My Angel is the Centerfold

Chapter 3

River carefully mauvered her car into the narrow space between the reserved handicap spot and a rusty old pontiac. She took a nervous look around the parking lot before she climbed out, suddenly wishing that she told Carol where she was really going instead of making up a lie about needing to run to the baking supply store on the other side of town. There was a man sleeping nearby, his head resting against the side of the building as a large damp puddle slowly spread out under his ass. She wrinkled her nose up at the odor of stale piss and cheap gin that was wafting off him. And River felt a pang of pity for the small skinny dog that man had leashed to his wrist. The animal moved towards River, stretching his leash out as far as it would possibly go and staring up at her with a pitiful look in its eyes. It was wagging its tiny stump of a tail so hard, River might have been tempted to stop and pet him if she wasn't afraid to get closer to the dog's piss soaked owner.

River made sure her car was locked. Then she checked it one more time just to be safe. Her purse was slung over her shoulder. So even if someone forced her car door open, which was a distinct possibility given where she was, the most they'd be able to take from her was the change in her ashtray. River's eyes flicked across the familiar motorcycle that was parked a few spaces down from her car as she headed for the cement staircase. It stuck out like a shiny diamond in the parking lot full of old junkers and stolen bicycles. A stranger might wonder why the owner felt safe leaving the expensive vehicle so exposed in this place. But River knew that no one staying at the cheap fleabag motel would be stupid enough to even breathe too close to it, given who the owner was.

River quickly scanned the room numbers printed on the outside of the cheap motel doors. As she hurried up the stairs, a door near the top of the staircase opened. River tried to pretend she didn't notice the scantily clad woman that stepped out. The woman clamped a cigarette between the two teeth she had left, lighting it before she headed down the steps in the opposite direction River was going. When she reached the top of the stairs, River turned to her left, following the numbers until she reached room two hundred and ten. She rapped on the door, tugging the hem of her tank top down to cover the small exposed strip of her midriff while she waited.

To her relief, River didn't have to wait long before the motel room door swung open. Merle favored her with a tight grin, his eyes roaming over her body and lingering on her cleavage. His muscular frame filled the space, making him seem taller and thicker than he really was. He was wearing a dingy white tank top. And a pair of faded blue jeans were hanging low on his hips since his belt was still somewhere inside the room.

Merle smiled at her, waiting to see if River would smile back before he moved out of the doorway and motioned her into the room. After their last encounter, River wasn't overly eager to be stuck inside the small space with her ex husband. But being inside the hotel room with Merle felt safer than standing outside with the prostitutes and piss covered crackheads. So River moved past him and entered his motel room.

River turned her body sideways, but Merle made the open space in the doorway so narrow that she was forced to brush her body against his to get inside. River ground her teeth, angry at the small flush of heat that was already rising inside her. No matter how many times she told herself that he was the worst kind of disgusting man-pig, her body always seemed to have feelings of its own. Just the slight brush of his hard body against hers already had her nipples standing at full attention.

The inside of the room was about what she would expect from a cheap pay by the week motel in the worst part of town. The carpet was stained and worn. The place smelled like stale cigarette smoke and beer. There were two full sized beds in the room, each covered with tacky floral bedspreads that looked to be the only thing in the room that was in worse shape than the carpet. In contrast to the general dirty appearance of the place, Merle's personal items were arranged in small neat stacks on the bed furthest from the door. The small garbage can had been emptied of the inevitable stack of fast food wrappers and takeout containers she knew he probably had it filled with before she arrived. There was an ashtray on the table. But like the trash can, it had been emptied and cleaned.

"Ya look good," Merle drawled, clicking the door shut and casually leaning his body against it. "I like yer hair dark like that," he added.

"Thanks," River replied, nervously fingering the strap on her purse. She was trying to keep her eyes on her feet. But like the rest of her body, they betrayed her by flicking up and holding his gaze. She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing with the effort. "You look good too," she admitted, though the meaning in her words was clear to both of them. She wasn't commenting on Merle's appearance. She was letting him know that she could tell he was sober. At least for the moment. After seventeen years of putting up with his on and off the wagon bullshit, River knew better than to get her hopes up.

