Feral

by Teagan Kade

  I don’t want to end this, or have her pull back, but I don’t want her to expect more than I know how to give.

  Her face is hard to read in the dark. I’m expecting a tirade. I deserve it. I’m an asshole for taking her virginity then turning around and telling her I don’t know how to be in a relationship.

  Instead, I feel Jeanie’s foot sliding on my calf. “To be totally honest, I don’t know that I’m any expert on relationships either. I’ve only had one boyfriend, and as you saw from that first day we met, it didn’t go particularly well. Maybe we both need practice?”

  Practice, huh?

  The idea of getting her ready for someone else doesn’t sit well with me. I feel a strong possessiveness that’s not at all familiar.

  “I just don’t want to hurt you,” I say, meaning it.

  “Well, I’m a big girl… Want me to show you?” she says, dipping her head to my stomach and kissing along the lines of my stomach.

  Her hair fans across my stomach and the sight of her like that has me straining again. She wants practice and I can certainly provide her plenty of that. At least I can be good for something.

  *

  There are far worse things to be good for, I’m learning.

  Jeanie keeps the shop running smoothly, an unspoken agreement between us to keep things professional at work… mostly, anyway.

  Having her around still has me in a near-constant state of arousal, but I’m finding I work with much more precision and efficiency, flying through jobs, when I know I get to practice with Jeanie after work.

  Working in such close proximity to her is almost foreplay on its own.

  I’m working under the hood of a car and feel her eyes on me. I look up and meet them, daring her to turn away.

  “That feeling when we kiss, the way your body moves. No matter how much I get, I’m always craving you.”

  The country song plays over the speakers and I suspect it’s not an accident. My body responds. I fight the urge to stride over and take her there, against the counter.

  It’s my business, after all, nothing to stop me.

  Except the fact you don’t want expectations and having the Reverend or some old busybody catch you, won’t exactly be good for that… or business for that matter.

  I settle for stolen moments—coming up behind her while she’s working at the counter and standing just a little too close, breathing in the smell of her. Taking a box from her and letting my hands slide up her arms, savoring the feel of her skin against mine.

  The heat builds between us and, when she gets off work at the diner, I wait for her. Hands locked together, we race towards my car behind the shop like outlaws fleeing the scene of the crime, headed towards the spoils of our plunder.

  Sometimes we even make it all the way back to my place. Other times, I pull off onto a backroad, park beneath the stars, and test our flexibility in the close quarters of the car.

  “I’d like to photograph you,” she says one night, as we’re twisted together in my bed.

  “Oh?” I say, surprised.

  “Maybe I could make a hot mechanic calendar,” she says, teasingly.

  I mimic a pinup pose and she laughs, pretending to snap a photo with an imaginary camera. “Perfect, we can replace the pinups above your bench.”

  “Mmm, you’d look sexy as a pinup and a much better replacement for my calendar,” I say, kissing my way down her stomach. “Then again, I’m not sure I want anyone else seeing you like that… or this,” I say, tasting her, caressing her with my tongue.

  I’m drunk on watching her face as the range of earnest, unbridled feeling plays across it when she comes for me.

  Seeing her back in the shop in the light of day, composed and innocent, is like some kind of erotic torture. All I can think about is getting her back in my hands, under me, over me, around me.

  I’m in the garage working. Jeanie has just left and I’m smiling to myself, humming along to the music she left on, when the phone rings.

  I walk over to the bench and pull it out. It’s my old phone, but I’m too distracted to pay attention to details like that.

  “You’ve got Mason,” I answer, still grinning.

  “Mason Beckett?” a woman’s voice asks from the other end.

  “Yes, who is this?” I ask, growing nervous.

  “Hello, my name is Claire VanMeter.”

  VanMeter. The name is familiar.

  “I’m sorry, are you a former client?”

  “No, I’m Madeline VanMeter’s mother. You attended Abbottsleigh at the same time.”

  Shit.

  “Yes, that’s right. I do recall your daughter, though we were not directly acquainted,” I tell her honestly.

  “So, you’re familiar with what happened at the Omega Pi Spring Mixer? I heard you may be able to help me. I’m trying to get information about that night.”

  A few minutes later, I hang up the phone, feeling shaky and wondering if this is Buddy’s way of sending me a message. He doesn’t seem the type to sacrifice himself to get a dig in at someone else, but I don’t know him now… Maybe I never did.

  If this is his way of getting under my skin, it’s proving effective.

  I go to the diner to eat, troubled and looking to escape the demons chasing me. Jeanie is throwing me looks, leaning over me as she refills my cup.

  She whispers as she passes by. “I’m getting off early tonight, which should leave us plenty of time to practice… a few times.”

  She’s a quick learner. Her tastes have turned out to be a touch rougher than I would have guessed. I’m loving acting as her erotic guide of sorts. There is so much more I want to explore with her.

  But the grinning idiot who answered that phone earlier, who thought he had finally gotten a shot at a different kind of life, is gone.

  I watch her working as this sinking feeling in my stomach registers, and I realize this thing with Jeanie really has no future, never really did. I’ll let it run its course, but I can already see the end from here.

