by K. M. Liss
I was in heaven. Up there, with angels singing, flying through pink fluffy clouds.
“Baby you're the best. How you make me feel. Oh, God! ” I clutched him to me, never wanting to let go.
But all too soon, the sweat between us began to cool as we started to come down from the high.
He dropped a few little kisses on my neck. Sighed deeply, and then he raised his head and spoke to me.
“I'm a real good fuck, ain't I?”
He said those basic, harsh words in such a way that it didn't sound nice at all. And I didn't like the expression on his face.
“What are you saying, Josh?” I asked warily.
“What I'm saying is remember it, babe. Because it's the last one you'll get from me.” And he moved off me, withdrawing fast.
Pain stabbed me in the heart as he rose to kneeling, between my legs, his eyes on mine. He coolly dealt with the condom. Standing up, he zipped up his jeans and put on his t-shirt.
I lay there broken. Completely crushed to pieces.
A cold emptiness invaded my whole body as he stood looking down at me with such contempt.
Did he think I was easy, was that it? Was this how he treated all girls―like trash―as something to be used and discarded?
“Get dressed, Tiffany. We're done.”
I rolled up with a gasping sob, wrenching itself from my heart, tears stinging my eyes, as he threw me my clothes.
“Why are you behaving like this? I thought you liked me?”
“I thought you liked me too. For what I am, not who I am.”
“I won't pretend to know what you're talking about. Why have you used me? Why, Josh?”
“You give it out, you get it back. That's life.” His tone was cruel and hard.
“I don't understand. I've never given anything out. You bastard!”
“Come on. We both know the game's up. Take it on the chin, sweetheart.” He turned on his heels with a parting comment. “I'll see you around.. No hard feelings, okay?”
No hard feelings? What?
And he left me there.
I cried like my heart would break. I was humiliated, angry, hurt, used and cast off like the condom lying on the floor, next to me.
And I had no idea what I'd done.
Well fuck him, goddamit! Fuck him to hell.
He was the nastiest type of player imaginable.
What a bastard!
But I tried to hold onto a shred of pride as I left. I held my head high and made my way to my bike trying not to break down, holding back the fresh flood of tears that had formed and were threatening to fall.
He'd thrown us away.
Like we meant nothing.
Like I meant nothing.
CHAPTER FIVE
JOSHUA
It was almost ten days later, before I saw her again. I'd avoided coming to town on her shift. But tonight, I bit the bullet. I wasn't hiding from her.
She was in the bar and serving customers. My heart lurched.
So goddamn pretty, I wanna eat her.
I swore she got more beautiful every time I saw her. She was all pink lips, huge eyes and eyelashes to die for. She looked a little pale and drawn, but other than that, she was her usual much too beautiful self.
She scowled at me, then deliberately blanked me from her field of vision.
Kicker went for the drinks and I slid into a booth opposite Pete. I sat with my back to her so I didn't pine after that far too beautiful face, those sweet lips and those soft and slender curves. I had a hard on whenever she entered my thoughts. I couldn't shake her loose no matter what I tried. Her voice was like a song echoing in my head. It kept playing and playing.
The passing of a week had changed my feelings a little. Or maybe a helluva lot.
Despite it all, I still wanted her. With a strength of feeling that shocked the fuck out of me. I'd felt a real shit using her the way I had. I should have just confronted her. Having sex with her like that, almost as a form of punishment, was a despicable thing to do. I had to have a last taste. A really long and in depth taste of the girl who'd hooked me so fast and hard with her lies. And it had been a mind blowing hot taste which kept replaying in my memory.
That kind of behavior wasn't me. That wasn't what I was about. I wasn't vindictive by nature. But I felt let down. She'd hurt me. She'd used me more than I'd used her.
Who liked being used for their potential wealth factor? It didn't make a guy feel good at all.
But the way she'd reacted, not guiltily or angrily, but so naturally upset, told me she had feelings for me, no matter her initial motive.
