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Disorderly

Page 19

by Grace, Hazel


  “You going to kick me out again?” Wyatt asks, leaning his tall frame against my island. I clutch on to my strength, not wanting to go back to the weak state of mine I was in last week, when I legit slammed the door behind him when he walked out. Afraid I’d call for him to come back. I deleted his number right after to keep from texting or calling and dodged the road that led down to his garage. I was proud of myself for keeping myself on the path of normal.

  “Wyatt,” I begin, staring at my living room. I know if I look at him in all his tattooed splendor that my heart will start chipping away at the ice I froze around it. “You can’t stay here.”

  “You haven’t had Noah here so that shouldn’t be the reason,” he delivers.

  My head snaps to him. “How would you know that?”

  So, here is where the red alarm goes off in my head. I’m obviously not a good judge of character, and I may have underestimated Wyatt in a huge way. Like a huge stalker, didn’t take rejection well, kind of way. I start to inch away from him as casually as I can but, let’s be honest, how can you be casual about it? All I can think of is getting the hell out of this apartment.

  Wyatt inches closer, and I flinch in response. He’s too big, way larger than Jerry, and I know I can’t fight or run him off.

  “You’re scared of me now?” he reveals, furrowing his brows.

  I shake my head. “No, no. I’m just surprised.”

  “You’re shaking, Rora,” he challenges. I compel myself to calm the fuck down. but I can’t, I’ve welcomed another man into my life that may hurt me more than Jerry did. One that is bigger, dangerous, and can bury a body in this barren ass shit town.

  “I—I’m just cold,” I utter, reaching the end of the island. It’s now or never, life or death, freedom or imprisoned. I’m just praying, to whomever will hear me, that his drunk state will give me an advantage.

  I whip around and start for the door, extending the stride in my legs to gain some ground from his long legs. My focus is on the doorknob, the gold item that holds my opening to my liberation out of here.

  “Baby,” Wyatt barks, as my hand lands on the knob. His body slams against my back, pressing my cheek into the wall. My full lungs blow out the rest of my air at his impact while his rough hand covers mine on the knob.

  “Please let me go,” I croak, my body trembling between us.

  Wyatt’s hand brushes my cheek softly. “Turn around.” I don’t want to, I want to stay right where I am, close to this wall that holds some sort of protection. “Baby, please.”

  “I just want to go…outside. I need some air.” Wyatt’s hand placed around my waist slowly turns me around.

  “You think I’m going to hurt you?” he asks, his voice laced with what sounds to be hurt and disappointment. I meet his chest, but I can’t look up at him. My focus is just to be away from him, this fucking apartment of hell, and to have my space back.

  His finger finds the bottom of my jaw, and he lifts it up to face him. His mouth is set in a hard line, his brows mended together. “I’d never fucking lay a hand on you. I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to do. I know about Noah because I want to protect you. I have a man outside your apartment every night to make sure that fucker Jerry doesn’t come back here. And if that’s freaking…well…that’s too fucking bad because it’s the only way I know to keep you protected.”

  “You have someone outside my apartment?” I repeat. Shock isn’t the word for it, it’s uncertainty and confusion.

  “Yeah,” he responds. “I get why you don’t want to see or hear from me. You’re not a stupid woman, but I can’t seem to stay away from you. So maybe you are smart to stay away.”

  “I have been,” I bit out. “I need normal. I need stability. You’re none of those things.”

  “Normal is boring,” Wyatt grits out. “I’m going to be what you need.”

  I place a hand on his chest. “I need you out of my apartment.”

  Wyatt puffs a breath from his chest. “How much more space do you need, Rora? A month? A year?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. You’ll be the first to know.”

  “I gave you enough space. Now it’s my turn.”

  “You don’t get to decide. This is my life, no one will force me to do anything ever again.”

  “Then kiss me goodbye and let’s be done with this shit then.”

  “You’re border lining psycho right now.”

  “It’s your doing, baby,” he retorts.

  “Stop trying to blame this shit on me.”

