Saving Moxie

Studio

I trekked up the wooden steps toward the studio like I had so many times when I was younger. I hadn't seen Jamie all day, which didn't surprise me from the way things went south the night before. Men typically don't bounce right back after their pride is crushed. I knew it was time for me to apologize this time, but I couldn't make him breakfast as a peace offering. I knew that my apology had to be honest and for once, I would need to open up a little bit in order to make things right between us.

I could remember this place in detail. The walls always seemed so dark, paint splattering over every surface of the room. In my mind, I saw this place as a high castle tower that was completely off limits to my sister and I. My mother would glide down from her tower, covered in paint and her hair tied in a mess of curls and colors. My father complained about the smell of dust and paint thinner, but I could only smell imagination and passion. When I had looked at my mother, I saw raw beauty.

The doorway now looked reinforced, like it had been broken into before. I ignored the lump in my throat and stepped up to the doorway anyway, ignoring the stupid creaking. It wasn't collapsing any time soon, and, if it did, I would survive.

I was like a cockroach.

I remembered sitting just outside of this studio while my mother painted and sketched. Often times I missed lunch because she was so wrapped up in her artwork that she forgot I existed. My sister had depression and after she tried committing suicide and was put in the hospital, my mother forgot she had another child that needed to be cared for. Or maybe she just hoped I would starve to death so she didn't have to worry about me.

My father was the one who would come home from whatever mischief he was involved in and made sure I ate - even if he could only really make peanut butter sandwiches. We would sit on those steps for hours, eating those dry sandwiches and joking about the shapes we saw in the clouds. I didn't mention the alcohol on his breath or the bags under his eyes. He didn't bring up the holes in my shirts or the fact that my shoes were two sizes too small.

I knocked once, hearing movement on the other side of the door. I twisted my fingers together in front of me in anticipation as I waited for Jamie to open the door.

After what seemed like forever, I heard a click and the door opened slowly as Jamie peeked out at me. I waved, smiling slightly as surprise and irritation crossed his face.

"What do you need, Moxie?" His tone wasn't necessarily rude or angry, but it made my heart twist painfully in my chest.

"I wanted to say I was sorry."

"Do you even know what you're sorry for?"

I rolled my eyes, sticking out my shoe to stop him from shutting the door on me.

"Of course I know what I'm sorry for. And I rarely apologize. Just hear me out, okay?" He nodded, letting out a small sigh as the anger and irritation disappeared from his face, though I could tell from the way his jaw clenched that he didn't feel entirely happy about it.

I bit my cheek hard as Jamie backed away and let me into the apartment, revealing that he was only in a pair of cotton boxers. I couldn't blame him - on my days off I usually lounged around too. The dynamic was different now though after everything that had happened the night before.

The studio was filled with sleek furniture that was much nicer than the ones back in the main house and a large bed sat in the back, covered in plush pillows and blankets. I had imagined Jamie would live like a bachelor, with empty pizza boxes and dirty clothes laying around, but this looked like a home. The place looked thought out and surprisingly cozy.

A single photo hung on the wall in black and white, a photo of children holding hands with their back toward the camera. It looked like the lighting in it had been fixed and blown up to be framed. It wasn't until I got closer and really looked at the image that I realized it was Jamie and I from the summer before my senior year. His mother had taken this photo right before my father and I packed up and left in the night. I assumed that Jamie continued college and became some educated hot shot. My heart ached for the blooming love in the photo.

"Do you remember that summer?" He asked softly, making me jump as I felt the warmth of him behind me.

"Was I high in that picture?" I asked teasingly, crossing my arms as I remembered the way Jamie and I looked at each other at that age. We were so pure and innocently in love. Back then, we didn't have all the baggage and while s*x was definitely on my mind, we didn't have that type of relationship. Our love was unconditional, not singularly based on s*x or physical attraction. Looking at us now, I wanted to cry at the time that was lost. This was a picture of two innocent kids, stealing quick kisses under the bleachers and holding sweaty hands on the bus to school.

"You and I both know you were sober, Mox." He whispered. I nodded, rubbing my arm in anxiety. "My mom gave that to me shortly after you left." He laughed bitterly, as if he were recalling the memory. "When I realized I wasn't going to find you and you weren't coming back, I didn't get out of bed for weeks."

The admission made my stomach churn in guilt. I hadn't had time to say goodbye to him before we took off. Looking back, I convinced myself it was better that way, but only for me. The lack of closure between us was selfish and wrong on my part.

