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by Elyzabeth M. VaLey


  Chapter Twelve

  Betty’s mouth was so dry she feared Rayden would see the cracks on her lips. Her nerve endings tingled, and she could hear her pulse rushing in her ears. She didn’t know where she’d found the strength to tell him it was late, because every ounce of her body craved him. Yet, like the sun and the moon, they couldn’t be one because doing so would jeopardize everything. She’d lose her apprenticeship, the only thing she’d been working for nonstop for the past few years, and all for a kiss and a quick fuck. What would happen when he no longer wanted her around? When she became nothing more than a useless object? No. This was the right thing to do, even if it hurt to do it.

  “Rayden.”

  She meant to apologize, to excuse herself, but the words didn’t come. Her throat clogged up. Rayden gave her a lopsided grin.

  “Apparently I can’t act like an adult when I’m around you,” he said.

  “Rayden, I, you—”

  “Don’t sweat it, baby doll. I pushed too far, and I got burned.”

  “It’s not that—”

  “Don’t,” he said, clasping her cheek. “Don’t explain yourself to me. You don’t need to, and you most definitely don’t have to. I’ll see myself out and we’ll talk tomorrow, ok?”

  “But—”

  “Betty, if I stay here for another second, I might kiss you anyway, and I really don’t want you to slap me.”

  “I wouldn’t slap you.”

  He ran his hands through his hair.

  “Don’t tempt me,” Rayden said gruffly. “Your car keys are up front?”

  She gave him a brief nod.

  “I’ll take them with me so my friend can collect your car tomorrow. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

  “Rayden.”

  Shaking his head, he walked out. Betty heard the front door open, then close and the sound of his car’s engine as he drove off. Legs shaking, she sat on the edge of the bed and covered her face with her hands. The only man whom she’d been madly attracted to in the last eight years, who wasn’t running for the hills at the sight of her and her baggage, and she had all but kicked him out of her house.

  “Fool. Fool. Fool.”

  She threw herself against the mattress. The familiar loneliness settled within her, ripping at her chest as it crept out and blanketed over her like suffocating heat in the height of summer. The sound of her breathing grew distant. She dozed off.

  ****

  Becky woke up with a start. She heard Abby moan and Antonio groan, and she covered her ears. Bloody hell. They were at it again. Abby shrieked. Becky giggled. The woman really couldn’t take much pain. Then again, she never had the necessary equipment. Betty fished under her bed.

  “Tada,” she whispered.

  Taking a swig, she swore loudly. It was empty. Sliding out of bed, she tiptoed across the bedroom and down the hallway. Antonio’s door burst open.

  “There’s my favorite slut,” he cried. If he was surprised to find her out and about, he didn’t mention it or didn’t care. “Come suck my cock,” he said. “Finish what that bitch, Abby, can’t.” Becky glanced behind Antonio. Abby was crouching on the floor, weeping.

  Betty couldn’t help the smug smile dangling from her lips. Her knees were raw, but she would always get on all fours for her Master. As much as Abby claimed to love Master, she was never enough for him.

  “That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said, while she crawled to him.

  She reached Antonio and mischievously glanced up at him. Betty shrieked, scrambling backwards.

  “Rayden.”

  “Baby doll.”

  He walked toward her, and she retreated until her body hit the wall.

  “Don’t be scared, baby doll.”

  He crouched in front of her and gently touched her cheek.

  “Just kiss me.”

  Betty burst into tears.

  ****

  She woke up with a start. Sitting up in bed, she touched her face, startled to find it wet.

  Rayden.

  He’d chased Antonio away, but then he, too, had vanished. She was alone as always. Curling into a ball, she wept. Her muscles ached, but the pain nestled deep in her soul, like a splinter which embedded itself further inside, was worse.

  ****

  “Abby, this is Becky.”

  “Hi.”

