by Gemma Weir
I get ready in this weird floaty state, watching him from the corner of my eye as I quickly dry and style my hair while he finishes getting dressed behind me. It almost feels comfortable, until I remember that I don’t actually know him that well, at least not well enough to have this level of domesticity with him.
My ex and I were together for months and he only ever stayed over a handful of times, and in the mornings he’s just got up and left, we never brushed our teeth side by side, or got ready stealing glances at one another, he never even had a shower, just pulled on his dirty clothes and went home.
Once Huck’s dressed in his work stuff, he leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek before he leaves the room, his overnight bag in hand. I exhale a sigh of relief. I don’t like this feeling of normalcy, because nothing with him is normal. I’m not blind enough to deny whatever’s happening between us, but I’d still prefer it be casual, rather than this ‘I own you’ stuff that I find far too appealing.
Applying my makeup, I grab some clothes from my closet and get dressed, grabbing my cell that he again put on charge at the side of the bed for me. Stepping into the living room, I expect to find it empty, but instead Huck is at the stove, adding bacon I didn’t realize I had to a pan.
“You’re cooking,” I say stupidly.
“Breakfast. Coffee’s there,” he says, nodding towards the two cups on the counter.
I don’t want to admit that I thought he’d left, that feels a bit mean, especially now that I can see while I’ve been getting ready, he’s been making me food. Lifting my cup, I take a sip, humming when I realize it made exactly how I like it again. Sitting at the breakfast bar I watch as he efficiently moves around my kitchen like he knows exactly where everything is.
“Here you go,” he says a few minutes later, placing a plate with bacon, eggs and a warm croissant in front of me.
“Thank you, this looks great.”
He takes the seat next to me and we eat in slightly strained silence. My lips part as I try to decide what to say, but in the end, silence seems better than any of the odd things my mind offers me as conversation.
“Peaches, you’re making this really unnecessarily complicated,” he smiles. “Relax, it’s just breakfast.”
“It’s weird,” I confess on a rush.
“What’s weird? Eating with me?”
“You being here, cooking for me, us eating together, it’s all just weird,” I rush out.
“Maybe weird is just the prelude to awesome,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to my cheek as he stands, lifting both of our empty plates and loading them into the dishwasher. “Get your stuff, baby, I’ll drop you at the shop on my way to work.”
I try to find an argument about why he’s wrong, but nothing comes to mind, so instead I walk into the bathroom, open the cabinet above the sink and reach for my pills, but the shelf is empty. Shuffling the bottles and things about, I search for the small packet of pills, but they’re nowhere to be found.
I took my pill yesterday, didn’t I? I think I did, it’s just part of my routine, breakfast, pill, perfume, then out the door. So I must have taken it. Maybe it was the last one in the packet? But that’s not right, because I just had my period last week so it was a brand new packet. Shaking my head, I close the cabinet door and pad back into the kitchen, opening the cabinet that I keep all my medication and first aid stuff in and pull another pill packet from the larger box I keep in there, glad that the pharmacist gave me six months’ worth this time.
“You okay?” Huck asks.
“Yeah, I just can’t find my pills, I keep them in the bathroom cabinet and I swear it was a virtually brand-new packet.”
“You want me to go look for you? I lose stuff all the time, then the moment I ask one of my brothers if they’ve seen them, they find them in the place I’ve already looked before.”
“Would you mind? I keep them on the top shelf normally.”
“Sure,” he says, disappearing into my room. “Sorry, Peaches, I can’t see them either, could you have put them in your purse or something?”
“I have no idea, it’s gonna drive me mad if I don’t find them though,” I say, biting at my bottom lip as I try to force my brain to remember what I did with them.
Taking the new packet from my hands, Huck pops me a pill out, handing it to me. “I’ll go put these back in the bathroom, then at least we know where they are,” he laughs.
Pushing the tiny pill into my mouth, I swallow it with the last of my coffee, smiling at how unexpectedly sweet he is. “Thank you,” I call, as he heads for the bathroom.
