Dumb Girl

by C. R. Jane

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she pulled away and then slowly, ever so slowly, wrapped her arms around my waist and rested her head against my chest.

  Why did it feel so good to hold her close and know that my touch could soothe her? It wasn’t fair.

  “Can we just stay like this?” she asked weakly, and I couldn’t take it. All the reasons this was wrong flew out the window.

  “Maybe if I had been able to be less… me… sometimes, I could have noticed what was happening with you. I could have stopped this.”

  She shook her head. “There was no stopping this. I’ve always liked… you… even when it was a lot.”

  My thumb brushed along her bottom lip as I let her words fade in the space between us. I was slow as I lowered my lips to hers, but she was quicker, desperate in her response. And I loved it. I loved her when she did this. When she acted like she needed me more than she did her next breath. She had always acted with a hint of desperation in the bedroom. And now I understood why.

  I pushed her to her back, trying to be gentle because of her injuries.

  Her thighs parted. The heat crackled between us. Her eyes closed, and her mouth opened just slightly, her chest rising and falling in a frantic rhythm. This was how she’d always given herself to me, full of vulnerability and with everything she had. She was perfect. I left an open-mouthed kiss on her throat, feeling her body move beneath me, pushing against me and wanting more. My hands moved of their own accord, knowing every inch as if she’d never left. As if she’d always belonged to me. I unbuttoned her blouse slowly, my deft fingers slipping the buttons free one by one. Her hands traced along my knuckles as I did so, her eyes glancing between my heated gaze and where my hands traveled, slowly inching lower and lower. Her skin was soft and warm against my hands as I pushed her shirt aside and planted a small kiss and then another, lower and lower. She writhed under me, arching her back and squirming, and it made me smile against her stomach. “Jamie,” she pled breathlessly, her neck bowed as her nails dug into my shoulders. It cracked my composure. I could try to do slow with Holland. Every chance in our shared past, I had tried.

  But it was still impossible.

  I was quick to pull down her leggings and then take her shirt off, not caring when the telltale sound of the collar ripping echoed through the room. It didn’t matter. I would be reckless so long as I could have her. Her hands traveled to her inner thighs, and she whimpered with need. I loved that sound; I’d missed it more than I ever knew.

  “Spread your legs wider,” I told her in a deep, rough voice, one I hardly recognized. It took me back to that moment in the rain and all the ones that followed. When I felt like she was mine in every way. Her eyes slowly opened, violet and shocking. They pierced through me as I unzipped my pants and pushed them down, quickly stroking my hard cock. It was the little things she did that drove me crazy. Like how she stared at my length and licked her lips. I rubbed the bead of precum over the tip of my dick and stroked myself again, wanting so badly to tell her to lick it off, but I was too desperate to be inside her. I needed her more than anything.

  Hovering over her and bracing a forearm by her head, I moved my cock between her slick heat, brushing against her opening with the head.

  “You’re just like I remember,” I whispered in a calm voice. How? I don’t know. The moment she looked back at me, intent on answering, I slammed all the way into her. I kept my eyes on her. Her mouth hung open and a silent, strangled scream accompanied the spasming of her body as she came with just that one movement.

  I wanted to keep my eyes on her, to savor every movement and worship every small touch and desperate scratch she gave me, but I couldn’t. It felt too good. I closed my eyes and groaned as I pulled out quickly and then slammed myself all the way back in, buried to the hilt and desperate for more, but afraid it would be over before I was ready.

  I didn’t give her any time to accommodate me—I couldn’t. I needed her just like this. Rough and raw and completely at my mercy. “Jamie.” She breathed my name frantically, her walls tightening even more and making each thrust bring me closer and closer to the release I was trying to delay.

  My toes curled, and I pounded into her over and over again, the cheap hotel bed knocking against the wall each time. Her heels dug into my ass as she moaned the sweetest noises, climbing higher and higher. My balls were already drawing up, ready to spill myself deep inside of her. I reached between us, pressing hard against her and pinning her down as she tried to move away from the intense pleasure.

