by Faye Byrd
“Here you are,” I say as I hand her the bag. “You should see improvement in his condition by the morning. If not, please don’t hesitate to return tomorrow afternoon.”
“Dr. Cole, you’ve been amazing,” she says, lifting her little guy off the table. “I’d have never been able to afford this visit anywhere else.”
“That’s why I’m here, Mrs. Martin.” I offer her an encouraging smile. “I think all families should have access to affordable veterinary care.”
“You’re an angel.” She hugs the little puppy closer and smiles before making her way toward the front desk.
I take only a minute to imagine her children’s happiness at seeing their puppy on the mend before I get back to caring for more pets. My morning is busy, filled with animal after animal, and I’m thankful. With the sliding scale, the more patients I see, the longer my business sustains itself.
Veterinary care is reserved for the comfortable, those who don’t have to choose between their pets and their groceries. The practice itself is lucrative, providing large homes and expensive cars for those who follow its path. Having a prosperous career is important for everyone, including me, but I also wanted to make a difference, which is why I opened my business in a blue-collar neighborhood not even six months ago.
My model isn’t perfect, and it may never be repeated elsewhere, but it provides me a comfortable living while allowing me to help those whose pets might otherwise die from the inability to pay the bill. In many cases, like with the Lab puppy, all that’s needed is a quick test and the medication to make them better.
“The last patient just left,” Elle, my receptionist and college friend, says, peeking into my office. “I’m headed to lunch. Need anything?”
I wave her away. “Nah, I brought a peanut butter sandwich and chips. You go ahead.”
“Are you sure?” Her face scrunches. “That doesn’t sound very appetizing.”
I huff a laugh at her expression. “It does to me. I love peanut butter.”
“If you insist,” she says skeptically. “I’ll lock up behind me.”
“Thanks,” I call, but she’s already heading up the hallway.
I sigh as I look at the clutter around me. Constantly seeing patients doesn’t give me much time for anything else. My office is a disaster, with files strewn everywhere and an overflowing trash bin. I shake my head at myself and stand, snatching the bag from the can and picking up all the overflow littering the floor around it. I mumble the whole time, chastising myself for letting it get this bad to begin with.
Once I’ve tidied up, I prop the bag in the hall while I go to check the bins at the front desk and waiting areas. Both are relatively empty, so I leave them be and grab my bag as I pass on the way to the back exit of the practice. The large metal door is heavy, so after releasing the latch, I push my shoulder against it and give it a hard shove—only something causes me to freeze.
With the door halfway open, I’m in the perfect position to see a couple across the alley. The man’s pants are around his ankles as he fucks the woman from behind. His fingers dig into her hips, and she springs back and forth from the power of his thrusts. I want to back away, to leave them as much privacy as an open alley allows, but I’m frozen.
Their brazen actions are both shameless and a turn-on at the same time. His grunts and groans echo off the brick and collect in my abdomen, sending pulses of want flickering through me. For a brief few seconds, I yearn to be taken so boldly, to be turned on so thoroughly that I could ignore my surroundings and just feel.
“Fuck, yeah, baby!” he suddenly says, delivering a blistering slap to her bare ass.
I can feel the sting.
Another slap and my thighs clench.
By the third one, my heated breaths are fogging up the metal door, so I close my eyes to break the connection.
“You like me pounding that pussy?” His low, gritty voice sucks me back in. “So fucking good,” he growls, angling his head so I can see his profile for the first time.
His dirty-blond hair is sheared close on the sides while the top’s in utter disarray. Wild and carefree, it bounces with every thrust. His colorful neck muscles are flexed, and his jaw is clenched tight. His eyes are open yet not focused on the half-naked woman. They’re locked on the wall above her head, staring intensely, almost as if he’s counting the bricks.
He snaps from his stupor and shifts their position by pushing her flat against the wall and shoving her face against the brick. He doesn’t lose pace as he aligns his chest to her back. Each thrust lifts her feet from beneath her and is accompanied by a heady moan.
