I need food.
Food need I.
I’m on my way to the living room when I hear it. Grunting and moans, skin against skin, and a female’s distinct mewing. I must still be foggy because I don’t put two and two together until I see Kent’s penis disappear between Auburn Hair’s legs. I forgot about the couch. Surprisingly, I don’t make a sound. I’m too stunned. My mouth opens in shock as his body meets hers once more. I watch as her eyes roll in the back of her head and she grips his arms as if he’s breaking her in half. Kent grunts and tosses his head back, his body embracing the darkness surrounding them.
My brain forces me to turn away. I quickly back into the hall and put my hand over my mouth. What did I just witness? Kent having insanely rough sex with Auburn Hair. The way he moved into her, so hard and deliberate, makes me embarrassed to have witnessed it and fractionally, minutely, only a little bit, excited. I slip back into my room and force myself to deal with my hangover.
Excited? I chastise myself. You’re still drunk.
Why did he have to have her angled right at the hallway? If they were behind the cushion I could have missed the anatomy lesson. I guess this means I was a good wing-woman. Should I celebrate? I sink down on top of my sheets on the floor and throw my arm over my eye.
What would it be like to be touched like that? I’ve avoided emotionless sex and men since they started showing an interest in me. Sex will happen someday, but not until I’m sure the man I chose wouldn’t leave once he got what he wanted. Kent said women were untrustworthy. So are men. Humans in general are hard to trust because lying is an option. As long as someone can lie, odds are they’re going to.
All of a sudden they reach a crescendo. Auburn Hair starts to moan so loud I’m positive he’s killing her.
“Oh, Kent, oh, right there,” she screams.
I roll over and giggle into my pillow. “Oh, Kent.”
When the screaming subsides I wonder if it’s safe to come out. I give them another hour before I try. When I emerge from my bedroom they’re both asleep. Kent is sleeping with his back to her and she’s got her arm thrown over his waist. It’s such a cold position for a man who had sex with her. What’s his issue with women? He clearly has one.
What’s your issue with men? My subconscious counters.
I roll my eyes and ignore the naked lovebirds as I raid the fridge quietly. I make a turkey sandwich, and grab an apple and a soda from the drawer. As I’m tiptoeing past the couch Kent rolls over and spots me.
I ignore his naked body and look only at his eyes, afraid he knows I saw him. But he doesn’t appear to be aware. He looks confused.
“What time is it?” he asks tiredly.
I shrug.
He looks over his shoulder at Auburn Hair in disgust, and then gets up, grabs his boxers off the floor, and hops into them. I only see the beginning contours of his perfect behind. He’s got back dimples. I never noticed those last night. The second his boxers go on the dimples disappear. I’m so disappointed it’s unbelievable.
“Get her out of here, please,” he orders. “Or I’ll do it and I won’t be nice.” He bends over and grabs the rest of his clothes. “I’m going to shower. Don’t bother me.” He marches past me and slams his bedroom door.
What did I do?
The sound startles Auburn Hair. She blinks and reaches for Kent but Kent’s gone. She opens her eyes and gasps when she sees me. I feel terrible for her when she starts looking for her clothes.
To give her some privacy, I look away.
“Where’s Kent?”
“He…left. He told me to tell you he had an amazing time last night and he’s sorry he couldn’t stay and see you out.”
“Stop the bullshit. Where is he?”
“He left,” I insist, irritated she’s not letting me make this less awkward for her.
“Stop lying for him.” She walks over and grabs her heels. I notice there’s a used condom on the floor and the wrapper within reach. “Where is he? He’s not fucking and ditching me.”
I recall his anger and decide I don’t want to see how he’ll act if she confronts him. “You know where he lives,” I remind her.
“True.” She sighs sadly. “I can’t believe I fell for his shit. Don’t fall for it,” she warns me. “I saw how you were dancing with him. I know he’s gorgeous and charming but he isn’t worth it. Great sex is only great sex.”
“Got it,” I mumble. “And we were only dancing.”
“We were only dancing too,” she points out, grabbing her purse off the end of the couch. “Bye, Kent!” she calls. “Thanks for nothing!”
She slams the front door hard.
“Is she gone?” Kent asks.
I turn around and glare at him. He’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his bare chest. “Yes.”
He meets my eyes boldly. “Nice touch with the amazing time last night. Technically it was all night. But hey, who’s counting?” He gives me a cocky smile.
Is he for real?
Real for he is?
I make a disgusted sound in the back of my throat and walk around, taking a seat on the other end of the sofa. Now I know right where he bags them. I take the remote off the coffee table and point it at the TV.
“It’s ten,” I inform him.
But he’s gone. I hear the shower a minute later. I refuse to imagine his naked body under the water, having seen it on top of Auburn Hair, and rather choose to watch my favorite talk show. I eat in between unpredictable bouts of nausea. Twice I think I might puke but I manage to keep everything down. After all, wing-women have a reputation to uphold.
The mission for today was to get the rest of my stuff off Camden’s lawn. I need a truck. James has a truck. I wait for him to emerge, sleepy-eyed and unaware when I unleash it on him.
