by JB Salsbury
Her thighs quake and the soft sounds falling from her lips spur me on until I’m lost to my need for release. I close my eyes, bite down, and send her soaring over the edge. My mind scatters, my heart pounds and I follow right after her with a primal growl against her throat.
Seconds pass as I catch my breath and wait for awareness to return. I pull myself off her, toss the condom in the trash, and tuck myself back into my sweatpants. She looks like an erotic painting, sprawled out on my bed with her open shirt, rumpled skirt, and the angry red mark I left behind on her neck.
She sits up, pulls off her blindfold and meets my eyes boldly. “Even better than I thought it would be.”
“Happy to be of service,” I say through clenched teeth. I hate how easily I gave in. I hate myself for not being able to resist her. Lucky for me, self-hatred is something I’ve spent my life perfecting. “Anything else I can do for you, Miss Brawley?”
She fixes her shirt, buttoning up to the top and covering my mark. I have an unreasonable desire to rip her collar open.
She ties the black scarf around her neck and straightens her skirt. “Yes, Mr. Web.” She smooths her hair, easily putting herself back together as if she’d never been dirtied by me. “We’re just getting started.” She slips on her shoes and moves toward the door, stopping at my shoulder, she looks up at me with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “We’re not so different, you know.”
“How would you know?” I look her up and down making sure she sees disgust on my face rather than the awe-struck attraction I can’t seem to fight. “You don’t even know me.”
“I see it in your eyes, Theodore.”
“Oh yeah, and what do you think you see?”
“The same thing you see when you look in mine. Nothing.” She walks out of my room without another word, and there’s one thing I know without a doubt.
This isn’t the last I’ll see of Emery Brawley.
Chapter Nine
Emery
“Where were you last night?” My dad’s accusatory tone stiffens my muscles. Of course he would ask while we’re stuck in the car together and I can’t walk away.
Bored, I loll my head to the side and take in his tight jaw and tense brow. “Now you’re the overprotective dad, huh?” I smile. “Too little too late.”
If he were a cartoon I’d see steam billowing from his ears. “While you live under my roof—”
“Kick me out then.”
His jaw slams shut.
“That’s what I thought.” I stare ahead at the BSU campus in the distance and contemplate the pros and cons of throwing my body from a moving vehicle to walk the rest of the way.
“I worry about you—”
“Ha. That’s funny.”
“Emery, I’m really trying here.” At a stoplight he takes the opportunity to look at me. “I admit I’ve made mistakes but I’m trying to make up for—”
“You can’t.” I lost both my parents when I was nine years old. Neither of them can be brought back to life. “You’re wasting your energy, trust me.”
“You really don’t want a relationship with me?” The light turns green and his eyes move back to the road.
I know my answer is going to hurt him, and for the first time I feel a little sorry about that. But I’ve never lied to spare a person’s feelings in my entire life and I won’t start now. “No. I know that’s not what you were hoping to hear but it’s the truth. I’m grateful you’ve given me somewhere to live, but you’re nothing more than a roommate, and frankly, you’re a roommate I’m not especially fond of.”
He cringes. “I assumed when you asked to come live with me and go to college at BSU you wanted—”
“You assumed wrong. I ran out of money, needed a place to stay and with your free college tuition I can get a degree, fulfill the demands of mom’s will, and claim the rest of the money. After that, you’ll never see me again.”
“This doesn’t sound like you at all.”
“How would you know?”
He clears his throat. “I’m just saying, you’re staying out all night and you’re easily angered, maybe you might want to consider going back on the meds.”
I stare blankly ahead and my hand slides to the door handle as I consider throwing myself from the truck. “You haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about.’
He parks in the athletic department lot and I grab my messenger bag from the floor by my feet. “Just think about it.”
My gaze jerks to his. “No.”
He frowns. “You’re not well,” he says through gritted teeth.
How he thinks after he abandoned me that he can swoop back into my life and start telling me who I can sleep with and make suggestions about how I take care of myself makes me want to come unhinged. So, in response, I smile.
“I’m still your dad—”
“You’re not. Not in any way that counts.”
“I know you want to hurt me.” His eyes, the same blue as my own, are unwavering.
If he only knew how badly, he’d have me committed.
“If you insist on spending nights out, all I ask is…”
Here we go. He’s going to expect I call him and let him know who I’m with and when I’ll be home. Or maybe he’ll ask for the person’s name and telephone number as if I’m a ten-year-old girl who can’t take care of herself?
“Stay away from my football players.”
A renewed anger wells up inside me. As if I’m a cancer that might infect his precious team? I shouldn’t be surprised. He prioritized football over me ten years ago, too.
I push open the car door and hop out of the truck.
“Emery, I’m serious. Stay away from my team.”
A fist tightens around my chest, squeezing painfully. I slam the door behind me and leave him to his demands and lousy attempts of reconciliation.
The sooner he gives up on me, the better.
Spider
I was wrong about not seeing the last of Emery Brawley.
Where once I was seeing her every time I looked up—on campus, in the coffee shop, locker room—I haven’t seen her anywhere in over a week.
