Hammered

by Mj Fields

  “Get back here,” I order.

  “Sorry, I’m halfway back. I have things to do today.”

  “Think you could have—”

  “Woke you up before I left?” She barks a sarcastic laugh.

  Fuck.

  “Look, this thing we have going, it’s obvious it’s a physical thing.”

  “Nothing wrong with the physical part of us,” I snap.

  “Tell that to my vagina, the one that seems to think it needs your dick all the damn time.”

  “What the hell did you just say?” I gasp.

  “Yeah, she’s got issues. Achy and empty when your guy isn’t around. So, this thing, you better make sure you put forth some effort, or I’m gonna have to find—”

  “You may want to check your words, babe,” I nearly snap at her.

  “What, Gage? You’ve got me chasing dick,” she defends herself.

  “No better dick to chase,” I tell her the damn truth.

  “Yeah, well, a dick’s a dick.”

  “You could get your ass back here, and I’ll give you a fucking reminder of why that’s bullshit, and you know it.”

  She sighs. “You’re being a little needy here, Gage Falcon. This isn’t what you...want. I’m not sure I’m okay with it, either.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I am now a few octaves below yelling at her.

  “Are your feelings hurt, Gage? Should I have woken you up before I left? You want me to send a bouquet of flowers to stop you from being butt hurt?”

  “Butt hurt! Really? You’re all but begging for yours to wear a fucking handprint.”

  “It’s all good. You take care of what you need to, and I’ll do the same. Catch you around, Gage Falcon.”

  “Phoenix,” I hiss.

  “Tell that dick of yours my bruised vag says thanks.”

  “Phoenix...” I begin again, but she hangs up on me.

  I look down at my dick tent and curse at it.

  “Morning,” I say as I walk out and see my brothers sitting around the kitchen island.

  Both of them start laughing, and it feels damn good to see it. Been years. But the fact that it’s at me and I’m not in the fucking mood to be laughed at, it pisses me off.

  I ignore it.

  They don’t.

  “She’s a pistol,” Grayson says.

  I look at him and scowl.

  “She walked outta here, head held high, hair all sorts of fucked up,” Gray continues.

  “Like Mom’s used to be in the morning,” Garrett adds.

  Grayson laughs. “Peg Bundy.”

  “Shut the hell up,” I tell them as I grab a plate and load it up with biscuits and sausage gravy.

  “You’re eating my cooking and telling me to shut up?” Gray asks.

  “Apparently,” I quip.

  “So, Phoenix Star...” he says.

  “She’s off limits.” I point a spoon at him.

  “Not last night at the club she wasn’t,” he reminds me.

  “Last night I was drunk.”

  Garrett stands up and walks to the window. I know damn well he wants out of here.

  “You good, Garrett?” I ask.

  “Six days without a line or piece of ass; how do you think I am?”

  “Gotten through the worst of it, man,” I remind him.

  He turns and looks at me. “I need to get the fuck out of this fish tank apartment and city.”

  “Where to?” Gray asks.

  “Somewhere I’m not gonna go into a bathroom and see people doing lines, and somewhere I don’t have to listen to you fuck all night long.” He points at me.

  “Didn’t know she was coming,” I tell him.

  Gray laughs. “You were the one making her.”

  I nod.

  I watch Garrett getting all kinds of itchy. I know we need to get out of here, and I know where we have to go. Only place that means anything to us.

  “Let’s get to the lake,” I tell them.

  “Everyone who puts me on edge is fucking there!” Garrett snaps.

  “Not at the old place,” I tell him.

  “You gonna stay with us?” Gray asks.

  “I will as much as possible.” I look back at Garrett. “Needs to happen.”

  “What am I gonna do, sit around and fish?” His laugh is one of annoyance.

  “No, Garrett, you’re gonna build a fence.”