  “Then do it, and I’ll walk the fuck out of here. I’ll never bust in your apartment again, I’ll keep my guys away from here. I won’t call or text you. Shit, you’ll never hear my name again.”

  I tsk. “This is stupid.”

  “Maybe, but you get something out of it, and I get something to remember you by.”

  “Geezus,” I hiss.

  “One kiss.”

  I push against his chest again. “You need to go.”

  Wyatt inches closer to me, his body pressed up against mine, sending fire through my skin. “Thought you had balls.”

  “Taunting isn’t going to work.”

  “Just laying down simple facts.”

  “And what do I have to prove to you?” I ask with a mirthless laugh.

  “That you can let me go.”

  “I can.”

  “Prove it.”

  “Fine. One kiss, no tongue.”

  “Just a little—”

  “No tongue.”

  “Fine.”

  I motion him with my hand to lower his head. “Hurry the hell up.”

  “God, I love when you’re bossy.”

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  He quirks a brow. “Alright.” My sweatpants suddenly come down to my knees, and Wyatt is on his haunches before I can utter one word. His mouth is on my panties, using his lips to tease the fabric into my clit, and I lean back against the wall, caught off by the sensation running through my body. His rough fingers lace between my skin and the fabric between us and yanks them to the side. A low groan rolls from his lips as he uses them to caress my pussy. With no tongue.

  Just kill me right now.

  His lower lip grinds against my clit, and I moan involuntarily to his touch. My knees start to go limp, my back sliding slowly along the wall. Wyatt’s hand grips my upper thigh and places it over his shoulder, opening me wider to his need.

  This wasn’t my idea of a goodbye kiss, so far from it. It was like he was impelling himself back onto me again, letting it seep through my skin and into my veins. Too bad his lips felt so good that I wouldn’t stop him even if I wanted to because I could already feel the buildup inside me.

  “You fucking taste perfect, baby,” Wyatt mumbles alongside my skin. “I’ve been wanting this for so long, it was starting to haunt me in my sleep.”

  “God, stop lying,” I utter through panting breaths. I believe him for wanting it but dreaming about it? Get the hell out of here.

  “Wanna test the theory,” he challenges. “Let me use my tongue and I’ll show you that I’ve dreamt about this.” His mouth presses more firmly along me, and I groan. “That a yes, baby?”

  “Yes,” I urge, meshing my fingers through his hair. When his tongue strokes my clit, I feel my world spin, erecting up an orgasm that is going to split me in two. And as much as I want to come on his tongue and all over his beard, I crave him. His proximity against me, his eyes locking on to mine in a moment that is only ours.

  I’m fucked. So beyond drained from fighting this man, and it’s way past pride at this point. He succeeded in becoming part of me, no matter how much he pisses me off, he’s embedded something in me that can’t break free. Something vital in me that makes me feel as though I can function properly, like air or water. Wyatt is like an element of this Earth that I need to fucking be able to exist.

  “Wyatt,” I huff, caressing his hair.

  “Hm?”

  �
�I don’t want to come this way.” His hand comes up to my thigh seated on his shoulder, and he squeezes lightly, added with stroking my skin with his fingers.

  “What do you want, Rora?” I swallow, knowing that I’m surrendering my anger. The only key I have to keep him at bay. And I’m about to throw it to the damn wind without abandon.

  “I want you to bury yourself in me while I watch your eyes glaze over when you come.” Wyatt shudders under me and a new idea issues itself to me. One of seduction to gain what I want. This may be fun after all.

  “Are you teasing me?” he nibs on my clit to make a point that if I am we might be here for a while for him to torture me.

  “No,” I reply. “I’m challenging you. Again.”

  She won. I’m completely obsessed with this woman and the words that stumble from her mouth. Rora is sweet, unique, and fucking raw. Her demeanor is so far beyond anything I’ve ever encountered, and I’m head over heels into this chick. These last few days have been more torment next to my sister’s death, but in a different context. I craved her, more than ever, and I couldn’t be with her.

