by Leddy Harper
He grabbed my arm—more like manhandled it—and pushed me into the wall. My head hit the plaster with a hollow thud. We were now out of the hallway, in the back of the bar. People milled about around us, no one bothering to pay any attention to the way he held onto me, or how close his red, angry face was to mine. My pulse sped up, moving through my chest, into my throat, and then settling in my ears.
“Okay, you’re hurting me. Can you please let me go?”
“What the fuck was that about? Tease me, then decide to turn me down?”
“That wasn’t what happened. I just changed my mind. Now let me go.”
He growled, pressing his forehead into mine, which shoved the back of my head harder into the wall. “Changed your mind? I’m so sick of you women and your fucking cock-teasing ways. You don’t get to change your mind.”
The only thoughts that ran through my head were the warnings Bree had given me time and time again. I’d never listened to her, because I assumed I was invincible, strong enough to handle my own. I believed I was smart enough to stay safe.
You always think it’ll never happen to you…until it does.
I pushed against him, trying to fight, but he was too strong and easily overpowered my feeble attempts. I didn’t stand a chance at defending myself. I wanted to scream, get someone’s attention, but my throat wouldn’t work. Fear formed into a physical shape and wedged itself there, preventing me from making a sound. There were people around us, yet to them, I’m sure we looked like a couple of horny teens, unable to resist the urges of our bodies. When in fact, it was anything but.
I knew he wouldn’t be able to get me through the bar and out the front door, but that hadn’t offered any comfort to my frantic nerves. Especially when he glanced to the side, a sneer forming on his lips as he noticed the dark hallway a few feet away.
Panic burned deep, bringing tears to my eyes. I became frozen, unable to move or scream. The fight or flight instinct was nowhere to be found. In its place was fright, complete and utter terror that kept me rooted in place. The only movements my body was capable of making were my violently shaking limbs and the short, panicked sobs that bruised the inside of my chest. They wouldn’t even make their way out, defeating the purpose.
Why hadn’t I listened to Bree?
Why hadn’t I listened to Bentley?
It didn’t matter, because it was too late now.
My eyes squeezed closed as warm tears streamed down my face. I was a prisoner to stop them. I couldn’t move, couldn’t wipe the wetness from my cheeks. I tried to beg him to leave me alone, but I wasn’t sure anything coherent had actually come out of my mouth. Suddenly, I was spun to the side, my shoulder slamming into the wall, pain radiating through the left side of my body. A scream finally emerged, but it was hoarse and muffled, serving no real purpose.
When I didn’t feel his hold on me anymore, I brazenly looked around for Jake. I found him in front of me, cheek pressed hard against the wall, a large hand circled his neck with thick fingers digging in just beneath his jaw on either side. His eyes were wide, his face beet red, and his mouth hung open.
A shrill ring attacked my eardrums, blocking all noise around me. I tried to focus but the lights in the room dimmed. However, my attention was still riveted on the pained expression on Jake’s face. I shook my head, trying to clear the darkness away. I wasn’t sure if it was all in my head, or if my body was shutting down from the adrenaline surge. Instead of Jake holding me against the wall, my own fear was. I was a cold, shivering mess, trapped by the circumstances of my own making, and I experienced a strange sense of my mind, emotions, and body fading fast.
Once I finally pulled my attention from his wide and panicked eyes, I noticed Bentley’s mouth next to Jake’s ear. I couldn’t hear the words coming from his tight lips past the frantic rush of blood in my ears, but from the look in his eyes and the way he gripped Jake’s neck, I knew they were filled with rage and disgust.
I gaped at the sight in front of me, fear nearly crippling me, but Bentley’s presence kept me upright, kept me strong enough to not fold under the debilitating anxiety of what’d just happened—or almost happened. As soon as Bentley released his hold and stepped back, Jake crumpled to the floor, gasping for air. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, off the man that just moments ago had held me prisoner. I knew he was down and couldn’t get to me, but that didn’t stop the rolling waves of nausea in my stomach or my inability to breathe.
