by Lane Hart
“Hailey?” the meddlin’ jerk says into the silence several minutes later.
“What?” I ask. When he doesn’t say anything else, I look back over my shoulder at him and wish I hadn’t. He and his sculpted muscles all stretched out in the most romantic setting ever is like puttin’ a three-layer chocolate cake in front of me and tellin’ me not to eat any. I want him so freakin’ much. Why can’t he put clothes on?
“Come here,” he says, pattin’ the space next to him on the mattress. My face flames at the sinfully temptin’ summons. There is no way I can be that close to him without attackin’ him.
“Ah, no,” I quickly decline.
“Please?”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I’m worried about you.” I want to call bullshit on him because he doesn’t know me, and we just met. But I don’t because of the honesty in his golden green eyes. It’s not fair that he can look so damn good, all big and badass, inflictin’ pain on other men for a livin’, and also have this incredibly soft, sensitive side to him. He’s the complete package, like he was made from a perfect boyfriend kit.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not!” he yells, his deep voice actually startlin’ me so much I jump in my seat. “Fine is not throwing up after you eat. You need help, especially if it’s been going on for a long time.”
“You’re makin’ a big deal out of nothin’,” I tell him. “I throw up once after eatin’ five hundred calories and you’re twistin’ it into somethin’ that it’s not.”
“When was the last time you threw up before lunch today?” he asks. “You don’t have to tell me. I just want you to be honest with yourself about how often you toss your cookies and how long this has been going on.”
“Okay, Dr. Phil, point made. You can let it go now.”
“I’m not letting this go,” he says. “Not until you agree to see someone. But fine, I’ll drop the issue for now.”
I exhale in relief that this uncomfortable conversation is over. He’s awfully young to be so damn bossy. “How old are you?” I ask curiously.
“Twenty. Why?”
Jesus. I’m seven flippin’ years older than him. Now I feel really old and fat. “God, you’re young. You can’t even legally drink!”
“Right, like something as silly as a law stops me?” he replies with a chuckle.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re a stickler for rules,” I remark as my eyes drink him in from his head down to his toes stretched out on the bed like every woman’s wet dream.
“The way I see it, rules are made to be broken,” he says softly, his voice soundin’ deeper. Is it just me or did that sound dirty?
“You seem like the type of guy who breaks a lot of ‘em,” I tease. Okay, so maybe I’m flirtin’ a little.
“I definitely am. It makes life more exciting. But there are some rules that no matter how much fun I know it would be to break them, the consequences are just too…severe. Devastating even.”
Maybe I’m crazy, but it sounds like he’s talkin’ about us. He and I hookin’ up. Wait, is that what Linc said to him earlier on the phone? What did my brother threaten him with? It couldn’t be just an ass kickin’ because Mason is so much bigger than Linc.
“There are only consequences if you get caught,” I point out to him.
He closes his eyes and groans while shakin’ his head. “I can’t take that chance or I’ll risk losing everything I’ve worked so hard for the last nine months.”
That’s when I understand exactly what my brother threatened him with – his fightin’ career at Havoc. Well, fuck.
“And if that wasn’t enough of a deterrent, now there’s also a bro rule thrown in there,” Mason says, referrin’ obviously to my and Senn’s past. “But don’t think I haven’t considered saying to hell with all of the consequences, because I have, thought about it that is, even if I can’t act on it.”
“Uh-huh,” I mumble in shock that he’s admittin’ to actually wantin’ me.
“I have a feeling I’ll be thinking about it a lot. Especially when I’m alone,” he says. My breath catches when his hand teases along his lower abs, fingertips dippin’ underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. Did he just admit that he would stroke his cock while thinkin’ about me? God that’s hot. “But I better think about something else right now.”
He unfortunately removes his hand that was playin’ along his sexy lower stomach and hops off the bed. Mason disappears down to the floor and starts doin’ I don’t know how many push-ups, followed by a bazillion sit-ups, all while I stretch my neck to watch, completely freakin’ captivated at how damn good he looks. My girly parts tingle with arousal, needin’ to be touched so badly it hurts. I’m bakin’ hotter than a pie in July. My entire body is flushed like I have a fever. I’d give anything to lose all my clothin’ that seems to be shrinkin’ and irritatin’ my warm skin.
