Every Second Counts

by Arya Grey

  "Brody…" Faye said.

  He turned to her and smiled. "Don't worry, I got this."

  Ah, fuck. Faye stepped out of the taxi at the same time as Brody, not that she was entirely sure what she would do. In giant heels and a tiny dress there wasn't much she could do.

  "You shouldn't have said that. I don't take lightly to threats." Timothy's fists were bobbing in front of his face and he circled a very still—and seemingly amused—Brody.

  "You shouldn't speak about my friend like that."

  "What does a stupid bitch like her—" Timothy's rant had been shortened by Brody's fist. He was so fast that Faye hadn't seen him lift a finger, only Timothy hitting the ground like a sack of shit.

  Brody took his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and threw some money to the ground. "For the ride," he said. He turned to Faye and held his hand out to her. "C'mon, babe. We can walk from here."

  ****

  They walked close to a mile and Faye might've been upset at having to travel so far in such big heels, but her mind was already occupied. Why had he reacted so quickly when he barely knows me? He told that guy his name and then knocked him out. Why? Shit, Faye…does it really matter? He stuck up for you when some asshole was a sexist pig. Does that give you the right to question his motives? Maybe…

  "We're here," he said. Faye thought the moment would never come and she sighed in relief, but it caught in her throat when she looked up at the house. If she'd been paying attention during their walk she might have noticed that they were in the old part of downtown Phoenix.

  "You live in the Willow District?" Faye asked.

  "Yeah. My family has lived in the same house for almost two hundred years."

  "You live with your family?"

  "No." Brody's response had been short and his body stiff in defense.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to snoop. The house is beautiful." And it was. A small garden opened out to the red brick path that matched the first floor of the Victorian house and brought you beneath the white posted porch. Faye noted the swinging loveseat to the left of the front door and remembered how much she loved them as a child.

  Brody took Faye's hand once more and led her into the house.

  She didn't know it was possible, but the interior of the old home was more incredible than the exterior. It was an antique fan's wet dream, with every stick of furniture a smooth cherry oak and at least a hundred years old. "Holy shit. Raven would die if she ever came in here."

  "Oh yeah? Why's that?" Brody asked as he walked into the open plan kitchen, flicking light switches as he passed.

  Faye followed slowly behind, her eyes diving over every inch of the incredible place. "We both have a thing for antique furniture. Is it really just you, here? The place looks massive."

  "It's pretty big." Brody had dodged Faye's question altogether.

  She didn't press further but knew there was something to his sudden defensive behavior. Family problems; something I know a thing or two about. Best left alone.

  "Would you like a beer?" he asked.

  "Sure," Faye responded. Wait, you don't need more alcohol. What time is it? Two AM. Great! My clients will really appreciate me with boozy breath and a killer attitude.

  Brody placed the top of the green bottle at the edge of the kitchen counter and with the palm of his hand he slammed down on the cap, opening it. He handed it to Faye and did the same for a second bottle. He gulped down almost half the beer in one go before stepping over to an old record player.

  Faye followed, her gaze now on him as he bent.

  He moved the needle across the record that was already inserted and stood. "Do you like The Cramps?"

  "You're kidding, right?" Faye asked, almost laughing. "You do realise they call me Lux at the shop?"

  "No, I didn't." Brody put his bottle on the coffee table then took Faye's and placed it next to his. "Why's that?"

  "Because almost fifty percent of my ink is Cramps related. I've loved them since infanthood." Faye's voice had become a mere whisper as Brody stepped closer and closer, his hands wrapping tightly around her waist.

  "Is your whole body covered?" he asked. His eyes dropped to her chest, and down her arms as he lifted them to see her tattoos.

  "Almost," she replied.

  "Can I see?" His fingers traced lightly across her skin to her collarbone.

  Faye nodded and guided one of his hands to the zip at the back of her dress.

  He pulled it down and ran his hand across her back.

  The lace slipped from her shoulders as she leaned forward to press her lips at his neck.

  He pressed the dress down and Faye stepped out of it. She nipped her teeth at his skin, but only lightly.