Out of nowhere, a warm hand grabbed mine possessively and began to pull me away. The scream that had been building in my chest finally broke free, tearing through my throat as I fought against the hold. I locked eyes with my captor. His wide, fearful eyes silenced my cries for help. And then my gaze traveled down his body to his arm, realizing the hand that held mine belonged to Bentley.
Turning around, Bentley started to walk, keeping his hold on me as he dragged me behind him until we were out of the bar. The humid summer air hit me as soon as we were through the door. It practically suffocated me. It settled over my skin, warming me like the heat of the sun. My heart slowed and my lungs were finally able to expand properly. I needed fresh air, clean oxygen. I needed to be wrapped in Bentley’s arms with the scent of his cologne to ground me. But that’s not what I got. Instead, he stopped at the passenger side of his truck and opened the door, glaring at me with narrowed eyes.
“Get in,” he commanded harshly.
His attitude had my head spinning again, this time, with confusion and regret. I needed him to comfort me, to make me believe everything would be okay. But that’s not what he did. He was angry—his dark, glaring eyes were proof of that. It made my chest ache and my throat tighten for whole new reasons.
I pulled my hand from his. He’d parked right next to my car, so when I stumbled backward, I hit my driver-side door with my back, not even flinching at the pain that radiated up my spine from the door handle. “That’s okay. I’m fine. I’ll just drive myself. Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for coming?” Venom dripped from his tone, and it humiliated me. “Are you serious right now, Sarah? I find you in a bar, trapped against a wall by a guy twice your size as he tells you that you don’t have a choice, and you choose to tell me ‘Thanks for coming’? Fucking incredible.”
“What are you looking for, Bentley? Huh? You want me to blow you to show my gratitude?” I needed to fight back in some way since I’d been powerless to do so before. So I moved nearer to him, catching the sexy aroma of his faint cologne. My tense muscles recoiled with every harsh beat of my heart. “How did you even know where I was? Were you following me?”
“My cousin was here. He told me you came in.”
“How does your cousin even know who I am?”
He ran his hand through his hair, his shoulders dropping some. “This isn’t about how I knew where you were or why I’m here. This is about you making stupid decisions, nearly getting yourself hurt!”
“I needed sex…and you wouldn’t fuck me.” I pressed my finger to his chest, but the moment my fingertip met the material of his shirt, he grabbed my hand and moved it away.
“That’s what you really want, Sarah? You want it so bad you’re willing to risk your safety?” He stepped closer to me, still holding on to my fist in his hand. He grabbed my hip, digging his fingers into me to keep me from moving away. “Does getting off really mean that much to you?”
It was as if a cloud had fallen upon me, fogging up my mind. The warmth of his body settled the nerves Jake had managed to fray earlier, his sweet cologne soothed me once again as I breathed it in, but his harsh, angry words kept my fight going. I pressed my hips into his, glowering into his eyes.
“You promised me I’d get laid last night. So I got all ready—shaved my legs, made sure I was waxed smooth.” A low grumble came from his chest as he pressed even further into me. “I even went out and bought a box of Magnum condoms. All for what, Bentley? For a fucking Hawaiian necklace?” The anger that burned through me was all
misplaced. It had nothing to do with our date the night before, and I’m sure he knew that. It didn’t come from his play on my words or his decision to keep things platonic. It had everything to do with feeling helpless, fearing what could’ve happened had he not shown up in time. Which had come from my bad decisions. I wanted someone to blame for my actions, and he was there.
His eyes grew darker as they pierced mine. His lips pressed together in a hard line, and his nostrils flared angrily. “You’re an idiot if you think I didn’t contemplate taking you up on your offer last night. And an even bigger idiot if you misinterpret my respect for rejection.”