“Come for me!” he roars, shoving his arm around her waist and lifting her over and over to match his pace. “Now!”
Her body’s practically limp as he guides her to completion. “Oh, God,” she gasps, slapping her hand against the wall.
I watch in breathless anticipation.
Her shuddering is visible as her mewls and pants become incoherent. He’s draining every last drop of satisfaction from her body, and I have to forcefully stop my own hand from trailing downward. He slams into her roughly and stills, releasing a final grunt.
In the silence that follows, shame rockets through me as I realize my predicament. I’m standing in a half-open doorway, slightly diagonal from their position, with my hands clenched tightly together to hold them in place. I’ve just spied on a couple in their most intimate moment when I could’ve easily backed away.
I gather my wits, chastising myself, and slowly start retreating. I pray the door doesn’t make a sound that will give me away, but his cold voice stops me in my tracks. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
My eyes jump back to them, and I’m surprised at what I see. He’s leaned casually against the wall, but his face is fierce as he holds her wrist. She meets him with a challenging glare for only a moment before her shoulders slump and she withdraws her hand.
He shoves a cigarette between his lips and shakes his head. “You know how this goes,” he says, digging a lighter from his pocket. “So I suggest if you want it to happen again, you’ll keep playing your role.”
“Somebody fucked you up good,” she says, turning to stomp out of my line of vision.
He flicks open a silver lighter and takes a deep pull from the cancer stick before chuckling on the exhale. It’s derisive, scornful. “If only you knew,” he mutters, even though the woman is no longer in the alley.
I’m conflicted as I work to rationalize what I just witnessed. What began as the hottest thing I’ve ever seen has left me feeling pity for a man I know nothing about. To witness an experience like that end in such a cold manner leaves me contemplating only two options. His demons are larger than life, or he’s a straight-up asshole. Either one makes me sad.
What a waste.
Feeling scorn, I square my shoulders and grab the bag at my side, shoving the door the rest of the way open. It doesn’t whine or creak, but his eyes jump to me anyway. He’s pulled a hood over his head, and thick gray smoke surrounds him like a hazy fog. I refuse to acknowledge him, but I can feel his stare as I march toward the large green dumpster. Tossing the bag inside, I pause and take several deep breaths to center myself before turning around.
There’s only a smoldering butt to signify he was ever there at all.
I’m relieved and affronted at the same time. The whole encounter has left me unsettled, rattled in a way I’ve never been. My actions during, coupled with the way the scene unfolded afterward, leaves me conflicted over my guilt. Should the fact they weren’t a couple ease my voyeuristic mind, or should the aftermath repulse me so completely I regret ever being turned on?
“Alyssa?” Elle’s voice snaps me from my thoughts, and I realize I’ve yet to move away from the dumpster. “Girl, what are you doing out here?”
“Pfft.” I wave it away as I start moving toward her. “My office was a wreck, so I started by taking out the trash.”
“I’ve offered to do it for you, but you told
me not to worry,” she says, holding the door open for me to step inside. “It’s not a problem.”
“You already have enough to do,” I respond, looking at my watch. “Shit! It’s already time to reopen.”
“I know,” she says, giving me the side-eye. “That’s why I was looking for you. Did you even get to eat?”
“Sure thing,” I lie, schooling my face. “I did that first.”
She studies me before conceding with a nod. “If you say so. I’ll go unlock the doors.”
“That’d be great!” My voice is too happy, but she thankfully ignores it and heads up the hall.
I watch her until she’s rounded the corner before turning back to latch the door. When it’s locked up tight, I lift to my tiptoes to peer out the small rectangular window. The alley is still empty, yet I can’t help but dwell on the things I witnessed out there.
The images flash through my mind as if on a loop for the rest of the day, and they plague me in my dreams. I jerk awake, drenched in sweat and so close to orgasm that I have no choice but to suffer or push myself over the edge.
