by Paige North
“That’s about right,” I say with a half smile. “I think he had coffee running through his veins.”
We remain silent and drink our coffee. I’m flooded with thoughts of Dad. Funny how he’s been on my mind a lot lately. Why is that?
“You know he’d be proud of you,” Jax says. I turn to see he’s looking at me over the top of his mug. “For how hard you’ve worked to keep this place floating. And for all the shit you dealt with otherwise.” He’s referring to himself and Asher, of course. “We’ll do the best we can to keep the bar running, but Dad never expected us to be superhuman.”
His praise is out of character, but it means a lot for just that reason. I find the usual tension I have when thinking about the bar fades a bit. We’ll sort it out somehow. I have to trust in that.
Trust. Funny how that word keeps cropping up a lot lately, too. I need to trust my brothers more, depend on them. Let them help me. I can’t carry this all on my own—they’re right about that.
And trust in Aubrey too. The way she’s trusted me. She deserves it given right back to her. Trust means not trying to control her, the way her ex did. Yes, I want her, in every fucking way I can have her, but I never want to smother her spirit or make her afraid.
Jax glances at his watch. “We have some time to kill. You assholes wanna lose a little money before we go take care of some unfinished business for Smith’s girl?”
I smirk at him. It’s been a while since I’ve raked him over the coals in poker. I move around the bar, lower three chairs at a table, and wave them over. Something about the camaraderie of us doing as regular a thing as playing cards makes me feel less alone. “Let’s do this.”
Just before six, we’re sitting in Jax’s car, staring at the coffee shop. It’s still a bit on the dark side out, and the glow of the shop is the only real sign of life so far on the street. I told him to meet there because I figured Aubrey would consider it a safe and public location, and her ex would think that as well.
Now to wait.
“What does he look like?” Asher asks from the back seat.
“Like a psycho,” Jax says. Asher slugs him on the arm, and he grunts. “Stop fucking punching me. You suck.”
I laugh. “Knock the shit off, boys. We have a job to do.”
“He’s the one who started it,” Jax murmurs, but I hear the amusement in his voice. “Oh, look. Someone’s coming now.”
I see a man in his late twenties, clean-cut and wearing a suit, walk hesitantly toward the café door. He steps inside and moves to a table. Gotta be him.
The three of us exit the car and follow him in. No one else is in the café—Jax has had “relations” with the manager and asked her to open up the shop an hour early so we could have a business meeting there.
She didn’t ask too many questions—Jax’s girls never do.
We walk inside, and when the door dings behind us, Aubrey’s ex spins around. Sees us and his brow furrows. He gives a haughty look and offers us his back, peering over the counter. “Excuse me,” he says loudly, calling out to the empty café, peering to see where the employees are.
“Are you Roger?” I ask.
His back stiffens. I can see his gaze darting around. He’s evaluating the situation. My brothers move to either side of him.
“How about we move to the back,” I tell him in a quiet voice. “We need to talk.”
Roger’s entire body is rigid. He wants to run so badly, but we have him surrounded. He lifts his chin. “I’m not bothering anyone. Just getting coffee and waiting for a friend. You folks should be on your way back to whatever hillbilly hole you crawled out of.”
Jax gives a loud, barking laugh. “That’s fucking hilarious. Hillbilly hole. This guy’s witty! I can definitely tell what Aubrey saw in him.”
At the mention of her name, her visibly startles. Studies us closer. When his gaze locks on me, I see fury unleashed in his eyes. He recognizes me.
“Oh, good. You know who I am. That saves me the trouble of having to introduce myself.” My voice is ice. My fists are clenched at my side. “Get your fucking ass in the back room or I’ll pick you up and carry you there myself.”
“And why would I want to go back there with you?” He’s trying to sound brave, but I hear a thin hint of fear in his voice.
I step closer to him, look at the face of the man who’s petrified the woman I’ve fallen for. Who’s made her life hell to the point where she had to move away from him to escape his abuse. All the rage I feel rushes to the surface. “Because we’re going to talk.”
