Hate Sex

by Billy Storm

  Rhett clearing his throat startles me, and I jump slightly. His hand on my thigh pats me gently. “You okay?” I choke out a yes, but it sounds weak even to me. The look he gives me tells me that he’s not quite okay either.

  After we drop Joe off and make sure he’s safely inside and deposited on his recliner for the night, we head back to Pinkies.

  “You were supposed to turn on Oakley!”

  “I’m taking you home—”

  “No, I need my car!” The stubborn set of his jaw tells me that I won’t be getting my car anytime soon.

  “I’ll take you to get it tomorrow.”

  “I need it tomorrow, Rhett. Dammit, take me to my car.”

  Suddenly, he pulls the truck into an empty parking lot and puts it in park. I can feel him looking at me, but call me stubborn, I don’t want to look at him. I’ve worked up a good mad, and I’m liabel to snap at any moment.

  “Skye, look at me.” When he un-clicks my seatbelt, I look at him just before he reaches over and slides me as if I weigh nothing and as if I don’t have a choice in the matter. Taking my hands in his, Rhett tightens his grip when I try to pull away. “Please.”

  “What do you want?” I snap.

  “To apologize.”

  “Apologize?”

  He seemed to be struggling with what to say. “I should’ve called you like I said I would, but I had an emergency—a family emergency.” It’s hard not to smile when I watch him rub his hand back and forth over his closely shorn head. I’m pretty sure it’s the equivalent of running fingers through thick hair that isn’t there. “Can I take you home so we can talk? Do you work in the morning?”

  Something in his demeanor seems broken. Nothing sucks me in faster than a broken, brooding man. Why stop now, right? With my track record, it would be a shame. “No, I only work at the club tomorrow—”

  “And, that’s not until four.” When I look at him, he has the decency to look guilty, at least. “Yeah, I looked at the schedule to see what hours you had this weekend.”

  Not even going to acknowledge what he just admitted, since I can see the poor man’s embarrassment already. “I can get my car tomorrow.” I’m sure Eden would give me a ride to the club before her shift starts.

  The smile that spreads across his face is so far removed from his normal sexy smirk and is downright goofy looking. I’ve never seen anything better. And then we are off—back on the road again heading toward my place.

  Pulling up to the front gate, I lean over Rhett and explain to Mike, the guard at the gate, that I don’t have my car tonight and that Rhett will be staying for a while. He takes down Rhett’s plate number and opens the gate for us. This is one of my favorite things about living here. I feel safe, and I’ve lacked that feeling for so many years.

  “Whoa! What in the hell are you doing in here?” His lively laugh echoes through my living room when he looks at the dozen paint samples slathered on the wall.

  “I’ve been trying to decide on colors. I only want to paint each room once…well, at least for awhile.”

  Motioning toward the mess of paint on the wall. “I take it you’re having problems choosing a color for in here?”

  “No, this room will stay beige. It’s the other rooms giving me hell.” Pointing at the first of three greens, I look over my shoulder at him. “One of these three will be the dining room.” I glance back at the paint swipes on the wall. “And one of these reds will be the kitchen.” When I feel him approach me, I turn back to face him; I’m surprised to find him so close.

  One thick finger points at the four shades of blue. “These?”

  “Bathroom,” I answer as I watch his eyes shift from one swatch to another. When I see his facial expression, I know what he’s thinking. “I like color and I don’t want to live in a white tomb.” I’m expecting some smart-ass comment or something. “Life is far too short to live it dull.”

  “This would be perfect for the bathroom. It’s not too dark, since it’s a small space.” Sliding his finger over to the reds. “I’d choose one of these two—either one will work.”

  I’m a little shocked. “What about the greens?” And, he says nothing. “What?” Still nothing. “Rhett, what the hell? No opinion?”

  He laughed as he confessed. “Does different shades of snot really make you want to eat, Skye?”

  Slapping my backhand against his chest, I look over the greens again. “They don’t look like snot!”

  “Yeah, they do.”

  “If your snot looks like this you may as well consider yourself toxic!”

  “Just like these colors.”

  That comment earns him another slap.

