Looking for Trouble

by Victoria Dahl

  “All right. I’ll save the next one up for a while.”

  He nodded. “You want to come out with me today? I’m just riding the fence. You loved that when you were little.”

  “I can’t. I’ve got work.” She’d have to reconstruct her face again and try to look dignified for her visit to Jean-Marie’s office. If she could’ve stayed and rode the fence with her dad, she’d have been the happiest girl in the world. But she wasn’t a girl anymore. She was far past it. She had to start facing up to that.

  She gave her dad a long hug, then watched as he took on her role and found a portable mug to pour her coffee into. He even wrapped up one of the rolls she’d made the week before and stored in the fridge.

  “Thanks, Daddy,” she whispered as she took her care package. Just this small thing was different. A signal to her that he didn’t need her.

  He didn’t need her.

  She said it to herself as she got in her car and headed back to town.

  It felt awful, but it was the truth. She’d tried to make herself indispensable and she’d failed. But if she’d failed, and he’d still loved her for all these years, then...

  Sophie took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  She’d wanted this her whole life. To know that he loved her no matter what. And to be free to fly and know he’d be there if she fell.

  Oh, God. She could do that. She could leave and it would be okay, because he said it would be.

  And sometime in the past two days, she’d finally realized something important. She didn’t have to fear turning into her mother. Not in that way. Her mother had never meant to leave at all.

  So now what? She could walk into work without fear of being fired, because she could move on. Move away. Do something different. Her relief was braided up with fear, but she felt a little stronger already. A little more herself.

  If she ever saw Alex Bishop again, she’d have to thank him. He’d hurt her, but he’d told her the truth, at least. He was the first one to see through her so clearly.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ALEX’S MOTORCYCLE WAS in his mother’s driveway.

  A long day on her best behavior at the library had left Sophie feeling too exhausted to care about anything, or so she’d thought, but at the sight of that bike, she slowed her car and stared.

  He was still in Jackson.

  She saw his shadow move past the front windows and put her foot to the gas to scoot by before he saw her. She’d told him to fuck off. That was a fairly definitive declaration. She couldn’t sit outside his house and moon over him now.

  But she felt guilty as she pulled into her carport. She’d judged him and thrown his flaws at him like weapons. She’d tried to hurt him for hurting her. But she was just as screwed up as he was. Just as damaged by everything they’d lived through. Maybe more so, because as she’d made her way through her day, she’d realized that she’d spent her whole life making up for something her mother hadn’t even done. Worse, she’d known that for a year now. That her mother hadn’t walked out, she hadn’t abandoned anyone, she’d just died.

  So what was Sophie trying to prove?

  Alex’s experiences had been real, not imaginary. He hadn’t woven his fears out of thin air, they’d been drummed into him by his own mother.

  Sophie could talk to him about it. She could apologize for her anger. But what would be the point? There was no reason to try to improve their relationship when he’d leave tomorrow or the next day and she’d never see him again.

  She dropped her purse on a chair and kicked off her heels and tried to pretend the idea didn’t make her want to cry. She felt so close to him, so connected, but there was so much she didn’t know about him and never would. His favorite movies, his favorite foods, what he was like to come home to after a long day. She just wanted a few of those things with him. Moments that would make him more real when he was gone.

  Maybe she would call him when she made it to California. Because she would make it. Soon.

  A soft knock broke through her thoughts. She swung around and stared at the door. It could be him. But it wasn’t. He’d never knocked like that before. He didn’t know how to be tentative. She told herself to stop hoping and went to open the door.

  “Hi,” Alex said. He held the gray kitten carefully to his chest.

  She swallowed and didn’t speak. He looked tired, but the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the stubble that covered his jaw only made him look sexier. When she didn’t say hello, he wrapped his fingers around the kitten’s paw and waved it. “Pastel says hello, too.”

  Jesus. Was he trying to kill her?

  “Please don’t ask me to steal your mom’s cat again.” She had to fold her arms to keep from reaching for Pastel when she meowed plaintively.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “that was a mistake, but I’m hoping you can take Pastel for a few more days.”

  She shook her head.

  “You were right, Sophie. There was something wrong. My mom will be in the hospital for a while.”

  Sophie gasped and took the kitten from him, then backed quickly away so Alex could come inside. “What happened?”

  “She collapsed. We took her to the hospital yesterday. Apparently she hasn’t been taking care of herself. She hasn’t been eating.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “She’s got a vitamin B deficiency, which can cause psychological problems. Have you ever heard of that?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, you were right. She really didn’t know who you were that day you found her here. And her behavior for the past few weeks... That was probably because of the vitamin issue, too.”

  “Wow,” she breathed. “She doesn’t really hate me?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t get attached to that idea.”

  “Ha.” She shook her head and snuggled the kitten as it curled against her chest and began to purr. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m tired. I spent the night at the hospital with her, and then spent part of the day trying to find the things she wanted me to bring to her hospital room. But the kitten... Do you think you could watch her for a little while longer?”

