by Jenika Snow
Chapter Seven
Cookie needed to get back out front. She had been sitting in the kitchen for far longer than she should have, and she knew Tatum was probably wondering what in the hell was up with her. Cookie didn’t know, though, and that pissed her off. She had never been so confused in her life, and none of it made any sense to her. She shouldn’t even want a man in her life. She should hate and feel disgusted with men given what she had been through. But she had never allowed that to define her. Pushing forward and thinking that one day something would change had allowed her to have hope. The sound of the kitchen door opening and closing sounded behind her.
“I’m sorry, Tatum. I know I was back here for a while. You ready to start cooking dinner?” she said and turned around, but it was Kink who stood by the now closed door. She swallowed, felt her pulse increase and her palms sweat, and hated the fact this seemed to be her reaction to him anymore.
“Hi.” She hated that she didn’t sound stronger in the voice department, but aside from the couple of times she had served him at the bar, and the clipped words he had given her, they really had never been in each other’s company, and certainly not alone. It felt like the walls were closing in on her, and she wiped her hands on her jeans.
“I make you uncomfortable,” he said bluntly, and moved closer. He had his hands shoved in the front pocket of his jeans, and his muscles bulged out. His biceps were so damn big they looked like they would burst right through his t-shirt and his cut. He stopped on the other side of the stainless steel table between them, and she gripped the edge and curled her hands around it.
“Yeah, you do.” She wasn’t going to lie, because there wasn’t a point. “But I think I make you uncomfortable, too.” She didn’t know why she had said that, but the words had tumbled out of her on their own. She didn’t regret saying them, though, because she did think she made him feel a bit off balanced at times, like right now.
He didn’t respond but moved around the table and stood right beside her. He leaned against it, crossed his arms, and stared down at her. But Cookie wasn’t about to move. Cookie had seen a lot of frightening men, and Kink might be one of the most intimidating ones she had ever met, but there was no fear in her. The longer he stared at her, the more she felt her arousal grow. She was wet between her thighs, and that was a feeling that she was not used to, this need to be with a man so urgently that it made no sense. She was so confused as to how a man just staring at her could make her feel this kind of lust. What was it about Kink that made her feel like she was about to dive down into this darkness … a pit of darkness that she craved? The scent of the alcohol came from him, surrounding her, but there was also the crisp, pungent aroma of his leather vest, and a hint of exhaust from his bike. It was a weird combination, and one that shouldn’t be arousing whatsoever. But to Cookie it made her belly twist and turn, had her body heating to a point sweat beaded along the center of her breasts, and had her wishing that she could have the courage to just take what she wanted.
“What’s your name?” he asked in that low, deep voice of his that actually had her toes curling.
He didn’t even know her name. That had the high of being around him vanishing. “Cookie.”
He shook his head slowly, and a small smile spread across his ruggedly handsome face. “I know that, darlin’. I meant what is your real name.” He lifted a dark eyebrow and curled the corner of his mouth. “Surly your folks didn’t name you after a dessert.” He was teasing her, and although she didn’t even want to think about the people that had brought her into this world, she found herself smiling in return.
“No, of course not.” She swallowed. “It’s Bailey Marie Smith.” Her cheeks heated uncomfortably, and the smile faded from Kink’s face.
“Bailey, like the liquor.”
She licked her lips and took a step back when he moved one closer to her. “Yeah, my mom was probably drunk when she had me.” She wasn’t joking about that, and was thankful Kink didn’t start laughing. Despite all the stuff happening in the last few weeks, wanting to be with him was the last thing she should even think about. He probably saw her as nothing more than this slut that had been sold to men and passed around like an ashtray. How she wanted to tell him it was far from the truth. She had been a virgin up until her uncle had sold her to Morris, despite the nasty touches from the men in her life who should have protected her. Even though she had stayed with Morris, that lowlife piece of shit for far too many years, and he had finally sold her, she hadn’t been passed around like a piece of meat. The Brothers had saved her—all of those women, in fact—before it had gone down that road. But she kept her mouth shut. It wouldn’t have made a difference anyway.
“You’re too young to be in this kind of lifestyle.”
She straightened her shoulders. “And what kind of lifestyle is that?”
He didn’t speak for what felt like long, grueling minutes. “The hard, unforgiving kind, Bailey.”
She swallowed roughly at the sound of hearing him say her real name. She had never thought she’d like hearing a man speak it, but yeah, she liked hearing Kink say it a lot. She shrugged, not knowing exactly how to respond to that.
“How old are you anyway? Twenty-three, twenty-four?” He took another step toward her.
“Twenty-one.” She breathed out and realized she had nowhere else to go when the fridge stopped her retreat.
He stopped when he was only inches from her, and lowered his gaze down the length of her body. When he made the trek back up to her eyes, he held her stare with his own for a second. “Yeah, you’re too damn young to be in this kind of fucking life. And you’re really too young for me, Bailey.”