“Good morning, James,” I say sweetly. He may not be able to hear me, but he can still see me.
He pauses on his way to the kitchen and waves tiredly to me.
“So I was thinking,” I say, and put on my hopeful expression. “I need to borrow your truck to get the rest of my stuff.”
He frowns at me.
Kent emerges from the hall and laughs at James as he smacks his shoulder, getting James’s attention. “I told you. That pouty face is hard not to fall for.”
James shrugs and then raises his hands in a surrendering motion, making a move for the kitchen. Relief flows through me.
Kent, now dressed in only a pair of gray sweats, stares at me. “Do you need help getting your things?”
I can barely meet his eyes after seeing him in action this morning. “I do. Thank you.”
“When do you want to leave?”
Did we really dance so close? I’ll need to get tested first opportunity I get.
“After you eat. And could you pick up your used condom? It’s winking at me.”
His mouth thins. “Wing-women don’t get bothered by used condoms. You must maintain discussed persona at all times or there are plenty of other rooms out there.”
“Please pick it up, Kent.” I hold his dark gaze steadily, refusing to picture his face as he pushed into her. He looked so different then. Carnal, more like an animal and less like a man. His hair had that messy look and I know she ran her fingers through it. Sweat had dotted his muscular back and her hands had gripped his arms as he took her. He might have been the sexiest man I had ever seen in that moment. More beast and less beauty, his muscles contracting and his hips moving. There was something about the way he thrust into her that suggested he wasn’t trying to find pleasure but administering a punishment.
Who was Kent punishing? And why couldn’t I get his naked body out of my head?
He rolls his eyes and marches over to the used, light pink pile of wet rubber. After grabbing the condom wrapper he uses it as a shield between his fingers and the diseases germinating on the outside. He marches it into the bathroom and a second later I hear the water turn on as he undoubtedly washes his hands.
&nb
sp; “Happy?” he growls when he comes back out.
“I’d be happier if you had sex with them in your bedroom.”
“Well it’s not fucking happening!” he explodes. “You know what? This isn’t working out. You should find some other place to live. You have too much of an opinion about my life. You don’t know me. One dance together doesn’t give you the right to tell me how to live.”
“Kent…” I bite my lip, wounded, as my mortified blush creeps over my entire body. Now I can’t look at him for a different reason. He’s right. It’s my smart mouth again. This time it got me into trouble. “I’m sorry. You’re right—”
“No. I’ll give you a couple of days to find a place but I want you out of here.” His handsome face is set in stone. “Women,” he mumbles harshly, “you’re all the same. All the fucking same.”
All because I told him to have sex in his bedroom like a normal person? What was it about women and his bed? My stomach drops as I think about leaving. Other than being a wing-woman, this is a great place. I like James and having my own space. I don’t want to leave.
I set my soda down and get up, moving to stand in front of him. His black eyes are narrowed and mean. I touch his arm, right where Auburn Hair touched, and look him in the eye. “I don’t want to leave. I like it here. I promise to keep my mouth shut from here on out and be your wing-woman. I really need this place. I feel safe here and the money is good.”
“I’m going to do what I want with any girl I want,” he warns me. “You’re my sidekick. That’s it. Those are the rules. My life is none of your business.”
“None,” I agree.
“Let’s go get your stuff.”
I sag in relief and then reach up to wrap my arms around his shoulders. His hands come around me hesitantly to grip my waist. “I had fun dancing last night,” I whisper in his ear. I don’t know why I do it. I start swaying against him and he chuckles in my ear.
“You’re a good dancer. You know how to use these.” His hands slide to grip my hips, moving in tune to my swaying. “How did you do that?” he wonders. “I never wanted to see you again a second ago. Now I’m glad you’re staying.”
I shrug against his chest and pull back to look into his eyes. “Because of this.” I give him my hopeful face.
He grins down at me, his smile so close it kind of sucks the breath out of me. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No,” I mutter, trying and failing to stop staring at his mouth.
“Good. I’d feel sorry for him if you did.” His hands release me. “Let’s go get your stuff.”
My arms fall away from him. “Sorry for him how?”
He touches my bottom lip with his index finger. “No reason, wing-woman. Go get dressed.”
I throw on a pair of jeans and a tank top, and put my hair in a ponytail, and then muster the courage to face Camden again. Kent’s twirling a pair of keys around his finger when I come out. His fresh blue jeans and black tank top hug his long, lean body. We’re silent on our way down to James’s silver truck.
Kent opens the passenger door and gives me a hand crawling inside. I brush against his chest as I do so, recalling the way we were so close together last night.
His eyes find mine and he clears his throat. “Up you go.” He nudges my lower back, urging me in the passenger seat. When I’m inside and he’s pulling away he looks at me. “As my wing-woman, you should be helping me.”
“I did last night.”
“I think you could do better.”
Who was he kidding? “How?”
“Try harder. We’ll practice more tonight.”
“Practice,” I scoff. “I have to work.”
“From when to when?”
“Seven to three. And before you get any ideas, I work until Sunday.”
“We’ll have to compromise. Did I mention that I love Oblivion?” His grin is wide and damaging.
