FURIOUS

by Honey Palomino

  Her eyes darted back down to my crotch, and she raised an eyebrow.

  “I didn’t,” she murmured, raking her gaze back up until she peered into my eyes, that smile tugging at the corner of her lips again.

  “Good,” I said, swallowing hard. “I think we should go on a date.”

  “A date?”

  “Sure.”

  “I thought we just had a date,” she said, biting her lip.

  “Did we?”

  “I’d say so,” she nodded. “Wouldn’t you?”

  I paused, my cock prodding me on with its incessant throbbing. Jackie pushed her shoulders back, her breasts hovering between us like a gift-wrapped invitation. Her tongue darted out and she licked her top lip, pushing me past my threshold, hurtling me way beyond the limits of any resistance that remained.

  “Yes, I’d say so,” I said, my mouth crashing onto hers in a flash of unleashed lust. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me closer as she pulled me inside.

  I kicked the door shut behind me, and pressed her against it, kissing her with everything I’d been holding back since I’d first laid eyes on her.

  Her sultry moans played in my head like a siren’s song.

  CHAPTER 15

  GRACE

  Dottie cooked up a breakfast feast. Awoken to the smell of coffee, the three of us made our way downstairs like a herd of hungry elephants. Eggs, bacon, sausage, grits, biscuits and gravy, chocolate chip pancakes, fresh squeezed orange juice and platters of fresh fruit greeted us.

  “This is way too much, Dottie,” I said.

  “It’s been so long since I had people to cook for, I got a little carried away,” she said. “Just eat what you can.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Fury said, taking a seat at the table and digging in. “I’m starved.”

  “Were you out late last night?” Ryder asked.

  “Just had a few drinks at the bar and headed back home,” he replied.

  “It’s impossible to stay out late in this town,” Dottie said. “The bars close at eleven.”

  “I bet the townsfolk don’t like that,” I said.

  She shrugged.

  “Well, that’s another one of Bodhi Green’s rules. Not much anyone could do about it even if they wanted to.”

  “Dottie, how would one get a job with Green if they wanted?” Fury asked.

  “Outside of having something he needs? I guess you’d just go and ask. Pledge undying loyalty and maybe a few limbs, should the need arise.”

  “Where’s his office?”

  “Right on Main Street. Can’t miss it. Across from the Thriftway, in the big white house.”

  “Any other tips for landing a job?”

  “Appeal to his ego. He’s his favorite subject,” she laughed. “Although, I can’t imagine why anyone would want to work for that miserable sonofabitch.”

  “Tell us how you really feel,” I replied, laughing.

  “I’ve said too much already,” she replied, giving me a quick wink before she wandered back into the kitchen.

  “Looks like I’m going ego-stroking today,” Fury said.

  “Good luck with that,” I said. “We need to get close to him. Say whatever’s necessary to get your foot in the door. Molly needs us.”

  “Say no more,” Fury said. “I’m a great bullshitter.”

  “We’ll be here if you need anything,” Ryder said, his mouth full of grits. “Eating till we bust a gut, apparently.”

  We laughed and finished breakfast in silence. It felt a little uncomfortable for me to be putting this entire job in Fury’s hands, but his plan was the best we had at the moment. If it didn’t work, we’d just have to take our chances and try to get Molly out of there by other means.

  In the meantime, all I could do was hope it worked and hope that Green didn’t hurt her anymore before we could get her out of there.

  CHAPTER 16

  JACKIE

  Every time the bell over the door rang, I jumped.

  After all these years, I’d learned to tune it out, but today it was like a fog horn, periodically ripping me from the trance I’d been under ever since Fury’s lips seared mine last night.

  He was hotter than anything I’d ever laid hands on.

  His kiss seemed to have burned the shape of his lips into mine, because all day it was if they were still there. The weight of his thick hands on my hips lingered on my skin and my hands kept finding their way back there all morning, as if searching out the heat of his palms.