  The woman, a few years older than she was, seemed nice enough, even if not impressed to see her. Becky smiled and swayed on her come-fuck-me, red heels. Antonio had insisted she wear them. Always wear heels when you’re with me. It’s what sexy women do, and you want to be sexy and popular, don’t you? You want to please me, don’t you? Of course she did. When she was with Antonio everything was so much more fun. She felt like an adult. She no longer was the girl whose siblings had died in that fire. The loser who came dressed as if she was twelve because her alcoholic father forgot to buy her clothes. No. She was important. She was loved. She didn’t have to remember the all-consuming pain of loss.

  Antonio took care of her, so she did everything she could to make him happy. And now, when she was so close to being eighteen, he’d asked her to come meet his girlfriend. She didn’t care if he had another woman in his life. He’d explained he couldn’t love only one woman at a time. He had too much love to give, and she understood. He had so much to give. What did it matter if he loved one hundred women as long as she was one of them?

  “Becky, remember I told you we were going to play a game today? One which would make me love you even more?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Antonio flicked his wrist, and she dropped to her knees. Abby gasped.

  “Abby, you know how happy this would make me, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Sir? She only called him Sir. How basic. Becky giggled, the effects of the alcohol still running strong through her veins.

  “Be a good girl and do everything Abby tells you, Becky.”

  She glanced at her Master, and he winked.

  “I promise you’ll get a treat after.” The glint of a sharp object caught her eye, and she tried not to squirm. Master didn’t like it when she complained. She had to be a good girl.

  “Come here, bitch,” Abby pointed to a spot at her feet. Becky crawled to her. Her nerve endings tingled with apprehension.

  “Master,” she mumbled.

  “Here. Take this. You’ll feel better.”

  She took the pill without asking. The world became a better place. Nothing mattered anymore. She had found her happy place, except someone was screaming. She covered her ears. The screaming didn’t stop. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. She looked around her. What was this red thing? Blood. Blood. My blood.

  She screamed.

  ****

  Betty cried out, thrashing in bed.

  “No,” she cried, weeping. “No.” She touched her breast, the skin palpitating with the familiar old pain. Switching on the light, she flung off her clothes to be able to check the scar. She jolted at the sight of her breast. The ugly puckered line was gone. A bird covered it, wings open. Free at last to soar the world. Relief unlike anything she’d felt in years embraced her.

  “Rayden.”

  She wiped the tears streaming down her face.

  Thank you.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Her phone’s alarm clock went off. On automatic pilot, Betty got up from the floor where she’d been sitting drawing, and staggered to the bathroom.

  “Shower and work,” she murmured. She took off her t-shirt. How many hours had she slept? Three or four at best. All of them in fitful bouts, where Antonio and Rayden alternated their appearances like clothing on a rack. She was exhausted. Physically and emotionally. All she wanted was for the next forty-eight hours to be over. Tears filled her eyes. Her chest hurt, and her stomach churned. She threw open the toilet seat and dry heaved.

  “Go to work, Betty,” she said between gritted teeth. “And then the festival. With Rayden.” She sniffled. When she jumped
into the shower, the cool water was like a slap to the face, invigorating her enough to momentarily put order to her thoughts. She only had to endure this nightmare for another two days, and then, it would be over. Once Antonio’s death rolled by, she’d place him on the shelf and avoid thinking about him again until next year. Then, she’d be able to focus on Rayden and her tattoos. The pang in her chest caught her off guard.

  “Only as my mentor,” she told herself.

  Except, she still felt like an idiot for sending him away. As little as she knew him, the man appealed to her in a primal way she couldn’t explain. She was comfortable with him, the way she expected to be when in the company of old friends, but there was more to it. The sexual undercurrent sizzling between them had her on perpetual edge, and she was certain that if it weren’t Antonio’s death-versary or that Rayden was supposed to be her boss, they would’ve already rolled into bed.

  Betty rinsed and stepped out. She took in her reflection. Dark bags under her eyes and a harried appearance she’d have to work hard to hide. Sighing, she got ready for work and headed to the kitchen.