  We spend the evening like we did as kids—fishing off the dock and cooking our own dinner. We talk about the fence and that Brand wants a horse. Garrett tells us he worked at a ranch for six months, and he would rather deal with horses than people.

  We talk like we did before all the shit went down when we were kids. We talk like men who are ready to fucking start over. We fucking talk like brothers.

  Hell, we are even in our old room with fucking flashlights. I warn Garrett that he better not try to scare Gray with those damn ghost stories, and Gray tells me he’s not afraid of the dark anymore. When he says it, I see in his eyes what he means.

  He watched a man die, and it haunted him for years. Now he knows the fucker deserved to die.

  Christ, I have wanted that for so long, but I go into it cautiously, knowing I am leaving Brand out of the equation because that’s when it fucking hurts.

  The generator isn’t running since it will make too much noise, alerting the others we are here. The plan for tomorrow is that I will go face them all, something I sure as fuck don’t want to do. However, in order to start fixing this fucking mess, it needs to be fucking done.

  It’s going to hurt worse than I can possibly imagine.

  But, for now, I have her to get me through it. And when I’m with her, I can’t think of another fucking thing but touching her, eating her, fucking her. From the first fucking time I saw her, I wanted her.

  Phoenix.

  I sent an ass-load of flowers to her this afternoon, and she hasn’t said one damn thing. Guess that goes beyond what we are.

  I laugh at myself. That’s a fucking lie. We could be so much more. I actually like her. And yeah, it sounds weird to say that about a girl.

  I lie in bed, fighting the urge to truck through the woods and make her give me a proper thank you. But the way she comes, without inhibition—the only way I want her to come—she would wake up the fucking hill.

  I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Back To Good

  Phoenix

  After visiting with Mags, dodging eye darts from Juliana, while being dragged around the house by Brand, and avoiding Gail, I am totally exhausted as I trek up the dirt road to my place.

  I sit on the steps to watch the sun go down and think of him.

  As difficult as it was to leave his bed this morning, and then come face to face with his brothers as I tried to escape undetected, I did the right damn thing.

  I felt I had some power in this—whatever it is between us. When we talked, I held my ground, even seemed to shake him a bit. I never really thought games were healthy in any relationship, never wanted to play them again, but this doesn’t feel like a game. It feels more like survival. And as much as I’m taking Mags’ advice and not fighting the fall, I’m also preparing for my ass to hit rock bottom.

  When I feel like I may fall asleep, I force myself to stand up.

  When I walk into the house and see a room full of flowers, I turn around and walk back out the door.

  Survival.

  I walk over to Mags’ and unlock her door. I walk through, kicking my sandals off before climbing into her bed, where I cry.

  I cry until I fall asleep.

  I wake to the bed dipping, and I’m am being rolled to my side. I smell him and know without even opening my eyes it’s him.

  “Squirt, have you been sipping the shine? Went to the wrong place last night.”

  I open my eyes, and he looks shocked.

  “What?” I grumble.

  He runs his fingers under my eyes. �
�You, uh...Your makeup, uh...”

  When he starts laughing, I push him, trying to get him away from me.

  “Fuck you, and fuck your flowers, Gage!”

  “Excuse me?” he gasps.

  “Don’t you do that shit to me. You and I, we fuck. We don’t do flowers. Hell, we don’t even talk.”

  “Apparently, we do fucking flowers,” he snaps. “And right now, we’re talking.”

  “I’m leaving in two months. Two.”

  He huffs, “So you think.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask, pushing him away again. “Never mind. Just go back to the city.”

  When my head is held tightly against his chest, I feel tears rolling down my cheeks.

  I push away and hop off the bed. I run out the door, across the driveway and into my place, looking straight down so I don’t see the flowers, and head straight to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

  As I wash the makeup off my face and brush my teeth, I hear a door slam and jump. I spit the toothpaste out of my mouth.

  “Get your ass out here.” He half-laughs, and my heart aches slightly.

  I missed the smile I imagine on his perfect fucking face.