I tried to push him away from me, but he barely budged. His words may have been meant as some kind of backward compliment, but it stung as much as a hand to my face. Even though I fought against his hold, I had not one ounce of fear in me like I had with Jake. For whatever reason, I knew Bentley wouldn’t hurt me. He was safe. I knew he wouldn’t force me or cause me any physical pain—only emotional agony by his harsh truth and dismissal. And that’s what kept me from giving into him. What kept me fighting against him. I didn’t want him to view me as weak, regardless of the position he’d found me in with Jake.
In a low tone, keeping my voice steady and even, I said, “You know what I need, yet you keep it from me—dangle it like a carrot—and then get pissed when I go find it somewhere else.”
He sneered and then spun around, pushing me forward at the same time until my body leaned into the open door of his truck, my hands braced against the seat and his hard chest against my back. I didn’t have time to do anything other than gasp before his hand cupped my sex over my jean shorts, adding pressure with his palm that caused my hips to buck against him.
“Is this what you want, Sarah?” he asked with a growl, his lips grazing my ear. His other arm wound around my body, his forearm against my chest as his hand gently grabbed my neck, tilting my head back against his shoulder.
I thrust my hips back, seeking more from him. “No.” I let go of the seat with one arm to grab his hand, leading it to where I needed it the most—inside my shorts.
His hot palm stilled against the sensitive flesh of my lower stomach, his fingertips barely beneath the waistband of my shorts. “Tell me what you need, Sarah. Say it. Beg for it. I’m not going to give you shit until I hear the words come out of your mouth.”
“Touch me. Please, Bentley. I need you to touch me.” My voice was nothing but air with a few syllables cracking through, proving to him how desperate I craved his touch.
His hand moved beneath my shorts at a slow, torturous pace. The heat from his palm scorched my skin, taking my breath away as I anticipated the path of his fingers. The moment his fingertips breached the top band of my lacy underwear, a moan vibrated in my chest, moved up my throat, and escaped past my lips.
“This is what you want?” His voice sounded just as strained as my own. He pressed his body into my back more, causing me to lean forward until my forehead landed on the soft leather of the seat in front of me. His hand slipped from my neck to my chest, grabbing my breast through my thin tank top. “If I do this for you, there’s no more bars. No more random hook-ups. No more dealing with life on your back.”
I moaned again and wiggled my hips, hoping he’d do more than tease me with his fingertips and warm hand on my pelvic bone.
“Say it, Sarah. Agree with me, and you’ll get what you want. But you have to say it.”
“Fine. I agree with you. Now please, touch me.” I hated to beg, but he had me so worked up I couldn’t do anything else. I’d promise him anything at that moment if it would’ve made him keep going.
“Say it. All of it.”
“I won’t go to bars anymore and pick up guys, I promise.”
His body curled around my back, the heat of his breath landing on my bare shoulder in reckless waves. He gripped my breast harder, searching for my nipple through the material of my shirt and bra. When he couldn’t get close enough, he frantically moved his hand beneath my shirt, peeling back the cup to my bra and pinching my hardened nipple between his fingers. The sensation made my knees weak and an airy gasp leave my lips. It must’ve affected him, too, because as soon as the air burst from my lungs, I felt his teeth graze over my shoulder before gently biting down.
“You want me to make you come, Sarah?” His words were throaty, desperate.
“Yes.”
“You need it?”
“Yes,” I repeated, more frantic than before. One-word answers were all I could give.
He moved his hand again until the pads of his fingers were pressed against my aching clit. He held it there for a moment, tormenting me, but then slowly pushed his finger through my folds until finding my soaked core. I wanted him to push it farther until I could feel his thick finger inside me. But he didn’t. He dipped just the tip in, gathering up enough moisture, before moving back to my hard nub. I wanted to complain, beg him to go back to where he was, but the way his fingers circled my sensitive bundle of nerves left me speechless.
“I need you to tell me what you like. Tell me what feels good. Don’t go silent on me now, Sarah. If this is what you want—what you need—then you have to give me something. I need to hear you.”
He was so demanding, yet handing over the control at the same time. I’d never been with a man like that before. It was either one or the other with the men before him. But it was such a turn on to hear him talk, hear the way he vocalized my effect on him through his strained voice, his ragged pants. I hadn’t even had an orgasm yet and I was already gone, my mind light and free.
