Crybaby

by K. Webster

  He’s consuming me with every second into our kiss. And just when I don’t think he can devour any more of me, out come his teeth.

  He bites me—actually bites me.

  My bottom lip suffers the abuse. It makes a shriek tear through me but he won’t give it up. His teeth back away and then his tongue is lapping away the burn of his bite. Sharp metallic blood floods through my mouth. I’m so confused that I’m turned on.

  He bit me.

  I’m still reeling when his hand squeezes against my throat, trapping air in the process. “I lost you there for a minute,” he breathes against my lips. “Too much? It’s not too late to give up. I’ll leave right now and you’ll be safe. Safe from me. My teeth. My bed. My cock. Say the words, crybaby. Beg me to leave you alone.”

  I moan when he kisses me again. As though he doesn’t want me to say no. As if he can kiss the word away. His grip on my throat has loosened and his thumb caresses me in a simple yet possessive way that fills me with an emotion I’ve not felt before.

  Wanted.

  I feel wanted and desired and needed.

  As if my purpose is to make someone else happy.

  My heart rattles to life in its cage and bangs against its bars.

  “Ruin me, Drew. Fucking ruin me.”

  I’m seconds away from begging him to just take me upstairs and have his way with me when the garage door into the kitchen creaks open. Drew jerks away from me as if being burned by fire. He crouches to pick up my cane and hands it to me. Besides his messy hair and now wrinkled shirt, you’d never know he was trying to gobble me up. His features are cool and impassive. A hint of smugness.

  But I see.

  The fire raging in his dark blue eyes.

  The hardly contained obsession to consume.

  “Soph, I thought tonight we could…” Dad starts as he rounds the corner with Dorian not far behind. He trails off and frowns. “Drew. What are you doing here?”

  Snapping into concerned therapist mode, Drew offers his hand to my father. The same hand that was inside me earlier today. “I think we’re finally making some progress in her therapy. I wanted to see how she fared after today’s intense session.” His gaze darts to mine and he winks. Dorian narrows her eyes at me but I can see the questions dancing in her eyes. I, of course, pretend to be annoyed at him so she’ll stop her mental probing.

  Dad, happy for a good progress report, shakes his hand firmly. “Excellent news. Who’s the therapist now?” Meaning, how long will this last before my daughter runs them off?

  “I’ve taken on the case as it’s a complicated one,” Drew tells him, his brows furrowing together. “I want her to see Dr. White again to have some new tests done. Sophia is still suffering and I want to get to the bottom of it.”

  Dad nods before pulling me into one of his strong, warm hugs. I sag against his body and let him hold me for a moment. “I’m glad to see you’ve taken over. My daughter’s health and recovery is of utmost importance. I want to see her happy again.”

  Guilt surges through me. It’s not that I have any control over the fact that I got hurt and how it destroyed my life. Dad probably hopes that if I get well again, I’ll go back to my old self. The bitterness and ice would melt away.

  But my heart is different.

  Shredded and raw and fucking bleeding all the time.

  I don’t have the guts to tell him I’ll never be her again.

  Drew clears his throat. “Well, I should be going. I have to get home. I’ll keep you posted on her progress.” He tips his head and flashes me a look that says, You’re still coming over. Find a way or else I’ll drag you out of here, consequences be damned.

  “I should get going too. Dad, I’m headed out to Alicia’s. We’re working on a project for school. It might get late so I’ll just stay over.”

  Dad nods, completely unaware of my devious intentions but Dorian rubs at her pregnant belly with furrowed brows. Of course they think they’re hiding that from me but I’m not stupid. “I’m glad to see you wanting to be around people again,” he says sadly before kissing my forehead. “You’re always so lonely, baby girl.”

  My chest aches at his words and embarrassment floods through me because Drew had to hear them. When I sneak a glance at him, his brows are furrowed in a ferocious, manic way. The fisted hands at his sides indicate that it’s taking everything in him not to pluck me from my Dad’s doting attention and drag me out of the house by my hair.

  He wants me.

  Stingy and selfish and greedy.

  His eyes rove over me in a way that screams, You’re mine.

