Oh, and he was blocking the tow truck from getting to him by continuing to lean casually against it.
A man got out and started speaking in low tones to Evander, but moments after the conversation started, it ended and Evander turned to me.
“You reported the car?”
I shook my head frantically. “No, I didn’t.”
Having that man’s attention solely on me felt like I’d just stuck my finger in a live socket.
Though they were chills, they weren’t good ones like the ones I got with Baylor. These were ones that spread down my spine as Evander stared at me with open anger on his face.
“I have the complaint right here. Brown car parked in front of 1992 Liberty Lane.” He pointed to my house. “That’s you.”
“It might be me, but I didn’t call anyone.” I paused and narrowed my eyes at Harold. “I’ll bet he did, though. Gave me a ticket for it and everything.”
Evander turned his gaze to Harold, too, and would’ve paced over there to deal with it if the tow truck driver hadn’t been standing there, just waiting for him to leave.
“I don’t know who called in the tow, but it wasn’t me,” I apologized to the tow truck driver. “You can go now.”
Mr. Tow Truck Driver didn’t even hesitate to turn around and get back in his truck. More so, he didn’t even look back.
“Damn,” I said. “That look on him is quite intimidating.”
“Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you.”
“It’s Baylor here that you have to worry about,” came someone’s reply.
I jumped what felt like eight feet and whirled, staring at the dark-haired man who’d been waiting for this situation to resolve itself.
But the more that the ladies yelled at Harold, the more belligerent he became.
Little fucker was just that…a little fucker.
He was annoying, and I wanted nothing more than to shove my fist into the bastard’s face.
But that was done for me when Harold said something to Kennedy.
With practiced ease, he walked straight up to Harold, yanked the ticket book out of his hand, and shoved him so hard that poor, roly poly Harold almost went face first onto the ground.
The only thing that saved him from kissing the pavement was the car—Kennedy’s car—which he’d been trying to get towed.
It was really quite ironic if you asked me. Poetic justice.
“Go away and don’t come back,” the dark-haired man ordered to Harold. “If I catch you giving tickets like that again, I’ll be sure to do the same for you.”
“You can’t do that,” Harold said. “I’m the president of the HOA. I can write as many tickets as I want.”
“My name is Rafe,” he said. “Anytime you feel like writing a bogus ticket from now on, I’ll do my level best to slap you so fast and hard with a lawsuit that I know you won’t be able to get out of it.”
With that, this Rafe guy walked over to Travis’ porch, took a seat next to some kids, and proceeded to start playing a thumb war with a young girl that had to belong to Hannah.
My eyes were wide as saucers when I turned to Baylor.
“I should’ve recorded that,” I told him. “Who is that Rafe guy?”
“Rafe is Rafe. I don’t really know why he’s here. I have a feeling that he’s working for us because he’s doing something else, and the two jobs just coincide and working at Hail Auto Recovery just works well for whatever he’s actually doing here. I don’t know him all that well, and honestly, I’m surprised that he’s even here to begin with. He does, however, rent a house in this neighborhood.” Baylor snorted. “You want to go over there and eat some barbeque?”
I looked over at Travis’ lawn, which was now filled to the brim with people. Some of them I recognized from around town, while others I’d never seen before.
“No, not really,” I told him honestly. “I’m not much of a party person…or a crowd person.”
With that, I walked inside and let the screen door shut behind me.
I expected not to be followed, but I was.
The moment that I rounded the corner into my kitchen, Baylor was back, this time sitting at my kitchen counter.
“Why are you still here?” I asked again.
I was vulnerable and raw, and to be honest, I didn’t want him there.
He saw too much.
His over-attentive eyes were always on me, and it felt like he was looking into my soul.
He was the type of man who I knew could hurt me, too.
Charismatic, smooth, and overall, a really likable guy.
Just like my ex.
I steeled my spine and waited for him to answer, determined to tell him to leave once he was done explaining.
Only, I didn’t count on Baylor being well…Baylor.
He had a way of changing my mind on everything I thought I knew.
“I’m here because I want to be here,” he said. “And you’re right. Going over there where everyone can ask me ‘how the fuck I am’ and want a plain generic ‘good’ when all I want to tell them is ‘I’m fucking tired’ doesn’t sound like a fun time. In fact, I fucking hate parties. I hate putting on a happy face and being polite. I hate it.”
I watched him for a few long seconds, judging his sincerity.
Maybe we both needed a break from reality.
Tomorrow… tomorrow, I would do the right thing. Tomorrow, I would make sure that he knew that I wasn’t interested in anything that had to do with an ‘us.’
Tomorrow, I’d tell him that this wouldn’t work out.
Tomorrow, I’d be the adult I needed to be.
But today? Today I was going to do what I wanted to do.
And Baylor was the thing I wanted to do.
