by Lucian Bane
“I’m sure you could.” She set food before him, placing everything just right, like he was important. It made him feel uncomfortable and unsure of what to do with himself.
“You’re not used to getting served, I see.”
“I’m not used to a lot of things you do.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, setting packs of sauce out for him to choose from. “You and me both, Bonesy.” Her hand froze momentarily. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine.” As long as she wasn’t mocking, he didn’t care so much. “I might miss hearing that name.”
“I know you do,” she whispered in understanding. It wasn’t pity, which he was relieved for. “Are those tattoos real? Are they edible?” she whispered, mocking the girls again.
He smiled. “You sound jealous.”
She shot several glances at him as she got her own food situated. “You sound happy about that.”
He shrugged. “I think it’s funny.”
“Funny, huh?”
He stirred his food, mixing it all up the way Reginald usually liked. “Maybe cute.”
She took a sip from her drink, nodding. “Cute is better than funny. I can handle cute. It doesn’t bother me that they all want you, you’re drop dead gorgeous. I’m sure they’re wondering why you’re with me.”
He struggled with an answer, not wanting to say something stupid. “Good, let them wonder,” he said as he took his first bite that turned out to be, “Wow, amazing.”
“Ohhh, let me taste,” she gasped, taking a forkful into her mouth. He didn’t mean to watch but it involved her lips and he couldn’t help himself. “Mmmm,” she said, her tongue sweeping out to catch the juice. He realized he’d been waiting for exactly that. She angled her eyes at him as she ate.
He returned his attention to his own food when the group of girls from earlier decided they’d eat at the table right next to theirs.
“Here we go, they can’t get enough of you,” Winter muttered.
“Stupid,” he mumbled.
“You can’t blame them, you’re really, really, really, hot.” He smirked at her and she fanned her face. “Burning up. Smokin. You need to learn how to wear it.”
He shook his head wanting out of the spotlight. “Wear it, huh?”
“That’s right.”
“You wear it well.”
“Wear what well,” she muttered, slurping her drink. “My Dollar General duds?”
He shook his head, grinning. “Not your Dollar General duds.”
“My sunglasses you won’t let me wear? My makeup?”
“Not that either.”
She drew away a little. “Are you complimenting me?”
“I’m trying,” he said laughing a little. “You’re not easy.”
“I’m not easy, no. Even as a whore—”
“Don’t… say that,” he mumbled.
“What? Whore? I’m not ashamed, I did what I did, no use crying over it now.”
“Well, it’s over, no use talking about it either.”
She regarded him, putting her elbow on the table and pointing her fork at him. “You’re embarrassed?” She turned back to her food and nodded. “I get it,” she mumbled. “Nobody wants to flash they’re with a whore.”
“You’re not a whore,” he said.
“You know what I mean. Do I look like a whore?” she suddenly asked, curious before getting back to eating. “Somebody said you can tell a whore and I used to always wonder if you could tell I was.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I want to say you wouldn’t tell me if I did, but I’m thinking maybe you would.”
A week ago, yes, he would. In a heartbeat. “Maybe.” He took another bite, suddenly not that hungry.
One of the giggly girls walked up to their table and put a piece of paper on it, then ran back.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Winter whispered, looking at him.
“I’m not touching it,” he said, taking another bite then putting the lid back on his food, ready to go.
“Just read it.”
“You read it, maybe it’s for you.”
She snatched the piece of paper and opened it. “Yep, it’s for you. It’s a phone number.”
He took the paper from her and crumpled it up, then tossed it on the floor. “Let’s go, I’m ready.” He moved to stand, putting his back to the bitches before he ended up doing or saying something he’d regret.
“We should take all this, right?” she said, gathering the food. He helped her put it all in a bag, not happy with how immune she seemed to being treated like shit. Reginald would’ve definitely been pissed. What did they think she was, his sister? Mother? Aunt? They should assume she was with him as a girlfriend. But then he didn’t really do anything with her to imply she was.