Sliding my feet into my shoes, I can’t help the smile that tips at the corner of my mouth when his arms encircle me from behind. “Did I tell you how sexy you look today yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Peaches, you look fucking delicious,” he coos, grinding his dick into my ass and showing me with the bulge hiding in his pants exactly how good he thinks I look. “This skirt…”
“Thanks,” I smile, glancing down at my cute plaid skater skirt, pantyhose, socks and boots combo.
“Come on, we gotta go or I’m gonna need to be in you, and I’ve already taken too much the last few days.”
The words ‘it’s never too much’ are on my lips, but I swallow them down. I am sore, but in the most delicious way. I’m not in pain, but I can feel the tenderness from where he’s fucked me hard and fast and rough the last couple of days with every step. Promising myself a soak in the tub later, I grab my purse, checking I have my cell and the shop keys, I open the door and wait for him to leave. Instead, he presses his hand on the door above me, holding it open while I step out into the hallway and he follows me, closing the door behind me and checking the handle to make sure it’s locked.
Stepping ahead of him, I move towards the elevator, but he catches up with me, curling his hand around the back of my neck, softly rubbing his thumb up and down over my skin. When I don’t move, he reaches forward and presses the button, calling the elevator, and we stand in silence while he holds me oh so gently in this incredibly possessive and controlling way.
The way he’s touching me right now feels like it describes him perfectly. Soft and gentle, but dominant and possessive, Huck is a contradiction in terms and with every new thing I discover about him, the more drawn to him I feel, and for more than just sex.
If this were just a fling, I’d cope, but the more time I’m around him the more lured into his web I feel. He’s the spider, I’m the fly, but he doesn’t just want to eat me, he wants to devour me.
The elevator dings, heralding its arrival, and the doors slowly open revealing Darren, the guy I met the other day, the one I was kind of flirting with until I saw Huck at my door and all thoughts of anyone but him fell to the wayside.
Darren smiles when he sees me, but it falls away pretty quickly when he notices Huck’s hold on me and the way he guides me into the elevator and immediately pulls me close into him. He’s not touching me anywhere but his palm on the back of my neck, but even without words he manages to broadcast to Darren and anyone else in the vicinity that I am taken. It’s as sexy as it is infuriating.
No one speaks as the doors slide closed. As the elevator starts to descend, I wish for time to move quicker, until my prayers are answered and we finally stop and the doors open again. “Have a good day,” Darren says, glancing between me and Huck, before he steps out and strides across the lobby.
“He wants you,” Huck growls, his grip on my neck tightening for a moment, before he loosens it again.
“Maybe,” I shrug.
“He can’t have you.”
“Maybe,” I shrug again, feeling a sense of power fill me.
I’m spun in Huck’s arms, caged against a wall before I even have time to process that we’ve moved. His hand forces it’s way between my legs, cupping my pussy and grinding the heel against my clit. “No fucking maybe about it, Peaches. He. Can’t. Fucking. Have. You. And if he tries, I’ll fucking kill him,” he hisses
angrily, his jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with barely restrained fury. “This cunt belongs to me now; you need to fucking remember that.”
I wish I could help it, but my body reacts to him without my permission, arousal gushing from me as a desperate whimper falls from my lips.
His fingers rip through the thin netting of my tights and he roughly pushes my panties to the side, shoving two fingers into me, filling me and making me gasp and push onto my toes to deal with the sudden claiming invasion.
He pumps in and out of me, which has me panting and frantically gripping his arms in seconds.
“You don’t get to come, Peaches, I’m pissed at you and I want you to feel this dissatisfaction all day. Remember that I fucking own this cunt. Your tits, your mouth, your cunt, your ass, they all belong to me now, and I won’t fucking tolerate you allowing anyone else to even think they have a chance at touching them, just like I expect you not to tolerate anyone thinking they get to touch what’s yours either.”
