You are going to squeal like a bitch in heat.” He slides his thumb inside of me and cups my cunt with his hand. I can feel his rough fingers on my clit and he probes my ass with his thumb. I moan and lean back against him. What can I say? I am a butt slut.

“There you go, fuck this is hot,” Rev says and massages my ass cheek, he reaches under me and rolls my nipple in his fingers.

Hush pulls his thumb out with a pop and I feel him immediately insert both suppositories. I fight the urge to push them out, relax my body and let them slide up inside of me. I can immediately feel them heating up, and within moments the coke begins to make the lights brighter and my cunt wetter. I’m ready to fuck like a machine now and I flip onto my back and pull both men towards me.

I kiss Hush and find Rev’s cock. I jerk it while I suck Hush’s tongue, then guide Hush towards my pussy. I’m pulling on Rev’s cock when Hush plunges his into me, sliding down until impact. I gasp and throw back my head, breaking our kiss, but allowing him to go up on his knees and grab my legs. I drape them over his shoulders and he begins fucking me like a jackhammer. I pull Rev towards me and take his cock in my mouth. He adjusts his legs so he’s straddling my face and fucking my throat. He’s got his hands up on the headboard for balance, so he really fucks me hard, matching time with Hush’s thrusts.

I feel like the top of my head is going to explode off in a hail of fireworks. Every nerve is on fire and the pleasure blooms behind my eyes like a fucking Windows screen saver. I swear I see green fields and shooting stars and kittens playing with a ball of yarn as I drag Rev’s cock out of my mouth so I can scream my orgasm like a conquering warrior woman.

I can’t even speak as Hush explodes his own grunting release inside of me, and Rev jerks off next to my face. The only words that exist in my head are cunt, cock, cum, cunt. I swear sex on coke turns me into a fucking cavewoman.

Hush pulls out and rolls off of me, he comes up to cradle me and kiss my face. Rev wastes no time, he’s between my legs in a heartbeat and plowing into my freshly fucked cunt like it’s his last earthly act. I buck my hips up to meet him and our bodies crash together. His is almost painful in its angularity, once again, we just don’t fit together like Hush and me.

Hush’s spunk leaves me loose and wet, but Rev loves it. I clench my pussy around him, pulling against him as he moves back, my body is responding and I can feel my orgasm building. I reach up and drag my fingernails down his back, digging in, leaving long scratches I’m sure. He winces but says, “Oh fuck, that’s good.”

Hush starts playing with my tits, he rolls my nipples in between his thumb and forefinger and nuzzles my neck. “You are so beautiful when you cum,” he says in my ear. “I fucking love your face when you’re on the end of my cock, I love you Jade.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and feel tears leaking out anyways. They sting and roll down my face, along the side of my head. I hate crying when I’m on my back, and for him to say it while I’m being railed by another dude, fuck him. I refuse to look at him, instead I concentrate on Rev’s cock and my cunt. I focus and make that the only thing I can feel right now. I arch my back and grab his forearms. The muscles rippling under the skin make me crash down into orgasm. It’s funny at these moments how the smallest of things can be the one thing that sends you over the edge. Rev has nice forearms, so I cum. Seems reasonable to me in my current state.

“Oh fuck it, I’m gonna to cum, I can’t hold back Jade, you are fuckin’ unbelievable,” Rev grunts and stiffens up, I feel him unleash his hot load deep inside my pussy and he collapses on top of me, panting.

I am exhausted and content, and I think I’ve worn the guys out a little. Rev falls to the side of me and we lie still for a few moments until Hush starts to grow restless. I can feel his hands increase in their speed as he plays with my body. Rev isn’t moving, and I wonder if he’s fallen asleep, his eyes are closed and his breath is slowing.

Hush’s fingers probe my cleft, brushing over the fuzz of my growing pubes, slip into the folds and find my clit. I’m almost too sensitive to handle it, but the coke makes me want it more, feel it more. I sigh and lean towards him, stroke his face and drink in the sight of him. His eyes are intense, their blue-green colour is bright as though lit with an inner fire. His mohawk has been pulled back into an elastic in preparation for tonight, but some of the hairs have escaped and are backlit by the bedside lamp, giving him a crooked green halo. His face is calm, almost serene, his lips set in a straight line with the smallest curve of a smile pulling them up at the sides. He pulls away from my pussy and reaches up to match my strokes, traces the curve of my jaw and the outline of my lips. It’s quiet, I can hear Rev breathing and the low rush of traffic somewhere outside, but between Hush and I there is only silence.

I don’t want to break this spell, we are the only two people in the world and I can feel my heart opening up to him. He’s resting his other hand casually on my hip, it burns with the weight of his possession, I feel owned by him and I fucking love it. I’ve never felt so completely in tune with another human being, and even the cynical part of me is muffled tonight. Is it the coke, or the fact that he said he loves me, or is it just me falling in love? I don’t know, but I do know that I never want it to end.

Rev snorts and wakes up, twitches and realizes where he is. His hands reach for me and our little magical bubble is popped. I respond to Rev dragging his fingers along my side, he’s tracing out patterns on my skin, slowly luring me back from Hush. I roll onto my back and greet him with a kiss, his tongue is still not quite right, but I no longer care, I’m high and horny and it’s all good.

Hush tries to pull me back towards him, but I’m lost in the moment, I want them both now. Call me fucking greedy, but I need to have them both inside of me, and Hush’s jealousy only heightens the power I’m feeling.

I let Rev slide his fingers inside of me, and arch my back towards him. Hush grips my hip and tugs at me, his urgency increasing as Rev starts to rub my clit and I say, “Yes, yes, yes,” in response.

Hush moves away and I can feel him shift, I hear him pour himself a drink and drain the glass. He fills it again, and I’m guessing it’s the gin, not the juice that he’s consuming.

Rev leans back and drags me towards him. I reach down and grip his cock, it’s hard and ready to go. He helps me straddle him, I look towards Hush, he’s sitting on the side of the bed with his back to us. The fucking guilt rises like bile in the back of my throat and all I want to do is jump off Rev and go to Hush, comfort him and tell him he’s the only one I want, the only one I ever want.

But I don’t, there’s this destructive part of me that pushes through and decides that if he wanted a threesome, then we’re doing it balls to the wall so help me God. I’m going to keep fucking Rev, even though it looks like every moan or sigh I make is hitting Hush in the heart. I’ll do it because there’s this awful asshole part of me that doesn’t believe him, doesn’t want to let him in, and wants to burn everything to the fucking ground so I can curl up in a ball in the wasted ruins and scream, “I told you so” to the howling wind.

I slide myself down on Rev and he says, “This is insane, you feel so good Jade, you feel so good…” as I start to bounce up and down. I don’t take my eyes off Hush, willing him to turn around.

He does, he finishes his third glass of straight gin and stands up, turns around and grins at me.

“That’s my little whore, that’s my girl,” he says, and I’m not gonna lie, it cuts me deep to hear these words coming from his mouth I fuck Rev harder in response, to show him I am a fucking little whore, that’s all I’m worth. From the first time my mother said it to this time now, I have believed it, I’m not worth more than the pleasure my flesh offers men, somewhere deep inside of me I have always believed it.

Hush gets on the bed behind me, he straddles Rev’s legs and rubs my back, cups my ass as I’m riding Rev’s cock. I love it, self-loathing be damned, this is amazing. Cock in cunt, hands on ass, love in heart, fuck everything else is all I can think, fuck everything except for what’s happening exactly right now in this moment.

“Slow down, babe,” Hush says and grabs a handful of hair. I freeze and almost go limp, my hair being pulled is my secret erogenous zone and I react like a cat in heat being pinned down by a tom. I almost yowl, I swear, I almost fucking yowl like a horny cat in the back alley. The coke is losing its edge but everything still feels electric on my skin, so Hush’s kisses along my spine almost throw me into a frenzy. He massages my ass and spreads my cheeks, he spits and rubs my pucker, inserting his finger. He rolls it around a little, loosening me up. The coke has numbed me somewhat near the entrance, which is beneficial if he’s going to ram his massive dick in there.

“Last chance, fencepost?” he says, pausing behind me.

“Not even close,” I manage to whisper in a hoarse voice.

He holds my hair tight in one hand and guides his cock into my asshole with the other. I cry out in pain and pleasure, my cunt spasms around Rev’s cock and he puts his hands on my hips and groans. Hush pulls out slowly, he’s working the tip of his cock around the rim of my pucker from the inside; waiting until I relax before he fully enters me. I loosen up and he shoves his cock back in, harder this time. I gasp, I sound like I’m surprised, but I was expecting it. I think what surprises me is the intensity I feel, the raw animal lust I have welling up from somewhere deep inside of me. I don’t know where this comes from; I don’t recognize this primitive grunting, sweating bitch. I didn’t know I had it in me.

Hush pulls out again and begins pumping against my ass. I can feel it burning a little at the entrance, but the coke definitely has done its job and it’s more on the pleasure than pain side of the spectrum. Pleasurable pain. Rev begins to match Hush’s rhythm and I’ve got two cocks going in and out of me in time. I don’t know how long I can last like this, but I want to keep riding this wave, it feels like the bed is in the middle of the ocean, I feel so light and liquidy.

I can’t hang on any longer. Rev’s fingers are entwined in mine offering support or I feel like I might fly away. Hush has his arms wrapped tight around my waist and he’s fucking me like a man on fire. He’s whispering my name over and over, Rev is grunting and making the most wonderful rutting animals noises deep from the back of his throat. I know I am going to cum, so I stop moving and let the moment wash over me. The two cocks are pounding inside of me at exactly the same time, and I let go.

I scream, a feral howl that astonishes me with its force. It rises up from somewhere inside, I’m getting ass fucked and my pussy is filled with cock, my mind can barely contain the flashes of light going off behind my lids as I close my eyes. I begin to sob with pleasure, deep rhythmic moans that match their thrusting. My pussy clenches so hard, Rev is done, he stabs upwards with one quick motion and shoots his load inside of me. I can feel it spilling out of me as his cock recedes. Hush is still going, he is holding onto my body like I’ll escape if he loosens his grip. He thrusts a few more times, my ass is really starting to ache, but I’m pushed into yet another orgasm. He pulls my hair and brings my head back to meet him, he bites my neck hard and pumps his hot cum inside my ass. I cry out as he finishes, the bite is painful but it adds to the intensity of the moment. I feel like he’s conquered me, taken me and ravaged me and left me with no means of escape.

I am his, completely. It’s like Rev no longer exists, Hush and I twist and squirm our release together with no thought of anyone but us. We fall off Rev, I’m still in the grip of his arms, and we entwine ourselves together the moment we hit the bed.

Chapter Eight

Disappearance and Loss

Some time during the night Rev gets up to leave. I think he’s feeling a little like a third wheel, Hush and I have really found each other again, once the lights were turned out.

“Hey guys,” Rev says in the darkened room, “So I’m gonna head ‘er.”

“Do you want me to turn on the lights?” I ask, ever the considerate hostess.

“No worry, I think all my clothes are by the front door,” he laughs. “Keep me in mind if you ever want to do this again, I wouldn’t mind a chance at your ass next time.”

Hush growls “Not likely, dude, that ass is mine.” He squeezes it under the covers and I giggle.

“Just sayin’,” Rev says, a grin in his voice. “Anyhow, take care, I’m just gonna let myself out if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” I tell him and add, “it was crazy fun.”

“It was. Remember, I’m the first person you call if he pisses you off,” Rev replies and opens the bedroom door. I hear him close the front door a few minutes later and I sink back into the magical happy bubble with Hush.

He pulls me against his chest and I sigh with contentment. His heart is beating so steady, and his arms around me make me feel secure, like nothing in the world could harm me ever again. Fuck you mom, I found happiness you skank. I smile against his chest and he asks, “What’s up, babe?”

“Nothing much,” I say, “just this, all of it. I’m so happy to have you.”

“Me too,” he replies, “And I meant it, when I said I loved you. I do love you.”

I don’t know how to reply. I’ve never told anyone else that I loved them. I mean, other than the old ‘I love you man’ to Eva. I don’t even remember ever saying those words to my mother, or grandmother or even my pet cat when I was a kid. I’m Jade, Jack, JD, and I don’t love.

But I love him, and I smile again in the darkness and softly say, “I know, and I love you too.”

We fall asleep like that, our arms around each other, our hearts beating together and our words of love hanging on our breath. I can understand why love makes the world go around, why all those shitty romances sell like hotcakes, and why everything on our planet always seems to lead back to love.

It’s fucking amazing, that’s why.

But my name is Jack Daniels, and I’m a fucking idiot. Nothing lasts forever, except misery, I knew that long ago and I should have remembered it. There are no fairy tales in my world, no happy endings and no Prince Charming with a crazy mohawk and beautiful blue-green eyes.

When I wake up, it’s bright. I reach for my phone and realize I left it in my purse where our clothes fell last night. Hush is gone, the bed is empty and his pillow is cold. He must have been gone for a while. I listen for him, thinking he must be in the kitchen or the bathroom, but the apartment has that singular silence that lets you know you’re alone.

I stretch and get out of bed slowly, thinking he must have stepped out to get us something to eat. He’s such a doll, always thinking of considerate things to make me happy.

I grab an old tattered robe, one I stole from a Holiday Inn years ago when mom and I were in between apartments. We’d never paid, and I’d scooped the plush, comfy robe as a bit of a consolation prize to myself for putting up with mom’s shit. It’s pretty ratty now, half the terry cloth is rubbed flat, and the other half has been dulled to a yellowish hue from the repeated washings, but I don’t care. I wrap it around me, and knot the belt. I tremble, somehow I know something’s up but I’m not ready to face it.

I walk into the living room, look at the front entrance and all of his clothes are gone. He’s gone.

I sit on the couch, not sure if I should laugh or cry. I mean, yeah, he could be out picking me up a chai latte and an oat bar from Starbucks, but then again my mom could really be Sharon Stone and my dad a fucking magical unicorn named Sparkles living in rainbow land.

I’ve been disappointed too many times to not know how it feels. Although calling this feeling disappointment is like calling the Grouse Grind a gentle walk in the park. Like calling Mount Everest a slight upthrust of rock. Like calling Hurricane Katrina a refreshing rainstorm.

I remember my phone, jump up and check it to see if there’s anything from him.

There are a bunch of texts, I scroll to the bottom and read up to the last one that was sent exactly forty eight minutes ago.

“Hey babe, I had to go, something came up.”

“Ok, I lied, I ran, babe, I’m a fucking coward.”

“I do love you though, I never lied about that.”

“I can’t do this, I’ve crossed so many lines it’s not funny.”

“I need to stop this before I hurt you.”

“I want you to find somebody who can open his life to you, you deserve that.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m really sorry.”

“I love you.”

The last text sat in its stupid fucking cartoon bubble mocking me. He fucking loves me? Fucking great, so love equals running for the hills the minute you get shit on your dick? I sit for a few more minutes, I debate texting him back, calling him, showing up at his place, but my cynical bitch has taken over and I almost scream “Fuck it all” at the top of my lungs.

People are assholes, my grandmother always used to say, they’ll shit on you the first chance they get. I hate that this is true with Hush, I hate that everything bad I think about the world has been verified by his shitty cowardice. I wish we had the time to let us fuck the relationship up, let it die on its own, kick it in the balls and fucking throat punch it until we can barely stand to be in the same room...you know, like most people do. But no, good old Jade had to pick the guy with the gorgeous eyes and the Disney Prince jaw and the smoking hot muscled body who cops out the moment he’s used up every hole and pushed her limits.

As if they’re possessed, my fingers start to type out a reply. I write, “fuck you,” and backspace, I write, “I never loved you,” and backspace. I write, “your a fucking joke”, see the horrible grammatical error and backspace it. Shit, I can’t end up looking like a fourth grade drop out if I’m trying to come up with a cutting reply.

At last I write, “I love you too,” and hit send. I throw my phone on the couch and walk to the bathroom. I run the shower a few minutes while I brush my teeth so the water gets nice and hot. There’s nothing worse than jumping in a cold shower, especially when your world is crumbling down around you. At least I can give myself that right now, a decent hot shower.

The tears come the moment I’m under the water. I heave and cough and can’t catch my breath, but I let them come. I know I’ll cry many more times over that fucking douche bag, but I need to get it out right now, I need to get rid of the sensation that I’ve been hit by a truck.

I ugly cry, full on ‘Farrah Fawcett in the shower after a rape’ ugly cry. Snot and tears mix on my chin and run down the front of me. I don’t even fucking clean it off. I stand there in my disgusting state and let it flow.

After a few minutes I feel a little better, so I scrub myself off, scrub Hush off of me. I pay special attention to my ass, making sure anything left of him is washed away, and I feel a little better. I will get through this.

I step out, dry off, and wrap my robe around me again. I don’t have to work for a couple of hours so I decide to make myself a gigantic greasy breakfast to help ease this suffering. I kinda wish I had a bump of coke to take the edge off, to dull the feelings, but I don’t, and I don’t like to get high before work anyhow.

I pull on some comfy clothes, an oversized Slayer tee I found for a buck at Value Village and a pair of faded Lululemons I found at the Laundromat. It wasn’t really stealing, right? They were in the lost and found bin for a few weeks in a row. Where else was I going to get overpriced yoga wear?

I fry a couple of slices of bacon and crack an egg right into the grease. I don’t care about calories or arteries clogging or any of that shit, if I am hell bent on self-destruction, let it be one delicious egg at a time.

