Thrust

by Sybil Bartel

  I strode outside and glanced up and down the street but she was gone. “Which way did she go?” I barked at the valet.

  He pointed south. “She took the first left.”

  I jogged around the corner as lightning lit up the sky like a fucking omen but I found her. Her shoulders proud, her long legs moving at a fast clip, I took in the sight of her like a starved man and relief hit my chest. I didn’t think. I went after her.

  “What are you doing?” Sharp, accusing, pissed at Jared, pissed at myself, I didn’t rein in my tone.

  “Fuck off.” Her voice caught.

  “Stop,” I commanded.

  She picked up her pace. “I’m not going to be anyone’s fool, especially not yours.”

  Completely out of my mind, I grabbed her and pushed her against the side of the building and my mouth descended over hers.

  Her gasp swallowed by my dominance, she didn’t push back.

  I devoured her. Hands gripping, tongue searching, I stroked through her mouth with a desperation I’d never experienced before. I forced a leg between hers, leaned my body into hers and frantically, single-mindedly kissed her.

  I wanted to erase the past three years and forget about the scene in the restaurant. I wanted to undo the bullshit I’d caused at her fundraiser and I wanted to be anything except what I was.

  But she didn’t kiss me back. Her body didn’t melt into mine. Her arms didn’t come around my neck. No sounds came from her throat. And I was who I was.

  My chest tight, I pulled back as I gripped her nape. I was unraveling and she was the thread. I knew what was coming but my only choice was to take it head on. “Talk to me.”

  So raw, it was almost without emotion, she spoke. “What do you do for work?”

  Investments. It was on the tip of my tongue. The lie was so practiced, I’d almost convinced myself. Three years of this life. Guys envied me. Women wanted me. I was drowning in cash and pussy. I didn’t need a goddamn thing—until twenty-four hours ago. Now I was staring at the one thing I wanted more than walking out of the Marines with both legs attached, and I didn’t speak. I couldn’t.

  “She….” Her chest rose with an inhale. “She said you weren’t working tonight.”

  Air somehow managed to move in and out of my lungs. “I’m not.”

  “But you work nights.”

  I stared into her gorgeous eyes. I could lie, tell her I stripped, bartended, hell, tell her the truth and say I used to fuck for money. I had investments, I had money. I didn’t need my clients anymore. I didn’t even want them. I could walk away from that life right fucking now. But I didn’t say any of that. Because stupidly, idiotically, I thought we had something special and I wanted more. I wanted her without having to lie. “I’m an escort.”

  Her throat moved with a swallow and her voice dropped to a whisper. “What kind of an escort?”

  My heart pounded. My mouth went dry. “Women pay me for sex.”

  She jerked back.

  I let go of her. But the memory of every single moment of being inside her felt like it was ripped out of my grasp. “Olivia.”

  One hand flew up and she started shaking her head.

  I opened my fucking mouth. “Every word I said, I meant. This isn’t casual—”

  “Casual?” She hit my chest, hard. “You fucked me! Without a condom.”

  The disgust in her voice, all over her face, it gutted me. Then the past three years swelled into defiance and pushed the wrong goddamn buttons. “I’m clean. I told you that. I’m not an irresponsible dick like the asshole who left you to walk home by yourself.”

  “Oh my God.” Tears dripped down her face. “You’re comparing yourself to him? You’re the liar. You sell yourself to anyone willing to pay for it and you think Jesse’s an asshole? You’re lying to yourself if you think that’s not fucked-up!”

  I may have withheld information, but fuck her. She didn’t know what the fuck I did, or what I told myself. “I never lied.”

  She fucking lost it. “You should have told me! You don’t go around fucking women without telling them you’re a prostitute.” She spit the last word out like she was equating me to a murderer. “I should’ve had a choice.” She pounded on her chest. “Me. My choice. But you didn’t say shit. That’s like an addict not warning someone they stick needles in their arm!”

  My temper exploded. “You’re calling me a goddamn junkie? You think I stick my dick in diseased women and fuck clients without protection? What the fuck?”

