Page 4

Chapter 3

Sparrow

The sudden stop of the car jolts me awake from my drunken haze.

“We’re here,” a voice grumbles.

Where’s here? And whose voice is that? How did I get here again? Right…Eric was about to…And then this huge man stopped him…The biker…The one who was laughing at me before…What was his name again? Louis. A kind name. A good name.

“Go on, get out of the car,” he says. “Or do you need help with that?”

I can’t tell if his question is serious or not.

“Need me to carry you?” he adds, and again I can’t tell if he’s mocking me or simply trying to help.

“N-No,” I say. “I can walk.”

Louis leads me out of the car and into an apartment on the first floor. The sudden bright light in the hallway hurts my eyes, and with the hurt comes a new wave of nausea.

“Feel sick,” I whine.

“Come here.” Louis herds me into the bathroom, and he barely has time to open the lid before I throw myself over the toilet and barf the contents of my stomach into the bowl.

If I felt embarrassed before, it’s nothing compared to this. I don’t even know the guy, yet here I am puking into his toilet.

“There you go.” He gathers my hair in one hand while he strokes my back with the other. “Let it all out.”

Tears push past my eyes along with the vomit, and another wave of nausea crowds the embarrassment away. I puke until nothing but bile comes up. I puke until I feel like my eyes are going to bulge out of their sockets. I didn’t have much to eat today, but there’s still somehow a lot of stuff that wants to come out of me.

“Who gave you this much to drink?” Louis asks.

“Eric,” I say miserably. “His name was Eric.”

Louis swears under his breath. Seems like he does that a lot.

“Is he bad?” I ask.

Louis raises an eyebrow at me and wipes my mouth with a towel. “Yeah, he’s bad. Stay away from him.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Feeling all right now? I don’t think much more can come out of you,” he adds with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’m all right.” I do feel better actually; now I just feel miserable and cold.

“Your shirt got dirty. Let’s take it off.”

I raise my arms and allow him to pull off my shirt. Wrapping my arms around my skinny torso, I watch him as he puts the tap on in the bathtub.

Wait … Bathtub … I’m not ready …

“It’ll feel nice to wet your face after that much puking,” Louis explains. “Don’t worry.”

But I do worry.

“Come on.” He waits patiently as I shiver. “Why are you shaking? It’s not that cold.”

My mouth tastes of bile and disgusting remnants of alcohol, so maybe he’s right. I kneel over the lip of the bath and allow him to turn the spray toward my face. I garble lukewarm water as Louis brushes my hair out of my face again, fills a cupped hand with water, and rinses my mouth out.

“I’ll never drink again,” I choke out.

Louis snorts. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“Have you ever felt like this before?”

“Many times.”

“H—” I want to ask him a question again, but another wave of nausea catches me unaware. “I-I have to…”

“Go ahead. It’ll wash down the drain.”

I let the last contents of my poor stomach out with the water, and Louis rinses my mouth out again. I drink some of the water as he does it, and tears pour from my eyes as a sob rips from my chest.

“Are you sad, kid?”

“He tried to trick me,” I whine.

“Who did?”

“Eric. I was supposed to have fun tonight, but he ruined it.”

Louis sighs. “Yeah. If it’s any consolation, I’ll try to get him banned.”

“You can do that?” I look up at him with big eyes.

“I can try,” he says with a lopsided smile that shows off his teeth. Like this, he looks almost wolflike, and something that isn’t nausea rushes up my throat. He’s handsome. I didn’t notice it before, but up close like this, I do. He’s really, really handsome.

I realize I’m staring at him, and when he meets my gaze, I flinch and look away.

“How are you feeling now, kid?” He keeps calling me kid. I’m not that young, damn it! “Think you can get to the bed without puking your guts out all over my apartment?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.”

He leads me into the living room. It’s a strange apartment, with motorcycle parts littering every surface, and a large, broken-apart motorcycle standing next to the TV. I’m used to messy places, but this isn’t messy per se; everything is clean as far as I can see, but there’s just…a lot to it.

Louis rummages around in his wardrobe and comes up with a huge T-shirt that’s bound to reach all the way to my knees.

“Think this will do?” He bunches up the shirt in his hands, gesturing for me to lift my arms. I do, and he slips the shirt over my head and pulls it down as if he’s my parent or something. Not that I’d know; I never knew my real parents. My first foster mom did this sometimes when I was really young though.

This simple gesture makes me feel like I’m young again, or more like I’m…taken care of. I feel the same way I sometimes felt with Aaron when he was being good to me, like when he allowed me to sleep next to him in the hammock in summertime. He’d let me rest my head on his chest as he read his comic books in the sun. I liked Aaron when he was kind, but that just made it all the more complicated when he wasn’t kind.