  I didn’t let up on touching her or the steady ruthlessness of each hard stroke, filling her completely. “Jamie!” she screamed my name, her eyes wide open and staring straight at me as she came again.

  I crashed my lips against hers, silencing her and continuing my unforgiving rhythm, riding through the intensity of her orgasm. I needed more. More of her, of this, of us. I didn’t want it to end, but as she let out a strangled moan and then gently kissed the dip in my throat, I couldn’t hold back any longer. It was my undoing. She was my undoing.

  It only took a few more strokes, each one harder and faster. I slammed into her one last time, burying my head in the crook of her neck as I pulsed deep inside of her. A thin sheet of cold sweat covered my body as I lifted my head and kissed her once, then twice on the lips. Her fingers speared through my hair and pulled me in for one more. Our hot breath mingled between us, and it was all I’d ever wanted. Everything I’d dreamed of since the moment I discovered her gone. As our breathing calmed, she nestled into the crook of my arm, and all it did was make me want more of her.

  I’d counted the hours without her in my bed, where she should have been with me all along. I kissed her hair, trying to remind myself of all the obstacles we faced.

  It didn’t matter.

  All I knew was that the one good thing I’d ever had in my life was in my arms right now.

  The room was silent, nothing but the sound of our feverish breathing echoing through its depths. She pulled away from me and opened her mouth to say something, but before the words could come out and ruin everything, I melded my body even closer to hers. I kissed her hard, forcefully. She swallowed her apologies, or whatever she had been about to say, and kissed me right back, pouring all of her fears and doubts into one kiss, pouring a lifetime of regrets and hopes and fears and dreams into this moment between us.

  Holly

  Now

  I stood in the shower. The water hurt my rear end, but otherwise, I felt pretty fantastic. I’d never thought I’d get to go to bed with Jamie again, let alone have that happen. It had been the same, and yet… different. Why? Well, because this time, he’d actually been with me. The real me.

  He’d gone out to get us food. I let the water drip down my back, rinsing the shampoo off me and stepped out of the shower. This was whatever brand he’d picked up here. The scent wasn’t Jamie, per se. Still, I wanted to roll around in it, and I’d never been so grateful to have anything on me as I was that aroma.

  I wrapped myself in a towel and opened the bathroom door. With a thud, Steven strode into Jamie’s hotel room.

  We stared at each other for a long moment.

  He opened and closed his mouth. I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt so vulnerable before. Not even when Charlie had me naked from the waist down, examining my ass.

  I’d known I would have to speak to Steven again, but I hadn’t expected it to be like this… wet and in a towel.

  But then again, nothing from today was going the way it was supposed to. Not that I had any idea how anything today was supposed to go at all. How could I ever have anticipated this?

  Or maybe the better question was how, had I not?

  Also, they had keys to each other’s rooms. Charlie had come and gone as he’d liked, and now Steven was.

  Another sign of this relationship they’d all developed. How had it even happened, anyway? What had Graham said to bring them altogether?

  We stood there like that, me thinking a million quest
ions a minute, and Steven staring at me like I’d grown two heads.

  “What happened to you?”

  I touched the side of my eye. Now that I could see out of it, I wasn’t thinking about it quite so much. “I took a beating.”

  “Is it over then?” He tilted his head. “Things worked out with your uncle? I want my fucking ring back.”

  Who could blame him? He’d earned that, and I’d stolen it from him. “I’m afraid not. I have to do a job I’m likely to fail at. And you’re never getting that ring back.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “So what happens when you fail? He blackens the other one?”

  I sighed. “Sure. Yes, that’s exactly what’ll happen. He’ll blacken the other eye.”

  I didn’t want sympathy from any of them. I had to fix this. For all of them. And if Steven wanted to hate me, and it was clear that he did, then he was entitled to it.

  Chapter 12

  Steven

  Now

  I was being a piece of shit. I squared my shoulders and forced myself not to take her in my arms. This was a fucking problem. Here was blonde-haired Holly. Not my version of her. My Holly had been fiction, and I couldn’t deal with that.

