by Joy Eileen
I opened one eye, not ready for him to turn into asshole Kill. This was a stupid wish though. I needed asshole Kill to be around to help keep my emotions in check.
“Yeah, I can’t believe you let me sleep on you. Don’t laugh, but I haven't slept that well in a long time.” Heat bloomed on my face, wishing for a filter on my mouth for these moments.
“Anytime, Slick. Now, come on woman, you owe me dinner for my comfort, and making me endure your snoring.” Pulling me off of the couch, he walked us toward the kitchen.
“I don't snore.” Oh god, please tell me I didn’t snore.
He chuckled and hauled his arm around my waist, bringing my back to his chest. Leaning down, he pushed my hair off my neck, causing my pulse to skyrocket. “We'll have to do it again, to verify if you snore or not.”
He let go of me and headed toward the refrigerator, pulling everything out and putting it on the marble countertop.
Taking a deep breath, I hoped my shirt hid my nipples that were standing at attention and waiting for orders.
“What do we do first?” Kill asked, staring at me with a knowing grin.
Trying to repair my dignity by not melting at his feet and begging him to take me caveman style up to his room, I arched an eyebrow, "We?"
I planned on using my cooking time to get my overactive libido in check, at least where a certain sexy rocker was concerned, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself being in the kitchen with Kill.
It wasn’t fair he was talented and sexy. Maybe he had a deformity that would ruin his perfection. I eyed his feet, concentrating on counting his toes. Of course his damn feet were sexy too.
“See something you like?” he asked.
“Not a damn thing, Killer,” I replied, bending over to rummage through the assortment of pots and pans, Kill stood behind me.
His body pressed against mine with his mouth next to my ear. Shivering at his closeness, I made the decision, I couldn’t stay here.
I couldn't contain myself when I was near him, certain he would hurt me more than Jason’s fists ever did. I needed to feel whole again, and Kill was a band-aid. I wanted more than just a superficial fix.
“You shouldn’t tease me by wiggling that damn thing at me. You have the greatest ass,” he told me, as he unfolded his body and stretched.
When his arms reached over his head, his shirt rode up, giving me a view of his sculpted abs and blood rushed to my most sensitive areas.
“Do you think you can handle the salad?” I asked as I squatted, to get the pots and pans I needed.
“Oh, I can handle a lot.”
My whole body ignited from just that simple statement, confirming this man was dangerous to my body, and heart. “Just the salad,” I mumbled.
He chuckled while chopping vegetables. When slipping the lasagna into the oven, I remembered I needed to text Jessie. I jerked up and burnt my hand on the rack. Searing pain shot up my arm before I could pull it away.
“Shit!” I closed the oven door and jumped around, trying to jump the pain away. Kill pulled me toward the sink, turning on the cold water and shoved my blazing hand under it.
“I think I’m good, Annie Wilkes,” I said, taking my hand out from under the water when it went numb.
Kill’s hand was still around my wrist. He gently ran his thumb over the burn marring my skin. “You need to be more careful, Mr. Sheldon. I might have to hobble you if you keep this up.”
I laughed, appreciating he got my reference to Stephen King's, Misery. “Nice pull there, Killer.”
“That’s what she said.”
This time I laughed so hard I had to hold onto the counter for support. “You did not just do a ‘that’s what she said’ joke.”
“What can I say, Slick, I aim to please.”
I let out a very unladylike snort, which had me laughing all over again.
“What had you so startled you tried to burn your hand off?”
“Oh shit. I forgot to text Jessie to let her know when dinner would be ready. She'll be pissed if she misses my lasagna.”
“I already did,” Kill said, as I started my trek to the living room.
I spun around, to find his half-smile I craved on his face.
“When?” I already knew the answer, but I had nothing else to say.
“Between your snoring and trying to crawl into my stomach like a ton-ton.”
