Banging Reaper

by Sweet, Izzy

  “Yeah,” he admits, slurring.

  “I don’t think you coming in is a good idea.”

  I sense Chase moving behind me and I wonder if I would have invited Ethan in if Chase wasn’t here. I don’t like the answer I come to one bit because the answer is: probably. If Chase wasn’t here, I’d probably invite Ethan in. I’d probably let Ethan apologize to me. And I’d probably even forgive him.

  But with Chase at my back, I can feel how big of a mistake that would be. Ethan has changed and we need to have a serious talk. When he’s sober. I don’t know who he is anymore. This regretful drunk at my door is not the friend I know and love.

  Perhaps that friend is gone for good.

  “Please Avery,” Ethan pleads and I close my eyes. Not only because it sucks that we’re in this position, this awful shitty position, but because his breath reeks. It’s super strong of alcohol.

  “We’ll talk later,” I tell Ethan. When I’ve had some time to think about all of this.

  “I’m busy later,” Ethan says, his voice bordering on a whine. “Let’s talk now.”

  “No,” I say, unable to keep my irritation from leaking into my voice. “I’m not ready to talk about it, it’s too fresh.”

  Ethan is quiet, and he’s not normally quiet.

  I soften my voice as I say, “I’m sorry Ethan. I’m just not ready to forgive you yet.”

  “Okay Avery, I understand,” Ethan says, and I feel utterly relieved. Too relieved.

  I was afraid he was going to continue to press the issue. Sometimes it can be very hard for Ethan to accept not getting his way. And right now, he’s definitely not getting his way. There’s no way I’m talking to him. There’s no way he’s coming in here.

  “Call me later?” he asks. “When you’re ready to talk?”

  “I will,” I assure him and start closing the door.

  His own foot darts out to stop it. “And don’t worry about showing up at the store until you feel better. Take a couple of days off.”

  If only I could.

  I nod my head though. “Okay.”

  “I hope you feel better Avery,” he says.

  I force a smile. “Me too.”

  Just as I think Ethan is leaving, he suddenly asks, “That Reaper fuck didn’t try anything with you, did he?”

  “What?” I gasp and I sense Chase stiffening behind me. “Try what? He just gave me a ride home.”

  “He’s fucking notorious. He’s fucked every ring girl that’s come through that arena. Did he try to fuck with you?”

  “No!” I immediately blurt out. “You know I’m not that kind of girl.”

  My cheeks are flaming. I can still sense Chase behind me. I need to get Ethan out of here before I die of embarrassment.

  “I know you’re not that type of girl,” Ethan says quietly. Then his voice rises in slurred anger. “I just want to know if that fucking fuck tried to mess with you. I saw the way he was looking at you last night.”

  “Go home, Ethan,” I groan. “You’re drunk. I’ll call you later.”

  “But, Avery,” he whines.

  “Go!” I snap, losing my patience.

  Ethan slowly backs away from the door as if he doesn’t really want to. I give him a couple of seconds before I close the door so it doesn’t seem like I’m slamming it in his face.

  I lean forward and listen to his footsteps as he leaves. I don’t even sense Chase coming up behind me, I’m so focused on making sure Ethan is gone.

  I turn around and Chase is just there, filling up my personal space.

  For some reason, I’m so surprised, so overwhelmed by having him so close that I gasp and my fingers betray me. These treacherous digits of mine let go of the blanket and it falls in a heap to the floor.

  Chase

  Fuck! God damn Ethan. It’s like he’s a bad case of crabs, he just doesn't go away!

  Listening to Avery have to explain herself is more than infuriating. That mouthy little fucker hurt her and now he’s here at her doorstep begging to be forgiven. I may not even have a claim on this little raven-haired beauty, but I will be damned if he comes into this apartment after what he did to her.

  Walking up behind her, I stand just a few feet away. I'm fairly confident if push comes to shove, Ethan will be going down the stairs the hard way.

  She turns around and I’m positive I have completely invaded her personal bubble. Her gasp and the thick blanket falling to the floor are pretty good indicators that I’ve startled her with how close I am.