I make a couple of slices of toast, grab the butter dish and it is fucking empty. I wanted fucking butter on my motherfucking toast, so I get down and look in the fridge. There are a lot of old take out containers back there, so I grab the trash bin and start throwing them out. I don’t even bother with the sniff test, I think half of them are fossilized already and probably growing new life forms. I wonder if mold creatures growing on Chinese food speaks Chinese? Halfway through cleaning out the fridge, I remember my eggs and toast and bacon. Fuck. I slam the door shut and walk to the table, everything is cold. The grease had congealed into a thick goo and the egg yolks looks positively disgusting. I sit in front of it and start to cry again. Hot, fat tears leak down my face and land on my shirt. No snot this time, thankfully, but I’m crying for the loss now rather than out of anger.

The door click and my stupid heart jumps, I think it’s him. It’s not, Eva and Diesel come in looking a little ragged, their night must have been pretty crazy.

“Hey Jade,” Eva calls as she shrugs her jacket off. Diesel takes it and hangs it up for her. They’re so fucking domestic it makes me want to puke.

“Hi there,” I say and look back at my egg.

“What’s going on?” Diesel asks from the doorway.

“What do you mean?” I say and try my best to look like a woman who hasn’t been crying all morning.

“Hush quit the band this morning, we all got a text,” he tells me and holds up his phone. “He said something about getting in too deep and he’d explain it to us some time.”

“Yeah, I got something like that too,” I say and hate how my lower lip trembles with uncried tears.

“Oh my God Jade, I’m sorry,” Eva tells me, then looks at Diesel and says, “I think you should go, we’re going to need some girl time.”

“Not a problem, we’ve got rehearsal later,” he says, “we’ve got to start auditioning guys tonight if we can, we’re going on tour next month.”

They kiss goodbye and Eva walks into the kitchen. She puts on some coffee and sits across from me. “Tell me everything,” she says and takes my hand.

I tell her as much as I can, not about being the DP queen or how much I love him, but I don’t have to say anything about the love part. She can tell.

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry,” she says, “This is the first time you’ve ever really fallen for somebody.”

“I know, it fucking sucks, never again.”

“Never say never, as they say, right?” She smiles at me.

“No, seriously, I’m done,” I reply. “From now on I’m sticking with casual sex and one night stands, no more love shit. I can’t do it again.”

“You’re saying that now, but you’ll feel differently if you meet somebody again,” she says, smiling again.

I don’t bother arguing, I don’t bother telling her to stop patronizing me and leave me alone, because in truth, she’s probably right. Human hearts are such pathetic, frail little things...like Ego wrapped in needy insecurity stuffed inside glass box, so easily shattered. I know I’ll fall for somebody again, and I know I’ll probably cry for somebody again. If my mother taught me one thing, it’s that the cycle of love and heartbreak is unending until the day you die.

Hush had given me hope though, that I might escape my mother’s fate, but he pulled it away as quickly as he gave it. Fuck him for making me believe in fairy tales, and fuck him right in the goat eye for ever making me feel that way. My life was better off without him and I hate him for showing me the Promised Land then denying me entrance.

I don’t tell Eva this. She’ll never get it, how much I did for him, how much I opened up for him. I’m humiliated because of this, I even skipped my fucking GED exam for him, I’m such a fool. Instead I smile back and squeeze her hand. I take the coffee when it’s ready and I tell her the things she needs to hear to feel like she’s being a supportive friend. I go through the motions until I can crawl back into bed for a few minutes and close my eyes and pretend Hush is there next to me.

I would stay there for days if I could, but I have to work tonight, so I force myself up and get dressed and make each foot step one in the other until somehow I’m there.

Jag can tell something’s up, but he doesn’t pry. He’s my favourite person in the world right now. I wish more people would mind their fucking business and stay out of my life.

The night progresses slowly, I get the usual freaks and creeps, jerk offs and slime balls. I don’t give a fuck though, I don’t clean the porn booths and I’m sure I’m short on the till, but I don’t have any fucks to give.

Around four in the morning, my phone buzzes. It’s Hush. I can barely read it my hands are shaking so hard. It reads: “Hey babe, can’t stop thinking of you. I need to do some shit but I’ll be back. I promise. Love you.”

I want to smash my phone on the counter and grind my heel into the shards. An impotent rage sweeps through my body and I don’t know how I should respond. So I don’t. I can’t. I hate being at his beck and call, I hate him having all the power here and I hate feeling so fucking helpless I want to ball myself up and scream into a pillow.

I had enough of that in childhood, so I archive the entire conversation, everything I’ve ever said to Hush and he’s said to me. It’s gone from my text screen and I decide to erase it from my heart. It never happened.

Now if I could just convince myself of that.

Time passes slowly without him in my life. He was with me for a month and a half, but I feel his absence like a missing limb. I keep waking up waiting for the day I feel whole again.

Three weeks since he left, and I still grab my phone first thing in the morning to see if he’s texted. There’s been nothing since the last one. Eva and I have talked about it, she thinks he’s in rehab. I like to think he’s in jail with a horny biker dude living on the top bunk. I’d even be happy if he just went to have a sex change, but in all honesty I have no idea. I’m bored of talking about it now.

Diesel has been no help. He swears he hasn’t talked to Hush, but I don’t know, maybe guys just stick together. I haven’t seen him around as much this last week though, the band is getting ready for a cross Canada tour, then they’re dipping down into the States, and coming back here in three months. I don’t think Eva’s going to be able last that long without him.

One morning, or early afternoon, I’m not sure, I’m curled up in bed rereading one of my favourite books, no, not The Joy of Sex, I’m talking Catcher in the Rye. I have an old paperback copy left by one of the posers my mom dated at one time. He used to say he was a self styled Holden Caulfield without understanding the character. I read it one night when they were out partying it up and fell in love. I saw myself in Holden, that cynical, hypocritical phony, right down to being unable to see the good parts of myself. That fucking idiot boyfriend didn’t deserve to call himself Holden, let alone pull the book out to read quotes at social gatherings, so I stole it.

Mom’s slimy boyfriend went nuts looking for it, he tore apart the motel room of the week in a frantic search, but never did find it. He was one of the few who never tried to fondle me, so I hid it in the last place he’d think to look for it, down the front of my pants. I think we blamed the housekeeping staff, mom got in a screaming match in front of our room with one of them, which lead to our unceremonious eviction.

I still read that same faded, dog-eared copy to this day. I’m curled under my blankets letting the warmth of my breath heat up the little space. It’s June, and unseasonably chilly and rainy in Vancouver. I’m also hiding in my little cocoon, hiding from Eva or Jag or anybody else I’d possibly run into because I’m tired of their worried looks. I know I’m not back to normal; I don’t need the constant fucking reminders.

I stop because I think I hear something. I listen for a moment, decide it’s in my head and get back to reading. I hear it again, a cry or a whimper or a cat outside, I can’t tell what it is. I put my book down and roll the covers back, the cold air hits me and I shiver. There it is again, definitely from inside our building, maybe the stuck up bitch upstairs is finally getting a good deep-dish dicking. I smile and pick my book up again. I’m about to pull the covers over me again when I hear it, louder and coming from inside our apartment. I throw the covers off, toss the book onto my pillow and go to find the source of the noise.

It’s Eva; she’s in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror sobbing. She’s an ugly crier too, I note with the smallest amount of satisfaction. I swear, just a tiny little bit of me feels good that she looks ugly sometimes.

“Hey,” I say and she jumps. She turns around slowly and I can see something in her hand.

“He’s a fucking pig,” she sobs, “… a fucking pig.” She holds her hand out, I take the phone and read the last text, it’s from Diesel.

He wrote: “Come on, I like u but u can’t imagine I’ll keep it in my pants when I’m on the road.”

“Uh,” I say and run out of words. Yeah, fuck, what a good friend I am. So fucking supportive. “You’re not going to stay with him, are you?”

She starts crying harder, doesn’t answer and I hand the phone back to her. I don’t know what to say, but I have a creeping feeling that my life from this moment on will never be the same.

Finally the empathy part of my brain kicks in and I step towards her. I put my hand around her shoulder, she feels too thin and I wonder if she’s been eating properly. I lead her to the kitchen and sit her down, I start to make a pot of coffee, then worry that the caffeine will just ramp her up and add to her misery.

I decide on some caffeine free tea instead and set one down in front of her after the kettle heats up. “How did this happen?” I ask.

“I asked him if I could go along on the tour,” she replies, her voice shaky.

“And I take it he said no?”

“He did! That fucker, he said no because he wants some strange when he’s on the road.”

“What a fucking piece of shit, I’m sorry,” I say and sit down across from her. “I guess we both managed to find the shadiest assholes to fall for, hey?”

She manages a weak smile, takes a sip of tea and replies, “Yeah, right? I love him though. I really love him. This fucking sucks.” Tears slide out of her closed lids and slip down her cheeks. I wish there was something I could do for Eva, my best friend on the planet, but at this point I don’t even know how to help myself.

“What are you going to do? Did you break up with him?”

“I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know if I can,” she says. “I know how stupid that sounds, but we were planning our future together…” She trails off and we sit in silence, each in our misery, so similar but worlds apart. After a few moments she adds, “I need to make him choose, it’s me or the bitches he meets on the road. He’s got to choose me, right? After all we’ve talked about?”

She looks at me with such sadness and hope that I smile and lie to her, “Of course he’ll pick you, he’d be insane not to.”

Eva mopes around the apartment for a couple of days before she confronts Diesel. I’m not sure backing him into a corner is the right thing to do; I have a feeling he’s going to react badly.

I must be a fucking psychic, but I guess you don’t need a sixth sense to figure out that young punk rock lead singer dude isn’t exactly going to fall on his knees and propose when he’s given an ultimatum.

I get home from work a little late, it’s nine in the morning when I stagger in. I need sleep and I need to numb my head with just a small hit on my pipe. I’ve gotten this amazing weed from the Kootenays that helps put me to sleep like nobody’s business.

I head to my room and pack the bowl of my pipe. I’m about to spark it up when I hear screaming from Eva’s room.

I run to find her hunched on the floor, her face a red mask of rage. She’s holding her phone in her hand and she says, “I hate him, I fucking hate him so much,” and sobs.

I take the phone from her hand and read the last text from Diesel. It says, “Yo, just do what you need to do, I’m out. It wasn’t going anywhere anyhow. See you round.”

“This is his reaction to your talk?” I ask.

“Yes,” she wails and visibly tries to calm herself down. She manages to get out the rest of the story between sobs. “He came over last night, they’re leaving on tour in a few days. He told me he didn’t want to be monogamous while he was away. He basically told me to fuck who I wanted, because he was going to.”

“Son of a bitch, I wish I could cock punch him for you,” I say and hand her phone back. I can’t say much more, I’m lost in my own world of worry. Is this why Hush ran out on me? Is he out there somewhere fucking new pussy and laughing at the stupid bitch he left behind?

Chapter Nine

Transition is a Shitty Word

A couple of weeks after Diesel’s departure, life feels like it’s returned to normal. Maybe.

There were a few shitty nights where Eva would pace and cry about Diesel, but mostly she was fine about it. I think she mourned the loss of the idea of a relationship more than the actual relationship.

Work was the most pleasant consistent thing in my life. I felt like the old Looney Tunes cartoon with the two dogs trading shifts whenever I took over for Jag. Generally we barely say more than ten words to each other so it surprised me when today of all days he hangs around after I get there. He looks a little uncomfortable and I worry that he’s going to proposition me for a BJ or something. I have had very few men in my life that don’t try to fuck me, so he’s been more valuable than he could ever realize.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks as I settle in behind the register.

“Doing what? I’m getting ready to work.”

“Exactly, this, working here, doing nothing with your life?”

“Slow down, Dad,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “how do you know I’m doing nothing with my life?”

“You have the look of somebody doing nothing. You come in here night after night, mope for a few hours, sigh a hundred times a minute and constantly check your phone. What happened?”

Awe, how fucking sweet; Jag does care. I knew it! “I’m just doing what I do best, working hard and keeping my head down. I don’t really need to do much more.

“You are too intelligent to be wasting your life in this shit hole,” he keeps going. “I’ve watched you coming in like clockwork for three years now, and it’s time you made a change.”

“I’m too old for change,” I say, not really liking where this is going. I know what I want to do with my life, but I don’t want to want, not after everything I’ve learned in this life. Wanting lets me down, needing leaves me empty.

“Bullshit,” he guffaws. “You know that’s bullshit.”

The way he pronounces bullshit makes me chuckle, but seeing how Jag almost never swears, I do take what he says seriously. I pull back my knee jerk reaction to come out fighting and force myself to reply as kindly as possible, “Thanks for your input, but I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you, this job.”

He holds up a little bundle of papers and says, “I think you do. I found these in the drawer under the register. You want to get your GED, why? You don’t need it to work here.”

He’s got my study kit that the college sent me to prep for my test. Fuck, I knew I should have thrown it out when I ditched the test. “It was a whim, a passing fancy,” I say and clench my fists. I don’t like being backed into a corner like this but I don’t want to fight him. “I’m apparently not smart enough to take the exam anyways.”

He stares at me, shakes his head and says, “We both know that’s complete and utter bullshit. And I had a feeling you would say that, so I took the liberty to sign up for you.”

“What do you mean?” I demand. How dare he interfere in my life? Fuck I’m getting sick of people lately.

“I want you to do this, I don’t want to see you sitting here rotting away, doing nothing,” he tells me. “I’m going to fire you.”

The air leaves my lungs and I can’t breath. I don’t like change, and this has been the steadiest thing in my life, pretty much ever. “You can’t fire me, now that’s bullshit,” I yell at him. Fuck, what the fucking fuck is wrong with these fuckers lately? My life feels like it’s on shaky ground and I need something to hang on to. My brain instantly jumps to booze, drugs, sex, anything to make me feel sane again.

“I am going to fire you if you don’t promise me you’ll go take the test,” Jag says, his voice calm and forceful. “I’ve talked about this with my wife and she agrees, you need to do something with your life.”

“Your wife? What, your arranged marriage child bride?” I sneer. “What the fuck does a housewife know about this shit?” I’m instantly sorry for sounding like such a racist douche to the nicest man I know, but I can’t hold back. I’m frightened by his demands.

“Actually, my wife is a nurse, she insisted on getting her education before we were married,” he smiled, the love in his eyes as he speaks of her makes me feel even more like a gigantic douche. “That’s part of the reason I fell in love with her. And yes, it was highly suggested that we marry, but most arranged marriages are rather loving and happy.”

I know this; I mean I’m not really a racist, judgmental piece of shit, I just don’t know how to react when I feel like my buttons are being pushed. I just want to know that I can go to sleep in my comfy bed in my apartment, maybe read a book, rub one off, and get up to the same predictable day. I love the movie Groundhog Day; that kind of consistency is intoxicating to me. If I need to blow off some steam, I’ve got Eva and I’ve got my music, my clubs and drugs and anonymous sex. Hush ruined this for me, with his promise of a Plenty of Fish style fucking romance. I can’t handle Jag trying to ruin the delusion that I’m no better than the life of drudgery in a disgusting porn shop in a shady part of town.

“I know,” I reply, beaten. He’s serious and I don’t want to shove back in case he fires me on the spot.

He hands me the GED study guide and some assorted papers. “I’ve highlighted your test time, you can take four days off before so you can study,” he tells me, “with pay. I want you to do this.”

I nod and take them from him. I don’t know what to say so I say nothing. Saying thank you is not easy for me, but I don’t think Jag expects it, he knows what it means to me when I accept the arrangement.

He grabs his briefcase and shrugs his jacket on. He walks to the door and turns back as he leaves. “Have a good night Jade, and I know you can do this. I believe in you.”

I raise my hand and give him a little wave. At this point I definitely can’t tell him thank you, I can barely keep the tears down that are threatening to choke my speech.

He’s gone, so I sit down and open up the study guide. It’s all easy, stuff I knew years ago. The thing is, I know I’ll ace this test, I know everything they want me to know, I’ve just never wanted to do well before. The concept is foreign to me.

In third grade I was doing grade five work. I was bored amongst my peers, so for shits and giggles, my teacher Mrs. Lawson gave me some math and reading from a couple of grades ahead. I ate that shit up. Anything anyone told me stuck, it was in there forever no matter how much I tried to forget. Everything stuck, from mom screaming ‘you ugly little slut’ when she was on a bender, all the way to the Fermat’s last theorem. It all stuck.

By the by, I wasn’t a slut for the years I lived with my mother. I wasn’t a slut at birth. I came by it honestly but surprisingly didn’t lose my virginity until grade twelve. I was almost eighteen, I’d already dropped out of school and thought there was no harm letting some fucking poser from London take a stab at me with his five inches of thunder. It wasn’t bad though, the false sense of connection with another human being, so I became a slut. I was in control of my sexuality…until Hush came along.

Either way, everything I ever learned or heard or felt…it’s all in there, from age two to now. When Mrs. Lawson called my mom in for a meeting, I was spanked the night before. Mom assumed it was for something bad, in spite of my screaming protests.

When Mrs. Lawson suggested I skip a few grades and join the gifted students club after school, my mom had shut her down.

“I don’t want no kid of mine thinkin’ she’s all that,” mom had said. “It’s bad enough she’s such a judgmental little bitch already, you keep pumping her full of shit like this and she’ll start to think she’s better than me n’ her step dad.”

I wasn’t sure which step dad she had been referring to, she had been fucking two different men that time, both of them married to other people. I told you, mom was a piece of work.