What if Louis is kind without having any bad, unkind sides? What if he can be the one to…

“I’ll set a bucket on the floor in case you need to throw up again.” He nods toward the other room, which I assume to be the bedroom. “Make sure to drink some water once you’re feeling up for it; it’ll make tomorrow morning easier.”

“Wait…Where are you going to sleep?”

“Here.” He turns around and lifts a blanket from the couch.

“No,” I blurt out. “Please…please sleep with me.”

Louis pauses and sends me a questioning glance over his shoulder.

“I don’t mean… sleep with me. I just mean sleep next to me. Please, I’m…I’m scared.” The alcohol must still be loosening my tongue. Otherwise, I don’t think I would’ve dared to say this. Also, Louis makes me strangely calm; despite his intimidating size and gruff demeanor, I know he won’t hurt me. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. On the other hand, I didn’t think Aaron would hurt me, yet he did. He hurt me so badly.

Louis turns back around, his dark, bushy eyebrows raised. “You’re scared? There’s nothing to be scared of here, little Sparrow.”

His voice goes soft as he says that last part. Little Sparrow . Soft and gentle. Unlike him, Aaron used to snarl my name with a contemptuous sneer. Sparrow . A weak, birdlike creature.

I take a deep breath, unable to meet his gaze. “I can’t sleep alone in new places.” It’s true—whenever I try to sleep in an unfamiliar bed, I lie awake into the wee hours, listening to all the sounds the house makes: the faint hum of the radiator, the cars outside, the wind…

Louis looks at me for a long while. Multiple times, I glance up and then down again, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. His shirt.

Please say yes, please say yes…

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. But I should warn you: I’m a snorer.”

“That’s okay,” I say, nodding in relief.

I crawl under the covers while Louis lifts his shirt over his head, revealing a hairy chest, bulging muscles, and a thick pair of arms covered in tattoos.

My jaw falls open. Oh my god, he’s huge . With the bedcovers drawn up to my chin, I try not to stare, but it proves even more impossible when he unbuckles his belt and slides his jeans off. I glimpse the bulge in the crotch of his plain white boxers, and it looks just as big as the rest of him. Proportional, rather.

I gulp and turn to the side as he climbs into bed next to me. Heat radiates from his side of the bed, and I snuggle a bit closer to steal some of his warmth.

“I’m not going to cuddle you,” he grumbles. “Stay on your side of the bed.”

“Okay,” I whisper, too tired for true disappointment. Aaron didn’t cuddle me either, not for lack of my trying. Most of the time, I ended up as the big spoon, awkwardly trying to hold his larger frame.

I close my eyes and try to relax, but my head is still spinning, and I still can’t fully grasp how I ended up here. The whole night is a bit blurry.

All I know is I got stupidly drunk with a snake of a man called Eric, then Louis saved me and took me home and let me puke my guts out in his toilet with no judgment, and now he’s lying next to me in bed, providing me with the first sliver of safety I’ve had in years.

I awaken slowly, eyelids sticking together with sleep dust and grime. Did I cry in my sleep? Wouldn’t be the first time.

“You’re a restless sleeper,” someone grumbles beside me.

I startle, my heart making a ruckus in my chest. Calm down . It’s just Louis. He brought me here. He took care of me. He looks at me with raised eyebrows now, dark hair in disarray along with his beard.

“Sorry.” I have a vague memory of trying to hold on to him in the night, but I gave up when he repeatedly but gently pushed me away. “Did I talk in my sleep?”

“Mm-hmm,” Louis grunts.

“What did I say?” My throat feels dry as dust, and I reach for the water bottle Louis put at my bedside last night. I take a few gulps, groaning at the feeling that reverberates in my whole body. I feel so bad. Absolutely terrible. I’m for sure not drinking ever again.

Instead of answering my question, Louis just glances at me and makes a wordless, grumbling noise from deep in his chest.

Oh. I said something weird, then. I frown and curl in on myself, sucking on the water bottle with tiny sips. My head is spinning, and an ache builds in my temples, making me want to press my eyes into their sockets.

Louis stretches his huge body over the bed, hairy arms entering my personal space, and I fight between the urges to pull back and snuggle closer. I have no time to decide before he crawls to the edge of the bed, sits upright, and rolls his neck. The sun shining in from the window glitters along his tattooed back, and his muscles ripple under his skin as he gets up and stretches his arms, the wide glory of his body on full display.

My mouth falls open at the sight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone that tall and muscular and with that many tattoos. I wonder what they mean, if anything, but I suspect Louis won’t tell me even if I ask.

