Aaron Atlas Fadler.
I once described him as a liar, a cheater, a hypocrite.
But then …
Liar.
He said he loved me, but I thought he didn’t; I see now, in the fierceness of his feral gaze, that I was wrong.
Cheater.
I felt like he betrayed me, cheated on me with a monster worse than a woman, a five-headed hydra named Havoc. Yet, as I sit here now, enveloped in their dark arms, I can see that there was never really another choice. We always have to choose Havoc because it means choosing family.
Hypocrite.
He fucked me the same night he told me I was nothing to him. He stripped my dress off and let me walk home in the dark in nothing but a bra and panties … then later, he tore even those off and took me. Over and over and over again. I asked myself many times if that night was a mistake, but … maybe it wasn’t?
Maybe it was foreshadowing for the direction my life was going to take? The road was never straight and narrow, but we got here, didn’t we? We found each other, even with the sharp turns, the wicked curves, the blind spots, and the accidents in the road.
Aaron Atlas Fadler.
He's worse than all the others.
When I look at him, I’m not just obsessed. I’m anxious to see what we might find around the corner. I’m achy and missing the way his lips tasted when we had our first kiss. Mostly, I’m in love.
I never stopped being in love.
“We never have to pretend again,” I whisper and there it is, this strange fracturing inside my chest, like I’m losing the very last wall that there was left. Victor has backed down; the boys seem to be in agreement.
Our girl.
Tease her.
Piss her off.
Make love to her.
Fuck her.
They said they wanted me to be their plaything, didn’t they?
So be it.
They also said they wanted me to be their accomplice: check and double check.
“Bernadette,” Aaron groans, and then he’s pulling back and shoving open his door. For a split-second there, I feel panic take flight in my chest. He can’t leave me like Oscar did; that isn’t like him. Aaron is a lifeline. He’s the one all the other guys should thank because without him, I couldn’t put up with them and their shit and their all-consuming blackness. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I watch as Aaron yanks the rear door open and climbs in, his arm snaking between the front seats and grabbing my waist. Without preamble, he yanks me back and into him, tucking me into his lap and then dropping his mouth to mine like a comet. All fast heat and pressure and impact. His tongue thrusts between my lips, sliding across my tongue, tasting me.
More than that even: savoring me.
“Victor might be your husband, but I’ll always be your first love. Your first time. Bernadette, I swear to god, if he ever tries to keep us apart again, I will fucking kill him.” I nod because I can’t speak, not when Aaron’s growling against my lips and holding me like he was always meant to.
The sound of Vic’s Harley pulling up alongside us registers with me, but I can’t pull away. Instead, my arms tangle around Aaron’s neck as we fall into each other. The shadowy laughter from the other cars, the faint smell of fries and chili, it all just blends into a blur of particles that mean nothing to me.
“He can’t keep us apart again; I won’t let him.” I lick Aaron’s lower lip, sucking it into my mouth as he groans and leans his head briefly against the already fogged-up windows.
“Fuck, I can’t wait. I need to be inside you,” Aaron pants, and I nod yet again, sitting up and crawling from his lap on all fours the way he seems to want. “Bare, Bernadette. This time, no condom.”
“No condom,” I agree, breathless, my lips nearly touching the window’s glass. I’m thankful for the spotty and inconsistent lighting of South Prescott, the clouds over the moon, and the condensation of our own breath. We should be fairly invisible in here. “No need.”
I’ve been taking the birth control pills that Oscar gave me, so for once, I’m actually not being an irresponsible twat. Even if I weren’t, I’d probably do it anyway, and you know what? I know why, too. Because it was never about babies or responsibility or any of that. I just want to be close to my boys.
“You’re the only queen I would ever serve,” Aaron whispers, leaning over me. I can feel his cock pressing up against the seam in my sweatpants, teasing me. He’s probably getting pre-ejac all over them, but I don’t care. This moment is worth everything to me. “And I never really served a king; I’ve tolerated him. For you.” Aaron reaches around to undo the tie on the front of the pants, kissing my ear and grinding against me. His right hand slides under my shirt and up my bare belly, finding my breast and squeezing it with great tenderness. Each press of his fingertips into my skin scalds me, stealing away any resistance or dignity I had left.
“You’re supposed to be the nice one,” I groan as he kneads my flesh, the slow undulations of his hips driving me insane. “Stop teasing me.”