“But Mrs. Daniels, she’s smart enough to move ahead, and she told me she has nothing to do after school,” Mrs. Lawson had told my mom. “It would free up some time for you, and I’ll make sure she gets fed.”

“Are you trying to tell me I can’t take care of my own fuckin’ kid?” mom had snarled. “This meeting’s over, she’s not going to your little nerd club, and she’s comin’ straight home after school whether you like it or not! Come on Jack, we’re goin’!”

I avoided looking Mrs. Lawson in the eye on their way out. I couldn’t bear seeing my beloved teacher’s pride turn to sympathy.

That night I got one fuck of a beating, first for being too smart, and second for being an ugly little slut. We moved a week or so after that, so I hadn’t had to suffer Mrs. Lawson’s sympathetic glances for too long.

But I learned a hard lesson that time. To survive meant to hide my intelligence and never let mom think I was putting on airs. A lifetime of camouflaging my intelligence was not easy to slough off, but I was starting to admit to myself this is what I want. Hush had shaken my world, maybe it was a good thing, maybe a little shaking up would allow me to land somewhere else, a little closer to going to university and living a life as normal as I could stomach it.

I hear the buzzer and look up to find Rev swaggering in, a grin on his face.

“Hey there,” he says, “got any discount dildos for sale? Maybe a return? I’m not too picky.”

“Haha, gross,” I reply and laugh. He really is a cheeky bastard, but in a sort of cute way. Fuckable. Again. The only problem is that the last time I saw him was the last time I saw Hush, the first time we had said I love you and the first time he decided to bail.

“So, I was expecting a call,” he says.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I told you to call me when that loser decided he wasn’t good enough for you,” he smirks and steps closer to me. I’m up about six inches on the raised platform behind the register, this puts us a little closer to being eye to eye. I think he’s still got ten inches or so on me, I’d forgotten how tall he is.

“Maybe I decided he wasn’t good enough for me,” I say, and smile to hide my little wince of heartache.

“That’s a good thing,” he says and leans even closer. He smells good, like decent body wash and that musky scent that rutting men seem to give off. He’s ready to fuck, but I can’t do it at work again. It’s not professional. Ha, who am I fooling, I stubbornly want to leave that memory for Hush. “We all heard about him ditching though, you and the band. That was low, you deserve better.”

I’m inclined to agree with him, but his swagger is a little too player to make me think he could be the one to give it to me. I could go for a slight improvement, though, kill a little time before I find better. I lean forward half an inch, maybe a full one, and he pounces. He puts his arms around me and draws me in, tilts my face up with a finger and kisses me. It’s a genuinely sweet kiss; it almost makes my eyes tear up with its sincerity. Maybe I have him pegged wrong, maybe he really does like me.

His hands move down my back and grab my ass. There we are, there’s the player. I know he’s thinking about Hush pounding into me, matching his rhythm, tearing me apart. And I know he wants to get there, to slide his own cock head past my tight ring and split me open, filling me with his cum as we grunt like mindless animals.

I consider it, I really do. I want to have somebody feel me, run their hands over my body and make me forget about Hush.

If only it were that easy.

I pull back a little and break our kiss. I smile up at him and say, “That was nice.”

“Yeah, it was,” he says and leans down to embrace me. Over his shoulder, in the light of a streetlamp, I swear I see him.

I pull away from Rev and run to the front of the store. It’s him, it’s got to be, but it doesn’t look like him, not really. I recognize the stride, those long confident footsteps that always excited me to the edge of desire just thinking about him walking towards my bed. This version of him doesn’t have a spiked mohawk sticking proudly ten inches off the top of his head, it doesn’t have a leather jacket covered in chains, or plaid skinny jeans, or knee high boots. This version has the hair slicked back into a tight ponytail, is wearing a preppy jacket and what looks like suit pants and leather loafers. I open the door and yell at him down the street. “Hush,” I call, “come back…” but he turns the corner and is gone.

Back inside Rev’s eyes show me that he knows I’m not over Hush.

“I’m sorry, I thought-” I start to apologize for being a fucking heartsick idiot, but he cuts me off.

“Like I said before, call me when you’re over him,” he tells me, running his fingers through my shaggy hair. “Don’t wait too long. Don’t wait for him, ok?”

I promise him I won’t and we spend another hour or so shooting the shit and talking about his studio work. He’s recording an album and the excitement in his voice inspires me to share my own news.

I’m going to university in the Fall. Now I just have to break it to Eva.

Chapter Ten

New Beginnings Fucking Suck

This is hard. I’m scared as hell and don’t know what to wear. How do I pick something that says, ‘hey I belong here, I’m not some old washed up punk ass bitch crashing your happy little party’. Fuck it, I gotta wear what feels comfortable, and today comfortable is a pair of skinny jeans, faded and ripped, with black lace tights underneath. Thrown over top is my favourite Revolting Cocks tee, it’s a little threadbare, but it gives me confidence. I know, not punk, but I’m not a one trick pony, I can branch out when need be. And who doesn’t love Beers, Steers and Queers? I mean, come on, it’s one of the best fuck songs this side of the Pacific. The beat, the lyrics, makes me want to grind my snatch against somebody’s leg until I gush.

I grab my backpack...fucking backpack, it’s like I’m living somebody else’s life. I’m not the kind of girl who carries a backpack. It brings me a little pride though, and after taking my GED and passing with a near perfect score, I feel like I need to let my geek flag fly.

I take the bus to the Skytrain and head out to Douglas College, in New Westminster. Back to my old stomping ground so to speak. I don’t know if my mom lives out here anymore, but even if she does, I doubt she’s anywhere in the vicinity of the college. She’s also like a sagging, middle aged, alcoholic vampire; she doesn’t do well in the light of day.

Almost three months have passed since Hush walked out on me. I thought I saw him a couple more times, but never could catch up with the mysterious loafer wearing figure on Granville Street, so I don’t know. I like to think it’s him, and he misses me as much as I miss him, but even if it is…why the fuck doesn’t he call?

Eva just about fell off her chair when I told her I was going to school, I seriously thought I’d killed her, but she got over it. She’s been so damn mopey since the break up, and I honestly don’t know how to shake her out of it. She’s tried to get me to go out a few times, but much to my surprise, it’s not that appealing anymore. I don’t want to admit I’m finally growing the fuck up or anything, but I want to take things seriously now. I’ll be twenty-three in a few months and the thought of blinking and being ten years older without ever having tried to live my dreams terrifies me. So here I am, thinking I’m people, getting my learning on.

My first class is English. I think I’m a shoe in, I speak English really well. Yeah, the lady in the registrar’s office didn’t think it was funny either. I’m just trying a few subjects out, but somehow I think I’d like Sociology or History. I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do with a Bachelor’s degree in either, but at the very least I’ll be able to feel superior when I hand you your burger order.

After that, it’s Sociology. Tomorrow I have three classes, Biology, Math and a Creative Writing course. I’m taking the full course load, Jag’s letting me work on the weekends and I have enough saved up to pay for the term without taking out loans. I know I’m better off than most people my age, in terms of money, but I still have the continual anxious gnawing in the pit of my stomach that I’ll never have enough. It comes from growing up super poor.

I don’t feel out of place at all, but I still find a spot in the back of the lecture hall, just in case I need to bolt, I guess. I don’t know why I’d have to bolt, but I like to plot my escape routes in any case.

Class is good, the next one even better. I head home feeling my confidence building. I think I’m going to do pretty well in this place.

As soon as I walk through the door, I know something’s wrong. I can’t put my finger on it at first, but something feels different. Eva isn’t around, but the place looks like something is out of place. I hear her key in the lock and wait until she comes in. She’s got two huge pieces of luggage with her, obviously empty and obviously very expensive.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask.

“We need to talk,” she says and my heart sinks. Those four little words have never ended well for anyone hearing them.

“About what?” I ask.

“I can’t keep doing this, going through the motions,” she says, “after everything that happened I can’t fake it any more.”

“What do you mean fake it?” I reply. “I thought you were doing really well.”

“I’m not,” she admits, “it’s all too much, I’ve started really thinking about what I’m doing with my life. I’ve been drifting for so many years, I always thought it was all for fun, but now I’m not so sure. I need to find my path.”

“I totally get that,” I say, “I mean, look at me going to school and all.” I laugh and grab her hand. “You need to do what it takes to feel right again, I support you in this.”

“I really wanted a future with him,” she says suddenly. “I wanted to be with him forever, it’s the first time I’ve ever thought about that, you know. I thought about settling down and having a baby and everything. He said he wanted it too, but you know…”

I shudder at the thought, I can’t imagine wanting a baby, but I know Eva might be longing for a family of her own. She’s been wild for the ten years I’ve known her; I suppose it could only go on for so long. “I understand,” I tell her, “it’s not something I can imagine wanting, but I can see the appeal.”

She sighs and looks forlorn. “I’m going to stay with my aunt in Dublin for a few months, I’ve signed up for an art course and I’m going to try my best to avoid the clubs. One night stands have started exhausting me, I don’t know how I can keep going on.”

“Oh wow, fuck. That’s a long ways away from me,” I say and feel panic rising. She’s my best friend…my only friend. The person I can jump into bed with a four in the morning when I need to work something out in my head. She’s my go-to when I can’t tell if somebody is a loser or worth fucking.

“Don’t worry, I’ll call you all the time,” she says, “I’m sure you’ll get sick of it. We can text too, so I don’t bug you during class.”

“Send me a four leaf clover,” I tell her, “Or at least some good Irish bud.”

She laughs and says, “Promise you’re not mad at me, ok?”

I give her a hug and say, “How could I ever be? You’re my best friend and, well, you know…I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says and giggles. “I never thought I’d hear you tossing around the love thing so easily, I’m impressed. I didn’t think they taught that kind of thing at college.”

“Haha, you’d better write down the date, I don’t know if I’ll say it again any time soon.”

“Will do,” she replies, “and don’t worry about the place, ok? Dad said he’ll keep covering the rent until we figure out what to do. It’s his tax shelter or something.”

Fuck, I hadn’t even thought about that. “Thank God for your parents or I’d be out on my ass in the cold,” I say, “I hadn’t even thought about a place to live.”

“They adore you, they would never get rid of you. You’re like that sad faced lost puppy who followed me home and never left. You’re pretty much one of the family now,” she tells me.

“Oh thanks, I didn’t realize I was that pathetic,” I reply, but I’m not offended. I was pretty fucking pathetic back then.

“You know you were so cute, but had these big scared eyes. I’m so proud of you though, that you’ve finally decided that you’ll show the world you’re a smart girl! It was painful, watching you try and fake it all these years,” she laughs. “My parents are proud of you too, my dad keeps asking when I’m going to figure my shit out, so in a way you’ve given me the push I needed.” She looks down, a shadow of sadness moves across her face. I rub her arm with nothing to add. She finally looks up and chirps, “You wanna help me pack?”

“Sure, I guess. I’m wearing what you don’t take though, I’ll warn you now.”

“I would expect no less,” she says and picks up one of the suitcases. I take the other one and we spend the afternoon stuffing them full of the things she will need for her trip. She isn’t leaving for a few days, but I know Eva will probably unpack and repack her things a thousand times before then.

A few days after Eva’s departure, I’m in bed under my thick blanket. I’m hiding from the empty apartment, trying to pretend I’m not completely alone.

I kill some time reading for my Sociology course, turn out the light and fuck around on my phone. Facebook is as boring as shit, some cousin I’ve never met got promoted, fucking awesome. Oh look, dude I fucked three years ago who hunted me down got engaged. I wonder if he told his fiancée how much he loves sucking cock. I chuckle and shake my head, what an ass.

I don’t know what I did, a slip of my fat peasant fingers, or some subconscious desire to see his face, but I find myself on the Bondo fan page. Well, since I’m here, I might as well take a peak. It all starts off innocently enough, ok, who the fuck do I think I’m fooling? I want to see him…I need to see him. I scroll through some photos of the band on tour, Diesel is in most of them, looking like the gigantic fucking douche that bag he is, thrashing and screaming into the mic. He’s gotten a small mohawk, it’s green, I guess he’s a fucking copy cat and poser too. The guy who replaced Hush on bass isn’t bad looking, he’s blonder and younger, but fuckable...if I were still into that whole selfish asshole piece of shit musician thing.

I keep scrolling, happily mocking every pathetic little venue and bored looking crowds when his face pops up. Hush. They’ve caught him in mid-riff, whoever the photographer was, his eyes are slightly closed and he looks like he’s in pure ecstasy. He looks like he does when he fucks me. Fucked me. Past tense.

My hand starts to shake and I want to get up, throw the phone into the street and run to the nearest club to pick up somebody for some meaningless, cheap, nasty sex. All of this, Hush, the photo, it makes me feel used and desperate, and I hate myself for ever loving him

I click ‘done’ and back out of the band page. I have to stop torturing myself with this...this longing. I’ve never had anything to want before, before Hush, and I am longing for him, for the brief few weeks I felt like I had everything I wanted. Eva was happy with Diesel, I was happy with Hush and everything was right with the world.

Fuck my whiny bullshit, I’m tired of feeling like this so I close the app and hit contacts. I hover my finger over Rev’s number and hesitate. Why don’t I call him? I know he’d be here in minutes, fresh face and energized by the brisk air and the promise of pussy. I don’t call because I’ve still got Hush on my mind and I feel heartsick at the thought of saying goodbye for good.

The self-destructive badass in me is horny though. I’m tired of pretending to be mature and responsible, I’m tired of being heartsick and Goddammit, I need a good fuck. The badass takes over and presses his number.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey, hey, hey, I thought you’d never call.” His smug voice makes me instantly regret it, but knowing he’s packing a pretty decent cock makes me answer.

“Hey Rev, what’s up?”

“Nothing yet, what ya want?”

“You, come over now.”

He hesitates and for half a heartbeat I’m sure he’s going to say ‘no, I have a girlfriend’, or ‘no, you’re gross’. I fucking hate that creeping insecurity I go through every time I put myself out there.

Luckily Rev isn’t cruel and he only keeps me hanging for that small moment.

“Hell yeah, give me a few minutes to wrap up here and I’ll be there. You need anything?”

“No, just a fat cock, you think you can help me out?” I reply and smile into the phone.

“I thought we were being subtle, doll, but I like the way you roll. Don’t come without me.” He says, then laughs and hangs up.

I leap out of bed and run to the bathroom to clean up. Fuck, I really should try and look presentable before calling. I’ll have to remember that the next time I want a booty call. My hair is growing out and is coming in pretty dark. I like it, but at the moment it looks like something a cat ate and puked back up. I have a giant hairball on my head. Fuck. I grab some of Eva’s abandoned styling product and rub it through to the ends. I twist and rub it; nothing is working until it falls into the perfect style. A motherfucking God damned faux hawk; the bane of my existence. I screw my face up and growl at myself in the mirror. Fuck it, it’s kinda cute on me and I don’t think Rev’s coming over to compare hairstyles.

I slap on some black eyeliner, loving the Joan Jett look, and give myself a whore’s wash. I run a warm washcloth under my arms and across my pussy, get the stank out. I hope Rev’s gonna go downtown tonight, my cunt is aching for some eager lapping. Fuck, why didn’t I invite him over sooner? I forgot about how much sex makes me feel alive. If only I could bottle up this excitement and main line it every day, I’d never have to touch another human being or risk having my heart destroyed every time I open my cunt for a good time.

I rush out to the living room and sweep a pile of newspapers under a pillow on the couch, head to the kitchen and brush the crumbs into the sink, throw all the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and stop to look around.

Fuck, I’m a slob. Less than a week on my own and the place looks like hell. I remind myself to hire a cleaning woman a few days before Eva gets back so she doesn’t bounce me out on my filthy ass. Maybe that homeless hipster dude was my soul mate after all.

I’m wearing a black bra and black boy undies that have a red pair of lips on one ass cheek. I wonder if Rev’s gonna go for some anal action tonight and assess the lube situation. I’m good. I’ve got enough to get greased up like pig at a county fair. Without a plug of coke up my ass, I need to be right oiled up to take it from behind.

Last thing is music; with Eva gone I am completely in charge of the surround sound in the living room. The bitch upstairs is probably going to move out before Eva’s back if I keep up with the Misfits on full volume much longer. I can’t help it, I need the music to keep me a little less lonely when I’m making dinner or studying. Good old-fashioned punk is much better than the break up depressing pseudo country shit I’ve been listening to.

I barely hear the knock on the door over the bass. Sometimes I hate Hush for ruining bass for me, I remember that night I met him and connected to the music on such a deep level.

Rev looks fantastic. I don’t know if it’s that a burger looks like prime rib to a starving man, or I seriously underestimated his hotness because of Hush. His body is pretty fucking tight, he obviously works out and cares about his appearance. He smells delicious, again his musk is mixing with an intoxicating shower gel to create the perfect, “I’m gonna fuck you” stink.

“Hey you,” I say and open the door wide. I can’t help the grin on my face as he walks in. He kicks his high tops off on the mat and shrugs out of his jacket. He hands it to me and I turn as though I’m going to hang it, and promptly drop it on the floor next to his shoes.

“Oh, cheeky, I like that,” he says and reaches for me. His hands are all over me in an instant, and I go limp, allowing my body to be pulled against his. I can feel his rock hard cock in his pants and his breath tastes like mint when he kisses me. He must have also cleaned himself up before he came over; this flatters me.

We break apart and I say, “I’m always cheeky, you’ll get used to it. Do you want a drink?”

“I brought you something,” he says and hands me a brown paper bag. I open it up to see that he’s brought me an elegant green bottle of Absinthe.

