by Aly Martinez
I blew out a relieved breath. “Much. Now, just so you know, I want to be the one to tell Bailey to fuck off.”
“No way! You’ll kill him,” she said so seriously that it made me laugh. “You let me handle, Derrick. He’s coming over tomorrow night. I’ll break it to him kindly then.”
“Fuck no you won’t! He’s not coming over here ever again.”
“Are we really fighting over Derrick Bailey while I’m sitting naked on your lap? This seems like a gross misuse of time.” She reached down and drew her fingernail over my cock. “Let me tell him tomorrow, and then you can say whatever you want next time you see him at the gym.”
I rumbled a groan and pressed my own hand between her legs.
“Can we go back to rewriting now?” She circled her hips against my fingers.
“Yeah.” I smiled, then began looking around the room. “Where do you want to start? Couch sex has its merits, but I think I’d like to lay you out on that table.”
Her eyes heated but she released the sweetest giggle when she answered, “Both.”
“Good plan.” Standing up off the couch, I slid her down my body until her feet landed on the ground. I began to push my jeans down my thighs, but paused to pull a long strip of condoms from my back pocket.
“Thank God!” she exclaimed, shoving me down on the couch.
I laughed as I fell, but Eliza made quick work of dragging my jeans off my feet as I tore the shirt over my head. She climbed onto my lap while I rolled the condom on between us, and within seconds, she sank down on my cock.
“Fuck.” I cursed as she began to ride me.
I wanted to kiss her, but I couldn’t drag my eyes from her body. She must have noticed my hungry gaze, because she asked, “You like to watch?” as she slid her hands up over her breasts and into her hair.
“My cock’s inside you, Eliza. I could watch this every fucking day for the rest of my life.”
“Good. Because you might have too.” She quickened her pace.
“That’s not exactly a hardship.” I leaned forward only long enough to drag my tongue over each of her nipples then reclined against the back of the couch.
Licking my finger, I slid it between us. On every down stroke, I gently tapped her clit, making her go wild on top of me. It was an unbelievably sexy sight.
She reached down and guided my hand to her breast. “No hands. I’m close.”
“Come on, baby. Give it to me. This isn’t the only time I’m making you come tonight.” I stared down as I once again found her clit.
“I mean . . . I don’t think I need your hand,” she panted and my eyes flashed to hers.
“No hands?” I questioned in shock.
She shook her head as she tightly wrapped her arms around my neck and continued to move over me, searching for her release.
No. Fucking. Hands.
I sat up, shifting to the edge of the couch, and began fucking her from the bottom. I could feel her muscles tense around my cock but I couldn’t keep up a pace in that position to make her come.
Jesus, she was so close though. I pushed to my feet with her in my arms.
“Don’t stop,” she cried. “Please.”
“Shhh . . .” I soothed as I leaned her shoulders against the wall. “Hold on, baby.” She clung to me as I drilled inside her. With every thrust her muscles contracted, fueling me forward.
“Harder,” she pleaded. However, if I fucked her much harder, we were going to be rebuilding a wall in her apartment.
I carried her over to the small dinning room table before releasing her legs and pulling out.
“What are you doing?” she objected on a whine.
I didn’t say a word as I spun her around in my arms and folded her face down over the table. Poising myself at her entrance, I whispered, “You need deeper. Not harder.” Then I slammed myself to the hilt inside her.
She released a strangled cry, but it quickly transformed into a breathy sigh. “Yes,” she hissed. My hands gripped her hips as I fucked her from behind, each thrust deeper than the last.
It took several strokes for me to perfect a rhythm. Only the sounds of her moans and clenching of her cunt guided me, but I finally figured her out.
“Oh God, Till!”
I bent down and raked my teeth over her shoulder, and it must have changed my angle because one thrust later—without the use of hands—I claimed Eliza Reynolds final first.
And every. Single. One. Of her lasts.
