by Anthology
“What about the toys?” Jayden slurs as he tries to stay awake.
Batty sits down on his bed again. “What do you want do with them, bud?”
“Give them to the kids that get to see Christmas.”
For the first time in a long time, I think I might cry. I gently give Jayden a hug, his arms too tired to return the gesture. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
“I’ll never forget you, Robin.”
I smile shakily. “I’ll never forget you, little dude.”
I leave before I lose it, intending to just walk away. “Wait, please.”
I turn to see Jayden’s mom holding my purse out to me. Totally forgot that thing. “Thanks.”
“No.” She shakes her head and puts a hand to her heart. “What you did, both of you . . . I can’t tell you what this meant to him.”
I shift uncomfortably. “It was my pleasure.”
“Our pleasure,” Batty says as he exits the room. We shake hands with the parents before walking side by side to the elevators. I’m lost in feelings that are swirling. A confusing tornado of too many things at once. I don’t realize we’ve made it to the parking garage until he speaks.
“You need a ride?”
I look to the right at my car then to the left and up to meet his eyes.
“Yup.”
Chapter Five
SUNDAY
As soon as we get in the car, Batty takes off his mask. I almost laugh out loud. Holy. Shit. If this car was bigger I probably would have been in his lap with the next breath. No, I definitely would have. Instead I pull my green mask off of my eyes. Batty looks at me and starts the car, peeling out just as fast as before.
I can’t stop looking at him. His cheekbones are high, and little indents on his forehead are turning slightly red. His hair is messy, a light brown tinged with blond, and spiky. He bites his lip slightly as he takes a corner, and I feel myself clench. Oh my God. Please let this go where I hope it’s going.
At a stoplight he looks at me for the first time. “I need to know where you live.”
Duh. Snap out of it. “Malibu.” That’s all I can remember right now. I have about an hour to come up with the rest.
He doesn’t say anything else as he rumbles through the city. This car, with his looks, about melt my panties by the time we get to my house. Wait, I don’t wear panties unless I’m sleeping.
I have to resort to hand gestures to point right and left, tapping on my window or to his side after so many wrong turns and getting a growl. I want that particular sound in my bed, not this tiny car.
Finally we pull up to my house. The engine gets turned off and I can barely breathe. He doesn’t say anything so I step out of the car, bending down to get my purse. Stupid thing. When I straighten I squeak when I see him on the other side of the door. Jesus he moves fast.
We move to the door and I get the keys in the lock with deep concentration and sigh when it pops open. I hear a faint beep but don’t pay attention. I turn back to Batty.
I watch his eyes taking in my features. Eyes, cheeks, nose, hairline—I wonder briefly what it looks like. I’m not in the habit of putting my hands through it because it’s usually tangled, but I left it clean for the hospital visit—and finally my lips. His eyes seem to snag on them and don’t move away.
“Are you . . . goodnight,” I choke out. Batty breathes in through his nose before seeming to hold it. I notice because I can see his black shirt rise and not go down in my peripheral as I hold his eyes. His jaw clenches, triggering muscles I didn’t know could be visible.
“Not yet.”
As his mouth crashes into mine and he lifts me up, I whisper, “Oh thank fuck.”
His tongue is dueling with mine before we cross the threshold. When my back hits the wall, I wrap my legs around his waist and try to get as deep inside of him as I can.
Batty’s hands move from my ass to my head, tilting me the way he wants. “What is that?” he asks into my mouth. That, would be a very hard yes please from me. “What is it?” His mouth leaves mine, and I whimper. A sound I’m certain I’ve never made in my life, but there it is. I try to get that mouth back, but his hand clenches on my jaw. “The beeping. Is it the alarm?”
Fucking what? Then I hear it. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem willing to carry me over to the offending box of noise getting louder by the second, so I unlatch from him and walk over to it. And stare. Blink. What’s the code?
“You want to turn that off?” he rumbles, and I can feel it against my chest. I close my eyes.