It’s gonna be a lonnng night.
Suddenly, I remember that I just so happen to have a magic stick of my own in my bag. If there’s ever been a time where I’ve desperately needed my rabbit vibrator, it’s now.
Chapter Five
Mace
On my one thousandth abdominal crunch, I consider picking up the mattress and sitting it out in the hallway. Sure, Debbie, the B&B owner, might think I’m nuts, but I’m not sure how much longer I can handle the temptation of having Hailey and a bed in the same room. Although, it’s not like moving the bed outside would stop the thoughts I have about fucking her. There are plenty of other places in the room for such activities, like the wall, the chaise lounge, the jacuzzi tub, the shower, the counter in the bathroom, the floor, the desk, the chair at the desk. Instead of moving all of that outside, I guess I just need to keep finding distractions.
“I’m gonna take a shower.” With that statement, Hailey jumps up with her small bag, and rushes into the bathroom before I can blink.
Oh, no, she doesn’t!
I quickly get to my feet and follow her. After twisting the knob that’s of course locked, I bang on the door with the side of my fist. “Don’t you dare upchuck or so help me God, we’ll never leave this fucking room!” I threaten her, but don’t get a response. “Hailey? Did you hear me?”
“Jeez, May-Son. Don’t get your britches all in a twist. I’m just takin’ a shower.”
Despite my worry, I can’t help but smile after hearing her southern drawl, saying my name and talking about my “britches.” It’s just too much cuteness, even if it’s hard on my cock. Speaking of cuteness…that gives me an excellent idea for how to shed the constant boner this woman gives me. Besides, there’s not much more physical activity I can do around this room.
Grabbing my cell phone that constantly has a low battery, I find the charger from my bag and plug it in next to the bed. Then, I navigate to one of my favorite websites when I need a laugh, I Can Has Cheezeburger. Nothing like cute, funny animals to help get rid of unwanted wood.
Settling in on the bed, I start scrolling through the memes, laughing aloud at some of the more hilarious ones. After I lost Mandy, I started visiting the site on a daily basis, needing something to try and cheer me up after weeks of sadness. There was this big gaping hole in me that I knew nothing would ever be able to fill. The stupid pictures gave me a few brief moments of happiness when I wasn’t sure if anything could make me laugh again. Over time, I’ve stopped blaming myself and everyone else for Mandy’s death and accepted the fact that she was a grown woman who made her own decisions. Bad decisions, like continuing to use cocaine, despite how many times Claire and I tried to convince her to go into rehab. So yeah, ridiculous pictures and videos of cats and dogs and text messages gone wrong have helped me find a little bit of humor when I feel like hell.
By the time Hailey comes out of the shower, I’m rolling around, shaking with laughter at the black cat with white markings down his nose and over his cheeks. Markings that form the obvious shape of a dick and balls. The furry guy looks so serious, too,
like he has no idea he’s wearing a cock on his cute little face. I bet his owner laughs his ass off every single time he looks at his cat.
“Um, you okay?” Hailey asks me. I sober up and wipe the tears of laughter from my eyes, noticing that she’s changed into a pair of light blue pajama shorts and a white, almost see-through tank top. I’m gonna need a lot more cat pics or my chubby buddy might explode tonight.
“LOL Cats,” I tell her and have to clear the lust from my throat. She keeps looking at me with both eyebrows raised like I’m fucking crazy. Since she remains standing at the foot of the bed as if she’s not sure where to park her fine ass, I try to tempt her into the bed with me. I’m not sure if that’s a brilliant plan or an idiotic one. “Come here and I’ll show you.”