“My name is Cookie.” She said that on a breath, knowing it was a damn lie. She liked hearing him saying her real name, liked the way it made her feel, too.
“My name is Kink, but I think I’d like hearing you call me Logan.” He lifted his arms and placed his hands on the refrigerator right by her head. “That’s my real name, Bailey. Logan Roberts, but Kink has always been who I was.” He lowered his gaze to her lips. A moment of silence passed between them. “Do I make you nervous because you’re afraid of me and what I’ll do, or because you’re anticipating it?”
A visible shiver worked through her, and she slowly licked her lips. He watched the act, and she wondered if he saw how hard her nipples were. “Both.” She was afraid of him, and not just because of the way he made her feel. This man was older than she was, probably close to twice her age even. But the way he carried himself, like he was not afraid of what the world held, made her realize that he could take so much from her. He probably wouldn’t even realize he had left her behind when he was done.
“I shouldn’t even be here, you know.”
She didn’t say anything to his statement.
“But there is something special about you, Bailey, something that makes me feel pretty fucking strange inside.”
Yeah, she knew the feeling. “Maybe you shouldn’t explore that then.” Was she trying to push him away? It seemed like that, but now that he was right in front of her, and she was inhaling the same air as he was, there was this moment that her body was screaming at her to leave and not look back. This man could hurt her, but not in the physical way that she had experienced too many times already. He could hurt her heart.
“I should leave, but I’m not going to. In fact, I haven’t wanted to be anywhere else in a long fucking time.” He leaned in an inch closer, and she held her breath. “But do you want me to walk away from whatever it is we are doing here, Bailey?” He stared right in her eyes, and she wanted to look away from their intensity, but she couldn’t.
The smart thing to say was to tell him that yes, starting something between them was so very wrong. He didn’t live a good life, so wouldn’t being together make an explosion of disastrous proportions? But as she opened her mouth to say that, something sparked inside of her. It was that little voice that she had tried to bury so deep it would never resurfa
ce. She had hidden it, and waited until it could never resurface again.
You’ve never had anything in your life worth fighting for. But you want Kink, want to feel something that makes you alive. Stop being afraid, take off the mask, and take what you want for the first time in your miserable life.
It was the voice of reason, of temptation and need, and it was the one she didn’t let outside because it frightened her. She wanted to live, and she was now free, had the man she wanted right in front of her, and her fingers itched to bring him closer. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, feel the heavy thump-thump in her throat, and actually felt the wave and push of her blood through her veins. And like something possessed her, just took control of her and pushed away all of her trepidation, apprehension, and nervousness, she reached up, grabbed hold of the short hair at the base of his skull, and pulled him down toward her. To say this was not normal behavior for her was the understatement of the century, but it wasn’t because she had witnessed a lot of nasty stuff in her lifetime. Maybe some would say she was sick in the head, damaged and broken over the things she had witnessed at home, or the things Morris made her to do him, but she always felt like she rose above that, didn’t let it define who she was, and knew one day she would be able to be her own person.
She pressed her lips to his, and for a moment he was so damn tense and hard beneath her mouth. Maybe he was scared himself, or surprised by her boldness? Either way she was not going to stop until he told her to. Then she would let the reality of all of this settle in. Right now it felt good to have him pressed close to her, to feel his hardness against her softness. She wasn’t short by any means, but even at five-foot-six Kink towered over her, and made her feel more feminine and fragile than she had ever felt.
He pulled back, breathed out heavily, but was still close enough that if she just leaned in that inch she could kiss him again. But he didn’t bring his mouth back to hers, and instead speared his hand in her hair, pulled her head back so her neck was arched, and placed his lips hard on her neck. For several long seconds all he did was lick and nip at her throat. He ran his tongue up her flesh, circled it around her ear, and growled out roughly. “You smell so good, taste so fucking good.” He went back to running his teeth up and down her neck, and then pressed the lower half of his body against her belly. He was hard for her, rock hard in fact, and he started grinding himself against her. “You see what you do to me? You see how hard I am, and all it took was this one kiss to make me nearly coming in my fucking jeans.”
A small gasp left her, but she didn’t push him away, and instead gripped his hair tighter, and pulled him in closer.
“But you’ve made me this hard before, Cookie. You’ve made me like damn steel, and all I had to do was look at you.”
Another shiver worked its way through her body, and she grew wetter. God, she was so wet.
“You want me to touch you?” he whispered roughly against her ear. “You want me to touch your breasts, your pussy, or maybe that juicy ass of yours?”
She was breathing heavier, not sure how to respond, but knowing she wanted to tell him all the things she desired him to do to her.
“All you have to do is tell me where you want me to touch you, Cookie,” he said low, heavy, and his warm breath teased her hair.
She didn’t say anything, just lifted her hand, took hold of his that was beside her head, and lowered it to her breast. “Here,” she said softly, and when he pulled back to look in her eyes, she pushed his hand even lower still. “And here,” she said when he was now pressing between her thighs.