Slipping my fingers inside my panties, I recall the slap to her ass and how it made me burn. His throaty grunts. Powerful thrusts. The determination to wring every last drop of satisfaction from her body. His rough, gritty voice as he commanded her to come. My pace quickens as the edge looms closer, and small ripples of pleasure cascade over me, building, building, building until the tension releases, and I explode as wave after wave of bliss rockets through me.
As my high recedes, confliction fills the empty space, and I decide a call to Justin is in order.
I need to get laid.
CHAPTER THREE
Spiraling
RUSH
The bright sunlight burns my eyelids as I drift into awareness, prompting me to burrow beneath the pillows. My head is pounding with memories of last night’s debauchery, and my mouth fucking tastes like ass, but at least it’s enough to urge me from the bed—to live another day.
The blender, a constant bar-top companion, is blessedly awaiting the ingredients for my usual morning concoction. After adding the raw eggs, I wince as I hit the switch, but it doesn’t take long before the noise is comforting, another reminder that I feel something.
“Ruuuush!” I block out the sound.
“Ruuuuush, I see you in there.” Again, I ignore her, but she’s persistent. The tapping starts as she raps her knuckles against the glass doors.
“For fuck’s sake!” I slam the empty glass onto the bar and move to open the door. “What the fuck could you possibly want this early in the morning?”
“It’s after eleven, son,” she replies, flustered, motioning her hands toward me. “And go put some clothes on, for Christ’s sake.”
“What, Mother?” I question, lifting a smart-ass brow. “You don’t want to see the fruits of your labor?”
“When are you going to snap out of this, son?” She shakes her head sadly. “I’ve tried to be patient, but it’s been years.”
“Snap out of this?” I snarl, stomping away to grab the first pair of jeans I can get my hands on. “Your actions helped create this version of me!” I hurry to throw on the rest of my clothes and boots. “We all fucked up, and the ramifications aren’t just some fucking phase, Mother.” I pause as I pass her at the door. “It eats me alive every single day.”
I stalk toward my Harley, and she tries to give chase, but my strides are too long for her to keep up. I glare at her one more time as I snap my helmet in place and kick the engine to life. It rumbles between my thighs, igniting a spark of life within me. I tear out of the driveway and onto the blacktop faster than is safe, and it turns the spark into a flame. As dangerous as it is, I yearn for it to devour me.
I’m sufficiently calm after the perilous trip to my special place, somewhere no one knows I come. A part of my past I couldn’t bring myself to let go. Once a week, I stand at the counter of the homeless shelter in the next county over and do my part by making sure the needy get a healthy meal. Once a month, I send a check from my trust to help keep the center alive.
It’s late evening by the time I leave, and my mood is much better than it was when I arrived. Donating my time helps, somehow. But it’s not enough. I can feel the darkness blurring the edges of my mind, so I gun the throttle, heading to my favorite neighborhood. A couple blocks over from Rapture, I hit up The Lion’s Den to scope the selection. All the pussy here looks boring or attached—not that I refuse to fuck either—so I only sit for one beer before I head to my usual haunt.
Just stepping foot inside Rapture makes my blood hum. The bar is always filled with a ripe selection, including a repeat performance or two. They know their place, though, so I’m not bothered right away. Maybe later, if something new doesn’t pan out. I take a seat at the bar and motion for Niko to bring me a drink.
“Hey, handsome,” a blonde says as she sidles up beside me. “Buy me a drink?”
Niko immediately notices and lifts a brow. I nod, slipping him a hundred. “Whatever the lady wants, and keep ‘em coming.”
I swivel on my stool to get a good look at the prospect. Hair extensions, expanded tits, store-bought tan, fake nails, bright white teeth. She passes. I’ll fuck her. I smirk when I notice she’s measuring my assets in the same manner.
I spread my arms. “I’ll give you the ride of your life, baby.”
She giggles in that crazy way women think is cute and daintily holds out her hand. “I’m Stella.”
