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3 months later
Mute
I’ve been living in the apartment over the garage for about a month now. It feels good to be in my own place. Romeo took me on and made me a potential. I was nervous, afraid they—the club, wouldn’t want me, wouldn’t accept me because of my father.
My father was horrible to Truth’s top bitch, Amy.
I remember the way she smelled of peaches. I knew what Paul was capable of. I couldn’t save her or her friends without dying myself, and then them dying anyway. I thought...I don’t know what I thought, but she was too pretty for him. I knew he’d hurt her, but I thought maybe I’d make it easier for her somehow to stomach him. That touching me, the freak, would be the biggest shock, so that when he played with her it wouldn’t seem so bad. I was wrong. I should’ve killed Paul then. I’m glad the fucker’s dead. However, it doesn’t change my part in Amy’s captivity, I live with what I did and what I didn’t do.
I want to tell her I’m sorry. I want her to know I’d take it back, but I was given clear instructions to stay away from her. I’m sure my being here is hard for her, but I need her to know I’d take it back if I could. I wrote her a letter. I’ve been debating on the right time to give it to her, and I guess there is no right time. She will probably hate me the rest of her life and she has every right to.
There’s just this nagging feeling inside me to try though. I grip the envelope in my fist and set out to get it in her hands.
She's just stopped by the garage to bring Truth his lunch. Working with him hasn’t been easy, with him knowing his woman has had my cock in her mouth. I’m not proud of what I done. If I could take it back, I would.
Truth told me it would take time, but one day he would be okay with me, just not anytime soon. I’m hoping my letter will make it easier for them to tolerate me. It was Dawn's idea. She said I need them to know how I really felt.
“All they can do is not read it. Nothing lost nothing gained,” she says as we walk down the stairs hand in hand.
She’s been doing good, even making straight A’s in school. I like to think I have a part in that. We’ve been taking things slow and really getting to know each other. She’s been going to counseling for about three months now, and I just finished speech therapy. I still have a lisp. I’ll always have one, but my speech is improving. I can say a few words and Dawn doesn’t have to guess what I’m trying to say. It’s become a game we play. She gives me a kiss for every word I can say clearly.
We just had our first official date a week ago. I wanted her dad to see that I respected her, him, and Sunshine enough to wait until I was out of his house.
I’m not going to say the temptation to sneak into her room at night wasn’t there, but somehow I survived. We did a lot of late-night texting. We’ve even hung out with JT and Kimmie a few times. He’s actually pretty cool and he does amazing ink. He did a new tat on Dawn, she’s a bit crazy. She wanted a heart with my name on it.
I didn’t know what to say when she showed me, it’s on her left hip.
However, when I see hints of it when she wears low rise pants it turns me on. She marked her body for me. This girl loves me.
Down at the garage Truth and Amy are sitting in the office eating. I hate to interrupt them. Truth said you don’t come between her and her food, she’s pregnant with twins and needs her protein, but I need to do this, so I’ll suffer her wrath.
I don’t say anything when they look up at us. I lay the letter down on the desk.
“What’s this?” Amy questions.
“Thorry,” I tell her.
Dawn speaks up, “He wrote you an apology for what happened. You can read it or not, but Patrick has suffered enough. That doesn't make what he did to Amy right, but he is sorry. He’s not like Paul. He lives with the weight of his actions and the sins of his father every day. I just thought you both should know, he’s not a bad guy.”
“We appreciate it,” Truth says.
“Good, we won’t keep you guys.”
Outside, Dawn squeezes my hand. “See that wasn’t so bad. You just wait and see, they’ll come around and things won’t be so tense.
We go back upstairs to watch a movie. Sunshine still hasn’t warmed up to my dating Dawn, but I don’t need her approval. She’s always finding ways to interrupt our alone time. Last night we were just sitting on the porch and she made Jamie join us.
My mom isn't so bad when Romeo is around, he rides her ass hard when he catches her meddling.
