by Aven Jayce
I stand with my hands pressed against the marble tiled wall with my eyes closed and the water streaming down my face. “I’m a badass, Dad,” I whisper. “A fucking badass, just like you always wanted.”
“You have the face of a pansy,” my father scowls while gripping the back of my neck, forcing me to stare into the bathroom mirror. “Look at yourself, a fucking blonde haired, blue-eyed, replica of your mother. I don’t even think you’re mine.”
A tear rolls down my cheek that I quickly wipe away. “You never say these things to Sophie,” I whimper, starting to feel sickened by my appearance.
“Your sister’s beautiful. She came out with dark hair and chestnut eyes like me. A badass. The Jameson genes are evident in her. What happened to you, Mark? You look like a fucking sunflower.” He clutches my chin and lifts my head so I can’t turn away. “How the fuck are you going to survive being such a pretty boy? Men will call you a faggot.”
“Dad, stop,” I whisper. “You’re hurting me.”
He smacks the top of my head and backs away. “Look in the mirror and say you’re a badass.”
“I don’t want to,” I murmur.
“You need to toughen up on the inside, or maybe I should break your nose so don’t look so feminine. That might help.”
I put my hand over my face in defense and he laughs.
“Oh, my little Marky.” He shakes his head. “Your eyelashes are longer and darker than a woman wearing thick mascara and your lips look like they have a coat of pink lipstick on them.”
I turn to the mirror with a furrowed brow and scrunch my nose at my reflection.
“Better. Now make a fist and say you’re a badass.”
“I’m a badass,” I whisper.
He laughs and calls me a loser under his breath. “Sophia, come here,” he calls out. “Sophia!”
A moment later my little sister pokes her head through the bathroom door and giggles.
“Hey, kiddo. Are you tough?” my father asks.
She raises her arms, pretending to make two muscles, tightens her lips and yells, “Me badass! Rarrr!” Then runs off in laughter.
“That’s my kid,” he mutters, with a second slap to my head as he leaves me alone to face my reflection in the mirror.
My Calvin Klein face ended up making my father a shitload of money when I was one of his porn stars, and his constant verbal abuse turned me into the mean-tempered asshole he wanted, but I never pleased him enough to be called his son.
And he wouldn’t be proud of me now, either. Not if he found out I killed a guy because of a woman.
He’d say, It was over pussy? What the fuck’s wrong with you?
I wrap a towel around my waist and put a fresh bandage on my knuckle, but avoid the new mirror my maintenance team installed yesterday.
A text came in from Jules while I was in the shower—an unnecessary apology.
Sorry ‘bout last night. Didn’t mean to make this all about me. Do over?
I text her back. Need you here. Come talk to me.
Twenty minutes. She responds.
My growing erection twitches under the towel. I can’t wait to touch her, smell her, slip my fingers inside of her and lick her pussy.
Two pieces of pine are placed on the fire and my window shades are closed. The room is comfortable, quiet, and warm. I do plan on having a conversation with her, but I know we won’t make it past my living room if I decide to kiss her, and I think she may be deserving of a kiss today.
I keep a watchful eye for her from my office cams, checking on the rest of the hotel as I wait. One of my pool boys is netting the Aspen leaves from the water, a few people are eating lunch, and a woman sits alone at the restaurant bar, which won’t be open for a few more hours. She’s either an alcoholic or looking for solitude. The lobby’s quiet, checkout’s over, and check-in’s not for a while. All is well... wait... for Christ’s sake.
I zoom in on the staff parking lot and see Julia’s car. She’s in the back seat with her feet in the air, slipping out of a pair of jeans and into her work clothes. For a moment, I think she’s screwing around with some asshole, but after fixing her shiny blonde hair in the rear view mirror, she steps out with a towel and a small bag... alone. I follow her with the cam to the pool changing area, where she walks into the women’s room.
“Why are you getting dressed in your car?” I whisper. “Where are you coming from?”
I wait patiently until she reappears and walks outside, tossing the bag and towel into the backseat.
“Fuck,” I mumble, pushing my chair away from the desk. I put on a dress shirt and hear a knock on the door, answering it while still buttoning the front.
“Nice.” She smiles with bright red lips. “Leave it open. Actually, take it off, the towel too. I owe you something after taking off last night, don’t you think?”
She walks in and I lock the door, continuing to button my shirt without answering.
“Mark,” she says and stops my hand. “Don’t give me the silent treatment, I’m sorry, okay?”
The expression on her face is always genuine. Whether she’s in a loving mood, enraged, or apologetic, it’s never forced. I love that about her.
I take two soda waters from my fridge and she gladly accepts one of them.
“We should talk,” I say softly. “I have some questions before we fool around... if we fool around.” I motion to my sofa and she takes a seat. I’m no longer aroused after seeing her use my hotel like it’s a... hotel.
“His name’s Roland,” she says. “I was hoping by now you would’ve let that conversation from last night go.”
I play along, acting like I don’t know anything about the guy.
“Who? The guy who hurt you?”
“Yes.”