“Yes.”
His hands move under my shirt and over my stomach. “Now?”
“Yes.”
One of his hands move up while the other ventures down, pulling me against him. I grind my ass into his erection. “Oh God, please fuck me.”
“I’m trying, baby.” Suddenly he’s gone. What? No! “You have to turn it off first.”
Bullshit piece of technology. Why are you thwarting me?! I tap some numbers, not even really seeing them, I’m just going through the motion. Blissful silence. I sag in relief an instant before I’m spun around and hitting the wall again.
“That was a stupid thing you did,” he grounds in my mouth. I roll my hips.
Suddenly my brain is turned on. I’m thinking about too much. Tonight and everything that came with it.
“It worked.”
He hums into my mouth, then slips my shirt over my head. Our mouths crash together again, teeth nipping, lips sucking. “How did you get the toy store to close?”
He unsnaps my bra with a flick. “Called on the way to the garage.” I push with my legs to get the space between us to grab his shirt and lift.
“Who was the villain?” I gasp as he hits my clit perfectly.
“Dad,” I get in return against my nipple.
“Fuck me,” I say as I pull him by his hair closer to me. I feel his mouth open wider as he sucks deep, then releases with a pop.
“I’m trying.” He shoves one hand down my jeans to grab my ass, pulling him sharply against him.
“Where are the toys going?” I ask as my hands roam over taut muscles. I swear I can feel each individual one as they flex over his shoulders.
“The hospital. The poor. You’re thinking too much.” He pulls away from the wall, moving those silky lips away from me to look around. I see when he spots the stairs and heads that way. I figure he’s a smart guy, probably has the layout of the place, and grind my pussy into his hand, latching onto his neck, the only thing I can reach.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles as he takes the stairs two at a time, collapsing to his knees half way up. Every single step digs into my back, but my focus is on him. He’s taking off my jeans, peeling them away because they’re so tight and over his shoulder they go.
“God, I fucking knew it.” He’s staring at me, and I don’t know exactly what he means. Maybe the fact I’m not wearing underwear. Maybe being shaved bare. The point is he’s still got his jeans on when I’m naked. I grab for his belt buckle, but he’s lifting me at the same time, barely catching my upper half before I slam back to the stairs because I don’t have a grip on him. Besides my legs. They aren’t letting go anytime soon.
I quickly fix my arms to wrap around his neck and flex my stomach to help him out, practically climbing him to get to his ear. He’s so big. “Fuck me,” I whisper in his ear.
When he gets to my bed, it doesn’t matter how hard I’m holding him, he rips me away with seemingly little effort and I bounce on the bed.
“Fuck me. I’m fucking trying,” he says, all annoyed. It just makes me wetter.
“Then what are you standing there for?” I almost smile at the growl I get, but it’s not against me where I can feel it and that’s no good.
I spread my legs, making it real easy for him. He watches me as he unbuckles his belt, stripping it from the hoops with a hiss. My hands move to my nipples, rolling them as he undoes the button and finally, finally, his zipper.
“Demanding little thing,” he grits out as he pushes his jeans and underwear down.
“You have no idea,” I whisper as he’s exposed to the moonlight over the ocean, let in by the wall of windows. Oh, the things I could do to him.
He shoves my legs wider, my ass lifting with the pressure. His eyes go from my exposed center to my face before he licks his bottom lip. “This what you want, baby?”
He rolls his cock against me, and I try to push back. The position doesn’t lend me much movement. Fuck, he has me pinned. “Fuck. Yes. Condom. Hurry.” I’m down to simple sentences.
“Who’s going to fuck you, baby?” he asks as he slides against my folds. What? Thinking is all too impossible when he hits that spot. “Is it Batman? Is that who you want to fuck you so bad?”
“What? No.” I finally realize my arms aren’t constrained and roll up to grab his head, bringing it down to my lips. “Batty. Not Batman,” I say into his mouth, sliding my tongue into his mouth.