“You’re a nerd!” I said, doing a happy dance. “Mr. Moody, Broody, all hot and sexy, who has every girl in Portland’s panties wet, is a Star Wars nerd.” I jumped around the kitchen.
“The fact that you knew it was a Star Wars reference, makes you just as nerdy as I am.”
I stopped jumping so I could look at him, a smile still plastered on my face. “Yeah, but everyone knows I'm a nerd. Hell, I have never had a grade lower than an A. But you, it’s unexpected, and in all honesty it makes you less intimidating.”
“You think I’m intimidating?” he asked, taking a step toward me, then another, stalking me.
He stopped when he was a foot away. I swallowed, remembering we were the only ones in the house, and the oven wasn't the only thing making it hot.
“Yes,” I whispered, not breaking eye contact. My brain yelled at me to run far away, while my vagina put out the welcome mat and baked cookies.
“Why?” he asked, reaching out and running his finger down my cheek.
My body short circuited from his simple touch. “Huh?” I asked, not thinking clearly, except for how fast I could have him on the floor, naked.
He chuckled and removed his finger. I instantly missed his touch. Knowing him less than twenty-four hours, and I was addicted. I was so fucked.
“I asked why you're intimidated by me.”
“Well, look at you.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back. He didn’t respond, and I assumed he wanted me to spell it out for him, so I did.
I moved my arms in a sweeping motion so he knew I was talking about his whole body. “You're gorgeous, you're talented, and from what I have seen of your body, you have no deformities to bring you to the level of us common people. It's not fair you have no flaws, well.... you have no comprehension of personal space, and you can switch from hot to cold in an instant. I’m not saying being a Star Wars nerd is a flaw, but I have to reach far with you. So I'm taking Star Wars and running with it, and you can’t have it.”
“You think I’m gorgeous?” His smile made him look like a kid on Christmas, and I couldn’t help but snort again.
“Everyone in Portland thinks you're gorgeous.”
“I’m not asking about Portland, I'm asking about you.”
His eyes were burning with something I couldn't describe, and I had the impulse to run.
“I’m not blind,” I said, turning around to check on dinner, needing a break from his intense stare.
“Neither am I.”
“So does that mean you stare at yourself in the mirror to see how perfect you are?” I asked, trying to get the intensity of the room back to our playful bantering.
“You have no idea, do you?” he said, stalking toward me again.
I backed up until I was against the kitchen counter. He smiled that damn sexy half-smile, and kept moving toward me with a predatory gleam in his eyes.
“Honey, we're home,” Van yelled out from the front door saving me from answering.
Kill backed away from me and I let out a shaky breath.
Van’s arm was draped around Jessie’s shoulders and she beamed from ear to ear.
Why was it so easy for them? I thought, giving myself a brief pity party before I pushed it out of my mind. Jessie was my best friend, and I wanted her to be happy.
She walked out of Van’s embrace and pulled me into a hug. “It smells delicious. What was on the playlist tonight?” Jessie asked when she let me go, opening the oven door to get a peek.
“Playlist?” Kill asked, as I blushed.
“Yeah,” Jessie res
ponded, oblivious to my humiliation. “She picks music to match the food, and I know it sounds silly, but she can do it. Then she dances around, singing at the top of her lungs while she cooks. It's utterly adorable. If you guys ever need a girl singer, your new roommate's amazing.”
“I was gypped!” Kill cried out in mock outrage.
“Shut up.”
“No! Not one lyric, not one song, not even humming. This dinner was not properly made, and you will need to rectify this tomorrow, rightfully christening the kitchen.”
“Jackass,” I said, getting out the garlic bread.
Jet and Amy came in later, with tootsie pops in their mouths. I laughed at the sight of my friend sugarcoating her new man.
“Dinner ready?” Jet asked, sitting down. He hooked Amy around the waist and pulled her down, wrapping his arms around her to secure her.
Another stab of jealousy hit me, but I pushed it away, wanting my friends to be happy. I was a hopeless case, broken when it came to working relationships. I needed to become secure in myself before I pursued anything.