"I just wanted to say sorry. I didn't realize it seems like I'm playing with your mind." I sighed, examining my split ends as if they were the most interesting thing in the room. In reality, I was trying to avoid looking at the bed and ignore the tension in the room. "I promise I'll be honest with you from this point forward."

The look on Jamie's face was unreadable for me. While he didn't seem entirely convinced, his shoulders relaxed and the hand on his mug of coffee seemed to get a little less aggressive.

"I don't need you to tell me everything. I just... just tell me the important stuff."

"Well, I don't have any warrants for my arrest. Jack doesn't know where I am right now, even though I'm sure he's looking for me. And.." I tapped my chin, moving a little closer to him. "I'm single and love long walks on the beach. Oh, and I hate parties, much against popular opinion."

He laughed, putting the mug down on his sleek coffee table, his arms reaching out to wrap around my waist and sending shivers up my spine. It was amazing to me how perfectly I fit in his arms.

"Okay, so no parties. I think I learned my lesson."

"That guy from the party... he is bad news." I pointed out, worry free flowing out of my body as I relaxed against him. "Just be careful."

He nodded with understanding, even though we both knew that he didn't have the foggiest idea of what to look for when it came to Jack. We were just kids when Jack and I took off, and even before that, he didn't truly know what my father was capable of.

"How did he know you?"

"He ransacked my apartment a few weeks before I came back. He said Jack owed some big guy money - which is nothing new. He basically gave me a warning that if Jack didn't pay back the fifty grand he owed the guy that he would be back to make me pay his debt. You know, normal Saturday night stuff for the daughter of a f**k up." The look on his face told me that he was beginning to understand the bullshit, but the anger that radiated off of him was what worried me. "It's okay though, they only broke a really hideous vase and cut my couch up. And they didn't come back, so I'm guessing he paid off the debt somehow." I shrugged. Jamie ground his teeth together.

"Right. Normal stuff." He sighed, tightening his arms around me and sliding his hand up over my bare back. "I don't understand why you put up with it, Mox. I get that he's your dad, but toxic is toxic."

"He's still my dad. And he has a lot of s**t on me. Who are the cops going to believe? My charming dad who has never done any real hard time or me who doesn't even have a license because I drove f****d up one too many times?"

"I think they would believe you. They may even give you immunity for a confession against him."

"One, I'm no snitch. And two, Jack is small time. It's not like he's some big time criminal, he's just an i***t. And he knows better than to give me any information that I could use against his 'employers'. Now if I had that kind of information, I would have used it a long time ago." I rolled my eyes, resting my cheek against his hard chest. My life seemed so much bleaker out loud.

"I'm just glad you're back so I can keep you safe."

"By the way, how do you know Damian Lake's wife?" I asked slowly, arching my eyebrow at him. "Jen told me you referred her to the shop. I did her sketch today."

"Oh? How did it turn out?" He asked slowly, clearly trying to distract me with art talk.

"Seriously. How do you know her? Or him? He's a good guy but I don't see him being the 'open to suggestions' type of guy from just anyone."

"I did some work for him a couple years back." He said softly, pressing his lips against my hair for a moment before I pulled back to study him and mill over his words. It struck me as odd that Jamie did any kind of work with a cop. All at once, I pictured Jamie selling drugs on a corner or sitting in a drunk tank down at the jail for a weekend. I shook my head at the idea, knowing that Jamie was not that type of guy. He had said so himself when I had asked him point blank if he was a drug dealer and I had never seen him drink in the time I had been back.

"Is that what you do for work? Are you a cop?"

He seemed conflicted with the question, as if it made him uncomfortable.

"I do contract work, mostly. Projects. Work has been a little slow lately, but I think I may have a potential deal with Lake so when his wife brought up the idea of getting a new tattoo, I suggested your work."

I blew out a sigh of relief and nestled myself back against him. I could only assume Jamie meant contract work as construction or handy-man work. He always had been great with his hands and with the way this place looked, I assumed he probably fixed it up himself. I could picture Jamie building someone a nice deck or helping fix someone's roof.

"Keep sending people my way for work and I might start thinking you have a thing for me, James." I peeked up at him, a smirk on my face.

His hands snaked up my back again, though his hands were rougher than before. His breath was noticeably more ragged as his hands slid up and around to caress my breasts, sending jolts of shock through my body.

"I didn't realize it was a secret that I want you." He whispered, running his fingers over my n*****s slowly.