“What’s wrong?” And there it was, that concern she always managed to have even when he’d been nothing but… a dick for the most part. She cast a look toward the girls when they laughed at something, but judging by the look in her eyes, she was sure it was at her.
Bones took her face in his hands and leaned in, giving her the kind of kiss an obsessed boyfriend would give. She gave a small gasp of surprise and he used that moment to push her mouth open more. He’d just wanted to show her she was worth more than she gave herself credit for, but he’d forgotten how weak he was with her. God, she tastes so fucking good. Unbearable hunger gripped him hard and he held her face tighter, groaning.
“Bones,” she barely whispered with a slight resistance mixed with hunger.
He suddenly became aware of the eyes on them and pulled up, winded. “You ready?” he asked. Reginald would’ve done just what he had. And since he wasn’t there… then it was up to Bones to handle it. He’d likely be very pissed if Bones didn’t protect her.
THE NEXT CHAPTER
Winter’s hands shook as she tried on the first of twenty outfits they’d picked in one of the most expensive department stores, all at his insistence. More like he’d picked. Not even a minute into selecting, he took over, handing her things to try on. He did at least ask if she liked everything, which she did. It was kind of funny. Like he’d uncovered his secret Barbie Doll fetish and couldn’t dress her fast enough.
They headed for the dressing room with everything she’d ever dreamed of having, down to the intimate apparel and shoes. He stopped her before she went in and leaned at her ear. “Show me. All of them.” The thick sex in his voice stroked every intimate part of her. Then he sat in the chair right outside, waiting. And that wasn’t the least bit intimidating, having him want to inspect every outfit she tried on. And the shit he’d picked! All super nice stuff, the kind you wore if you were rich and getting decked out daily was just… blasé. God, what if she looked stupid in all of them? She did not like being on stage under his judgmental eyes. Please let him be nice. He was being very nice so far, which had her feeling like she was dreaming. A very wonderful dream she’d wake up from any second maybe.
She started with the stuff she felt would flatter her—the sexy, silky black dress. The lace on her black bra peeked over the top of the material, which hugged her breasts individually, like two obsessed lovers. She peeked out of the room, not wanting to conduct a show for the whole world. When the coast was clear, she stepped out and he sat up, his serious face immediately getting busy devouring every inch of her with a hot, severe scrutiny.
“Definitely,” he muttered. “Turn.”
The lust in his tone had her breathless as she turned around, closing her eyes and cringing inside as he stared at her fat ass.
“You definitely want that one.”
“I do?” she wondered, hoping for a little more details as she faced him.
She got a single nod. “Next.”
She hurried back to the dressing room, feeling suddenly dizzy. She sat on the changing stool, gasping for breath. Everything felt… surreal. She closed her eyes and panic hit her at remembering she’d be seeing X that night. Her sto
mach rolled as she thought about him doing things. Making her beg. Making her forget what she needed to remember. Like X not being Bones. Not technically. Wait… not… figuratively? She rubbed her temples feeling confused.
X wasn’t Bones. That’s all she knew, that’s what she needed to remember. Not to Bones he wasn’t.
She sagged and leaned against the wall. Why did Bones have to pick now to be so damn nice? She felt like Cinderella and didn’t want the ball to end at midnight. Maybe X wouldn’t come. Maybe if her and Bones stayed out late… then he wouldn’t have too much time to… make her do things. Things she ended up wanting and loving. And forgetting why he was there and what she was supposed to be doing.
She needed to be strong. Use the time to get answers and not let him derail that with mind-blowing pleasure.
“You okay?”
She screamed at Bones who poked his head in the curtain.
“What’s wrong?” he wondered, eying the dress she never changed out of.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “I… I’m nervous.” He locked those burning black eyes on her until she couldn’t breathe. “I’ll change now.” She held up the red dress. “This one?”