At first, I didn’t look. Why would I when the girl kept popping up around every corner? So I started to pay attention to the people around me, found my gaze jumping to every opened door, every glossy blonde head. Eight days and zero sign of her.
Did I imagine her? If it weren’t for the expensive perfume still scenting my bed sheets I may have believed she wasn’t real. But even after her scent faded I can still feel the ghost of her kiss on my mouth, the pinch of her bite, and the sting of her nails on my back.
She must’ve kept our last hook up to herself or Coach would’ve pulled me aside by now. He seems to be in a better mood, makes me wonder if Emery left town for good.
Was her showing up at my house to seduce me her way of saying goodbye?
Why the fuck does that make me want to put my fist through a wall?
“You’re growling.”
I whip my head around to see my roommate Loren standing next to me.
His gaze moves between me and the open refrigerator door in my hand. “What’s pissing you off? The fact that Rowan’s leftover Thai chicken is gone? Because that’s my bad.”
I look back into the fridge wondering how long I’ve been standing at the open door. “You’re a dick.” I close the door and shuffle to the cupboard to pull out the protein powder. “Her Thai chicken is my favorite.”
“Dude. It’s everyone’s favorite.” He swirls the contents of his shaker cup before taking a gulp. “And leftovers are fair game.” He drops onto a stool at the kitchen island. “I set my alarm for three o’clock this morning to get to them before any of you assholes.”
The back door flies open to reveal a sweat soaked Kaipo. “Fuck you guys.” Out of breath from our midday run, he braces his hands on his thighs and breathes hard.
Kaipo is a big ass Hawaiian who annihilates the opposing teams offensive line, but hi
s cardio game is lacking. Every Saturday we go on a six-mile run and his big ass is always the last to get home.
Carey and Levi went straight to the pool to cool off while the rest of us gather in the kitchen to protein load.
The light footsteps of Carey’s girlfriend Rowan come down the stairs and the redhead freezes in the doorway. Her big eyes move around the space as she takes in three sweaty, shirtless men in the Martha Stewart style country kitchen. “You didn’t.”
I know exactly what she’s talking about so I point out the guilty, tattle-tailing on his ass. “He did.”
“Loren! I was going to take that to work for dinner!”
The Ken doll look-a-like shrugs with a cocky grin. “Then you should’ve hidden it. Come on, Ro, you know how this works.”
“I did hide it! I put it in an empty cottage cheese container and hid it back behind the almond milk.”
The three of us cringe at the mention. I don’t care how good Rowan claims the shit is for us, I refuse to swallow nut milk.
Loren is unapologetic as he brushes off the tiny woman. “You’ll have to hide it better next time.”
She sighs and squeezes past a still panting Kaipo to grab a protein bar.
The door swings open and Carey steps inside wearing a towel around his waist. He spots his woman and makes a beeline for her, wrapping her up and kissing her as if no one else was in the room. Rowan squirms out of his arms acting uncomfortable but has a big grin on her face.
“Call in sick,” Carey says in a deep voice that reeks of a man who wants to bury himself inside his woman, his hands roaming every inch of her body.
“I can’t.” She tries to wiggle away, but he doesn’t release her. “I’m training a new girl tonight.”
He groans and puts his face in her neck. The guy is so whipped it’s disgusting.
I decide to take my protein shake to my room when I hear a name that stops me in my tracks.
“Emery?” Carey says. “Coaches kid, Emery?”
Rowan frees herself from his arms. “She got hired for night shifts which sucks because I mostly work mornings, but we’ll be able to work together on a few weekends.”
The man snags her and pulls her back into his arms making her giggle.
Having heard all I need to, I continue up to my room.
Emery didn’t leave town.
She’s still around and obviously avoiding me.
And why do I care?
I wanted her to leave me alone. Didn’t I?
Well, fuck. Now I know where she works. That’ll make her easier to avoid.
As I step inside my bedroom my gaze snags on my bed. Conjured from my thoughts I can see Emery in her conservative schoolgirl outfit with her shirt open and her legs spread. I can feel the phantom beat of her pulse as it races against my palm, my fingers clenched around her throat, her breath coming in bursts. Lust spears through me and I groan.
Seems the kitten’s bite has left a mark.
Chapter Ten
Emery
“Let me get a two-twenty degree, no foam, soy cappuccino and a non-fat latte with caramel drizzle.” The pretty brunette decked out in her Victoria’s Secret Pink sweatpants and cropped tee flicks me her credit card.
I bite my lip to keep from asking the point of non-fat milk when it’s smothered in caramel and swipe the damn card.
“Meegan.” She lifts her brows. “The name for the order? You didn’t ask. It’s Meegan.”
I hand her card back. “It’ll be up shortly.”
She tucks her card back into her Louis Vuitton wrist wallet and I go about making her drinks.
Today is my fourth day on the job and the first hour I’ve been on my own. Thankfully, growing up at an elite boarding school has prepared me for pretentious coffee orders and I learned how to steam milk when I was twelve years old so being a barista isn’t a challenge. I do find the social aspect of the service industry to be highly annoying.
I set the made drinks on the counter. “Megan!”
