Everything

by Erin Noelle

  “It sounds excellent. When do you move in?” Liam asked, as we turned down a street that looked vaguely familiar to me.

  “Umm… next weekend,” I replied distractedly, staring out the window with growing trepidation, praying we weren’t going where I feared. “Where did you say we were headed again?”

  Something that felt a lot like dread curdled in my gut in the seconds I waited for him to answer. Please don’t say Empty’s. Please don’t say Empty’s. Please don’t say—

  “Empty’s Pub,” he responded with a bright smile, completely unaware of the havoc his words triggered inside me. Oh shit.

  My heart stuttered then pounded out of control, while the air in my lungs staled when I forgot to exhale. The delicious food I’d eaten for dinner threatened to make a second appearance as my stomach revolted with foreboding. And although I tried my best not to let on I was suffering from a full-fledged panic attack, my face must’ve flinched or reacted in some way after that, because he softly patted my hand and added, “Don’t worry, I trust my mate’s recommendation. It won’t be anything like that last place we just left.”

  Suddenly, all I wanted was to turn the car around and return to the place we’d just left. Bring on the pink frou-frou drinks, scantily dressed gold diggers, and stuck-up suits. As long as we didn’t go to the one place I knew Everett could possibly be…

  The parking lot was pretty full when we pulled in, but nowhere close to how packed it’d been on New Year’s Eve. Liam turned off the engine then hurried around to open my door as he’d done all night. Without being too obvious, I scanned the surrounding vehicles while we walked in the direction of the warehouse-style building, searching for a certain light blue vintage truck, even though I knew it would probably be parked in the back like before.

  Music filtered out as the main door opened and closed, and when the twangy notes of a popular country song filled my ears, hope blossomed inside me. Oh please, dear baby Jesus, don’t let him be here. The outdoor stage where I’d first spotted Everett was dark and deserted, but several people sat out at the patio area, braving the chilly night air to smoke a cigarette.

  I continued to pray with every step I took, and when Liam yanked open the heavy door and my gaze landed on the guy on stage with blond hair and a full band behind him, I blew out a tattered breath and unclenched the fists I hadn’t even realized I’d made.

  “What were you expecting? Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” Liam chuckled as we entered the bar, apparently noticing the overwhelming relief that coursed through me.

  I smiled up at him, playing it off. “More like Texas honky-tonk.”

  “No.” He laughed harder, steering me through the maze of bodies and tables with his hand at the small of my back. I recoiled slightly at the contact then hoped he didn’t notice. “There’s supposed to be all kinds of music here, everything from blues to rock to country. But rest assured, this is no honky-tonk. I got tricked into going to one once before, and it was definitely not my cup of tea.”

  Much like out in the parking lot, I was busy skimming my surroundings as we moved through the bar, this time hunting for a pair of familiar dark and haunting brown eyes. After the first sweep of the room came up empty, I did it a second time, and then a third before finally feeling confident he wasn’t there. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  Liam guided to me an open pool table against the wall, and within minutes, we had a bucket of beer and were going toe-to-toe in a game of 8-ball. A different performer took the stage after the first guy, putting me on alert again, but when I asked the cocktail waitress if she knew who all was on the line-up for the night, my fingers crossed behind my back, she smiled and told me it was open mic, so anyone who wanted to could jump up there and belt one out. Another bullet dodged.

  Laughing and talking like old friends, a comfortable, laidback vibe developed between Liam and me as we shared stories about where we grew up and different places we’d traveled. A few times he casually brushed up against me while we played, and once, when he pushed back a strand of my hair from my eyes that had escaped my messy bun, I was afraid he was going to kiss me, but thankfully, he didn’t. I tried my hardest not to come off as flirtatious or interested in anything sexual, hoping he got the hint. As much as I liked Liam as a person, there was absolutely zero chemistry on my side of the equation. This would be our first and last date, though I’d still hang out with him strictly as friends.

  “Okay, this is the rubber match,” he announced, as he racked the balls for the third game. “Loser has to get on stage and sing something before we leave.”

  He’d won the first match handily, as my skills were a bit rusty, but the second was much closer and I ended up victorious after a lucky bank shot of the 8-ball in the corner pocket. Now, my competitive juices were flowing, and though I really didn’t want to get up and sing in front of a bunch of strangers, I was confident I could beat him. But first, something else needed to flow, thanks to the three beers I’d drank.

  “Deal, but first I need to run to the ladies’ room,” I agreed with a grin. “You can think about what song you’re gonna sing while I’m gone.”

  He threw his head back as he barked out a laugh then chalked up his stick in dramatic fashion, like he was preparing for the game of his life. “Think again, lass. I won’t go easy on you this time.”

  With a cheeky smirk, I scuttled off toward the marked hallway in the back corner of the room where the restrooms were hidden away. After quickly doing my business in the otherwise empty bathroom, I washed my hands and assessed myself in the mirror, pleasantly surprised with the reflection staring back at me.