“I hope this isn’t that fake Czech shit they pass off as the real deal,” I say and immediately hate how ungrateful I sound. He looks perturbed.

“I don’t think it is, I’m apparently not an expert, but the clerk assured me it was mind fuckingly delicious.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a pretentious fuck, it’s my go-to defense mechanism. What I meant to say is thank you for the lovely gift, shall we crack it open?”

“Definitely,” he replies, puts his arm around my waist and kisses the top of my head, to the side of the faux hawk. “You don’t need to be defensive around me, Jade. I don’t bite and I really like you...like, really like you.”

I lean against him but can’t stop the deep fluttering in my stomach that tells me this might have been a bad idea. It isn’t exactly fair to use him to alleviate my boredom while I know Hush still pumps through my veins with every heartbeat. Maybe I’ll learn to love him like I loved Hush, I try to tell myself, but somewhere, deep inside, I know I never will.

It just so happens that we have a slotted Absinthe spoon in the apartment from one of Eva’s family trips to Europe. They had always tried to drag me along, but I could never quite get the courage up to intrude on their vacations the same way I had on their regular lives. Weird, I know. I place a sugar cube in the middle and pour the Absinthe over, letting the sugar dissolve. I make two drinks this way, hand him one and down mine in one shot.

I don’t bother with the sugar by the third drink, and don’t notice that he’s still nursing his first. I just love the warmth creeping through my body from my stomach, radiating outwards. This enables me to ditch the cynic and embrace the needy, horny side of me.

“You look amazing,” Rev says, “I love the hair.” His own hair is now shaggy and styled forward around his face, I love the tousled Beatles look it gives him. Shaggy, shag, hehe.

“Thanks, you do too, is that a new tat?” I ask and point at the snake encircling his forearm.

“Good eye, it is. It’s the beginning of a full sleeve, the Adam and Eve fable on my arms,” he replies. He holds the other one out and I see the tree with Renaissance Adam and Eve underneath. Very cool.

“Nice work, I’m thinking of more myself,” I say.

“I remember your ink.” He replies, and smiles, “It’s gorgeous, you can tell you put a lot of thought into it.”

I smile back in smug satisfaction. I love it when people notice that I care about the work on my body. I know it could be hollow flattery, but I’ll make the conscious choice to take the compliment.

“Thanks,” I say and pour myself another drink. I down it in one long gulp, the bitter fire no longer making my throat clench in protest. “So, what now?”

He grabs my glass and sets it on the counter with his, then turns to me and says, “I think you know.” And I do know, I see it in his eyes and I feel it in my pussy. We are going to fuck, raw, raunchy nasty fuck. I need this so bad I can almost taste it, I will be tasting it soon enough.

I reach up and pull him down to meet my urgent kiss. He complies and wraps his arms around me. I feel him pulling me up against him, higher and higher until my legs start to wrap around him instinctively. He pushes me up onto the counter and runs his hand up my inner thigh. He shoves my knees farther apart, leaving no question as to where he wants to be. I feel him prod my slit with his fingers, finding my clit with one rough tip. He rubs it gently while we kiss, and I can feel the music pulsing through my body as I grind against him. I feel free again, for a few moments I can forget that Hush ever came into my world, that I’m back to square one.

I reach down and pull at his jeans, trying to get his cock out. I want to fuck my way to relationship amnesia; I want him to pound any remnants of Hush out of my memories. He helps and soon I feel the head sliding up my inner thigh. I want him inside of me and try to pull him inside of me.

He teases me though, he rubs the head of his cock along my slit, it’s soon slick with my juices, and he pushes through to touch my clit.

“Come on,” I almost whine with urgency and try to adjust ass on the counter to pull him inside of me. Of course it doesn’t work, he pulls back so he’s still rubbing my clit and driving me mad, I’m a bitch in heat panting for his sex.

“What do you want?” he whispers in my ear, his voice hoarse with longing. At least this is driving him as mad as it is me.

“I want you to fuck me,” I reply immediately, no longer giving a shit if I seem desperate. I am desperate and I need cock.

“Do you want me?” he asks, sliding his cock down to rest right at my opening. I wrap my legs around him tighter and insist he comes on in. He laughs and resists.

“I do, I want you inside of me, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight, I want you to fill my cunt with your cum and then do it all again,” I breathe against his ear. I feel his cock jump when I say that, so I know we’re on the same wavelength.

“I know you want me to fuck you,” he says and slides maybe half an inch inside of me, parting my cunt and setting my slit on fire with need. “I know you want me to bury myself inside of you, to fuck you until you can’t walk, to flood your pussy and make you lap our juices off my dick. I know this,” he continues, pulling out, then sliding in again, just a fraction, and adds, “But what I want to know, is do you want me?”

I clue in to what he’s getting at. I don’t really want him, at least in the way that he wants me to want him. Does it make me a bad person to use him for sex and to get over Hush? They say the best way to get over one man is to get under a new one, so here I am giving it a shot. I don’t think that makes me a horrible person, and to be honest, at this point I don’t fucking care. I’m back down to horny cavewoman level. Cunt, cock, cum, pussy, dick, fuck, and all that. So I try not to hate myself for what I say next. “Yes Rev, I want you,” I breathe softly into his ear, “only you.” I feel him tense again and he fucking plows my cunt like the rutting antelope who won the fight. I can feel triumph ooze from his pores. I can smell it on his skin. He’s mating with his woman who he thinks he’s stolen from his rival. Fucking men, I tell you, they all need to feel like they’re the only one who’s ever been inside of you.

He rams me like that for a few moments, he doesn’t last long though, I didn’t expect him to. I feel my release building at the same time as his; I lean into him and bite his neck, hard, and hear him gasp with pain. This sends me over the edge and I cum hard, it’s almost painful and completely physical. I am unable to make the emotional connection I had with Hush, so I concentrate on the feeling of flesh on flesh, but it’s enough to get me off.

He leans against me and moans his orgasm; it’s a sexy, guttural sound that sends shivers down my spine. I let my bite turn to a lick and slide my tongue up to his earlobe. I nibble, lightly, then trail kisses down his neck to his mouth. His kiss tells me he feels more than I do, and I feel a stab of guilt that I am using this sweet man to ease my own loneliness. It disappears as pulls his jeans up, picks me up off the counter and takes me to my bedroom.

“It’s the door over there,” I tell him and wave my hand, giggling at the sensation of being in his arms, so far off the floor.

“I still remember the way,” he says as he pads across my living room.

“I guess it hasn’t been that long,” I reply as he kicks the door open with his foot. “My hero,” I smile as he plops me down on the bed.

“It feels like a long time,” he says and wiggles out of his tight pants. He’s wearing boxer briefs and his hardness is sharply outlined under the fabric. He pulls his shirt over his head and I drink in the sight of his ripped muscles. He’s really mighty fine, his appeal is growing on me as my pussy warms up again. I could get used to this, his body, his cock, his fucking. Maybe if I can convince him to get a real mohawk and a few more tats, he’ll fit the bill. He’s no Hush though, a little voice inside nags me, fuck, like I need to be reminded.

“You knew I’d call eventually,” I smile, “I’m always looking for a good fuck.” I squirm out of my own clothing and lay naked on the bed. He climbs onto the bed and crawls towards me. He dips his head at my hips and nuzzles the smooth skin where my leg joins my body. I gasp at the sensation. It sends little jolts up and down my spine and directly to my pussy. He drags his tongue up my stomach to my breasts, licks each nipple carefully and slides it along the hollow above my collarbone. I squirm and wiggle, try to get him to touch me but he holds my hands down. “Ok, now I need a good fuck,” I gasp as he nibbles my neck. “Ok, you can get on top now,” I say, and laugh.

“I don’t want to just give you a good fuck, Jade. I want you to beg me, to need me, to love me. I want to fuck Hush from your system; he never deserved you. I want you to understand how beautiful and precious you are, like a sunset, like stars in the sky,” he says, his eyes fierce and so sincere I try not to laugh. I cannot handle this intensity, and I want to make an awful joke so fucking badly, but I don’t. I don’t want to be a total piece of shit to this guy, I just don’t want to fall in love with him and squirt out hundreds of his babies.

“It’s just dead light,” I say, a smile threatening to tug at the edges of my mouth. Fuck, this is like the time I started giggling in church at some distant cousin’s wedding. The pastor’s robe kept brushing up against the mic during their vows and I swear it sounded like a gigantic ripping fart. I ended up hunched over with tears coming from my eyes and my body shaking with the laughter I couldn’t let go. We never did get invited back to anything from that side of the family. Could have been that, or my mother getting drunk and puking in an umbrella stand. Who knows.

He looks at me. “What do you mean?”

“Stars, they’re just dead light. I mean the star has been dead for billions of years by the time we see the light. It’s just a floating rock in space by then, cold and black.”

“Oh,” he replies, his eyebrows furrowed. Shit, I think I’ve killed the mood. I glance down and notice his cock is going a little limp. Yup, good old Jade, open the mouth too much and frustration is the result. “I thought you wanted to hear things like that. Most women do.”

“I’m not most women, my dear,” I tell him. “I want to hear things like fuck and let’s do it.” I grin and reach down, give his dick a little tug and continue. “This is poetry to me, the sounds you make when you cum inside of me, the sound I make when you hit my cervix with your fat cock. Now that’s what I want to hear. Fuck the roses, give me the thorns as they say.”

Slow realization crosses his face and reaches his eyes. He grins back and tells me, “Fucking right, I think I can handle that.” He grows serious, takes my hand from his cock and pins both of them over my head. Now we’re talking!

I struggle a little, always enjoying the feeling of being captured. As much as most men like to rut and feel they’ve won the prize pussy, I like to feel like I’m being held down and fucked like an animal. It’s very primal and exactly what I need.

He puts his knee in between my legs and pries them open. I wiggle a little more and his grip tightens, it hurts. I mumble ‘fencepost’ under my breath and think of Hush. I hate that I think of him every time I get a cock near me, like some kind of Pavlov’s dog, only every time a bell rings my pussy starts to...fuck, weird metaphor. I concentrate on the pain in my wrists to drive Hush from my brain and it starts to work. I push against his hands and he pins me tighter. His knee comes up and forces my thighs apart. He leans down and takes one hand off my wrists. I try to pull free, enjoying the game. He twists my nipple painfully and growls, “Fucking stay still, bitch,” and finds my pussy with his fingers. He’s so tall he can manage to stretch somehow, my hands remain pinned just over my head and he angles himself to insert a couple of fingers.

I gasp as he starts to finger fuck me slowly, I pant as he gets faster and I start to moan as he adds a couple more. Hush keeps flashing into my head at the worst moments though. For half a second it’s his fingers inside of me, pumping into my cunt, and my moan hitches in my throat. Rev mistakes it for pleasure and keeps thrusting. I need more pain to keep Hush from my mind, so I push against his hand and groan like a nasty whore. He gets the hint and adds his thumb, the pressure of five digits inside my pussy is insane, intense, overwhelming. I can feel something building up under his hand, deep in the core of me, a pleasure so strong that it borders on pain. He releases my wrists and sits up to watch.

“This is fucking awesome,” he says, his eyes light up at his front row seat. “I’ve jerked off to this online, but in front of me, my hand, fuck.” He presses his now free hand onto my clit; he’s pretty masterful, I’ll give him that. His one hand inside of me, the other one working my clit, the boy’s got talent. I try to stop my hips from bucking, the finger on my clit is sending sharp stabs of pleasure into my core, this mixes with the intense pressure. I am going to orgasm, and do it fucking hard. I feel like I’m going to pee, this always signals a squirt, something I do every so often when the stars align, Venus in the house of Gemini or some such mysterious shit.

I squeeze my eyes shut and throw my head back, arching my back and pushing myself against his hands in the process. I am so close to cumming, I can almost taste it, but I can’t quite bump up to where I need to be. I remain like this for a few seconds too long, but I’m not tipping over to the other side, the fireworks, shooting stars, brain exploding side of the orgasm.

A tiny voice inside of me whispers ‘Hush’, and I gush like a fire hydrant with the top off. I picture Hush between my legs, Hush fisting my cunt, Hush prodding my clit, and juice bursts out of my slit, washing down Rev’s forearm and soaking my sheets. I should have put down a sheet of fucking plastic. Next time I’m at Dollarama, I’d better check out the painting section for fucking drop cloths.

“Holy shit,” Rev breathes as I come down, my pussy clenching like crazy and my body limp with the effort. “I’ve heard about squirters, but never seen it. You are so fucking amazing,” he says, his voice full of wonderment. I feel like his new bike under the tree on Christmas morning. He pulls his hand out slowly. I can feel my cunt tighten behind it. I don’t know why men are endlessly fascinated with fisting, it’s designed to slide a baby out for fucks sake, a hand is easily accommodated. As long as I do my keigels, my pussy stays nice and tight. I’ll bet I could shoot ping-pong balls outta there...in fact, I might have to try one of these days.

I open my eyes and feel guilty. He’s hot, fuckable, dateable…loveable even...but I need Hush in my head to reach my orgasm. I hope Rev never finds out. “Yeah, I’m a girl of many talents,” I say, and laugh.

“That you are, I have to see what your pussy feels like now, after my hand has been in there,” he says and rolls between my legs, thrusting himself in with one smooth motion. I wrap my legs around the back of his and drag him inside of me. “You can’t get enough, can you? I could get used to this,” he says as he starts to pump against me.

I close my eyes again and let my head fall back against my bed. I love being fucked hard like this, but once again I need to envision Hush to really feel anything beyond the physical. He finishes quickly and I manage to dodge any cuddling by jumping up and going to the washroom. I sit on the toilet and hide out for a bit, in here with the fan going, I try and take stock of my emotions but they are so tangled up I don’t even know where to start.

I splash cold water on my face to counteract the effects of the alcohol and to prevent myself from crying.

Back in the bedroom I feel guilty again, Rev got the hint and is getting dressed by the time I get there.

“Hey stranger,” I say with a small smile. “Going so soon?”

“Hey you, yeah, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” He says and smiles back. “I’m not the kind of guy who spends the night, so you don’t have to worry about me getting too clingy.”

“I wasn’t worried,” I say but, relief washes over my body. I do like him though, and feel like we’d have a lot in common so I add, “You wanna go get something to eat? You’re buying.” I shoot him my cutest flirty grin and bat my eyes dramatically.

“Sure, let’s head over to Subie’s, they’re always hopping this late at night,” he says and waits while I get dressed. We spend the next few hours eating and laughing, and with Rev, I almost feel like a real human girl again. Maybe I could get used to this, maybe this could be enough for me after all.

Chapter Eleven

Fencepost, Motherfucker

A month passes and I’m walking to my sociology class when it hits me. I am kinda happy. Rev and I are hooking up fairly steady, but he’s learned to keep his distance and not come on too strong. I’ve even gone out to a few of his shows as his sorta girlfriend, I mean, I guess. His band is pretty hard-core punk, but most of the guys in it are light on the drugs part of the rock-n-roll lifestyle. Rev and I actually have a lot in common with our shitty upbringing and addict parents. School is going fucking fabulous, I am thriving in an environment where people don’t hate me for knowing shit, although I think some of my classmates are getting tired of me using punk rock as an analogy for fucking everything. Hey, it works, I swear.

I slip into Sociology right on time. There’s an overhead projector set up at the front, thank God. Rev was over until three this morning and I can barely keep my eyes open. A slide show or grad student presentation will be infinitely easier to handle than a long lecture.

Rev was sweet last night; he brought me a 45 B side of The Cramps, I haven’t listened to it yet, but it earned him a little cock sucking action. I almost wanted him to stay, almost, but not quite. I don’t know if I’ll ever be there with Rev, but every time he gets out of bed and puts his clothes on, I do feel guilty for not wanting him to stay. God, I’m such a piece of shit for being so difficult. I want so fiercely to break my mother’s relationship curse that I’m terrified of getting too deep with anyone else. I tell myself that’s what it is, but I think we all know it’s disgustingly obvious I’m still pining for that fucker with the green mohawk, Hush.

Our professor walks in so I open my little netbook in order to type. It was a gift from Eva’s parents, they really are proud of me but their expectations make me nervous. I guess anybody’s expectations make me nervous. I smile at the image of myself as a snorting horse, shying away from its handler. Unless there’s a fat cock nearby, then I’m all over it like a naughty circus pony.

Shit fuck. I have to get off these weird metaphors. Or at least make sure I never say them out loud.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen,” Professor Reed greets us. He’s always so cheerful in the morning, and makes such crappy puns that it’s hard not to like him. “We have a special treat today, we have a guest speaker. This young man has wowed the department; he is currently working on a PhD project in Anthropology over at the University of British Columbia. I believe you will all enjoy it,” he continues, looking directly at me with a grin. “Please put your hands together for Nicholas Harrington and his presentation on punk rock subculture and its revival in the local club scene.”

I perk up. This is going to be interesting. Finally something I can relate to, I hope he isn’t sporting a faux hawk, I might have to boo him off the stage.

At the front, Nicholas stands up. He’s pretty built, I can tell from here. It looks like he’s got a ponytail, but I realize he must have his hair swept back. I wonder if he ever spikes it into a mohawk.

He takes three long strides to the podium and my stomach drops. I’d recognize that walk anywhere. That amazing, ripped body, those intense beautiful eyes, that mouth as it explores my body, sucking and nibbling until I’m left gasping and calling his name, begging him.

Hush. Nicholas Harrington is my Hush.