He pulls on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before he sends me a glance. “Drink some more water and try to go back to sleep. You’ll feel better that way.”

I do as he says—drawing the covers up to my chin and trying to defy the revved-up beat of my heart.

I must have dozed off for a few minutes, because when I open my eyes again, I smell food: eggs and…pancakes? My stomach grumbles, and I get to my feet, still feeling very much as if my limbs are disobeying my thoughts. They’re swaying too much, too weak and unsteady even for me.

Louis stands by the kitchen counter, and when he sees me, he doesn’t smile, but he’s not scowling either. His gaze drops to my bare legs, where the length of his shirt reaches all the way to my knees. A flush creeps up my throat, and I contemplate putting on my own clothes, but my shirt and pants might still be wet from last night.

Louis nods toward the sofa table. “Go ahead, kid. You’ll feel better with some food in you.”

My mouth drops open once again at the sight of plates filled with eggs, bacon, pancakes, juice, and coffee. Maybe this is a common Saturday breakfast for him, but somehow, I doubt it.

“Okay…” I sit on the couch, at a loss for what to do.

Louis sits next to me, the couch dipping with his weight. He pours me a cup of juice, but I make no move to take it.

“Don’t feel like eating?” He puts on the TV, then grabs himself a piece of bacon and devours it in one bite.

“No, it’s…it’s not that.” Not only did he save me from Eric, but he also brought me here, held my hair as I puked all over his toilet, let me sleep in his bed without making a single move to touch me, and now this? It’s way too much. I don’t even know him, yet he’d do this for me? Why? He has to have a reason. Few people are this kind without expecting anything in return. Can it be that he doesn’t want me? Is that it?

I take a piece of bacon with the eggs, and even though I was feeling sick just a few minutes ago, the taste makes me moan.

Louis snorts. “So you were hungry after all.”

All the while as we’re eating, I feel him watching me now and again. I sneak glances at him too, and an idea forms in my mind. Time to find out if he wants me or not.

I eat as much as I can stomach, wipe my mouth with a paper towel, and turn to him.

“Thank you,” I say, letting all my gratefulness out in my voice this time.

“No need to thank me, kid.”

“Yeah, there is. I made you leave your friends behind, and I puked all over your toilet, and I—”

“Heated up my bed so I could barely sleep? Yeah.” He lets out a bark of a laugh. “I guess you should be grateful for that.” He wipes his mouth and takes a sip of coffee, turning back to the TV. Great, the TV holds his attention better than I do. This is going to be harder than I thought.

“Louis.”

“Yeah?”

I try to look at him the way Aaron always liked: lips slightly pouted, brows tilted upward. Horny. I try to look horny. With Louis, it’s not a difficult feat, because he turns me on a lot.

“I want to do you a favor, the way you did for me.”

“Mm-hmm. Meaning what?”

Still distracted. Time to go in for the kill.

I slide my hand over his thigh and cast a deliberate glance at the bulge between his legs.

“Oh,” he says, eyebrow raised. “ Oh .” Then he throws his head back and laughs.

Laughs .

“What?” I tried to be sexy, and this is how he reacts? I’m too hungover to be truly offended, but my mouth twists into a sullen pout.

Louis wipes his hand over his face. He’s got a few pieces of egg stuck in his beard. I want to crawl into his lap and lick them off.

“It’s just…You’re a little young for me, kid.”

“I’m almost twenty-one.”

“Yeah, that just proves my point. How old do you think I am?”

I shrug.

“I’m thirty-nine,” he says, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, well, that’s…” Okay, he’s a little bit older than I thought. I don’t have a lot of experience trying to gauge people’s ages; it’s just not something I focus on. But what does it matter anyway? “It’s just a blow job.”

“Just a blow job, huh? But do you want to do it?”

What does he mean? “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”

“So you’re used to sucking guys’ dicks for favors?”

“No, I’m not!” I protest. I’ve only ever sucked one guy’s dick before, and he rarely did me any favors. I glare down into my lap, embarrassed by how bad this is going. Anytime I tried to seduce Aaron, he was always up for it. I haven’t tried it with anyone else, and clearly my efforts are more pathetic and unskilled than I thought.

Louis’s hand reaches to my chin, two knuckles tilting my face up. The callused edge of his thumb brushes over my lower lip.

“I guess you can try,” he says, amber eyes glittering. “If you want it so badly.”

Relief courses through me, and I smile up at him. “Yeah, I want to. Want to make you feel good. You make me feel…”

“I make you feel how, boy?”

“Safe,” I whisper, a flush heating my cheeks.

“I do?” Louis says, puzzled.