  It didn’t take long before she settled in front of the TV, sipping at a steaming mug of coffee and eating some toast. Her phone rang. She almost dropped it when she saw who it was. Coffee slushed over the edge of the mug as she hastily set it down.

  “Hello? Rayden?”

  “Hey, Betty. How are you?” His gravelly voice tickled her ears, making her breath catch.

  “Okay,” she lied. “You?”

  “Slept like shit, but listen, I spoke with my friend. Since today is Sunday, Ricardo said he would take a bit longer to get your car in order, but he’ll try to have it by tonight.”

  “Oh. I understand.”

  “So, I’ll go pick you up. At what time do you finish?”

  “At one.”

  “Great. I’ll meet you up front. Same place as yesterday.”

  “Are you sure, Rayden? Don’t you think—”

  “That I should go pick you up and you should stop arguing?” He chuckled darkly, making her pussy clench at the sound. “Most definitely. I’ll see you later, baby doll.”

  “But, Rayden—”

  The line went dead. Betty stared at her device. She pressed her lips together, but it didn’t work. The smile creeping up her face settled. An unfamiliar sensation swept over her, but she finally recognized it. Peace. Contentment.

  Her phone rang again. Betty jumped and answered on the second ring without looking at the caller.

  “Hello? Oh, hey Molly.”

  ****

  She stepped outside, the heat making pinpricks of darkness dance in her gaze. When her vision finally focused, her stomach did a double flip. Rayden stood next to his car, holding the passenger door open. Sunglasses covered his eyes, but the smile on his lips was enough to make her hunger for him triple. She didn’t remember Antonio ever sporting such a grin.

  Damn. Why did she have to go and tell him to leave last night? All she wanted to do right now was go up to him and kiss him. Every inch of her body tingled, heat unfurling through her and landing with an intense thud between her legs.

  “Hey,” he said. His gaze raked over her, hardening her nipples into further tight nubs. “You look fantastic.”

  “Thank you,” she said, climbing onto the seat. Their arms brushed, and a jolt of electricity rocked her from head to toe. Rayden stumbled backwards as if burned.

  “Let’s go,” he said. “Before I do something stupid again.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Overall, the second day at the festival had been a success. They’d gotten their name out there, done a few piercings and a bunch of tattoos. It would have been perfect if it weren’t for Betty. Something was off with her. They’d managed to rein in their feelings and act like responsible adults, but as closing time came nearer, she started to get restless. Her eyes would dart left and right, she’d jump at the slightest thing, and anything she carried ended up on the floor. He’d tried to figure out what was wrong, but she kept repeating she was just tired.

  The ride back home had been done in relative silence. Betty appeared to be lost in thought, and he wished nothing more than to be her Dom so the communication channels would open and he could find out what was truly bothering her.

  Rayden sucked on his lip ring. They were almost at Betty’s house. At least he hoped his little surprise eased her mind for a bit. Abruptly, she sat up straight.

  “Is that my car?” she asked.

  Rayden grinned.

  “Yep. You know the guy I was working on? The one with the eagle tattoo?”

  “Yes—”

  “That’s my friend, Ricardo. He dropped off your car and came to the festival. I have your keys.” He parked behind her car and fished in his pockets for her key.

  “Here. Why don’t you try it out?”

  Appearing bewildered, Betty went to her vehicle. She sat, but left the door open. Her engine roared to life. Casually approaching, Rayden leaned on the roof and peeked within. His gaze landed on the tantalizing dip of her breasts, and his mouth watered.

  “Rayden, the tank’s full. I’m pretty sure I had less than a quarter left,” Betty said. Her face reddened, and he was positive she’d caught him red-handed. He shrugged.

  “Magic.”

  He wasn’t going to tell her he’d told Ricardo to fill the tank or that he’d covered all of the car’s repairs. If he couldn’t fuck Betty, he might as well do something nice for her, especially, since he apparently couldn’t act responsibly around her.

  “How much do I owe you?” she asked.

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  “What?” She spun to face him, pulling her legs out of the car as if to exit it, but Rayden’s presence blocked her.

