by Nashoda Rose
Her hands came down on my shoulders, fingers sinking into my skin.
I stiffened. “Hands off.”
Her eyelids flew open. “What’s wrong?”
Her hands caressed my skin and the voices moved in like a thick black smog ready to blanket me and destroy this. “Don’t. Touch.” I pulled back, ready to leave when she slowly moved her hands away and grabbed the headboard again. “Ream?”
Christ, I loved how she said my name. It was like her tone lowered and the sound vibrated from her chest. I sighed feeling the tension leave my body. “Yeah, baby?”
“Ream … fuck me.”
And that I could do. “I plan on it.”
I stroked my finger over her shaved mound, wishing I could taste her again, but knowing it wasn’t the time. Instead, I slipped my cock into the dampness between her thighs.
“Christ, you’re wet.”
She smiled and her tongue rolled over her upper lip. “Hmm. All for you. Now put it inside me.”
I lifted her up by the hips, slid my hands beneath her ass, then drove all the way in hard and fast.
I pushed the paint roller up and down the wall, the rhythmic sound of the thrum back and forth. I hated painting, worse was painting in a farmhouse without any air-conditioning in the middle of summer. I glanced over at Kat, who was standing on the ladder, painting the trim around the window, well, she was supposed to be painting it. Instead I found her staring at me, her hand frozen in place, bristles of the brush squished against the window pane leaving a big yellow splotch.
It was cute. Shit, Kat was cute. Not in looks, no she’d be classified as regal, not cute. But her personality was cute. She had this honesty about her, not caring that she walked around with no make-up or was covered in dirt. Although, the night I met her at Avalanche she’d been dressed to the nines, looking sexy as hell with her flirty short dress, sassy smoky eyes, and full red lips.
When she moved to the farm, I’d come by to check in on her because … well damn, her best friend was missing and her life had been uprooted by the lead singer of my band. I owed it to Logan to help out, but it became way more than that. I ended up staying to help out, not for Logan, but for Kat.
She was so determined and unruffled by what was happening. Damn, the girl even slipped under the tractor to do an oil change. She had no idea what she was doing, and it ended up me crawling beneath the filthy machine and showing her. I knew nothing about tractors, but I did know about cars and even though it was cute seeing Kat covered in streaks of grease, I didn’t like the thought of her getting hurt. It was a strange feeling since I’d never cared about a chick in my life.
I tossed my roller in the tray, strode over to her, and then yanked my shirt hanging from my back pocket and used it to wipe the paint splotch off the window. She was still staring at me, but it wasn’t at my naked chest, it was directly at my face as if she was seeing something she’d never seen before. I didn’t know what the fuck it was about that moment, but shit changed.
I helped her off the ladder with one arm around her thighs, plucked her paint brush from her hand and dropped it onto the plastic sheet covering on the floor.
“Let’s eat. I’m cooking.” I took her hand and guided her downstairs to the kitchen. I sat her on a bar stool then started taking stuff out of the fridge and cupboards.
“I’ll help.” She was half-way to her feet when I glanced up at her while taking the chicken out of the packaging. I was getting that Kat was hands on; she wasn’t some chick waiting for a guy to wait on her or be her protector. The thing was I was crazy protective of anyone I cared about.
Losing her had done that to me. I wouldn’t risk that ever happening again, so I kept chicks at a distance—until Kat.
“Sit,” I ordered. And I had an issue with getting my own way, probably because I lacked it as a kid and now I overcompensated. Not probably—it was.
Kat and I had an ease between us, we were good together, we clicked. I wanted to spend time with her, to see her smile, hear her laugh … fuck what was I thinking? I’d never do a relationship. I couldn’t even have sex with the same chick twice. And when I did have sex, the entire time I just wanted it to be over. Could the feelings be different with Kat? No. There was too much bullshit with my past.