With how huge and intimidating he looks at first glance, he’s probably not used to making people feel safe, but to me, he’s perfect. So big and protective. I imagine his huge arms wrapping around me—imagine myself disappearing in the warm sea of his body as he’d hold me tight and protect me from danger.

I blush at my silly thoughts. Of course Louis wouldn’t want to do that for me. The focus now is on his pleasure. I’m going to make him feel good, to thank him for taking care of me.

He slides his hand into my hair and tugs, playfully tipping my head backward. “Have you ever sucked a cock before, little Sparrow?”

“Yes,” I hiss, the base of my scalp stinging with pain and anticipation as the grip tightens. “I have.”

“Well, then. Go on.” Louis nods between his legs, and I scramble to get down to the floor and kneel between his massive thighs.

I don’t have the skill nor the confidence to make this into some kind of show, so instead, I simply pop the buttons of his jeans open one by one, unveiling more and more of his hairy crotch. As I tug at the fabric, Louis lifts his ass to allow me to slide his jeans down his thighs, but he makes no move to tug down his boxers.

Okay, he’s going to make me do all the work. I try to convince myself I’m fine with it, though I’m getting more nervous by the second.

I palm his crotch, feeling the heat of him. His cock isn’t even half-hard yet, but I can already tell it’s far bigger than Aaron’s. I tilt my face and press my nose to the fabric, and Louis inhales a sharp breath. I do too, inhaling the manly scent of musk, and his cock twitches against my cheek as I press my face harder against him. Bet he didn’t expect that.

I tug his boxers down, and his cock jumps free, slapping my chin. I pull back, both curious and a little scared to see what I’m working with. The hem of his boxers presses against his balls, and…Wow. My eyes must be bulging out of my head at the sight of it, and Louis chuckles darkly at my reaction.

Aaron wasn’t nearly this big, and I had enough trouble taking him all the way down my throat. He used to berate me for it—mock me for how bad I was at sucking cock. Deeper, come on. No, not like that, ow! Fucking teeth. You’re so fucking useless.

I flick my gaze back up at Louis.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks, a smug tilt to his lips. “You said you’ve done this before.”

I have. But I haven’t had anything nearly this big in my mouth. How is it even going to fit? I’m regretting my decision a little bit now. Aaron used to mock me for my small mouth…What if I’m going to be the worst blow job Louis has ever had? I can’t let that happen.

I lap a testing stroke of my tongue at the slit. Above, Louis inhales a sharp breath again, and his hand lands at the top of my scalp, twisting into my hair. Is he trembling? With renewed confidence, I lap at a pearl of precum beading at the tip and take the fat head between my lips, getting used to the taste and feel of it on my tongue.

“Yeah, that’s it…” Louis groans. “Good boy.”

Arousal surges through my body, and suddenly I’m rock-hard and craving the relief of friction against my cock. I whine and shift to sit with my knees clasped around Louis’s left leg, pressing my groin into his calf.

Good boy. Yeah, I want to be good. I want to be so good for him.

I suckle the head some more and bring my hand around the shaft, gasping as it twitches in my fist.

“Go on,” Louis says, hand tightening in my hair. “You can take it deeper now.”

I make a muffled sound around his cock as I try to force the head further inside. The cavity of my mouth fills up with the heavy weight of him, my jaws hinging wide with the stretch, my lips pressing tight against his silky-smooth skin.

“That’s it,” Louis says. “Go slow. Don’t want you to choke just yet.”

I put my hands on my folded legs and try to relax, and at the same time, I try to make sure my teeth don’t brush his shaft as he slides his cock further than it has been before, further than I ever thought it could go. The head presses at the back of my throat, and suddenly I feel like I’m going to be sick. I choke and pull back, a string of spit connecting my lips to the head.

“Yeah, that’s hot,” Louis mumbles. “Look at me, boy.”

I gaze up at him with tearstained lashes. My chin is wet with spit as I gape even wider, sticking my tongue out and flattening it along the underside of his dick.

“Yeahhh, there you go,” Louis groans. “You know a thing or two about sucking cock after all.”

The praise goes straight to my own cock, and I can’t help myself from humping his leg like a dog. I feel ready to burst at any moment.

“Think you can take a little more?” Louis asks, and I nod. He grips my hair and guides my head deeper, and deeper, and deeper. His crown hits the back of my throat, and as it tries to push even further, my eyes shoot wide open.

Oh god. Oh wait, it’s too…

I pat desperately at his legs, and he pulls back.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “That was a little too far for you. Try to keep that mouth open wide, okay? You’re scraping me with your teeth.”

He tells me the same things Aaron used to tell me, but with a patient tone—none of Aaron’s sneers and derisions.