"Do you really have it?," River asked, her hand moving to rest on her hip as she raised an eyebrow at him. "The money," she added, clarifying her question before Merle could think up a few other choice things he might have for her that she certainly wasn't there to receive.

Merle nodded, smiling at her again. He took his time moving across the room and retrieving a stack of cash from under one of his neatly stacked piles of folded clothes. He moved back in her direction, extending his hand towards her. River reached for the money. But he pulled his arm back slightly, forcing her to move closer to him so she could take the wad of cash from his hand. The money crumpled as she jerked it from his grasp.

"Is this all of it?," she asked, ripping the zipper of her purse open and stuffing the money inside without bothering to count it.

"Yup," Merle confirmed. "Everythin' I took from ya. And another grand. Buy the girls somethin' nice. Ya don't have ta tell 'em it came from me."

"Do I even wanna know where ya got that kinda money from?," River chided. If Merle had several thousand dollars to just give away, why was he sleeping at this fleabag motel, River wondered. She shook her head, quickly deciding that she wasn't even going to bother trying to make sense of Merle's life decisions. Nothing he did made sense.

"Not unless ya wanna be an accessory after the fact," Merle teased, his lips curving up into a mischievous smile. River rolled her eyes and sighed, fighting the urge to lecture him. Merle knew how long his criminal record was. Being a decorated war veteran already bought him more leniency with the justice system than most people got. If he got caught at whatever he was doing this time, there was a good chance they'd lock him up and throw away the key.

"Just be careful," River suggested, knowing full well that her warning was falling on deaf ears. Merle was going to do whatever was best for Merle, regardless of how it might affect her or his daughters. Just like he always did.

River adjusted the strap of her purse, pulling it up higher on her shoulder. And then she took a step towards the door. Before she got any further, she felt Merle's hand wrap around the upper part of her arm. The hold he had on her was gentle. He wasn't pulling or jerking her around. Not yet anyway.

"Ya don't have ta rush off," he said. The low gravelly tone of his voice made River's stomach flutter. And she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to concentrate on keeping her head and not on the way Merle was stroking the pad of his thumb back and forth across the bare skin of her arm. River lifted her other hand to her face, skimming her fingers over the crooked spot on the bridge of her nose. The old break was a souvenir from the last time she agreed to let Merle move back in with her and their daughters. Harley was twelve at the time. And River promised her daughter she'd never take him back again. A promise she meant and kept, despite their occasional transgressions.

"I tole ya I'd pay ta get that fixed," he said, catching her hand in his and pulling it gently away from her nose. Merle brought her hand up to his face instead, pressing a hot kiss into the center of her palm. His lips found her wrist next, parting as he flicked his tongue across the sensitive skin there. The softness of his lips was in sharp contrast to the rough scratch of his stubble covered jawline.

River parted her lips, a small gasp escaping from between them. She tugged her arm loose from his grasp. And before she could completely lose control, she spun on her heel and started for the door. River gripped the doorknob. But she only got the door open about an inch before Merle's palm was pressing flat against the cheap wood, forcing the door shut again. He pressed his body against hers, sandwiching her between himself and the door. Her purse slipped off her shoulder, landing on the stained carpet near her feet. And River let out a soft moan as pressed her palms flat against the door. Merle's heated breath ghosted across the back of her neck. And then he was kissing a hot trail up the cords of her neck to her ear. His hands slid between her body and the door to cup her breasts, lifting and massaging them through her tank top and the thin lacy fabric of her bra.

"Merle," River gasped. "We shouldn't be doin' this…"

"Yer my wife," he countered. His hands skimmed down her body and then back up, pulling her tank top up with them. He gripped the underside of her bra, peeling it up to free her breasts. Her nipples were already hard. And he rolled them between his fingers, applying just enough pressure to skirt the line between pleasure and pain. "Ya want me ta stop?," he asked, whispering into her ear and following the question with a soft chuckle when River's only response was a soft breathy moan.

Merle kept one hand on her breast as the other one slid lower. He popped the button on her jean shorts open and slid his hand inside her damp panties. There was no slow teasing touch, like the soft caress he gave her breasts. He angled his hand and shoved two thick fingers hard and fast inside her slicked pussy. She cried out. River could feel her legs starting to buckle. But Merle wrapped his other arm around her waist, keeping her in place as he continued his assault on her. He pounded his fingers into her until she was on the verge of finding her release.

