He smiled. “Not that I don’t love ‘em, honey, but I was wanting my cut, not your pretty little hands.”
I blinked. “What’s that?”
He reached down and my heart started to beat out of my chest.
My face flushed, and my belly fluttered crazily.
I squeaked as his knuckles brushed over my mound before he gave a small tug on the vest in between my legs.
I blushed profusely then.
Mother fucker.
Jesus Christ, Tru! He was just wanting his vest. Keep your cooter under control! I berated myself.
Did I let go?
Fuck no.
I couldn’t make myself.
He grinned at my blank expression before tugging a little harder.
The buttons on the front of the vest caught the seam in my pants, which inevitably rubbed against a very special spot, making my eyes widen in surprised pleasure.
He grinned even harder as he finally worked the vest loose and then slung it carefully over his shoulders before he worked his arms cautiously into the holes.
“I like your outfit, by the way,” he said cheekily, grinning so wide that the cleft in his chin became even more pronounced.
Jesus, that thing should be illegal.
“Thanks,” I managed to choke out.
“You do know that half the men in this bar are cops, right?” He asked with a raised brow.
I looked around and then back to him.
“Yeah, so?” I questioned him.
“Wearing a shirt that says, ‘If you see the police, warn a sista’ makes you seem kind of suspicious,” he explained.
I shrugged. “My momma’s a cop. And my daddy’s the fire marshal. I have nothing against the police. I just thought the shirt was cute.”
“You’re Frank Doherty’s daughter?” He exclaimed loudly.
I nodded. “Yep.”
“Shit,” he sighed.
I blinked.
I seemed to have a blinking problem.
But I couldn’t figure out why he’d be upset about it.
He shook his head at my confused look, but he wasn’t the one who answered. It was the man to my side.
He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place who he was.
“That’s fuckin’ rich!” The man crowed loudly.
I tilted my head slightly. “What the fuck?” I asked finally.
“Torren got into trouble a few years ago when he first hired on. He played a prank on another member, but it ended up being your pops who got the brunt of it. Doherty’s never liked him since,” the man cried.
And I literally do mean cry. He was wiping tears of hilarity out of his eyes as he spoke.
I gasped. “You were the one who burned off his eyebrows?” I screeched. “You’re the Torren Trammel?”
The bar erupted in laughter at my gasp of outrage.
My dad had come home with no eyebrows one day, around five years ago, and they’d never grown back right since.
I’d been outraged on my father’s behalf. Not because he hurt my father, but because I’d been on the receiving end of my father’s bad mood that day, and I’d lost the payment for my college education as a result.
I’d moved out a few weeks later, in with Iliana, and spent the next two years struggling to pay for everything.
But I’d done it.
And color me surprised when the first person I saw as I walked across the stage was my beaming father.
I’d forgiven him that day.
I know now that what we’d fought about really hadn’t had anything to do with my father’s bad mood, and everything to do with my bad attitude. And I’d lost two years with my father that I could never have back.
“Hey,” Iliana said from behind me. “Isn’t that the reason your dad kicked you out of the house?”
I turned around and glared at her, hoping she’d shut her mouth.
Alas, Iliana was nothing but predictable.
When I didn’t answer, she jumped around in surprise, pointing her finger at Torren accusingly. “You’re the reason I had to share a bed with her for nearly six months until she could afford her own bed!”
“What’d I have to do with anything? I just set the man’s desk on fire, accidentally. I didn’t do anything to her,” he said indignantly, pointing at me accusingly.
I snorted. “You didn’t do anything, Grayson. I was young and dumb, and brought it all on myself.”
He nodded. “Well, okay. But I’m sorry anyway. I really pissed him off, so I’m sure it wasn’t all you.”
He looked so sheepish it was almost comical. However, I still didn’t want to go into any more detail on the matter.
Luckily, I was saved by the bell, so to speak. Or the whine anyway.
“Torren, why does she call you Grayson?” Molly whined.
Would it be rude to smack her?
“Because that’s my name,” he said with a tone that was perilously close to being smartass-ish.
“Oh,” she pouted. “I’ve known you for years. Why didn’t I know that?”
Probably because your boobs are too big and require too much oxygen to fuel your brain like most normal human beings.
I snorted. I amused myself sometimes. “Well,” I said. “Y’all have a good night. See you next week, Grayson!”
With that, I walked away, only too aware of the eyes I felt boring a hole in the back of my head. Ones that I wanted to have there, and a pair that I didn’t.
Chapter 3
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that I can’t please everyone. I sure as heck can piss everyone off, though.
-Tru to Grayson
Torren
Pain comes in all shapes and sizes.
As I sat in the waiting room for my very last occupational therapy appointment, I started thinking about the many types of pain I’d experienced over the last few weeks.
Some of it could be physical. Some mental. Other emotional.
Mine, at the moment, was coming from one certain part of my body, and it wasn’t my shoulder.
It’d been three months since I’d started physical therapy and occupational therapy.