  His touch rounded the cheeks of her ass, before swiping up to her breasts. He pushed them against his chest, took a handful of her hair and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was fast, desperate.

  Faye felt as if she couldn't get close enough to him, even though the next step would be to jump inside his skin. Their tongues clashed and almost fought as Faye wrapped her legs around Brody's waist, with his help. He started to walk, where to Faye didn't know, nor care.

  Cold, hard wall slammed into her back and knocked the very breath from her lungs. She tilted her head, allowing Brody full access as he made a trail of bites across her exposed flesh. Excitement pooled between her legs and every nip sent a wave of ecstasy so strong her groans grew more frequent.

  He ripped the straps of her bra down her arms and freed her breasts from the restriction of wire and satin. He cupped them in his hands, propping her weight against the wall, and pressed his lips around one of her nipples. Teeth grazed.

  It peaked inside his mouth and Faye took hold of his head, pushing him further into her. "Fuck, baby," she breathed. "I need you so bad."

  "Then have me," he said, hot breath fanning across her nipple.

  Faye brought his head back up for another kiss, this time she slowed the pace. Took the time to explore with both her tongue and her hands. She gathered his shirt in her hands, worked it from beneath her legs, and pulled it over his head, breaking the kiss for only a moment.

  Brody pushed harder into her, his hand spread through one of hers and pulled it up the wall, above her head.

  The soft, sensuous beat of Faye's favorite Cramps song, I Can't Hardly Stand It, played further havoc on her senses. Her hips rolled to the music, her passion heating to a volcanic level. She took a handful of his short hair in her fist and gripped tightly.

  "If you don't fuck me now, I might explode." She couldn't believe the words coming from her mouth. She'd never been so openly truthful, especially not during something so intimate.

  Brody reached into his pocket and placed a gold foil square between his teeth, while he undid his zip.

  Faye took the wrapped condom from his mouth and ripped the foil open.

  Brody took it from her and dropped his hand between her legs. The hairs of his forearm brushed lightly against Faye's inner thigh and she bit her lip to hold back another groan.

  His fingers tapped alongside her buttocks and gripped her panties. Knuckles brushed against her clit, her wetness now coated on his hand, and he ripped the underwear clean off.

  There goes that matching set!

  He worked her juices across the folds of her pussy, grunting and growling as he kept hold of her hand above.

  Her muscles clenched in anticipation. The walls of her mind were consumed by the man between her legs.

  He pushed her hips down and his cock slipped inside. He filled her to the hilt and Faye's stomach jumped and fluttered. Brody bent his head to the wall, right next to hers. "Fuck, you're so tight." He groaned, sliding out slowly then slammed right back into her.

  Faye squealed and her nails pressed deep into his shoulder.

  Sweat trickled down Brody's forehead, landing on Faye's shoulder.

  "Couch," she said.

  He lifted his head suddenly and pushed them both from the wall, wrapping his
hands around her legs. He turned.

  Faye clenched the muscles of her cunt around him as he walked and kissed his neck.

  Carefully he dipped down and placed her along the loveseat. She wrapped her left leg around the back and spread the other out. Brody locked his knees at her ass and picked her hips up, thrusting his dick in with better ease this time.

  Climax was creeping up on Faye. She looked up at Brody, whose gaze was already on her. He seemed to stare through to her soul and it was that moment that she let go. She screamed, tipping her head back, and pressed her knees into his ribs.

  He slowed and dropped his weight down to her. "Did you go, baby?" he asked.

  "Y—yeah…" Her heartbeat rang loud and clear in her ears and throbbed in her chest.

  "Round two?" He whispered the question in her ear. His teeth grazed over the lobe before taking it between his lips.

  "All fucking night," Faye said. "I'm yours all night long."

  Chapter Four

  Water…dear God, I need water!

  Faye woke with a start. She peeled her eyes open and the world tipped sideways. Her mouth was as dry as a coyote's ass. So much so she'd been dreaming of water. When her vision cleared a little, it hit her where she was. Brody.