He sucks my tongue, moving to my lower lip, and I feel his teeth graze me as he lets go, pulling away. “Alright, baby. Hold on.”
I don’t have a hold on in me except that he’s reaching for a foil packet already on the bed. When did that get there? Who cares?
One second he’s rolling it down, the next he’s an inch deep. I gasp, it’s been so long. He grabs my thighs again, pushing them back against my chest. I widen them further, my muscles straining as they slide off of my ribs bringing him deeper. He pulls back slightly before pushing back in on a delicious groan.
“This what you want?” He pulls back before fully seating himself inside of me. My nerves explode when his pelvis hits my clit.
“Yes! Yes, yes, please. More.”
“More?” he asks, pulling almost all of the way out of me before slamming into me with a slap, his thighs meeting my ass forcibly. I scream as goosebumps break out on my skin.
“Again.”
He lets go of my legs to tangle in my hair, pulling his fists taut. I mean, as his chest abrades my nipples. Then he gets to work. Fucking me. He fucks me into the mattress. It’s hard and powerful. Luscious and smooth.
“What do you want?” he rasps against my cheek.
I move my hands to his back, nails digging into flesh. “Everything.”
“Not everything. Not yet,” he gasps, pulling away from me. Breaking that delicious friction he has with my chest to pull my thighs back to the bed.
His pace speeds up, so fast I can only stare, my eyes wanting to close but I can’t miss a second. Then he pulls me farther up, my ass and lower back in the air and I explode.
My eyes slam shut, my body arching, thrashing as he holds me down.
“Fucking, yes, yes, give it to me, baby,” he gasps between thrusts as I feel him harden impossibly further, then pulsing inside of me.
I expect to take his weight after he comes, but he rolls to the side. My legs move more slowly. Sore. I am definitely going to be sore tomorrow.
He gasps beside me, lying on his back. One hand is over his head, bicep bulging. Fuck, can I keep him?
As if he hears the thought, he sits up with another groan, getting off the bed. He disappears in the bathroom, and I try to regulate my breathing. Getting rid of round one for two? I may be ready for that. Maybe.
But when he comes back, it’s not to the bed, but his clothes. I sit up and watch silently as he pulls first boxer briefs, then jeans over his muscular thighs. Finally he turns to me and licks his lips, his hands on his hips.
“What’s your name?”
God. Damn it. Way to ruin the mood. What did I really think I was getting here? I knew but it’s always a wake-up call.
“Sadie.”
With a single chin lift, he’s gone.
Chapter Six
WEDNESDAY
Later that week I was back at the shrink’s office.
“So it went well?”
I shrug, my necklaces jingling together.
“You had fun? How was it seeing the kids?”
I huff out an annoyed breath. “It fucking sucked. What do you want me to say?”
“Did you get any perspective about your life?” she keeps digging.
“I don’t know, Doc. It seems to me that life is just unfair all-around. Everybody gets a raw deal.”
She motions to me with her hand. “But you have millions. You aren’t struggling to eat. What do the kids have that can be seen as a positive?”
I want to say something completely shocking just to upset her, like that they’re spared from living the rest of what is sure to be a hard life. But I can’t do it when I think about little Jayden. I wish he would get to experience teenage angst and broken hearts. What did he get that was positive?
Batman and Robin.
Fuck.
I had pretty much convinced myself that I wasn’t going back there. Yeah, it was fun and the sex was smokin’ but I didn’t think Batty would be very appreciative of a one-night stand coming back to stalk him. Then my mind started turning to all of the other kids who were dying. All of the other ways to make those kids smile, despite their situations.
Fine. I would go, and if he wasn’t there, I would stay.
My phone vibrating in my pocket brought me back to the room. I ignore it and look to the doc. She’s observing me in that way that professionals do when they’re trying to diagnose you.
“What was the question?”