“HEY,” I SAID, PULLING THE door open.
“Wow. You look beautiful,” Derrick lied, leaning in to give me a hug.
I looked like hell. My lips were swollen, and there were bags under my eyes from staying up all night with Till. I smiled at the memory.
“Thanks.” I stepped away, allowing him space to come inside.
“You ready to go?”
“Umm . . .” I stalled.
Why the hell was I nervous? I had zero feelings for Derrick, but the butterflies still threatened to overtake me. I was so horrible at confrontation. I would have much rather just avoided Derrick than have this conversation with him, but I sure as hell didn’t want Till to do it.
“Can you give me a second?” I retreated to my bedroom.
I needed a little encouragement of the Till Page variety. I looked up at the ceiling and whispered his name. He didn’t respond, so I walked over to the wall and gently knocked.
“Hey,” I called out, but it wasn’t Till’s attention I gained.
“You okay?” Derrick asked as he rounded the corner to my room.
“Yeah. Sorry. I, um . . .” Again with the stalling.
“What’s going on, Eliza?” He stared at me with genuine concern.
I felt like an ass for making him worry. It wasn’t like I was breaking up with him. We had been on one date—two if the Chinese food from the night before counted. I wasn’t breaking his heart. I was simply informing him that I would no longer like to see him—in any capacity.
“I’m fine. Sorry. I’m just nervous. Look, some things have changed since last night, and I’m not going to be able to go out with you tonight . . . or, well, ever.” I gave him a tense smile and an apologetic shrug.
“Oh,” he said, snapping his head back in surprise. “Can you at least tell me what changed? You seemed pretty excited about going out last night.”
Clearly, I had been on a different date than Derrick had, because excited was not an adjective I would used to describe how I’d felt.
“Um . . . it’s just . . . Till came over, and we’ve decided to give a real relationship a try.”
I couldn’t be certain that he’d heard anything after I’d said Till’s name. His eyes had immediately grown dark.
“Page?” he growled. “Did you fuck him?”
I was shocked by his transformation, but not enough to keep my mouth shut. “I’m pretty sure that’s none of your damn business.”
“You did.” He nodded then laughed. “He fuck you on that bed?” He reached down and snatched the blanket off as if the sheets would reveal the proof.
I could have dealt with him acting like a dick, but there was something in his tone that prickled the hair on the back of my neck. Everything suddenly felt wrong, and my eyes flashed to the door for an escape.
“You need to leave.”
“So let me get this straight. You’re choosing that broke-ass wannabe over . . . me?” He pointed to his chest as he took a menacing step forward that forced me to back against the wall.
“Um, no. I just don’t think this is going to work out.” I inched toward the door.
“Bullshit!” he shouted, leaning close to my face and placing a hand next to my head against the wall. His proximity was intimidating, but it was the absence of emotion in his eyes that sent the red flags flying.
“Backup,” I said with a shaky voice.
“Yes. Let’s.” He laughed. “Let’s back up to when I asked you out, and maybe this time, you tell me the goddamn truth about y
our relationship with Till fucking Page.” He bit out his name like it burned on his tongue.
“I didn’t have a relationship with Till when you asked me out. We were just friends.”
“Liar!” he violently roared, spit flying from his mouth.
I glanced up at the ceiling. Yeah, maybe staying in my bedroom was a better course of action. At least Till could hear if things went sour.
“Please leave.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but I failed when a scary smile crept across his face.
He leaned in closer, inhaling deeply as he dragged his nose up my neck. “Where’s your boyfriend now?”
“Upstairs. He’s waiting on me. Let’s not make him come down here.” I played innocent, but Derrick knew that it was a threat. And it absolutely was.
His body tightened, and he immediately stepped away. I released a relieved breath, but it was entirely premature, because not even a second later, his fist landed hard against my face. My head snapped to the side as I fell over and collapsed against my easel before crashing to the floor.
“You think I’m fucking afraid of him?”