And I'd killed those feelings stone dead.
I sipped my beer, in a world of my own.
Thinking.
I forgot myself for a while.
Where I was... who I was with...
I was back there, in the barn, drowning in her arms and melting into her luscious sweet smelling body. I was hard as iron imagining that point where she flushed with heat, coming hard and fast. I broke out in a sweat, wanting it again, so bad that I ached inside.
That was sheer heaven on earth.
I'd told the guys I wasn't seeing her any more. We had a lot of different values, we weren't compatible at all, I'd said, vaguely. They'd both given me an odd look, not believing a word I'd said and confused at my sudden u-turn where she was concerned. Tactfully, no one pushed me on it.
Christie came up to the table, her warm smile shaking me out of my dark moodiness. Christie was a pretty girl. She kept trying and trying to win me round. But I wasn't interested in her. There was only one girl I was interested in, and jointly, we'd blown it.
“Hi Josh.”
“Hey, you're looking good, girl. How've you been?” I forced myself to respond pleasantly.
“Oh you know... Missing you, like always.”
Guiltily, I gave her a hug, and told her not to waste her time missing me. I wasn't worth it. But I knew this would only make her come on to me more. And that would hurt Tiffany more... but I couldn't seem to stop myself.
My eye strayed to Mickey as he wandered about picking up some empty bottles and glasses. His hair looked clean, and he was neater and smarter than I'd seen in a long time.
So far he'd been behaving himself. Playing the game my way. My spies were out and set to inform me if anything shady was going on. I'd hoped a few weeks dry of the vice cycle would break his habit. It seemed to be working. He was self respecting at least. That was a start. I'd feel pleased about it all if it wasn't for the other, much bigger issue lying unresolved in the background.
At that moment, my cellphone rang.
I answered.
“Hello?”
“Ah, Joshua, Sheriff Jackson here. Things are moving on with your unlawful cattle slaughter. We have the ballistics report back from the lab, and we now have a search warrant. The deputy and I plan to move forward with our inquiries shortly.”
Welcome news indeed. I was looking forward to this no end. The motherfucker was about to pay his dues.
“That's good to hear. I'm in Riders right now. The subject is here and waiting.”
“We won't be approaching Mickey Green during working hours. That's all I can reveal.”
I caught Mickey's eye. Little did he know the shit was about to hit him in the face after his shift. “Okay. Let me know how it goes.”
“Sure will. Speak soon.” The Sheriff hung up.
Kicker picked up on the thread. “The sting going down is it? Raiders at Riders?”
I gave him a look and spoke quietly, leaning across the table to get my 'for crissakes, be subtle' meaning across. Kicker was definitely not subtle. He was the type to tap Mickey on the shoulder and tell him “They're hot on your tail, pal.”
“Later. After closing, I guess. Hopefully he won't be expecting anything.”
“We don't know it's Mickey for sure. It may well be Lucky. Or someone else,” Pete pointed out.
Lucky had skipped town, whereabouts unknown. On his ret
urn, my father had summoned me to his office. I had a lecture on who should have fired him. But he was accepting of the fact that Lucky wasn't much liked, and was well known to the Sheriff for the wrong reasons. Not a great loss, anyway, he'd remarked. It was one of our better disagreements.
“As we don't know where Lucky is, or the name of someone else, we have to start somewhere. My bet's on Mickey. I took a sip of my beer and sat back in my seat watching him. Quite sure of my instincts. “Yep. Definitely him. I feel it in here.” I pressed my gut with my fingertips.
I chilled for a minute, thinking of the consequences, if I was right. Then I suddenly remembered something. “Where's Col? I've hardly seen him for the last two days. And his phone's permanently off. I know he's off rota, but he's ignored two messages I've sent. That's unlike him.”
I noticed Pete and Kicker give each other a look. My stomach churned with concern. “What's up? Is there a problem with Col?”
“No he's fine, really...” Kicker began. “But it's a delicate subject.”
“Oh, spit it out will ya?”