Kat grabbed the cutting board from beside the microwave and put it on the counter beside where I was basting the chicken and then washed her hands, grabbed the veggies, and started chopping. I should’ve known she’d ignore me and maybe that’s what I needed. A chick that could stand against my bullshit.
She softly started humming a Maroon 5 song and something swelled in me. And it wasn’t between my legs. It was where I never expected, in my chest … and shit it was fuckin’ nice.
Bang.
I jolted awake at the sound of a door shutting. I turned over expecting to find the silky warmth of the body I’d just fucked for the last forty-eight hours and found nothing. I sat up then rubbed my hand over my head, thinking I’d drag her to the shower where I could have her again before breakfast. She certainly wasn’t objecting to my tastes, so there was no harm in keeping her a while longer. Shit, the voices had only happened that once when I let her go down on me.
Instead, I saw her pulling on her jeans. “What the fuck? Where are you going?”
“I have plans.” She pulled her shirt over her head then picked up her purse.
“Plans?” I repeated, frowning. “Were you going to wake me?”
“No. You can hang here. I’ll be back in few hours. I have an appointment.”
This was her brother Matt’s condo and I had no intention of hanging here while Kat was gone. Matt stayed at his bar, Avalanche, most of the time, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t pop in. Finding me lying naked in his sister’s bed. Jesus, that was all I needed.
I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stalked toward her. She stood her ground while I looped my arm around her waist, picked her up, tossed her over my shoulder, and spanked her ass.
“Ream!” she screamed. Her purse fell to the floor as she grabbed my waist for balance.
“Cancel.” I had to have her one more time. Then we could go our separate ways.
“Ream, I can’t. It’s important.” Her voice went up an octave on the last word as I threw her onto the bed.
My dick hardened at the sight of her lying there, blonde hair messed, lips plush and shiny with pink gloss.
She scrambled to the side of the bed, but I caught her before she had a chance to escape. “I’m not done with you,” I said. And suddenly I wasn’t sure if I ever would be. Jesus, what the fuck? I’d known her for two weeks, and yet here I was contemplating starting some sort of relationship? A relationship I’d never had before. Never wanted or intended. I didn’t want a chick, but Kat … was strong. She could handle my shit. And it was real bad shit.
Was it possible? Or would that sick, disgusted feeling catch up to me with her too?
“Ream, I’m serious. I can’t miss this appointment.”
If I let her slip away, would I lose the taste of what it was like to feel during sex? Would the unemotional coldness slam back into me like I was dead? Fuck, I couldn’t. I didn’t want that again, and I’d do anything to keep this feeling alive.
I lowered my naked body on top of hers, feeling the course material of her jeans on my dick. I had to get rid of her fuckin’ clothes ASAP. “Reschedule.”
She pushed at my chest as I undid her jeans. “I can’t. Ream, seriously.” She punched me in the shoulder, and this time I looked up, my hands pausing on her zipper.
I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my phone. “I’ll get you another appointment tomorrow. What’s the number?” I figured it was a hair or nail appointment. Girls were funny about shit like that.
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“No.” I cupped her between the legs and half smiled when I heard her moan. But to my disappointment, it didn’t last and she slid out from beneath
me and got to her feet.
I fell back onto the bed, closing my eyes. “You and me. We aren’t done, Kat.” Fuck no. I didn’t want that numb feeling of fucking some chick I didn’t give two shits about.
“Umm … yeah.” She paused and I heard her shuffling around. “I’ll catch you later.” Her voice was too high-pitched, and I sat up to find her on her hands and knees scrambling to put items back in her purse that must have fallen out when I threw her over my shoulder.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed to help her when I saw it.
I stared, a crushing disbelief blanketing me.
She froze.
Then at the same time, we both dove for it, but it was closer to me and I grabbed it first.
“What the fuckin’ hell?” My heart pounded with fury and disappointment. Fuck. I knew she was too good to be true. Jesus. My fingers curled around the syringe as I glared at her. Jesus. Fuck. Why? Why did this shit have to be thrown back at me in every facet of my life?