  I’ve always thought of Drew as the ass. Miles’s mouthy best friend who called me names. Hate from inception. I’m not sure when all that hate and fury evolved into passionate need. Like a flip of a switch.

  “See you tomorrow,” Dad finally says, breaking the intense spell clouding the air around us. “Love you.”

  Drew’s gaze lingers on me. For a moment, I see a softness in them for me. As if he sees parts of me that I keep trapped beneath the ice surrounding my heart. Vulnerable parts of myself seem to melt away and are freed in his presence. I’m not sure if I like that feeling at all.

  I follow him outside and Dad follows me. Thankfully, despite my left hip being ruined, I use my right leg to drive and can still manage okay. It isn’t until I’m sitting in my car that my phone buzzes.

  Ass: Get your ass home, crybaby. It’s going to be a long night.

  His shiny silver Audi drives off with a slight squeal of the tires. A shudder ripples through me. I’m not sure if I’m apprehensive about what all this long night will entail or if I’m giddy over the fact that he told me to get home. As in his home.

  Drew Hamilton is complicated.

  And something tells me that very shortly I’m going to start learning about him piece by devastatingly handsome piece.

  I smile—genuine as hell—as I put the car in reverse.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  I’m losing my mind.

  I need something—someone—to ground me. Fuck. Quickly, as I drive to my house, I dial my best friend. He answers on the second ring.

  “I’m in deep,” I blurt, my voice hoarse.

  Music thumps in the background and I know he’s up at his club. Club Orj-E has become a sexual feast for a person like myself. I’ve been able to prowl around dabbling in anything remotely interesting. That club is where I discovered my kinks and sexual desires. Where I honed them and fine-tuned them into a custom made entity that represents me.

  I’m not a sadist but I love to make them scream.

  I’m not a dominant but I love making them bend to my will.

  I’m not kinky but I sure as fuck love tying them up.

  Them.

  Women.

  All ages, shapes, and backgrounds.

  Mine for the tasting.

  “Define deep,” Miles says, mild amusement in his tone.

  “I’m going to fuck a teenager.”

  The line is silent for a moment. “And not just any teenager, huh?”

  I sigh in frustration. “No. Certainly not just any teenager. Her.”

  I’m not sure how he knows, but he does. I’ve known Miles since we were kids. He knows things about me that I don’t even have to say.

  “She’s young,” he throws back at me, a stab from a conversation we had a year ago. “Not only is she illegal, but teenagers are dramatic and come with baggage.”

  “Like I give a fuck about baggage.”

  He laughs. “You’re playing a dangerous game. Daddy is a judge…”

  As if this motherfucker didn’t play the same goddamned dangerous game once before. “I’m perfectly aware.” I’m silent for a pause. “She’s so fucking broken, Miles. I want to…I want to…” I don’t know what the fuck I want to do. Normally, I like doing the breaking. I’m not sure what to do when they’re already that way.

  “You want to put her back together again?” he supplies, his tone serious.r />
  My eyes drift to the rearview mirror where her car tails mine. “And then some. Her hip…” I trail off and scrub at my face. “It’s not all a fucking act. She’s suffering.” The word tastes disgusting on my tongue. There’s something about Sophia. I don’t want her to suffer. I want her to feel good. Healed and happy.

  “Then who better to fix her than the good doctor?”

  “I told her I would ruin her,” I tell him, my voice gruff.

  “You will.”

  “But that isn’t all I want to do.”

  “That’s a first.”

  I frown as I grip the steering wheel. “Her smiles…they’re so goddamned beautiful.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” he says dryly. “Not sure she’s ever smiled around me.”

  “Well, that’s because you’re an ugly motherfucker who looks like he models for a lumberjack calendar. I think everyone grimaces when they see you,” I say with a laugh.

  He snorts. “Fuck off, Ken.”

  “Ken is plastic. I’m hard as a fucking rock.”

  “I’m pretty sure your dicks are the same.”

  “Maybe we should ask your mom.”