  Fucking face...Damn him. Damn him!

  I pace back and forth, hoping to hear him exit, knowing damn well he’s not leaving.

  I give up and open the door, seeing him leaning against the counter with a single white rose in his hand, smelling it.

  Damn.

  I look away. If I don’t...I’m going to end up on my damn back again.

  The entire room is filled with flowers, all different kinds and colors. It’s beautiful. Totally beautiful. And my chest squeezes, feeling like it’s giving my heart a hug, or possibly attempting to strangle it slowly until it totally freaking explodes and poof, I’m gone.

  He pushes off the counter and sets the rose back in the vase he took it from. He steps closer, and my ache increases. Then he grabs a purple tulip out of the next vase and smells it before putting it back as well. He moves closer, and my nipples tighten. He takes a lily out of the next vase and smells it, a slight smile spreading across his face. He steps closer and hands it to me.

  I swallow hard and take it. “Thank you.”

  He nods. “That’s the scent that wafts through the air whenever you’re close, and even when you’re gone.”

  I have no idea what to say, so I don’t say a thing.

  “Smell it.”

  I do.

  “Smells good, doesn’t it?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “I’ve sent flowers before, Phoenix. Mags on birthdays and dates important to her; my mother the same; friends and their wives when they have a baby; Juliana on birthdays and anniversaries because that’s the right thing to do.”

  I nod, and he steps closer. My body tenses up.

  “Mags gets sunflowers because she loves those damn things. The others get whatever the florist suggests. You, I wanted something specific.” He turns and grabs another lily from the vase and smells it. “This. I just didn’t know what that smell was that is you. Still don’t know what it’s called, but it smells a hell of a lot like you.”

  “It’s a lily,” I tell him.

  “Glad I know that now. Didn’t when I ordered these.” He smells it again. “I know that lilies smell like you, and I fucking like the way they smell.”

  I have no idea what this means, and I don’t want to get some silly notion that it means anything more than what he said.

  “I know that you and I can’t be in the same fucking space alone without fucking, and that’s not a bad thing. Does make me feel like a fucking teenager again when I get hard whenever you’re around, and that needs to be worked on.”

  I want to tell him it doesn’t. It doesn’t need to be worked on. I want him to want me.

  He shakes his head as if he knows what I’m thinking. “I crave you, just as much as you crave me.”

  My throat is dry, so dry, and I’m almost certain that it’s because every ounce of liquid in my body is now in my panties.

  I swallow hard, and his eyes squint in a smile.

  He smells the flower again and puts it back. “Goddamn.” He adjusts himself, and I want nothing more than to be his hand.

  “You fuck with me hard, Phoenix Star, and not just physically. You know about my shit, and you don’t look at me differently. You fucking ran right toward me when you found out. You have a confidence about you that is sexy as fuck. You’re kind to others, except anyone you let into that heart of yours enemies. You fucking fuck with me, and I know damn well I do the same to you. So, your shit on the phone yesterday, about dick being dick, you know damn well that’s not true now.” He pauses, waiting for me to tell him it’s not true, so not fucking true.

  I just smile and look down.

  He sighs. “It’s almost July. That means, in two damn months, your lease is up. I’m not gonna be here every day, but I fucking hope you are. Because, not only am I wanting to be inside you all the damn time, I want you around. You. I want that, and asking for it is selfish as fuck.”

  Ask, I plead in my head.

  “It’s also selfish that I kind of need you here. Got a lot of shit to get through, and I brought that shit to my favorite place in the world—here, Falcon’s Landing. If you weren’t here, I’d hate the thought of it. But you are, and I know damn well I can get through it now.”

  I swallow back tears.

  “Stay. Stay until that ache goes away. Stay until you get pissed that I work too much. Stay until you think you might lose yourself. Just fucking stay and be mine for as long as you can stand me.”

  When he steps toward me, I know what’s coming. I want what’s coming.