The hair on my arms stands on end and I fight the urge to stand up and scream, or ball up and cry. I slump farther into my seat, praying he doesn’t notice me. He clears his throat and begins to talk and instantly I’m a puddle of urgent need, I would fuck him right now, in front of everyone. I would crawl on my hands and knees to the front if he asked it of me, and I kinda fucking hate myself for it.

He is softer than I remember; he’s using his inside voice I guess, the one he wears for polite society. I close my eyes and listen, I don’t really pay much attention to the words, I just drink in the deep vibration of his velvety voice. I think of the nasty things he’s said to me, and the words of love that made him flee. I am horny and want to cry; it’s a really fucking awful way to be. Crying and oozing.

I open my eyes and see him pointing to an image displayed behind him. It’s of the band; there he is with his gorgeous green hair and cocky stance. The classroom titters their reaction to his appearance. I wonder if the band knew he was studying them; how did it make them feel?

I also wonder if they signed consent. We just learned about the ethics committee last week in order to assist us writing our sociology term papers. We have to work within the framework of the college’s ethics committee, and I’m sure one of the requirements was that the test subjects know they are part of a field study. I’m sure UBC has something similar.

Class wraps up and I manage not to shit myself or puke...or both. People funnel out the doors at the back and I pack my things, ready to go. I want to wait until Hush has gone so I won’t run into him by accident. I curse my stunned inability to move, or else I would have bolted the moment the class was finished and risked him noticing me as I left.

I lean down and pretend to stuff something in my backpack until everyone is gone. I sit up, certain I’ve made a clean break by essentially hiding like a fucking coward. I grab my backpack, stand up and come face to face with him. He’s a couple of steps below me, so we are directly in eye contact with one another. He smiles, but doesn’t see me...until he sees me.

Recognition hits his gorgeous eyes like a bolt of lightening. He drops his briefcase...fuck, I thought I looked like a dork for carrying a backpack but Hush is packing a fucking briefcase. He opens his mouth, that kissable, suckable mouth, and closes it again. I’m surprised when he opens his arms and a smile cracks his face and he says, “Jade! Holy shit, babe! I’ve been dying to call you!”

I wasn’t expecting this. I thought I’d hear some long litany of excuses, shit he makes up on the spot to explain his absence.

I’m angry though, fucking pissed. So now I’m horny, sad and angry, so stay the fuck out of my way. I sling my backpack over my shoulder as haughtily as possible and say, “Hey Nick, whatever your name is...it’s a little late for that, that ship sailed weeks ago.” I step out in front of him and turn to leave.

He reaches out and wraps his hand around my wrist, yeah, that wrist, one of my many horny weak spots. I might as well declare my entire body a horny weak spot when it comes to Hush, or Nicholas, what the fuck ever he calls himself these days. “I’m still Hush, you can call me Hush. Hush is my middle name, but I’ve never liked Nicolas, that’s my father’s name. Don’t say the ship has sailed, I need to talk to you,” he pleads, his eyes betraying his urgency.

“Fuck off,” I spit and take a step up. He still has my wrist though, and I can’t go anywhere. “Get your hands off me,” I say and try to pull away.

“Are you sure you want that? You don’t feel like you’re pulling too hard,” he says, one eyebrow raised. He knows me though; of course I don’t really want to go. I want him to push me down and fuck me right here. “I know I’ve been a bastard, but there’s an explanation. I can tell you everything over lunch. Please? I need to see you.”

I soften. I can’t believe it, but I do. I just want him to wrap his arms around me and make everything good between us. Part of me still wants to kick him to death and dance on his corpse, but a huge part of me is melting. Ok, yeah, it’s my pussy. My pussy wants him to make it right and slip inside of me.

“I can’t think of anything you could tell me that would change my mind,” I challenge him. I need him to tell me something. I want him to talk me back into his bed.

“Give me a chance, give me a little time and you’ll understand everything.”

I can’t turn him down. It’s apparently fucking physically impossible for me to tell him no. So I nod my agreement, unable to speak, and we leave the classroom together, heading to his office to drop some items off along the way.

His space is tucked away past the research library. It’s more of a hole in the wall with two desks tightly packed inside, and floor to ceiling bookshelves packed haphazardly with textbooks and files of all shapes and sizes.

“Hang on, I want to leave this here, then we can go have a talk,” he tells me and pops inside. “I’m doing my degree through the University of BC, but I still keep my little corner of the college.” He looks embarrassed and adds, “My father’s the dean of Anthropology here, so I always come back.”

“Yeah, sure, take your time,” I reply, doing my best impression of a girl playing it cool. I think I’m failing, the butterflies in my stomach say I’m failing. I don’t mention his father, but that’s a little intimidating, my dirty, coked-up sex God is the dean’s son. Mind fuck, extraordinaire.

He drops his things on his desk, I’m in the doorway waiting for him to finish reading a note that was left for him when he pauses, drops it, and turns. His gorgeous eyes are intense, and I am made aware of how little space there is between our bodies at this moment. He takes one step and is beside me, his face is sad, his mouth is slightly downturned and his brows are furrowed. It’s his eyes that get me though, he reflects what I’m feeling, all of the same stupid horny, sorrowful, expectant desires are there in his blue-green depths.

“Hush,” I start to say, my voice thick with emotion, but he cuts me off with a kiss. It’s the softest he’s ever been with me, tentative, as if questioning my response. I kiss him back. I nip his bottom lip and hold my hands on his forearms. He counters with a nip of his own, he takes my lower lip in his teeth and runs his tongue along it, sending shivers up my spine.

I want him desperately, I can feel the months of anger and thick walls crumbling, I want to curl up in his arms and sob with relief.

But I can’t. He left me without an answer; he abandoned me to nothingness after deconstructing years of walls and retreat. I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for this. Now my body betrays me, I can’t stop touching him, feeling him, wanting him. As if against my will, I press my body against his, feel his rock hard abs, run my hands along his arms to his bulging biceps. I sigh against his tongue, his breath becomes mine and I forget where I end and he begins. It’s all so perfect, too perfect, and I’m Jade Daniels...there is no perfect in my world.

“Fencepost,” I say softly, but it’s lost in the quiet sucking sounds our lips and tongues are making. I say it louder; it vibrates against my tongue and wakes me up a bit. I manage to break away from his kiss and look him in the eye. His are full of question. “Fencepost,” I tell him, “I said fencepost, motherfucker! I can’t do this Hush. I can’t just let you slide back into my life, my heart. You fucking left me.”

“So after all the things I’ve done to your body, the ass fucking, stage sex, choking you on my cock...this is the time you choose to use our safe word?” he asks, bemused. He sees my pained look and changes his tone. “Listen, I’m sorry Jade, I was a piece of shit. I know I don’t deserve you, but now I want to make it right.”

“How can you make it right? You broke my fucking heart!” I yell, my voice echoes in the quiet hallway and I’m embarrassed by my loud protest. This is my world now, and he doesn't belong here.

“Babe, please,” he says and takes my hands in his. His eyes are filled with sadness and I almost cave again. “Give me a chance, give us a chance. I need to make it up to you, and I will never walk out on you again. Ever.”

“We’re done, Hush,” I reply, my voice determined, “you made sure of that when you snuck away like a fucking coward. I got over you months ago, so kindly fuck off now.”

“You don’t mean that,” he smiles and I want to smash my fist into his perfect, white teeth. I’m overcome with the urge to slap that smug look off his face...as much as I feel the urge to melt against his body and just let go, let him back in.

“I do mean it,” I say through gritted teeth, “besides, you’re too late. I’m seeing somebody. We’re good together. He’s good for me.” I don’t know who I’m trying to convince with my statement.

“Who is it?” he demands, his eyes dark with anger. I’m flattered at the speed his jealousy rears its head. “Is it Rev?” his hands tighten around my arms.

“None of your fucking business,” I say and try to pull away. He’s got me in a vice grip though, and I end up against the open door of the office. I peek out but the hallway is deserted. I’m thankful that nobody is witness to this pathetic display of human emotion.

“Who is it?” he asks again and leans over me, looking into my eyes, searching. “It is Rev! I saw him in your store one night, kissing you. You probably couldn’t wait to get him back inside of you. Did your cunt cool off before you gave him a call?”

“How fucking dare you,” I spit angrily, “fuck you! I was so lonely without you. I could barely get up and make it to work. How dare you fucking lurk and watch me from the shadows like a fucking creeper! You don’t know what I was going through, and after Eva left-”

“What do you mean Eva left? Where did she go?” he interrupts me.

“She’s in Ireland, which you would know if you gave a shit. But guess what? Rev has been there for me. Whatever you say, he’s been incredible,” I tell him, hoping to twist the knife a little.

He calms immediately, his grip loosens but I don’t pull away. “I’m so sorry, babe, I should have never left you,” he says and pulls me towards him again. I resist, but not much, I want to lean into him and close my eyes. I can’t though, I need to reach down and find the anger that fuelled me through the lonely days without him. I don’t fall against him; I hold my ground.

“Thanks,” I say, “too little, too late though. I’m fine now, I’ve got school and I’ve got Rev. Life’s pretty damn good, thank you very much.”

He grabs my arms again, and steps closer. He’s almost pressed against me now, his eyes flash with anger and he growls, “Stop saying you’re with Rev, you don’t have him, you have me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Where have you been?” I cry out. I hate fighting him, but I can’t let him walk back into my life and walk all over me again. I feel safe with Rev. With Hush I feel like I’m the verge of losing control, and I don’t know if I can handle so much emotion.

“I’m here now, I’ll never leave again, you have to trust me,” he says. “Rev can’t give you what I can, he doesn’t love you like I do, and you know,” he continues, running his finger along my collarbone, sending a shiver down my spine, “he can’t fuck you like I do.”

I freeze. I’m utterly torn down the middle. I want him so much it hurts, my pussy aches with this deep need and my heart yearns to open up and spill its contents for him. But this cynical part of me tells me to run, if he left me again, I wouldn’t recover, I couldn’t take another blow to the heart like that. He makes the decision for me, before I’m able to reply...he leans in and kisses me again. This is more like how my Hush kisses, the ones I’m used to, the ones that leave me no wiggle room, the kiss that lets me know he’s claiming me as his. I melt again, my anger dissipates and I’m a lovesick girl, silently begging him to heal me and pick up the shattered pieces of my heart. I think he could heal me, I think we could be perfect together and I think we could make it work, but there’s that damned stubborn part of me that won’t be silent.

I push at him, my hands on his chest, but he doesn’t move, he keeps kissing me, I keep kissing him. My hands try to shove him, but he takes both my wrists in one of his huge hands, I can feel his rough finger, he must still be playing bass somewhere. I feel it and think of it on my clit, playing me until I’m soaking wet and crying his name. I push at him as much as I can with my hands pinned, I can feel tears coming to my eyes, I want to love this man so bad but I am so scared.

He stops, notices my tears and whispers my name. I look up at him and he says, “I never wanted to hurt you, I never knew you loved me that hard,” in a soft voice. “I’m sorry.”

“I want to believe you,” I tell him, “I really do...but I don’t know if I can, if I ever will.”

“How can I win you back? What do I have to do to prove my love for you?”

“If you have to ask, then I don’t know if you can ever prove it to me,” I say sadly. “I need to go, please let me go.”

He looks determined, “I’ll let you go now, but you will be mine again, Jade, this I know as surely as I’m standing here, as surely as my heart beats and my cock hardens every time I see you. We are one person now, you know this, you just have to remember.”

“I want to remember,” I reply, my stupid tears sliding down my cheeks. “I can’t do this here, though.”

As if waking up from a dream, we realize where we are. A couple of students are walking down the hallway towards us, their loud laughter echoing along the walls. We’ve been lucky to be alone for these few minutes, but our luck just ran out.

“Come with me for lunch. I can’t let you go now that I have you again,” he says and takes my hand. We leave his office; he shuts the door and looks at me.

Resisting the urge to slide into this shared delusion, I give my fucking head a shake and tell him no. I hear him call my name as I book it out of there, away from him. I pause at the corner, just out of sight and hear him swearing as he fumbles with the keys to lock his office door. My heart is pounding, but now that I’ve decided to run, I do it well. I don’t stop moving again until I’m safely back in my apartment, tucked under my covers sobbing like I’ve lost everything. Again.

Rev comes to me that night, but senses something has changed. He’s inside of me, on top of me, and I’m desperately trying to drive Hush from my body by using Rev’s, when he stops. “Are you alright?” he asks. I open my eyes and look at him, his earnest handsome face, and I burst into tears.

He rolls off me and take me in his arms. His kindness is more than I deserve, I am horrid for what I’ve done to him, I have given him false hope that there could ever be anything between us. I cry quietly, trying to force myself to calm down before I reach the snot filled, red-faced level of crying that I hate. He strokes my hair and whispers, “It’s ok. Everything will be ok.”

“It’s not ok,” I sob. “I am such a bitch.” I slide over and sit up, looking at him. He’s so cute and looks so genuinely concerned. I sniffle and manage to say, “I saw Hush today.”

His face goes dark, I’ve never seen Rev in a bad mood, he’s the happiest, funniest man I know, but I am worried I might have just pushed him too far. “Ok, where did you see him? Did you fuck him?” he asks slowly, carefully choosing his words.

I wince. “Of course I didn’t fuck him!” I say, “I saw him at school, he was in one of my classes.”

“Wait, he followed you to class? That’s fucking creepy.”

“He didn’t follow, he was doing a presentation. He’s actually a PhD student, can you believe it?” My voice is quiet, but I cannot hide the pride I feel at his accomplishment.

“Are you fucking kidding me? And this impresses you? For fucks sake Jade, the guy left you shattered! I’m the one who picked up the fucking pieces! I’m the one who’s been here for you, I can’t believe you!”

He’s really angry now, understandably so. What can I possibly say to him that’s not going to hurt him? Nothing really, so fuck it, I’m going in…”I know that, but it doesn’t matter. I love him. I’m in love with him. I like you so much...you’re hot and sweet and so fucking crazy in bed...but it’s just not there with us, you must know that by now.”

His lips are pressed tight in a thin line and he shakes his head. He gets off the bed and says, “I don’t need this shit. Enjoy life with your fucking liar.”

“Rev, come on, don’t be like that. I’m not going back to him. I’m just giving myself a chance to figure this out. You deserve a girl who wants to be with you one hundred percent.”

He’s putting his clothes on though, he slides his jeans on and I can’t help but admire his long, muscular legs. How did I never notice the tattoo going up the side of his thigh? It’s an incredible Asian tiger in vivid colours. It’s like I never really looked at him in all the time we spent together. I feel like even more of a piece of shit. I used him and I do care about him.

I jump out of bed and throw on an oversized tee shirt. He’s doing up his belt when I come to him. I stand in front of him; he is so tall I’m staring at his beautifully tattooed chest. How did I never notice this either? He’s really built, his pecs are covered in gorgeous tribal ink, swirling and linking up, celtic knots and a greek key pattern around his bicep. Have I been sleeping the entire time I’ve been fucking him? “Rev, look at me,” I demand, staring up at him. His jaw is twitching and his movements are jerky. He shrugs his shirt on and starts doing up the buttons.

“Get the fuck out of my way, I can’t look at you,” he says, his voice is low and full of hurt. I did that, and my heart feels like lead. I never wanted to hurt him, but I needed him.

“I like you, please don’t go, can we talk about this? I’m not with him,” I say weakly. We both know I’m lying. I might not be with him now, but it’s inevitable that I will be eventually. I can feel that coming like the vibrations of a freight train on the tracks. I will be slammed by Hush again, it’s not if, but when.

“Is this because I don’t have his money? I’m not a rich guy, but I love-” he says, and cuts himself off, “forget it, fuckin’ forget it.” He pulls his socks on and I notice how nice his feet are, clean and elegant looking. Weird, I usually notice things like that. Men always have such nasty feet.

“This has nothing to do with his money,” I say, “I don’t know why I feel this way, I just do. Sometimes when you meet somebody, you know they are meant to be in your life,” I continue. “I don’t know how to explain it to you, it just feels like he needs to be near me, and I need to be near him. I don’t want to hurt you, Rev, please look at me.”

He won’t, he walks to the door, pulls his boots on without lacing them and slides his arms into his leather jacket. He looks good but so hurt and angry, I hate to see him go, but I know I have to.

“I hope he doesn’t break you,” he says, finally looking at me. “I can’t be mad at you, Jade, I know you’re following your heart, but I can tell you that it’s taking you in the wrong direction.”

And with that he opens the front door and is gone. I feel like I should do something, like run after him, but I don’t. I walk back to bed, strip naked and climb under the covers. I feel relief that I’m no longer using somebody I care about, and that I’m free to see what happens with Hush, but I will miss the steady presence of Rev in my life.

Chapter Twelve

Jade the Asshole

I text Rev again, hoping I’ll hear back from him this time. It’s been three days and I worry I’ve lost his friendship forever. I still feel pretty shitty about how I handled the whole thing; I can’t believe I convinced myself that he could replace Hush in my life.

I have heard from Hush nonstop, but I barely reply to his texts and phone calls and emails and tweets and Facebook messages. He’s a man obsessed and I do kinda like it, but I also need to make sure he’s serious about us before I give in. I don’t know why I need to make him jump through a few more hoops before I bring him back into my bed, but I sense it’s important to make him realize how much he values me before I fuck him again.

I never want to be just his whore again. I want to be more, his everything, as important to him as he is to me. To make certain that I exist in his every cell as he does in mine. Until I’m sure of this, I can’t let my heart be torn from my chest again. I need to protect it.