“So your dick’s mine, these fingers, your tongue, your mouth?” I pant.
“All fucking yours.” He grunts, pulling his fingers out of me and leaving me feeling empty and bereft.
“Huck,” I whine.
“Don’t fucking start, baby, you caused this,” he snarls, pulling my panties back into place and lifting his hand from between my legs, sucking his fingers into his mouth and cleaning my arousal off them, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I hate you,” I snap, smoothing my skirt down and turning away from him.
“Liar,” he rasps against my ear, palming my neck and squeezing just enough for me to feel his possession. “Let’s go or I’m gonna be late for work.”
Sighing angrily, I push his hand off my neck and stomp towards the lobby door, twisting the lock open and marching out onto the sidewalk, each step full of sexually frustrated anger. How I can be sexually frustrated considering how much sex I’ve had in the last few days I have no idea, but I am and it’s all his fault.
“See you later,” I call, walking away from the building, intent on ignoring him and walking to work.
“Don’t start with me, Cora, I’m hard as a fucking rock, I’m pissed and I’m gonna be late if I have to chase your ass down.”
“I’m pissed at you too, Huck, so you do you and I’ll do me.”
“Get in the fucking car or I swear to god I’ll pull down your fucking panties right here in the street and spank your ass until I’m good and calm.”
“Are you seriously threatening to spank me,” I say on an outraged laugh.
“According to Beau it gets all the sass and spit out of Bonnie, I’m willing to give it a go and see if it works on you too,” he says far too seriously.
“It’s foreplay to them you idiot,” I shout.
“Call it whatever the fuck you want, I’ll still take you over my knee until you’re begging me to stop and promising to behave.”
My stomach tightens and my core clenches in unexpected arousal. I refuse to be turned on by the idea of him spanking me, even though I have been intrigued by the idea ever since Bonnie told me that it makes both her and Beau hot when they do it.
“You’re an asshole,” I spit, stomping back over to the car he’s standing by, crossing my arms over my chest.
A wide smile spreads across his lips and I fight not to smile back at him. “All this because I didn’t make you come.”
“Just open the fucking door.”
The lock clicks open and I climb in, pulling on my seatbelt then recrossing my arms, pointedly ignoring him. I hear him get in and close the door, but I refuse to look at him, or speak when I’m this annoyed.
I swear I’m not usually petulant, and I have never in my life behaved like this because I was denied an orgasm. Hell, with Mitchell, I expected to be left unsatisfied, so I genuinely have no idea why the hell I’m being such a brat now.
We pull away from the curb, and even without looking in his direction I know he’s looking at me. “You always this bratty, or am I bringing out the worst in you today?” he asks, amusement lacing his tone.
Ignoring him, I turn my head and watch as main street moves past us as he drives towards the store.
“Peaches, I asked you a fucking question.”
I continue to ignore him, waiting for the car to slow at the curb so I can escape him, my thumb poised over the seatbelt release button. When we slow down outside my store, I unclip the belt and grab for the handle, but the locks click on, locking me in the car the moment my fingers begin to pull. “Open the door,” I say, not looking in his direction.
“Look at me.”
Huffing out a breath, I ignore him, snatching at the handle even though I know the door won’t open.
“Turn your ass around and look at me, Peaches, you aren’t going anywhere until you do.”
Scowling, I turn in my seat and glare at him, noting that all of his amusement from earlier is gone. “You behaving like this because I won’t let you come?”
“I’m just ready to go to work and have a little breathing space.”
“That’s not what I asked you, is it?”
“Yes okay. Yes, I’m pissed that you’ve left me hanging, alright. I have had a litany of selfish, asshole ex’s who didn’t care if they left me unsatisfied, or had no idea that I hadn’t come. But you left me feeling like this deliberately and I hate that,” I confess on a rush, the words bursting from me.