“Roland sounds like the name of a pet pig,” I pause, “and I will let it go temporarily, but that doesn’t mean I’m not pissed about it,” as she would expect me to be.
She nods and whispers thank you.
“But we have other things to discuss,” I exhale, placing my drink on one of my end tables.
“It’s alright, Mark, I understand.”
“Understand what?” I face her with my arm resting on the back of the sofa.
“That you can’t be with me anymore because I have weird baggage. I don’t blame you.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Really?” She’s hopeful. “Then what?”
I slide her closer and trail my finger along her forehead, temple, cheek, to her small chin, then around to the back of her neck, bringing her mouth to mine. Her skin smells like a fresh spritz of flowery perfume and her lips taste like peppermint. Two kisses in less than a day... Jesus, I’m losing it.
Her hand works its way under my towel but she sighs when she finds my cock flaccid.
“Tell me something, Jules.” I look deeply into her eyes and my caressing hand on the back of her neck changes to a firm grip. “Where’d you sleep last night?”
She tries to pull back but I refuse to loosen my hold.
“What does it matter?” She pushes my arm away and rubs her neck. “As far as I can tell, we’re not in a relationship, so I shouldn’t have to answer that question, especially since you never open up about anything in your life.”
“Bullshit.” I stand and put another log on the fire. “That’s complete bullshit,” I repeat, needing to keep my hands occupied or something’s gonna break. “It matters to me and just because I didn’t want to discuss Dayne doesn’t mean that the rest of my life is off limits.”
“Let me repeat,” she says assertively. “I think we have a good time fooling around with one another, but there hasn’t been much else to make this—”
“I asked you to dinner last night.”
“Yeah, and you got moody and left me alone.” She crosses her slim legs and leans forward.
“So... you’re saying you want to date, like we’re i
n high school or something. Hell, the last person I dated was my ex-wife and that was over fifteen years ago. I’m a grown man, Jules. I’m not going to—”
“So you just fuck people? See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t get me wrong, I love sucking your cock, Mark, and if that’s all you ever want from me, fine, but every once in a while I see something in your eyes that tells me there might be more to all of this. Perhaps that’s all just wishful thinking on my part,” she says with uncertainty.
Put up or shut up time. I should’ve done this last night.
“Everyone in this hotel always talks about your good looks, but I notice other things about you, like the fact that you’re a smart businessman, and when I hear you talk to vendors and some of the guests you come across as intelligent and knowledgeable about what’s going on in the world. A lot of people don’t give a shit about things outside their hometown. You’re not one of them.”
“Stop,” I whisper, losing my train of thought.
“You’re a warrior in the bedroom.” She smiles. “A domineering fucker, but you’ve revealed a softer side that’s been hidden away. The fact that you care about my past and that someone hurt me was a telling sign last night.”
“Enough.”
“I also find you mysterious, a little dangerous, and haunting my every thought.” She stands and moves closer. “And your fingers mimic your words, sometimes gentle and calm reaching deep inside of me.” She takes my hand and slides it under her skirt. “And other times they can be disciplinary and cruel.”
I breathe heavily and slip one inside her warm body. She moans and closes her eyes.
“Discipline me, Mark.” Her head rests against my chest as my finger glides around her pussy. “Punish me for falling for you.”
“Fuckin’ A,” I respond to her leering tone with a hard swallow. Hell, this woman got me stiff in thirty seconds. “Look at me,” I command.
She obeys with a roused expression and unbuttons my shirt. My nipples are sucked and kissed with great desire.
“Jules,” I pant, “tell me where you slept last night. I need to know.”
She unzips then drops her skirt, taking off her sweater and bra, standing with only a thong on her body.
I drop my towel as she positions her chest over the arm of the sofa, her head down and ass high in the air.
“Give me the works,” she whispers. “I don’t want to feel like I’m a part of your life when I’m not. Hurt me so that I hate you.” She looks at me with pleading eyes, waiting to feel pain.
“Never,” I scorn.
She rises slowly from my response, wanting to hear more.
“You know I’m a sucker for this type of play, but only because it’s always been pleasurable for both of us. I can’t give you what you’re asking for right now.” I wrap my towel back around my waist. “It’s not what I want.”
HOOKED
JULIA’S REELED ME IN and now she has me in a small white bucket, unable to swim away and with little room to turn around. Jumping out at this point would only leave me flopping on the ground and gasping for air. All I can do is stay and wait for her to prepare my body to be pan fried, eaten, and shit out.
I’m rather fond of her.
She pulled that act so my true colors would show, thinking she’d be a sneaky little bitch when all along I knew what she was doing. By her blissful expression, I could tell she was pleased with my response and is now fully aware my dick isn’t going to disappear after one dip. She trusts me. And thankfully I didn’t have to say much for her to finally get the drift. The term ‘dating’ is something she needs to erase from her vocabulary, but seeing one another is fine. Those were my words.
I want to see you.
I have to laugh at the irony of being bound to a woman who I haven’t even fucked yet.
And I was clear when I put my towel back on that her response about her whereabouts angered the fuck out of me—enough that our playtime before work was over before it even began.