  But the thing that stuck with me the most was the intense, smoldering look in his dark-as-night eyes, a storm brewing just behind the surface. You could almost see the lightning striking in each flash of lust that rolled over him. His kiss was an unleashed wave of passion that barreled over me, dissipating any resistance I might still have possessed.

  There wasn’t much, though.

  Never one for shyness or restraint, I thought I’d given him every sign possible throughout the night. As he walked me home, I was certain he’d gotten the hint that I was ready for anything. Tara liked to call it ‘down-to-fuck’, or DTF, for short, but I liked to think I was classier than that. At least in my word choice. I mean, a lady has to maintain some sense of dignity, right?

  I was merely ‘open to possibilities’.

  See how much better that sounds?

  I’d done my part. I smiled, I laughed at his jokes, I leaned into his body, and I’d asked him to walk me home, even grabbing his hand myself, without waiting for any sign from him. The way he looked at me told me everything I needed to know, though.

  He was gruff and maybe a bit shy himself, but he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. I was sure of it.

  So, when he left so promptly, I’d gone upstairs to mope because my signals hadn’t gotten through. As I was getting ready for bed, the knock at the door caught me off-guard. I was hoping like hell it wasn’t Hank, my ex-asshole-of-a-boyfriend, as I ran down the stairs to the front door.

  Seeing Fury standing there again, with that look on his face, those eyes so full of smoke and lust? It made me weak in the knees.

  And yet, still, after all that…he was still a gentleman.

  He’d only come back for a kiss. Or two. Or three…

  They were like getting hit by the force of an explosion.

  But then, after rendering me helplessly weak-kneed, he’d simply pulled away again, flashed me a sexy smile, asked me out on a proper date, kissed me once more, and disappeared into the night like a recurring dream that just keeps getting better and better.

  That’s why I couldn’t stop looking at the door, wondering if he’d show up this morning, if I’d have yet another, even-better-than-before encounter with him. At the rapid rate of improvement we were experiencing, I was hoping I’d have him in my bed not long after our next interaction.

  “You look like you’ve been set on fire,” Tara said, as we waited for the coffee maker to finish brewing during a rare break in the breakfast rush.

  I couldn’t help but smile at her.

  “What did you do?” she asked, with raised eyebrows.

  “Remember that guy? Fury?” I whispered, making sure nobody else was around to hear me.

  “How could I forget, dork?”

  “He was at the bar last night when I got there.”

  “And?”

  “And we hung out,” I said, shrugging.

  “And?”

  “And he walked me home,” I said, teasing her with a smile.

  “Girl, get to the good part!”

  “Nothing happened,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Bullshit. A man like that? Please.”

  “Well. At first, nothing happened. He said goodnight and left me at my door,” I said.

  “How gentlemanly,” she said, rolling her eyes in frustration.

  “But then he came back,” I said, my voice lowering, my body buzzing at the thought of it all.

  “Oooh, now that’s better,” she said, flipping her long ponytai
l over her shoulder and leaning in to me. “Tell me everything! I bet he has the biggest cock, doesn’t he? It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What! You said he came back,” she complained.

  “He did. It was so fucking hot, Tara,” I said, the words falling out of my mouth. “He pushed me up against the wall and kissed me like I’d never been kissed before. He’s so huge, he basically engulfed me, but he’s so damned sexy and oh, lord, it was so incredible.”

  “He pushed you up against the wall and kissed you like nobody’s business, and you don’t know how big his cock is? Girl, if you told him no I’m going to have to disown you.”

  “It wasn’t me!” I insisted. “I was…I was…you know…”

  “What?”

  “You know…ready…DTF.”

  “Down to fuck?” she shouted with laughter, her howling amusement echoing into the dining room.

  “Shut up!” I hissed.

  “Girl, please don’t tell me you used that phrase with him.”

  “What! God, no! I’m just telling you, jeez. I was ready, that’s all. But he insisted that we should go on a proper date first. I mean, it was obvious he wanted to….you know.”