She hesitates a second, biting her bottom lip before finally going around to the other side of the bed and climbing in. I’m sitting up with a pillow behind my back, propped up against the headboard. She follows suit, sitting close enough to see my phone when I hold it between us. I get a whiff of her sweet scent of lavender and flowers from her shower and fight the urge to lean over and bury my nose in her hair. Or between her breasts. Or in the juncture of her thighs. Shaking my head to clear those wayward thoughts, I focus again on the cuteness in front of me.
“This is a site of funny cat pics where people create memes and then post them. See?” I flip through several that put a small smile on her beautiful face before she finally lets loose a giggle or two. After ten minutes and dozens of photos later, she’s so wound up she throws her head back and even snorts with laughter, making me laugh harder.
We spend hours bouncing around the different categories of funny shit on the website. Hailey also loves Autocowrecks and Failbook, the crazy things people end up saying accidently in text messages, and the stupid shit they post on Facebook. When my stomach growls, I look at the time on the phone and realize it’s almost nine o’clock.
“We need to eat something for dinner,” I tell Hailey, and brace myself for her reaction. She doesn’t even look up or acknowledge my question. “What can I get you to eat? I’m pretty sure the restaurant’s still open if I hurry.” Getting up, I start dressing while I wait for her response. “You’re gonna eat something,” I insist, leaving no room for argument.
“Maybe a salad?” she says softly.
“Okay,” I agree. A salad isn’t much, but it’s something. “What about dessert? I think I saw they had homemade peanut butter cake today. You want to try a piece?”
“Um, no, thanks,” she says, which I ignore. If I get cake, maybe she’ll eat it anyway.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her. Before I leave the room, I nab the push key for the bathroom lock from where it’s kept, on the frame high above the door. Then, I lock the door from the inside and pull it closed.
“What are you doin’?” she asks.
“Locking you out of the bathroom,” I tell her as I slip the small key into my tiny front jean pocket so I won’t lose it. I had no idea what that damn little opening was for before now. Bathroom keys, who would’ve guessed?
“You jackass! What if I have to go?” she yells, getting out of bed to come over and try to jiggle the door open. I smile wider when it doesn’t budge.
“I’ll open it when I get back. Until then…hold it,” I tell her before I snatch up my wallet and phone and walk out the door.
The same friendly waitress from lunch takes my to-go order, a chef salad for Hailey, grilled chicken and veggies for me, and two big ass slices of cake. I promise myself that tomorrow I’ll run a few miles on the beach to burn off the calories.
Hailey is still fuming on the bed when I walk back into the room. She looks up from her phone with narrowed eyes before going back to whoever she’s texting or whatever she was doing. I momentarily wonder if it’s Senn, and then want to kick my own ass for caring. Does Linc know about them? He must. Why can’t I be with her, but Senn can? Because he’s older and has more than three hundred bucks in his bank account?
Depressed like usual over barely being able to pay rent, my phone bill, eat and keep the lights on in my apartment, I open one of the plastic cutlery packages, get out a fork, stick it in the styrofoam container holding a pile of lettuce, and take it to Hailey.
“You okay?” she asks, catching me off guard when she accepts the to-go box without hesitating, and even mutters a thank you.
“Yeah, I’m great. Water okay to drink?” I ask. She nods her agreement, so I give her one of the bottles I brought back with me.
Sitting next to her with my own plate, I watch as she eats the healthy entrée with less hesitation than the burger and fries from earlier. Hopefully this meal will stay down, not that I’ll give her a chance to upchuck.
After the last bite of lettuce, no dressing, despite the fact that I brought back one of each flavor since I wasn’t sure which she’d prefer, I tempt her to try a bite of my cake.
“Oh my God,” she mutters around the forkful I feed her. “So damn good! Better than sex.”
“You’re joking, right?” I ask, gladly handing over my styrofoam container of cake to her before retrieving the other one. I fork my own piece of yellow cake with creamy, tan colored icing into my mouth. It doesn’t look like anything special… “Fuckkk,” I groan as I savor the sweetness dissolving on my tongue. I don’t even swallow it before I take another bite, then another. “Not better than sex, but a very close second.”
