Burning Through Gravity

  His hands glide to my hips, and he dives me hard onto his body, merciless, unforgiving, the way you would throttle a one-night stand, not someone you were starting to see a future with. He rolls me over until my head falls soft onto the pillow.

  “Hey, I believe I won the bet.”

  “You did.” He presses a molten wet kiss onto my temple.

  “I’m starting to think you’re a sore loser.”

  “I am.”

  He takes me wild and animalistic, like a savage who has something to prove in a tribal sense. He pulls out and flips me over, raising my hips in the air, leaving me wide and vulnerable as the breeze licks between my legs. He takes me that way too, nothing but flesh slapping against flesh, about as romantic as two-dollar wine. I was worth a fistful of stale bubblegum instead of imported chocolate. I knew where I stood from the beginning.

  He pauses, pulling out slightly. For a second I think he’s about to switch targets, but he wisely stays on home plate. He pulls out and rolls me onto my back, pressing my knees to my chest, burying kisses where his dick was a second ago.

  I grip the sheets. The room pulsates like a heartbeat. My head pounds in rhythm, and my breathing picks up. An entire series of foreign sounds emit from my throat. I’m gaging—crying—screaming all at once. The world collapses over itself like a dying star, and I let out a cry that I’ve held in my lungs since the day I found out my sister died. Ecstasy and horror all mixed in one. It’s true. She never leaves my mind, not even now could I escape her. I’ve never screamed like that before. I’ve never felt such a rush, such relief—such a swell of existence. This gorgeous man, this Hulk, this Superman, has pushed me into paradise, and now there is no turning back.

  “Ford.” I clench my legs over his head like a vice and push his mouth off me.

  “Happy birthday, Stevie.” He pries my legs open once again with a grin as wide as the sea. He’s panting, sweating, his hair is perfectly messy, and it sets me off like a siren again.

  Ford kneels in front of me. The cool air hits that heated spot between my thighs as I fight to shut them. “Nope.” He gives my leg a gentle tap. “My turn.” Ford plunges in, and my body ignites like a parched hillside. I tense over the bed and watch through slotted lids as this beautiful man hammers his way into my life, one wild thrust after another. He’s watching me watching him until his head arches back, and he groans, pulling my hips into his with the strength of a demon. His fingers bite through my skin, digging deep into muscle, right to the bone. He lets out a roar and one final heaving breath before collapsing on top of me. His hot mouth finds mine, and we kiss and pant into one another for what feels like a comfortable eternity.

  “Did I do it?” He buries a kiss on my neck.

  “Do what?”

  “Earn the title, you know—Superman.”

  “Ha!” I laugh right in his ear. “No.” I’m not up for stroking his ego just yet.

  His chest rumbles with a laugh. “That’s okay, I like a challenge.”

  “Then you’re going to love me.”

  “Maybe I will.” His chest continues to pummel mine as the sound of our heavy breathing hacks through the silence.

  Maybe he will. The idea resonates in my mind like a cymbal.

  I think I’ve found something far more interesting than death, something far more enticing than racing into the Elysian Fields and holding Claire just yet.

  I think I found something—someone, who can keep me very, very entertained.

  A man named Ford.

  Ford

  Her body writhes under mine, soft, hot and sticky to the touch. I’ve never slammed into anyone so fucking hard. I thrust into her body with an all-out aggression like I was trying to save the world. I wanted to push through her, lose myself in her, keep up that alarming pace until the sky fell to the earth and time collapsed in on itself. Screw the company, screw every other day I’ve ever lived. This is the moment—this is the feeling—the high I want again and again.

  My body locked up tight as I slammed into her that final time, and I let out a roar that unzipped the silence in the room. And then I did it. I shook out into her. All these years of being careful, of watching my step after what happened—I threw it all to the wind tonight for a beautiful girl with long fucking lashes—even longer legs, a sad smile, those haunting eyes. One blink in my direction, and I was done. I would have given her the deed to everything I owned if she wanted, and if she knew who I was she might have asked.