  Instead, he kisses the top of my head, inhales deeply, and then steps back.

  He grabs a lily from the vase again and smells it. “You’ll get lilies, Phoenix Star. You’ll get that and more. Just gotta stay. And don’t you dare fucking change because of the hell this is gonna be.”

  He turns to walk away then stops. “This is me walking out the fucking door, dick hard as nails, because I’m gonna fucking show you that, as much as I want you under me, I want you to stay.”

  “Gage,” I call after him, and he stops. “Okay.”

  He turns and looks at me with a beautiful smile, one that lights up the entire place.

  I start to walk toward him, when he holds up his hand to stop me.

  “This is me trying to do the right thing.”

  I walk closer. “And this is me telling you that you have been.”

  “Good,” he says, taking a step back. “I’m fucking glad you think so, Phoenix, but you’re gonna get more. You’re gonna get a better man.” He starts to open the door.

  “Wait.”

  He smiles and looks up. “Lord, help me with this one.” Then he looks at me. “No one knows we’re here. Don’t tell them. I’ll see you after dark.”

  “Are you serious right now?” I ask, knowing full well I’m pouting.

  “Yeah, squirt, I am. Staying with my brothers at my folks’ old place down past the fence.”

  After a very cold shower and an attempt to remove the shit-ass grin off my face, I walk down to the big house. Before my feet hit the bottom step, the door flies open and Brand comes running out.

  “Come with me. I wanna show you something,” he says as he flies past me, taking my hand.

  There is no stopping him, so I don’t. I run beside him and out to the open field where he points left.

  “My dad’s building a fence.” His smile is so big and so genuinely happy.

  “That’s cool.” I smile back at him.

  “I told him I wanted a horse. I think that’s why he’s building it. Do you?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Mags says he has a crush on you, and that you have a crush on him. Is that true?”

  “Mags said that, did she?” I want to throttle her.

  “She says lots of things.
She’s funny.”

  “She sure is,” I agree, grateful that he changed the subject.

  “She likes you a lot.” He makes a face. “I’m sure when my mom and grandma get to know you, they will, too.”

  I laugh, and he does, too.

  “Wanna walk down there to the fence?” he asks.

  Shit, shit. That’s where Gage is.

  “I was thinking maybe you could teach me how to fish.”

  What the hell am I thinking?

  He grabs my hand again, pulling me behind him. “Come on!”

  I sit on the dock, fishing pole in hand, Brand next to me, and his grandmother on the other side of me. Mags is just off the dock, sitting in her “buggy” as she calls her electric wheelchair, and Juliana is pacing back and forth.

  Bitch.

  Brandon squints up at me. “You’ve never fished before?”

  “No, not once.”

  “Well, what did you do when you went camping and to the lake?”

  I shake my head. “Never went camping or to the lake.”

  “Some people aren’t as fortunate as you, Brandon,” Juliana says. “Lots and lots of people have very little.”

  Nails. Chalkboard. Cunt.

  “And some just don’t do the camping thing.” I smile at him, nice and brightly. “My parents took us once a year to Cambodia for a two-week vacation. They worked really, really hard running a business they started so they could support their family.”

  “Like Dad?” He smiles back.

  Ha, bitch.

  “Yep, like your da—Oh, no, no, no,” I say as my fishing pole bends.

  “You gotta reel it in.” Brandon laughs, excitement in his voice.

  “I gotta what?”

  “Want me to do it for you?” he asks, taking the pole without an answer.

  “Sure.” I can’t help smiling at his excitement.

  “I think it’s a big one.” He beams. “Mags, it’s a big one!” he calls over his shoulder.

  “Hors d'oeuvres big or dinner big?” she calls back.

  “Not sure, but I’m thinking dinner,” he answers.

  She laughs. “Well, let’s get it in here and see.”

  His grandmother, Gage’s mom, helps him. “Jerk back. You need to make sure it’s on the hook.”