“Ream, it’s not what you think.” She held out her hand. “Give it back.”
“That’s what they all say, isn’t it?” I shoved past her. Fuck. What a Goddamn waste.
The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach whirled and tossed like a friggin’ washing machine. Just looking at the needle made me want to throw up. It was like a slap in my face with the tip of a wet towel.
I felt her delicate hand curl around my bicep and I wrenched away as I pushed open the bathroom door.
She raised her voice. “Ream, no.”
Panicked. Figures. A fuckin’ junky that hates her stash being wasted. I didn’t want or need this bullshit. Not a chance in hell was I going down this road again.
I pulled the lid off the syringe.
“Damn it, Ream. Don’t you dare!” She made a grab for the syringe and knocked it from my hand as it slid across the ceramic tiles.
We both dove for it at the same time, Kat landing on top of me as my knees hit the floor. Her slight weight was nothing to me. I easily shoved her off and she fell backwards onto her butt.
I grabbed the syringe, got to my feet, then turned and glared at her, shaking my head. “Pathetic. Jesus.” I removed the cap then pressed the plunger releasing the clear liquid into the toilet. After flushing, I replaced the cap and tossed the empty syringe onto the counter. God, I couldn’t even look at her, it disgusted me. She disgusted me. “I don’t fuckin’ screw junkies. Period. I’m out of here.” Fuck. How could I have missed this? I knew the signs but somehow I’d missed them with her.
“You bastard!”
I was taken aback by the fire in her eyes. Why the hell was she pissed at me? She was the one with the problem. Crazy bitch. Figures.
She scrambled to her feet then came at me shoving me in the chest several times, and I staggered back toward the wall. All I could do was take what she gave because I sure as shit wasn’t into striking a woman, even one that was freakin’ her shit on me over one hit.
No doubt her appointment was to meet her dealer.
“God, you’re such a jerk.” She pushed me so hard with both hands that I crashed into the bathroom wall. “Thanks for the fuck, asshole. Now get the hell out.”
I didn’t hesitate. I strode back to the bedroom, yanked on my jeans, grabbed my shirt, and pulled it on while heading to the front door.
Then I stopped. I ran my finger over the ink on my right arm, the butterfly. This is why I had to walk. Drugs. Fuck. The pain in my chest was agonizing, like a vise gripping around my heart so tight that it was going to explode at any minute. I needed air—fast. I was drowning in the memories of Haven, and if I didn’t get out of here, I was going to throw up.
“Tell anyone and I’ll castrate you.”
I walked back toward her and I witnessed the flicker of panic in her eyes. Kat was fearless, at least that’s what I’d thought. I grabbed her by the arms before she had the chance to escape.
“Why?” I shouted. I had to know. “Jesus, why?” Why did she have to ruin this?
And I wasn’t letting her go until she told me. I needed to hear it from her lips. I think she must have known because she blurted it out.
I abruptly released her. She continued to speak, but my mind became black muddled sewage and I didn’t hear any of it.
No. Fuck no.
Control was slipping and I had to get out of here—fast. I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating. I had no control and it would kill me. I couldn’t stop the emotions from plowing into me. I never expected I’d give a shit, but at that moment I knew that Kat had been more than a forty-eight hour fuck.
Now … now that was shattered. Her words crushed the smidgeon of hope I had of pulling up the anchor and being set free.
Without saying anything, because I was seriously too fucked up to say anything, I walked out.
Kat
My hips swayed to the beat of the music, my hands above my head, and a pair of hands settled firm on my waist. It had been two days since I’d seen Ream, and I still felt sick to my stomach. I thought coming to Avalanche and dancing would help me forget him … instead, it helped me remember, so I medicated myself with shots of vodka.
I hated every second of the guy’s hands on me, but it was my punishment, self-preservation to convince myself that Ream was just another guy. No big deal.