  Now I’m kneeling in front of this beautiful goddess with her pussy in my mouth, telling me to go balls deep in her.

  Fuck. Me.

  Standing up, I shove her against the wall, leaving no inches between us. “Strip for me,” I whisper in her ear. Her slate blue eyes lock on me as she peels off the crop shirt she’s wearing. And damn, we got to skip a step because she isn’t wearing a bra, and I’m ready to start pumping into this beauty right now.

  Following her previous action, I peel my shirt off, letting her eyes survey my tattoos, something I know she’s been curious about but dares not to ask. Rora kicks off her sweatpants, flashing a smirk in my direction. When she straightens, I can’t help the impulse inside me. I crash my lips to hers, letting her taste herself and me mixed together.

  Just how it should be, how I want it to be.

  She breaks from me, to tug her panties down, and, instead of coming back up to fuck my lips with hers, she saunters toward her bedroom. Letting me get the best view of her ass and how it jiggles slightly with each step she takes. My dick stresses against my boxers and stalk behind her, far enough to embed the memory of her backside walking away from me.

  Entering her bedroom, I realize I’ve never been in here before. Well, I have for a second until she banged the door in my face. It’s plain white, with lavender sheets and pillow cases, the only color that seems to be in the room. It’s as though she plans on not being here long or that she’s not investing too much time here because if she has to take off, she’ll have her money saved and shit packed quick. Her closet doesn’t have much clothes in it, and there is a long brown dresser along the wall, across from her bed. The lack of things makes me want to buy her everything she needs. To take the fear out of holding back essentials and wants for her because of that motherfucker Jerry.

  “What’s wrong?” Rora asks, sitting on the side of her bed. I realize I’m standing in the middle of her room, observing everything like I’m the damn cops investigating a possible crime scene.

  “Nothing,” I quickly reply, walking over to her. She pushes herself back on her bed, allowing me room.

  “Come here,” she instructs, patting the side of the bed. If I could take a photo of her like that, I would. Sounds stupid as hell, pussy whipped as shit and like I’ve lost both my balls, but I’d take all those if it meant I received access to Rora’s bedroom every night.

  “I’ve never fucked in a bed before,” I confess, not sure why I need to make it a point. Maybe it’s to tell her she’s special, that she’s unlike Mia or any of the women I’ve screwed in the past.

  “I’ll keep it a secret,” she vows with a smirk. Hitting the bed, I use my knee to crawl onto it, keeping her always in my gaze.

  “Please do, I have a reputation to uphold.” She rolls her eyes and lays back, letting me cover her body with mine.

  “We have a problem,” she whispers.

  I lean in to smell her hair, inhaling the sweet smell of honey and some type of flower. “Do we?”

  “Yeah,” she sighs. “Your pants are still on.” I burst into laughter, kissing her neck, I start at the button of my jeans.

  “Yeah, I guess that is a huge problem.” Yanking on my zipper, I pull back from her to get them off.

  She places both her hands behind her head, ogling me. “A girl could get used to this sight.”

  I grin. “Feelings mutual, baby.” Getting rid of my pants, I lose myself in this woman, hearing her moans, feeling her nails mark my back—I think I may have found home.

  For once in my life.

  ___

  The sunlight of the early morning gleams through Rora’s cheap blinds as I tuck my head in her back. She’s sound asleep in my arms, her breaths soft and peaceful. We stayed up talking, yes I said talking, about her bakery and how she found all her inspiration on Pinterest and the Food Network. I don’t know which one of us fell asleep first, but I’m guessing it was me.

  Turning over from my side, I search the floor for my jeans to grab my phone. As quietly as I can, I roll over and reach for them, pulling out my phone. Clicking on the phone, I peer down at several missed text messages.

  Lev: Need to meet. We found some shit.

  Where are you at man?

  Hey, you alright?

  I’m ten minutes away from sending a search party out for you.

  Dude, c’mon!

  Motherfucker, I’m going to kill you. Flynn said you’re at some broad’s house fucking. Text me when your dick is dry.

  Asshole.

