Through A Glass, Darkly (The Assassins of Youth MC #1)(55)

“I already thanked him.” Vonda looked at Gideon with fondness, it seemed.

“She did,” said Gideon. “Don’t you like my Harley wings?” Someone had painted wings on Gideon’s forearm, a temporary tattoo.

Vonda said, “I traded the girl who did it. I arranged her scarf around her waist with shells and feathers. See? I have something to barter.”

I felt like I was the only one with no skills to trade. I felt less than worthless, after all Gideon had done for me. It sounds horrible to say, but maybe that was at least partially behind my decision to say, “Let’s go to bed now.”

In Battle Mountain the night before, we’d slept in separate beds. We were all so exhausted from the day’s tribulations we’d just fallen into our separate beds after showering. Vonda, that perennial late sleeper, had been the one to wake me this morning.

But now it was my idea. And in the tiny tent that Maximus had loaned us, we’d basically be sleeping together. Vonda had her own little dome tent.

We all went to the porta-potties, and Vonda asked if she could stay up. I told her not to roam, not to leave our campsite, and she promised she’d just stay up reading an e-book.

I was glad the hubbub of the tent city already drowned our words from Vonda’s ears. Gideon took off his cut and draped it across his duffle bag. He leaned on one elbow on top of his sleeping bag. “We can go right to sleep. You’ve had a long day. Hell. A long week.”

I wiped my face with my bandanna. “Shiz. Dust everywhere.” I knew I had dust in the folds of my labia. How it got there, I had no idea. Dust devils were dancing all over Black Rock City, and some said dust storms were much worse. “Good thing we zipped our tent.” Now for the climax, so to say. Sitting on my butt on top of my bag, like ripping off a bandage, I stripped my “I Heart Nevada” T-shirt off over my head. All at once, to get it over with.

“Ah,” whispered Gideon, instantly alert like a bull sensing a heifer in heat. He raised himself slightly on his elbow, but seemed to be restraining himself.

I forced myself to sit there, more naked than I’d been since my marriage. Allred always just took me in my long flannel nightgown, humping and grunting until he spent himself. The bikini top was just two small cups that could be slid on the string. The bottom wasn’t much better, but at least the XL T-shirt had covered that, too. Now I was “naked as the vulgar air,” as Shakespeare said. For the first time, I knew what he meant.

“I feel self-conscious,” I admitted.

“You’re beautiful.” His tone was sincere, but who knew how many women he’d had? A rough and tumble biker like that? Probably hundreds.

But my shyness seemed to be making Gideon shy, too. He just dared to barely brush my knee with the back of his fingers. Just that one slight touch sent lust arrowing into my sex. My inner * fluttered, feathering my uterus. The lantern outside the tent threw my shadow on his torso, but his face was in angelic light. I’d never seen him looking so unsure, so timid.

I had to help, and I was the last to help with things of that nature. Reaching for his hand, I brought it to my breast. He instantly cupped the upper swell above the fabric. “I don’t have much experience in this. I feel like an idiot, Gideon. I’m so self-conscious. I want everything to be perfectly right with you.”

“It is perfectly right, Mahalia.”

“But…” I was suddenly tongue-tied. The silence was deafening, but he didn’t once lose his angelic smile. “But I have dust between my legs!”

The laugh burst from his lips. He threw his head back and laughed fully while grabbing me by both upper arms. He launched me into his lap, so I straddled him. I had to gasp when I felt the enormous bulge of his cock, shielded from my labia only by two thin layers of fabric. And my tiny panties might as well not have even been there.

“Everyone’s got dust,” he said casually, stroking my face now. “And why are you self-conscious? A glowing Venus De Milo. You’re a stunning Madonna.”

A laugh burbled from my lips, too. “If you mean virgin, well then yes. I might as well be.”

“Good.” He buried his face between my breasts. “I’ve never f*cked a virgin.”

He brought his knee up to the roof of the tent, angling my center of gravity down hard on his erection. Squishing my upper arms together, I captured his face between my boobs. I could still hear his muffled talk, but every word sent massive, sensuous shivers down my torso. I loved sliding my fingers through his satiny hair. I started undoing the bandanna knot at the back of his neck. A small waterfall of fine sand trickled from it down his bare shoulder.

“You’re exactly where you need to be, Mahalia. Nowhere else.” His fingers were undoing the bikini knot at the back of my neck, too. My heart raced with bashful anxiety, but he made me feel safe. Secure. “I’m never going to let you go. I’m not letting Chiles take you back. He’s going to have to go through me and my piece before he touches you again. Ah.”

My breasts popped from the little cups, springing to life in front of his face. I calmed myself with the fact that he was too close to see much of them, although they were practically smothering the poor guy. I covered up my nerves with words.

“I know you will, Gideon. I have faith in you. I know that every moment of my life, every anguish I’ve endured, it’s all served to bring me here to you in this moment. It’s made me tougher, more able to—ah!”