  “Do you really want to paint your dining room green? Snot green?”

  Now, since he said it…not really, because thanks to him, all I see is snot. Ugh. Sighing, I’m willing to admit defeat. “No, no, I don’t. Green is definitely out, I guess.” Sighing, I let myself fall onto the loveseat. Instead of sitting on the chair or couch, Rhett stretches out directly at my side. “Hi,” I say when he’s only inches from my face.

  That smile, though. “Hi, Beautiful.” The way the words slip from his lips without a second thought makes my heart beat speed up. I can hear the carefree side of Rhett that I’m so drawn to every time he laughs. The kind of man I could see in my life long term. A man somewhat similar to the way my father was. “I should’ve called you and I’m deeply sorry that I didn’t—”

  “It’s okay—”

  “No, no it’s not.” He turns toward me, and he still looks larger than life curled up on my love seat. Matching his position, our faces are just inches apart, but our eyes are boring into each other like I don’t recall ever doing before. Not like this. “It’s my brother. I had to take him to a treatment facility in Pasadena.” I see him struggling with the confession, but I just wait for him to tell me what he wants to, when he is ready. “Alcohol. Years and years of alcohol.”

  “I’m glad he’s getting help.”

  His sharp almost cold laugh hits me. “This is the fourth time he’s been in rehab. I just keep hoping that each time will be the last time. This time it’s gonna stick, ya know?”

  I nod, reach over, and take his hand in my own. Honestly? I have no idea what to say. I have nothing that would make this any better, so I just let him know that I’m here for him. Knowing that he didn’t call because he was dealing with such shit, I feel guilty for the piss poor attitude I’d flung at him most of the night. This is all so new; I’m lost and more than a little confused. I haven’t been interested—really interested in a man in such a long time.

  We spend the next few hours talking. Yeah, talking. He tells me everything about Ryan and how they are all each other has left. My mother is alive, but I can still relate. She’d gone on with her life after my father died and rarely looked back and certainly not at me. Of course, I have Rain, and quite honestly, she feels like all I have left of my once happy family. I wish we were closer though.

  When I think Rhett can’t get any better, somehow I end up in his arms. There’s just something when a man has his arms around you and pulls your body against his. I feel fragile; I feel delicate in his embrace, and I know I’m neither. It’s a feeling I didn’t know I craved until his strong arms press me tightly against his chest.

  Some time in the early morning, a pain sending stabbing jolts runs through my neck, the effects of sleeping at an odd angle on the love seat. Planning on waking Rhett up, he surprises me by mumbling in my ear. “Where are you goin’?”

  “My neck is killing me.” The next words outta my mouth surprise even me. “Wanna move to the bed?” He says nothing but releases the death grip he’s had on me for the last couple of hours. Getting up, he helps me to my feet, and then proceeds to lead me down my own hallway, to my own bedroom. I almost tell him which door when I remember he’s the one who helped Nate put my bed back together on moving day.

  Neither of us says a word as we kick off our shoes and crawl beneath the com
forter. It’s light outside, and the birds are chirping to beat hell but we’ve hardly slept. Before I can even ask him, he says, “Can I turn on this fan over here? I like the noise.” My giggle comes out before I answer him. “What’s so funny?”

  “I always sleep with that fan on.”

  “It’s a sign,” Rhett says and as soon as the fan is on, his arms are wrapped around me again. What’s funny? It’s all so comfortable. Rhett here in my house, here in my bed, with his arms around me. All of it just…fits. I wonder briefly if he falls asleep with a smile like the one I feel on my lips.

  Chapter Eleven

  **Rhett**

  It’s the first night that we both have had off in over two weeks, and I’m dyin’ to spend it with the woman that has engulfed my whole being. Skye. Between the club and her part-time job at the diner, we’ve been seeing each other here and there when we can, but it hasn’t been enough. At the same time? It’s probably been a blessing in disguise.

  I’m determined to do things differently with her, than I have in the past with other women. Skye is unlike any other woman I’ve been with before. My fear is that I’m going to fuck this up somehow, and that’s the last thing I want.