He continued to stare at her, seeming to know she was hiding something. “We can buy them all and you can try them at home. Return what doesn’t fit.”
“Oh God, yes,” she gasped, nodding. “That would be so much easier.”
“Good. Let’s go get that drink.” He shut the curtain and she released a silent breath.
“Good idea,” she called, tearing off the dress and getting her jumpsuit back on, shaking like a leaf.
Stall. Keep Bones awake as long as she could and stall X while she prepared for his appearance. Maybe she could get so drunk, she’d be no good for anything.
She had options. Plenty of options.
****
“Wear the black dress.”
It was the kindest order Bones had ever given. “Okay,” she said, trying not to sound like the young girl who’d dared dream of this very thing. An impossibly handsome man being all into her. Loving her. Marrying her. Having babies with her. It all had to start somewhere, right? Like with a first date. He didn’t call it that, but that’s what it was to her.
When she was done, she took a shaky breath while grabbing the bedroom door handle. The moment of revelation. Or redemption. Or condemnation.
She made her way on the cute heels she’d always dreamed of owning, the kind with a bow on the toe and the platform sole. Gave her the height without the risk of breaking her neck.
She spotted Bones standing on the back porch talking to Clyde. She stared at him through the window, watching him interact with another human. Every now and then, the man would say something and it was almost like Reginald surfaced in easy laughter.
Pain and excitement twisted her stomach. He was Reginald. Every bit of him. She needed to help him realize that somehow without looking like a cheat.
Bones nodded and shook Clyde’s hand, back to dark and serious. She had to wonder if Clyde noticed the stark and immediate shifts in personality.
The back door opened and she held on to the counter with one hand, breath frozen in her chest. His eyes landed on her and he stilled, the door half-shut. His gaze slowly lowered, making her even more nervous. “It’s the black dress,” she said, the words sounding as stupid and weak as she felt.
“It is,” he mumbled before turning his attention to the door and shutting it. His body language became conflicted. More and more, it had been doing that. A deep struggle gripped him, almost rendering him immobile. But what was that struggle? Did he really like her, want her, and was ashamed that he did? Was he feeling like a cheat? A bad brother?
“I’m ready if you are,” she said, fighting to steady her voice. “Any ideas of where we’re going?”
“A couple.”
“I was thinking it might not be a good idea to go local.”
“Me too.” He kept his gaze down even when he turned to face her.
Did he even know of any places outside of town? “We could just go parking. Not… like, I mean just find a nice spot, quiet.”
“I know what you meant,” he said, glancing around like he was stuck in a prison. “Let’s go.”
She followed him to the front door, a total emotional wreck. “Is this perfume too much?” Why did she even ask that, he’d helped pick it out.
“No.”
God, he sucked so good at reassuring. “Okay.” She bit her tongue on all the other questions. Is my makeup okay? Do you like my hair? Are the earrings too loud? She knew they weren’t but wanted to ask anyway. She needed to hear approval, or just an affirmative on anything at all would ease her mind.
He took a left out of the graveyard instead of the usual right. She tried to be patient as she waited for some indication of where they were going, all while inhaling his cologne. God, he smelled dark and beyond sexy. He drove in silence, and soon every breath brought a million doubts screaming in her head. “Mind if I turn on music?”
“Nah, go ahead,” he muttered.
“What’s your pleasure?”
“I don’t really have one,” he said, as she sorted through the station, looking for something. She found an old song she recognized, way before her whoring days. Before she slowly died and became somebody she didn’t recognize. “God, I love this song,” she said. “It used to play at the swimming pool I went to when I was like nine.”
“Really,” he said, glancing at her. “Where was that?”
“A small city called Opelousas. It’s in Louisiana.”
“Louisiana. I think I have family there.”