“I need you in me. Put your fingers in me,” I demanded urgently, although my voice was shaken and pathetic, not at all demanding.
He pushed his hand farther down, teasing my opening with the tips of his fingers. His boot moved to the inside of my shoe, nudging it until my legs were spread wider beneath me, giving him more room to maneuver inside my shorts. The material was constricting, but it didn’t seem to be in his way, and I didn’t have enough strength to unbutton them.
Slowly, he thrust one finger inside me, and then added another, hissing against the back of my neck. He pushed them in as far as he could considering the angle of our positions and the restrictiveness of my shorts, but the heel of his palm against my clit took away the frustration caused by the shallowness of his reach.
“You wish this was my dick inside you? You imagining what that would feel like? For me to fill you up? Fuck you with my cock instead of my fingers?” His warm tongue trailed from my shoulder to the back of my ear, leaving behind a path of wetness that cooled my overheated skin.
“Yes, Bentley…” My chest heaved up and down. “I want your big, hard cock in me. Faster…please. I need more.”
Instead of giving me more, he slipped his fingers out, leaving me empty and unsatisfied. But he didn’t stop. He went back to my throbbing clit, his fingers now wetter than before, and tormented my nerves. I couldn’t breathe as the buildup took over, the ball of heat forming in my lower abdomen.
Bentley flicked my earlobe with his tongue, and then nipped it between his teeth. “Wishing this was my tongue doing this to you? Wondering what it would feel like to have my face buried in your pussy?”
“God, yes…yes.”
He twisted my nipple between his fingers while picking up the speed and torment with his others. “I want to hear my name come out of that mouth when you come. I want you to know who did this to you. Remember it. It’s not some random guy, some creep from the bar making you come. It’s me. Bentley. I wanna hear you say it.”
That’s all it took for the waves of fire and ice to flood my body, make my eyes roll to the back of my head, cause my legs to wobble on weakened knees. “Bentley…” I whispered, even my voice box too feeble to function properly. “Bentley…”
As the ripples of pleasure began to wane, the tingles slowly fading away, he ground his hips into my ass, making me feel how hard he was. His groan ripped through his chest, sending vibrat
ions through my back. “Fuck, Sarah,” he said in a rumbling whisper. His teeth sank into my neck once more before he laid two soft kisses in its place.
I felt sated, content, and at peace…and then he pulled his hands away from me and took a step back. I slowly turned around, unsure of what I’d see on his face. But the moment my gaze locked with his, the entire world stopped spinning. His eyes were filled with regret, his posture rigid. His mouth hung slack as he patiently waited to catch his breath.
I took a step forward, reaching my hands out for him. But he caught me by my wrists, preventing me from touching the spot on his chest, over his heart, where I desperately wanted to feel. I’d never felt this way after sex before, even though that’s not technically what we did. Regardless, I’d never been with any man, in any capacity, and felt this way, had this undying need to touch him, to hold him…to be near him. But Bentley wouldn’t let me do that.
Needing to get closer, I stood on my tiptoes and used his hold on my arms to pull him into me. Our lips were so close I could feel his breath pass over my face in warm waves, yet he still wouldn’t give in. Instead, he turned his face and pressed a kiss to my cheek, holding it there for an extra second.
I dropped my forehead to his chest, the weight of what had happened between us finally hitting me. He’d given me what I needed, but he wouldn’t go past that. Because it wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want me.
“I should get going,” I said on a sigh into his T-shirt, praying my tears would hold back for a few more minutes so I could leave with at least some dignity still intact. I pulled myself from his hold and tried to step around him, but I didn’t get far.
His arms came around me, locking me to his chest. The soft beat of his heart lulled me into serenity as I let him hold me. “Come with me. I don’t want you to be alone right now—you shouldn’t be alone.”
I shook my head as much as I could with my cheek pressed against his solid muscle. “I’ll be all right. Don’t worry about me.”