by Joy Eileen
“Shut the hell up,” Van said, giving me a stern look.
“What?” I whispered, embarrassed at how weak my voice sounded. Sickness rolled in my stomach as I shrunk back into the chair. When Van saw my reaction, his face fell.
“I didn’t mean to yell at you. We don’t think you're a charity case, and we decided it would be nice to have someone around to keep us in line. Now that we know you cook, we aren’t letting you out of our sight. So just say thank you,” he explained.
Jessie smiled at him, causing him to give her big googly eyes.
Whispering a thank you, my watery eyes remained focused on the table, unable to make eye contact with anyone.
“There you go. Now go to the store so you can make us a kick ass dinner,” Van joked.
I heard the smile in his voice, but I couldn't look up. Walking to the archway, I realized I needed to get my things out of my car. “Uhm…. can I get my keys, so I can get my stuff?” I asked the floor.
When nobody answered, I looked up to see Kill, Van, Jessie, and even D looking everywhere but me. “What?” I asked.
Kill finally made eye contact, his half-smile causing that damn dimple to appear. The sight of it made me want to go over and lick that beautiful indent.
“We kind of moved your stuff into the room when we decided you were going to stay with us,” he replied, giving me a sheepish grin, making him even more adorable.
“Ok,” I responded, stunned at his revelation. “Well, I guess I'll go get dressed. Where is everything?” I asked, knowing I looked all over the room before getting sick, and I didn’t see any of my stuff.
“We stashed it in the closet. There wasn’t much. For a girl, you pack light,” Kill responded, cocking his eyebrow. “Unless you just grabbed the essentials, knowing you would go back to him soon.”
“I. Am. Not. Going. Back. To. Him,” I growled, feeling my temper rise. “I just took the important things, my life being of the most value; everything else is replaceable.”
Shock registered in his eyes, and it made me happy I caught him off guard again. I needed to get to the bottom of why he kept insisting I would run back to Jason.
“Come on, I'll go shopping with you so I can pick up dessert,” Jessie said, trying to ease the tension in the room.
Breaking eye contact first, I walked to my new room, not waiting for Jessie.
I threw the closet doors open, and sure enough my clothes, and everything else I had hastily packed, waited for me. Going through a disorganized garbage bag full of clothes, I pulled out a pair of black skinny jeans and a dark blue t-shirt.
Doing a quick inventory of my stuff, I searched for my hoodie, but I couldn't locate it. I hoped it wasn’t lost forever.
Someone entered the room, and thinking it was Jessie, I threw off my grungy t-shirt and replaced it with a clean one. I began to shuck off my jeans when I heard a very non-Jessie grunt.
Twirling around, I tripped on my jeans, now wrapped around my ankles. Right before I hit the ground, Kill caught me, holding me against his well-defined abs.
“Sorry, Slick. I wanted to tell you I would be accompanying you to the store, as Van and Jessie are occupied.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making me giggle.
Realizing I was half naked and pressed against him, I slowly backed away. The immediate sadness from the removal of his electricity was staggering.
His grin disappeared, and the laughter in his eyes was replaced with desire. I could see why girls all over Portland were infatuated with him. Just one fierce look, and I wanted to wrap myself around him until you couldn’t tell where he stopped and I began.
I took the step I had just taken away from him back toward him. We both inhaled sharply when our bodies collided.
He pulled in his bottom lip, raking his teeth over it until it popped out. My attention became rapt on his bottom lip and I wanted to bite it like he had just done.
The wet heat between my legs was on fire, and the only way I could think of getting rid of the burning ache was to have him buried deep within me. The look in his eyes, before my attention went to his lips, showed he was thinking the same thing.
My tongue darted out, and he groaned, making his chest rumble. The sound caused my nipples to pebble, aching along with the rest of my body for his attention.
He lowered his face to mine until our foreheads touched, our lips a breath away. Both of us were panting, the dull pain between my legs caused me to press my thighs together, trying to gain friction to help with the need building inside of me.
