Through a Glass, Darkly (Assassins of Youth MC #1) (23 page)

I was exhausted, too tired to ask if she’d smoked marijuana, and couldn’t begin to keep up with the fifteen-year-old. People were lighting sparklers, setting off cones and fountains of fireworks from on top of their vehicles. I felt like a tiny, insignificant firefly in the greater scheme of things.

“And the Temple of the Dead.”

Gideon corrected her. “It’s called the Temple of Promise.”

Vonda rushed on. “Mom, this is where we can leave the photo of Dad. It’s like a—I kid you not—a giant cornucopia that’s going to also burn this weekend. There are trees inside, and Gideon said he also had a photo to leave there.”

“Oh, yes?” I looked at Gideon. His beautiful profile in repose was like a marble statue, so utterly still. He didn’t flinch when Vonda mentioned a photo he’d brought. I didn’t want to pry. The Temple was where you left photos of departed loved ones. I supposed I’d find out tomorrow who he’d lost. They burned the Temple to the ground at the end of the week.

We watched the sunset in silence for awhile, an aura of bright, almost fluorescent, orange, like Vonda’s Instagram photos. People praised and chanted, their hymns a distant pendulum, but I didn’t say anything. I thought about how wondrous it was that babies were born with a built-in language chip. How miraculous that they put two and two together from the moronic snippets they hear from adults. And we attribute this skill to some brilliance in their intellect! I think they are just learning to remember what they already know.

It was Vonda who asked, “What’ll we do when we go back home?”

And it was Gideon who answered. I was grateful, since I sure as shiz had no clue. “We’ll enroll you in school, Vonda. In the real world, kids keep going to school through the twelfth grade. I’ll talk to those Lazzat Un Nisa guys to find out which school in St. George is the best.”

“Yes, those bikers seem nice,” I said. “I’ll have to get a job.”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Gideon. “You’ll have your hands full just dealing with Kimball and the kids.”

“Emersyn was making sounds like she wants to get out too.”

“She does,” Vonda stated flatly.

I was surprised. “What? What did she say?”

Vonda shrugged. “She said she wants to get out, along with Nephi, Dallon, and Ammon.”

Gideon frowned. “Who’re they?”

Vonda said, “Emersyn’s kids.”

I was glad she’d clarified that, because I wasn’t certain either. “Well, once we’re sure that we’re safe, we can work on that. We can’t burden Gideon with so much all at once. It’s enough that he’s allowing us to live with him.”

“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 pussy 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 fucked 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!
”

Gideon slurped a nipple into his mouth. The suddenness made me jump a foot in the air, but I landed smack back on his hard-on. He lapped away for dear life, and I started relaxing into it. I cradled his skull to my chest, the other hand dexterously tugging the hem of his wifebeater up, up, up over his armpits. He let me yank on it, holding an arm over his head, until I’d stripped his chest bare. I wanted to feel his naked skin against my breasts.

I was soon rewarded when I smashed my chest to his. It was the sort of bonding I’d only felt when nursing Vonda. I felt so close to him, my trust soared, filling the tent with its sanctity. He nuzzled and lapped at my stiff nipple, and all my insecurities evaporated. I became brazen, audacious, brimming with fearlessness. Rocking my pelvis back and forth, my pubic bone massaged his fat penis. He gripped my hip and swayed his pelvis into mine. We dry humped each other like two teenagers.

My clitoris thrilled with every gyration of our hips. I found myself panting with every lunge, glad there was so much commotion going on outside. Our writhing torsos cast a shadow on the side of the tent, but I didn’t care. Gideon’s steely grip held me fast glued to his pelvis. I was shocked when he merely tore the strings that held my flimsy panty together.

I was naked as air, and for once, I didn’t mind.

GIDEON

I
was out
of my mind with desire.

I’d never thought three days was a long time to go without coming, but I also never thought I’d have Mahalia all to myself in a little tent, safe from prying eyes.

Sure, there had been an element of danger to doing it in the cottage. We locked the door when I played with her, but any perseverant moron could have peeked between the blinds or at least interrupted us. That threatening air of exposure hanging over us had sort of added to the thrill, if you want to know the truth. That was probably why I’d been caught doing it with Chelsea in a bathroom. I know I had an exhibitionist side to myself.

But no one was going to bust in now, and the way that dear sweet woman was dry humping my dick, I was going to go off like a rocket in about forty-five seconds.

Her lush, full tits jiggled with every lunge of her hips. I had my face buried in her deep cleavage, smashed almost to the point of being smothered in that luscious rack. That alone was enough to set off an orgasm-starved bastard like myself. I finally had her nearly naked in the palm of my hand. I slid one down the slope of her lower back, grasping her wide ass.

I controlled her like a joy stick from here. Whenever I pushed on her tailbone, she’d give me a great swivel of her hips. It was like she’d taken hula dancing lessons, I’m not kidding. For such a straight-laced woman who’d been buttoned up—literally—her entire life, she sure came undone in my hands. I liked to think it was my influence that encouraged her to kick out the jams. But she was swiveling those sexy, wide hips like there was no tomorrow.

The scent of wet pussy made my nostrils flare. It was like tiny tendrils of sheer cunt juice wafted inside my nose, setting off all kinds of erotic, hormonal whistles in my brain.
Oh yeah. Here’s a chick who’s ready to fuck. You there. Korg, you caveman. Ugh. Grunt. Slide it up inside her.
But I had to cover some mundane bases first.

I took my face from her tits long enough to ask, “Do I need a rubber? ’Cause I’ve got one.”

She stroked the hot side of my face. I was absolutely on fire for her. She looked down at me indulgently, like I was some fumbling, bumbling teenager. Her breath on my damp face was like a pine forest breeze. “I’m on the Pill. You don’t need anything.”

That was all I fucking needed. Unbuckling my heavy pewter belt buckle, I unsheathed my dong with one hand, slipping three fingers against her pussy with the other. Oh,
good God in an evil world
. She was slippery as a forgotten memory, and when I diddled my middle finger across her distended clitoris, she gasped and jumped.

When she came back down, my erect dick was waiting for her. She took the head and a couple inches of cock inside her. Gripping my shoulders, she rotated her hips clockwise, massaging the hell out of my cockhead with her tight cunt. With every swivel her boobs bounced deliciously, luring me like sirens to nibble at her nipples.

That fucking did it. She went absolutely ape once I bit down on a nubbin. “Oh! Gideon!” She loved crying out my name as she corkscrewed her hips down onto my pole, taking another inch, then another. I helped by jiggling my hips, having to inhale giant gulps of air between each thrust just to prevent myself from spilling too soon.

But my nibbling at her nipple and swiping my fingers across her swollen clit was doing the trick. She took one massive lunge, and she was speared so deeply on my cock, I felt the head nudged tightly against her womb.

I tried to hold her there without moving while I diddled her. I’d seen how she came. She was a firecracker going off in a hundred different directions at once, and I wanted to feel that while buried deep inside her.

I fiddled and twiddled with her clit until her eyeballs rolled up inside her head. I could feel her inner cunt walls fluttering, slowly at first, then in big crescendo rolls as her orgasm took hold of her.