  I’d worked hard to make my hair look like I hadn’t worked hard on it, the long brown tresses piled high on my head in an unruly twist. The light makeup I’d applied earlier was all but worn off, but my eyes sparkled from the adrenaline of playing pool, and the small amount of alcohol pumping through my blood tinted my cheeks a soft pink. The red-and-black striped tunic hung just enough off my shoulder to be suggestive without being slutty, and the solid black leggings under it were so soft I jokingly referred to them as my “butterpants.”

  Smiling big, I leaned forward and checked my teeth in the mirror, ensuring I hadn’t been embarrassing myself over the last two hours with a big chunk of steak or a chive stuck up in there. Fortunately, I was in the clear, not that it really mattered though. I had no plans of kissing anyone that night.

  Ready to head back out to run the table on Liam, I tossed my paper towel in the trash then flung open the door.

  Only to smash face-first into a hard wall of muscular chest. And a scent I knew all too well.

  I SAW HER the minute she walked in. I’d been chilling with my dad and my uncle in the office at the back of Empty’s, when I’d headed to the bar to get a bottle of water. Not three steps out into the main area, I just happened to peer over at the entrance as the door swung open, and there she was. Like I’d dreamed her up and she’d magically appeared. My Belle. Beautiful as fucking ever.

  Naturally, I initially thought she’d come to see me. My plan of driving her crazy with desire had worked and she was tired of fighting her feelings. Finally. A huge grin crept across my face as I went to move toward her, but then… then the dream took a sharp right turn, transforming into my worst nightmare right before my eyes. She was with someone else. And not just any someone else. Fucking Mr. Carroll.

  Every hair on my arms stood at attention and blood roared through my ears, drowning out all the other sounds around me, as I watched her stroll inside with him, his hand possessively planted on her lower back. Her eyes scanned the room anxiously, like she was looking for someone, but whether it was to find them or hide from them, I wasn’t sure. I could only assume that someone was me.

  Blinded by rage, on first instinct, I wanted nothing more than to march over to them and demand she explain to me why in the hell she’d brought him to my fucking bar. Was she trying to slay me?

  But at that exact moment, some kind of di
vine intervention got involved and the office door opened, followed immediately by my dad calling out, “Hey, Everett, can you come help me move some boxes from the outside storage shed in here? After that, we can go if you want.”

  I stole one more glance over at the happy couple setting up at a pool table against the far wall, and then turned to face him and grumbled, “Yeah, sure. Let’s get this shit over with.”

  There was no doubt Dad picked up on my sudden mood change from just a few minutes prior, when I’d been horsing around with him and Uncle Marco, laughing and carrying on without a care in the world. But he didn’t mention it or reprimand my language while we hauled the boxes of napkins, straws, and whatever other shit he pointed at from the shed to the supply closet that separated the men and women’s bathrooms. My hands shook the entire time as the image of the two of them together burned into my brain.

  When there was only one trip left, I told him I’d finish it and lock up then meet him back in the office in a little bit. Being the cool-ass dad he was and realizing I needed to blow off some steam, he threw the keys at me and smiled. “Whenever you’re ready, man, just come find me. Your mom’s gonna be out late, so I’ve got nothing better to do than to hang out here.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I tipped my head at him. “I won’t be long.”

  Stacking the three cardboard boxes on top of each other, I carried them through the back entrance, and as I turned the corner to the small hallway where the closet was, I saw the back of Belle just as she went inside the women’s restroom. I hissed in a sharp breath as my heart leapt wildly against my ribcage. I was pissed the fuck off, but I still wanted her more than anything.

  An internal war waged within me as I put the final boxes away and locked up the closet. Should I just walk away, pretend I never saw her, and get the fuck out of here with my dignity intact? Or do I wait for her to come out and confront her? Ask her why she’d be so cruel to bring him here, flaunting them in front of me? The longer I lingered, the angrier I got. Angrier and… aroused?

  The emotions were too much, too strong. I couldn’t help myself. I had to show her the mistake she was making. Remind her of what she was passing up on.

  I prowled over to the women’s bathroom, so lost in the storm brewing inside me that I didn’t even care if anyone else was inside. The door flung open just as I stepped up, and the next thing I knew, Belle crashed into me, face-first into my chest.

  “Umph,” she grunted, startled at the unexpected contact.

  Instinctively, my hands flew to her shoulders to steady her. Big, brown doe eyes slowly lifted to meet mine, and when our gazes locked on each other, hers flashed with shock and something that looked a lot like guilt.

  “Wh-what are you doing here?” she stammered, slowly backing away from me.

  Undeterred, I followed her into the small room. She wasn’t going to get out of this that easy.

  “My family owns the place. I thought we established that last time you were here.” I smirked when her back hit the sink and she realized all she’d done was trap herself in here with me. “I think the question is what are you doing here?” My face fell as I clenched my molars together and ground out, “And why the fuck is he with you?”

  Closing the distance between us in two calculating strides, my arms shot up to the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. Her lips parted on a quick inhale, drawing my attention to her full, pouty mouth. My dick stirred to life as the desire to kiss her until she couldn’t remember the name of another fucking guy on the planet stormed through me.

  “I-uh, I didn’t know where he was taking me until we were here,” she defended, wetting her lips under my heated gaze. “An-and I couldn’t refuse to come inside without raising suspicions.”