We’ll have a break from her tonight. Jamie had a robotics competition up north and they will be gone until sometime tomorrow. Romeo gave permission for Dawn to stay with me. He said he wants to be able to trust us to be smart.
I’m trying but damn do I want her.
Sunshine threw a bitch fit about it, saying she doesn’t want to be a grandma yet.
Dawn is still in high school she’s only seventeen, and I’m not ready to be a dad either. I’m not that stupid, and Dawn is on birth control.
We’ve talked about sex. We both want it, it's just a matter of when.
Tonight could be the night, but I won’t pressure her. The anticipation of having her has been driving me wild, but that only stands to make it that much better.
Dawn
Snuggled up on the couch with Patrick, watching Deadpool, I keep running my hand up and down his thigh hinting that I want him to make a move. Each stroke brings me closer to his dick. His arm is slung over my shoulder and his fingers are tapping above my boob. Wiggling closer to him, I try to get his hand over my breast without being obvious.
I’ve been so patient and understanding of the fact that Patrick wanted us to be respectful taking our time, but I’m dying here. I’ve not been with anyone since JT. Sure Patrick and I have had some steamy makeout sessions, but it’s all been on top of the clothes business.
I need more.
I want more.
I want him.
I’m going to explode while waiting for him to make a move here.
I should just tell him what I want, but I don’t want to push him.
I don’t know why I am being so nervous and acting like a chicken shit. I guess I just want to get this right. Growing frustrated, I decide no more waiting. I excuse myself to the bathroom. I go in and strip down to my lace bra and panty set. Twisting around in the mirror checking out my reflection I feel confident he will like what he sees.
Two deep breaths and I slink down the hallway being quiet so I can surprise him.
When I make it to the couch he isn’t here. Where in the hell is he? I look to the left and see his shadow in the kitchen. I don’t know why, but I tiptoe back to the bathroom, and peer around the doorway waiting for him to sit down. It isn’t like I need to make some big grand entrance or anything.
He takes a drink of his beer then glances down the hall, and I duck like an idiot. I’ve made this so stupid and awkward, harder than it needs to be.
I’m being ridiculous.
This is Patrick.
He loves me and has no expectations.
Taking charge of the situation, I strut down the hallway proudly and straddle him where he sits.
It's the only push he needs to take charge. His hands come around me caressing the small of my back.
My mouth finds his as I flatten my hand against the back of his head and rub down to his shoulder. His soft lips move along my neck as his hands move up my back and around to my awaiting breasts.
Grinding against the bulge in his pants I’m eager to get him out of his clothes. Tonight is most definitely the night.
One word leaves his mouth. “Bed.” He sure said that easy enough. I smile and nod eagerly.
Leading him down the short hall to his bed is surreal. I’ve wanted this for so long.
So many nights I’ve laid awake lusting after him. He was only a few steps away tempting me across the hall, and I had to resist the urge to take what I wanted, because he asked me to wait, to be patient. Now that he is settled in his own place there is nothing to stand in our way.
There’s no Sunshine around to interrupt.
I climb on the bed and scoot to the headboard. He starts to get in bed with his clothes on and I tell him, “No way. Take your clothes off. I’m not waiting anymore. Let me see you, all of you.”
He laughs softly but does as I please.
I’ve seen him without a shirt before, I know what he tries to hide. Cigarette burns, scars from being sliced with a knife. When I look at Patrick I don’t even see his scars anymore, they are a part of him but they don’t define him.
All I see standing before me is a beautiful man, a man that loves all the pieces of me, the good, the bad, the ugly.
His cock juts out standing at attention.
He takes my breath away.
I know he’s insecure, but he doesn’t need to be.
He’s fifty shades of sexy.
“Get over here,” I demand, and he joins me under the covers.
His body blankets mine, our legs tangled under the sheets, as his mouth explores my chest. This is the closest we’ve ever been and laying here with him skin to skin is incredible.