Great. Not only will I have to serve the men at Oblivion, I’ll also have to serve Kent and his manwhore friends. “Any good sidekick knows how to compromise,” I respond cheerfully.
He chuckles. “Your smart mouth is going to get you in trouble.”
His laugh wafts over me. “I’m not afraid.”
“You should be,” he warns. “I love to punish women. Be careful.”
“Why do you like to punish them?”
“Because you’re all bad, lying, whores,” he says simply.
I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand. “Kent.”
He glares at me. “What? Are you saying you’ve never lied? Hmm?” I look away. “That’s what I thought. Your mouth is smart and I’m not saying you’re a whore, but you dance like one.”
My jaw unhinges. I cross my arms over my chest and look out the window. What a bastard this guy is.
After a second he sighs. “Raina? I’m sorry. You’re not a whore. You’re not going to talk to me? That’s fine. Wing-women aren’t hired for their stimulating conversations.”
He turns the radio on and starts singing along.
“Where am I going?”
“Right,” I grumble unwillingly.
Why did Kent have such negative thoughts and feelings about women? He was punishing all of us for doing something none us did. Auburn Hair didn’t give us all a great shining name, but she hadn’t done anything he didn’t want her to do. We weren’t all that way. Certainly not me. Becca neither. And if some of us were, so what? As women we all had different standards and viewpoints. That was no reason to treat us all like crap.
Why did Kent want to punish us all?
Chapter Three
When we arrive at Camden’s house, she’s outside washing her car. The neighbor is out front drooling on his Dockers. Kent is no better. He leans over the steering wheel to watch her bend over the hood in her short shorts and bikini top.
“Oh,” he groans, his voice deep and wanting.
“She is such a cliché.” I smack his shoulder. “Stop it.”
He smirks at me but he’s looking at her. “But she’s hot.”
“She makes Auburn Hair look chaste.” I open my door and get out.
“Auburn Hair?” He laughs and meets me around front, eyes never leaving Camden’s ass. “Is that what you’re calling her?”
“Do you know her name?”
“No.”
“Then that’s what I’m calling her.” I grunt under my breath and refrain from slapping him silly. Why does he want her? Why Camden? “Help me get my stuff and stop staring at her.”
“Yo, wing-woman? Introduce me.” He licks his lips. He’s in manwhore mode, all gleaming eyes and muscles.
“Kent. I’ll run interference between any girl you want, but please not her. She’s my enemy.”
“She didn’t do anything to me. At least not yet.” He runs a hand through his hair and finally looks at me. “How do I look?”
“Gorgeous,” I answer unthinkingly. I blush and look away from his penetrating gaze. “I mean you look fine.”
He gently touches my chin and brings my face toward his. I feel trapped suddenly. He cocks his head to the side and stares intently into my eyes. There’s a patch of fair stubble growing on his jaw and chin. It looks rough encircling his soft mouth. “You get this one pass. I’ll leave the roommate alone. But you owe me later.”
I sigh in relief. I don’t know why the idea of Kent with Camden bothers me. Maybe because now I know what’s going to happen if he wants her. Kent’s going to open her legs wide and punish her. He’s not allowed to punish her because the idea makes me ill. I don’t have to understand everything my body does to know that it doesn’t like something.
“Thank you. Ignore her and help me get my stuff.”
“Well, well, look who’s here to get her Ikea furniture.”
Kent raises his eyebrows at her but does what I say.
“I hope you don’t mind. I turned the sprinklers on last night to water the lawn. It looked thirsty.”
Oh no. My mattress is a soggy mess and my wo
oden bedframe already smells of mold. The paint on my dresser is peeling and all of my clothes are drenched in mud.
“Damn,” Kent mutters. “None of this is salvageable.”
I fall to my knees in the grass and bite back a sob. I don’t have money for this. I have three hundred and something left after I give Kent my rent money. That’s all I have to live on until I get paid in two weeks. This overwhelming pressure of always being a step behind, that is more common in my life than anything else, begins to take over. When Becca and I were young she took most of the responsibilities, but she couldn’t take away my feelings. The times we scrounged our menial resources together just to buy a meal to share, or to pay rent, or just to have a roof over our heads for one night—these were feelings that had no problem resurfacing anytime I felt it might happen again.
“Raina,” Kent soothes softly, “we’ll get you some new furniture. Don’t cry.”
I sniff. “How? I’m broke.”
“This is how. Stay here and don’t get in the way. It’s punishment time.” He gets up, waves at Camden, and then makes a run for the front door.
She chases after him and together they go into the house. I leave my waterlogged furniture and risk stepping inside after them. She’s already gotten rid of my presence in the house. There’s no sign of me anywhere.
Her screams can be heard from the living room.
“You are not taking my stuff!”
“What did Raina do to you?” Kent demands. “Tell me and if I sympathize, then I’ll leave your things here. Otherwise I’m replacing everything you destroyed with your stuff.”
“She’s a stuck-up bitch. You know the kind.”
“I do. Raina’s not one of them. She’s actually really cool. You lose.” Kent comes walking out with Camden’s expensive memory foam mattress.
My Sweet Demise (Demise #1) Page 4