  And yet, I wanted to wrap my arms around her. She was warm in that towel. Beautiful. Inviting. Someone had beaten the shit out of her. No, not someone. Her uncle. The same son of a bitch who had sent her to begin with and taken my Super Bowl ring. I’d had enough black eyes in my life to know how much that hurt. Hell, I’d given Graham one not too long ago.

  She was right there in front of me, and yet, she was a million miles away. Too much of a distance to cross. I could see her, but I couldn’t touch her, which was why I was being a total douche bag.

  “I’m missing my toilet seat.” That was why I’d come in here to begin with. When I’d said something in front of Charles, he’d told me where I could find it. No explanation other than that, not telling me that Holly was here.

  She indicated toward the bed where the toilet seat, semi-wrapped in a towel, was on the floor. “It’s there.”

  “Why did Charles take it? Did you… I mean…” Truly, I had no idea why she had the thing, or why Charles had done this.

  She pointed to her ass. “I got struck there. He was trying to help me and did. I’m not sure why he took yours and not his own, or this one.”

  “To fuck with me. Charles has got a wicked sense of humor. He is pretty consistently messing with all of us.”

  She blinked rapidly. I’d taken her by surprise. Oh, I saw what was happening here. She’d known the good, upstanding, serious doctor who had dropped to his knees and worshiped her. Like we all had. She wasn’t used to the person he’d become. Of course, Charles fucked with us. Graham and I were essentially her exes to him, and Jamie was the guy she’d replaced him with.

  There were reasons it wasn’t a smart idea to have alpha males meet their loves’ former and future partners. It fucked with our heads.

  I walked over to the window. “I’m not an idiot.”

  She cleared her throat. “I never thought you were. Very bright, actually. Would you give me a chance to change my clothes?”

  I had my back to her, and I was wearing my asshole coat pretty well right then. “You naked is something I’ve seen plenty of times before. Don’t get modest now, Holland.”

  Yep. I used the name Graham and Jamie did to put some separation between us. I needed the space.

  “All right, Steven.”

  All right? What did she mean? I turned around in time to see her dropping her towel. There she stood. Totally and completely naked. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Holly was stunningly beautiful. Nothing about her had changed. If anything, she was even more so. Turning, she headed toward the bed where she retrieved her discarded clothes.

  I stared at her, open-mouthed. She was slightly skinnier than when she’d been with me. Leaner, like she’d lost muscle mass. And her ass was so red, it broke my heart.

  I had to find my voice. “How did they do that to you?”

  Her eyes flared when she glanced at me. “I got beat up. With a cane. I said that.”

  She slipped into her underwear, wincing when she did it.

  That was when I realized what I’d not been paying attention to this whole time. The room smelled like sex. Her clothes were on the floor. The bed was beyond disheveled, and Holly had just been in the shower.

  Fuck. Jamie and Holly had sex. They’d probably just been at it. If I’d walked in ten minutes earlier… No, I wasn’t going there in my head. Nope. Didn’t need that image. Not at all.

  Jamie had sex with Holly? What was going on here? How had he…? I mean, I knew how he had, but what was going on here? He’d been as screwed over as the rest of us.

  I walked over to the side of the bed, scooped up the toilet seat, and ran from the room like I had three defensive ends and an outside linebacker after me all at once.

  By the time I made it to my room, I was panting like I’d run for hours, and I wasn’t that out of shape.

  I leaned against the door, still holding the fucking toilet seat in my hand.

  I wasn’t jealous. I hated her. I wasn’t jealous. I hated her. I wasn’t jealous. I hated her.

  Maybe if I said it enough, I’d believe it. Truth was, I wanted to pound Jamie’s head into the ground over and over again. And I liked the dude. A lot. We’d pretty much become buddies these last months.

  So what the fuck? I leaned against the wall, breathing hard. That was my girl in there. Whatever the color of her hair and whatever she’d done. She was mine. I’d seen our future together. It had been real—right there in front of me—and that couldn’t be completely false. Could it?