I stretch my cramped leg, I’ve been sitting cross legged on my bed reading the college’s online catalogue on my phone for the last hour. I want to plan next term as soon as possible, before I wake from this dream. I still can’t believe that Jade Daniels, loser high school dropout, slut and boozy cokehead, is pulling straight A’s in college. I pinch myself just to be sure, then laugh at my goofiness. It’s pretty late, but I don’t have class in the morning so I’m good. I’m enjoying the silence of the empty apartment, something I never thought I would be able to do. I can occasionally hear the bitch upstairs walking here and there, but I’ve been doing my best to be nice to her. Eva was right, that cunt takes tap dancing lessons in stripper shoes, I swear. Whenever she’s angry, she stomps until I almost lose my fucking mind. Then I remember she’s got the power, like everything else in life, whoever’s on top is in charge. I usually like being topped, but not like this.

Mr. McAdams from downstairs has his TV cranked again. Thank god at least one of my neighbours is hearing impaired and still loves me. I hear the late night news signing off and smile. These small moments of peace are coming to me more often lately. I think I’m starting to appreciate the little shit that makes life special. Oh my God, I sound like a fucking greeting card, I need a swig of gin to wash the hippy dippy happiness out of my mouth. I feel like I just sucked a Care Bear’s dick, I’m so full of cute right now.

I get up and pad to the kitchen. I open the bottle, pour a drink and am startled by a tap tapping at my living room window. Since I’m on the second floor, this kinda scares the shit outta me. I cross the room and push the blind aside; Hush is standing out front with a handful of pebbles. He sees me and grins, holds up his hand and launches another one. Fuck, I wave at him to stop and he waves back like a goofy greeting. I hold my phone up and text him, “WTF r u doing?”

I see him grab his out of his pocket, read it and smile. He taps and hits send. My phone buzzes and I read, “Nada, wanna go for tea?”

I scowl at him and do my best to look perturbed. In reality my heart is pounding and my mouth feels dry. I text back, “whatevs, I’ll be down in a bit” and let the blind fall back in place. I reach over and turn out the living room light. I can see him on the front lawn waiting for me. He can’t see me. I watch him for a few moments, he looks nervous. He bounces on the balls of his feet and keeps looking at the phone. This pleases me. I don’t feel like our attraction is so lopsided if I know he’s waiting for me anxiously.

I rush to the bedroom and throw on something warmer, I look adorable if I must say so myself. Black tights, a long white cashmere sweater, a red belt and a black turtleneck. I know, very French exchange student, but a girl can branch out every once in a while. Besides, I found the sweater at the Laundromat’s lost and found. That place is like a clothing lotto!

It doesn’t matter how cute I am, I pull a long wool jacket over it all anyways. The one that makes me look like a human bell or a nun. Ha, a horny nun running off into the night with her punk rock fuck toy. I slip on a pair of boots and tiptoe back to the window. Hush is still there, he’s chewing on his fingernail looking up at the window. I let the blind fall, probably a little too fast, I’m sure he saw me. I should head down, but I wish I could sit up here a while longer and watch him. I feel like I’m on the verge of something special and I want to hang onto it a moment longer. Change is still scary, however much I want it to happen.

I lock up and head down to see him. He is at the front door when I get there his face lights up with a wide grin.

“Babe,” he says, “you look amazing.” He smiles and holds out his arms. I can’t help myself; I walk to him and sigh as he wraps them around me. We embrace like that for a few heartbeats, and for once my head takes control of my body and kicks my pussy into the backseat.

“Let’s get that tea,” I say or else I know I am seconds away from taking him upstairs and fucking him hard. I want to do that, but I need to know more about his time away.

We walk hand in hand to a small pub nearby, the same pub where we met Rev, and I feel a pang of sadness for my shitty behaviour. Since I know the place well, the guy behind the bar doesn’t bat an eye when we order our tea and settle at a quiet table in the corner. It’s pretty deserted close to midnight on a weeknight. He brings us our teas, we make some small talk and I love how Hush makes him laugh. He heads back to the bar and leaves us alone. I sip the hot liquid and watch Hush through half closed lids. His eyes are bright with excitement and he looks hotter, if that’s fucking possible. How does that happen? I end up looking like shit when he leaves, and he rubs it in by looking amazing. I don’t know if I would possess the will power to tell him “get off me” if he jumped my horny ass right here, right now.

“I know you have a tonne of questions,” he starts, “please ask me what you need to know. My life is now an open book, I’ve realized that I want to keep you by my side, so I will do whatever it takes.”

“Interesting, so I can ask you anything?” I ask, he nods yes, so I continue. “So what the fuck were you doing with us? With me? Was that just some kind of research project?”

“It was at first. I’m at UBC doing a PhD in anthropology. My dissertation addresses certain aspects of punk rock and the associated subculture. I knew those guys would never be honest with me if I let them know what was going on,” he says. “I didn’t want to do traditional field work and live in a hut somewhere, I wanted to follow my one love, music.” He continues, “You were so fucking unexpected. I knew the guys were kinda wondering about me, I hadn’t been screwing around with anyone, so I was planning on hooking up at some point anyways. But you…” he runs his hand over his head, smoothing his thick, dark hair. It’s once again pulled back into a ponytail, I miss his mohawk. “You knocked me flat on my ass. The first time I saw you, I was hooked. You were trying to jump that huge girl on the dance floor, Eva was screaming at me to save you,” he laughs, “and when I picked you up and you were still punching the air...fuck, you had me immediately.”

“Are you kidding? You were such a dick that night until you snorted coke in the bathroom!” I reply. Oh, the bathroom, his fingers all over me, inside of me. We’re both thinking about it, our silence speaks volumes, as we look hard at each other for a moment, daring the other to say it. Neither of us does.

“I needed a little sniff of confidence,” he says instead and grins. “You’re a very scary woman to approach. You looked like you were going to devour me that night.”

“I was probably planning on it,” I reply and smile. “So why exactly weren’t you screwing around with anyone before me?”

He pauses, takes a deep breath and says, “Ok, this is going to sound much worse than it is, really.” He pauses again, gives me a crooked grin and tells me, “I was engaged at the time.”

My stomach lurches and my hands feel cold. I grip the hot tea cup and bring it to my lips, look at him again through the steam and process this gigantic fucking bomb he just dropped in my happy place.

“Babe?” he says, he looks worried which is good. He should be worried. I don’t know if I can move past this. Engaged. I always swore I’d be an honest whore. I would slut around but never cheat. I saw how pathetic my mother was, sniffing after all her married lovers. I am equal parts angry, duped, and disgusted

“Say something,” he tells me.

“What do you want me to say?” I ask him, forcing my voice to be calm and icy. Inside my stomach is a snake pit of nerves and I feel sick. I watch his mouth but don’t hear what’s coming out, I just want to leave.

“Babe? Are you listening?” he asks, his eyes imploring me to reply. My mouth is stuffed with cotton though, and I can’t choke anything out. He was in love with somebody when he fucked me, what does he expect me to say?

Instead I respond with action, I get up, put on my jacket and walk away. He calls out to me and comes after me, but I keep moving forward. I could forgive him leaving me, he was getting his life together, but I cannot forgive him cheating.

“Jade, wait!” he calls my name again. I can hear him hastily throwing down some money on the bar before he follows me.

“Hey buddy, this is a hundred,” the guy behind the bar yells.

“Keep it,” Hush says back and rushes behind me into the night air.

“Jade, you have to stop!” he says and reaches me. I’m going as fast as I can without running, I don’t do running, especially in these heels. I should have worn flat boots, I could move faster, and kick his ass if I choose to. I am no match for his long strides. He grabs my hand and spins me around to look at him. His face is twisted with worry and the need to keep me with him. “You have to listen to me, don’t do this.”

“I am not doing anything, you’re the cheating asshole, not me,” I say, I keep my voice low but can’t stop it from quavering. “You had a fiancé? Somebody you were in love with? Somebody you were planning your future with? What happened, she dumps you so you come crawling back to me? I’m not your fucking consolation prize, I’m not fucking second best, so go home to your fucking princess and beg for her to take you back. You’re not wanted here.”

I turn to walk away again but don’t get far. There’s a part of me that needs to hear what he has to say. I turn back around and look at him, daring him to make things right.

“I broke it off with her, Jade. We never loved each other; it was for family appearance more than anything. I saw what my parents had...they never had love, they never had passion, and I thought that’s all that marriage was. I thought that all I could ever find would be meaningless sex with random women or a loveless marriage of convenience. I never knew I would find love...until I found you,” he tells me, looking me right in the eyes. His sincerity makes my heart soar and my pussy ache with longing. He loves me. “You showed me that I can have it all, I can have love and sex and somebody who is hot and hilarious and exactly the perfect woman for me. I explained this to Jillian, my ex fiancé, and I told her I want her to find somebody that makes her feel the way that I do. We’re still friends by the way, she would love to meet you some time if you’re ok with it.” He grins, that little lopsided one that makes him look like a guilty schoolboy. I’m softening as he speaks.

“Why didn’t you come back to me the minute you broke it off?” I ask, my voice a whisper.

“I wanted to finish my PhD and wrap everything up with my family. I also didn’t know if you were with Rev or not, but after I saw you in the classroom that day...I knew I didn’t care. I had to have you. The only thing standing in my way now is my fucking family. All I ever wanted was to play guitar and fucking party. I hate the life I’ve been forced into. I thought if I could shut my father up with my doctorate, he might indulge me a little by letting me play, and let me live my life with you,” he says, “I know it sounds stupid but it was the only way I thought I could escape my family.”

“Yeah, it is pretty stupid,” I say. “You should have told me everything from the beginning. You broke my heart rather than stand up to you father. That’s so messed up. Besides, it’s not like your family is that evil, right? They’re just bossy.”

“You don’t know my father,” Hush replies, “he’s a hard man to please. If he doesn’t get his way he gets violent, he-” his voice hitches and he cuts himself off.

“Did he beat you?” I ask, “Growing up? Was he abusive?” He reaches for my hand, then lets go and rubs his forehead.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to play on your sympathies. Let’s just leave right now for us,” he says, and I recognize the eyes of somebody who’s hiding a terrible family secret. My own eyes are reflected in his. I guess all those rich kids I envied over the years might not have had easy street after all.

“Of course,” I reply, “when are you going to finish your PhD?”

“I’m defending my dissertation next week,” he tells me, and our conversation falls short. I sense that he’s closed himself off after revealing his father’s abuse. I hate that this seems so fucking one sided, I’m expected to spill my guts all over the ground for him to pick through, and he retreats at the first sign of genuine emotion? Fuck that.

“Listen,” I tell him, “I know you think you love me, but I don’t know how you will ever prove it. I know I love you, but I’m not sure you know what love is and that scares me. You need to deal with some of your shit before we can do this, before there’s any hope of us together. I can’t be the only one willing to open up here, Hush, you need to share yourself with me.”

He looks stunned and opens his mouth to protest but I walk away before he speaks. Every shitty relationship my mother ever had comes tumbling back into my mind right now. Every single shitty thing she said about me, she called me or she screamed at her lovers as they left goes marching through my mind. The voices in my head match the rhythm of my footsteps...you’re worthless, you’ll never find love, you don’t deserve happiness. I feel strong, I know it took strength to walk away from Hush when he was clearly not ready to open himself to me, but a nagging doubt creeps in as I walk up to my apartment. As I slide my key into the door lock, I feel weak; the strength has left me. He was opening up to me, trying to share with me in his own way, and I ran away in the face of his stark honesty. I fucking suck at this relationship shit, maybe I don’t deserve to be happy after all.

By the time I’m naked and curled back in my bed, I’m sure I’ve lost him once and for all. I’m lying here in the dark and think about getting hammered, opening that bottle of gin and downing the entire thing to drown my sorrows. I allow myself to cry instead, then reach for my phone and text Hush, “I’m sorry I’m an asshole.” Apology and not getting blasted to hide from my emotions.

Maybe I’m not my mother’s daughter after all.

Chapter Thirteen

The Defense

A couple of days go by and I hear nothing from Hush. I hate that I’ve done this, walked away from him because of my own idiotic insecurity, but I don’t text him again either. I am tired of this constant battle waging inside of me, one side wants him and one side is convinced I’m not worthy of him. They fight continually and at times I think I should become a fucking monk and live in a cave somewhere. Wait, I don’t have balls, so I guess that would make me a nun or something. I wonder if they’re allowed to live alone, I don’t think I could handle living in a big house with a bunch of other bitches.

I look at my phone as I get off the Skytrain. Fuck, I’ll be at least ten minutes late for my Friday shift at the Pussy Willow. Jag has been truly amazing since I started at college, and I do feel a pang of guilt at taking advantage again. He should know by now that I’m pretty much never on time, but him being so instrumental in pushing me towards school has altered the nature of our relationship. I hate feeling beholden to him, but I know he doesn’t feel the same way, so it’s tolerable.

I need to stop letting my knee jerk reaction rule my emotional life. Look what it did with Hush. I behaved like a bipolar freak the moment we began to move to another level in our relationship. Is it even a relationship? I have no idea. I want him but I’m scared. I never knew I was such a fucking pussy until he came into my life.

“Hey Jag,” I chirp as I walk through the door. He waves and starts packing up his briefcase immediately. I never noticed before, but it’s a nice briefcase. I think of Hush’s thick arms and feel like crying.

“Jade, how are you ever going to make it in the real world if you can’t even show up on time for this job?” Jag starts in on me right away. It’s weird, I never thought about my father, or lack thereof, until recently. Jag fills some kind of space for me, he lectures me and watches out for me. I think I’ll miss him when I finally leave this place. Until then, I’ll continue to put him through hell.

“Whatever, I’ll buy this place from you in five years and turn it into a frozen yoghurt stand,” I smile and move behind the counter. “So do I have much clean up tonight?”

“No, it’s been pretty slow for a Friday, you’re in luck,” he smiles back and picks up the rest of his things. “I’ll see you on the flip side.”

“See ya!” I tell him as he rushes out the door. Wait a minute, flip side? Is he finally picking up a few slang words here and there from me? Awesome.

A few minutes later the door buzzer goes off and I look up from my reading. It’s a pudgy young guy with long stringy hair pulled back into a ponytail. He does his best to not make eye contact as he shuffles to the magazine rack. I wonder about these guys who still buy magazines, there’s so much free porn online these day, I don’t know why they buy it. To each his own I suppose.

He approaches the counter and slides several spank mags across the surface at me. His shirt catches my eye; it’s a snug black tee shirt with the image of howling wolves on the front. Scrolling text above it, right across his man boobs, reads something like, “There are two wolves battling inside of you, one is fear and one is love. The wolf that survives depends on which one you decide to feed.”

It’s the most profound fucking thing I think I’ve ever read. I must be suffering from grade A certifiable PMS because I fucking swear a single tear slips down my cheek.

This sums up everything I’ve been feeling these last few days, I am fighting a battle with my cheesy seventies spray-painted howling wolves, and I don’t know which one to feed. Fear keeps me running, it keeps me nervous and insecure...and alone. I need to start feeding my love wolf, the one I need to win in order to be happy and successful...and to open myself to Hush and all the possibilities he offers.

All from the tackiest mother fucking tee shirt I’ve ever seen and some scrolling text across a nice set of moobs. Fuck, typical in the life of Jade Daniels.

“Excuse me,” pudgy guy says and clears his throat. “While I do enjoy the obvious attention you are giving my fine, quality tee shirt, I would like to purchase my masturbatory materials so I might go home and partake in a self love session.”

I stare at him in disbelief and crack the fuck up. I laugh so hard that I can’t breathe, tears roll down my cheeks and I try to compose myself. I am still chuckling as I ring his purchases up and tell him, “That will be eighteen forty eight.” Dude doesn’t even crack a smile the entire time, and he’s lucky he leaves with his brown paper bag clutched to his chest, or I think I might jump from behind the counter and give him one hell of a hug. First for the revelation into my personal emotional crisis, second for making me laugh my ass off.

A few hours go by and I pass the time reading for my finals, they’re coming up faster than I would have ever imagined. Look at me, studying for final exams like I think I’m people.

The door buzzer sounds and I look up.

It’s Hush, beautiful, glorious, fucking dead sexy Hush. I almost expect a Hollywood romance movie soundtrack to start playing this is all so perfect

“Hey babe,” he smiles, his gorgeous lopsided smile. He holds up a Starbucks container and paper bag. “I brought you a chai latte and an oat square.”

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting to see you…” I trail off and fight the urge to scream at him or fall on my knees and beg his forgiveness. I think about that stupid shirt and focus on the positive, the love I feel for him and the love I hope he feels for me.

“I wanted to wait a couple of days before I came over. It was looking pretty ugly,” he says and sets the chai and paper bag on the counter.

“What do you mean?” I ask, confused by his statement.

“Hang on,” he replies and takes his leather jacket off. He’s wearing a simple black tee shirt underneath, his muscular arms are exposed and it hugs his delicious chest. I notice a white bandage on his left forearm.

“What’s that?” I ask and point at the bandage.

“This,” he says and smiles while easing the tape off the sides, “is what I want to show you.” He pulls the bandage back completely and there on his gorgeous, muscled arm is my name. It’s nestled in among his other ink, a beautiful black script spelling JADE. I’ve never loved my name as much as I do at this moment, seeing it in solid black with delicate green edging on his body.

“Oh my God,” is all I manage to say before the tears spring to my eyes. I blink rapidly and fight them off; I bring my hands up to my mouth in surprise. “You crazy fucker,” I continue and laugh.