  “Oh, OH. Clients? Is that what you call it? Nice justification. Like you’re some high-priced lawyer who has clients.”

  My laugh was bitter. “I make more an hour than any lawyer, sweetness, don’t kid yourself.”

  “Ohmigod, I’m gonna be sick.” She pivoted and started to walk away.

  It only fueled my anger. “That’s it,” I taunted. “Walk away. It’s the one thing you’re good at.”

  She spun and let loose. “You don’t know me. Not one single thing. You don’t know what I’m good at or what I’m not. If you want to talk about walking away, look in the fucking mirror, you goddamn hypocrite. I didn’t throw away intimacy just to waste it on some client. I’m not some sick kinky fuck who gets off on charging money for sex. So fuck you. You did this, not me. You fucked me knowing exactly who you were. You walked away before I even stepped foot in the game!”

  She was dead on, but I hated her for being right. The moment I saw her in that penthouse, I knew she was different. I just didn’t care. I wanted to get my dick wet in her and that’s all I was focused on because I hadn’t felt anything like that for years. “I’m not the one walking away from a fully funded charity.”

  “And I’m sure as hell not some idiot who thinks I’m so good at sucking dick that I can make a male prostitute go straight. So keep your fucking money. A PTSD service dog charity backed by a male escort is the last fucking thing I want to be a part of.”

  “Then don’t partner with me. Take your fucking money and do something useful with it. And for the record, you never sucked my dick.” This time, I turned and walked away from her. I was raging fucking mad, but if I stopped for half a second to think about it, I’d realize I was only pissed at myself.

  Lightning flashing, thunder rolling, I stormed back to the valet. “The McLaren.”

  The valet jumped to attention. “Right away, sir. I put it in the garage because of the storm. It’ll be just a minute, sir.”

  He ran down the street toward the garage and my cougar client stepped out of the restaurant sans Jared.

  She glanced around. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend.” Girlfriend. What the fuck was I thinking?

  “Ah, with the way she stormed out, I thought….” She trailed off.

  I ignored her.

  She stepped up beside me. “You passed me off to your young friend.”

  “He’ll take care of you.”

  Her hand ran down my arm. “I like the way you take care of me.”

  She liked any man who took care of her. “I’m sure you’ll survive.” Where the fuck was the valet?

  “Maybe you should take me home and work off some of the tension you’re holding on to.”

  I was pissed enough to glance at her pussy then her tits. “Maybe I should.”

  She smiled. “Now you’re speaking my language.” Her hand hooked under my arm.

  I stared her down. “But I’m not going to. Want to know why?” I didn’t care about losing her as a client. I’d fucking had it.

  She dropped the fake flirting pretense and my arm and sighed. Her voice lowered to its natural cadence and she shook her head. “Look, you want advice from a woman old enough to be your mother?”

  “You’re only forty, you’re not old enough to be my mother, but go ahead.” God knows, I never got shit for advice from my own mother.

  “Go after her. Her face didn’t drop like that because she didn’t have feelings for you. A woman only looks t
hat upset when she’s in love.” She shook her head and walked off. “Stupid girl.”

  The valet pulled up with my car.

  I vomited.

  My stomach lurched and I heaved but there was nothing left.

  I’d slept with him. I’d fucked a male prostitute—without a condom—and I’d fallen for him. Fallen for everything about him, even though I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him. Oh my God, I’d trusted him.

  Another round of nausea crawled up my throat as my phone vibrated in my purse and I dry heaved. Wedged behind a dumpster in an alley, I cursed my stupidity. Lightning lit up the sky and thunder followed like the universe was casting judgment.

  Gagging at the smell of rotting food and urine and who the hell knew what else, I fished through my purse for a tissue. But what I really needed was a redo. I wanted to rewind the whole stupid weekend and undo every single decision I’d made. I didn’t want to know what it felt like to have him inside me. I didn’t want to hear his deep, commanding voice in my head. I didn’t want to know what being taken by a man like that meant. I wanted my ignorance back. I wanted the walls of grief that’d protected me from throwing my heart out there back.