And I knew the moment that he realized that I’d given up and gave in.
Because between one second and the next, he had his arms around my waist, pulling me in close to his chest.
“One night,” I told him. “One single night, and that’s it.”
“One night.”
He was lying.
I could read it on his face and in the way he spoke.
Tomorrow, he’d be right back where he’d been today. Tomorrow, he’d invade my space.
But tomorrow, I’d be stronger…right?
I’d be able to resist him. I would.
I should’ve known that trying to resist Baylor Hail would be futile.
I didn’t, though.
Instead, I broke my cardinal rule.
To never get too close to anyone again.
I got too close.
And I liked it there.
Chapter 11
Roses are red
Beer is delicious
I use paper plates
Because fuck doing dishes
Baylor
She was scared.
I could read it in the line of her body, and the way she wouldn’t look me in the eyes.
It was also the reason I stayed.
I could tell that something was bothering her, and I didn’t want her to be alone.
Normally when I knew I wasn’t wanted, I’d leave. It was never fun to be somewhere you weren’t wanted. This time, not so much.
I didn’t like knowing that she’d be here, alone and sad.
I didn’t want to go party with my brothers and family while Lark was over here purposefully not enjoying herself.
“What are you scared of?”
She shut me up by placing a gentle kiss on my lips.
“You think a little kiss like that is going to distract me?” I asked her.
She flushed.
“It’s going to take a lot more to distract me than that.” I got up and towered over where she now stood, backing her further into the counter where she’d retreated to after she’d kissed me. “You want to try again? Give it all you’ve got this time?”
She trembled.
; I was close enough to her to feel the heat of her body without actually touching it.
It was maddening, but I wouldn’t budge.
I might come off as laid back and calm, but I wasn’t. I was probably the least laid-back person in this town.
That’s why I walked everywhere. Why I purposefully stayed the hell away from people who I knew could make me say something I might regret later.
That was why I felt so connected to this woman who was currently inches away from me.
She was like me, only better looking.
And I fucking liked that there was someone else like me.
It was exhausting hating everyone by myself.
“You hate everyone?” she breathed.
I paused, not realizing that I’d said that last thought aloud.
“Ummm,” I hesitated. “Is that a bad thing?”
I’d always been on the outside looking in.
In high school, I wasn’t a football player or a soccer player. I was a cross-country runner. That was about as alone as you could get in terms of high school sports. Then in the military, I was assigned to a unit that was made up of a bunch of obnoxious assholes. But I loved those assholes, even if I did so from afar.
When I took a different route that led me into a more covert role with the Marines, I found my true calling in life.
I loved being holed up alone, gathering information. Sitting, watching, listening. Those were my strong suits.
And when I was hurt while on leave, my life completely changed.
Gone was the anonymity I enjoyed. Gone was my free time that was my time.
Gone was the peace and quiet of my once orderly world.
Gone was the feeling that I could breathe.
“You feel like you can’t breathe?”
Guess I was still saying some of this aloud.
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “Then I get around you, and all of those anxious feelings start to drift away. It’s the only time the noise turns off and I get any silence in my head.”
I closed my eyes and leaned forward until my forehead rested against hers. “You make me feel like it’s ok to be this way, like I’m less of an outsider.”
She stared at me, and suddenly, she wasn’t standing inches away from me any longer. Now she was throwing her arms around my neck and slamming her mouth onto mine.
I did the only thing that any sane man would do in that situation.
I picked her up, urged her to wrap her legs around my hips, and took her entire body into my arms. Then I prayed that my knee wouldn’t give out.
Which ended up being a mistake.
I immediately switched our positions so that my back was leaning against the counter.
Since my accident, my knee couldn’t sustain the weight that I used to be comfortable lifting. Since my recovery—and I say recovery loosely since I still wasn’t back to what I used to be—I hadn’t missed the old me…well, at least not too much.
I had yet to be in a serious relationship, and I hadn’t had anything more than my hand in a really long time. I hadn’t realized my limitations. Hadn’t missed what I used to have because I hadn’t realized I was missing it.
But now, knowing that I couldn’t hold her up? Yeah, that burned.
But she kissed it all better by letting me up for air and staring into my eyes.
“Take me to the bed.”
I would have. I really would have.
But then she took her shirt off, and I got distracted.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. How had I missed that she wasn’t wearing a bra?
“I don’t have to wear a bra,” she admitted.
I’d asked that question aloud, or maybe she’d read it in my eyes.
Either way, I didn’t care.
Not when I was faced with those beautiful breasts of hers.
Her nipples were bigger than any of the ones I’d ever seen, the areola taking up a larger portion of her breast. The tips were juicy, thick, and darker than any I’d ever seen, too.
I wanted to devour them.
I wasn’t sure where to start.
The left? The right?