“Let’s try again,” Louis says, breathing heavily. He grips my head and guides me further and further down his shaft. I gag at the feeling but try hard not to push off. I want to be good for him, and I will, I’ll be so good…

“There you go,” Louis says, and a deep groan rumbles from his chest. I look up at him, and his face is slack with pleasure.

I groan around the head of his dick, sending vibrations down his shaft. I know this feels good. Aaron did it to me a few times but only when I was so needy and anxious that I didn’t know what to do with myself, and he needed to get me to calm down or else I’d explode with all the words that needed to get out of my head and all the feelings that threatened to rip my chest wide open.

He knew the deepest, darkest parts of me. He sniffed out my need to be dominated. He knew I needed attention, and he attended me.

But he was a bad man , I tell myself for the hundredth time. He deserves what you did to him. He deserves that you left him without a word.

Louis guides me off his cock. Cupping my jaw, he urges me to look up at him. “That’s all you can take?”

Oh no. He’s sick of my pathetic attempts at sucking his cock. He can’t come like this; there’s no use, no use at all…He has no use for me…

“It’s okay.” He grips his shaft with his other hand and starts jerking himself. “Just suck on the tip like that, and I’ll come in your mouth.”

I suck the head eagerly between my lips, trying to clamp my lips around him as tight as I can while I press my tongue to the underside. Louis jerks himself with quick, determined movements, and I look up at him with tearstained lashes, so eager to get what he’s offering me.

“You ready?” Louis grunts.

Yeah, I’m ready. God, yes, give it to me…

His cock jerks, and the feeling of his warm cum spurting down my throat is enough for my own release to rush up my spine and wet my boxers. I groan, eyes falling closed with the sensation of him filling me completely. I try to swallow it all, but there’s so much of it. Louis keeps milking himself into my mouth, and I gulp it down as best I can, but some overflows and seeps past the corners of my lips.

After what feels like minutes, Louis pulls me carefully off his cock, and I lick my lips desperately to get any spilled drops of cum into my mouth. With his hand in my hair, I rest between his legs, completely sated—his seed in my mouth, his hairy thigh tickling my cheek, and his musky scent in my nose…

“You liked that?” he asks, and the hand in my hair tightens.

I nod weakly. All I get out is a low whine. The cum coating my underwear is going to go stiff and yucky soon, but I couldn’t care less. All I care about is Louis’s hand in my hair and his warm, hairy thigh against my cheek. I slump heavier against him, and he twines my locks out of my face, fingertips rubbing my scalp.

“Good boy,” he mumbles. “Such a good boy. You needed this.”

Yeah, I needed it. I needed it so bad. I lap up the praise like a starved man, and sounds I have no control over slip from my still-open mouth. I don’t know if I’m drooling or if the remnants of Louis’s cum are trickling from the corner of my lips.

This is what I want. Oh, this is what I’ve craved for so long…I’ve wanted a man like Louis to shove his cock inside me and then lovingly stroke my cheek and praise me for how good I am. Aaron never praised me; all he did was mock me. Louis isn’t like Aaron, not at all. I know that now. But I don’t want this to be just a one-off; I know Louis is the one, I just know it…

The doorbell rings, loud and piercing. I jolt out of my pleasantly dazed state and launch straight into panic mode.

“Who…” I have time to speak no further before Louis pushes me off his lap. I fall backward onto the carpet and barely catch myself with my palms.

“Louis!” There’s a rattle of knocks on the door. “Open up.”

Louis wrestles his pants back on and opens the door. In the doorway stands the tall, dark-haired man I vaguely recognize from last night.

“Louis, what’s up, my man?” he begins, then pauses when he catches sight of me, and a smug smile spreads over his lips. “Oh, I see. You’ve got company.”

“He was just leaving,” Louis grumbles, sending me a look over his shoulder.

Leaving? Yeah…Of course he doesn’t want me here anymore. I’ve outstayed my welcome, and my usefulness has long since expired.

I rise from the carpet, chin slick with spit and cum, and I wipe it off with the sleeve of my shirt. Now that I’ve woken up from my postorgasmic haze, the only evidence of what happened between us is my aching jaw and the cooling mess of cum in my underwear.

I pull on my pants and pass the doorway. Ravi sends me a knowing smile, but Louis…Louis’s dark and steely gaze stares into nothing, as if I wasn’t even there.

I wipe my chin and ignore the foolish tears pressing against my eyes. What did I expect? Why even say goodbye? Why even deign to look at me? I’ll be gone like Louis wants, and our time spent together will soon be nothing but a memory. This was a one-off, a pipe dream, a half-imagined ideal that will never come true.