  Tears dripped down my face and thunder boomed even closer.

  I told myself it was a mistake, that it was just a setback. But the second I thought the words, my heart hurt. It didn’t want that asshole to be a mistake. It wanted every way he’d held me to be real. A raindrop landed on my shoulder and I stumbled out of the alley just as a familiar sports car crept up.

  “Shit.” Shit, shit, shit. My heart pounding, I jumped back as Alex cruised past.

  Scanning the other side of the street, he didn’t see me.

  My phone buzzed again. Ignoring it, I waited until he turned the corner then I hustled as fast as I could in my stupid heels. Most every storefront was retail and I had to walk two blocks before I found a bar. As I stepped inside, the big raindrops that’d been taunting me gave way to a torrential downpour.

  I went straight to the restroom and locked myself in a stall. Taking my cell out, I ignored the seven missed calls from Alex and dialed a cab company. They answered on the first ring.

  “Hi, I need a cab at—”

  The operator cut me off. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’ve pulled all our drivers back in.”

  Wait. “What?”

  “The tropical storm was just upgraded to a hurricane. Stay safe, ma’am.” He hung up.

  A hurricane?

  I pulled up Uber. An automated message popped up. Due to hurricane-force winds, Uber services are temporarily suspended in your area….

  Thunder shook the building.

  I pulled up my weather app.

  How the hell had I missed this? A tropical storm had picked up speed and force and unexpectedly changed course at the last minute. A category two hurricane was heading straight for Miami and projected landfall was the middle of the night. Tonight.

  Oh my God. The dogs.

  I didn’t have a choice. I called Jesse. Six rings and it went to voice mail.

  “Hey, um, it’s me. I know things are… shit. I know things suck between us right now, but I was wondering if I could get a ride to the kennel? I’m sorry to bug you, but cabs are already shut down and it’s too late to take the bus and I’m worried about the dogs. So, um, yeah, you’re probably busy, but you know, if you get this?” Fuck. I hung up and two seconds later he called back.

  “Hey—”

  Rain and wind howled in the background. “I’m busy right now, Liv. What do you need?”

  Except he didn’t sound like he really wanted to know what I needed. He sounded pissed as hell. “Um, never mind, you’re busy. I get it.” I started to hang up.

  “Liv,” he barked.

  “No, it’s okay, never mind.” Thunder boomed again.

  His voice softened marginally. “When I finish securing this building site, I’ll come get you and take you back to my place. It’s safer than yours.” He paused. “Jennifer is already there.”

  Ah yeah, no thanks. Not a chance. I grew up in Florida. I wasn’t afraid of waiting out a hurricane. “I’m going to the kennel. The dogs will be scared alone.”

  “You were fired.”

  I didn’t need reminding. But I still had the keys and my boss had never stepped foot in that place, so she could go fuck herself for all I cared. She didn’t care about the animals anyway. She’d never know I was there, and hanging out with the dogs would be a thousand times better than staring at Jennifer and Jesse in the dark. Fuck that. “I still have my keys and I’m going to check on them. I need to go.” It was going to suck walking all that way but I needed to start now before the winds really picked up.

  “You don’t have a car.”

  “I’ll figure it out.”

  He paused. “Give me two hours. I’ll give you a ride.”

  I could be there by then. “Don’t worry about it, just take care of Jennifer.”

  “Damn it, Liv. I’m not back together with her.”

  “Whatever.” I hated that I was on the verge of tears. “It’s your life.”

  He sighed like he did when he was really tired, and my heart hurt. “I’ll ask Talon if he can give you a ride. Call you back in a second.” He hung up before I could protest.

  I stared at the skanky bathroom stall, mentally counting the blocks to my apartment and wondering why the hell I’d sold my car for a pipe dream.

  Jesse called back in less than a minute. “Talon will be at your apartment in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’m not at home.”

