Own It

by M Dauphin

  “Thanks for that.” She smiles and starts fidgeting with her bag straps as she waits for me to get off the bike.

  “Come on, let’s head in.” I grab her bag for her and head inside, silently switching on the lights in the house and setting her dirty clothes by the door, making a mental note to throw them in the washing machine later.

  “You want a drink?” I head for the fridge, because if I don’t busy myself right now I’m going to rip her clothes off and I don’t want her thinking the only thing I’m good for is fucking.

  Well, I mean I am good at fucking.

  I grin to myself and turn to look at her, waiting for an answer.

  “Beer?” she asks.

  Hell yes she drinks beer.

  “Of course.” I grab a Sam Adams for each of us and head to her, handing it over after popping the top. “So what type of pizza do you like?”

  “Mmm,” she hums, taking a swig of beer. “Pineapple and peperoni.” She nods and grins. “Yea that sounds perfect.”

  I glare at her and narrow my eyes.

  “I’m sorry what’d you say? Because I thought you just said pineapple and pepperoni. And that just isn’t right.”

  “What!” she boasts, smiling wide. Still that damn forced smile, like she thinks she’s fooling me. “I love pineapples on my pizza!”

  “You’re fucking weird too.” I mumble, grinning as I dial Dominos. She starts to protest but I push my finger to her lips, effectively ‘shushing’ her. Her eyes go wide as I start to place the order.

  “Yes, I need a large meat lovers,” I start, then pause when she opens her mouth and takes my finger between her lips. I clear my throat and continue ordering. “A uh... the Meat Lovers, yes. And a medium-” she sucks, hard, on my finger, eyes locked on mine and a low groan escapes me. Holy fuck. “A medium pepperoni and pineapple for the lady.” I manage quickly, my voice cracking when she pops my finger out of her mouth. I manage to get my address out correctly even though Lo’s seduction of my finger has my dick fucking screaming at me to let it at her.

  When I hit end, my hand goes to her neck, pulling her towards me and tilting her head up to me.

  “Think that was funny?” I growl, feathering my lips on her skin. She lets out a strangled laugh and her hands rest on my abs.

  “SO funny. Don’t fucking shush me like a child again.”

  I press my lips to hers and kiss her, wanting nothing more than to fuck her right here in this foyer.

  Her phone goes off and she rolls her eyes, walking across the living room to her bag. I grab my beer and watch her rapidly reply to a text before tossing the phone back into her bag.

  “Everything ok?” I ask, watching her as she puts back up the happy façade.

  “Perfect,” she smiles at me, grabbing her beer and joining me in the kitchen. She takes a swig and I watch her swallow it down and my dick feels the urge to be inside her mouth. Again.

  Fuck me- this girl.

  “Nothing of too much importance, I guess?” I grin at her.

  “Just my brother checking in on me.” She shrugs and takes another swig of beer, this time my mind’s too busy on her brother than fucking her… and that’s a problem.

  “He know we’re out tonight?”

  “I think he assumes it. Whatever, he doesn’t own me, Jett. He’s not my father.” She lets out a laugh and finishes her beer. Good God this woman is perfect. I should care more about her brother. I shouldn’t be doing this with her… not when he’s my only hope to get help with this work situation, but I can’t. Not when she’s standing there staring at me.

  “You’re goddamned right about that,” I growl, watching her set her beer bottle down and grin at me.

  “So… can I use your shower? I’m a mess and I don’t feel right touching anything in this place with all the mud that’s caked on me.” She gives me this cute as fuck grin then glances around the room and I have to laugh. She’s covered in mud, she’s fucking right about that, but hell if it isn’t sexy as fuck.

  “Absolutely.” I finish my beer and toss the bottle in the recycling bin then show her where everything is. I have to force myself to walk out of the bathroom when she turns on the water or I’d end up in the shower with her and my plan of showing her that I’m more than an amazing fuck is out the window.