I’ve been with a few guys, and I can’t even compare those experiences with how I am feeling now. Patrick’s touch is on a whole other level. It isn’t about the physical though, it's the emotional bond we share, his love for me, our love for each other.
“Dawn,” he whispers my name. I want to cry he said it perfectly. No stutter. No lisp. I know he’s been working so hard going to speech therapy.
I never knew something as simple as hearing my name could make me feel on top of the world.
“I love you, Patrick.”
His lips meet my stomach as his fingers work at removing my panties.
That mouth of his, good lord, his tongue runs down the length of my right leg and back up the left, ending at my navel. He’s teasing me and he knows it. Gentle fingers part my lips rubbing my sensitive bundle of nerves. My hips buck and his palm flattens over my tummy holding me still. Kicking my feet out doesn't bring me any relief.
His lips, his fingers continue to torture me. Patrick and his love are the only high I need. My fingers trail along his back and down to his butt. His muscles tense beneath my touch.
“Patrick, please, I need you.”
Looking up at me through hooded eyes he smiles lazily. Getting off the bed he goes over to his dresser and gets out a condom. Watching him put the freaking thing on is so damn erotic. I’m on birth control, but we’ve already discussed this. We’re not taking any chances. We have plans and they don’t include my getting pregnant anytime in the foreseeable future. Someday maybe but definitely not today. We come from fucked up backgrounds and we aren’t really sure if kids are something we want. However, it isn’t something we need to decide right now, I’m only seventeen. All I want is to enjoy being with him.
His body snakes up mine, his hardness pressing into my thigh. His mouth caps over my nipple, he’s in no hurry to relieve my sweet ache.
Slipping my hand between us I find his cock, running my fingers over his shaft. I tug on him and line the head of him up with my slit. A hiss escapes his throat as his forehead rests against mine.
Pushing my hand away he continues teasing at my clit, pinching my nub with his thumb and finger fucking me to death.
“Fuck me,” I whisper into his hungry mouth.
He pulls back looking deep in my eyes and shakes his head. “N-n-nu-no. I’ll mathe lufth tu you.”
With my legs hooked around his waist he eases inside me. Perfection. Pulling out, he comes back at me even slower. His torturous seduction has me on the edge of either the best orgasm of my life or my killing him, if he doesn’t stop his teasing.
Sinking deeper in his pace builds. Hooking an arm under my leg, he brings my ankle up on his shoulder. Holy shit, he’s found his rhythm. The weight of him has me unable to move as he buries himself inside me, drilling me relentlessly.
Scratching my nails across the span of his shoulders I squeeze him, tight.
“Futh, Dawn,” he says deeply. The way he says my name will never get old. I want to hear him say it over and over again.
“Say my name again,” I tell him greedily.
His lips curve into a delicious smile.
“Dawn,” he says again, rolling off me so that I can get on top.
Straddling him, I sink down on him feeling like a damn goddess. His firm hands hold my hips keeping our motions in sync. Rolling my hips, I ride him hard then slow, as though our bodies are playing a melody only our hearts can hear.
Gripping my hips hard, the muscles in his neck strain and a vein pops out as he shatters beneath me. Knowing that I made him cum so hard is enough to push me over the edge as his fingers rub against my clit.
Collapsing on his chest, his arms circle me, rubbing my back and moving my hair to my shoulder.
“God I love you,” I say breathlessly.
His lips find mine, owning me completely. Patrick ‘Mute’ Hanes owns me, all of me, now and forever. I may be young, but I just know I will spend the rest of my life, loving him. I was made to love him and he was made to love me.
We both carry the sins of our fathers, but we carry the weight of them together. Neither of us had the best of mothers either, but we have each other. Our scars may be ugly to others. My wrists are marked with my pain, Patrick’s face and his hands will never fully recover from the fire, but our scars remind us of who we are and where we are going.
I don’t know exactly where that is yet, but I know wherever it is we will go there together. A beautiful broken girl, and a beautiful, scarred man, we’re two wounded souls coming together to make one healed heart.