When I was about to break and press my lips to his, Kill turned around and stormed away, leaving me confused and unsatisfyingly hot.
“Get ready, Slick, I'll meet you in the kitchen.” He closed the door with an audible click. I sunk to the floor, my pulse pounding. My lips were swollen with need, frustrating me even more being he hadn’t done anything before he cruelly left me. Asshole.
I yanked up my pants and grabbed my makeup bag to cover up the bags under my eyes, adding eyeliner to make me look less haggard. My reflection showed proof of how turned on I was just minutes before. I let out an irritated huff and headed downstairs, vowing I wouldn’t let him get to me again.
Kill stared at the kitchen table, deep in thought. Trying to show him how unaffected I was with whatever happened up in my room, I slapped on my perfected fake smile.
“You ready to go, Killer?”
He scowled at me and heat shot through me, causing my thighs to tighten, but I refused to let myself go down that road. Stupid, fucking, adorable scowl.
He walked by me without saying a word. I rolled my eyes at his back, realizing he was going to be the epitome of the moody artist everyone talked about in books and movies.
My Mustang was parked on the side of the road looking as pretty as ever. She always knew how to put a smile on my face.
“Are you going to moon over your car all day?” Kill broke into my happy mood, so I took his cue and scowled back at him. This caused him to smile his panty-dropping grin. Fucker.
We walked to a huge monstrous black truck. He opened the door and got in, not waiting for me. The engine roared to life, causing me to jump from the unexpected sound as I walked to the passenger side and practically had to pole vault into the cab.
“Nice truck. Overcompensating?” I asked, glancing at the juncture between his legs.
Kill's laugh was amazing. The rumbling in his chest made my traitorous nipples harden. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep the vow I made minutes ago.
“It’s Jet’s,” he said, when he got his laughter under control. “I'll let him know you're curious about his Sex God status in contrast to his truck size.”
This time I laughed along with him as he pulled on the road.
“So, Slick, what do you do for fun besides fantasize about how big my cock is?”
I sputtered, unable to keep my face from turning an impressive shade of crimson. “I do not fantasize about your...” I didn't finish my sentence verbally. Instead I nodded my head in the general direction of his lap.
“You don’t have to lie. You were very concerned when you thought this was my truck.” He had a grin on his face, and I was at odds, not sure if I should slap the look off his face, or grab him and molest him with my tongue.
“Shut up. I'm sure if I was fascinated with anything near your crotchel area, all I would have to do is ask any semi good looking girl, and she would be able to give me a detailed explanation.”
His smile dimmed, but after a second of faltering it came back in full force. “Did you just refer to my manly package as my crotchel area?”
“Did you just refer to your crotchel area as your manly package?” I shot back. He laughed at my remark. “Why are you driving Jet’s truck?” I asked when we were close to the store.
“I park my car in the garage, and it's a pain in the ass to get Jet to move his truck. The other day I walked in on him asleep, naked on his bed with no covers. I decided to start taking his truck inst
ead of having to see that again.”
I laughed at the horror on Kill’s face. “So is he overcompensating?” I asked, causing Kill to swerve.
He glanced over at me with his damn half-smile. “Well, if you want to compare it to mine, then he needs to raise this truck a couple more feet.”
He looked back at the road, his smirk turning into a full blown smile. I glanced at his crotch before turning to stare out the window. Kill pulled into the parking lot and turned off the truck. Instead of getting out, he unbuckled and turned to me.
“Well, I would tell you the real size of my manly parts, but I would have to kill you or fuck you senseless. Which would you prefer, Slick?”
My mouth dropped open, and I was appalled by how fast I answered in my head.
He laughed, hopping out of the truck. When I opened the door, he was there waiting for me. Kill latched onto my waist and helped me out, letting my body slide down his. When my feet hit the ground, he held on. I was thankful, not sure my legs would hold me up.