  I hike up on my elbows and take her in with my chest flexing as if I had just swam across the Pacific.

  “You okay?” I comb her hair from her face and watch as those tragically sad eyes blink up at me. In truth, I tried to give her an out. I purposely didn’t attack her, maul her the way I wanted once we hit the beach house. If it were anyone else, I would have bent her over the couch the second we walked through that door. Hell, I took a shower all by my lonesome, half expecting her to be gone by the time I was through. I fiddled with my phone for a good fifteen minutes in the event she was trying to build up the nerve to let me down easy. There wasn’t anything in me that wanted to take advantage of Stevie, not on her birthday, not on any other night.

  “Am I okay?” A thread of sarcasm pulls her voice out in a drawl. I’m guessing the sarcasm is a permanent feature. She’s a fiery one; I’ll give her that.

  Her searing hot tits press into my chest, and I take a quick breath in through my teeth.

  “I’m just getting started,” she whispers out the threat. “And you? Do you think you’ll survive? Should we raid the liquor cabinet? Maybe check the bathroom to see if he has any Viagra lying around?” She laughs as she says it, curling her leg over my hip as if she’s ready for round two, right on the spot.

  “I won’t be needing any liquor. And I sure as hell won’t be needing any male enhancement products. Besides, rumor has it, you drink with that stuff and you end up with a boner in your coffin.”

  She bites down on her ruby-red lip to keep from laughing.

  “They’d have to cut yours off, or the lid wouldn’t shut.”

  I wince. “I think we went spectacularly off track.”

  She slaps my cheek gently before pinching my chin with her fingers and shaking my head.

  “I’d still bang you if you were dead.” She smacks her lips together. “You’d be hot either way.”

  “No death potion. Trust me, I won’t be needing it.” I dip my fingers into that wet spot between her thighs, and she shivers. “You’re all the fuel I need to get me going.” I tear a kiss off her lips. That kiss she gave on the beach threw me—the way her tongue corkscrewed into my mouth before settling in felt strangely familiar. I’ve kissed hundreds of girls at least, but only once did I experience anything like that before. I was twenty-three and had just plucked a girl from the bottom of the ocean. Evelyn was with me, trying to calm the girl’s hysterical sister. I sealed my mouth over hers, pumped in air, and she doled out a kiss as if it were the plan all along.

  She scratches my back to get my attention. “Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”

  “What you’d like to do to my corpse?” I dot kisses from her ear to her neck. She smells like wild flowers, not the expensive perfume I usually choke on—just sweet nature, a breath of fresh air all the way around.

  “Hardly.” She slaps her hands against my shoulders and pushes me back a good foot until I’m towering over her. Her fingers run down my chest, dripping lower, stopping just shy of my hips.

  “I’m thinking about food.” Her lips form the perfect pout. “You think your brother will mind if we raid the fridge?”

  “Mind? He doesn’t have a say in it.” I give her beautiful round bottom a soft pinch. “Let the raiding begin.”

  Stevie throws on my dress shirt without opting to button it, and I hop into my boxers. Her arm stays slung around my waist as we bump down the dark hall, tripping and laughing as if we were wasted.

  The porch light goes on outside and illuminates the
kitchen enough until I open the fridge. Nothing but two beers and a tub of margarine stares back at us.

  “I’m betting he’s thin.” She lays her bare chest over my back, and I take in the feel of her soft tits molding over my body. Hot damn. This girl knows what she’s doing.

  “His brain cells are thin,” I say, turning and wrapping my arms around her waist like they belong there. “He eats out a lot.” I pop open the freezer. “Well looky what we have here.” I pluck out a half-eaten gallon of ice cream with a frosty beard running down the side as if it’s been in there for a year—probably has. “Do you like chocolate peanut butter ribbon?”

  “Do fish love the sea? I need chocolate just to survive on most days.” She plucks it from me and pops the lid off.

  I pull two spoons from the drawer and pick her up in my arms. She lets out a squeal as the ice cream jumps from her hand a moment.