“Okay, as you're ordering me to, as my superior, I will. Col has been seeing Tiff's Mom. He told us not to tell you. He wasn't sure how you'd take it.”
“You are kidding me, right?”
“No, he fixed her truck up for her and she cooked him dinner, to say thank you. And she's been cooking him dinner the last three nights. And tonight they're going out to dinner. On a real date. How about that?”
I was incredulous. After his terrible time with his ex I didn't expect Col would ever want to date again. But I supposed he was a guy. Guys had needs. The kind you couldn't satisfy by being on your own forever.
“Well fuck me. The old guy's got life in him yet.”
“Forty two is not that old, Josh,” said Pete indignantly. At forty and still single himself, he should know.
“Sorry, didn't mean it like that. But Melinda and Col... shit... are they, umm....?”
“Well he didn't come home last night, so I guess he now knows Mrs Johnson's anatomy intimately. Either that or he's dead from the waist down... she's fucking hot.” Kicker fanned himself humorously.
“Yeah, Melinda Johnson is a real babe. Much like her daughter.”
“Ah, I see... a little fire's still burning in your heart for Tiffany, is it?”
“A fucking big fire. A hell fire. But I'm trying to put it out. Right now actually. I have my mental sprinklers on, but they ain't working too well.”
Kicker smiled at me, then his eyes flicked up to the bar. He had a quick drink of his beer. “Shame. Real shame... what a sweet peach of an ass. Sweet everything. Just goddamn fucking sweet as sucking a sugar cube. Not as sweet as Cherry of course but I'm kinda biased.”
“Do you mind? Stop eye fucking my ex girlfriend across the bar.”
“Hey, I'm just having some fun, Just looking and thinking, that's all...” he chuckled.
“Well don't,” I kicked him under the table.
“Fuck it, that hurt.”
“Good.”
“You got it bad man. That was kick of true love. Hard and painful.”
“Fuck you.” But I smiled at him. True love? That was kinda funny, considering...
“Obviously she's the one you want to fuck, not me.” He nodded in the direction of the bar.
Pete stretched and placed down his empty bottle.
“If I were a few years younger, I'd be in there like a shot. Ex Mrs Lyle or not.”
“Well you're not and don't you start as well. Is this a conspiracy? Why are you beating me over the head with my fucked up love life?”
Kicker leaned forward across the table. His voice quiet. His expression was serious and concerned.“You do admit it's fucked up then? You've been moping over her like a lovesick fool. Why? What really happened Josh.”
“Guys... just leave me alone, okay?”
Angry with them and myself, I stood up and left the bar. And I couldn't help take a look over my shoulder at the girl I'd thrown away.
Her eye caught mine as she stood drying a glass―her head was held high on her beautiful neck―a neck I wanted to bury my face in forever.
My heart skipped a long, long beat.
Goddamn her.
She was still my girl.
No matter what.
CHAPTER SIX
TIFFANY
I changed into my bike gear and picked up my things, ready to leave. It was running ten minutes late as I offered to do a stock take with Mickey.
I couldn't get over his change of manner. He was pleasant and courteous and even, dare I say it... nice to me. Mickey must have had a personality transplant or a serious life crisis to have changed so much. Not that I was complaining. Whatever his reasons, it was appreciated. It made for a much lighter work environment. And I could definitely do with that, going forward. I smiled at him as I left, walking toward the front door. I wondered if he had a girlfriend? That might be the reason he looked so clean and well dressed.
“Night sweetheart. Thanks for your work today.”
“You're welcome Mickey. See you tomorrow.”
“Okay babe, safe journey.”
I walked out the door a little shakily. I'd got through tonight, despite my state of shock. I tried to forget the fact Joshua had appeared and knocked me for six, twenty times over. I also tried to forget my other big problem. God knows how I was going to handle that.