“What do you mean?” he replies, looking a little hurt, “I thought you’d like it. See the green? It’s my favourite colour now. It’s our colour. I drove the artist crazy until he found the exact colour of your eyes, and your hair the first night we met. Do you remember that?”

“I do,” I smile, “I remember how cheesy my pick up line was, about us matching. I just can’t believe you did this. What if I don’t love you? Do you know how hard it will be to find another Jade out there to date?”

His grin widens and he pulls the bandage back over so it can heal. “That’s the risk I decided to take, I know you love me and I know I love you, that’s all I need. This way everyone I meet will know it too.” His words seem to have kicked the fearful wolf to the curb and all I feel is love. I’m still nervous, but it’s a good nervous energy, not my usual anxious urge to run. I’m there, on his skin and in his heart, permanently.

“Does this mean you don’t hate me?” I whisper, I almost can’t believe he’s here, that’s he’s done this for me…for us.

“I could never hate you,” he says and moves even closer, “does this mean you don’t hate me?”

“I could never hate you,” I reply, “which is a good thing because apparently I’ll be pretty hard to get rid of now.” I gesture towards his arm, where my name is permanently marked on his skin. I feel breathless when I think about this reckless act of his, it feels like his love is official, no need for a ceremony, there I am.

“I don’t want to get rid of you…ever. You know, I was thinking about you a little earlier,” he says and steps even closer, to the edge of the counter, “when I was getting ready to come see you.”

“Oh were you?” I say and raise my eyebrow. “What were you thinking about?”

“I was thinking about your tight, wet cunt squeezing my cock, you know, when I’m buried to my balls inside of you.” He tells me, his eyes sparkle and a smile plays at the edge of his lips. I like flirty Hush. I like his style.

“Oh really,” I reply. I stand up and set my book on the counter next to the drink. “Which time were you thinking of?”

“Every time, babe, every single fucking time I pushed myself inside of you,” he says and leans towards me. We’re almost even when I’m behind the counter, I don’t have to tilt my head that high to meet his gaze. I part my lips and lick them in anticipation of his next words. He reaches out and cups his hand on the back of my neck, his thumb rubs my skin as he continues, “Every time you push yourself against me, grasp me and pull me inside of you.” His eyes are blazing now, his gaze so intense I want to look away, but I don’t. I don’t want my fear to win, I want to feel this love. I deserve to feel this love. “I want to get back inside of you, Jade. Let me back in.”

“I want you in,” I say, my lips still slightly parted. I want him to kiss me, I want him to fuck me and love me and need me as much as I need him.

He complies, he tilts my head up ever so gently and comes back inside...his tongue pushes past mine and slides along it, sending shivers up my spine. I breathe in sharply, then exhale, feel our breath mingling and entering each other. I reach up tentatively, as though I’m afraid he will disappear if I touch him. He doesn’t, and I run my hands up his muscular forearms, up his biceps and to the back of his head. I can feel the soft hair growing in where he used to be shaved. I think I want his mohawk back. He sighs against my lips and pulls back.

“This is not how I want to fuck you again,” he says reluctantly. “I love you, too much to fuck you in the bathroom of a seedy sex shop.”

“It was good enough for us before,” I smile.

“It was, and it will be again,” he agrees, “but for now I want you in my arms, I want to see you open and ready for me. I want to lay you down and cover myself in your scent. Oh, babe, I’m gonna spread you wide and suck your cunt until you’re begging me to fill you up, until you know how much I love you.”

I want this, him, so much I start to tremble. I’m terrified, this is the smug contentment I felt right before he left the first time, I don’t ever want to lose him again. I resist my urge to scream at him or send him out of the store, and allow myself to feel. I’ve never been good at love, not making it, not speaking of it, not ever saying it, so I find myself at a loss for words. Finally I manage to say, “I love you too, so fucking much it hurts me.” I lay my head on his chest and take a long, quavering breath. There, I said it, fuckers, I told him how much I love him.

“I know, but I don’t want it to hurt, I want it to make you feel good” he replies and strokes my hair. It’s growing out and shaggier than ever. Maybe I’ll cut it short again, I don’t know. I might even get Hush’s opinion. God, next I won’t be able to take a shit without telling him. Relationships are hard. “When are you done here? Can I come home with you?”

“I’ve got another couple of hours,” I tell him, “and of course you can. I’d like that.”

We pull apart and spend the rest of the time just talking, reconnecting, and revisiting the crazy attraction that brought us together in the first place.

Just before shift end he asks me, “How’s Eva? You don’t talk about her much anymore.”

“She’s good, but she’s so caught up in life over there I don’t know what to say. I miss her, but I’ve learned to live without her. She’s in some art program and sends me sketches and photographs all the time. I’ll show you some, she’s actually really good,” I tell him, not knowing what else to say. She was my constant companion for years, and now she’s gone and I feel like I’ve been getting over an amputation. Nothing like the hole that Hush left in my heart, but a hollow place exists where she once was. I think about her every day and hope she’s gotten over Diesel. “Have you heard from Diesel and the guys?” I ask him.

“Not since I left the band. I want to get back into music; it’s in my blood. I don’t think I’ll hook up with those guys again...I can’t tell people my band name is Bondo and keep a straight face.”

“Oh my God, I was dying to ask you about the band name, it’s really bad, right?” I tell him and laugh. “I never wanted to offend you, in case you loved it.”

“Come on, you’ve got to give me more credit than that,” he laughs, “they had the name picked out long before I came along.”

“Well, now that I know you don’t like the name, I can be fully open with you,” I smile and bat my eyelashes. This flirting thing is getting easier with him. “I do love you, I love you even more because you think the name is as stupid as I do!”

“Then it’s official, we love each other and I’m going to fuck you stupid when we get back to your place,” he grins.

I can’t do anything but agree. I lean in for another little kiss and the last bit of work flies by.

We get back to my place a little after five in the morning. Hush parks his Range Rover in front of the house and we get out, laughing and chatting a little too loud for that time of the day. I feel tipsy, drunk on the knowing of what is going to happen. Once inside my front door, he carefully removes my jacket and hangs it in the hall closet. He hangs his next to it, shuts the door and we stand there, looking at each other, willing the other to speak.

“Wanna shot of gin?” I say, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, why not,” he replies. We go into the kitchen where I’ve got my last bottle of Bombay Sapphire. I pour us each a half glass, no mix and we down it in one gulp. We set our glasses on the counter at the same time and look at each other again, silent.

“Fuck this,” Hush growls without warning and sweeps me up in his arms. “I don’t want to wait, I can’t wait,” he whispers in my ear, “I need to taste your sweet cunt, I need to feel you right now.”

I moan my agreement and feel myself heating up at the thought of his tongue assaulting my clit. He kisses my throat, he reaches up and wraps his hand around it while he nibbles and bites the side of my neck. I go from zero to sixty in a couple of seconds. I’m down to fuck at the drop of a hat when Hush is involved. His other hand trails down my stomach and creeps under my skirt, forcing it up over my hips. I thrust my pelvis forward to allow his hand easier access to my slit; he finds it and slides his rough finger along the outer lips, teasing me, playing with the light fuzz growing there.

“Oh come on,” I breathe into his ear and gasp when he grazes my clit with his fingertip.

“What are you after, babe?” he smiles against my cheek and nuzzles my neck again. His finger lingers on my outer cunt fold, teasing me mercilessly.

“You know what I want,” I tell him and try to push myself against him to force his fingers inside of me. He’s having none of it though, and keeps himself away from my clit.

“I want you to say it,” he orders, and bites my neck. Shockwaves of pleasure travel up and down my body and I tremble with my need. “Fucking say it, tell me what you want me to do to your cunt, your sweet dripping cunt.”

“I need you to lick me,” I manage to get out between ragged breaths. “I need you to taste me, suck me dry and fill me up again with your hot cum. I need to feel you dripping down my thighs, I need-”

His swift movement cuts me off; he drops to his knees in front of me, tears the thin tights off my body and dives into my cunt like a starving man. I moan again and wrap my hands around the back of his head. I tilt myself to meet his eager mouth and spread my legs slightly so he can suck my clit. He works his tongue against my inner folds, stabbing at my entrance and lapping up the pussy juice already oozing from me there.

He works his way towards my clit so he can thrust a couple of fingers up inside of me. My knees almost buckle at the sensation, but I hold onto him to keep me steady. I can hear the delicious, wet noises of his tongue on my clit and his fingers fucking me slowly and I can’t keep myself off him, I need him inside of me more than I need air at that moment.

Like an animal in a frenzy of heat, I slide away from him and drop down to my knees in front of him. I kiss his surprised face and taste my salty sweetness on his lips. This drives me harder and I help him wiggle out of his pants. For this he stands in front of me and slides them down his long, muscular legs. “You look amazing on your knees,” he smiles down at me and tosses them to the side.

“This is where I belong,” I grin and grab his thick cock. He reaches down and grabs my hair, twists his hand in it and holds me firmly in place.

“I think I like this longer hair on you,” he says, “more for me to hang on to.”

I lean towards his cock, but he drags me back up. “Not now, babe, I need to pound your cunt more than I’ve ever needed anything in my fucking life. I need you twitching and wiggling on the end of me, I need to see your eyes when I hit the end of your pussy and shoot my load inside of you, I need you up here.” He pulls me up until I am standing. He doesn’t let go of my hair, but wraps his other arm around me and lifts me onto him, impaling me in one quick thrust.

I hang onto his body and cry out as he pumps into me with frenzied madness. His breath comes quickly, his eyes are bright with lust and love, and I know this is it. This is the man I want to fuck like a whore for the rest of my life. This is the man I want to give myself to, heart and soul and body. I would deny him nothing, no part of me is off limits to him and this no longer terrifies me. There is a freedom in the acceptance, the knowledge that I would lie down in front of him and let him do anything he could think of...and the knowledge that whatever he chose to do, he loves me.

“I love you,” I pant against his chest, his hand clenches my hair tighter and he drags my head back. His other hand is cupped under my ass, supporting me as he looks into my eyes.

“I love you too,” he says and thrusts inside of me. “I love you more than I thought possible,” he continues with another thrust. “I’m almost there...cum with me, let me feel your cunt tighten around me, come on babe, my little slut, my fucking whore, come for me.” He leans down and bites my shoulder hard, the pain shoots out from the point of contact and I pitch straight into a new territory, of love and lust and pain and pleasure. I scream out his name as his body tenses and I feel his hot release shooting into me, marking me as his.

I gasp as he softens the bite on my shoulder; he replaces teeth with tongue and slides it slowly along my skin. My pussy twitches with the aftershock of the intense shared orgasm and he nibbles my neck in response. I feel him relax. He removes his hand from my hair and slowly allows me to drop to the floor. I stand in front of him, my hair a mess, my skirt pulled up and my tights ripped and hanging in tatters on my legs. I gingerly step out of them and look at him.

“So now what?” I ask, feeling giddier than before. The gin and excitement of newly accepted love are really sending me into a spin, I feel like running to the street and screaming to the world that I found my one true love. Of course I don’t, seriously, like I ever would. But it is a fun thought, to let this love make me that reckless and open to anything.

“I need to lay down with you,” he says and takes my hand. “I want to spend the day with you, sleeping and fucking and planning our future in whispered voices under the covers.” Be still my beating heart, my punk rock fantasy is a fucking poet. I smile and lead him to my bed. I wonder if I’ll ever tell him about that cheesy howling wolf tee shirt and how it lead me back to him. Probably not. I don’t know how I could ever say it without sounding like a crazy woman.

True to his word, we spend the day wrapped in each other, our limbs, our whispers, our breath, all entwined in our perfect world, here under the blankets.

When I was a kid, I was left alone in strange motel room a lot. Or, if I was lucky, some friend my mom had made until she used and abused her way out of said friend's life. A friend’s house meant a fridge and cupboards to raid, but a motel room meant unlimited TV, so either way it was a few stolen moments by myself.

To combat my fears, I would hide under the blankets. Everything would melt away when I was in my secret word, warmed by my breath and muffled by the blankets. I don’t know why I continue to do it to this day, but I do. Here with Hush the magical quality is seemingly doubled.

“I want you to come next week, to my defense,” he says as I’m in his arms, snoozing happily.

“What do you mean defense, are you on trial?” I smile and twist my body so I can look at him. He just invited me into his real world, the world where he is Nicolas Harrington junior...or second...whatever. He’s inviting me into his life.

“Ha. Ha. If anything you should be locked up,” he grins, “for stealing my heart.”

I groan and fake punch his chest. “Come on, you can do better than that.”

“I know I can, ok, how about I want you to be there in the lecture theatre when I defend my dissertation...my lady.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say and flip onto my back, still nestled in his arms.

“You’ll think about it?” he cries out in mock indignation. “You’ll think about it? You’re killing me here.”

I look up at him again and say, “Of course I’ll come, I want to be there to support you.”

He smiles, content at my response. His hands start to travel along my flesh, as if they have a life of their own. I settle back down and let him massage my arms, my breasts, my stomach. He kneads my flesh in deep, slow, sensual strokes and I exhale, a sigh of contentment.

“Here, let me get on top of you,” he says and pushes up onto his elbow.

“Oh wow, what a romantic,” I laugh and roll onto my stomach. He straddles me and starts to massage my back, those long, sensual strokes again, I feel like I’m turning liquid under his hands.

“This is what I meant,” he says, trailing his long fingers up my spine. He grips the back of my neck and rubs me there. I feel myself heating up, my pussy is already aching for him to slide himself back inside of me, but I concentrate on his touch. He goes up on his knees and bends over, I feel his hot breath on the back of my neck and he bites me there. I cry out, not in pain, but pleasure. He’s found my ultimate weakness, the back of the neck. Of course he knows that about me now, I can’t keep anything from him.

He twists my flesh in his teeth and slides his hand back down my spine, to the top of my ass. I pant and twist, trying to escape the pain, but not really trying that hard. I tilt my ass upwards to receive his finger and he complies. He slides two or three down my wet slit into my entrance. He wiggles them, straightens them and starts to fuck my pussy while he’s got me pinned by the back of the neck. I moan into the pillow, and push myself against him, begging him for more. I want his cock inside of me now, as much as I want to love him, I want to fuck him.

Hush pulls back, releasing my neck. “Oh babe, that’s so fucking sexy, I’ve left my mark on you,” he whispers in a hoarse voice. I love that I’m marked as his; I think about getting his bite tattooed there, a permanent reminder that I’ll be his forever.

“Fuck me,” I pant and push myself harder against his hand. “Please,” I beg, “I need you to fuck my cunt.”

“Oh, we’re getting there,” he tells me and grabs my wrist. He drags my hand behind my back and slides his fingers out of me. He grabs my other hand with his dripping wet fingers and drags it to line up with the first one, tight against my back. I’m helpless to fight; he’s got my face pressed into the pillow and my arms twisted.

“You ok babe?” he asks, his voice soft with love and reverence. I feel like his beautiful babe, his precious partner in crime...not just a nasty fuck. It adds an entire new layer to our sex, the emotional aspect almost thickens the air as it thickens my voice.

“I’m good,” I breathe, “I love this,” I say and he jerks my hands tighter. I gasp and wiggle, but can’t get away.

He pulls back and helps me up, so my ass is in the air, my hands are still pinned behind me, and my face is still in the pillow. He rubs my thigh and slips his fingers up inside of me. He adjusts himself and I feel the head of his cock push against my entrance. He pulls his hand away and slides his length inside of me, excruciatingly slow. I try to buck my hips against him, forcing him in faster, but I am pinned and cannot move.

“Hang on,” he breathes and pulls back, far enough that the ridge of his cock head is almost out. A half an inch farther, and he would fall out of me. I moan and wiggle against him, I want to be fucked hard, but this slow, sensual sex is something else. “Here we go,” he says, tightens his grip on my wrists and plunges into me. I cry out when he hits the end of me, I can feel my pussy tighten around him, as if trying to keep him inside. He repeats the slow withdrawal, and I can feel every cell in my cunt lighting on fire, the sensation of skin on skin makes my toes curl with delicious desire.

“Fuck me harder,” I demand after a few repetitions of this. I am getting close to the edge of my orgasm, but I want him to crash into me and push me over. I want to fall with him, and I don’t know how we will get there at this rate. “I need you to pound me, to fuck me like you mean it,” I almost snarl my request. He lifts me up, releases my hands, and slams me down onto his cock. He wraps one arm around my waist, holding me against him, and grabs a handful of hair, pinning me tight.

“I can’t do anything but fuck you, Jade,” he breathes into my ear, “there will be time to love you later.”  He nibbles my neck at the tender spot he bit me before, and this is enough to tip me over. I scream my orgasm, saying his name, repeating it like a mantra that will guide me through this blinding light and bring me back safely to him. I feel him tense and his fingers get tangled in my hair, pinning my body against him as he thrusts upwards a couple more times, then groans and relaxes. I feel him flood my pussy, the warmth of his cum following his cock as it recedes, leaving a gush of fluids in its wake. The sharp tangy scent of our mixed sex wafts up to my nose and I’m fucking horny again. I’m exhausted, glowing in his love, freshly fucked, and my cunt juices make me want to fuck again. What the hell has gotten into me?

His body sinks slowly and he sets me down on the bed underneath him. He rolls to his side and spoons me, running his hands along my body.

