Bitter

by S. L. Romines

  “How drunk are you?” I ask, swiping the tip of my tongue across my bottom lip.

  “I’m fucking sober, baby. How about you?”

  I look into his eyes one more time and see nothing but fire in them. I breathe in deep and make a decision that will either be good or bad. And right now? Oh right now, my ass is craving bad.

  “You drive,” I tell him, reaching between his legs and being greeted with his hard cock. “Let’s go.”

  The drive back to my house is intense, to say the least. As soon as Jax pulls his truck into my driveway and shuts off the engine, I make a quick exit nearly sprinting toward the front door. On the drive here my plan was to jump out of the truck, get in the house, leave the front door open, and lock myself in the restroom so I could…oh, I don’t know. Hide from the inevitable! I know! I know! I talked a big game back at Red’s, even groping his dick in the process. But this is different. Reality is fucking with me right now.

  Fumbling with my keys, my breath catches deep in the back of my throat. I stop my work on the lock as Jax slowly slides his palms from the small of my back to around my waist. His fingers inch their way down my belly, reaching my inner thighs. He digs deep, gripping my thighs and pulling my ass back against his hard cock.

  “I could always bend ya over right here and give the neighbors a show,” Jax says, nipping my earlobe. “Could be fun.”

  I laugh out loud, not because that shit is funny, but because my nerves are absolutely fucking frayed. I’ve never been nervous before at the thought of fucking a dude. But, Jax? He all kinds of sexy on a lollypop stick. Not to mention that it’s been well over six months since my vagina has been violated by the boloney pony. And my vibrator doesn’t count. Besides, Dirk is the best dick I’ve ever been with. He doesn’t talk. He doesn’t complain. He’s always there when I need him and he knows how to fully satisfy me. Most perfect invention ever!

  “I think old man Davis might have a coronary if he sees us getting it on right here.”

  My body shakes as Jax quietly laughs into the crook of my neck. I’m thankful when I get the door unlocked and can finally put a few feet between us. I need to regroup and get my head screwed on straight.

  I walk into the kitchen and grab some orange juice from the fridge. Not the best thing to drink after too much liquor, but it will have to do. I pour Jax a glass and hope that it distracts him long enough so I can lock myself away in the bathroom for a minute.

  “Here you go.”

  When I enter the living room— two glasses of orange juice in hand— I stop dead in my tracks as I take in Jax’s sleeping form on my couch. Well, he’s more like snoring himself to death. The dude sounds like a freight train. I wonder if he realizes just how loud he is. Oh, well. I guess it was too good to be fucking true. Serves me right any fucking how. Talking a big game at the bar, getting here while I’m as nervous as a pleather wearing whore in church, and then my date falls asleep before the fireworks even begin. Yay me!

  I set the glasses down and remove the throw blanket from the back of the couch and decide to let him sleep it off. Covering him up, I briefly think of how the night would’ve ended if hadn’t fallen asleep. Pretty fucking amazing I bet. I shake my head and quietly laugh as I cover him up and head to bed. Tomorrow morning should prove to be very interesting.

  Chapter Four

  My head is pounding. No, really, it feels like tiny little cracked out monkeys are hammering away in my dome. I will never, ever drink like that again. Ever.

  The sunlight is a raging whore bag shining through the window as I lay in bed with one eye open, trying to figure out how I’m going to be a fully functional human being with a fucking hangover. I’m not, that’s how. I shall lay here in my bed all day covered in my own stink.

  I turn over in the direction of my bedroom door and am instantly hit with the permeating smell of breakfast. And not just any kind of breakfast either. Whatever is cooking down the hallway includes bacon. And if anything in this entire world can get me out of bed, it’s motherfreckin’ bacon. Wait. That means…

  I hop out of bed wearing a tight white tank top, my boy shorts and head down the hallway still trying to shake myself of my ginormous hangover. The smell of food is so overwhelming that my stomach starts to growl as I near the kitchen. Not only am I starving to death, I hear singing, actual manly singing coming from my kitchen. I can’t help but drop jaw when I peek around the corner and see Jax swaying his hips from side to side. He’s doing a little a sexy as hell rendition of Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran as he stands in front of the stove with a spatula in his hand using it as a microphone. Funniest fucking shit ever! I pull out my cell and start to record because, really, who wouldn’t?