  Sophie tucked her face into the warm fur. “I guess so,” she said, resisting the impulse to cry, “You’ll never take her from me!”

  “Thank you,” he said quietly. “And thanks for worrying about my mom. If it weren’t for you, I’d have already been three states away.”

  She nodded. “What are you going to do?”

  He sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I don’t know.”

  Sophie tipped her head toward the couch without even thinking about it. “Want a beer?”

  “Fuck yes.”

  She handed the kitten over and went to the fridge to get them both beers. Then she grabbed two more. She didn’t know about him, but she thought she might down her first in one long draw. Her mouth watered at the thought.

  “Thanks,” he said when she handed him a beer. The kitten curled up on his lap. Sophie wished she could forget everything else and do the same.

  “I need to apologize,” she said. “For the other night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

  “I deserved it.”

  “No. You were right. I talked to my dad. He doesn’t need me, he just thought I needed him. I guess I did.” She finally tasted her beer, hoping to swallow her welling tears away. By the time she was halfway through the beer, she felt better.

  Alex’s hand touched her knee. “I shouldn’t have said it the way I did. I’m not very good at helping out. But I guess you know that.”

  “You’re helping your mom right now.”

  He shook his head. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  “That doesn’t matter. You’re trying. And you were trying the othe
r night. I just didn’t want to hear it.”

  “So we were both right? Just not about ourselves?”

  She smiled. “Maybe that’s how most people are.”

  “Most fucked-up people anyway.”

  He opened his second beer and finally relaxed into the couch, his head dropping back, eyes closing.

  “What’s going to happen with your mom? Will she be okay?” Sophie asked.

  “I think so. She’s already doing better today with some hydration and supplements. But she’s got arthritis, too. I think that’s why she stopped using the second level of her house. The first floor is a mess.”

  “But she’ll get better?”

  “Yes. She’ll be able to go home in a few days. I don’t know what will happen then. Her place needs work.”

  She watched him. Studying the blunt eyelashes against his cheek, and the shape of his nearly smooth skull, and his wide mouth. “When are you leaving?” she asked, hating the way her voice went rough at the idea.

  “I don’t know,” he rasped. “I have to be in Alaska in three weeks. I can’t stay.”

  “You could stay for a little while.”

  His eyes opened. He turned his head to watch her, but didn’t say a word.

  “You could just help until she’s better.”

  He still didn’t say anything, and Sophie felt like squirming. Could he hear the selfish thread wound into her words? That she wanted him to stay? Even if he didn’t want to?

  He sat up a little and took a swig from his beer, then he kept his eyes on the bottle. “I don’t know them, Sophie.”

  “Who?”

  “My mom. My brother. They’re family. I’m supposed to know them better than anyone in the world, but they’re strangers. I don’t remember my mom any way except sick. And my brother... We both grew up after I left. I don’t know what kind of man he is. He doesn’t know me. I feel like I just met him.”

  “So stay,” she whispered. “Stay and get to know them.”

  He frowned at the bottle, not looking convinced.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” she said.

  That caught his interest. He turned to meet her gaze.

  “If you stay here for three weeks, if you get to know your family again and stop running so far and fast...I’ll plan my first trip.”

  His eyebrow rose.

  “A big one,” she said. “California. The coast. Maybe I’ll even go all the way up to Seattle.”

  “Yeah?”

  She smiled at the surprise in that one word. “Yeah,” she answered. “You learn how to stay, and I’ll learn how to go, and maybe we’ll actually figure out how to deal with life.”

  “That seems like a big leap.”

  Sophie laughed. “I guess I’m a dreamer.”

  “It also sounds like we’d be moving in opposite directions.”

  Did he say that because it would bother him? “I won’t be leaving right away.”

  “But I’m going to Alaska afterward. I’d miss your California trip, and I already promised to show you my favorite cove.”

  Relief made her eyes sting. “Maybe I could wait a little longer, then. Until you’re back from Alaska. If you wanted that.”

  “Shit, Sophie.” He reached out to touch his fingers to her jaw. His thumb brushed her cheek and she felt the wetness there. “Yes, I want that. I’d love to see the ocean with you.”

  Her smile was a little wobbly. “I thought I was never going to see you again.”

  “I can’t imagine not seeing you again,” he whispered, then he leaned slowly toward her.

  Sophie closed her eyes and waited for his kiss. When it came, it was gentle and slow and sweet. The hand on her face didn’t hold her still or pull her closer, it just touched her, his fingertips sliding over her jaw and then her neck until she shivered and pulled back.

  The kitten jumped down and shot them a look of irritation before walking toward the bedroom.

  “She’s jealous,” Sophie said.

  “But I’ve been cuddling her all day.”

  “Now I’m jealous.”

  He chuckled as she got up on her knees to straddle his lap. She kissed his smile and felt his hands settle on her hips. She took her time tasting him, first his lips, then the seam of his mouth, then his tongue. His hands tightened. She eased her hips back, just to force him to pull her closer.