  “Fuck off, prick,” he says with a chuckle. “If you’ve called looking for someone to talk you out of it, I’m not going to. If you’ve called looking for someone to talk you into it, I’ll sure as hell do that. Apparently, she gets under your skin. Soph is a big girl. Mean as fuck too. If she wants to sleep with you, it’ll be all her. Nobody forces that girl to do anything. Have some fun with the poor thing. She sure as hell needs a little fun in her life.”

  His words hollow me out. I’m no longer interested in joking about her. With a blurted goodbye, I hang up on him. But he was right. She never has fun. Doesn’t do anything remotely pleasurable for herself. I know this because my best friend is married to her sister. A month doesn’t go by where I don’t see Sophia several times. I listen and from what I pick up from her family, she’s miserable as fuck.

  Oh, crybaby, I’m about to change that.

  Tonight, I’ll taste her ripe little body.

  And then I’m going to show her what it means to live again.

  “We’re seriously not doing water therapy,” she grits out from the sliding glass door that leads outside. “It’s cold.”

  “Don’t be a baby. It’s fine.”

  Beast yaps from my arms as he wiggles to get away to go see her. As soon as I set him down, he tears off over to her and begins hopping in front of her so she’ll pick him up. I don’t have the heart to call him off her. She can barely walk with a cane, much less carry my obnoxious dog too. But surprisingly, she scoops him into her arms and kisses him. In that moment with her lips pressed to my pup, she seems so young. Guilt gnaws at me for touching and kissing her. For proposing that we fuck. Shouldn’t a young woman like her be off fucking around with boys her own age?

  Her gaze eventually leaves Beast and searches for me. I’m standing by the heated pool’s edge in a pair of swim trunks. Greedily, she devours my bare chest. Miles and I kill it at the gym every morning before I go into the clinic. I’m thankful she takes notice. Being almost forty, I have to work extra hard to keep my shit in shape.

  She licks her lips and I’m done for. I stalk over to her with deadly intent rippling from me. Fuck guilt. I’m not going to feel guilty for wanting this girl who so desperately craves someone. She doesn’t just crave sex or touch or affection, she craves to feel alive. It’s written all over her face.

  I’m no prince charming.

  But this villainess doesn’t seem the type who likes hearts and flowers either.

  Darkness blazes in her green eyes. She doesn’t know what she wants or how to even ask for it but the desire is there nonetheless. A stupid kid at her high school would clumsily grope at her, stick his dick in her, and knock her ass up just to get off. Meanwhile, he wouldn’t give her the orgasms she desperately deserves. And what if he hurt her? He doesn’t know how to hold her hips so that she isn’t caused pain.

  A feral growl escapes me at the thought of this punk-ass imaginary kid. I want to bash his face in and he doesn’t exist.

  She’s mine.

  “I’m not sure if I want to know what has you glaring at me like that. Are you plotting all the horrible ways you’re going to make me suffer during therapy?” she asks, her tone playful and light despite the rage that is burning from me.

  Suffer.

  I fucking hate that word.

  “Put Toto down, Dorothy, I’m about to take you to Oz.”

  She starts giggling—dear fucking God that sound—and I stand there mesmerized. The sound is light and cheerful and so damn pretty. Her laughter is a gift straight from the heavens showered down upon the devil himself. It makes me want to tie her to my bed and tickle her for hours just to hear the sound—to have it fill me up indefinitely.

  I pluck Beast from her grip and set him down. He barks at me angrily but then hears a squirrel that he must go try and murder. As soon as he takes off, I take her cane from her before tossing it away. Then, carefully, I scoop her into my arms. I carry this gorgeous girl like some pussy prince would carry his bride over the threshold.

  “Drew,” she groans, embarrassment tainting my name. “I’m too heavy for you to do this.”

  I glare down at her as if she’s lost her goddamned mind. “What?”

  “I’m heavy,” she grits out. “Put me down. I’ll walk.”

  “Like fuck you will,” I snap. “And this self-depreciating bullshit is boring.”

  She hisses as if I’ve slapped her. “Excuse me but you’d be self-depreciating too if you fucked up your body and ruined your life! I can’t exercise and I’ve gained all this weight. I’m fat now and—”

  Over her tantrum, I toss her in the water.

  She barely makes a splash.

  Heavy, my ass.