  “Fuck?”

  “Yes! I’m just saying. It was hot, that’s all. The kissing.”

  “So all you did was kiss?”

  “Yes!”

  “Not even a grope to size up what we’re dealing with?”

  “No! God! No…”

  “Well, that’s cool and all, but I expected a lot more from Mr. Anger.”

  “I never should have told you,” I said, rolling my eyes. “And his name is Fury.”

  “Fury. Rage. Fire, whatever. All the same. For someone who looks like he burns through pussy, he sure does move slow.”

  “Tara!” I hissed. “Why do you have to be so crude?”

  “I’m not crude. I’m blunt. There’s a difference,” she said.

  “You should be more ladylike,” I said.

  “Being ladylike doesn’t get you laid, and you, my dear, are a shining example of that!”

  I laughed, shaking my head.

  “I guess.”

  “Girl, next time a man throws you up against the wall and kisses you like that, there’s only one thing you’re supposed to do next.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, wrinkling my forehead.

  “Drop to your knees.”

  “Oh, God, Tara, you’re so fucking ridiculous. And that’s so…wrong.”

  “You’re right, he should have dropped to his knees. But still. Someone’s going down and it sounds like your man went the wrong direction if he went out the door.”

  “He’ll be back. I’ll see him again,” I said, the bell over the front door ringing and reminding me that I was supposed to be doing my job at the same time it sent a shiver of hope to my heart.

  “Soon, I hope. The waiting’s killing me,” Tara said.

  “I’m cooking him dinner at my place tonight. I’ll keep you posted,” I said, kissing her quickly on the cheek and walking back into the dining room with a belly full of butterflies as I wondered who had walked in.

  My heart sank when I saw Hank standing there.

  His red ball hat was backwards on his head, his black Carhartt jacket was stained with mud and his faded blue Levi’s hung off his skinny frame the way they did every single day.

  Nothing much changed about Hank, and that was the problem.

  Hank was lazy, mean and boring and nothing would ever change that.

  Guess how I know?

  Yep. I’m one of those girls who was plagued with the unbreakable belief that she could somehow change a man’s ways. All I needed was enough love and patience and I believed I could work miracles in Hank Hawthorne’s life. I tried getting him a better job, a better place to live, and I was certain if I stayed positive, my outlook on life would rub off on him, too.

  Somehow, it turned out completely different. Hank rubbed off on me over the years, and once I realized that I was becoming as lazy and boring and cynical as him, I knew I had to leave him.

  I’d begun to believe I deserved the way he was treating me and not long after that, he began to believe it too. The first time he laid his hands on me, I knew I had to leave.

  Deciding to leave was the easy part.

  Untangling myself from him was still proving to be difficult.

  As soon as he saw me emerge from the kitchen, he made a beeline for me, trailing through the busy dining room like an angry bull on a mission.

  “I’m busy, Hank,” I said in greeting, refusing to stop.

  “Who’s your new boyfriend?” he barked, following me.

  I rolled my eyes and turned away, muttering. “Fucking Pete…”

  “Pete said you sat at the end of the bar at Jack’s and flirted with some stranger all fucking night. And he said you left together. Drunk.”

  “Pete needs to keep his mouth shut,” I said. “And he’s not my boyfriend. Just some guy I met.”

  “Where did you meet him?”

  “Hank, this is none of your business!” I said, seething. “It’s been a year. A year, Hank!”

  “I don’t fucking care,” he said. “And you broke up with me, I didn’t break up with you, so technically it doesn’t count.”

  “What?” I asked, bewilderedly. “You’re insane.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But if I am, it’s all your fault. You made me this way.”

  I grabbed a full coffee pot and pushed it between us.

  “Leave me alone,” I said, pushing past him.

  “I’m watching you,” he said, his voice a low warning, which only served to piss me off even more. I turned back quickly, letting a little of the coffee spill out onto his shirt. He flinched but held my gaze.