“Fuck you,” he spits at me.
I punch him right on the nose. He gasps and holds it as blood gushes out, spattering on the floor. “Fine with me. I’d rather fight anyway. Ready to go?”
My brothers cross their arms and stand there to make sure he doesn’t try to run off.
Roger holds his nose with one hand and raises his other in the air. “Fuck. Fuck. I think you broke it. I’m going to call my lawyer.”
I grip his hair so tight it makes him cry out, and I force him to walk behind the bar then drop to his knees. Jax moves over to flip the Open sign to Closed, his back to the door.
Roger stares up at me, blood streaming down his face in thick gushes, eyes watering.
“You aren’t calling anyone,” I tell him. “If you even think of doing so, I’ll fucking wreck you so hard you won’t be able to move, much less dial a number. Any man who would hurt a woman to try to control her is a fucking dog and deserves to be put down.” I squeeze his scalp tighter, and he whimpers. “You are never to contact Aubrey again in any format. You will never contact her family or friends again. You will go home quietly, and you will stay the fuck away from Rock Bridge for the rest of your life. And if you call anyone about what happened here today, I will find you, and I will fucking kill you.”
I tilt his head up to make sure he can see how serious I am.
“No one is ever going to hurt Aubrey again. I’m protecting her now. Do you understand me?”
He swallows and swipes a hand along the bottom of his face to wipe away the blood running.
I snap his head back and bend over him. “That’s not an answer. Do. You. Understand. Me.”
“Y-yes.”
I jerk on his hair to force him to standing. “Give me your phone.”
“What?” He blinks in surprise.
I raise and pull back my other fist, and he cringes away, fumbling in his jacket pocket.
“H-here, okay, fine, just take it.” His fingers are shaking so hard he can barely hand it to me.
I release his hair, then I drop the phone and stomp on it. Crush it beneath my boot. He groans, and Jax claps. “Just to give you a little incentive to not call anyone when you drive your sorry ass home.”
I’m so tempted to beat this man senseless right now. I want to unleash everything. But I’m trying to restrain myself. I don’t want to be a man Aubrey’s afraid of. I’m her hero, not another man who uses his strength to intimidate her. And while she hates and is afraid of Roger, doing any further damage to him will only make her feel bad.
“Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind and do what I really want to do to you right now.”
Roger scrambles to move around the coffee bar counter, cupping his nose, then dashes outside. I see him struggle to open his car door. He backs out of his parking space and his tires squeal as he leaves.
“Do you think he’ll leave her alone?” Asher asks.
I sigh. “If he knows what’s good for him. Pretty sure he shit his pants when I threatened to punch him again, though.” I shake my fist out—decking him felt so good, but it did hurt my knuckles. I grab a wad of paper towels and clean the crime scene of his bloodied nose off the ground. Don’t need to freak the poor manager and baristas out when they come back. I toss the soiled paper towels.
This was supposed to be a business meeting, after all. And I suppose in some ways, that’s exactly what it was. Tying up some loose ends.
Asher laughs, and I clap him on the shoulder as we move to the exit.
The door dings behind us, and we hop in Jax’s car. He drops me off back at the bar, and I make my way up the stairs to where my girl is lying on my bed.
She is my girl if I have anything to say about it. I need this woman so badly, would do anything for her. I don’t know how, but in the span of a few weeks, Aubrey’s flipped me upside down and given me life. She’s broken me out of my darkness, shown me hope, affection. Made me feel like I’m good enough as I am.
I want her to feel the same. I want her to be mine.
I kick my boots off and strip out of my clothes. Weariness makes my bones tired. I need sleep. But more than that, I need to curl against her warm, inviting body and find my solace, my salvation, in her arms.
Aubrey is the one who saved me, who changed me.
I crack open the door. She’s breathing softly, my gray sheet tangled in her limbs. Her breasts are bare, moving in an even rhythm. Something in my heart cracks wide open. I move to her, unable to pull away. I slide against her body and cup her breasts, feel their weight in my palm.