He exhales and his shoulders slump, like the angry was just expelled from him as easily as that. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” I question.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to keep you on edge, I wanted you to feel my possession, my ownership. I wanted you understand the sense of proprietary I feel for you. I wanted to make you understand how crazy it makes me feel to think about someone else wanting you and you not hating that idea. I know this is all fucking quick and intense, but I also know you’re in this as deep as I am, I can see it, even if you can’t admit it or tell me yet. But I never… Never, want to make you feel like I’m doing something to deliberately hurt you.”
Unlocking the locks, he climbs out and rounds the car, opening my door and helping me out. Taking the keys to the shop from me, he finds the right key and opens the door, waiting while I disable the alarm before he leads me across to the counter and leads us both behind it. He positions me facing the door, my hands on the wooden surface as he parts my legs and sinks to the floor behind me.
Pulling my panties aside, his tongue finds my slit and my knees buckle as he runs the flat of his tongue through my folds, lapping at me like I’m his favourite ice cream and he doesn’t want to lose a drop of the sweet cream.
Curling my fingers over the edge of the counter I keep myself upright through sheer will and determination as he pushes me through first one, then two orgasms, using his fingers and tongue to drive me to completion, until I’m slumped forward over the counter, my chest heaving with panting breaths.
“Better?”
“Much,” I say, my voice raspy.
“I wish I could stay, but I’ve got to go. We good now?” he asks, sounding almost a little worried.
“So good,” I nod.
Chuckling, he hugs me from behind, burying his face into the crook of my neck and inhaling deeply. “You smell like sex and me, it’s fucking perfect. Tell me you’re mine, baby, I need to hear it.”
I pause, knowing that I shouldn’t encourage him, even though I really want to. “I’m yours,” I whisper.
“All mine. I own you, you own me,” he sighs into my neck.
“You know this is stupid quick, right? I wanted a good fuck, how the hell did we end up here?”
“Because this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.”
Pressing a soft kiss to my neck, he releases me and circles the counter, leaning over the front of it to claim my mouth in a hard, but gentle kiss. “Bye,” I whisper.
“Remember who you belong to. I’ll still fucking maim anyone who thinks they can take
you from me. See you later, Peaches.”
Then he leaves and I watch him go, wondering how he managed to turn my life so upside down in such a short space of time and why I like it so much.
12
Huck
I can smell her on my lips, and fingers, the scent driving me mad as I pull away from the sidewalk and head back up the mountain. I pass Beau’s truck still parked outside the coffee shop, and I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s going to be late this morning. But can you be truly late if you’re there before the boss?
Cora has me wound so tight I’m agitated, which I shouldn’t be, considering I’ve been fucking her like it’s the end of the world for the last few days. I have never felt this way about a woman, never had this intense feeling of ownership. My mama would slap me up the side of the head if she ever heard me saying I owned a woman, but I don’t care, Cora is mine and I feel it down to my fucking core.
This possession, this basic need for her scares the shit out of me, because I know I’m forcing this on her and I’m not even sure she really wants it. She likes me, she wants to fuck me, but she’s not ready for a serious relationship, marriage and babies, but I just don’t care.
The only way to stop myself from going after her would be to walk away from her, cut all ties and try to pretend she doesn’t exist, but now I know she’s mine I just can’t do that, I won’t do it. My dad sat all of us boys down when we were younger and told us how the first time he saw our mama, he knew she was his. He told us it hit him like a mac truck and from that moment on his life revolved around her. Until Cora, I thought it was bullshit. Now, it makes perfect sense.
I know if I give her time she’ll throw herself into this just as deep as I am, but I’m not a patient man. I won’t give her up, I won’t give her space, I won’t give her an inch, so I’m forcing the future to jump up and meet us.
A wave of guilt rises up, but I push it back down as I remember popping the tiny sugar pill out of the packet, knowing I was giving her one of the fake pills, the ones the manufactures put in the packet so you never stop taking a daily dose even while you’re on your period. One of my regulars told me about them when I asked her to show me her birth control.