  Looking down at her, I stare into those deep emerald eyes. Her pouty pink lips look so damn good, I’m not sure how I was able to leave last night without kissing those lips, but this time those lips are mine.

  I bend down and pull her by the shoulders against me, my hands holding her tight. Leaning down, I lightly brush my lips against hers. She’s just as soft and warm as I remember. She gasps and the sound zips straight to my cock.

  I am not sure if she thought I would be rough, normally I am rough with a girl. I like to take what I want. Right now though, just gently kissing her sweet, soft lips feels like the right thing to do. One of her hands slides up against my chest and clutches at my shirt. It only encourages me to continue to go slow and gentle with her.

  She moans into my mouth and I feel her tongue poking against my lips, trying to find a way inside. Fuck. I groan deep in my chest but only give her a little of what she wants as I barely open my mouth for her. I want her hot and I want her to need me.

  It makes things so much easier, so much better… so much wetter.

  My right hand slides down to her lower back and my left hand goes to the back of her head, lacing her hair between my fingers. I push my body against hers and her small whimper fills me with a deep sense of satisfaction inside my heart. She's going to be mine soon.

  She pushes her lower stomach against me and rubs that tight little tummy of hers against my throbbing cock. I think the sensation of my thick cock against her belly inflames her even more.

  I feel her lips pull back and she moans loudly as she all but tries to flatten me against the wall. She throws her entire body against me as if she could move me. Silly girl.

  Releasing her hair, I slide my hand down her smooth shirtless back, still taking my time. My hand roams down, past the back of her bra, following her spine. Then I grab two big handfuls of her juicy panty-covered ass.

  Lifting her up isn't really that much of a job. She’s thick and curvy with the body of a goddess, but in my hands she feels as if she weighs nothing at all. Her legs wrap around me tighter than I could've ever possibly imagined. She’s breathing heavily against my lips and I move my hips, grinding against her with my hard throbbing cock.

  Twisting us around, I push her hard up against the wall. I dry hump her soaked panties while leaking pre-cum all over my boxers. This was definitely not what I thought we would be doing when I decided to come over here. I don’t want to take advantage of the girl given that last night she was hurt and I rescued her. But now that this is happening, and she's not stopping me, I can barely contain myself.

  I lower my head down to her neck and suck hard. I bite her throbbing vein because I have the irresistible urge to mark her as mine.

  Her head flies backwards, moaning in heat. Then suddenly she’s shrieking in pain just after her head makes contact with the hard wall. Lifting my head in surprise, I watch her eyes cross in pain.

  Fuck, she’s hurt again, this sucks. I wrap my arms around her and slowly lower her to the floor. All thoughts of sex are forgotten. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt this girl.

  “Ah fuck, Avery are you okay?” I ask trying to make sure she is steady.

  I walk her slowly to her small pitiful couch and help her sit down.

  “Ugh,” she groans out as she sits down and wraps her head in her arms.

  “Let me get you some ice,” I say rushing into her kitchen and grabbing a towel from her oven handle.

  Pulling ice out of her f
reezer, I put a small handful into the towel and then rush right on back over to her.

  “Oh my god, that hurt!" She cries out while gently applying the ice pack to the back of her head.

  Oh my god, my cock isn't hurting but damn it if it isn’t aching with want. I consider dropping a couple of those ice cubes down my pants to help me cool down.

  I grab her blanket and sit down on the couch, hearing it groan as I settle in beside her. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her over to me, offering her comfort. She leans into me and holds the ice pack to the back of her head.

  “I'm sorry Avery, you okay?”

  “Yeah, but I definitely need to shower and get ready for school.” She groans and looks up to the clock on the wall.

  I don’t want to let her go, she feels so good in my arms. I can feel her squirming though and getting antsy. She pulls away.

  “Where's your cell phone?” I ask her.

  She looks at me, confused, then she points to the kitchen table.

  I stand and walk over to the table, picking up her phone. “What’s your pin code?”