  I tuck my head into her neck and nuzzle out a kiss. “You smell good.”

  “You smell like sex.” She kicks her feet in the air as if proving her point.

  “That’s your fault, sweetie. And thank you by the way.” I settle us over the rug in front of the fireplace and start a roaring blaze.

  “No one in L.A. has a fire in July.” She scoots in, using the couch as a backrest, and I slip next to her.

  “Good thing we’re not in L.A.” I run a finger over the curve of her knee. “The AC’s on, besides I want to see you.” Her skin comes to life in hues of orange and gold just like it did a few hours ago under that bloody sky. Tonight has been like a whole different world, as if a portal opened up, and we stepped into a new dimension. I think I like this one better anyway.

  “You want to see me do this?” She shovels a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth and moans. “Wow, this tastes like crap.” She drops the spoon, and I pull her onto me until we’re rolling over my brother’s white shag rug, blinking into one another as if seeing each other for the very first time.

  “Tell me something about yourself.” I press a kiss over her lips as if I had the right. “Start from the beginning, and don’t let up until you hit this moment right here. I want to know everything.” My ego is hoping this moment is the best—the highlight in an otherwise sexually oppressed existence, but I’m guessing someone as beautiful as Stevie could put me to shame in that arena. Just the thought of an entire army of assholes laying their hands on her makes me want to punch a hole in every wall in the house.

  “I like to read food labels when I eat.” A depleted smile comes and goes. “Cereal mostly.”

  “Fascinating.” I give her thigh a soft pinch. “Give me something I can sink my teeth into. What should I know about you?”

  “I’m a pretty miserable person—horrible actually.” She says it plain like a fact. Her fingers knot up in my hair and stay there. Her lips invert and press white as paper while she considers her next words. “I already told you about my sister. She passed away seven years ago.” Her cool hand glides up and cups my face. “I wear her like a scar—like a battle wound for the world to see.” She takes in a breath and curls into me. “My parents are both living, but I admire orphans the way the poor admire the wealthy. They never married. My mother was the other woman in a long line of other women, and my father was never that impressed with my sister or me. He has a heart of stone. He’s ruthless, and dangerous, and I still haven’t forgiven him for Claire’s death, which makes no sense whatsoever considering she died from cancer.” She takes a quick breath. “My mother is insane. Not in the traditional wearing your bra over your shirt kind of way, she possesses a much darker madness. She’s convinced the world that she’s brilliant. She’s a master illusionist. She could teach your brother a thing or two.”

  “A two-year-old could teach my brother a thing or two—or twenty.”

  A moment of silence slices by rooted like lead to her words. For a second I think about opening up about my own parents then relent.

  “Anyway”—she shrugs—“I’m a senior at Rigby.”

  Senior. And there it is.

  “I went to Rigby.” Evelyn and all that bullshit she put me through bounces through my mind, and I let her bounce right back out. Not going there. As much as she’d love to infiltrate this night, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let her.

  She pinches my cheek. “I bet you were a frat boy.”

  A heartfelt laugh belts from me. “Right. I was the furthest thing from it.”

  “But the girls still came around, didn’t they?” She plucks at the waistband on my boxers, and the fire snaps as if the flames were proving her point.

  “Maybe. And I bet those frat boys are all over you.” My chest fills with a heated rage, and it catches me off guard. I’m not the jealous type. Never was.

  “Maybe.” She lies on her back with her shirt falling open, affording me all the view any frat boy could hope to have. “Tell me something about you.”

  My stomach clenches. I wondered for the first solid hour if she were simply putting on an act. There aren’t too many people, too many beautiful girls who don’t know who I am these days. She thinks I park cars for a living, and every time I want to clear the air, nothing but silence comes from my throat. The truth is, I like it this way. A touch of mystery never hurt, at least for a little while.

  I tousle her hair, and it sprays gently over her shoulders like dark feathers.