  No, the rest of the night tonight will be spent getting to know each other. That’s my plan. Get to know the girl I’ve fucked twice already in less than forty-eight hours. Get to know my brother’s best friend’s little sister whom he warned me away from.

  Yes. Tonight is a ‘get to know you’ night… so tomorrow morning I can fuck her properly in my bed and not feel guilty about it.

  This girl needs fun in her life. I can fucking feel it… and though I’m not as wild as I used to be, I can tell you I still know how to put out a good time. I don’t know her story, but I fucking want to and I want to make it better.

  If that doesn’t tell you how goddamned insane I am for her then I don’t know what does.

  The pizza comes while she’s in the shower so I busy myself with grabbing plates and drinks and anything else we may need, setting up in the living room and turning on the TV to see what HBO has to offer in the new release department. I need something that isn’t too emotional, nothing with too many ‘sissy’ feels and shit but something that’s going to hold her interest enough to not pass the fuck out or want to go home.

  Just as I’m about to decide, she walks around the corner wrapped in a towel and I groan, making her grin a little.

  “Can I throw my clothes in your washer so I have something to wear?” She raises an eyebrow at me and I’m fucking speechless right now. This girl, practically a stranger, has been in my house twice in less than two days and both times she’s been parading around in a sheet or a towel and it looks like she gives zero fucks about it. Maybe that should worry me, but the only thing it does is turn me on. Crazy fucking turn me on.

  I hop up and grab her clothes, throwing them in the wash and return to the living room with an oversized t-shirt of mine from college. She grins and takes it, dropping her towel right there in the middle of my fucking living room and tossing the shirt on, then looks down to inspect it.

  “Harvard, huh?” Her eyebrows rise in amusement and I let out a chuckle before forcing myself to head back to the couch. “So I’m dealing with an elite snob, am I?”

  “Absolutely,” I say as she walks to the couch and sits next to me, tucking her feet under her before reaching into the pizza box and taking a piece and bringing it to her mouth.

  “Uh,” I watch in awe as she devours the pizza, not even bothering with the plate I brought for her. “I mean there was a plate…”

  Her eyes go wide and she lets out this laugh, mouth full of food, and for the first time since I met this girl I feel like I’m finally getting to know her.

  I mean, getting to know her body is one thing. But getting to know the person is a whole new thing to me… but hell I want to.

  “Does this gross you out?” She asks, bringing another slice of heaven to her mouth and shoving it in. It’s like she’s fucking teasing me with it and my dick is screaming at me to let it at her.

  “I’ve never wanted to be pizza so bad in my entire life,” I whisper.

  “Meh, you’d just end up living your second life as shit in someone’s toilet. Looks like you got a pretty sweet gig in this life.” Good God this woman. What the hell is she? Who says that? She takes another bite and chews, smiling at me as she goes on. “What is it that you do anyway, Jett Voss?”

  “I own my own custom bike shop…” I pause and take a bite of pizza, giving myself time to decide if I’m going to tell her about all the drama with my brother’s place or not.

  Fuck it.

  “I also own part of a million dollar petroleum company. Not sure if you’ve heard of Shuer gas or not… but that’s apparently now mine too.” I shrug and watch her eyes go wide.

  “You own Shuer gas?” Her mouth falls open
and eyes are stuck on ‘wide open dry out’ mode.

  “Your eyes are creeping me out,” I mutter, grabbing my beer.

  “No fucking way you own that. I mean… your brother did, yea. But you… don’t.” She shakes her head in confusion and I know she’s eyeing my tattoos and wondering how someone that looks like me could possibly be that smart. I let out a strangled chuckle and shake my head.

  “I fucking do own it. I fucking started it with my brother years and years ago right out of college. Then I fucking decided that it wasn’t what I fucking wanted to do with my life so I walked away. Fuck that. Then… THEN he fucking dies and leaves it in his will that I must take the company back or his wife and kids are left without any money. So yes, yes fucking way.” I take a breath, completely unsure why I just did what I did, and shake my head. “Sorry.”

  “Wow,” she nods. “SO… why don’t you tell me how you really feel.”