  Me: Sorry man, fell asleep. I’ll be at the garage in fifteen.

  Peering over my shoulder, Rora is still sleeping, and I feel like a dick just getting up and leaving but business calls. Shooting her a quick text, I promise to make it up to her, hoping that she doesn’t think I’m blowing her off again.

  And like the fucking creep I’ve become, I snap a picture of her sleeping like an angel.

  ___

  “And welcome home, dickhead,” Lev greets me as I walk into his loft. He’s lounged on his couch with a beer in his hand while Beast paces the floor. Flynn is perched up on one of the arm rest of the leather chairs in front of the desk and I give him a nod. He returns it, and I know we’re good.

  Flynn and I have an agreement that Rora stays under the radar and that she exists to no one. I don’t feel bad about it, Lev has enough going on, I don’t need him in my shit on top of it, thinking I’m slacking on the task at hand with pussy.

  “Lay off,” I voice, taking the chair next to Flynn. “What do you got?”

  “Remember that picture I showed you?” Beast asks. I nod. “Well, Lev doesn’t know what she looks like either, like you said.”

  “But I do,” Flynn chimes in.

  My focus draws to him. “You do?”

  Flynn nods. “When I drove by her house to check her mail, a few days ago, I got a look at her. She fits the profile perfectly.”

  “You’re sure?” I respond, feeling my hopes build. Flynn nods.

  “This means we’re ready to put our plan in action,” Lev beams. Turning toward him again, I start to sway from the plan. It’s going to be dangerous and extremely fucking bad if Lydia doesn’t go along with what we want.

  The idea being to murder Lydia in turn for Isla’s life.

  Who the fuck knows what backlash we’ll receive if we succeed in that, and I’m ready to be done with all this.

  “There’s more,” Beast adds, walking behind his desk and typing something into his keyboard. “This Victoria has two addresses. We think it’s the boyfriend’s. Flynn said he saw a man twice come in and out of her apartment with a key.”

  “Okay,” I reply. “We’ll hit both places.” Lev’s face glows with excitement. “When we come up with a solid, bullet-proof plan.” My brother frowns.

  “Wyatt’s right, we need to make sure we don’t bring this war here,” Beast advises. />
  Flynn leans forward. “I have a place in Hallensburg. A three-bedroom house with a pole barn.” All three of us stare at him. Flynn keeps to himself, so I shouldn’t be surprised, but he slept in the garage most the time or crashed with me in the winter.

  “Alright, so we’ll crash there, I guess,” I state. Hallensburg is about three towns away, not as far away as I’d like, but it’s the only new headquarters we have to keep Lydia from tracking us here.

  “My father has a dungeon-like setup in the basement,” Flynn continues. “Don’t ask why.”

  “Perfect,” Lev spouts, seriously not giving a shit. “When do we move?”

  “Chill out,” I tell my brother. “We haven’t even gotten to the part where we lure Lydia in.”

  Lev shuffles his feet. “How about ‘Hey bitch, we have your daughter, meet us in the middle of fucking nowhere to get her, and if you bring anyone with you, we kill her.’ Sound good enough?”

  “Sounds too easy,” Beast delivers with furrowed brows. “Why don’t you let the ex-con come up with a plan. All you’ve done is watch SVU.”

  I narrow my eyes at Beast. “Why ask me? I didn’t con my ass into millions of dollars or some Ocean’s Eleven type shit. I killed our father.”

  “Exactly,” Beast notes. “So, how do we sneak up on Lydia in New York with her daughter in tow?”

  “That’s a better idea,” Flynn notes. “Keep the heat off us over here and keep it in her backyard.”

  I lean back in my chair. “Alright, but we’re not busting in the middle of New York to shoot her up and expect to leave like a bunch of Navy SEALs. We need her out of New York, in a car or some shit.” I look at Beast. “Does she ever leave the city?”

  “I’ll find out.”

  “With all of us, we can take a bunch of city motherfuckers and take her out as well,” I say. “But it’ll be on turf we’re familiar with.”

 

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