“Almost. You boys want to set the table while I get everything ready?”
“Hell no, I helped cook. Let these lazy asses do it.”
“You cooked?” Van and Jet asked at the same time.
“Fuck yeah, I did,” Kill answered, looking at me, daring me to correct him.
“You made a salad,” I replied, taking his dare.
“That’s something.”
Amy jumped up when there was a knock at the door. “I invited Trent,” she explained. “He should be here to celebrate your escape from that douche box, Jason.”
Wincing at the mention of Jason’s name, I turned around trying to compose myself. My stomach knotted up, my appetite vanished. I wondered how much longer Jason would affect my life. My shoulders sagged and I willed back the tears, feeling pathetic and defeated. Kill came over and put his arm around me.
“You ok?”
We were alone in the kitchen; everyone else was prepping the living room. I gave myself a moment of weakness, and leaned into Kill, breathing him in. He smelled like body wash and something that was pure Kill.
“Are you worried your food's going to be awful? Because it sure does smell like it.”
The tears threatening to spill over were gone, a real smile replacing them. “Thanks,” I whispered, knowing he understood.
“Anytime, Slick. Now let’s eat your nasty ass food. I'm starving.” He smacked me on the ass, donning oven mitts, before taking the lasagna.
Trent leaned in the archway, glaring at us. I put on the best fake smile I could muster. “Hey you, I'm glad you made it. You remember Kill, don’t you, Trent?” I asked, nervousness overwhelming me.
Trent nodded at Kill before coming over and taking the salad from my hand. Surprising me when he kissed me on the cheek.
“Hey, Faith, everything smells great. Can I talk to you?” His face had a look of desperation to it, making me uneasy.
“Uhm, yeah, can we eat first?”
He sighed, but nodded his head going into the living room. Kill stood next to me, and gave me a questioning look. I shrugged my shoulders.
The living room table contained everything I had cooked, and of course Kill’s salad. D emerged from wherever he'd been.
“This smells awesome,” he said, with the first genuine smile I had ever seen from him.
I had a hard time reading D; I was unsure how to break down his walls. “Thank you. Where have you been all day?”
D looked pleased with whatever it was. “Kill wrote an awesome song, and I worked on the instrumentals. I also made a bunch of calls, trying to get the band more gigs.”
“D's our manager, so not only does he get to play awesome music, he gets to pick where we play it,” Van explained, giving D a huge smile.
“Yeah, double the work to keep these assholes in line. It's a dream job,” D replied dryly.
“You know you love us,” Jet said, giving D a wet kiss on his cheek.
“Eat your food, dumbass,” D replied, laughing.
“You write the songs?” I asked Kill. I wasn't surprised.
“Fuck yeah. Our boy's going to make us rich and famous. We'll be wading in pussy,” Jet responded, while receiving a shot in the arm from Amy.
He had the decency to look ashamed. Amy shot him a dirty look, in which he responded to by kissing her on the forehead. “Well, they will be wading in it, I’ve got my own now,” he said, making Amy kiss him hard on the lips.
During dinner the guys told stories of the horrible things their fans had done, making dinner go by quickly.
Noticing the time, I jumped up. “I have to get ready for work. I don't want to be late!”
“I better get going too. I'll come back so we can drive together,” Jessie said.
“Don’t worry, I'll meet you there so you don’t have to make an extra trip.”
“Ok, thanks for dinner. See you at work.” Van followed Jessie into the kitchen, and then outside.
We had everything put away in a matter of minutes. I didn’t hear Van come back in when Jessie left, so I assumed he must have gone with her to help her get dressed for work.
Trent called my name before I could make it upstairs. I took a deep breath, slapping on a fake smile before turning around. He gazed at the floor, standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looked nervous, making me even more uncomfortable.
“Are you sure you want to stay here? You know you could always crash at my place.” His voice had a pleading edge to it, and I was afraid he would confess something that would change our friendship forever.