  Yes, it could. She was a con-artist. She’d shot two men dead in front of me. She’d… saved our lives. Taken a beating. Probably had endless secrets I’d never be able to wade through.

  I pounded the wall hard enough, I left a dent. Fuck. My hand was going to hurt. Right now, I couldn’t feel any pain. Just the anger riding me. That was my girl. Mine. I flared my nostrils, trying to take in more air.

  This wasn’t me. I didn’t lose my shit like this. I was the man who stood there, unflinching, and handled whatever came at me. Okay, once I’d gone too far with the pills and the booze. I’d pulled back from that. I watched myself.

  What the hell was going on?

  It was impossible not to think of how she’d been there for me when I was injured. Not as a PT but as my girlfriend, who had sat with me through recovery, eaten soup when I was nauseous, and watched endless hours of Netflix. Holly had made me think there was a future to look forward to when football was over.

  And then she took it away. Fuck. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to keep going with this? A stranger wore her body. But when she gazed at me, I swore there was something, someone there who had loved me.

  Her uncle had beat her up. I wanted to kill him, strangle him with my bare hands.

  She was sleeping with Jamie. Why? Because he’d painted her naked? Was she into that kind of thing? Public displays? We’d been so careful.

  Probably so she wouldn’t get caught.

  The door opened slowly, and Graham walked in.

  He stared at me for a second before his gaze drifted to the toilet seat on the floor. “Everything okay? Came to see if you wanted some dinner.”

  I stared at him. There was a good way to make this go away, to send Holly on so that I never had to deal with this shit again. I just had to tell Graham. He was ready to see to it that she never came near any of us again. Take on her uncle. Bring them all down. I had resources, but not Washington D.C. abilities. I couldn’t bring anyone down, unless they worked in the NFL or reported on sports. Even then, I wouldn’t do that.

  I leaned back. “Not hungry.”

  “What’s with the toilet seat?”

  I stared at the floor. “It broke.”

  I wasn’t going to do it. Fuck her for choosing Jamie. I didn’t know if I wanted her back. I pro
bably didn’t. But if I changed my mind, so help me, I was winning.

  I rose. “Okay. Let’s go eat.”

  The farther I got Graham from Holly, the better.

  Chapter 13

  Holly

  Past

  “I found a buyer,” my uncle announced, making me jump as he spoke from the kitchen table. The room had been dark when I had passed by earlier, and I didn’t know that he was up or even around. I was tired, as usual, and it took me a second to understand what he meant.

  “Buyer?” I asked. And then it hit me. He had told me it was going to happen. I had just thought that I had more time.

  “Two weeks from now, you’ll be headed off to England. You’ll spend the weekend with your purchaser and then return here,” he told me calmly.

  I was having trouble breathing. I still couldn’t comprehend a world that consisted of buying and selling people’s virginity. I stared at the monster sitting at the table in front of me. How does one get to the point where they no longer have a soul? What had happened in his life to get rid of it? Gran hadn’t been bad. Sure, she had her faults, but I hadn’t seen the signs or signals that she would’ve had a hand in creating someone like him. After all, my dad had been the kindest, most loving man that I’d ever met. How could they be related?

  I knew I shouldn’t beg. But I couldn’t help myself. “I’ll do anything else you ask me, anything. I’ll be able to get the item from Brandon this week. Just please, don’t do this,” I begged him as frustrated tears built up in my eyes.

  It was like I hadn’t spoken. He stood up from the table, brushing some crumbs onto a napkin from whatever treat he had been devouring this morning. “Two weeks,” he said before he brushed past me through the entryway to leave the room. He stopped right as he passed me by and looked back at me. “Oh and, Holland… don’t do anything stupid.”

  He shouldn’t have said that last part, because now all I wanted to do was something stupid. How far would I get if I tried to run away? Probably not far, but at least I could delay the inevitable. Honestly, another stint in the basement I could handle, if it meant that this wouldn’t happen to me so soon. Heck, maybe I would die down there, and I wouldn’t have to worry about it at all.