In one swift movement, I felt him tug the string on the back of my shirt, causing it to fall free from my body. I slid it from my arms, letting the fabric fall to the floor as a smirk drifted lazily over my lips.

Before my brain could process what was happening fully, his lips were on mine, demanding my full attention as he guided me back toward his bed. It was wild to me how quickly we could go from zero to one hundred, but everything about this felt right. I nearly tripped over the small chair next to us, but his strong arms lead me back with confidence as he pulled my skirt down over my legs and to the floor.

This time, there was something different between us when we kissed.

"I really just want to taste you. I've been thinking about this since you walked in here." He whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.

"You're such a tease."

"My tongue can do a better job of teasing you than my words can." He quipped, pulling my panties down around my ankles from under my skirt and sliding me back into the bed.

His tongue was soft, and demanding at the same time, running circles around my c**t and sliding fingers into me as his other hand caressed my breasts, as if he wanted to touch every inch of my body. While he kissed, licked, and sucked every ounce of control out of me, my eyes rolled into the back of my head. The sight of him between my legs made me squirm and moan, my breath heaving out uncontrollably as I rocked my hips against his mouth. My fingers dug painfully into the mattress below me as I attempted to stabilize myself back in reality as waves of pleasure rocked through my core.

My back arched as I felt him back away from me, attempting to draw him back as the muscles in my stomach tightened at the impending orgasm. My eyes shot open as he moved back slightly, a smirk on his face as his boxers dropped to join our other clothes on the floor.

"Why are you stopping?!" I nearly screamed, whining in a way I had never heard from myself.

"You need to cool off."

"No, I need you to keep eating my p***y like it's your f*****g job!" I exclaimed, pushing myself forward and pulling on his shoulders in desperation. The laugh that came from him was both evil and incredibly sexy.

Slowly, he lowered his head again and ran his tongue over my swollen bud, teasing me again. I screamed in frustration as I wrapped my legs around his neck to stop him from pulling away again. I called his name over and over again as pleasure ripped through me with release, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as he gave one last powerful suck and threw me over the edge again.

The things he could do with that tongue made me want to melt right into his mattress.

As Jamie slowly crawled up my body, I felt as if my heart would beat out of my chest, my legs shaking as the world was shattering around me.

"I'll be right back." He said in a husky way that made me arch against him, wanting nothing more than for him to touch me again.

"Where are you going?" I asked a little too frantically, attempting to grab him to stop him from leaving.

"I'll be right back!" He exclaimed with a laugh, lifting from the bed as my fingers slid down to my wetness, rubbing impatiently before his hand was around my wrist. "I don't think so. I want to see your face the next time you come."

I thought about the words I wanted to say to him as he walked away, but nothing came to mind. I wanted to yell at him to come back, but I also could barely form a full thought as I watched the way he moved when he walked to the living area of the studio and came back with a long packet of condoms.

I wanted to tell him that I was on the pill, but I assumed that after the uh-oh of no condom the night before in the car, he wanted to be safe. I tried to think it was Jamie being chivalrous and not as a personal attack. I was a new woman - open and brutally honest and vulnerable - and it felt so good.

I smiled down at him as he climbed back into the bed, pulling me toward him by my ankle and causing me to squeal in a way I hadn't heard from myself in a long time. He pushed his hands over my thighs as he pushed them farther apart, his eyes darkening as he looked over my naked body like I was a piece of art.

"You are the sexiest woman I have ever laid my eyes on." He growled, sliding his finger through my wetness once and sending a shock through my body before rolling the condom on. "I could eat your sweet p***y all day."

I groaned at the words, hooking my ankle around his hip in attempt to pull him closer to me, craving his touch.

Spreading my legs so I was spread wide open for him, Jamie filled me with his hard length, making my eyes roll back into my head again and my mouth fall open in bliss. It felt so good rocking against him as he thrusted into me in a way that made my head feel like it would explode from ecstasy.

He stopped for a moment, pulling my chest hard against him and kneading my ass as I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck.

"You're so f*****g good, Mox," he breathed into my ear hot and heavy, pulling me down onto his d**k over and over until I screamed his name, my fingers digging into his skin and hips bucking wildly as I came over and over in waves on him.

After losing count of how many times I came, Jamie thrusted himself deep inside of me for the last time before I felt his body relax under me.

I could still feel him inside of me as we both fell onto the bed, breath coming out ragged and exhaustion taking us both over, completely spent.

The last thought that ran through my mind before falling asleep on top of him was how much I loved his man.