Even with my height, he towered over me and it made me feel feminine and safe. My breath hitched when I saw the lust burning in his eyes. It brought me back to earlier. That thought, like a dose of cold water, pulled me out of my stupor.
I heaved out of his embrace, forcing my heartbeat to go back to a normal beat. He let me go without resistance, and the pang of sadness engulfing me frustrated me.
We walked into the store, both of us lost in our own thoughts, mine revolving around the moody man next to me. Stupid man, I thought. Instead of calling him Mr. Moody I would start calling him Stupid Ass Man, or Sam for short.
I grabbed a cart while I put together a mental list of everything I needed for dinner.
Kill took the cart from me and wheeled away, not waiting for me. I had the childish impulse to get my own and leave him to do whatever the hell he wanted. In the end, I surrendered and followed him. I reminded myself he was letting me stay in his house, just as I caught up to him.
“Where to?”
“Follow me, Killer, and keep up,” I responded, trying to look sassy, but probably looked like a drunken crackhead.
“Lead the way,” he replied, smacking me on the ass.
I tried to give him his scowl back, but he just smiled.
While shopping, Kill reverted back to a little boy, running down the aisle and putting his feet up, leaning on the cart, and almost smashing into a couple who gave him dirty looks.
He made it almost impossible to get produce. Every time I picked something up to check the freshness, Kill moaned in my ear whispering “Oh yeah, squeeze it just like that,” and, “I have something you could check for hardness,” or, “You could squeeze me like that anytime.”
By the time I was putting things on the conveyer belt, I was flushed and throbbing in places a girl should not be throbbing while in a grocery store, or any public place for that matter.
When we stowed everything away in the truck, I was unsure if I should just smile and laugh, or rip off his clothes and let him know how badly I wanted him.
“You all right over there, Slick?” he asked, looking smug.
“I’m fine,” I said, smiling brightly at him while repeating over and over again in my head, I will not let this guy get to me.
We made it to the house without killing each other, or ripping our clothes off and going at it, so I filed it under the successful outing category.
Kill surprised me by helping put everything away. We went back and forth throwing insults at each other, and my cheeks were sore from laughing.
Jet and Amy came in while we were just finishing. Jet had his arm around Amy’s shoulder and she had a content smile on her face.
I gave her a questioning look, which just made her giggle into Jet’s side. I was caught off guard when Jet kissed her on the top of her head, showing tenderness I didn’t think he was capable of.
“We're going to drive around. When's dinner going to be ready?”
“You have to be at work at six-thirty, and we go on at ten-thirty,” Kill responded.
“Ok,” I said, trying to get my bearings. How stupid was I that him knowing my schedule got me weepy?
“Five?” I asked, uncertain of everyone's schedule.
“Five works for me, Slick,” Kill said, going into the living room and reclining on the couch.
“Fuck yeah,” Jet said, putting his hand out for a high five, which I reciprocated.
“Alright, Candy, let’s get the hell out of here.” Amy followed Jet, waving goodbye with the licorice in her hand.
“Where’s Jessie?” I asked the retreating couple.
“Van took her to the movies,” Amy answered, walking toward the door.
I called out to her, “I'll text her. Have a good time.”
I guess I could ask Amy if the truck compensated for anything. I laughed, and Kill turned around to look at me questioningly.
“As happy as Amy seems, maybe Jet isn’t compensating for anything.”
Kill laughed, and the rich sound followed me upstairs as I went to get my charger. While shopping, I found my phone buried at the bottom of my messenger bag, dead. I ran back downstairs to get it.
“You can plug it in over here,” Kill said, lounging on the couch, watching a movie with way too many explosions in it.
I found a surge protector under the side table by the couch and plugged it in. I pressed the power button and waited for my phone to turn on. By the time it was up, I was sitting on the couch with Kill, taking apart every detail of the movie.