  “That’s hot.”

  Never, have I heard a man scream like a bitch before. But Jax just now confirmed that some men do possess a feminine side.

  “Damn, woman! Are you trying to kill me?” he squeaks out, placing the spatula over his chest.

  After a few moments, I decide to let him in on the fact that he’s charbroiling breakfast.

  “You’re burning my bacon,” I say, pointing to the stove while continuing to record the debacle.

  “Oh, shit,” he grumbles, plucking each charred piece from the pan, plopping them onto a plate.

  “Nice singing, by the way. I didn’t take you for a crooner.” I stop recording and place my cell on the cabinet. “Do much of that when you’re hangin’ in the desert with your camo wearing buddies?”

  “Very funny,” he says, as the side of his mouth lifts in that way I fucking love, showing off a bit of dimple. “And thanks for scaring the crap out of me, by the way. I thought you were still sleeping.”

  I shrug my shoulders and move to stand beside him, snatching a piece of thick, juicy bacon from the plate and shoving it in my mouth.

  “Manners much?” he quips, lightly smacking my hand with the spatula. “Don’t mess with my bacon.”

  “My kitchen.” I flip him off, grab another piece and hop up on the counter next to him. “And where did you find bacon anyway? There wasn’t any in the fridge. Well, I’m not exactly sure what’s in there. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a food run.”

  “I noticed that,” he says, leaning up against the counter. “And you should be more careful with that finger.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, you could always do it again and I’ll show you.”

  Out of wild curiosity, I raise my hand up in front of my face, just below my eyes, slowly flip him the bird, and then slide my finger down the underside of my tongue. I smile wide behind it because, really, I’ve never been one to resist a challenge.

  My smile quickly fades and is replaced by a sharp intake of breath as Jax takes my finger in his mouth…and sucks. My pussy is on high alert when he starts to roll his tongue over the tip it. If I didn’t know any better I’d say that he may be a switch hitter.

  “You’re pretty good at that,” I say, my mouth gaped as he makes another pass across my finger with his tongue. “Don’t ask, don’t tell?”

  A deep, sexy ass chuckled resonates in the back of his throat and I can’t help but squirm a bit as his face and mouth are mere fucking inches from mine.

  “You like the boloney pony, too?”

  My nipples quickly harden as Jax bites down, and grazes his teeth up my finger, making a plopping sound as he releases it. Sexy motherfucker!

  Moving in closer to my lips, Jax looks up at me and I swear my ovaries just imploded.

  “Baby, I’m all about this,” he says, placing both of his hands on either side of my inner thighs. “I just know what I like and women aren’t very different when you’re buried nose deep between their legs.”

  My breathing comes out in short spurts and I seriously have the urge to fuck him right her on my kitchen floor. That wouldn’t be too bad, would it? But I fucking refrain like the ass hat that I am. This fucking date thingy from last night wasn’t supposed to even last thirty minutes. Show my face and
get the fuck out. That’s what I was supposed to do. But instead, my dumbass decided to get shitfaced and invite him back to my place. I’m going to have to evaluate my level of badass. I may have to go back to Red’s and slam Tracey’s face against the brick wall just to convince myself that this man hasn’t flipped my Suzy Homemaker switch or something equally revolting.

  “Guess I’ll never know how talented you really are, seeing as though you’ll be leaving in a couple of weeks,” I say, sliding out from his arm entrapment. “Whatever shall I do?”

  Without realizing it, the knitted wrap I’d put on before I left my bedroom this morning, slips off of my shoulder.

  “Holy shit, Vivian.”

  I look down at my shoulder and bite my lip. “What?”

  “What? Are you serious right now?” he says, hooking the edge of my wrap and pulling down a little farther. “That is some serious ink.”

  I grab for my wrap to pull it back over my shoulder but Jax twists his finger into the material.

  “How far down does it go down?”