River whimpered as Merle pulled his hand away. She spun to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck and lifting up on her tiptoes to kiss him. She parted her lips eagerly, his tongue dancing with hers as he walked her backwards towards the bed. They stopped, peeling off their clothes before River tossed the stained bedspread off the bed and onto the floor.

Lying back, River parted her thighs as Merle brought the weight of his hard body down on top of hers. His hand slid between them, gripping the base of his dick and lining it up with her slicked opening. He'd pushed his fingers into her hard and fast. But he used the opposite tactic with his dick. He barely slid the swollen head of his hard length inside her before he pulled it back out, repeating this maneuver until River was writhing beneath him begging him to fuck her.

Her hair was mussed and her breasts were heaving with her hard ragged breaths. Merle lowered himself on top of her, kissing her as he entered her with one hard thrust. Her insides convulsed around him as they stretched to accommodate his girth. And she came almost immediately, her nails digging into his back as she moaned into his mouth. He pounded into her, not allowing himself to find his own release until he felt her come for the second time.

River lay still, her head resting on Merle's chest as she allowed herself to enjoy a moment of post sex bliss before the regret came flooding in.

"Missed ya," he whispered, pressing a kiss into her hair as he breathed in the smell of sugar and vanilla that always seemed to cling to her long dark hair. "Why don'tcha let me pick you up this weekend. We can go fer a ride, I'll take ya out fer a nice dinner…"

River let out a heavy sigh. Well this was nice while it lasted, she thought. "Merle," she chided, "...I can't do that. You know I can't." Sleeping with him was one thing. But actually letting him back into her life was something else. Merle was like a human tornado of chaos. Every time she built her life back up from his destruction, he would show back up and destroy everything all over again. River slid her body across the bed, ignoring the wobbly feeling in her thighs as she retrieved her clothes from the floor.

"So that's how it is?," Merle huffed. His moods were always unpredictable. But River could hear the hint of anger rising in his tone. She increased the speed of her movements, trying to get her clothes on as fast as she could. "I'm good enough fer you ta fuck, but not good enough ta have a fuckin' meal with?," Merle accused. "Since ya stopped dancin', now yer too good fer the likes of me?"

River jerked her tank top down over her head. "It's not like that," she insisted.

"What the fuck is it like then, River?," Merle barked. Thankfully, he was still reclining back on the bed, his erection jutting up from between his thighs at half mast. River knew she the smart thing to do would be to get the hell out of this dingy motel room before Merle decided to drag himself up off the bed and go around round with her. But the truth was, she felt her own anger rising. She didn't appreciate Merle's rude accusations. And she sure enough didn't appreciate him refusing to take any responsibility for his recent bad behavior.

"Ya broke into my house and fuckin' robbed me a few weeks ago!," she hissed. "Yer lucky I'm even willing ta speak to ya after that bullshit!"

"I just paid ya back fer that!," Merle argued.

"That doesn't make it okay!," River hollered back. Their voices were rising as they continued to argue back and forth, not that anyone in the motel was going to do anything about it. This was definitely a mind your own business type of establishment. The color was rising in River's cheeks. And she was angry enough that she didn't move away from the side of the bed. Not even when Merle swung himself off the bed and grabbed her by the arms.

"Yer seein' someone else," he accused, moving so close to her face when he spoke that she could feel his breath.

"Maybe I am," she taunted, cringing when Merle's grip on her arms tightened and began to pinch.

"Ya think yer gonna find some fuckin' schmuck that wants ta play house with ya?," Merle hissed. "Yer never gonna be more than a piece of ass ta any man besides me. Just a little whore fer them ta play with and toss out like garbage…"

River jerked her right arm from Merle's grip and swung, smacking him hard across his face. Then she shoved him, slamming her palms against his chest. He laughed as he stumbled back a step. And River could still hear his laughter behind her as she grabbed her purse and darted out the door. River fled down the steps, fumbling with her keys as she tried to open her car door as fast as she could. She lept behind the wheel and fired up the engine, slamming it in reverse and gassing it out of the parking lot. By the time she hit the main road, there were tears streaming down her face to wet the low cut neckline of her tank top.