She answered that burning question for me by offering up her left breast like one would their finest dish at Thanksgiving dinner as she latched onto my head with the other hand, guiding it down.
I didn’t dare not do what she was asking.
I dropped my mouth to her breast, licked the edges of her areola, and then went even further by sucking her pretty nipple down deep into my mouth.
I curled my tongue around the tip while I sucked, flicking it lightly while dropping one hand from her ass, and smoothing it up her side to curl around her breast.
I bit down lightly when she tried to push me away—to take away my play toy—and she gasped.
“Mine,” I told her, breaking away to glance up at her eyes.
She looked dazed.
I grinned and went back to my new favorite meal—her.
I devoured her nipple, sucking, licking, and teasing, while I ground myself against her.
She moaned and started to pull on my hair, and it was only when I felt that she was ready to break that I pulled away.
My mouth was wet, and her eyes met mine. There was a need so great written all over her face that I let her slide down until her feet rested fully on the floor.
My eyes moved down her chest.
One breast looked angry and aroused, needy and wanting. The other nipple was pebbled, but it didn’t have a beard burn, or suck marks dotting the expanse of it.
I grinned at how she looked.
Those hickeys would be there for days.
Maybe even a week.
“Finish getting undressed,” I ordered.
She turned her back on me and went to do just that.
Then she got to her pants.
And I thought her nipples were my new favorite thing…I was wrong.
It was her ass.
She started to scramble toward where I assumed was the bedroom, losing her clothes along the way.
But the moment she pushed those pants down over her hips, I stilled her movements by hooking one arm around her waist and pulling her to me.
We were in the living room. Her front door was wide open, and I could see outside, which meant other people could see in if they bothered to look.
But I didn’t change what I was doing—because by doing that, I’d have to let her go. And I didn’t think I could—not ever.
It was also the reason that I couldn’t make it another step.
I bent her over at the waist, pulled her thong—nothing more than a tiny, pink scrap of fabric—to the side and smoothed a finger over her slick pussy.
“Godddd,” she moaned. “Baylor.”
The gasp that left her mouth was enough to make me smile.
I started to unbuckle my pants.
“Baylor,” she moaned, wiggling her ass against me.
It was then that I growled.
The sheer flexibility of her was amazing. She was standing straight legged, her feet side by side, and was leaned over so far that she had her hands on the floor next to her feet.
Later… later, I would explore this more. I would see what other sexual positions I could bend her into in the future, really find out what she could do.
But for now?
For now, I was going to fuck her. I was going to shove my fat cock into her and not stop until we were both coming.
“Condom?” she breathed, looking up at me from the side of her leg.
Her breasts were pressed to her thighs, and she circled one arm around her legs so she could peer up at me.
“No condom.”
She opened her mouth to retort, but I shook my head.
“I saw you were on the pill,” I told her. “Was with you when you were taking your trash out, remember?”
She snapped her mouth shut, and I lowered my jeans so that my
cock could slip free of the confines of my pants—and no, I wasn’t wearing underwear.
Underwear was too confining.
The only time I ever wore them was when I was running—there was only so much dick swinging I could handle on a long run.
“Oh, yeah,” she whispered.
“I’m clean.”
I let go of my dick, and it reared up and hit her pussy with a meaty smack.
She jumped and then moaned.
“Get back down,” I ordered.
She cleared her throat but nonetheless did what she was told.
She dropped back down.
“Curl both hands around your legs,” I told her. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”
She did that, too.
I pulled back until I had my dick lined up with her entrance, then swirled just the tip inside.
She moaned, and I tightened my hand on her hip.
I rimmed her entrance with ever-widening circles until her wetness was spread not just all over my cock, but all over her as well. There wasn’t a dry place where we touched, and I fucking loved it.
I’d never gotten this messy before—not without my come being involved.
Sure, there was some pre-come in the mix, but it was mostly because of Lark’s excitement.
Her need for me.
“How long’s it been, sweetheart?” I asked her, pushing against her entrance now.
She moaned. “Too long.”
I pulled back away, and she seemed to understand why.
“Three years, two months, and a few days. Four, I think. Maybe five.”
I grinned.
“Was it a bad day for you to remember that exact?” I questioned, pulling her back toward me.
This time my cock breached her entrance, and I didn’t pull back.
Mostly because the feeling of her surrounding me had rendered me unable to make informed decisions.
I was drunk on her pussy, and I didn’t care.
Fuck, did I need her.
I withdrew a bit and then pushed inside another inch.
My eyes crossed.
“Please,” she keened. “Please.”
I pushed another inch, my eyes squeezing tightly shut as I groaned.
“God,” I breathed. “I don’t think that I’m going to make it all the way inside of you without blowing.”
She squeezed. “I just need you inside me. I think all it’ll take at this point is feeling you fill me.”
What the Hail Page 7