  “It’s nothing,” I tell him, snatching the fabric from his grip and pull it back over my shoulder. “Just a little ink. Nothing to get excited over.”

  There is no way he’s seeing anymore. To be honest, I’m covered from neck to waist. When I was younger tattoos fucking revolted me. I thought they looked cheap on women and made men look fucking dirty. I’d never planned on getting them. But for reasons I couldn’t prevent, the tats were necessary. And the reason behind them is something Jax doesn’t ever need to know.

  “Looks like more than just a little ink.”

  Shut up, sexy fucker, before you piss me off.

  I turn to look at him. “Drop it, okay? You’ve seen them. You know I have them. You can put your boner away now.”

  “One of these days, Vivian, I will get you to tell me more about you. I have my ways.”

  Does he really think I’m that vulnerable?

  “Well,” I say, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and tossing food onto it, “unless you plan on squeezing it out of me in the next two weeks, I’m guessing you’ll have to wait longer. A lot longer.”

  I don’t even bother with sitting at the table as I inhale my food like it’s my lifeline. It never fails. Every time I get drunk, end up with a hangover, I am hungry as fuck the next morning. At least the little cracked out monkeys stopped doing the Macarena in my head. Dirty little assholes.

  “You eating?” I ask, pointing to the food. “Or are you taking off?”

  “Trying to get rid of me already?”

  Can this man not get a simple fucking clue? What’s it going to take for him to get the hint and hit the road? Oh, I know, dumbass! Quit letting him suck your fucking fingers while he fries bacon in your kitchen! Major turn on by the way.

  “Well, let’s see.” I cram another piece of bacon into my mouth. “I’ve been trying to get rid of you since the restaurant last night, but for some crazy reason, it hasn’t sunk in with you yet. Why is that?”

  Jax wastes no time jumping up on the counter to sit next to me. If he wasn’t so damn cute, I’d probably have to kick him in the junk.

  “Well, I’m thinking that you’re pushing me away because you’re fighting some past inner turmoil that keeps you from letting people in.” He looks at me expectantly, while snatching the sliver of pork from between my fingers. “Am I right?”

  I twist my head in his direction. “Who the hell are you? Dr. Phil’s fucking son?”

  The laugh that bubbles up in Jax’s chest is contagious. I can’t help but bust out laughing.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have a genuine laugh,” he says, nudging me with his shoulder, as his laugh subsides and a serious expression shadows his features. “It looks good on you.”

  “What?”

  “Happiness.”

  I blow a heavy breath through my lips and hop down from the counter. Date over.

  “Don’t mean to be rude, but I really need to get some things done. You know, like wash my hair and paint my toenails.”

  Jax nods his head and slides off the countertop. “I get it. Actually, I’m not sure how I missed it. But I get it.”

  Jax picks up his keys and jacket and heads for the front door.

  “It’s sad, really,” he says, turning the door knob. When he looks back at me, my heart literally fucking crumbles into a million tiny pieces. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Vivian. But I hope you keep your eyes open next time. Take care, huh.”

  Something deep inside of me lights up like a blazing fucking fire and my feet move on their own accord just in time to slam the door shut as he pulls it open.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, inches from him. “What’s so sad, Jax? What?”

  “You,” he says, leaning in closer to me. “This. Your life. You push…fucking hard. Why, Vivian? Why are you fucking pushing me away so hard? Why are you so damn bitter?”

  “You’re an asshole! A fucking asshole!”

  The nerve! Who does he think he is?

  “I don’t have to smile and laugh to be happy! I’m fucking happy, damn you! Fucking ecstatic!”

  “Give me a break,” he says, hovering over me. “I bet the last time you were happy was when you were drunk off your ass. Oh, wait! That was last fucking night! You keep pushing people away, you’ll never give anyone, and I do mean anyone the chance to love you they way you deserve! All you had to do was give this, us, a chance. That all you had to…”

  As if my heart jumped in the driver seat, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him with the intensity of a thousand raging fires. I press myself against him, hanging on as if my life depending on his touch. Jax’s arms snake around my waist. He pulls me up off the floor and I sink further into the kiss. He feels amazing. Everything about him feels fucking perfect. And how he makes my body react so fucking shamelessly to his touch is beyond my grasp of understanding. I don’t think I want to understand. I just want to feel.

