by Paige Weaver
“I don’t have to put up with this,” she said, yanking out of my grasp and trying to walk past me.
I grabbed her and pushed her back against the wall again, letting her know I was in charge this time. She glowered at me as I imprisoned her between my legs. Without touching her, I held her attention. We were a few inches apart. I could smell her, something sweet. Something that smelled slightly like sex.
“Say something. I know you want to,” Sam purred, giving me that sweet, false smile that made me want to turn her over and smack her on the ass. I was close to doing it too. She was too gorgeous for me to resist.
Instead I had another idea.
I dipped my head down and kissed her, my hands going to the wall behind her. She gave in, not resisting. A ragged moan escaped her mouth, just what I wanted to hear. I flicked my tongue out, running it over her lip ring before plunging into her mouth. She met me, her tongue sliding against mine. I stroked my fingers over her jaw, capturing her chin in my hand while my other hand stayed on the wall, supporting my weight.
I kissed her with everything in me. I branded her with my tongue and my mouth, wishing I could do the same to her body again. The thought of her giving up on us left me dangerously weak and I didn’t like it.
I softened the kiss until I was worshiping her lips, barely touching them with my own. “Don’t threaten me again, Sam,” I said, pulling back until I was an inch from her mouth.
“I wasn’t threatening you. I was stating the facts,” she said, trying to catch her breath, her body pressed up against the wall.
I glanced down at her breasts. My mouth watered, but this time for something different than the smooth taste of alcohol.
I wanted her again.
I put my hand behind her on the wall and leaned closer. Her nipples brushed against my chest. I could feel them, dying for my mouth. But right now, I had to other things to do.
Like make her trust me.
“Fact is, Sam, I won’t tell you a bunch of crap. You deserve the truth and I’ve always given it to you, no matter how much it hurts.” I swallowed hard, needing that drink now as much as I needed her. “So here’s the truth. I’m dying for a drink right now. I can feel my insides shrink up from going so long without one. My mouth feels like cotton and my hands are shaking. I want one just as badly as I want you. But I’m a bad person, Sam. I hate myself. Sometimes I can’t stand to look in the mirror because I see my dad staring back at me. But I’m standing here in front of you, telling you that I’m not walking away. Ever.”
I dropped my hands to my sides and took a step back, letting her go. Sam stared at me wide-eyed, moisture in the green depths of her eyes. It tore me up like never before. I didn’t want her tears or her pity. I just wanted her.
I turned and walked out the door. I had just laid my heart out for her to see, ripped, shredded, black, and bleeding.
Now I really needed a drink.
Chapter Twenty–Nine
-Walker-
“So you tried to steal a suped-up Lotus Evora worth a hundred thousand for these guys?” I asked Bentley with disbelief, uncapping the bottle of tequila and pouring myself another shot. “One of the most noticeable cars around?”
Bent looked humiliated as he studied his full shot glass. “Yeah, so I made a fucking mistake. I thought it would be easy. They told me where it would be. All I had to do was grab it and go.”
I shook my head with disgust then tossed back the tequila.
Bent did the same, swallowing his shot with gusto. He was on his way to getting plastered, thanks to the bottle of Patrón I had splurged on. After dropping off Sam, I stopped at my old stomping ground – Moore Liquor – and picked up the clear bottle of firewater. Bentley had looked like he needed it.
I know I sure as hell did.
Screwing Sam had made me crazy. I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I was possessed. I wanted nothing more than to jump in my car and return to her trailer. Burying my dick in her and never leave her again. Ignore the feelings growing between us and just screw. But I knew that wasn’t a possibility so I turned to the next best thing – getting drunk.
Bent slouched over the table, his shoulders curved forward. “I’m so fucking stupid,” he murmured, his words starting to slur.