  Pause. Then, “Please tell me you’re not at his place.”

  “I’m at a bar.”

  The sigh was louder this time. “A hurricane’s coming and you go to a bar?”

  “I was thirsty.” It sounded better than saying I didn’t know about the storm because I was busy screwing a male prostitute.

  “Just tell me where you are, Olivia.” He said my name like I was a child.

  I told him the name of the bar.

  “I’ll let Talon know. You need any supplies? I can stop by the kennel on my way home.”

  “No.” I wasn’t a complete failure at life. I had some candles… somewhere. “I’m good.”

  “All right, I’ll talk to you later. Talon will be there in a few.”

  I didn’t know why I never thought about it before, but I realized right then that Jesse was always rescuing me. I didn’t ever help him hang pictures or give him rides or cook him meals. What did I do for him? I exhaled. “Thanks.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  I was a shitty person. “Nothing. Thanks for getting me a ride.”

  “Hey.”

  “What?” My phone buzzed with another incoming call but I ignored it.

  The background noise on his end got quieter. “I still want you to come to Ocala with me.”

  This time, a tear did fall down my cheek. “We can’t go back, Jesse.” I wasn’t that sixteen-year-old girl who believed in heroes anymore. And his kiss? As much as I wanted it to be, it wasn’t like Alex’s. I loved Jesse, I did, but I realized now that I wasn’t in love with him.

  “I’m not looking to go back, Liv. I want a future.”

  “And you deserve one.” With someone better than me.

  “Liv.”

  I swiped at my cheek. “I love you, Jesse, I always will, but Jen’s a nice girl. You should give her a second chance. I’ll talk to you later. I’m going to go wait out front for Talon.” I hung up before he had a chance to say anything else because I was too raw to talk to him anymore. If it weren’t for the dogs at the kennel, I’d probably be running away to Ocala with him and screwing up both of our lives.

  I made my way to the front of the bar just as Talon sauntered in. Unlike Jesse, he was all show. They were both blond and tall and muscular, but where Jesse was the guy next door, Talon was the player your mother warned you about. And it reminded me of Alex. If you put a suit on Talon, he’d have the same exact swagge
r as Alex. Maybe more so.

  Every woman in the place turned to look at Talon. His hair wet from the rain, he caught my eye and grinned.

  “What’s up, darlin’?” He leaned down and kissed my cheek like we were old friends then took my hand and held my arm out. “Daaaamn.” He spun me around. “Shame to waste this dress on a hurricane, firefly.”

  “What better time to wear it?” I asked dryly.

  His laugh made people around us smile. “Full of fire too. No wonder you had Vegas all worked up.” He glanced around. “Where is he?” His smile didn’t falter but the glint in his eye went from playful to suspicious in less than half a second.

  “Firefly?”

  “Bright and unattainable.” He dropped the pretense and the smile. “Where’s Vegas?”

  There was a definite edge to him that felt like more than a military background. “No clue. I’m not his keeper.”

  Talon eyed me. “He leave you here?”

  “What makes you think I’d go out with him?” I wasn’t about to admit to anyone I’d slept with a male escort.

  Slow and calculated, he nodded. “You found out.”

  “Found out what?”

  “Don’t play games with me, darlin’.”

  “You here to grill me or give me a ride? Because I need to get going.”

  He didn’t budge. “I know where you need to go, but I asked you a question.”

  My hands went to my hips. “Actually, you didn’t ask me a question. You made a statement.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Shit, darlin’, come on.” He took his jacket off and put it around my shoulders. “Let’s get you out of here before I decide to liquor you up.”

  The scent of coconuts and beach and man surrounded me as I glanced up at his too-blond hair and tanned skin. “You surf.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Every chance I get.”

  “Then why do you live in Florida?” Wasn’t California or Hawaii the place to be if you were a diehard surfer?

  “Who said I live here?”

  I frowned. “You don’t?”

  “Not in Miami. C’mon, rain was holdin’ back as I pulled up. Let’s get in the car before it lets loose again.”