  I let out a laugh and sigh. “I definitely did not mean to throw all that at you. It’s just so frustrating.”

  “What are you gonna do?” She asks while picking the pineapple off her slice and popping it into her mouth. Her delicious mouth that I’m currently craving to be on my skin.

  I shrug and take a swig of beer, grabbing a slice of pizza.

  “I have your brother looking into it,” I grunt. “I’m hoping there’s a way for me to get out of it but I can’t leave Paisley and the girls without that money, so if worse comes to worst I’ll just have two jobs.” I act as if it’s not bothering me, but it is. It really fucking is. I’m not sure how long the shop will last if I have to devote my time to Shuer.

  “Yea, well at least you have a job,” she says, stretching her legs out so her feet land on my lap. I look over at her, confused, and wait for her to elaborate.

  “And you don’t?” I add when she decides to take her time with telling me what she meant.

  “Nah. I got fired last week.”

  “For what?” I growl, my hackles up for no fucking reason.

  “I poured a glass of wine on some creep that used my ass as a napkin.”

  I bark out a laugh and she rolls her eyes.

  “That’s the best way to get fired, though,” I say, laughing at her face.

  “I’ll find a new job. I just haven’t started looking yet.” The expression she’s wearing right now worries me. She’s a grown adult, shouldn’t she be worried about not having an income?

  “What’d you do before the waitressing act?” I ask, needing to know everything about her.

  “Read books?” She asks, then starts to laugh and finishes her beer, hopping up from the couch. “You want another one? I want another one. I’m getting another one.” She’s walking into the kitchen, making herself at fucking home and completely ignoring the question at hand.

  “Uh, yea thanks.” I yell into the other room. She returns with two beers and a bag of chips in hand shortly after and plops her cute ass right next to me.

  “So you read books for a living before waitressing?” I ask, grabbing a bottle opener and popping the top on the beers for us. She pauses her hand, mid reach for a chip, and takes a breath.

  “I like to read.” She shrugs.

  What are you holding back, Lo?

  “Man, I wish I could get paid to read every day,” I sigh, leaning back on the couch.

  I know she’s fucking lying to me but I’ll give her the time she needs to tell me whatever she needs to.

  She tosses a chip in her mouth and chews, eyes trained on the TV as I scroll through countless dumbass movie titles.

  “I was a veterinarian,” she whispers finally. I smile and set the remote down.

  “Nice. I love animals.”

  “You don’t have any.” She states, looking back at me un-amused. “You don’t have to say that just because you want to get in my pants. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed or not, but I’m not wearing any.”

  I smile at her and raise my eyebrows.

  “Not everything’s about you, you know, kid. I would love to have a dog, but with my lifestyle I can’t have that type of commitment.”

  “Your lifestyle? You own a bike shop.”

  “And I regularly like to leave town for a week or two on end. The shop will still be here when I get back, but if I left a dog at home that long it’d probably be dead by the time I got back.”

  She’s watching me, nodding, then huffs.

  “Okay then. So you like animals. That’s awesome.”

  “It is. I volunteer at least once a month at the local humane society. There’s something about innocent animals that make me realize the world isn’t all shit.”

  She clears her throat and nods silently. I lean forward, elbows on my knees and look at her while she tries to ignore me.

  “Why’d you stop doing what you love, Lo?” I whisper. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, then spins on the couch and looks me straight in the eyes.

  “I had a kid. Sam. He was the only person in my life that didn’t judge me for being a single mother in college. I finished Vet school when he was one. Started working at the clinic shortly after. He died of cancer less than a year ago. I don’t like to talk about it because I can’t change it, but it pretty much ruined me for caring about other things if I couldn’t even keep my own child alive.”

  Holy fuck.

  It feels like she’s punched me in the fucking gut.

  “Lo-” Shit. I reach for her but she pulls away.

  “Excuse me,” she huffs, standing from the couch and heading down the hallway.

  Damn. Talk about a curveball.