  “You’re mine, Jacqueline. You always will be.”

  “I will never be yours again, Hank.” I growled. “Move on with your life. Go date Sheri, she’s been barking up your tree for years. In the meantime, stay out of my business and stay out of my diner. Got it?”

  I turned away and walked to the booth in the far corner, ignoring him until he finally sulked out in anger. Fine, I thought, let him be mad. I was mad, too. Pete, the bartender down the block, was going to get a tongue lashing next time I saw him. I mean, sure there were no secrets in this town, at least not any that lasted for very long, but did he really feel the need to go and spill my business so fast? And to Hank, of all people? Pete knew our history — hell, he’d witnessed most of it go down first hand considering how many nights Hank and I spent arguing at the pool table and getting drunk together.

  It seemed like so long ago. And yet, it was just a year ago that I’d figured out it was time for me to leave. That exact moment just so happened to coincide with the exact moment Hank decided to half-heartedly propose to me. He’d gotten down on one knee, but that’s where the romance ended. I could still see it now, with such crystal-clear clarity that I was afraid the sight would never leave my memory.

  He was sloppy drunk, we’d been arguing all night about him failing to come up with the rent he’d promised to give me, and I was fed up with his excuses. He knew I was at the end of my rope with him. I’d been avoiding his touch and his blunt, incessant nagging for sex for weeks, ever since he’d roughly grabbed my arm during an argument, pretending I was asleep when he crept up on me in the middle of the night. I’d been on the verge of kicking him out of the house all day when he’d convinced me to go get a drink at Jack’s.

  So, there I was, coming out of the women’s room, when Hank stopped me in front of the men’s, the aroma of fresh piss wafting out the door like a pungent summer breeze each time the door opened and closed right behind him.

  He’d fallen to his knees, and at first, I just figured the tequila was getting to him and I reached down to help him up, a frustrated grimace on my face. Then, he held out the tab ring from the top of a beer can. I stared down at him in confusion, shaking my head.r />
  “What are you doing?” I asked, gruffly.

  “Marry me, Jackie.”

  “Huh?” I asked, dumbstruck, my eyes darting from the beer tab and back to his bloodshot eyes.

  “Will you pleasssse do me,” he slurred, then burped, before continuing, “the honor of being my wife forever till death do us part?”

  It was then that it hit me that he was offering the beer tab to me as an engagement ring and was actually crazy enough to think that not only would it fit me, but after the day we’d had of fighting and screaming at each other, that I would actually commit to a lifetime of his bullshit.

  “We are so done, Hank,” I said, shaking my head, looking down at him with pity. “Get your shit out of the house tomorrow. Don’t come home tonight.”

  I brushed past him, causing him to wobble over onto his side, the beer tab falling out of his hand and skimming under the cigarette machine. As far as I knew, it was probably still there now, waiting to assault some other unsuspecting woman with a nightmare marriage proposal.

  “Baby, I love you!” I could still hear him whining as I walked out the door of Jack’s bar, but that walk home? Oh, boy, it was the best I’d felt in years.

  The days had only gotten better since then.

  Living alone turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Waking up each day and realizing that I never had to pick up after his lazy, drunk ass again was like giving myself a gift that kept on giving.

  I hadn’t been really interested in anyone but myself since then, outside of that one night stand I mentioned earlier, but that didn’t change anything.

  Now that I’d met Fury, though…

  Yeah, I guess you could call this interest.

  Also, ‘lust’, ‘desire’, ‘hunger’ and the ‘urge to trace every tattoo on his body with my tongue’. I’m not sure there’s a word for that, but whatever it is, that’s me.

  By the time the breakfast rush was over and the lunch rush passed by without a glimpse of him, I knew he wasn’t coming in today.

  I’d have to settle for the memories — memories of his lips, his tongue, those eyes, that low, sexy laugh of his…