“I would have to agree,” I said, pouring myself another shot. “Could you be any dumber? This is some serious shit, Bent. You didn’t try to steal some piece of crap BMW from a middle class neighborhood. You tried to steal from the king of all criminals - Nicholas Morrow. The man is a snake and he has fingers in everything. I’m surprised you’re even sitting here right now talking to me, and not in some ditch somewhere, your hands chopped off.”
Bent poured himself another drink and tossed it back, quicker this time. “At least it was his freaking daughter that had the car and not him or I would be fish food right now.”
“His daughter?” I asked, the shot glass halfway to my mouth.
Bent nodded, peering at me with red-rimmed eyes. “I had just sat down in the driver’s seat…” He sat up straighter, his eyes coming alive. “Do you know how soft the leather is in a Lotus? God, it was just as gorgeous on the inside as it was on the outside. Like a wet dream come true.”
“Focus, Bent. His daughter?” I asked. Tequila really messed Bentley up. So did expensive cars that had more horsepower than should be legal. He had a thing for them just like I had a thing for cheap muscle cars. To each their own, I guess.
Bent blinked, the faraway gaze in his eyes disappearing. “Yeah. The daughter. So I was doing my magic and getting the car started when this model comes strolling out of the club like she owned the place. She was stunning. I mean, just beautiful. I was kind of shell shocked and didn’t move fast enough. She saw me sitting in her car and what did she do? Attacked me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Attacked you? A girl. You’re like what? Six four. What was she, a pit bull? Is that who gave you those?” I asked, pointing to his face. He had a cut lip and a black eye, his second for this month.
Bent ran his tongue over the cut slicing his bottom lip. “No. The girl was the size of a stick. She just stood there and yelled at me.” He shook his head, studying the shot glass. “Next thing I know some douchebag is grabbing her and she’s fighting him off. I didn’t know who the guy was, but I know she wasn’t winning and he seemed to be a mean sonofabitch. So I jumped out of the car and yanked him off her. Next thing I know someone’s calling the cops and I’m on the ground, a big bouncer dude holding me down. I stayed there until I saw my opening then I bolted. In the car. Cops were waiting for me six blocks away, driving one ten in a fifty.”
“Jesus,” I swore, shaking my head. “Then you decided to resist arrest.”
Bent glanced up at me. “Yep.”
“Nice,” I muttered dryly.
“Classy, huh?”
I snorted and we both tossed back our drinks, Bent wincing as it burned going down. I set my shot glass on the table and dug my cell phone out of my pocket. I palmed it and ran my fingers over the screen, wanting to text Sam and ask if she was okay. Her painful cry the moment I had taken her virginity still haunted me. I told her I would go easy on her but once she started moving on my dick, I had gotten carried away. The thought of her sore right now left me worried.
And hard.
I cleared my throat, shoving the thought away. “So that was it? You stole a car, resisted arrest, and went to jail only to be released, no charges?”
Bent nodded.
“Something’s not right,” I muttered, uneasiness crawling along my spine.
“Tell me about it. Nothing’s been right for a long time,” Bent said, still studying his glass.
I agreed. Nothing was right. My whole damn life was screwed up. I shouldn’t want Sam and I should never have taken her virginity. I should have made her come with my mouth or fingers and left it at that. Who cared what my body wanted or needed. I should have been thinking with my head instead of my dick. But I didn’t and now I was goi
ng to pay with what was left of my black heart and my tattered soul.
I poured myself another drink and added some more to Bent’s. Bentley took the glass and raised it to his mouth, pausing midway. “My sister give you hell tonight?” he asked, eyeing me in the dim light of our kitchen.
“No,” I lied. “I told you about our little run-in with the gang. That was it.”
“Well, Sam told me that Lukas dumped her. I say good riddance. I catch any other man sniffing around, I’ll tear his ass apart,” Bentley vowed before tossing back the drink.
“She’s a grown woman, Bent. She can take care of herself. Give her space,” I said, trying to defuse the situation before it had even started. Bent could sniff interest in Sam from a mile away. I just hoped he couldn’t sniff mine.