  “Twelve twenty.” She frowns at me as I handle her phone. “What are you doing?”

  “Is that your birthday?” I ask as I text my own phone from hers.

  I feel a slight vibration as a loud beep comes from my back pocket.

  “Yes, I'm a December baby. Did you just text yourself?”

  “Yep. What time are you off tonight?”

  “Eight-fifteen.”

  I walk back over to her and hand her the phone. “Can I call you?”

  She hesitates before answering. “Yes,” she says finally, looking up at me with those emerald eyes. So beautiful.

  I want to kiss her again but I know if I do I won’t be able to stop myself.

  I resist the urge to adjust myself in my jeans. My cock is still hard, aching and straining for release. If I didn’t like this girl so much, I don’t think I’d be able to walk away. If she was any other girl, one of my usual bimbos, I’d probably talk her into letting me jack off on her tits.

  “I'll call you tonight.”

  I walk to the door and turn back to see her still sitting there, staring at me. “Lock up behind me, Avery.”

  I exit her apartment, closing the door behind me. It takes a couple of seconds but I hear the tumblers of her dead bolt lock into place.

  I walk down the steps of her building with a wide gait. My cock still isn't exactly soft but it’s better than it was a few moments ago.

  Hopping into my Jeep, I pull away from the curb in front of her apartment building and merge into the light traffic. I'm going to have to hit the gym today. I’m going to need to punch a few things to expend all this pent up energy coursing through me.

  Chapter Six

  Avery

  Sitting through my classes today was pure torture. My head wouldn’t stop aching and I couldn’t stop thinking about Chase.

  More precisely, I couldn’t stop thinking about Chase kissing me.

  My Algebra instructor droned on and on, and I just couldn’t focus on the problems no matter how hard I tried. I suck at math, it’s always been my worst subject. It’s my second year of college, working towards my human services degree, and I’m still stuck in Algebra. So I gritted my teeth against the throbbing in my head and squeezed my knees together against the throbbing between my thighs and did my best to tough it out.

  But it was hopeless. I was too distracted, too confused about what I wanted. I literally just met Chase last night and watched him beat down my best friend. Twice. How fucked up am I?

  But on the other hand, even knowing that I’m fucked up and feeling totally guilty about it, I couldn’t stop fantasizing about what could have been. If only I hadn’t been so clumsy and hit my head where would we have ended up? On the floor? On my couch? In my bed? Right there against the door?

  It only made the throbbing that much worse.

  Ethan probably wasn’t even out of the building before I turned on Chase and attacked him like a sex crazed pervert. Oh my god, I’m such a hussy. He probably only wanted my number because I’m a guaranteed easy lay. I shouldn’t answer the phone when he calls… Yet, I can’t stop checking it.

  I’m on my way to work, carrying my phone in my hand. Every so often my eyes flick down to it and I consider both sending Chase a text and blocking him so he can’t call. He knows where I live though, and I’m pretty sure if he really wanted to he could break down my door if he wanted to get in.

  He looks exactly like the kind of guy who would break down my door for some sex.

  He’s ripped, muscled up with the hard body of a greek god. I guess he has to be to be a professional ass kicker. Did I seriously just call him a professional ass kicker? Even in my thoughts, he’s got me feeling different… feeling out of control.

  What is it about him? What is it exactly that makes me so hot and turns me on? Is it his height? Is it all the bulging muscles? Could it be the tattoos? I’ve never had a thing for ink before.

  No, no. I know what it is. It’s that he looks hard, he looks scary, even intimidating. Totally like a tattooed punk. But with me, when he’s talking to me or kissing me or holding me in his arms, he so soft. So irresistibly soft.

  “Hey, Avery,” my manager Joe says pulling me out of my thoughts. “I thought you weren’t coming in tonight.”

  I glance up and blink at Joe. I’ve walked through the entire front of Glier’s Electronics without even realizing it. Now I’m in the back, in the employee’s only area, pulling open my locker.