  “I have one full brother, Carter. He’s been as close as my shadow. My dad died when I was eleven. My mother remarried and threw a few half brothers into the mix, Carson and Cash. Then she took off one day, out of the blue, and my stepfather eventually remarried. He already had a couple older daughters. We rarely see those.” I stroke her arm up and down as I scoot in close. “So, you see, I’m essentially the orphan you envy. The end.” There, keep it simple. No need to start throwing my financials onto the table as if I’m trying to sell myself. Not like I haven’t already had a fire sale. She got what most women want without so much as a blink. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say I liked the fact she bought the package without a single dollar sign cluttering up the distance between us.

  “Orphan,” she whispers it slow, sexy-as-hell, as if she were dreaming. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

  “Don’t be. I miss my dad, though. Miss my mom, too. The strange thing is we were all so close, so perfect. Dad died of a heart attack. And, after my mom remarried, one day she walked out of the house to run an errand and never came back.” A sad laugh gets trapped in my chest. “My dad always gave the greatest advice.” I leave it at that. If I talk about how great my mother was, I’ll lose it. I cried myself to sleep for a year after she ran out on us. It hurt a thousand more times than when I lost my father because she didn’t have to go, she chose to.

  “Big family.” She pulls her finger along my jaw as if drawing my attention back. “That must be nice. You bed any of your stepsisters?”

  “God, no.” I mess her hair up a little more and she gives me a perturbed look before combing it back with her fingers. “I have my limits.”

  “Oh, really?” She shakes her head with disbelief, a wicked grin tucked into her cheek. “What kind of limits did you set for me?” Her head tilts just enough to rest over my chest. Something in me melts for this sinfully delicious girl as we curl up next to a fire on a perfect Southern California night.

  Her eyes hook into mine, and there’s a layer of sadness superimposed over steel. Life has hardened her in the cruelest way, and my heart breaks for her.

  “For you there are no limits.” I mean every word. “Isn’t that what tonight is about?” My hand sinks over her hip before settling on her thigh. “No limits?”

  “No limits.” She repeats, closing her eyes for a moment. “You should give me limits, Ford.” Her head writhes over me as if she were trying to fall asleep. “You should give everyone on this damn planet limits, or they’ll run you over, take whatever they can, then rip you out of their lives like a page from a book they no longer care to read.”

&n
bsp; I pull my fingers up over her warm, firm stomach, and she quivers beneath me.

  “No limits for you, Stevie.” I press my lips to the top of her head. “There will never be any limits for you.” I bow down and steal a wet kiss off her lips.

  She scoffs. “You don’t even know me.”

  Disillusioned, lost her twin to cancer way too early, feels abandoned by both her parents—that last point hits home with me.

  “I know everything I need to know.”

  “Well, then, that’s your superpower.” She arches a brow, and my dick perks to life. “You’re a know-it-all.”

  “I am a know-it-all,” I tease, pulling both her wrists behind her back while tickling her under the arms with my free hand. Stevie explodes in a fit of hysterics. “See? I knew you were ticklish.”

  “Stop!” She shrills through her laughter.

  “You stop. You’re going to wake the neighbors.”

  I continue my tickling tirade, and she screams twice as loud, piercing my eardrums, roaring out her protests deafening as a jet engine.

  “Ford!” Her body convulses, trying to free itself from my grasp.

  “All right.” I blink a shit-eating grin. “If you’re not going to be quiet, I’m going to have to make you.”

  I pull her in by the neck, and her mouth explodes in mine as if we’re ringing in the New Year. The fire snaps, biting the air with its celebratory pops.

  Truthfully, I had never had a one-night stand with a complete stranger before. I’m usually somewhat familiar with the women I’ve bedded. But something about Stevie said take the chance, roll the dice and see if the jackpot is as big as you think it is, and, of course, it’s that much bigger. I could never have anticipated anything about tonight.

  She’s right, I don’t know her, but I’m a thousand percent sure I’m not leaving a single stone unturned. This isn’t some random hookup, some meaningless one-night stand. Tonight is shaking us out, spilling all the pieces onto the floor and forcing us to reconstruct them.