“Really,” she cried, smiling while moving to the music and singing and clapping to beat. “You might not EVA get rich! But let me tell you it’s better than diggin a ditch.” She sang and clapped up to the main chorus then let it rip. “WORKIN AT THE CARWASH—WHOA-OO-WOE-OO-WOE-OO-WORKIN AT THE CARWASHER.” She let out a boisterous laugh when he shook his head with a huge grin. She’d broken through his wall and how thrilling was that? She carried on, dancing her arms in the air. “AIIIIINT NO TELLIN WHO YOU MIGHT BE—A MOVIE STAR—OR—MAYBE EVEN A—INDIAN CHIEF!”
She had him laughing by the time the song finally ended and he pulled off the road at an old country store. She turned down the radio and she looked around, smiling. “I’ve never seen this place,” she said, amazed. “Look how cute it is!” She opened her door and climbed out, meeting him at the front of the truck.
They went inside and she grinned happily at all the old-timey stuff. “I really like this place,” she whispered, inspecting all the things as she went. She spotted a little bar at the back of the store where Bones headed. “Oh my God, look at you,” she whispered, following him. “Where did you find this place?”
“We used to stop here after fishing.”
She almost asked who we was, then realized it was Reginald. “I didn’t know you guys fished.” She came to stand next to him at the bar, torn about bringing Reginald into the conversation. She’d follow his lead on that.
“Reginald fished. I just watched.”
She laughed as her clit caught a whiff of his cologne and tingled. “Why am I not surprised.”
They both sat on the plain wooden stools and Bones tossed a wave at a sprightly old man hurrying through a doorway on the right. Judging by his apron, he looked to be coming from other chores.
“Reginald,” the man cried, his old mouth turning into a toothless smile that reminded her of a half moon.
Reginald?
“How’s it going Mr. Johnson?” Bones’ face lit up and Winter watched in fascination as he played his brother’s normal personality, the one he wasn’t comfortable playing.
The man ’s laughter wheezed out as he reached out to shake Bones’ hand. “Since when you call me that, son?” He regarded Winter, swiping gnarled fingers over his three strands of hair. “Now who’s this pretty thing?”
“This is Winter.”
“
Winter.” He said her name like he’d been waiting to meet her. She smiled and reached her hand out, shaking his. “Glad to see my boy’s found a playmate. What can I get for you two love-birds?”
Winter glanced at Bones, biting her smile as he said, “We’ll have two of your specialties.”
“Coming right up.” His cloudy blue eyes brightened as he turned to the bar, getting two giant mugs. He looked like he might be the cook, bartender, clerk, and janitor all in one.
Bones turned and faced her, leaning to whisper. “I’d put the worms on the hook. Reginald never liked doing that.”
She laughed, sucking in a lungful of his delicious smell. She spotted a jukebox just behind him, widening her eyes. “Ohhhh, look!”
He turned to see and smiled. “I’ll get quarters.”
She spied a foosball table hiding in the far corner and shook his shoulder, pointing. “Let’s play!”
“Let’s drink first.” He leaned forward, bringing his face closer and she held her breath as their eyes locked. He turned to the drinks on the counter and she realized he was merely putting his wallet in his back pocket. But what she’d seen in his eyes had her body humming with nervous energy.
“I’ll get our music picked.” She patted his shoulder, feeling the hard muscle flex in response. God. She hurried to the jukebox and looked at the song selections. A lot of country songs but she spotted a few groovy ones. When he dropped quarters onto the glass, she hurried and put them in, making selections. “You want to pick some?”
“Nah,” he said, handing her one of the mugs.
She took the giant mug in both hands, sipping as the first song came on. Homemade beer, she realized. Yuck. Letting the beat move her, she danced her way to the foosball table and jabbed a finger at it. “Ready to get your ass kicked?”
He walked over with a smile. “I don’t play.”
“Ohhh,” she said with wide eyes, “then you’re really going to get your ass kicked. Come on, it’s easy, you just hit the ball in the hole. Pleeeease,” she begged when he remained uncooperative.
He gave a light shake of his head and glanced at the front of the machine as he dug quarters out.