  I’ve done this kind of thing before. I do it sometimes when I’m deep in thought. Somehow my body keeps moving even though I’m not aware of it. My brain is so distracted, my body switches to autopilot. Usually I do the autopilot thing when I’m in the shower. One moment I’m massaging shampoo into my scalp and the next I’m turning the water off. I always have to check my legs to make sure I shaved before I dry off.

  “Earth to Avery,” Joe says. “Go home.”

  Joe crosses his arms over his chest and spreads his feet as if he’s going to physically block me from clocking in. He’s a nice guy, about the same height as me and most definitely outweighs by at least a hundred pounds.

  I try to take a step around Joe but he quickly shuffles, cutting me off.

  “But I’m scheduled for tonight,” I frown.

  I need to work tonight. I need the money or I’m not going to make rent this month. Well, I could make rent if I cut down on my food. But I’m already only eating one meal a day which is totally not healthy at all.

  Joe shakes his bald head and his chin jiggles. “Not according to the big boss. He personally pulled you from tonight.”

  Shit. When Ethan told me to take a couple of nights off I thought it was just a suggestion. He’s never called me off before.

  “No, it must be a mistake,” I say quickly and try to slip past Joe’s other side. Somehow I’ve got to clock in. Legally Joe can’t clock me out. “Let me clock in then I’ll give Ethan a call.”

  Joe snorts loudly and blocks me. Dammit. I forgot he played football in high school. Even for a big guy he can move fast.

  “I never thought in all my years as a manager I’d have to say this… Go home, Avery. There’s more to life than just work.”

  “But…” I start to protest.

  Joe’s eyes narrow at me and he says more firmly, “Go. Before I throw you out.”

  I pout at Joe but it doesn’t sway him. He just shakes his head and frowns some more. He’s not going to budge.

  I’m angry. I can feel angry tears prickling my eyes so I turn around before they leak out. I know he’s really trying to be nice. He probably even thinks he’s doing me a favor. What employee, especially a young college girl like me, doesn’t want an extra night off?

  I yank open my locker and grab my backpack. I slip the straps over my shoulders and slam the door of my locker shut to let some of my steam out. It helps, a little.

  The sto
re is a blurry mess of bright lights and faceless customers as I rush through the aisles. It’s a wonder I don’t crash into anyone.

  I push through the front doors and once the night air hits my face, I start to cool down. It will be okay, I’ll figure this out, I reassure myself. To save on bus fare I decide to walk home.

  Half way home I’m cooled down enough to lift my phone to my ear and give Ethan a call. The phone rings and rings, eventually going to voicemail.

  “Hey, Ethan. It’s me, Avery,” I say after the beep. “I’m feeling so much better now. My head doesn’t hurt at all. I tried to work tonight but Joe said you pulled me off the schedule. Can you give me a call back and put me back on? Thanks. Talk to you later.”

  I disconnect the call then check my phone. It’s still early. I’ve probably got at least a couple of hours to kill.

  My phone buzzes just as I reach my front door. I don’t even finish unlocking my door before my eager eyes glance down.

  It’s a text from Ethan.

  Ethan: Hey, Ave. Can’t talk. You’re off for the week. Feel better.

  What?! I’m off for the week? My heart races with panic. That can’t happen. I have to work. My fingers fly across my phone.

  Me: Sorry if I wasn’t clear. My mistake. I need to work. Please put me back on the schedule?

  Ethan doesn’t answer right away. I stare really, really hard at my phone.

  The little message pops up that he’s typing a response then it stops. It keeps starting up and stopping. I realize while I’m waiting on him, I’m standing in my hallway like a jackass with my keys still in the door.

  Never taking my eyes off my screen, I finish unlocking my door and push it open. Just as the door closes behind me, Ethan texts me back.

  Ethan: Just checked with Joe. He’s already covered your slots. Hit me up tomorrow night, we’ll hang out.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. I seriously doubt the rest of the week is paid time off. I’m so fucked.

  My fingers start moving across the phone, typing up a response. I type up message after message, but ultimately they all seem too needy, too pathetic after I read them back to myself so I just end up deleting them all.