Loving Me, Trusting You(26)

I use my other hand to rip open my pants, snapping the button off and sending it skidding across the white tiled floor. Beck slams his fist on the door and I ignore him, turning on the sink, so I can have some f*cking privacy.

My right hand grips my shaft while my mind wanders, sliding right back to those fresh memories of Mireya's cruel fingers. I stroke myself, letting my eyes flicker closed for a moment while I savor the rush of pleasure that's coursing through my veins, poisoning me, spoiling me to anything or anyone else. Never thought I'd be this way. The day I turned thirteen, I lost my virginity to an older girl next door, just a few days before she left for college. And from that moment until the day I joined Triple M, I was a little nightmare on wheels. I had more sex in that brief time period than I have in the past seven years. But it wasn't great, wasn't even good. I'm in love. Never wanted to be, don't even really know how much I like it now, but I can't stop it. Love is an unstoppable force, a gale of emotions, pain and pleasure, joy and melancholy, ache and fulfillment. It doesn't discriminate and it never stops. It never goes away. I got bit in the balls and I can't pry off the jaws of fate.

I am so f*cking screwed.

I reach forward and grab the complimentary lotion bottle that was left on the counter, sending up a silent apology to whoever put it there. Doubt they suspected that some guy would be slathering up his penis with it, wishing he was being swallowed up by a smart mouthed Spaniard turned Yankee with a tiny waist and heaving breasts, skin like bronze and eyes the color of melted f*cking chocolate.

“Mireya,” I whisper, opening my eyes and staring at myself in the mirror. I'm a shirtless mess with my pants hangin' loose around my hips, my cock out and rigid, standing tall and quivering with need. I try to start slow at first, work my way up into a more satisfying orgasm, but I can't keep it in. Soon, I'm pumping so furiously that I find I can't stop, not even when I hear the bedroom door open and the harsh murmur of Mireya's voice as she tells Beck to f*ck off. If anything, it makes it worse. I grit my teeth and pump myself into a wild fury, imagining Mireya beneath me, writhing in pleasure, calling out my name, begging me for more. In my mind, she gives herself fully to me, opens up and lets me in. I call her mine and she doesn't protest, she lets me have her the way I want her to have me. Fully and completely.

I'm so into my shit that I forget that the door didn't get locked behind me. Just as I'm reaching that pinnacle, watching myself in the mirror, staring my demons head on, the door opens. The muscles in my belly contract and I let loose, spilling myself all over the bathroom sink at the same moment somebody screams.

“Shit.” I stuff myself back into my pants and grimace as I turn to find Mireya and Christy standing just outside the door. Mireya has her arms folded across her chest and a bemused smirk on her face. Christy, well … shit, the girl just looks freakin' terrified.

“Don't you know how to knock?” I ask her as my worst nightmares are confirmed and Beck slides into view. Soon as he sees what's going on, he starts to laugh again. Can't a guy get a freaking break around here? Mireya rolls her eyes and gestures at my mess.

“Clean it up, cowboy. The girl here has to piss.” She starts to move away, leaving me in a bit of an awkward position. “Amy will be along in just a minute. Austin and Kimmi have some shit to work out, so we're babysitting.” She walks away with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. I think I hear her mumble Madre Mia under breath, but who knows.

“Sorry there, babe,” I tell the frightened girl who just shakes her blonde head and steps away, floral dress drifting like smoke behind her. I can't imagine I'm helping the poor thing any. Being a part of an MC is a far cry from being a sheltered Southern belle. And then to have to deal with Bested and being tossed on the back of Beck's bike afterwards? She's got to be in shock. “Dude, lay off,” I growl at my friend as he proceeds to switch on the charm and hit on the poor girl. I saw her flirting with him at the bar that first night in Wilkes, but I have a feeling she's not really into him.

“Dude?” Beck asks me, giving me a single raised eyebrow. I keep my glare locked on his face while I clean up and drop one of the white towels into the trash can. Don't know where else to put it. He rolls his eyes at me and ends up mumbling curse words as he pushes open the door and tips an imaginary hat at Amy Cross. Austin's standing behind her with Kimmi at his side, watching carefully. I imagine him to be sort of like a lion or something, watching over his pride. Anyway, that's how I feel when he looks at Amy.

“Everything alright in here?” he asks when he sees Christy's face. Tears are building behind her eyes, but she smiles anyway, nodding her head and holding out her hand for Amy who takes it and gives her friend a gentle hug.

“Everything's just fine there, Pres,” Mireya says, a cigarette dangling from her lips. She watches the two girls embrace and something flickers behind her eyes. I wonder if she misses that kind of intimacy, if she wishes she had more friends. Mireya and women have never particularly gone hand in hand. I don't know the last time I saw her have a pleasant conversation with someone of the same sex. “And it'd be even better if you told us what the hell was going on.” Austin nods his head and swipes his hand through his blonde hair. He's overwhelmed, that's alright. I get it. I watch him carefully for a moment and decide to speak up. Didn't get my chance on the intercom, thank you very much, Mireya Sawyer.