I was nearly done.
I was back to seventy five percent of normal on my shoulder, and both therapies were going great.
So great, in fact¸ that I was about to see the occupational therapist to discuss the end of my therapy.
However, I was sure of one thing. I didn’t want it to end. I was enjoying it too much.
What I found, in the last ninety days, was that there were over a hundred places on my body that Tru could touch that gave me an instant hard on.
And she touched me a lot.
“Good morning, Grayson, how are you doing today?” Tru asked as she met me at the door.
I gritted my teeth.
No matter what I tried, I literally could not get the woman to use Torren.
Even after asking her multiple times, she still refused to do it, so I gave up.
She was now the sole person on this earth that used my real name.
Even my pop didn’t call me Grayson anymore.
“Doing good, sweet girl. How are you?” I asked as I took the door and held it as we walked through.
She smiled up at me, gracing me with one of the things that made my Monday afternoons.
I’d seen a lot of that smile, and I would be sad if I no longer needed therapy. I’d no longer have an excuse to come see her.
Then again, I’d no longer have a reason to keep my distance, either.
The only reason I’d been doing so was that I knew Tru was too professional to start a relationship with someone that she had an obligation to help get better.
She wasn’t like that, and I was secretly happy for it.
What better way to get to know a person’s character, other than spending a ton of time with them.
One thing for certain was that there was a lot of sexual tension going on between us, even if neither one of us acted on it.<
br />
“I’m well, thank you for asking. How’d your first day back at work go?” She asked as I followed her down the hall to her office.
I grimaced. “I thought for sure I’d be doing more than I did; that shouldn’t have been surprising, but it was. I literally drove the ambulance all day, but was unable to do anything. It didn’t help that the captain was glaring over his shoulder the entire time, making sure I didn’t do anything stupid.”
She smiled, catching me off guard.
That smile had many abilities. One of which was stealing the breath from my lungs when she turned it on me.
My feet caught on each other, making me trip slightly and run my hand out to the side in order to catch myself.
At the same time, she stopped and turned.
Instead of my hand coming to a stop on the wall, it came to a stop in the middle of her chest.
She gasped sharply in surprise, looking up at me where I stood towering over her.
I didn’t move my hand, and she didn’t move either, so we stayed like that for long seconds before I finally found the willpower to pull away.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, pulling back until I was standing on the opposite side of the hallway from her.
She smiled somewhat dazedly and turned, gesturing me to follow.
“Today’s just a day for me to go over my progress with you with the OTR. She’ll re-evaluate you, and then make sure you’ve reached all the goals we set in the beginning. Pending her approval, I’m pretty sure this’ll be your last visit with us,” she smiled tightly over her shoulder.
I felt something weird.
Something I couldn’t quite explain.
It had to do with the fact that she seemed somewhat upset.
Was I happy that she didn’t want me to go?
‘Cause that, in turn, made me start to think about things.
Things like what it’d be like to have her in my bed.
Or taking her out for a ride on my bike. Or taking her to meet my pop.
The last two things weren’t things that I did.
Sure, there was the occasional ride from a bar to the girl’s place, but the kind of ride I was thinking about with Tru was the kind that lasted hours. The kind that required her arms wrapped around my chest, and her crotch rubbing against my backside while I took her for the ride of her life.
I could definitely tell, too, that Tru wouldn’t be the one and done type I usually went for.
She’d be one I’d have to work out of my system slowly.
She even had the potential to never be worked out of my system.
The type that got in there and never got out.
The type you didn’t want out.
“Hey,” Tru said, interrupting my deep thoughts. “You okay? You’re not very talkative today.”
I shrugged. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
She looked reluctant to let it go, but in the end she did, and I was thankful.
The time would come when I’d bring the subject up, but I had to get through an appointment with the OTR first. Only then would I implement my plan of action.
One that Tru would accept.
***
“Well then, that’s it, Mr. Trammel. You’re done here, I’m glad to say!” The cheery older woman spoke jovially.
Her name was Anne, and she had to have been one of the nicest women I’d ever met.
Too bad we hadn’t met under different circumstances.
“Thank you. Tru did an excellent job keeping me in line,” I smiled at the woman, when in reality I wanted nothing other than to look at Tru.
She was a silent presence at my back, having stepped out to answer a phone call, and coming back in a few minutes later only to stand at the back and not disrupt the meeting any more than she already had.
“I’m sure she did. She was one of my wisest students and now one of the best employees I’ve ever had. Now,” she said standing. “Get on out of here. I don’t want to see you back in here unless it’s to bring me some thank you cookies.”
I snorted and stood, holding out my hand to shake the woman’s hand. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
I’d bring the woman cookies, but only because I wanted to see Tru again. I’d use anything as an excuse.
“All right, I’ll see you around. Have a good day,” she said as she walked with me to her office door.
I smiled at her and followed Tru’s retreating back out the door. I kept following her, watching her ass in her scrub pants the entire way.