Bent leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “Would you let her go, Walker? You and I both know what guys want and it isn’t a wedding ring. Get laid and get the hell out of there. Hasn’t that been our motto? I know it sure as hell is yours.”
I refused to answer. There was no need to because he was right. It’s what I had been doing for years.
“So tell me again I’m being ridiculous and I’ll back off and let the wolves have her,” Bentley said with a cold tone, refilling his glass.
I clenched my fists, the monster in me growling at the thought of someone else touching Sam. Someone like me.
“No one can have her, Bent,” I said with a snarl. “No one deserves her. Especially not a man like me.”
“Amen to that,” Bent said, holding up his shot glass in a toast. “I say screw all women, especially ones with fast cars and drop-dead gorgeous bodies.”
“That’s gonna come back to haunt you, Bent,” I muttered, holding my own shot glass up.
“So? Who do you say screw? Smart-ass little sisters?” he asked, slurring his words now.
I shrugged. Thing was I didn’t have the guts to tell him I already had.
“Well, I say screw the men I work for. Let them get their own damn car. And here’s to the person that got me out of jail. Thank you, buddy, whoever you are. I owe you,” Bent said, raising his glass then tossing the shot back.
Thing was, I think one of us was going to pay for Bentley’s debt and I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be him.
Chapter Thirty
-Sam-
After Walker dropped me off at home I spent what was left of the night thinking of him. My body was tender and sore, every inch of me. I could still feel the rasp of his whiskered chin on my breasts, leaving a burn that branded me. There were marks on my skin from where his fingers had grasped my hips tightly and the gearshift poked into my leg. All I could think about was his body in mine, taking my virginity, making me come. His words still rang in my ear hours later, reminding me that he might not love me but he would never leave me.
I dragged myself to work hours after he left with Bentley. I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept much, too worried about my brother. He had looked broken down, bruised, and busted last night when we walked into the police station. He swore he had everything under control, but I doubted it. He was hiding something from me, I just didn’t know what.
“You got sugar?”
The voice smacked me back to reality. I was back at Meet and Eat, standing in a room full of customers.
I reached over to an empty table and grabbed a container of sugar packets. “Here you go,” I said, setting the little box down in the middle of the table a little too hard.
Jerk #1 smirked up at me with amusement while Jerk #2 frowned and reached for one of the sugar packets. Both guys had been bothering me since they walked in the door. They were in their middle twenties, if I had to guess. One was blonde and the other brown-haired. From the moment they sat down at my table, their innuendos began and their gazes stayed locked on my boobs. As much as I needed the tips, I was getting tired of it.
“How long have you worked here, babe?” Jerk #1 asked.
“A while,” I said, ignoring the way his eyes glanced down my fitted Meet and Eat t-shirt, lingering too long on my breasts. “More tea?”
“Please,” Jerk #2 said with pleasure, looking at me like I was offering him a lap dance instead of a refill.
I filled his cup, imaging I was pouring the ice-cold tea over his head instead. His gaze ran over my breasts but, unlike his friend, he didn’t stop there. His eyes ran down to my butt, covered by my skinny jeans.
“What’s your name?” #2 asked.
I pointed to my nametag. “Saaammm,” I said, sounding it out like they were kindergartners learning to read.
A look of anger came over #2’s face. There goes my tip, I thought, holding back a grumble. But Jerk #1 didn’t seem to care. He had more pressing matters on his mind. “You got any more of those piercings?” he asked, staring at my lip ring then glancing down my body.
I gripped the handle of the pitcher tighter. “Nope,” I answered.
Before they could say anything else, I turned to walk away.
And ran smack into Pam Man.
“Well, well, well. If it ain’t Miss Sammy Ross,” he said, reaching out and grabbing my arm to keep me from falling when I ran into him. “The prettiest girl in town.”
All the blood rushed from my head. I hadn’t been face to face with Pam Man in years. I was suddenly that scared little girl again, frightened of the man who tried to touch her and get her alone so many times.