  “Nothing,” he repeated.

  “But, Rayden—”

  “No buts, Betty. Consider it a welcome present.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’ll think of last night and I’ll give it more meaning than you’re asking me to, and then I’ll want to kiss you even more than I already do, and we shouldn’t.” Her blue eyes widened. “We shouldn’t,” she said more adamantly, almost as if aiming to convince herself.

  “Betty, I didn’t do it because of what happened between us yesterday. I genuinely just wanted to make life easier for you.”

  She stood up suddenly, forcing him to take a step back to make her room.

  “Don’t,” she said, gripping his wrist. “Can I give you a hug? A thank you hug.”

  Her gaze bored into his soul, begging him to let her come closer, whispering for him to watch out. He paid it no heed.

  “How could I say no to that?”

  She wrapped her arms around his middle, her petite figure molding to him. Her fragrance wafted up his nose. Spicy, like coriander and some kind of citrusy flower. He rested his chin on her head, craving more. The pressure of her fingertips on his back intensified. He pulled her closer, wishing to protect her, cocoon her against the cruelty of the world in which he’d first met her.

  “Rayden,” she whispered.

  He glanced down at her, their gazes locking. His heart sped up, perfectly aware of what was about to happen. Betty stood on her toes and pressed her mouth to his. The touch was gentle, barely a union of the softest flesh, but it was enough. Fireworks exploded on his lips, setting his whole body on fire. Placing his hand at the nape of her neck, he threaded his fingers in her hair and tilted her head to gain full access to her mouth. Betty moaned and encircled his neck with her arms. He nipped her bottom lip, and she opened up to him with a whimper. Their tongues found each other, stroking, tasting, sucking with desperation. Rayden’s palms slid down to her ass, cupping it beneath the short shorts she wore. He teased her cheeks, slipping a finger beneath the material, reveling in the searing heat of her flesh. His cock leaked pre-cum in his jeans. Betty rubbed against him, mewling.

  “Betty,” he groaned, peppering kisses across
her jaw, sucking on the soft spot behind her ear. “Baby doll.”

  He reached for one of her breasts, kneading the supple flesh. Betty cried out and stumbled backwards, almost falling into the car. Rayden grabbed her.

  “Betty.”

  “My tattoo,” she said weakly. She drew into herself, crossing her arms and tugging at her shirt. Her gaze didn’t meet his eyes.

  “Fuck,” he swore. “Did I hurt you?”

  “A bit. It’s raw, but, Rayden,” she whispered. “What are we doing?”

  “We’re being adults,” he replied.

  “More like hormonal teenagers,” she said, exhaling loudly. “You’re my mentor.”

  “Betty, we’ve known each other for three days, and we can’t keep our hands off each other. Do you think it’ll get better? What if we made it work? We’re adults. We’re reasonable. We’re—”

  “I’m not sure,” she cut him off. “I need time to think, and today is not a good day, Rayden.”

  Rayden sucked in his cheeks. He was an idiot. Pushing her when he knew better. He had to tread carefully, give her time, and yet, he’d screwed up again. He deserved to be kicked in the balls. He dragged his fingers through his hair.

  “I’m sorry, Betty. You’re right. You know, I’m normally more restrained than this. You bring something out of me that makes me want to devour you.”

  Her breath hitched.

  “Please, Rayden.” She glanced at her house as if someone were waiting for her there. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “Sure.” Leaning over, he planted a kiss on the top of her head and prayed he hadn’t messed things up so badly she wouldn’t ever see him again. “Bye, baby doll.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Good morning, boss.”

  Rayden looked up from his drawing. Vivienne stood at the door, brow furrowed.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Morning, Viv,” Rayden said.

  “You look like hell,” she added.

  “Thanks for your input.” Rayden huffed. “I didn’t sleep very well.”

  Viv raised her eyebrows.

  “Hot sex can do that to you, but if you arrived before I did then it means you actually couldn’t sleep.”

 

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