Aubrey gives a gentle sigh and arches against me. “Smith,” she says in a whisper, stirring, and my cock pulses to life, pressing along the slit of her ass. “I missed you.” The admission makes be even more aroused.
“I missed you too.” I turn her to face me and rain kisses all over her brow, her cheeks, ending with her mouth. She opens to me, my sweet and willing Aubrey. I bury my hands in her hair—not hard. Tender. I need to feel close to her right now.
She gives a sleepy, satisfied sigh against my mouth.
“I’m falling in love with you,” I find myself murmuring on her lips.
Aubrey goes still in my arms. I see her blinking herself awake in the pale glow of morning through the slats of the blinds. “I…did I hear…” She rubs her eyes and sits up.
I sit up with her. My heart is pounding so hard I feel like it’s going to erupt from my chest. I tug her to me, needing her closer. “God, Aubrey, you don’t know what you do to me. Tell me you feel this too. That it isn’t just me.”
Her breath catches, and she reaches a shaky hand up to caress my jaw. I can’t see her eyes, but everything I need to know is in the tenderness of her touch. “I’m falling in love with you too.”
Then I’m kissing her and we fall back into bed, lost in each other.
13
Aubrey
Three Months Later
“Aunt Sylvia is gifted. Why is this pie the best I’ve ever had?” I ask as I feed a spoonful of key lime pie to Smith across the bar. I’m sitting in my stool, after the bar has closed. Jax left after finishing cleaning up for the night, so it’s only the two of us in here. “I’m glad it’s been a hit. I had a feeling everyone would want it.”
Smith gives me a wicked grin. “Well, it’s not the best pie I’ve ever had.”
I shake my head and swat at him. “You’re insane.” Insane, but I love it. We’ve been inseparable, spending as much time together as possible…and as many nights. The things we’ve experimented with—various types of bondage, clamps, spanking, even paddling—have made my toes curl with glee.
Apparently I’m into dirty shit. Who knew? I never would have guessed this about myself.
Or maybe it’s just because I’m into Smith so much that anything we do together feels wicked and fun. I watch him as he checks the taps and removes one. He’s so efficient and confident in his work. I really enjoy observing him, seeing him move with his usual prowess. No matter what Smith does, it’s sexy.
He bends over and pulls out a new tap handle, one that’s distinctly shaped like…
I laugh. “Do you realize how phallic that is?” I ask.
He raises that trademark brow at me. “Why do you think I ordered this beer?”
“Um, for its hoppy flavor? Or its exquisite mouth feel?” I tease as I move around the bar to his side.
“I’ll show you mouth feel.” Smith hauls me up to sitting on the bar, and he cups my ass to tug me close to him. Being in his arms, in his presence, feels so good, so right.
I’ve never had a man wreck me so completely as Smith has. I lean down to capture his mouth in a kiss. God, how I love this man—this hotheaded, crass, surly, protective, beautiful man. The last few months have been heaven, especially since Roger has left me the fuck alone. Thank God.
I caress his lips with mine, just a little tease, and he grips my hips tighter, a silent plea for me to give him more. But I refuse. I dart my tongue out and swipe it along his lower lip, along the seam. He groans, and then he’s spinning me to lie fully on the bar, and he jumps on top of me.
“Smith!” I cry out with a giggle. “Can the bar handle both of us being on here?”
His answering smile is so wicked it makes my pussy pulse in anticipation. “I guess we’ll find out. A little edge play for you, huh, sweetheart?”
I reach up to cup his firm ass, squeezing the globes through his jeans. My God, this man has the perfect body. He rests on one forearm to whip his shirt over his head, and I slide my hands along the lines of his tattoos. I’ve tasted each one intimately.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says as he stares at me in what looks like awe. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
My cheeks turn a little warm from the compliment. “You make me feel beautiful,” I tell him.
“That’s because you are. And you deserve to feel it every damn day.” I can see the sincerity in his eyes. The heat radiating from him. His cock bobs between us, evident even though his jeans. I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist to get him as close as possible.