“Damn, baby, I can feel how wet you are for me.” He pressed his hand a little harder against her.
She rested her head back on the fridge and forced herself to keep her eyes open. The way he rubbed his fingers against her had all the muscles inside of her contracting and releasing. “This is so…” She didn’t know how to finish that sentence. It felt right, so right in fact, but it also felt rushed, unusual. The sensations moving through her were like nothing she’d ever experienced before. They frightened her, excited her, and made her want to latch onto them and not let go. But she also had to be realistic. A man like Kink, one that she knew got around in the club with the willing women, certainly wouldn’t want her for more than a few hours.
But do you want more than a few hours with him, Bailey? Do you want to give your heart to a guy that lives this kind of lifestyle, and that wouldn’t want more than what is between your thighs?
And that damn voice that had urged her to take control reared its ugly fucking head, and told her what was right in her face.
“You still with me, baby?”
She blinked back the haze that covered her vision and stared at Kink. He still had his hand between her legs, right on her pussy, but there was a moment where he looked worried about her reaction. She wasn’t going to expect more than he was willing to give, because honestly she didn’t want to have to find solace and peace with a man. She could do that on her own, planned on it even. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to enjoy the life that was before her, and be the one that decided who she took into her bed.
“I’m here.” She breathed out. “I’m right here, Kink.”
He exhaled roughly, as if he had been holding in his breath, and leaned his forehead against hers.
“It’s me, isn’t it? I’m too coarse and pushing you too far, too fast?” He pulled back, but right when he was about to pull his hand away she gripped his wrist and kept him right where he was.
“It’s not you, and I want this.” She emphasized her point by grinding herself on him, and gasping out at the spark of pleasure that action produced.
“Yeah, you do, baby.” He groaned and closed his eyes, and pressed his erection further against her.
“But aren’t you curious about me, Kink?” Her words had him stilling. “You know about me, or at least have an assumption about my past.” She didn’t know why she was even bringing this up right now, but a part of her wanted him to know that she hadn’t been passed around, and that she had not willingly subjecting herself to a life of paid sex.
He shook his head and leaned in close to kiss her softly. “Does it matter what happened in either of our pasts?” He murmured the words.
“It might,” she said truthfully. If he knew the shit she had been through, he might change his mind in going through with this all.
For a second all he did was just stare at her, and then he finally shook his head slowly. “It doesn’t matter, baby—”
“I didn’t sell myself. I was forced into this life, made to be the…” God, she couldn’t even force herself to say all the degrading things Morris had made her do. “I was made to do things to a man that thought he owned me. But I supposed he did since my uncle sold me off for some drugs.”
He didn’t respond right away, but she continued.
“And that was after my upbringing was something you’d hear about in the bathroom of a rundown truck stop…” She took a deep, steadying breath. “And it was just as filthy, Kink.” This was the last thing she wanted to talk about right now, but she wanted Kink to know. “My mother screwed people in front of me, and when she died I was forced upon my aunt and uncle that didn’t want me.” She refused to cry. “And then there was Morris, the man I said owned me. He was a sadistic asshole, like to torment me because that was what he liked.”
He went to remove his hand again, and the expression on his face was hard, angry, and filled with something dangerous.
“I’m not saying these things to disgust you, but I would understand if you were.” She took a deep breath. “And when Morris was done playing with me, he sold me to that pimp that started beating on the woman that had willingly sold themselves.” Her eyes began to water, and she hated that she was showing her weakness. Cookie had done a good job of acting indifferent to everything, but laying it all out to a man she really wanted, but one she didn’t really know, was hard. And all for what? Because she wanted him to see her as
something more than flesh that had been used up?
“Fucking hell, Cookie.” He brushed away a tear that she hadn’t known had fallen. When he went to pull away she reached out and grabbed his thick wrist.
“Please, I want you to touch me, to be the man I choose to be with.” She was breathing heavily. Although she had opened up a part of herself she hadn’t shown anyone aside from this man, she still wanted him desperately.
“Baby,” he said gutturally. “How can I be with you after you say something like that?” He took his hand away, but didn’t move back. Instead he cupped her face with his big, calloused hands, and stared into her eyes “You’re breaking my fucking heart, Cookie.” He spoke softly, but with so much meaning that she felt, for the first time in her life, that she was wanted and thought of for more than what she could provide.
“I don’t want to break anyone’s heart. I didn’t tell you that for sympathy. I want you, Kink, more than I probably should, but regardless, I am choosing you.” Her heart was beating so hard it actually hurt. “I’m not looking for anything more than just being with you.”
“Cookie,” he said as if he were in pain.
“I don’t want to talk about my past anymore, because I’ve done my best to move on from that time in my life. I just want something that makes me feel good for once.” She searched his face with her gaze, hoping he saw the truth behind her words. “I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. I just want to live, Kink, and I want to start living by being with you.” They stared at each other, and then as if they both moved into action at the same time, they pressed their mouths together.