  I’ve never known a woman quite like Skye before. She’s funny, feisty as hell, and has this confidence: when she walks into the room she owns it. Even at the club, nobody would confuse her for one of the dancers, but nobody would question if she fits in either. She just does. I see nothing or nobody else when she’s in the vicinity. I’ve never had these feelings before. It’s as frightening as it is exciting. One minute I want to run from them and the next I want to whisper them into her ear just to see if she feels the same. A spell, that’s what it has to be, I swear. She’s magical.

  Tonight, we are going to picnic on the beach. Yeah, romantic of me, right? I know. Skye makes me want to do things I’ve never done before. These last two weeks we’ve talked until we fall asleep. That’s something new too. Watched a couple of movies, played some Call Of Duty: Advanced Warfare. She’s a gamer chick. Score, right? I thought so too until she started collecting intel that I had no idea how to get and received bonus upgrade points. I’ve had the damn game for months and haven’t been able to get the weapons she had in minutes. Who knew a virtual ass whooping would be such a turn-on?

  I kissed her the morning after our first talk about Ryan. Nothing but understanding, she didn’t question me or push for more, and maybe that’s why it was so easy to open up to her. Talking to Skye just felt right. I hadn’t slept with a woman—actually slept as in sleep and not fucking in…forever. If I was in a woman’s bed, we were having us some good ol’ playtime. I want that with Skye, no doubt, but I’m not rushing this thing between us.

  I’m fairly certain there’s a thing between us. Jesus, I’ve never wanted a thing; I want one now. I’m willing to take the time to find out before I bed her. I have a feeling that once we cross that line, if we don’t combust into flames, we’ll be set on repeat for weeks, hell, months to follow.

  It took all my strength to pull my lips from hers that first time. I knew they’d feel like heaven. Soft, full, and so right pushed against mine. She even had this taste that was all Skye; sweet and tangy all rolled up into one. We’ve kissed many times since then. I can’t get enough of that mouth. Although, that’s as far as we’ve gone. There’s still so much more I want to know about her, and I’m enjoying every minute of learning exactly who Skye Briar Blake really is. The more I learn, the more I love.

  Every time Skye is nearby, my cock does a little—wait, a not so little, happy dance. Christ, it’s like I’m a teenager again. I hadn’t had so many unexpected and unwanted boners since high school. Inhaling the smell of her is enough to kick my hormones into high gear. Never had a scent of a woman’s shampoo turned me on so much, but then everything about Skye did that. Goddamn, she always smelled so good. Her soft, sweet, subtle flower scent fills my senses, filling my head and my lungs with every breath I take.

  I’ve been in pain many nights after leaving her place in the early morning hours. But, I’m determined that we do this right. No rushing. No dash to the finish line—not when the journey there is as good as it’s been. My cock should just chill the hell out.

  Eventually, the day will come where we’ll fall into bed together and do something other than sleep. That brings up the matter of us sleeping together on more than one occasion. I’ve crawled into her bed and held her close a few times over the last couple weeks. She has to have felt my arousal pressed against her backside but who could blame me?

  Skye is everything I crave in a woman and then some. I’ve always liked my girls on the bigger side. So many curves and a lushness I can get lost in. I’m a man and I feel like strong, hard, rough—basically everything that she isn’t. It’s been hell holding back from her. I want her like Ryan wants another fucking drink. Not the best comparison, but it’s how I feel. At this point, I don’t think I could walk away from her even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to.

  She excites me like no other. By the same token, she scares the living hell outta me, I swear. The feelings she’s ignited in me are so new and so unknown. Yet, I want more—I want to feel more with Skye. The underlying fear is just there—lingering, but I won’t let it takeover. This could be my chance. She could be the one. And, that right there is why it’s terrifying. I’ve never thought in terms of forever or The One. Here I am. That’s the reason I—well, we have to take this slow, one step at a time.

  Taking it slow has definitely taken its toll on my body. I haven’t jacked off this much since I found my dad’s stash of Hustler in the garage at thirteen. I looked at that thing until the binding broke and the pages were almost unrecognizable. Sure I’ve been horny before, hello, I am a man. When the need arose, I’d find some willing woman and have a good time.