“I can’t keep my fucking hands off you, babe,” he says with a small chuckle,

“No protests here,” I smile and stretch languidly, like a cat. I twist around so I’m on my back, he lifts his leg and rests it on mine. We fall asleep like that, I feel safe in his arms, safe in his heart. It isn’t until I wake, hours later that I realize I didn’t need to pull the blanket over me to feel this way. I no longer need the world muffled. I no longer need to hide from it when I have Hush by my side.

He’s been driving me fucking nuts all morning. He defends his dissertation at three in the afternoon and it’s only eleven. If I have to keep watching him pace back and forth and mumble under his breath, only to pause and yell, “No, fuck, no, that’s not it,” one more time, I’m going to scream.

I woke him up with a celebratory blowie, he ended up riding my chest with his balls on my chin, fucking my face...he shot his spunk all over my tits and he’s still wound up tighter than a nun in a whorehouse on a Sunday. I wonder if anal would relax him. I also wonder if I’m the world’s best or world’s worst girlfriend, always solving his problems with sex. I’m sure the show of hands would be divided mostly based on gender.

Maybe I could work something about my love of sex into my own research one day, but make it all wordy and smart sounding of course. I’ll have to write it down later and check it out. Right now I have to stop him from sending me over the edge with this nervous energy.

“You wanna do a bump of coke or something?” I ask, only half joking. “Maybe that will help you present.”

He looks at me like he’s considering it, “I can’t do that...can I?” He thinks on it and continues, “Fuck, no, I can’t. I can’t see my father when I’m high. Waste of good drugs.” He grins and comes to sit next to me on the couch.

I put my feet up on his lap and say, “Um, shit, did you say your dad’s gonna be there?” I gulp and wiggle my feet at him. Maybe a good foot massage will calm him down. I love how I’m always thinking of him.

He starts rubbing, starting with my toes, just how I like it. “I thought I mentioned that,” he says, looking at me to see my reaction.

“You might have,” I say, but I don’t think he did. I would have remembered if he did. Unless I was drunk. Or high. Or fucking. Yeah, so he probably did tell me.

“Does that bother you?” he asks, still working on my feet, “I mean, meeting my family?”

“Your family? As in all of them?” I say, trying to keep the nerves from my voice. His family? This excites me on one level; it makes it seem legit, like Hush really does want to bring me into the light of day. On the other hand, it’s fucking terrifying. I know his family is rich, and I know his father is a difficult man, that’s about all I know.

“My father, my mother, and my younger brother, Richard,” he says, rubbing the heel of my left foot now.

“You never told me you have a younger brother,” I say. “You’ve never told me much about them at all.”

He stops rubbing and looks at me, his eyes narrow and he obviously chooses his words carefully when he says, “Picture every terrible stereotype you can think of about a wealthy family, and you’ve got it. Overbearing father with a string of mistresses, alcoholic mother who checked out of reality years ago, and the spoilt idiotic younger brother who can’t do anything wrong according to my parents.” He runs his hand up my leg and settles on my thigh. I think it’s a comfort thing for him, touching me is his security blanket. I love that we need each other; we found each other.

“Are you gonna be ok with me meeting them?” I ask shyly, “Are you worried what they’ll think of me?”

“God no,” he reaches over and pulls me up onto his lap. “My God, no, I don’t care what they think of you, I love you and that’s all that matters. Don’t you ever worry about anybody else, Jade, the world can go fuck itself if it doesn’t approve of me being fucking crazy ass in love with you.” He kisses me and all my little nagging fears and worries are washed away by his words and lips. I feel my walls being chipped away every time he tells me he loves me, every time he tells me things like this. I know eventually I will be completely open to him, and I love him for that. I love him because he is getting to know me, and he accepts every last little bit of me with no question. He loves me for who I am, not for what I can give him or do for him. I think he feels the same from me, but it’s true. I couldn’t care less if he had a penny in the bank or a million dollars to spend. I love him, plain and simple.

He pulls back and looks at his watch, “Shit, I need to go ahead and set up. You’ll be there, right? Promise me you’ll be there. This is all for you, babe.”

“Of course I will, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I reassure him and watch him run around picking up pieces of clothing here and there. I lounge on the couch and watch him dress; his muscles ripple as he shrugs into a white dress shirt. I can see the outline of his tats through the fabric as he does up the buttons. He pulls a dress coat over top and stops for a moment. “Aren’t you missing something?” I say, smiling.

“What?” he asks, and laughs as I point at his naked legs. “Ah, yes, pants would definitely help.” He drags them up his long, thick legs and all his tats are covered, he looks almost normal, except for his green hair, pulled back still. I want him to spike it again soon, I don’t know what it is, but I want to fuck every time I see that mohawk heading my way.

I get up, adjust my long tee shirt and stand on tippy toe to kiss him. “I’d wish you good luck, but you don’t need it,” I tell him. He squeezes me tight, takes a huge breath and exhales slowly.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he says. “I’m so glad you followed me into the bathroom that night.”

“Ha, yeah, we’re going to have to come up with a better story to tell the grandkids,” I laugh.

“Fuck that,” he looks at me, “I want them all to know how dead sexy their gramma was, in her knee high boots and long green hair. I want the world to know how fucking sexy you are.”

“You might change your mind when you’re old and grey, my friend,” I giggle, “and need a handful of Viagra to get it up.”

He squeezes my ass and I feel him harden against my hip. “Who needs pills when I’ve got this?” he asks and kisses my neck.

“Ok, if you don’t go, I’m going to drag you into the bedroom and demand a fuck, and if I demand a fuck, then you’ll be late…”I say, rubbing his cock through his dress pants. “And if you’re late, I’ll never be able to call you doctor.”

He lets go of my ass and laughs. “Ok, you’ve got a point...but you’re not going to dump me if you can’t call me doctor, are you?”

“Get out of here!” I mock yell, and wave him out the door, “of course I wouldn’t, but you know you’ll do fine. I’ll be calling you doctor before the day is over.”

The lecture theatre is buzzing, there are more people here than I anticipated. I settle down at the front, where Hush wanted me. I look around but don’t see anyone I think is his family. A few minutes later I text him “Where r u?” and hear him laugh. I stand up and he’s behind me with an older, impeccably groomed version of himself, minus the green hair of course, a woman who looks like a walking Barbie doll, and a douchey looking frat boy. This must be the family. I clear my throat and say, “Hey.”

“Jade, this is my father, Nicolas, my mother Sylvie, and my brother, Richard,” he says, beaming his excitement.

“Nice to meet you,” I say in my best impression of a socialite. Eva and I have watched enough Real Housewives for me to know something about the lifestyle. I kick myself for always turning down her parent’s requests to join them at the golf club. I could have actually learned something, fucking insecurities.

“Charmed,” his mother says and offers me her limp hand. I don’t know if I should kiss it, or shake it, or what...so I panic and fist bump her. She looks startled, but his brother holds his hand up and says, “Duuuuuuude,” with a grin on his face. I fist bump him as well and relax a little, at least frat boy douche bag little bro is down with me.

“Jade?” his father asks, his voice dripping with disgust, “Is that your real name, or am I to assume it’s a...stage name?” Fuck, his dad thinks I’m a stripper. Gross. But hey, he thinks I’m hot enough to be a stripper, that’s kinda cool.

“It’s a nickname,” I tell him, “Jack is my real name.”

“Jack?” he says, sounding even more disgusted if that’s possible. “Is that a family name?”

I think of all the times I rolled my mother onto her stomach so she wouldn’t puke and asphyxiate herself in the night. All the times I removed a burning cigarette from her hand so she wouldn't start a fire on whatever flammable bedspread she was on at the time. I think of all the nights I poured her booze down the sink, hoping she’d stop drinking if we couldn’t afford it any more...but of course she’d always buy more, she’d forgo food or shoes for me, but she always had money for her Jack Daniels. I look Hush’s dad right in his arrogant goat eye and say, “Yes, it’s a family name,” with pride. Fuck him for seeing me as nothing more than something stuck on the bottom of his shoe, nothing more than the whore in his son’s life, nothing more than the reason his son humiliated the family by breaking off the engagement of the year. Fuck him. I reach out and grab Hush’s hand and add, “Aren’t you so proud of him? And all he’s accomplished?”

He squeezes my hand back and pulls me against him. In front of the three of them he gives me a deep kiss, lots of tongue action and smacking and obvious heat. Fuck them, he’s mine now.

“How do you feel?” I ask him as he shows us our seats at the front.

“Nervous, but good,” he smiles, “I can’t wait to do this.”

His advisor and defense committee seat themselves and indicate for him to start. He gets up, flashes one last smile in my direction and walks to the podium. He looks good, shit, he looks fucking hot, and I can’t believe he’s mine. I feel like jumping up and running to every person in there, pointing my finger in their face and yelling, “He’s mine, fuckers.” My chest swells with pride. He’s sexy, smart, dirty and fucking talented, the whole nine yards, and he’s mine. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve him, but I need to keep on doing it.

He clears his throat and taps the mic, “Is this thing on?” he asks and the audience titters their laughter.

“Good afternoon,” he starts and introduces his thesis topic. The audience seems enraptured by him, and I can see the members of his committee scribbling notes as he talks.

“So, let’s get to the good stuff,” he says after he finishes his introduction. He pauses and adjusts his notes. “You know what? Fuck this shit,” he suddenly says, looking at me. He tosses his notes on the floor and turns to the slide projector. A photo appears overhead, it’s one of me from when we first got together. In it I’m naked, but covered by a sheet. I remember the day he took in on his phone, we had been laughing and fucking for hours, I look radiant, better than I think I ever have. Sex is good for me. My head is thrown back, my neck looks long and elegant, and my tattoos look brilliant, the colour brighter than real life. I’m embarrassed though, and can feel everyone’s eyes on me, especially his father’s. It’s one thing to fuck Hush on stage in front of screaming fans; to be called out in front of people in the middle of the day is nerve wracking.

“I’m sorry Jade, I didn’t put this up here to humiliate you,” Hush says into the mic, “but I have to say this. I love you. I’ve loved you from that first night you cornered me in the bathroom at the Roxy. Fuck, I probably loved you from the first time I picked you up, saved you from that chick,” he laughs and I smile. I glance at his family and his parents look pissed. His little brother is laughing though and gives me the thumbs up.

“I love you, and I know you love me, and that should be it, right? It should be that simple...but it’s not. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, I want to wake up with you and watch you sleep...you are so fucking adorable when you sleep,” he grins. “It doesn’t feel that easy because my family are a bunch of assholes,” he continues. “All I’ve ever wanted is to play the guitar, to thrash on stage and make music, but my father wouldn’t allow that to happen, not to any son of his. This,” he says and gestures to the theatre, “is not what I wanted, ever. I’m sorry Doctor Anderson and my thesis committee, for wasting your time. But the truth is I only took on this research so I could follow my real dream, to play. I never got permission,” he says and the crowd gasps. I hear his father mutter under his breath and he glares at me. “I did my field research with no permission, I did not conduct myself in an ethical fashion, therefore my last year of work is null and void.”

Silence greets him; none of us know what to say. I can see his advisor, must be Doctor Anderson, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. The rest of the committee look angry, Hush looks relieved. I smile, that’s all I want, is for him to be happy, none of these people matter to us.

“Jade, I treated you horribly and I still can’t believe you took me back after I ran,” he continues, “but I thank you for that. I looked at this picture every day, every hour after I left you...before I found you again...and I knew then that I was a fucking fool for leaving you. You told me once if I had to ask how to prove my love to you, then I didn’t love you. I’ve thought about it ever since. I’ve decided that I can’t prove that I love you beyond giving my heart to you,” he says. I swear I hear a few girls in the audience sigh; he is pretty fucking dreamy. I smile at him, fight the tears starting to well up in my eyes, and he goes on, “I can’t live without you Jade, I tried, but I failed. I failed at being away from you, and I don’t think I could survive if you left me at this point…but I don’t know how to prove my love to you. I could throw myself onto the jagged rocks at Spanish Banks, or I could tattoo your name over every inch of my body, but in the end you have to believe me...I love you. In the end you have to trust me, to trust us, and maybe after fifty years together when we’re lying in bed talking about our creaking joints and the weather, then you’ll have your proof. Until then, you just have me.” As he speaks I can envision us together forever, holding hands when we’re old and grey, still laughing about that fucking bathroom at the Roxy, and my heart does an old time pitter patter, flip flop. He doesn’t need to prove his love to me…he just did.

He looks at me with a smile on his face, clicks off the overhead projector and the screen goes back to white. He steps out from behind the podium and walks towards me. I stand up and go to meet him, his arms are wide and I fall into them, laughing and red faced at the hundreds of eyes on us. His father stands as if to intervene, to get between us, but thinks better of it when he realizes everyone is watching us, waiting to see what happens.

“You are nuts,” I say and bury my face in his chest, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I don’t deserve a PhD, I only did the work so I could rock out with my cock out,” he replies, laughs and smoothes my hair with his hand. He strokes my cheek and says, “I never thought I’d find a hot ass like yours at the end of it, of course, but I couldn’t be happier, babe.”

I blush even redder, hoping nobody heard, “Me too, I’ve literally never been happier with anyone in my life,” I confess and feel his arms tighten around me.

“Nick,” I hear a voice behind us, “what in God’s name was that?”

Hush turns and we break apart, but still have our hands interlocked. It’s Doctor Anderson.

“That is me making my own decision for once,” he says, “I’m just sorry I wasted your time, that was never my intention.”

“We’ll see what we can do, we can make a case in front of the ethics committee and have your work accepted-”

“Just don’t, please,” Hush interrupts him. “I’ve made up my mind, I don’t want to be an academic, I want to pursue my rock star dreams.” He smiles, his crooked adorable smile. “Jade here can pick up where I left off, she’s fucking brilliant, keep your eye on her...I think she’ll blow everybody’s mind at some point in the near future.”

I’m beaming. I shake Dr. Anderson’s hand and make small talk for a moment or two. Hush walks to his father and the two of them are obviously having a heated discussion, I don’t know if I should go over there or not. I break away from the conversation I’m in and start towards them.

“I’d stay out of it, if I were you,” Hush’s brother, Richard, interrupts me. “Those two go at it all the time, since the day he was born from what my mother tells me.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Nick hasn’t ever been able to fake it like I can,” he says, “He always has to have the last word, it’s pathetic really.”

It takes me a second that Nick means Hush, and I hate the look on Richard’s face…I hate anyone speaking of my Hush that way, especially his fucked up family.

“Maybe that’s because he’s already got his life figured out, and it doesn’t include that shit that you people think is important. Maybe he doesn’t want to end up miserable, married to some vapid, one dimensional woman, chasing easy tail at the office to make up for his sad, lonely existence,” I tell him. His eyes widen at my verbal defense and I stomp off to Hush and his father.

“You’re throwing your life away, you’re being foolish,” his father says as I walk up. “All for what, that little-” he stops when he sees me.

Hush turns, smiles and takes my hand. “All for what?” I ask him, staring him down, daring him to continue.

“Never mind,” he says. What a pussy. “I am simply trying to talk some sense into Nick here, he’s being utterly ridiculous.”

“Hush is being amazingly sensible in my opinion,” I say and squeeze his hand. “Let’s go,” I tell him, “we’ve got shit to do.”

“You heard her,” Hush tells his father, “we’ve got shit to do.” He puts his arm around my shoulders and we walk up the stairs together. The audience has mostly cleared out by now, but there are a few people milling about. As we walk by, they start to clap, one by one. I hear a couple of whistles and words of congratulations. I feel like a fucking rock star, leaving with my guy. I feel like I’ve fallen into the world’s worst chick flick, I love it though, every stupid moment of our grand exit.

We make it to his Land Rover before we speak. He opens the back door and throws his briefcase inside. “I guess I’d better get this hair spiked up, quick-like, hey babe?”

“Uh, yeah, if I can’t call you doctor, you’d better look a little more hard-core than you do now,” I say and smile. I continue, “So we need to figure out what we’re doing, right? I think your family is done with you...I could maybe drop a couple classes next semester and pick up a few more nights at the Pussy Willow.”

“Not on your life,” he says and turns to me.

“What do you mean? We’ll need money. I don’t think Eva’s coming home any time soon, and I don’t know how much longer her parents will pay for the apartment. I do have some savings, but I don’t know how long-”

“Babe, that’s not what I mean...you don’t need to drop any classes, I’m loaded.”

“But your family…” I trail off and look at him with my eyebrows raised.

“They have their money, but I have mine...it’s a trust from my grandfather, I spoke with my lawyer last week when I started planning this, just to make sure they can’t touch it.” He informs me, and grins, “we’re rich, babe.”

I don’t know what to say to him, but the realization hits me slowly and I grin back, matching his. “Are you serious? Rich? Fuck yeah, I knew there was a reason I took you back,” I say. I immediately grow serious, not wanting him to think this is true, and “I do love you Hush; rich or poor. I don’t know how I survived before I met you. I was living half a life, convincing myself I was ok with it, with meaningless relationships and gigantic walls built up around myself,” I tell him. “You not only broke down those walls, I think you’ve fucked me in every way possible on the ruins.” I laugh, and continue, “thank you for showing me that I can love, that I’m worthy of love.”

“I love you, Jade, Jack,” he says, “whatever your name is. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Let’s fuck and laugh and love and dream and make beautiful babies and grow old together. Are you up for it?”

“Well, you don’t hear me saying fencepost, do you?” I reply with a shit-eating grin. I take his hand, look him right in his gorgeous blue-green eyes and say, “Let’s fucking do this.”

There’s no sunset, but we drive off into the future, my stomach fluttering with the possibilities it holds for both of us. This big, crazy, amazing world won’t know what hit it.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen