by Michelle Amy
“Aren’t you?” I asked as my eyes caught his.
“I used a baseball bat to try to kill someone.”
His flat answer left me feeling unsettled. I watched his eyes as he spoke. They were hard and I knew he was remembering every detail of what he had done. He pulled his chair closer to the table and leaned over it. He reached out with one hand and touched my cheekbone on my right side. “I hit him here, as hard as I could. His cheek blew apart under his skin. He went to the floor. I hit him again,” his hand left my face and fell upon the knee I had crossed over my left leg, “right here. He has four screws in his knee now. And I kept hitting him until he didn’t move anymore. I didn’t stop until I thought he was dead.”
I swallowed.
“And then I went to prison for four years. And here I am. Unable to get a damn job because I have a bad temper.” He fell back into his chair again. His eyes looked down at his hands.
I jumped when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I twisted in my chair and looked up into a pair of familiar blue eyes. It was Jason.
CHAPTER THREE
He stood beside a slender young girl wearing a tight skirt and a crop top that showed off a pierced navel on a flat stomach. She had both hands wrapped around Jason’s arm and was leaning her cheek on his shoulder. Her eyes were resting on me and a coy smile brought one corner of her mouth upwards, revealing a dimpled bronze cheek.
“Hey Vee,” Jason said, his voice chipper. “Been a while.”
He was the only person who called me Vee. Hearing it on his lips brought back a wave of emotions that I had been trying to put behind me for nine months. I forced myself to smile and felt like an idiot. “Yeah, it has. How... how are you?”
“Great, I’m great.” He drew the girl forward who was clinging to his arm. “This is Denise.”
Denise reached out a hand that was decorated in sparkling jewellery. I shook it. “Hi, Veronica, Jason has told me so much about you. I’m so happy to meet you.” Liar.
“Nice to meet you too,” I said, shaking her hand. Her grip was firm and I wanted to sink deeper into my chair to escape them both.
Jason’s eyes flicked over to McCoy, who remained casually draped over his chair. I collected my manners from the floor and looked to McCoy. “This is McCoy,” I offered. “McCoy, this is Jason and Denise.”
McCoy didn’t move. His eyes went from me to Jason. He never so much as glanced at Denise. This bothered her. She put a hand on her hip and flicked her long blonde hair back over her shoulder to reveal her cleavage that was nearly spilling out of her crop top. “Hi McCoy,” she practically purred, “How do you kids know each other?”
McCoy looked back at me. Clearly, he wasn’t going to engage in any sort of conversation with either of them. I answered for us. “We actually just met the other night.”
“Oh, a date I see,” Denise said playfully. She planted a kiss on Jason’s cheek. “We’re out on a date ourselves. Jason is just the sweetest. I suppose you know that already.”
“Oh yeah,” I muttered, “He definitely is.” I caught McCoy watching me out of the corner of my eye. I found myself wishing he wasn’t there to see me all flustered.
Jason was watching McCoy and wasn’t trying to hide the unimpressed look that had washed over his features. He pulled up a chair from one of the empty tables nearby and dragged it up to our table. Then he dropped into it and put his elbows on the table. He entwined his fingers and leaned towards me. “So, what’s new with you?”
Denise pouted behind him. I remembered when he used to do things like that to me. She crossed her arms and popped out a hip. McCoy surprised all of us by reaching out and lazily dragging up a chair for her. She sat down and thanked him shyly. He remained stoically silent. Jason cast him a wary glance before settling his attention back to me.
“Nothing new, really-” I started.
“Still working for that crazy bag? What was her name? Alicia? Amy? One of those, right?”
“No, her name is Lisa. And yeah, I still work there. But-”
“Damn. You been there a long time. Still sticking it out for that promotion? Sales right?”
“Publishing,” I corrected.
“Yeah, yeah, publishing. What else are you up to? Still hang out with Carly?”
“Of course I do, she’s my best friend.”
Jason crossed his arms on the table and I found myself wishing he would give me a bit more space. “Yeah, but she’s kinda crazy, you know? I always told you that. She’s probably what’s holding you back. I don’t know why you never listened to me when I told you-”
Jason stopped talking when McCoy pushed his chair back and stood. His intimidating height forced Jason to crane his neck to look up at him. McCoy offered me his hand and I stared at it like a fool. He encouraged me with a wiggle of his fingers.
I took it, and he guided me to my feet. Then he turned his attention to Jason, who remained in his seat staring at McCoy with his mouth hanging open. “I’d like to say it was a pleasure meeting you both,” McCoy said, grabbing my purse from where it hung off the back of my chair and handing it to me, “but, it wasn’t.”
My hand darted to my mouth to suppress the laugh that nearly escaped.
Jason was on his feet and his face was screwed up with anger. I had seen it a few times when we were together. He used to get mad at me for making plans without consulting him. Not this kind of mad, but close enough. I also saw him get into a scrap once because a guy in a club slapped my ass. That had been a long time ago.
Jason glared at McCoy, who was staring down at him with a bored expression. I intervened by slipping between them. My back was pressed up against McCoy. I could feel the buckle on his belt against my lower back. My shoulder blades were against his chest. I held up a hand and said Jason’s name. “We’re just gonna go, okay? It was nice seeing you again. Nice meeting you, Denise. You guys have a good night, okay?”
“You’re going to leave with this guy?” Jason barely looked at me and kept his gaze fixed on McCoy.
“Jason, it doesn’t matter who I’m leaving with.”
“Oh yes it does,” he said, jabbing a finger past my ear and up at McCoy’s face. “You’d better not lay a hand on her, you piece of-”
I slapped Jason’s hand down. “I’m not your girlfriend anymore, Jason. You don’t get to decide who I’m with. You don’t get to decide anything. So sit down and shut up.”
McCoy put both hands on either side of my hips and pulled me against him. He pressed his cheek against mine and pulled my hair off my shoulder. “Yeah Jason,” he said confidently, “sit down and shut up.”
So maybe McCoy was more confrontational than I had expected. The anger that had just started to subside in Jason’s eyes was relit and he was vibrating with rage. I wanted to tell him to calm down, but I was distracted by McCoy’s closeness. When he pressed his lips against my neck just below my ear I almost turned to butter in his hands.
Jason exploded. I watched it happen in what felt like slow motion. The vein on the right side of his forehead doubled in size. The tendons in his neck stood at attention and a primal yell broke free from him as he lunged forward.
I was slow to react. I hadn’t expected him to come forward like that. I was standing in his way, after all. But my presence didn’t seem to matter. As I watched his angry fist come hurtling towards me I wondered how I ever loved him. He was about to strike me because he let himself be provoked by a man he didn’t know.
McCoy’s hands on my hips pushed me sideways. I spun out of the way and landed back in my chair. McCoy stepped into Jason’s punch and took it on the shoulder as he wove himself around Jason’s outstretched arm. Then he came in with a knee to the gut and an elbow to Jason’s back.
Jason crumpled to the ground with a pitiful moan and stayed there. McCoy straightened his jacket and turned back to me, offering me his hand as he had before. I stood with him and stepped over Jason as Denise dropped to her knees beside him. She shot me a dirty look as we made ou
r way to the fence that went along the outside of the patio. McCoy lifted me up and placed me on the other side of the fence with little effort. Then he stepped over it with his long legs, put a hand on my lower back, and urged me forwards.
When we had gone about two blocks down the street I stopped walking and turned back to him. He was standing incredibly close to me. I had to tilt my head back to look up at him. I was eye level with one of the buttons at the neck of his shirt. I had to force myself not to look at the bit of chest that was exposed.
“Why did you do that for me?” I asked.
“I didn’t realize it was for you,” his eyes were mischievous and looked black in the poor light of the street lamp above. “You’re kind of self centered, you know.”
I wanted him to touch me again. I wanted to feel that warm electric shock go through my body as he put his hands on my hip and his calloused palm grazed my bare skin at the hem of my shirt. I wanted his lips on my neck. I wanted his lips everywhere. “Were you serious before?” I whispered. When his eyebrows drew together in confusion I took a deep breath and clarified for him. “What I mean is… were you serious when you said you expected a woman to beg, if she wanted you?”
“Why do you ask?” He stayed where he was as a car drove by. His face was lit for a moment by the passing headlights and I saw the eagerness in his face. He was playing a game with me. He reached out with one hand and hooked his finger in one of the belt loops on my jeans. He tugged me closer to him. His forefinger held me in place by the thin denim loop while his thumb played with the waistband and eventually slipped a couple inches down my pants. He caught my thong and playfully inched it up over the top of my jeans just slightly. “How did I know you were a pink kind of girl?”
I wished I was wearing a matching black lace set. I wished I was wearing something more dangerous. I wasn’t. I was wearing pink lace panties and a purple bra. The bra had a diamond heart between my breasts. There was nothing dangerous about it at all.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I breathed.
He let go of my belt loop and his hand slid half way up my shirt to rest on my waist. “What do you think?” He lowered his head and his lips grazed my neck again. I quivered under his touch and closed my eyes as he continued to graze my skin with his soft lips. He made his way up to my earlobe which he pinched between his teeth. His hand wandered further up my shirt and traced a line just below the underwire of my bra. “Do you think I would make you beg?”
“Yes.”
I felt him smile against my neck. “And how do you feel about that?” He pulled away so that his face was just inches above mine. He stared down at me and I became lost in him, letting his hand move to the top of my bra where he glided his fingers over my breasts. The sensation created a stirring below my belly that I had never felt before. I didn’t even care that we were standing in plain sight on the sidewalk. In fact, I had nearly forgotten.
“I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” I meant it.
“Whatever I want?”
I nodded. I could hardly stand being so close to him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and press myself up tight against him. I wanted to feel his bare skin on mine. I wanted him to lay me down and do whatever the hell it was he liked to do.
He made a soft sound in the back of his throat as he feigned thoughtfulness. “What if I want to hurt you?”
I swallowed and he rested his other hand at the base of my throat. “You don’t want to,” I said, my voice barely audible in my own ears.
The hand on my throat went lower, falling to the front of my jeans. He pushed me backwards a few steps, using his hands to guide me up against the window of a used book store. When my back hit the glass I realized he already had the button of my jeans open. He pulled the zipper down and never broke my stare.
I heard people walk by. Someone was wearing heels and they clicked by, the sound accompanied by happy chatting voices. McCoy’s size blocked me from view and I didn’t look away from him as he braced himself with one hand against the window above my head. The hand that still played with the front of my jeans came up my side until his finger rested under my chin. He tilted my face upwards and bent his face down to meet mine.
When his lips first touched mine it was a delicate thing. They touched and then he pulled away, then came back with another gentle kiss that made me stop breathing. He teased me like that for a while, giving me uncommitted kisses that made me desperate for more. His finger under my chin demanded that I stay where I was. I didn’t have any intentions of disobeying. Finally he lowered it, trusting me to stay where I was so he could continue his agonizing torture of soft kisses.
When his hand brushed me just above my panties I moaned. I couldn’t help it. He smiled and pressed his hand down the front of my jeans but on top of my panties. He began to rub me in slow circles that made it nearly impossible to stay on my feet. But I stayed.
The hand above my head left the wall and he straightened above me. The other hand pulled out of my jeans and snapped the top of my thong playfully. I remained breathless in front of him, staring up with eyes that I knew hid none of my desire.
“I don’t want to hurt you, you’re right.” His voice hitched in his throat. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. “But there are a lot of things I do want.” He kissed me again.
“What kind of things?” I tried to ignore the wetness in my underwear.
He lowered himself again and braced himself with one hand against the wall. “I want to taste you. I want to lay you down and fuck you until you can’t see straight. I want to hear my name on your lips. I want you to beg for it. I want you to cum.” His hand wandered down the inside of my panties and he felt how wet I was. “It would seem that perhaps, you want the same things.” He slipped a finger inside me.
My eyes closed and I rested my head against the window. His lips found mine again as he explored me with a gentle finger that slid in and out of me.
“Do you want me, too?” He asked.
I nodded.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes,” I managed, “I want you.”
“And what do you want me to do to you?”
“Everything.”
“Not a good enough answer,” he taunted.
What he was doing with his hands made it exceedingly difficult to answer him. “Please,” I whispered, “please, do whatever you want to me. Wherever you want. I don’t care. I need you. Please.”
He finally kissed me like he meant it. His lips pressed themselves against mine with a burning urgency. His tongue pushed into my mouth and I could taste his beer. I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck and used his height to hold myself up as he demanded I widen my legs. Another finger slid inside me. The rhythm of his hands was ecstasy. I was out of breath as he brought me to the edge of an orgasm- something Jason had rarely given me.
Just when I thought I couldn’t handle any more he stopped and pulled away from me with an intoxicating smile. “You want me to lay you out right here?” He asked. “Or can we take this somewhere a little more private?”
“Private is good,” I gasped, fumbling to do up the top of my jeans. “I live just a few blocks up that way.”
“I didn’t tell you to do those up,” he scolded. His tone and expression was playful, but I knew he meant it. My hands fell from my jeans and I left the button undone. He grabbed my hand and we crossed the street. Then we cut up through the residential areas at a brisk pace. I didn’t want to wait any longer than I had to, and by his long strides I guessed he was feeling the same way.
CHAPTER FOUR
McCoy took the steps up to my front porch two at a time and turned back to me and chuckled as I held up my jeans with every step. I gave him a scowl that fell flat when I couldn’t help but grin back at him. I unlocked the door and we rolled in together. His hip bumped the small table that was up against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. I dropped my keys into the bowl on it as he cursed under his
breath and rubbed his hip. I called him a baby. He pushed me against the wall and held me there.
He then proceeded to torture me by pinning my wrists above my head. His knee wedged in between my legs and rested against the wall, forcing me to bend at the knees and give him all the control in the situation. I didn’t mind being powerless. It was, in it’s own strange way, somewhat empowering. His leg between mine and his fingers around my wrists made me feel small but not weak. Something about him made me feel at ease, despite his sour attitude and his history. For the briefest moment the image of him standing above a bloodied body with a baseball bat in his hand flickered in my mind.
It was chased away when he kissed me again. He let go of my wrists and his hands held my lower back, pulling my hips close to him. His hands wandered up my back and undid my bra. His fingers gently massaged my back where the bra had sat. Somehow he knew all the right things to do; he knew the power of his touch and how intoxicating he was. He leveraged it like an expert. It dawned on me that this was his forte. He had done this countless of times. I had done this with one other person. One. And we switched back and forth between three positions and we only ever had sex in a bed. I nearly let McCoy fuck me senseless on the sidewalk. I was in over my head with him, but I didn’t dare tell him to stop.
His fingers worked my shirt up over my head. My bra was still in place despite it being undone. A flutter of nervous grew in my belly as he reached out to pull my bra off. My heart pounded, my fingertips tingled, and my mouth was suddenly dry. I wondered if I was ready for this- whatever this was about to be. Was I willing to give this stranger everything?
He paused with his hands cupping my breasts under my bra. He lowered his head and grazed the tops of my breasts with his lips. I could smell his hair. I buried my fingers in it and pulled his head up to give him an urgent and desperate kiss. I was as equally full of desire as I was fear. He didn’t strike me as the kind of man who would be willing to wait around if I got cold feet. I didn’t expect him to. I knew what this was. It was a hookup, plain and simple. There was nothing wrong with that. We both got what we wanted. What we needed. But if I hesitated he could see it as a waste of time.