“Rush.” I take her hand and lean closer. “Can you feel it?” I place an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of her wrist, my tongue tracing along her thundering pulse point.
Her lashes flutter closed for a brief second before her lustful brown eyes snap to mine. “I want to feel it everywhere.”
“All in due time, Stella.” I drop her hand and push her drink over in front of her. “Let’s get this party started.”
Xanax is the drug of choice tonight, and we both pop a bar she pulls from her little clutch. I need to be careful with this type of self-medication because it can just as easily send me deeper into my own private hell, but having my target already hanging on my arm helps assure that won’t be the case.
The buzz sizzles in my veins as we sit and drink and flirt and talk about superficial things. She’s not especially bright or interesting, but she’s forward, and keeping her at arm’s length only intensifies the high. She’ll be begging to suck my cock by the time I finally give in.
“Let’s dance,” she blurts, standing and bouncing as she grabs my arm. “I love this song!”
There’re a few patrons on the floor already, and though it isn’t my preference to partake in couple-y activities, I humor her. The Xanax has made me chill but not so off guard that I’ll allow other lines to be crossed. When we reach the floor, I pull her close and start swaying us to the music. Her arms lock around my neck, and her eyes flick to my lips.
“Don’t,” I murmur, keeping my eyes on hers. “It’s not worth the sting of rejection.”
She stares at me, her head tilted slightly, before refocusing her attention to my neck. Her lips are soft, and her tongue is wet as it travels across the flames that lick up my throat. My cock pulses, and I pull her body closer so she can feel the effect she’s having.
A hard shove comes from my left, and we’re knocked apart. It takes me a second to realize it wasn’t an accident. “What the fuck is this, Stella?”
There’s a preppy-looking guy standing there, his frame tense as he towers over my score. I slam my palm into his chest and shove him back a foot. “Can’t you see the lady is busy?” I step closer. “Get lost, fuckwit.”
Niko catches my eye and tilts his head to the two bouncers who’re closing in on the guy. I smirk. “Looks like your entrance pass has been revoked.”
He bulks up, stepping closer, but before he can say or do anything, the bouncers are on each arm, prodding him away. “You’ll pay for this, you fucking piece of shit!” he shouts
as they toss him out the door.
I turn, taking her back in my arms with a sinister smile. “Now, where were we?”
“Right about here,” she says, not missing a beat.
Her lips return to my neck, and I guide our bodies to a new beat. After a couple more songs, we leave the dance floor and close out the rest of the night at the bar, slinging back shots. I’m a loopy, feel-good mess by the time I take her hand and lead her behind the bar so we can exit into the alley.
“Yo,” Niko calls before we get too far. “I’m closing up.”
Her hands are all over me, and my cock is hard as a fucking rock. “This won’t take long.”
“If it does, you’ll have to walk around,” he replies, smirking. “I got places of my own to be.”
“Fuck, yeah.” I smile, doing a little fist pump.
He rolls his eyes as I take Stella’s hand and lure her out to my den of sin. It’s late, almost two in the morning, but the heat flowing between us keeps the chill away. A streetlamp at the end of the alley provides just enough light to set the mood.
I let go of her hand and lean against the wall, slipping a smoke between my lips. “Let me see those pretty tits,” I say as the flame licks the cigarette to life. She looks unsure, nervous for the first time tonight. “Come on, baby. No one’s gonna see us. It’s just you and me out here.”
After looking both right and left, she moves her fingers to the buttons of her blouse. Her confidence grows as each one slips loose, exposing more of her braless tits. They’re nothing spectacular, as all tits are nice, but add in the sway of her hips as her fingers slip lower, and my blood rushes in my ears.
“Closer,” I rasp, blowing smoke out my nose.
She ignores my command, lost in her own little world of sensation as she tweaks her nipples, emitting soft sighs and lusty-sounding mewls. It’s an appetizing sight, but when I deliver an edict, I expect it to be followed.
Flicking the butt, I reach out and wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against me. “There’s a cost for refusing to obey.”