A twinkle sparkled in the colorless depths of Mick’s eyes. He smiled, displaying teeth that were too large and too white, reminding me of a ferocious animal just before it attacked. He was still stocky with a solid build, but it was his hair that gained my attention. It was still thick and dark, a deep brown the exact color of mud. And it still looked greasy, like he hadn’t washed it in days. Just like it had years ago when I was a kid.
I yanked my arm from his grasp and took a step back. “What are you doing here, Mick?”
He grabbed the waistband of his brown police uniform and tugged, hiking his pants up higher. “That ain’t no way to greet an old friend, Sammy,” he said with a slimy voice, glancing down my body. “How you been?”
I felt fear crawl along my spine. We were surrounded by a room full of customers and this jackass still had the ability to scare me. The thought made me sick. Refusing to answer him, I stepped around him but he grabbed my arm again, stopping me from leaving.
“You ain’t happy to see me?” he asked, his voice too friendly. “That’s a shame because I’m suuure happy to see you.” He leaned closer, his cheap cologne making my nose itch. “And your mama was sure happy to see me the other night too.”
I shot my gaze up, rage replacing my fear. “Stay away from my mom, asshole.”
Pam Man’s smile slipped a little but he recovered quickly. “I can’t promise that, cupcake.”
I took a step closer to him, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the restaurant and my inner voice telling me to run. Fury bubbled in me. “I know you gave her something the other night, Mick. I sobered her up myself. If you come near her again, you’ll be sorry. Got it?”
Pam Man raised one bushy eyebrow, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “You threatening an officer of the law, Sammy?”
“Yes,” I said without remorse.
“Tsk, tsk, Sammy. That ain’t the way good girls act,” Mick said, shaking his head. The excitement in his eyes turned into something else, something disgusting. “But maybe you ain’t so good. Maybe you’re bad. Hmmm. Tell me, just what would you do to me, cupcake, if I came around your mama? I want the details.”
A chill ran down my spine. He must have seen the effect he had on me because his smile widened. I took a step back, knowing when I was in over my head. This man was more than a sleazeball. He was dangerous.
I started around him, needing to get away, but his words stopped me.
“How’s your brother doing, sweetheart?”
I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach. All the air left my lungs. I glanced over my shoulder,
frightened once again.
Pam Man’s eyes had a knowing glint to them, making me sick. “Tell him I said hello.” He started walking away casually but then stopped and turned to face me again, glancing up and down my body with a salivating smile. “And I’ll be seeing you, Sammy. Real soon.”
With a wink and a grin, he walked away, disappearing in the busy restaurant. Leaving me with a chill.
~~~~
Hours later my shift ended and I headed home. I gathered my bag and umbrella and scooted out of the cracked plastic seat of the city bus. Rain fell outside, making metallic pinging sounds as they hit the vehicle. The large tires made a splashing sound on the rain-drenched streets as we cruised along. Any other day the sound might have soothed me, but today I was on edge.
I tried to keep my footing as I walked down the muddy center aisle, stopping to hold onto a strap overhead when the bus turned a corner too fast. My hair was curling with the humidity, making it impossible to control. I tucked an unruly strand behind my ear and waited for my stop. When the driver righted the bus, I put the strap of my tote bag over my head and dropped it across my shoulder and chest then made my way to the front.
I tried to ignore the blatant stares from some of the men as I passed them. My gaze stayed locked on the bus’s large windshield wipers as they swung back and forth, doing their best to keep the rain cleared off. Back. Forth. Back. Forth. It helped me block out all the interested stares cast my way as I waited for the bus to stop. I hated riding city transportation, but Red and Tammy had both been gone today and I didn’t have it in me to ask anyone else for a ride.
The bus driver swung the wide bus toward a rain-washed curb and slammed on the brakes. As soon as the little bi-fold doors swung open, I hopped down the rubber steps of the bus. A second later it took off, engine smoke puffing out of the exhaust pipe.