  Grabbing the sheets and thrusting them up to her neck, she turned to see if he was sleeping next to her. But the other side was empty, cold even. Taking the sheet with her, Faye stood. She wobbled a bit but managed to keep her balance when she used the wall as an aid. Straight line, Faye, straight line.

  She tiptoed in the dark, one hand out to feel for walls and other obstructions, the other bunching the sheet around her naked body. She came out of the bedroom, tiptoed down the hallway, and found herself at the top of a stairway. Shit, stairs? God help me if I make it down these alive.

  Faye held onto the handrail as if her life depended on it—because it kind of did. One step at a time, she descended the stairs and somehow managed to make it all the way to the bottom without falling or throwing up. Seemingly impossible mission, achieved.

  Triiiing

  "My phone!" Faye ran toward the flashing light, like a cat high on catnip. She tipped forward and slid across the floor, smacking her knees and elbows into the wood. For a moment she lay where she fell, groaning into her arms. Dammit, you idiot. All that crap on the stairs, and in a moment that's gone?

  "Faye?" Brody's voice spoke, but she didn't know where from.

  "Yeah," she said.

  "You alright?" he asked. He came into view, bending to see her. He took her phone in his hand and held it out to her.

  "I'm fine. Or I'll be fine anyway." She stood, with Brody's help, and readjusted the sheet before taking her phone. "What're you doing up?"

  "Couldn't sleep."

  "Oh." Faye wiped her mouth and remembered the original mission she was on before she’d landed face first in front of Brody. "Could I get some water? That bourbon has left me high and dry."

  "Of course," he said.

  He walked to the kitchen and Faye shuffled close behind, concentrating on every step so as not to repeat herself. She sat on a stool at the breakfast bar and watched as he poured filtered water in an ice-filled tumbler. In the light his eyes looked heavy and a little red.

  "You asked me if I was okay," Faye said. She accepted the water and took a much needed gulp before continuing. "But are you alright? You seem a little—"

  "I'm fine." His words were snapped towards her.

  Faye swallowed her breath, a little taken aback. "Okay, I know I've only just met you, but even I can tell that you're not fine. You don't have to talk about it, but it doesn't mean you can speak to me like that. I was only trying to help." Faye turned in the chair, cup in hand, prepared to leave when he grabbed her hand.

  "Don't go. I'm sorry, Faye." His eyes were glossed with unshed tears.

  Faye slipped back onto the seat and dropped the cup on the counter to take his hand properly. "You don't need to apologize. It probably looked like I was prying. I just know it helps to talk, even to a complete stranger like me."

  "You're not a stranger," he said. He took his hand and cupped her face. "I know you and you see me. It's in your eyes. You have love for me already, as I do you. I can't think of any reason that could tear me away from you now that I have you."

  "You don't mean any of this. That's the alcohol talking," Faye said, shaking her head.

  But he held it firmly in place, forcing her to look up at him. "I mean every word. You ease this ever-burning pain I have in my chest that eats away at my soul, day-by-day. One smile from you and it's as if it never existed."

  "Then I'll never stop smiling," she said.

  He leaned in and pressed his face against hers. The kiss was slow; his lips parted and for a moment they breathed each other's air.

  Faye traced the back of her hand against his face, his stubble sharp on her skin.

  "I have court. In two weeks," he said.

  Faye pulled back. "Court? For what?"

  Brody sat on the stool next to her and buried his face between the palms of his hands. He curled his fingers and growled in frustration.

  Faye didn't know what to do. She timidly placed her hand on his thigh and when he didn't tense up, she squeezed. She didn't speak, instead waited for him to feel comfortable enough to.

  "Four years ago my parents were murdered." He finally spoke.

  The words created a jawbreaker sized lump in Faye's throat. My God…

  He continued. "I was in my own apartment, my sister out with her friends. He came in through one of the front windows, shot my dad on sight…" He rubbed a clenched fist at his nose. "Raped my mother before taking her life, too."

  "I…I don't know what to say," Faye whispered the words. Fresh tears were streaming from her eyes now and a shiver crawled down her spine.