I had but one response. “Till!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, banging my hands against the wall. They were stilled as another fist landed against my cheek. My mind lagged as I tried to remain conscious. I needed help, and I knew he was only one paper-thin wall away.
“Till! Help me!” I shouted again, but a boot under my chin silenced any further cries.
“Till! Wake up. Till!”
I felt Quarry shaking my shoulders, but I could barely make out his words. I opened my eyes and saw his mouth moving, but he sounded a million miles away.
“Get up. Something’s wrong with Eliza.” His voice began to drift into clarity.
“What?” I jumped to my feet at the very mention of her name.
“She was screaming for help, so Flint took off and went down there. He told me to wake you up.”
Without another word, I rushed from my room, and just before I hit the front door, I heard a crash in Eliza’s apartment.
“Stay here,” I ordered, taking off down the stairs.
When I rounded the corner, I saw Eliza’s door wide open and heard a commotion. At a dead sprint, I rushed inside without a single fear of what I would encounter. She was in there. That alone was enough to force me into the pits of hell.
“You Page boys really are fucking stupid! You think you can take me?” Bailey yelled from on top of Flint’s chest, raining punches over his face.
Flint’s hands were raised defensively, but they did little good.
I dived across the room, catching Derrick off guard and knocking him to the floor. I had been livid when I’d seen him hit Flint, but nothing in my rough life could have prepared me for the way I felt when I lifted my eyes to find Eliza beaten, bloody, and curled into a ball in the corner of the room. Her gaze met mine and the dam broke as tears rushed from her eyes. Her body bucked as a sob tore from her throat. It didn’t take long to piece together the situation in front of me.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, knowing exactly what I needed to hear.
As soon as the words cleared her lips, my mind checked out completely. Murder and rage quickly filled the empty space it had left behind.
Derrick was just rising to his feet when I threw the hardest punch of my life. It was packed with more than simple determination to win a fight. It was packed with raw and visceral fury.
My knuckles cracked as they landed on his face. I also felt his cheekbone shatter under the blow, and it fueled me forward. Not a word was spoken by anyone in the room as my left hook landed hard on his kidney. He doubled over right in time for my uppercut to snap his head back. His legs were at least smart, because they carried him away from me as they fought to stay underneath him.
I charged after him, nowhere near done yet.
“You fucking piece of shit,” I growled, dodging his half-assed attempt at a blow.
“Fuck you. Enjoy my sloppy seconds.” He laughed with false confidence before spitting blood onto the floor.
I cracked my neck. I knew he was lying; he’d never had her. But the poor bastard actually thought he had gotten something from her and, in turn, something from me. He might have briefly touched what was mine, but he’d never had even a tiny morsel of Eliza Reynolds.
I focused to keep my eyes off her, knowing that one more glance would ensure that Bailey ended the night in a morgue. I needed to get to her, but not until he paid.
“See, clearly, you got confused somewhere.” I stepped forward, slamming a fist into his mouth. “That woman you just put your hands on has been mine since she took her first breath of air on this Earth.”
I threw a right he surprisingly dodged, but I followed it up with a quick left, knocking him to his ass. Then I lowered myself over him, assuming the same position he’d had on Flint. Grabbing his throat, I cut off his airway. His arms began to wildly seek out contact, but they only ended up sailing through the empty air. His eyes were bulging as he turned red.
“And last night, I finally claimed her once and for all. That date you went on was never about you. It was always about me. All you got was an angry woman trying to make me hurt. But make no mistake—every single time she looked at you, touched you, or even spoke to you, it was always”—I leaned in as close as I could get—“me!”
With that last word, I finished it. Punch after punch, I gave him tenfold anything he could have ever dished out. My vision tunneled as he went limp under me. His head flopped back and forth with every slam. Blood poured from his eyes and mouth, but I was physically unable to stop.