“Umm,” Hailey moans with her eyes closed as she slowly keeps eating the slice of heaven. Of course that sound and the look of ecstasy on her face causes my cock to swell. “God, May-Son!” Oh yeah, now I’m hard as a rock. “I don’t know whether to slap you or kiss you for bringin’ this shit back.”
Despite how turned on I am sitting next to a gorgeous woman on a bed, making sex sounds and cries of pleasure, including my name, I’m concerned that it’s only a matter of minutes before she purges the delicious dessert and flushes it down the toilet. Not gonna happen. I’ll sit on top of her all night if I have to.
Fuck.
I barely suppress my groan thinking of what I could do if I was on top of her, holding her down.
We finish eating, every single crumb of the cake devoured, and then brush our teeth at the double sink in the bathroom with the door open at my insistence.
Getting ready for bed, I start to undress again. When I unlatch my belt, I make the mistake of glancing over, just as Hailey crawls into bed. Her eyes lock on me, like a tigress getting ready to pounce on her prey. While she may have some deep seeded issues with food, I’m pretty sure she would devour me without a shred of hesitancy. That so doesn’t help my overeager cock. In fact, I have to turn my back to her and reach down to make an adjustment before I turn off the light and climb under the sheets with her less than a foot away.
Settling my head against the pillow, I exhale a breath of pent up horniness and realize that this will be the first time I’ve only slept in a bed with a woman. In fact, even though I know I could easily say to hell with Linc’s warning and Senn calling dibs to fuck her, I decide that I definitely won’t. That’s right, I want to prove to myself that I’m not controlled by Chubs, who is currently trying his best to sneak out of the dick hole of my boxer briefs. God knows I want her, but Linc’s right, Hailey is too emotionally fragile for a no strings attached fuck fest. She deserves romantic shit, like flowers, fancy dinners and carriage rides, not a man like me who can’t afford to give her any of the above. At least not until I win my next fight. And I…I’m not supposed to fool around with random women. Doing so would be callous and end up hurting the women in my life who I’m not ready to lose.
“Good night, gorgeous,” I tell her in the darkness.
“Night, May-Son,” she replies, laying down with her back to me.
I’m just happy to have gotten her to say my name one last time tonight, even slower than her normal southern drawl since she sounds sleepy.
I close my eyes and am just about to drift off to sl
eep when the mattress shifts. “Where are you going?” I mumble.
“I have to pee, you nosy bastard.”
“You get one minute,” I tell her seriously. She exhales a heavy sigh but doesn’t respond before shuffling into the bathroom. I listen closely and relax when I hear the toilet flush and then she’s climbing back to bed.
I give her time to settle in. She pulls the covers over herself, this time facing me. Once she’s still, I reach out and feel around for her hand. Finding it clutching her pillow, I grab it and pull it over to my side of the bed, tucking both my hand and hers underneath my head.
“What are you doing?” she asks, trying to tug her hand out of my grasp. Good fucking luck.
“Making sure you stay put.”
“Let me go,” she says in a huff, continuing to try to pull away from my hold.
“No. I don’t trust you,” I tell her. “That cake was too good for you to throw up. And you…you’re too beautiful and perfect to do that to yourself.”
“Whatever,” she grumbles softly.
“I’m not sure what bizarre fashion world you live in, but men love curves, not stick thin chicks with no tits or ass,” I explain to her. “They look like malnourished, prepubescent boys, which is not sexy. You’re sexy.”
“Men might like curves, but they definitely don’t like giant women.”
“The only thing better than a woman with curves is one with gorgeous, mile long legs.”
“Except when the woman’s taller than the man,” she adds.
I consider that for a second and can’t imagine a knockout like Hailey with a dude who’s shorter. “Okay, I’ll give you that one. You are way too hot for short fuckers. Their loss, but you shouldn’t have to slouch and give up heels, hiding all that sexiness just to get on their level and appease a little man’s ego.” I sing her the way too appropriate lyrics of the Tal Bachman song, “She’s So High” about a woman who’s first class and perfect, so what could a guy like me ever really offer her? The chorus pops into my mind every time I look at her, and not just because of her height. She’s so high above me in every way possible.