  I leaned down to her level then skimmed the tip of my nose along her jawline, inhaling her intoxicating scent. “But you are out with him? Like together, on a date?”

  With a soft moan, her head lolled to the side, granting me access to the smooth, creamy skin of her neck. “Not together,” she rasped, her eyelids fluttering closed. “Friends… we’re just friends. I promise.”

  Her words immediately erased most of the anger jetting through my veins. I still wasn’t happy she was out with him, because I knew damned well Mr. Carroll wasn’t interested in being “just friends.” But that was his fucking problem.

  “And us?” I asked, as my mouth grazed from her throat to her hairline. “Are we just friends too, beautiful Belle?”

  “We’re not friends,” she hissed when I caught her earlobe between my teeth and flicked my tongue over it. “And we shouldn’t… we can’t do this again. I’m your teacher.”

  She made no attempt to open her eyes or to move away despite her claim, and I had no intention of stopping until she explicitly told me to. As she fought her own inner battle of right versus wrong, mind against body, I planned on showing her every reason we absolutely should and could do it again. And again and again.

  “Indeed you are, Ms. Sloan,” I murmured against her delicate flesh, ghosting kisses from her ear to her barely-parted lips. “But right now, I think it’s time you learn a little lesson of your own.”

  My mouth slammed down on hers, swallowing whatever her response was going to be. The lesson I had in mind involved a lot of doing, and not much talking. The question and answer portion came after the hands-on demonstration.

  I swept my tongue across her lips, and she opened up for me without any resistance. My dick throbbed and twitched against my zipper as her hands fisted my shirt and tugged me closer. Our tongues melted together, the intensity of the kiss building deeper and deeper until I had to break free.

  “Everett,” she breathed, reaching for me as I drew back. God, the sound of my name on her lips, full of desperate need, was like a direct hit of lightning between my legs. Instantly, I was rock-fucking-hard.

  Belle Sloan awakened the untamed, possessive animal that lurked inside me. One I never knew existed before her. And there was no way of putting him back in his cage now.

  “Turn around and look at the mirror, Ms. Sloan,” I commanded in a soft but stern voice.

  Uncertainty washed over her face. “What? Why?”

  My nostrils flared as I pinned her with my hungry gaze. “I want you to see how I can unravel you with just my touch. I want to show you how responsive you are when I play your body like my favorite guitar, composing the sexiest fucking song you’ve ever heard.” I stepped closer, grasping the nape of her neck with one hand and tilting her head back to peer up at me. Lust pooled in her glassy brown gaze. “And I want you to watch as I make you come all over my fingers, knowing at any moment someone could walk in here and catch us. Including the friend you came here with.”

  Her chest heaved with uneven breaths as I held her stare with my own. A knife wouldn’t have been able to cut through the sexual tension between us. My control was slipping rapidly, and I couldn’t ever remember craving something so much in my life. She was my ultimate weakness. And I had no idea why.

  Without another word, she turned to face the mirror and her eyes immediately found mine through our reflection. Surrendering to the inevitable. The fight was over… at least for now.

  Stepping forward, I pressed my front against her back, my erection nuzzled against the curve of her ass. Pure instinct fueled both my actions and my words, and I didn’t second-guess what felt natural with her.

  “Can’t stop thinking ‘bout the way you taste,” I growled, just before sinking my teeth into the exposed skin of her shoulder.

  Throwing her head back against my chest, she screwed her eyes shut as goose bumps covered her arms. I loved witnessing how much that single action affected her, but I wanted to see her face. I needed her to see it for herself.

  “I told you to watch,” I warned, triggering her to immediately snap her gaze back to the mirror.

  I grinned triumphantly then bit her shoulder again, but this time, I quickly followed it with an open-mouthed kiss to soothe the stin
g. Then, I did it again and again, migrating toward her neck. Bite… kiss… bite… kiss. My fingertips dug into her hipbones as I struggled to keep her still while her taut body squirmed with anticipation.

  Lightly grazing my teeth over the shell of her ear, I slid one hand under her sweater and across her belly, and then my fingers dipped beneath the waistband of the thin pants she wore, dropping between her legs. When I cupped her pussy and discovered her panties soaked through, a guttural groan rumbled in the back of my throat and I flexed my hips, thrusting my cock against the cleft of her ass.

  “So fucking wet for me, Belle,” I whispered, holding our stare in the mirror as I lightly rubbed back and forth over the soaked lace. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but your body shows the truth. Shows how much I affect you… how you want me just as much as I want you.”

  She nodded, her lids growing heavy with desire. “But I’m not supposed to…”

  Her words trailed off when I edged the thin material of her panties to the side and glided a finger between her slick lips and into her hot, dripping slit. I groaned; my dick was like a steel hammer threatening to bust through my jeans at any moment. I wanted nothing more than to bury myself inside of her, but now wasn’t the time for that.

  “Not supposed to what, Ms. Sloan?” I asked, as I added another finger to the mix. Waiting a few seconds to let her adjust to the fullness, I began to slowly slide them in and out of her tight little pussy. “Is this what we’re not supposed to do? Do you want me to stop?”