  Don’t ask me why I just told him all that. I guess I figured if we were going to be spending time together it’d be better if he knew right off the bat, but it didn’t make it any easier to say. Hell, that’s the most I’ve talked about it in a long time. Probably because this is the most time I’ve spent outside the house and not at work in a long time. There’s something comfortable about Jett, which is insanely weird because I’ve only known him a couple days. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s Brandon’s brother and I’ve known Brandon practically my entire life. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m feeling super fucking vulnerable and he just happened to come around at the right time. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s hot as fuck and I’m not used to the attention.

  I’d like to go with the first, however weird that is.

  Is it super strange I didn’t put two and two together last night? Yep. So weird. And I almost feel guilty for fucking him as drunk as we were, but I don’t. I feel like I should feel weird tonight being here, acting like I live here, but I don’t. Not one bit.

  I stare at myself in the mirror and shake my head in disgust. Why would someone like him take an interest in me? I’m nothing special. I don’t really wear makeup anymore; only on nights like last night when I need to get dressed up but those are few and far between. My hair’s usually a mess on the top of my head. The shower tonight did wonders for it (insert mega fucking sarcasm) and it’s now sitting in a frizzed out bun on the base of my skull, just waiting to get out of the rubber band and explode all over the room.

  Ok, not really, but seriously. The frumpy look must do wonders for Jett’s libido, because that’s about all I have going for me right now.

  “You okay in there, kid?” His voice comes through the door and I let out a genuine smile; something I’ve found myself doing more and more around him. He seems to get me… either that or he cares even less than I do. Whichever it is, he makes it easy to be around him. I like easy.

  “I’m fine. I’ll be right out.”

  “I’m going to finish cleaning your clothes, but I’m right here when you need me.” I hear him walk away from the door and let out a sigh of relief.

  I didn’t run to the bathroom because I was about to cry like most people in my situation would have. I ran because I felt myself getting all kinds of angry and wanted to punch something. Or someone. Or hurt something.

  Hell, I know what I went through
was hell, but there’s no use crying over it. It’s not like crying is going to bring him back.

  But that doesn’t stop the anger from building each time I think about it.

  I ran because I didn’t want to keep talking about it and possibly say or do something I regretted. At home, when Chris gets on me about ‘needing to care’ more, I can lock myself in my room and pretend the world doesn’t exist. Running to the bathroom was my way of doing that.

  I take a breath and splash cold water on my face.

  “You can’t change shit, Lo.” I tell myself, tightening my messy bun and looking down at my forearm, letting my fingers trace the tiny roman numerals on my inner arm. My one and only tattoo that holds so much meaning.

  I take a deep breath and walk back to the living room, holding a hand up to stop the look on his face before I want to smack it off.

  I’m not one for bodily harm, but seriously… pity makes me rage.

  “Please don’t treat me any differently than you were just a few minutes ago.” I state firmly. “If you can’t take me as I am without looking at me with pity for something neither of us can change, I’m leaving right now… no pants and all.”

  Jett stands and walks over to me in one seemingly fluid movement. His hand goes to my cheek, gently cupping it and he grins down at me.

  “If you leave with no pants on can I at least record it? Because I feel like that could make me an internet sensation.” He grins and I pretend to punch his gut then walk back to the couch.

  “So movie or no?” I say, flipping back through the titles. Jett walks into the living room and stands in front of me, locking eyes with mine.

  I’m seriously starting to think this guy has a staring problem.

  “Can I help you?”

  He narrows his eyes at me and lunges, grabbing me and throwing me over his shoulder like a crazed caveman.

  “Jett!” I laugh, slapping him in the back. “What are you doing?”

  “I tried not fucking you tonight, Lo. I fucking did. And it didn’t work,” he growls. He storms to the bedroom, sliding his hand up my thighs and stopping just before he sinks his fingers into me. I moan and wriggle in his arms, but we make it to the bedroom and he flips me on the bed and spreads my legs, immediately ripping off his clothes then dipping his head between my legs and licking one long stroke up my core.