She lifts a shoulder. “Never mind. Are you going to get your phone?”
“Isn’t that rude?”
She almost rolls her eyes. “When have you ever worried about being rude, Popper?”
That’s true. What the hell’s wrong with me? I pull out my phone and look at the text.
Doucher’s Sec: If your afternoon is free, Mr. Finnigan would love for you to come to his offices, Miss Dinah. 3 PM.”
I hit delete and slide the phone back in my pocket. After going through my manager, then my publicist, and finally my cell phone, they realized I would never call them back, much less pick up the phone. As annoying as the texts were, the name I saved her number under always brought a smirk to my face.
“Have you spoken with your boss?”
Damn perceptive woman.
“No.”
“Your contract is coming up for renewal. The band is going to have to sit down soon to go over it. Are the other band members as reluctant as you are to go in?”
I laugh humorlessly. “They’re too high to think for themselves. Their babysitters just tell them where they need to be.”
“And your manager?”
I glare. “He doesn’t boss me around if he knows what’s good for him.”
“So you answer to no one?”
I lean forward in my chair, my usual leather jacket creaking. “I’m twenty-one years old. I don’t answer to anyone.”
“So you do whatever you want and damn the consequences?”
“Exactly.”
She flicks her fingers, looking so calm while I’m getting more heated by the second. “So you can go hit band members, audience members, paparazzi, and expect people to just deal with it?”
I don’t like her tone, or her smug attitude so I stand and make my way to the door. “Time’s up,” I say right before I slam the door behind me.
SUNDAY
What a fucked week. I’ve dealt with my asshole band members, my annoying manager, and got reamed out by my publicist. The texts have been bumped up, coming from the douchebag’s secretary every other day now. I’m feeling suffocated, and the thought of going on tour for six months with four guys is enough to make me want to walk into the ocean. The waves aren’t even soothing to me anymore.
The thought of more stress, more drama in my life, has me waiting until it’s almost too late to get to the hospital. Going without eye makeup makes me feel just as naked as last weekend, but the mask helps immensely.
As I walk out of the elevator and run my hand over my ponyt
ail, I hear the sharp snap of my heels echoing in the halls. I needed to feel a little more badass given the possibility of seeing Batty again.
Alyse watches me walk down the hall, her eyes show a knowing look, but I have no idea what she thinks she knows. I hold out my ID between two fingers, ready to go this time.
As I sign in on the volunteer’s sign-in sheet, I see a scribble on the line above, and the time written down. Glancing up at the clock I see whoever it was came in almost an hour ago. Giving up on trying to decipher the scrawl, I grab the hospital badge and clip it to the end of my shirt and stuff my driver’s license in the black hole that is my purse, knowing already that I’ll regret it later.
As the double doors slide open, I walk purposefully past the Christmas lights held up with blue tape toward the crowd in the common room. Parents, nurses, and little patients are all around several Christmas trees that are getting decorated simultaneously.
Batty is busy lifting a little boy to place the star at the top of a tree, his biceps bulging in his black shirt with yellow logo. My stomach clenches as I have a flashback of him pinning me down, powering into me. He sets the boy down with a little grin, immediately bringing his eyes to mine.
“Robin. I wasn’t sure you could make it.” Fuck. That voice. I could probably come right here if he said a bad word in that rumble. I shift from one heel to the other and lick my lips.
“Had to take care of a problem. What are we doing here?” I walk around to watch kids cutting out snowflakes from folded paper, the smaller ones gluing little strips of paper together in a chain.
“We’re making it pretty for Christmas,” comes a little voice. My eyes track it to a little scarf covered head and big tired eyes. The man beside her looks almost as exhausted as what I assume is his daughter. He can barely keep his eyes open and has deep bags under his eyes.
“You’re making it beautiful. What can I do to help?” As I’m sitting down, I catch Batty’s eyes tracking my movement. I tilt my head subtly to the dad and focus on the little girl. “What’s your name?”