I’m running on a meager three hours of sleep. The adrenaline from the kill has worn off and I’ve spent six hours in my office, going over the budget and financial records with my hotel manager, and trying to figure out where the fuck Dayne’s staying or if he’s even in town.
I didn’t expect to see him yesterday, but am surprised he didn’t show his face again today. He wants me to get all fidgety and paranoid, which isn’t going to happen. And I may have shed one of my blades after the last kill, but I have plenty more. One of them surely has his name on it.
Nine o’clock.
I watched Julia throughout the evening, but kept my distance so I could get some work accomplished. She knew I was busy and it’s not unusual for us to have days apart or even not cross paths, which means she’s also unsuspecting of my truck trailing three cars behind hers, along Route 50, after her shift ends.
It’s dark and with the headlights shining in her rear view mirror, it would be impossible for her to spot the pursuit. She’s left me no choice but to find the answers myself.
After a five-minute drive we arrive in town. She circles the downtown shopping area before parking behind an old church. I pull into a lot across the street and watch from my truck as she tugs on the side door of the stone building, then the front, with no luck. Both are locked. She returns to her car, defeated.
“I knew it,” I whisper.
I send her a text.
Plans tonight?
She smiles when she reads the message, but after staring at her cell for a few minutes, she puts it away and never responds.
“Now where to?”
I pursue at a distance from the church to one of the handful of secluded lakefront parks. It’s closed, but she drives her beat up Toyota Corolla around the barricade and vanishes down the dark road.
“Fuck, Jules.” I squeeze my Tacoma through the same space; barely making it without a scratch, then turn off my lights and park next to the first picnic area I see. She won’t be far from here, the park’s not very big, and she’ll have to come back this way if she decides to leave.
I pull out my gun, concerned more about the bears than the drifters in this area, and maintain a steady pace off the pavement to quiet my footfalls.
The lights of her car ignite the lake ahead where she’s parked next to a small restroom. She takes a sleeping bag from her trunk, turns off the engine, and settles into the backseat. She needs her neck ringed for being such a fucking dumbass. This area sucks for a young woman to be all alone, not to mention the low temperature. She’s going to freeze.
To hell if I’ll let this happen. I text a warning so she’s prepared.
Don’t be scared. I’m here.
Her cell illuminates the inside of her car and a second later her head appears over the back seat, searching for a man approaching in the dark.
She opens her door with a doleful expression from being caught.
I slide in next to her and she locks us inside. There’s a steak knife next to my foot, something she probably uses for protection. Other random items, mostly clothing, jewelry, and packaged food are also on the floor and passenger seat.
I’m silent, waiting for my heart to slow, my gut to relax, and my head to unwind. She’s not staying here.
“What the fuck are you doing?” My mouth is taut with fury and even though I’m whispering, she knows I’m upset.
“I can’t believe you followed me.”
“You should’ve answered me earlier.”
“Maybe where I sleep is none of your business.”
“Don’t fuck with me. You can’t sleep here, Jules. I won’t allow it.”
“Well, the police have a shit fit when I sleep in the shopping center parking lots.”
I throw my head back and exhale. “Fuck. How long have you been living in your car?”
“A while.”
“A month? Two months? Fucking talk to me.”
“Alright. Since
last spring.” She raises her voice.
“Why?”
“Why?” She looks speechless that I would ask such a question. “What? Do you think I’m a druggie or something? Think about it, Mark. I work thirty hours a week and make twelve dollars an hour. After taxes I’m living on twelve hundred a month. I have to buy food and gas; pay for my car insurance, health care, my P.O. box and a storage unit. I have a student loan too. It’s not enough. I can’t afford an apartment right now and I haven’t been able to find a second job.”
“Don’t you have any friends... family... and what the hell did you think you were going to do in the winter? You’ll freeze to death!” I yell. “And why didn’t you tell me? This is total bullshit.”
“Christ, don’t you get it? I stay with friends sometimes, but I can’t do it every night. They can’t support me. And my parents said I needed to figure things out on my own. They can’t support me either. I can tell you come from money. You wouldn’t understand,” she sighs.
I place my gun and coat on the floor and put my hands on the back of my neck. I breathe deeply, feeling restricted at the moment, and needing to regain my composure. She hasn’t a clue about my past. No one does except my sister. We were dirt poor after my father left and had to scrape by just to eat. If my mother could’ve figured out a way to sell the two of us for a little extra cash, she would have. It wasn’t until I was out of high school that my father reappeared with the big bucks from his casinos and porn company.
She places a hand on my leg. “Mark, I’ll be fine. No need to pity me. Now take your pursed lips and go home.”
A snicker suddenly transforms my stern face. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not leaving you here. You can stay with me tonight. Tomorrow I’ll set you up with your own room so you can have a little privacy and not have to worry about me attacking your tits all day.”
“Mark, I...”
“I’m not ready for us to live together, but that doesn’t mean I can handle you living in this car.” I take her hand. “For fuck’s sake, Jules, I own my own hotel. Start your engine and get your ass back there. This isn’t a debate, it’s a demand.”