  Reluctantly I break the kiss that has us nearly cemented to one another. I swear the loss is nearly painful. Looking up into his eyes, I make the decision to give him what he says I can’t. A chance…with conditions.

  “Prove it to me,” I say, still wrapped up into him. “You prove to me that I can trust you, that you are not like the rest and I will give this a chance.”

  “Get dressed and grab your shit,” he says, pulling my arms down from around his neck. “We’re going on a road trip.”

  If ever there was a time that I should jump out of a moving vehicle, this would be it. I must’ve been crazy to agree to Jax taking me on an impromptu road trip. Stupid, horny vagina! First of all, I have no fucking clue where we’re going. Second, what if he turns out to be a psycho murderer? Like what if he wants to pull off onto a deserted dirt road, takes me to a dilapidated cabin with human skulls dangling from the ceiling dripping blood, and chops me up in tiny little pieces, only to turn my body parts into a fava bean stew?

  “Pull the fuck over! Now! Pull over now!”

  The truck continues to cruise down the highway and I am seriously having the biggest freak out ever. My palms start to sweat while my heart slams against my chest.

  “I’ll fucking jump! And then you’ll become someone’s prison bitch!” I scream, hanging onto the “Oh Shit Bar”. “Let me out!”

  “Are you intellectually challenged, Vivian? Are you insane? Possibly suffering from Tourette’s?” he asks in all seriousness, his brows up in the air as he looks over at me. “It’s a legit question.”

  Does this fucking turd seriously think that I have a mental condition?

  “No, I’m not a basket case and you need to keep your eyes on the damn road! Oh my God! We almost hit that fucking bush! Did you even see that bush? It was a huge fucking bush! How could you not see it?”

  “Okay,” Jax says, pursing his lips. “But I’m pretty sure that they make a pill for that.”

  “Are you going to kill me, Jax? I mean, because if you are, can you p
lease just let me in on the little secret. Forewarn a bitch before you do.”

  I hate his contagious laugh. It’s so fucking infectious and I try to reign in the traitor laugh bubbling up inside of me as he laughs his ass off.

  “Kill you? Are you serious right now?” he asks, continuing to crack up. “Woman! I tried to have sex with you not only once, but twice! I swear you are the cutest kind of delusional. For real.”

  “Well then where in the hell are you taking me? Because if we turn down some dark desolate road and I see a cabin in the distance, I fucking swear that I will stab you. In the neck. Deep. For real.”

  “Well, you can try to stab me if you like but then you’d become someone’s prison bitch and won’t be able to enjoy the day I have planned.” Jax smiles and takes a deep breath. “And you’ll find out where we’re going when we get there. So buckle up baby, and enjoy the ride.”

  I haven’t paid attention the entire ride but it quickly started to dawn on me where we are as I see the obvious, ‘in your face’ signs.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Have you ever been?”

  When the large, iconic sign comes into view have the sudden urge to jump around like a giddy little girl. But on the other hand, I have the urge to knock Jax in the damn head.

  “Never,” I tell him, taking in the scenery and feeling slightly shafted. “Always wanted to, but no, I’ve never been here.”

  Jax smiles over at me as we finally reach the parking terminal.

  “Here you go, Sir. Please place this on the inside of your windshield so that it’s visible. Have a great time!”

  Chapter Five

  I realize I’m in purgatory the moment we enter the park. If there aren’t ten children screaming in one direction, there’s twenty more whining for this or that. And let’s not forget to mention the parents of said spawn giving their children the ugly side eyes, or the mother over by the stroller rental station freaking out because the gentleman behind the counter just rented out the last double stroller in the entire park. Or how about the dad with the ten cameras wrapped around his neck begging his three small children to stand still long enough so he can take their picture with the famous mouse, while their fanny pack wearing mama checks her pouch for the tenth time. Yes, lady! You have enough tissues for your snotty nose mini me’s!