“It makes sense for me to stay here. You have a little one bedroom apartment. I wouldn’t fit there.” I was lying. I'd decided I couldn't stay under the same roof as Kill, but staying with Trent seemed like an even worse idea.
“My lease is up soon, we could get a bigger place.” His face was distressed, and my stomach tightened.
“I couldn’t ask you to do that. You're an awesome friend, and I love you for being there for me, Trent.” I walked down the couple of stairs separating us and gave him a hug. “Now, I have to get ready. I don't want to be late for my first day. I'll call you later.”
I dashed upstairs as fast as my cowardly ass could take me. Running into the bedroom that had been mine for less than twenty-four hours, I felt a pang of sadness that I wouldn’t be staying here.
I put hair it into a high ponytail. My makeup was darker than normal, realizing tips would be essential in assisting me in getting my own place. I didn’t want to dip too far into my savings, afraid it would alert my dad.
Pulling on my dark skinny jeans and a pair of zebra pumps, I shrugged into a t-shirt.
In the living room I snatched my charged phone and shoved it into my bag.
Kill sat on the couch watching T.V. “Your feet are going to be killing you by the time your shift's done tonight,” he said, eyeing my shoes with pure male adoration.
“Nope. I've been wearing heels since I was a little girl. I love them.” I turned my ankle around to appreciate my beautiful footwear.
“Whatever you say, Slick. Don’t come crying to me when your feet are throbbing.”
“I won’t,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him.
“You need to stop waving that damn thing around,” he growled.
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” I said, walking out the door.
I rummaged through my bag looking for my keys, I frowned when I reached the bottom, just before they jingled next to my ear. I looked up to see Kill holding them.
“Thanks,” I said, trying to swipe them.
He held them out of my reach, an impressive feat since I was in heels. “What, no kiss?” he asked, his panty-dropping grin plastered on his face, making my mouth want to become plastered to his face as well.
I was thrumming with heat, all of which was centered in between my thighs. Knowing I was playing with fire, I decided to play this round. I put on my most
seductive face, hoping I didn’t look like I was having a stroke.
I saw his throat move as he swallowed, and I stopped myself from licking it. His pupils dilated, and I felt empowered I could make him want me, at least a fraction of how much he made me want him.
I sucked in my bottom lip and let my teeth scrape it as I pulled it out, tasting the Dr. Pepper ChapStick. His breath went ragged and his eyes darkened, not moving from my lips.
I locked my knees to keep myself upright. Slowly, I inched closer, his eyes pinned on mine. He licked his bottom lip, and it took all my willpower not to take him into the house, or hell, right there on the lawn.
I brushed past his lips, not allowing myself to graze them, afraid even the slightest hint of Kill would be devastating. I planted a big juicy kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks, Killer,” I whispered into his ear, our ragged breaths coming out in pants.
I bit his earlobe, making him hiss through his teeth, as I held back the moan building in my throat since I started this. Running my hand down his arm, I pulled my keys out of his clenched fists.
I walked to the driver’s side of my car, putting more movement into my step than necessary. Kill let out a deep breath, and I couldn’t help the smile that surfaced.
He was still standing where I had left him. His gaze burning into me, and I was terrified I may have bitten off more than I could chew.
Kill's eyes were fierce with desire, and I was drowning in their penetrating green depths, proving I was in way over my head. Shit, I needed to get away from him before I did something I would regret.
I winked at him in the rear view mirror and started my car, trying to look composed.
My knuckles were white as the gripped the steering wheel, and I refused to look back. I felt his gaze on me until my car was out of sight.
I took my time driving to Ray’s, I would be confronted with Kill's powerful eyes soon enough. His intensity, combined with his singing voice, confirmed I was going to be in hell trying to resist him.
I tried to remind myself he was an asshole, but every time I had myself convinced, my double-crossing thoughts went back to him running his fingers through my hair while I slept.