  "My sister found them. I got the call at five in the morning. She was hysterical. I couldn't make out a word…" He turned his head, his face scrunched. He didn't wipe his tears; instead he let them fall freely. "They're gone, she said. Dead." He slammed a fist down, causing the cup of water to jump. "We're finally going to get the verdict. After four excruciating years, it'll all be over. And I'm not sure I can do it without you."

  "I—"

  "It's a lot to ask, I know." Brody turned to her. "I know you have the shop and I know we've just met, but one night is enough to know. Denying what I feel inside would be foolish, especially when I see it in you, too."

  "It's not a lot to ask. Of course I'll be there." Faye smiled. "If only I could see my phone screen to write Jackson a text because there's no way I can tattoo anyone tomorrow." She scrunched one eye and stared at her phone, determination her new mission. She couldn't say no to Brody. There was no way possible to even imagine an ounce of what he must be going through. She ached for him and would take his devastation ten fold if it would help. But somehow she knew deep down that it wouldn't. She was there to show him happiness. That life really wasn't all bad.

  ****

  Faye woke in the morning to a much more pleasant feeling in her gut. Away was the sickening drunk sensation and in its place was unadulterated and real love; and hunger for the bacon she could smell from the kitchen.

  The bed was yet again empty, but not cold. He must have risen only a few moments before her.

  Faye stretched her body, twisting and groaning, and stared at the glistening sunrays that streamed across the sheets. So, this is what it feels like, huh? No wonder people in relationships never shut up about it. If it's real then you'll never find a comfort quite like it.

  She checked her phone and saw that Jackson had replied to her text. It read, "Ok, will call clients in the AM. Take care, drunky. xo"

  "Drunky?" Faye checked the message she'd sent him and shook her head and laughed. The words she hadn't jumbled completely had been changed by the oh-so-wonderful predictive auto-correct text function. It was a miracle Jackson understood what she meant. She quickly sent one back, apologizing for the late night
text and giving him instructions to book the two clients in whenever and wherever they wanted. After clicking send she peeled herself from the bed, sheet gathered around her once more, and headed downstairs.

  She watched Brody buzz around the kitchen, preparing a number of different things. He hadn't noticed her presence yet. She admired his shirtless torso, the muscles defined to perfection.

  He turned, a stick of butter in his hand, and nearly slipped when he saw Faye. "Shit, babe, you scared me."

  "Sorry," Faye said. She sat down at the bar and sipped some orange juice that was already in a glass next to the empty plate and silverware he'd laid out. "So, you cook, huh?"

  "Breakfast is easy." He flipped a pancake with precision and grace. Faye almost laughed. "Anyone can cook breakfast."

  "That is so not true. My dad can murder a breakfast, not cook it." She almost swallowed her tongue as she said the words; too late to retract them. Of all words to use, you pick murder?

  "I'd like to meet your dad one day," he said, taking no notice of what choice of words she applied.

  "I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

  Brody laughed. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

  "He's protective of me. He'll grill you until you break. I should apologize now, actually."

  "He'll be grilling forever then, because…" He stepped over to her with pan in hand and slid a pancake onto her plate. "…I don't break."

  That's good to know," Faye said. The smell of the pancakes had her stomach churning its bourbon-filled contents. She grabbed the bottle of maple syrup just as he placed four strips of crispy bacon on top. "Is that coffee I smell?" she asked.

  "It is. How do you take it?" Brody asked over his shoulder.

  "I can get it myself. You're doing enough." There were two cups already placed next to the cafetiere, one of which already had some in it. The other—she presumed was for her—lay empty. Faye liked her coffee black sometimes, and rather than mess about with cream she poured the wonderful liquid into her cup and sat back down. "Ah, coffee. The elixir of the gods."

  Faye poured syrup across her plate and as she chewed on the first heavenly bite, she noticed the tattoo for the first time. He'd been in the shop most of the day which allowed Jackson to outline and shade most of it. The beast was finished, with long wisps of black hair and ghastly white teeth attached to a slack jaw. "I meant to ask, what's the meaning of your new ink?" she asked.