  Don’t get me wrong; my list of lovers isn’t that long, but you can say I have some experience underneath my belt…literally. Now, the thought of quenching that thirst with anyone other than the curvaceous dark haired woman turns my stomach. Skye’s got me wrapped around her finger already and you can’t even call me pussy-whipped because I ain’t got no pussy yet.

  **Skye**

  I have no idea what Rhett has planned for the two of us tonight. Part of me hopes he shows me a beautiful evening on the town and the other part hopes he takes me back to his place and fucks me until I can’t walk. For the last couple of weeks the man has had my body on fire. Rhett is like no other man that I’ve dated, hell, that I’ve known. He’s kind, considerate, and so damn sexy that it scares me how my body reacts to him. I haven’t had dry panties since I met him.

  “Hello, Beautiful, your chariot awaits,” he says as he places that big strong hand on my back, steering me down the walkway in front of my garage towards the sexy-as-hell motorcycle parked in my driveway. I find that so fucking sexy when he does that. Rhett treats me like a lady and that’s all brand spankin’ new to me. Sometimes I’m blown away by his gentlemanly ways. His Harley sits there with so much shine reflecting off the chrome it practically hurt to look at.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying since I laid eyes on you.”

  Every. Damn. Time. It drives me crazy that my stomach does cartwheels every time he smiles at me like this, like he is at this moment. Swallowing my butterflies like candy, I state the obvious and instantly regret opening my mouth. “About time I get to ride.”

  He chuckles. “Oh really?”

  Now or never. “Yes, really.”

  He stares at me but says nothing and I know he’s trying to decipher my comment. Yes Rhett, I’m not talking about the bike. Kissing my finger, I place it on his lips.

  “Duly noted,” he says, slipping his sunglasses from the top of his head to cover those stunning emerald eyes. Handing me a helmet, he helps me buckle it after getting it on.

  I can no longer control the smile that spreads across my face. How long has it been since I’ve been
this excited? The anticipation of riding with Rhett—just spending time with him has me grinning like a fool.

  Reaching past me, I try like hell to ignore the spark I feel when his skin barely grazes mine. I’m like a live wire after the last couple of weeks of spending time with him, thinking of him, and even more so from the moments I’ve spent kissing him. He pulls a leather jacket from one of the saddlebags on the bike and holds it for me to slip my arms in. Surprisingly, it fits—well kinda. Not that I could zip it if my life depended on it but it’s on at least.

  “My jacket never looked so good.” I heard the words, watched his mouth say them but the compliment was lost on me. All I could focus on is how seriously sexy he looks. All bad boy in a plain black t-shirt, worn jeans that were a size or two too big which meant that studded black leather belt wasn’t just because it was smoking. I watch as he straddles the bike and kicks up the kickstand. “C’mon, let’s ride.”

  Without giving myself time to be self-conscious about being too heavy for the bike or worry about being plastered against him, I hop on behind Rhett. This ain’t my first rodeo on the back of a Harley. When I wrap my arms around him and hold on, I hear him growl.

  “Hang tight, Beautiful.” Pulling my feet up on the pegs on either side of the bike, I not only feel the power between my legs but from Rhett as he maneuvers the bike with the weight of both of us upon it. Within minutes, we’re on the highway and not one ounce of fear appears when he bobs and weaves between vehicles, handling it with a grace that’s truly awe-inspiring.

  The rumbling of the motor is as hypnotic as the wind blows my hair hanging well below the helmet. When his right hand connects with mine, I know that he’s still completely competent handling the motorcycle one handed. We ride in silence except for the passing wind song and I’ve never felt more alive. When he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles I melt. This man is too perfect.

  And that right there? Is the moment I let doubt start to intrude on my thoughts regarding this very man. When something is too good to be true it probably is. No, I will not do this! Pushing my imposing thoughts aside, I focus on Rhett and the way he handles the bike with a finesse I would’ve never imagined from such a brute of a man. Not that I should be surprised he’s been insanely gentle with me…a little too gentle with me.