“I want to feel you every damn day,” I tell him hotly.
His eyes turn dark, and I can tell he’s thinking something naughty. I feel my body erupt in tingles. God, every time he gets that look, I end up coming like crazy. I swallow and feel my breasts swell, my nipples harden. My pussy throbs with my pulse now.
Smith sits up enough to unbutton my long-sleeved shirt and tug it off me. Then my jeans follow. Both are tossed to the floor without another thought. He slowly looks me over, his hands following his gaze, his rough fingers squeezing and kneading my flesh. “I want to fuck you so badly right now.”
I arch my breasts at him and cup them with my palms, offering them to him. “Then why don’t you?”
He growls, and my bra is almost ripped off and then thrown to the ground. Last are my panties. I’m lying on the cool bar surface, shivering, hungry, needing this man inside me so much I can’t breathe for wanting him.
I’m shaking now. He adjusts my legs until my feet are planted firmly on the bar. I’m exposed to him, naked.
When his tongue hits my clit, I jump. I feel his hot hand press my lower belly to keep me in place. “Don’t you fucking move,” he growls at me. “I want you right here, that sweet pussy open and dripping wet.” His mouth goes back to licking me, and I sigh and shudder from the expert movements of his tongue.
He sucks my labia into his mouth, which makes me cry out. God, that feels ridiculously good. I want to touch him but I do as he commanded and lie still. Smith rewards me when I obey him, makes me feel so good that I want to please him as much as I can.
He laps me and I’m dripping on the table; I can feel it sliding down my crack.
“Good girl,” he purrs.
“Yes,” I moan, as he continues fucking me with his amazing tongue.
“Does getting that wet pussy eaten on my bar make you feel dirty?”
I swallow. My pulse is skittering through my limbs now. My fingers and toes tingle and my breathing is shallow. “So dirty,” I admit.
He kisses my inner thighs and draws a small portion of flesh between his teeth. Bites down.
“Oh, God, Smith. Please…”
“Please what? What do you want, Aubrey? Tell me.”
&nbs
p; “P-please…fuck me right now. I need it.”
“You’re so fucking sexy. I’m going to make you come all over my dick.” Smith takes out his cock and slides it in me, raw, and I feel every ridge and line on his perfectly bare dick, and oh God, it makes me start to thrust against it just to get it deeper. I can’t help it.
He pulls it out, pushes it inside me again, this time a little faster. He’s angled the tip so it rubs against my G-spot. “How hard do you want to be fucked?” His voice is so low I can barely hear him.
“As hard as you want to give it to me,” I find myself saying. It’s a challenge, a dare, me offering myself to him completely. Trusting him to give me what I want and need.
He groans. I feel him shift between my legs. “Oh, fuck yes.” Then he begins to pump into me, and I feel that familiar heat build in my belly. My clit is swollen and desperate to be touched. Like a mind reader, he says, “Stroke yourself as I fuck you, baby. I want to watch you pleasure yourself.”
I reach my right hand between my trembling thighs and brush my fingers on my clit. It pulses in my touch. I can’t stop moaning, arching, needing this, wanting to be his dirty girl. The waves ripping through me as he fucks me are impossible to stop. I’m bucking and stroking and squeezing my channel, and my pussy is so wet I can smell myself.
My orgasm starts to near. I pant, and Smith says, “Oh, fuck yes, give me that come. I want it. Come on my dick. Right. Now.”
My whole body is vibrating, moments from shattering apart and flying into pieces. My clit is pulsing beneath my frantic fingers, and he’s now slamming the full length of his cock inside me.
“God oh God oh God—” I arch and then as my orgasm hits me, I scream, scream, unable to bite back the enormity of sensations drowning me. It just keeps coming and coming, and I’m burning alive for Smith.
It seems to take a year for the orgasm to subside. My hands go limp, my legs sliding down the bar surface, and I gasp for air. Smith pulls the handle out of me and bursts, his cock shooting hot ropes of cum onto my lower belly.