Every swallow was like I had an apple lodged in my throat. Every breath sucked me under a little farther until the vodka made it a dull, aching pain.
I’d never told anyone about the drugs. Not even Emily knew. Only Matt. And Ream just proved what I expected to happen if anyone found out … would happen.
The male voice whispered in my ear and cut through my thoughts. “Come back to my place tonight, sweetness.”
I shivered and it wasn’t good shivers. Feeling him rub against me was supposed to make me feel wanted; instead, it made me feel repulsed. Jesus, even my usual flirting took a kick to the stomach by Ream’s rejection.
I normally thrived off attention. It didn’t mean I acted on it. The men were all for show, a way to make myself feel desirable. And guys went for me—blonde, tall, long legs. I loved to flirt. I was confident with my looks, but inside … inside I was disintegrating.
But, I tried to live every single day with no regrets.
Until now.
Now I regretted.
Ream I regretted. Because before him no guy mattered enough to hurt me like he did. It was supposed to be a quick lay, but something had built between us in the time we’d hung out together at the farm. There’d been no sex and I think that’s why this hurt more. We’d become friends and now that was gone.
For two weeks we were just ourselves, hurting and worried over our friends while supporting one another. There were no games, no sexual play, we were natural and at ease with one another. It was only when Emily returned that it changed. We’d planned on a one nighter, neither of us wanting more, but something happened between us. I thought Ream had felt it too. I was wrong. What was worse was that I missed just hanging out with Ream every day. That hurt more than the sex.
“Kat.” His voice. Jesus, I still heard it in my head. What the hell was wrong with me? Why did it hurt so bad? The sex was good, I mean he was rough and I could tell he liked having control, and I was good with that. Actually, I realized that it was hot letting him take control. I had it in every other part of my life, so letting him take charge was refreshing. But it hadn’t just been mind-blowing, life altering sex. I sensed his distance, the need to have it hard and fast and then that thing with not wanting me to finish the blow job … yeah, there was something—
“Kat.”
Oh God. His voice was real. I stopped moving and looked over my shoulder at the man that had caused me to take a few more of the pills in my nightstand than I normally would.
“We need to talk.”
Ream stood in the middle of the dance floor, his face tight, lips pursed together, and he wasn’t looking at me, he was looking at the guy behind me. Shit, he w
as royally pissed off. The question was whether it was at me or the guy he was driving nails into with his stare.
“You had your chance, asshole. And second ones don’t exist in my world.” I grabbed my dance partner’s hand and pulled him through the crowd toward the bar.
My heart pounded so goddamn fast it was painful.
“Screw off,” Ream said to the guy, coming up beside us. There was no mistake that it wasn’t a request.
“Jesus. You’re an ass.” I looked at my dance partner. “Give us a second?” He shrugged and walked off toward the restroom. I sat on the bar stool and nodded to Brett. He looked at me then at Ream, who stood behind me. There was a second of hesitation before Brett grabbed a Stella then flicked the cap off and slid it toward me. Brett looked at Ream, who gave a subtle shake of his head, then he moved away and Ream moved in closer so he was standing between me and the bar.
He didn’t lean against the bar or look uncomfortable or even show a trace of remorse. Instead, he stood stiff and cold while looking directly at me.
I raised my brows. “Well, what do you want?”
“You hit me with some serious shit. And it took you two weeks to do it.”
I grabbed my beer and chugged back a quarter of it then slammed it down on the bar. The foam rushed to the top and spilled over.
Ream continued, “I’m not often wrong about people.”
“Hey, Brett, vodka?” I yelled as he served another client halfway down the bar. “You done? I’m busy.”
“Who’s the guy?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know his name. Nor do I care. His cock feels big. That’s all I need to know for tonight.” It was meant to hurt him, not that he’d really give a shit anyway, but it made me feel better saying it.
Silence. I didn’t need to look at Ream to know he was seething. The air was so thick around us that I struggled to keep my breath even.