“I was thinking we’d go to lunch after our appointment to discuss what you should continue doing, if that’s okay. My treat,” Tru said as she looked over her shoulder.
I looked up just in time that she didn’t catch me checking out her ass, but only barely.
“Sounds good,” I rumbled.
She smiled. “Perfect. I didn’t bring a lunch.”
She led me to a padded table where she patted it softly with her hand, indicating I should sit.
She didn’t move her hand, however, and I sat, bringing her hand perilously close to my thigh. Her body was very close, too.
She realized her mistake too late, and had to take a step back to make it acceptable.
I gave her that, but only because I knew it was important to her. But in forty five minutes when my session was over, it’d be a different story.
***
45 minutes later
“I can’t believe that still hurts,” I mumbled as I took a seat on the bench across from Tru, rubbing my shoulder as I did so.
She smiled remorsefully. “It’ll get easier. Your muscles are still learning. Today was a day to make sure you could do all you’re supposed to be able to do.”
I stared into her eyes, mesmerized by the sight of her big green eyes.
“So how is your physical therapy going?” She asked as she glanced up from her menu.
Her beautiful eyes caught mine, and I smiled.
“It’s good. Only have one more of it, too. Although, the man who does it with me isn’t near as nice to look at as you are,” I teased.
She gave me a wry look. “Whatever.”
I snorted and looked at my own menu, settling for the Turkey melt and chili, before setting it down and staring at Tru as she perused her menu.
“What are you getting?” She asked as she glanced up again.
“Turkey melt,” I said.
“Not a steak?” She asked in surprise.
We were, in fact, in one of the best steak places on this side of the Louisiana border, but my belt couldn’t afford any more bad eating. I’d already gained nearly fifteen pounds in the months after I’d had my surgery.
“My waist line doesn’t appreciate my love for steak,” I explained.
The waitress interrupted the conversation to take our orders. Tru ordered a six ounce rib eye and a baked potato, pleasing me. I liked a woman that wasn’t afraid to eat in front of a man. It was a nice breath of fresh air.
Molly, I’d observed, would never order anything other than a salad.
She snorted as the waitress took her leave. “Mine either; yet, you don’t see me eating a salad.”
I smiled widely at her. “I saw you in those tight shorts at the bar when you worked that spasm out of my shoulder. You looked pretty fucking enticing in those tight pants. No diet needed there.”
She blushed, making my smile turn wider.
“Iliana made me go. I’m still mad at her about that, as a matter of fact,” she pouted.
“I’m glad you came. That was a nightmare,” I said, truly meaning it.
That’d been so painful that it’d stolen my breath and made my stomach clench. Then her skillful hands had landed on me, offering her comfort, and taking my pain away from me.
She’d taken a little piece of me at that moment, and had spent the last three months taking away even more until I was hopeless with need.
I wanted her so bad I could barely stand it.
“I’m sure Molly, if I remember her n
ame correctly, would’ve taken care of it just fine,” she said softly.
I laughed.
That was a good one.
Molly doing anything that didn’t benefit her.
I’d earned myself the cold shoulder that night, and in the three months since, it’d never warmed.
Which, surprisingly, was fine with me.
In fact, I hadn’t thought about Molly once in the last couple of weeks.
“Molly’s one of my good friend’s little sister. She wouldn’t have offered any assistance, though. She’s the type that’d let you work your ass into the ground, regardless of any pain you’re feeling, as long as she had what she wanted,” I expounded.
She blinked. “You’re telling me she wasn’t willing to help you?”
I shook my head. “No. I’d been telling her all night that my shoulder wasn’t feeling good, and that it kept getting progressively worse in the three hours I was there. The only reason I’d stayed was because it was Tunnel’s birthday, which the club was celebrating. The entire time Molly kept going on and on about how upset she was about her job, while my head started pounding worse and worse. I was in the process of leaving when she threw a fit that I was her ride, and she didn’t want to leave yet. So I sat back down, and the jostling must’ve been what my shoulder needed to finally give. That’s when I dropped my beer. She only offered to rub my back when you started in our direction.”
What I didn’t tell her was that my eyes had stayed locked on Tru as soon as she’d made it through the door. Which had pissed off Molly even more.
Molly had realized that Tru was the woman that had put her hands all over me before the accident, and had let me know just how unhappy she was that she was there.
Tru’s mouth had dropped open during the explanation, and then anger slowly replaced her calm features. “What a bitch.”
I shrugged. Molly was an acquired taste.
She wasn’t that bad once you got to know her. She did, however, take a lot of getting used to.
Cleo loved her, and I had, at one point, thought I loved her.
Now, though, I knew better.
Molly was not for me, and I was not for Molly.
What was for me, was sitting right in front of me pissed off on general principle.
“That’s awful. I’m sorry,” she whispered quietly.
I shrugged, liking the fact that she cared. “It’s all right. I got over it.”
Charge to My Line Page 3