Aaron chuckles, and the feel of his breath stirring my hair makes me squirm even more.
“What we do in the bedroom together has nothing to do with nice, Bernie.” Aaron reaches up and grabs my waistband, yanking the sweats over my ass and exposing my wet heat. I can’t exactly spread my legs because of them. Doesn’t matter, I guess, since the bench seat we’re on is only so wide.
There isn’t a lot of room in there, so Aaron and I are pressed up nice and close, jammed between the two back doors so he has plenty to push off, and I have plenty to push up against. There’s going to be a lot of friction in here soon.
A hard knock on the window makes Aaron growl in frustration, and my heart leaps with fear in thinking that it’s Vic. If they come head-to-head in a clash, what am I going to do? I can’t choose between them; it’s impossible.
“Shakes and food are on the roof, fucking horny ass kids,” the waitress grumbles, and I can hear the whir of her skates as she moves away. Like I said, South Prescott, raunchy shit, terrible people, we know, we know.
My fingers splay out against the glass as I sigh in relief, but it’s a short-lived expression because I can feel the heat of Aaron’s cock rubbing against me. He repositions himself slightly and then drives all the way into me, making me bite my lip as overwhelming sensation crashes through me.
My legs are squeezed so tightly together, and Aaron’s so damn big, I end up with my face pressed to the glass because I just don’t have the energy or willpower to hold myself up anymore. What is it about Aaron that makes me want to submit?
It’s because you know he loves you enough to always pull back, if you need it. That’s why. You can let go with him; you forget worrying about literally anything.
Aaron cracks a hand against my ass and then squeezes the flesh with his hot fingers. On his arm, he bears a tattoo with my name, a fact that I can’t stop thinking about as he drives me into me hard and fast. The car creaks with our movements, helping to hide the wet sound of our bodies joining together.
“So fucking pretty, Bernie,” he purrs, sliding his hand up and under my shirt again. He pinches my nipple, tweaking it and yanking on it until I cry out in ecstasy. “So pretty.” Aaron pulls back slightly and then cracks my ass with his hand again; he groans as my body clenches around his. “Do you like getting spanked?” he asks me, slowing his movements, so he can lean forward and put his palm on the window, right over the top of mine. With his other hand, he kneads my breast again. “Do you, Bernie?”
“Only when you do it,” I murmur back, because I cannot for the life of me imagine any of the other guys doing this without me going into a rage. “Only you.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Aaron responds, voice thick with heat and need. He kisses down the side of my neck, his body pressed up against the length of mine, fingers still flicking and twisting my nipple. With my left hand, I keep myself propped up, but with my right, I reach back and grab at him, yanking on his chestnut hair.
Those lips of his, I take great pleasure in knowing they only belong to me, that they have always only belonged to me. He saved himself, I think, but before I get a chance to think he’s too nice of a boy, he spanks me again and then bites my neck so hard that I see stars.
“Tell me you’d choose me, Bernie, even if it’s a lie,” Aaron breathes, and I’m helpless to resist his pull. No … no, that’s not it. I’m not helpless. I have never been helpless. I want to give into him because I love him. That’s the long and short of it, really. Maybe it’s wrong, maybe our relationships are all toxic, but I feel like what we have here is significantly less toxic than the world at large.
“I’d choose you,” I tell him as he fucks me into an early climax, and then uses the pulsing of my body to find his own. When Aaron moans and fills me with his cum, it’s a glorious moment. If anyone were going to get a baby from me, it’d be him.
We stay joined together for far longer than is really necessary, neither of us wanting to move and break the spell of the moment. He’s the one who actually finds his head first.
Aaron does his best to untangle himself from me, collapsing into the opposite corner as I struggle to turn around, pants wrapped around my legs. We stare at each other from across the seat, breathing hard and soaked in sweat. He puts his hand to his face, elbow resting on the door, tatted fingers digging into his hair. The smile he gives me is all good-boy-turned-bad, and I’m living for it.
“Bernie,” he says, and then he just starts to laugh. I push up from where I’m sitting and crawl over to him, falling into his arms. Aaron bands his right arm around my waist and hugs me close, putting his lips to my hair as his body shakes with more laughter.
“Aaron …” I start, burying my face against the side of his neck. And then I start to laugh, too. Because this is where we were always meant to end up, me and him. Fucking in the backseat of an old car at a drive-in while our shakes melt and our fries get cold. This, right here, is everything to me.