“Really, she's wearing that in the middle of the city during a crisis?” I asked when one of the main characters ran out wearing skin tight cutoff shorts and a tank top.
“And look at those nipples, I wonder if the explosions turn her on?” Kill replied, joining in on being a movie critic.
My phone beeped indicating I had missed a call. When I picked it up, it showed I had forty missed calls from a private number. My stomach turned to stone, and my hands shook. By using a private number, I couldn't prove Jason was violating the restraining order.
“You ok, Slick?” Kill asked, pausing the movie. I tried to give him my most convincing smile, but he didn’t buy it. He took the phone from my hand and swore.
“He did it from a private number, so I couldn’t turn him in,” I explained, there was no reason to lie to him now.
“Let’s go report it.” Kill stood up, his face simmered with anger.
“Why? I can’t prove it was from him. Sit back down.”
He stood over me, as he ran his hands through his hair. His anger was palpable. “You're just going to let him get away with harassing you? Is this so he'll forgive you, when you go running back to him?”
His question hit a nerve. I was tired, still a little hungover, and sore. I stood up, so I was inches away from him and held up my bruised arms. At the store, he pretended the discoloration on my arms wasn’t there, but now I threw the evidence in his face.
“If Jason calling from a private number keeps him away from me, then yes, I am going to let him get away with it. I don’t want to be near him again. Look what he did to me.”
Kill tried to wrap his arms around me, but I was beyond comfort.
“Yes, I know it's stupid and stubborn to stay here instead of getting away. But he has ruled my life for so long, I don’t want him to make my decisions anymore. I have friends, and now thanks to your dumbass, a job and a place to live. I want to finish what I worked so hard for. It will make me feel like I'm beating him this time around.”
I punctuated my retort by poking Kill in the chest, and he did nothing to stop my assault. So, I went on, “I'm never going back to him. I'm mortified I stayed with him as long as I did. So get that stupid idea out of your dumbass head, do you hear me?”
My head was tilted back, with my finger planted in his chest. I was heaving from my outburst.
“I get you, Slick,” Kill said, removing my finger from his chest. He had an indent where it had bee
n drilled into him. I took my hand away, smoothing the crease.
“Sorry,” I said, leaving my hand on his hard pec.
“No problem,” he replied, giving me a half-smile, his dimple showing on his cheek.
I sat back down, feeling exhausted from my rant. Putting my head on the back of the couch, I closed my eyes. The headache I had been trying to stave off was fighting back.
I was rubbing my temples when the couch dipped down. Kill removed my hands and pushed my shoulder until my head was on his lap. My eyes snapped open, and he just smiled his panty-dropping smile.
“Relax,” he whispered, as he worked magic on my head.
I must admit, his whispered voice was sexier than his singing one. Soon my eyes were closing of their own volition, and my headache receded.
“I need to start dinner soon.” My voice sounded disembodied.
“I'll wake you up. When do you need to start it?” His hand ran through my hair. It was nirvana.
“I need to be up by three-thirty,” I responded right before a huge yawn split my face in two.
Kill chuckled, and the rumble was soothing and sexy at the same time. As exhausted as I was my body was still hyper-aware of his proximity.
“You have an hour and half; sleep. I'll wake you up.”
I tried to argue with him that it wouldn’t be fair for him to sit there while I slept, but he shushed my protest, telling me it was fine.
My body quickly lost the battle, and I dropped into a deep sleep with the comfort of Kill’s legs underneath me, and his hand running through my hair.
Chapter 6
“Hey, Slick, it’s time to wake up,” a rough voice whispered in my ear.
I didn’t want to move, I snuggled further into whatever was keeping me warm.
Kill's chuckle caused the warm wall my face was planted on to move, reminding me where I was. Embarrassed, I sat up swiftly and hit my head on his face.
“Shit, that hurt,” Kill said, rubbing his chin where the back of my head had connected. “Hey, are you ok?” Kill asked in his sexy whisper.