The girl’s belly button ring catches the fluorescent light as she makes her way back to the bar. “You mean Meegan?”
“Yeah, sorry.” I’m not sorry. I did it on purpose because I like to remind people that they’re forgettable.
“It’s cool.” She bounces one shoulder. “It happens.” She turns to walk away and I roll my eyes, but she surprises me when she turns quickly back around. “Do we have advanced econ together? Professor Barrons?”
I can’t confirm we have class together. I don’t make a habit of making friends in my classes, or eye contact.
She tilts her head. “You sit in the middle, behind the guy who always gets called out for falling asleep.” She wrinkles her nose. “He looks like Lurch from The Adam’s family.”
He does. I liked him instantly.
Her eyes light up. “I haven’t seen you on The Row.” Her gaze narrows. “What house are you?”
“House?”
She takes me in, from my ponytail wrapped in a cornflower-blue, silk scarf to my Bean Madness logoed shirt tucked into my pleated khaki pants. “You look like an Alpha girl, but you don’t strike me as a jock, so maybe Kai Omega or Gama but I know all their pledges, so…”
“A sorority.” Of course she’d assume I would be part of a cult where homogeneity rules and traditional gender roles are reinforced and based in hundreds year old tradition they’re resistant to change. No thanks.
“Yes. Oh…” Her expression falls. “Are you not?”
“No.”
Animation returns to her face in the form of excitement. “You should pledge Eta Pi!”
Ate a pie? That has to be joke. “I don’t think so.”
“We’re having a party Friday night. Just come and check it out.” She does another quick inspection of my face and I know exactly what she thinks she’s seeing. Rich, white, entitled…basic bitch. “We’re on the corner of Main and University. Big white house with EP on the front, you can’t miss it.” When I don’t immediately answer, she turns back to her study partner and finger waves to me over her shoulder with a, “See you there!”
No. You won’t.
The rest of the night passes fairly easily. Tuesday nights fill the shop with study groups and couples on a date. By nine o’clock the cafe empties and I lock the doors. I double check my list of closing procedures to ensure I didn’t miss anything, and then make the short, depressing trip home. At least working nights I’m guaranteed to avoid an awkward run-in with my dad.
I’m locking the door when I feel a presence behind me. A figure stands shrouded in a pocket of darkness between two overhead lights. Tall, broad shoulders, confident stance—if I were blindfolded I’d know his form by touch alone. A shiver races across my skin.
“Theodore.” His name is an inaudible exhale from my lips.
He tilts his head as if he heard me, which is impossible.
I cross toward him and boldly join him in the darkness. A girl with a cell of common sense would argue against being alone in the dark with a man as sadistic as Theodore Web. But I’m not like other girls. His cruelty excites me. His perversions thrill me and leave me tingling for days.
“Kitten.” The single word is a low vibration from his chest drenched in longing.
“What do you want?”
His black baseball hat shades his eyes and adds a boyish softness to the savage lines of his face. “Haven’t seen you around lately.”
I feel the corner of my mouth tick up and try desperately to hide it. “I’ve been around—”
“Don’t waste my time.”
I lift my chin. “But it’s okay for you to waste mine? You told me to leave you alone.”
His slow, sultry smile reveals a flash of white teeth. “Since when do you do what you’re told?”
I take a step back to test a theory and the way he sways in my direction as if he’s preparing to lunge confirms my assumption. “You want me to stalk you and bait you and show up at your house uninvited.”
He doesn’t deny it.
“If you want me, you’re going to have to come and get me.”
“I don’t like playing games.” The predatory glint in his eyes contradicts him.
“You’re lying.” I take another step back and his jaw flexes. Knowing a hunter could never resist the drive to chase his prey, I walk away.
Three steps and his hand wraps around the front of my neck. Rather than pull me back he steps close, presses the muscled wall of his chest and abs against me. His fingers flex on my throat unleashing a wave of tingles in my belly. His lips find my ear. “I don’t like you.” His quickly hardening erection is pinned at my lower back in blatant disagreement.
“I find that hard to believe.” I want to laugh in victory at the way his fingers quake against my throat as if he’s resisting the urge to take what he so desperately wants.
He bites the shell of my ear and growls. “If you walk away from me again, I won’t come after you.”
A full-body shiver slides through him and he releases me with a gentle push.
Theodore isn’t like the boys I’m used to. He doesn’t touch me like I might break, try to flatter me with compliments or shower me with gifts. He’s callus, cold, and calculating. I haven’t felt anything in so long, yet his presence alone brings warmth to my cold, dead heart.
And here he is, challenging me to turn around and admit that I want him. That I may even need him.
I straighten my shoulders and walk away.
True to his word, he doesn’t come after me.
Chapter Eleven
Emery
A busy Friday night at the coffee shop is made easier with Rowan working alongside me. She’s been at the register non-stop while I’ve steamed at least five gallons of milk in as many hours. The place is packed with college students caffeinating up for a night of partying.
“You good?” Rowan calls over to me between orders.
I dust cinnamon on a cloud of foam and pop a lid on it. “Mara!” I call out the name on the order and turn to my co-worker. “I’m good. How long does this rush last?”