  Yes. She liked that. When she tried to pull back again, he held her tight to him, his fingers digging into her. Sophie’s heart sped as she kissed him more deeply and ran her hands down his arms, feeling his hard muscles flex as he held her still.

  He moved one hand lower on her hip and pushed her black skirt up until he could slide his fingers around her hip and under her panties. She was almost innocent today. Cotton panties and no stockings. But he didn’t let that fool him. This time, when she tried to slide back, his whole hand cupped her ass cheek and gripped her.

  “Oh,” she gasped into his mouth. She needed this so much. His other hand pushed into her panties and slipped between her legs to touch her. She jerked against him and tore her mouth from his to cry out.

  “Why do you like to make me rough, Sophie?”

  Oh, God. She shook her head. She didn’t want to say it. She just wanted him to do it.

  “You want me rough?”

  She nodded.

  “Tell me why.”

  “No,” she breathed. “No.”

  The fingers that had been stroking her shoved deep inside her body.

  “Tell me,” he insisted. “Do you want to be punished?” His other hand rose to twist into her hair. Hard. “For wanting it so much?”

  She tried to nod, but he twisted her hair harder. “Yes!” she finally cried out. “Yes.” His fingers eased their hold, and his other hand slipped free of her body to stroke her clit.

  “Oh, God,” she breathed, working herself against his fingers. She was so turned on. So wet and swollen for him already.

  “I’ll punish you, Sophie,” he murmured close to her ear. She shivered as his mouth brushed her neck. “I’ll treat you like a whore.”

  She could barely control her breath now. Yes. That was just what she wanted.

  “I’ll fuck you hard. Is that what you want?”

  She nodded.

  “Tell me.”

  “Yes.” She could barely get the word past her tight throat. “I want it hard. Please.”

  His hands were on her blouse then. He gripped both sides and ripped it open, tearing the fabric and sending buttons scattering. She cried out and her heart pumped so hard it shook, and suddenly she was turning, falling. Her back hit the couch and he was over her, shoving up her bra. His mouth was on her breast, then his teeth on her nipple.

  “Yes,” she said, gripping his head, feeling the rough stubble beneath her hands and against the sensitive skin of her breast.

  He shoved her skirt up to her waist, then tore her panties down as he knelt on the floor between her legs. Books slipped off the coffee table when he shoved it aside. Alex got a condom from his pocket. Sophie squirmed in anticipation.

  She didn’t have to wait long. The head of his cock slipped along her pussy, making her groan with need. He fisted himself and she felt him begin to push inside. Her body resisted, but he was merciless and she was so damn wet. The pressure of it made her cry out, but he seemed to take it as encouragement. He pulled back a little, easing the tightness, and then he plunged deep.

  Sophie screamed with pleasure. God, she loved the way he fucked. She loved the way he treated her gently in every way except this. He was right. She needed it rough. Wanted to be punished. His cock filling her so deep and tight was real and good and everything she wanted.

  She stared up at him, heat sweeping through her whole body at the sight o
f him above her. He looked so dangerous. Furious. His teeth bared in a snarl as he began to fuck her. His hands slid up to her breasts. When he pinched her nipples she bucked against him in shock, then stretched out with a broken moan. Yes. His fingers twisted as he sank his cock deep and she tipped her hips up for more.

  God, he was perfect. His big hands bringing her just the right amount of pain, his muscles pressing against inked skin, and his cock a steady, invading force. She wanted him naked, but she liked him like this, too. Jeans unbuckled and unzipped, because he couldn’t wait to fuck her, he didn’t have time to strip down before he got into her pussy.

  “You need it like this, don’t you?” he growled.

  “Yes,” she whispered, eagerly meeting each of his ruthless thrusts.

  “Is this what makes you come, Sophie? Being fucked like an animal?” His fingers squeezed her nipples hard. “Being hurt?”

  “Yes,” she cried, arching up into his rough hands.

  “Good. Because I love fucking you just like this. Like you’re my personal whore.”

  Suddenly, one of his hands was on her belly, and his thumb flicked at her clit. Sophie whimpered, the pleasure so good it almost scared her.

  Her thighs began to shake. “Please,” she begged. His other hand braced her hip and he fucked her harder. “Please,” she said again, over and over. She needed it. She needed to come for him. She whispered his name.

  His thumb circled her faster, harder as he matched each stroke of his cock. She loved his body inside hers. Loved his voice telling her what to feel. Loved the way he was so big and strong and in control and she could still break him with her own pleasure. That was what he wanted. Her orgasm. Her need. Her body taking him in.

  “Please,” she said again, so close to the edge. “Please. Alex.” And then she came, screaming, arching up, her nails digging into his arms, trying to bring him with her. Another wave rolled through her, pushing another scream from her throat. She heard him curse. He fucked her harder. And then his hips were tight against hers as he grunted. His cock jerked inside her. She was floating.

  She had no idea how long they were frozen like that, bodies still joined and brains not working, but he eventually leaned in to lay his weight on her. He kissed her neck, her shoulder.