“That’s enough, Till. Come on.” Flint wrapped his arms around my shoulders pulling me backwards, but I kept going.
I couldn’t hit Derrick hard enough to give myself any kind of satisfaction. Not after I’d seen her like that. My arms continued flailing as Flint dragged me to my feet.
“She was always mine!” I roared at Bailey’s unconscious body. “Mine!” I landed a kick to his shoulder and a stomp to his stomach before Flint hauled me out of range.
“Fucking stop! You’re going to kill him!” he yelled, struggling to get me under control. “Goddammit, Till. Chill out and go take care of Eliza.”
At the mention of her name, the blinding rage began to ebb from my system. Eliza.
“Eliza?” I called when I didn’t see her in the corner anymore. “Doodle?” I yelled as Flint dropped his hands, finally convinced I wasn’t after that piece of shit, Bailey, anymore. “Eliza!”
Flint filled in the blank. “She’s in her room.”
I rushed down the hall to her room. Bile rose in my throat as I took in the mess around me. Holy shit. Her easel was broken and all of her art supplies were scattered across the floor. The table next to her bed was tipped over and several frames lay shattered on the ground. How the fuck did I not hear this?
My eyes found her small body in the corner by her closet. Her knees were pulled to her chest, her head resting on top of them; her hands were muffling her ears. After walking over, I squatted down in front of her, careful not to touch her even though every fiber of my being was screaming for me to do just that.
“Eliza,” I whispered, and I heard her mumble something I couldn’t quite make out against her legs. “Huh?” I questioned.
She lifted her head to look at me. I tried really fucking hard not to show any reaction to her injuries, but seeing her in that condition tore away a piece of me I would never be able to reclaim. It gutted me.
There was never a day I could remember where I hadn’t wanted to see Eliza. I used to wait on bated breath to catch just a single glance of her inky, blue eyes. However, I’d have given anything to be able to erase from my memory the way she looked in that moment. Her eyes were both already starting to swell shut, and a large, purple bruise covered almost one whole side of her face. Blood was pouring from a gash over her left eyebrow, and a split in her bottom lip sent more blood trickling down her chin.
“Don’t know, don’t care. Are you okay?” I brushed the hair away from her blood-soaked face.
Her only response was a simple shake of her head before she flew into my arms.
I scooped her off the ground and carried her to the bed. I had to bite my lip when I heard her painfully hiss a curse as I set her down. I battled with the overwhelming urge to finish what I’d started with Derrick, but that would have to wait.
“I’m gonna to get you some ice and something to clean up that cut, okay?”
She nodded.
As I began to walk away, I searched her battered body for somewhere to kiss but came up empty. I settled on her hand, pulling it to my mouth and pressing a reassuring kiss to her palm. It might not have done anything for her, but it sure as hell quelled a fire brewing inside me.
She’s okay.
I walked back into the room to find Flint leaning over Derrick. He appeared to still be unconscious, but anger once again swept through me.
“I think we need to call an ambulance.” Flint said with worry painting his face.
I shook my head and continued to the freezer.
“I’m serious, Till. He doesn’t sound good. His breathing is all gargled, and he’s not waking up.”
“I don’t give one fuck if he dies on that floor. He dug his grave when he touched her. If he still has breath in his lungs right now, it’s too much.”
“You’ll get in trouble,” he pleaded.
But my mind was made up. I wasn’t lifting a single finger to help that piece of shit, not even if it were just to dial 911.
“What. The. Fuck?” boomed from the doorway.
I spun to find Slate’s wide eyes resting on Bailey. He hurried inside and knelt beside him.
“Flint, call nine-one-one. Now!” he shouted. “What the hell happened?”
“Not nearly enough.” I turned my attention back to packing ice into a bag.
“Um. I . . . uh . . .” Eliza stuttered from the hallway.
“What the fuck!” Slate yelled, but before I could glance over my shoulder to see the reason for his curse, I was pinned against the fridge from behind.