My mind flew back to him. How good he looked. I harbored a strange mixture of loving hatred for him. How I wanted that guy. My whole body and mind broke into a fever in his presence. I felt torn between killing him, strangling him with my bare hands and kissing every gorgeous inch. I must be sick. Or obsessed. Or just plain fucking stupid. Maybe all three. God knows.
I took the few steps to my bike and heard the sound of footsteps behind me.
I just knew it was him. I held my breath.
I turned and stiffened at the sight of him walking toward me out of the shadow. The whole of my composure started to disappear, fast.
Please don't talk to me... please don't... I can't bear it...
I swung my leg over my bike and fumbled for my key in my pocket, desperate to escape.
He arrived at my side.
“I'm really sorry,” he said.
“You're sorry?” Tears gathered in my eyes and my chest heaved with hurt and confusion. “Don't play games with me. Don't even SPEAK to me. How dare you?”
“I need to say it. So you understand. I really am very sorry.” He brushed a fingertip over my hand and I snatched my hand away like he'd burned me..
The dam broke and I couldn't stop the deluge.
The sobs were so strong, I was almost hysterical in seconds.
“Have you...any idea...how... you made me feel...?” I choked out the words, wiping the tears away frantically with my fingers.
“Like shit I guess. And I've felt like shit too.”
“Oh have you, REALLY? And why? I don't understand. Is this what you do to all girls. Is this what you did to Christie?”
“I don't have any feelings for Christie. Not like I have for you. I know you won't believe me. And I don't expect you to forgive me. I'm just telling you... I'm sorry,” his voice cracked and it made me cry all the more.
I got off my bike and stood facing him.
I didn't care if I looked a state, if my mascara was everywhere and if my face and eyes were screwed up with crying. I wanted him to see it. This was what he'd done. I let him have it full blast.
“I don't forgive you... No... Ever since you met me, you took me over... I tried to fight you, because I didn't want a guy who played around and who'd screw me up... Just when I started to like and respect you and opened myself up to you... you killed me. You stabbed me in the heart. And why? Why?”
He bowed his head and chewed his lip repeatedly. He put his hands together, almost like he was praying for help. He was struggling. Facing me wasn't easy. I knew that. I hope he hurt. I hope he stung with guilt and i
t ripped him apart. Like he'd ripped me apart.
His eyes were glassy as he looked at me. He was having severe problems containing himself.
“Someone told me you were using me for who I was.”
“Using you?... Like how?”
“You know my family owns almost everything round here. My pa is worth millions. I'm his son. Go figure.”
I gasped and choked out a huge sob. But despite the slap in the face I'd just received, I stood up straight and took a step toward him, right in his space.
“You really think that of me. You really do?” I poked him in the chest. “You think that I was only interested in your... goddamn... fucking... money?” I prodded him again pointedly in between the words.
He didn't answer for a moment. He just stood and stared.
Then he spoke, quietly.
“I admit I did, but standing before you right now, I don't feel that way anymore.”
“Oh God... but you did?” I was so choked I could hardly breathe. “And hang on...who told you this?”
“Mickey.”
“And you believed him? What the hell does he know about me? Nothing... nothing at all.” All my good feelings toward Mickey vanished in a puff of smoke. The complete bastard, grassing me up over nothing. Because I wouldn't trick for him or because I stood up to him a little? I did know he'd hinted at this after I'd left him in from the alleyway that time, after he'd discovered the two of us together. That's how and when he'd come to that conclusion.
“Things you'd done and said ate away at me. I overreacted. I didn't want to but I began to believe him.”
I turned in silence, shaking all over and got on my bike, getting out my key with a light head. I felt sick to my stomach. For several good reasons.
“Tiffany please don't go.”
“I've got to. I can't even look at you. How could you? How could you believe Mickey over me? How could you not speak to me about it at all? How could you condemn me as a cheap money grabbing whore without a word. Don't ever speak to me again, Joshua Lyle.”
I started up the engine, walk reversed it in a dreadful state, hardly able to see, and rode off in a mad screeching of tires down the street.
I cried all the way home. God knows how I even got there.