  When she emerges from the water, a screech pierces the night. “You ass! That hurt!” But the look on her face tells me it hurt her pride more than anything. I was mindful of the way I threw her in so that her bad hip wouldn’t take the impact.

  “You deserved it,” I bark as I stalk over to the diving board. “And if I hear you ever call yourself that stupid shit again, I’ll take you over my knee and spank that fat ass.” My dick thickens at that thought.

  I hop onto the diving board and run to the end. With a heavy jump, I bounce up and then flip into the water. Under the surface, I open my eyes and pinpoint where she is. Her body is moving slowly. I’ll catch her. There’s no getting away from me. Ever.

  I latch on to her waist with my hands and revel in the way she screams above the surface. She tries and fails to hit me, the water slowing her movements. I pop up from the water and fling my head back to knock the hair out of my eyes.

  “Any other dumb things you want to say, crybaby?”

  She glares at me but doesn’t move from my grip. My hands have locked onto her soft flesh and my aching dick presses against her stomach.

  “Other than you’re a psycho fucktard, no,” she spits out.

  I flash her a crooked grin. “You make me that way. I’ll have you know that this time last week, I was your regular every day fucktard.” I lift a hand to her wet cheek and caress her skin. “You bring the psycho out in me. What can I say?”

  Her gaze softens as she melts against my touch. This. This gets her off. The attention, the touches, the tenderness. But this girl also likes to spar. Her words are her strength. Her tongue is her venom. With a broken body and a suffering spirit, it’s all she has left against the world.

  “Drew,” she says sadly. “Why am I here?”

  “Because I want your tight cunt wrapped around my massive ten-inch cock,” I deadpan.

  She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Have you measured it?”

  “I don’t need to. Some things you know.”

  “I’ll be the judge,” she tells me, her chin lifting in a regal manner. As if she’s the knower of all dicks. The thought irritates me. I do
n’t want her knowing about any dicks but mine.

  “My dick will impress you. It impresses even the harshest of judges.”

  Her green eyes darken and she looks away. “Again, why am I here? You could be with any woman right now. Women who are slender and flawless. Women with perfect tits and smiles. Women who can fucking walk.” Her words come out hatefully as tears spring from her eyes.

  My hand slides to her throat and I punish her with a grip that makes it a struggle to breathe. I like the raspy sounds of her air begging for escape. “You’re here,” I snarl, my mouth close to hers, “because you want to be. Because I want you to be. We’ve been dancing around each other for nearly a year and now that I’ve finally had a true moment with you, I’m not eager to let it slip away. To let you slip away. Apparently you don’t ever look in the goddamned mirror, crybaby. You’re fucking gorgeous. A siren with the most tempting lips. Soulful eyes and a heart that bleeds right in my fucking face. I’m so into you, it’s fucking with my head. I feel like you’re silently screaming at me to slide into your veins and fill you up with me. Like you want me to possess you.” I relax my grip on her throat and kiss her pouty lips. “Your body is curvy and fleshy. It makes my dick hard knowing I have actual meat to grip onto. To fucking bite and bruise.” My hand falls from her neck and she sucks in air. When my palm slides to her breast over her swimsuit, she lets out a mewl. “And these tits? They’re fucking divine. Stop being a goddamned crybaby and open your eyes. See what I and the world see. Someone of value. Someone gorgeous and brave and tough as shit.”

  She swallows and her nostrils flare. “But I can’t walk well and—”

  “I’ll just have to carry you then,” I snarl, my fingers clawing at her small tit. My thumb roughly pulls back the fabric before diving back in to rub against her erect nipple. “I’ll tell you once more. The self-depreciating bullshit ends tonight. You’re hell on wheels and I’ll be damned if I watch you go weak on me. So you can’t fucking play softball anymore. Boo fucking hoo.”

  She growls. Like a goddamned kitten. “Fuck you.”

  “Later, sweetness,” I say in a smug tone. “But softball is just a hobby. Very few go on to do something with that in life. You’ve got a brain rattling around in that pretty head. Those gears don’t ever stop turning. I watch them every time I look at you. Find your purpose and start making your way toward it. Even if it’s hobbling along with a fucking granny cane. You just keep going.”