  I am never going to escape my past; this weight would hang over me for the rest of my life. Fighting it was useless. The amends I never made have caught up to me. Not even a wholesome, perfect girl like Jeanie could fix all the damaged parts of my soul.

  I need to call Buddy, take the job, and stop deluding myself I had ever really broken free. All the blackest marks on my soul can be traced back to him. Fitting then, that he’d be the one to drag me back to hell with him.

  I start calculating what I need to do to get Jerry’s car fixed before I leave. It’s the least I can do, but it’s not even a drop in the bucket of what I wish I could do.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JEANIE

  “Crank & Wrench, this is Jeanie,” I say, answering the phone.

  “Hey, Jeanie. Mike here, over at O’Malley’s. Listen darlin’, I’m callin’ ’cause Bill just came on through with a package for ‘The Crack Wench’ with an address that comes darn near close to yours. Looks to be from Pontiac Automotive. Now I ain’t no detective, but seems to me this here package just might be for y’all down there.”

  I laugh. “Well, that’s a creative twist. It would make an interesting business card.”

  His smoker’s laugh crackles through the phone. “Way I hear, y’all are busy enough down there, but if that changes, I s’pose that’d be one way to drum up s’more business. Anyway, I’ll hold it here for y’all, if you can swing by sometime this week.”

  “No problem, Mike. I’ll come by in a few minutes. I think Mason’s been waiting on that delivery. Thanks.”

  We hang up and I grab my jacket. It’s still early and there is a faint late spring chill in the air. I duck my head into the garage and call to Mason.

  “I’ve got to run down to O’Malley’s Hardware. Bill, the old postman, left one of your packages there. Apparently, it was mislabeled. I’ll be back in fifteen.”

  He’s on his back under a car, and for a fleeting moment I’m tempted to unzip his p
ants and straddle him. It’s hard keeping my mind on anything else when I’m around him.

  “Okay,” he grunts.

  I could stand here for hours watching him work, but I force myself out the door and towards O’Malley’s.

  The package is fairly small, though heavy, and there is a plastic sleeve with paperwork on the front of it. I’m balancing the package in my arm, reading through the paperwork when I get a bad feeling.

  I hear the growl of an engine from behind and turn around to see Clint’s lifted Big Mama behind me. My stomach drops.

  So much for hoping he’d finally moved on.

  I keep walking, speeding up as I hear the heavy door slam closed and his boots on the pavement behind me.

  “Oh Jeanie-doll, you can’t avoid me forever,” he says, outpacing me and blocking my path forward.

  I can just make out the open garage door to the shop down the street, so close, but his hulking frame is blocking my way.

  I sigh. “Clint. And here I thought you were finally starting to grow up.”

  He’s got chew in his lip. He stops to spit out brown liquid onto the sidewalk before he speaks.

  “You got a real mouth on you. It’d look real pretty on my dick,” he says.

  Is that supposed to be a come-on?

  “Go to hell, Clint,” I say, trying to shove past him.

  He catches my arm and pushes me back, the edge in his voice raising the hair on my neck. “You know I’ve put too much time into you for that. I waited for you to come ’round, to see things my way, but it’s about goddamned time you get over this bullshit. You promised me something and it’s about time you ponied up.”

  “I don’t owe you anything, Clint. Frankly, I’m amazed you even took notice, considering how busy you were sleeping with half the cheerleading squad.”

  He smiles. “I’m a red-blooded man, what the hell do you expect? Maybe if you’d put out I’d give you my full attention.”

  “I’m done with this, Clint. It’s been three years. Now, I have things to do. How much clearer do I need to be? Leave me alone. I’m never going to take you back. You had your chance and you lost it.”

  His chest is puffing up, his lip curling. He has that look he’d get right before a big game, all jacked up and ready to plow someone over.

  “You’re so fuckin’ full of shit. Actin’ all high and mighty like you’re saving yourself for somethin’ special, but I’ve seen you with that goddamned mechanic. Tell me now, are you fucking him?”

  My face flushes with anger as I realize he’s been watching me.

  “Fuck off, Clint,” I say through clenched teeth as I try to pass again.

  “Son of a bitch. You are. Fucking whore!” he shouts, grabbing me by the lapels of my jacket.

  I give a startled yelp. “Stop it, Clint,” I say, trying to break free of his grip.

  He’s pushed me against the brick wall and his voice is full of rage. For the first time, I’m worried the former Golden Boy of Silver Springs High might actually get abusive with me.

  “No, I don’t think I will stop, Jeanie-doll. I was supposed to pop that sweet little cherry of yours but you had to go throw some bitch fit, keeping me waiting. And I did. I fucking waited for your ass! For what? So you could go and spread your slut legs for that grease monkey?”

  “Get your hands off her… now!” I hear the deep timbre of Mason’s voice from behind Clint.

  Only he doesn’t let go of me, just turns and fires back. “Stay the fuck out of this!”

  Over Clint’s shoulder I can see Mason. His eyes are savage with fury. Every muscle in his body looks tensed like a predator ready to pounce.

  “No, I don’t think I will,” he says, walking up.

  As he does, Clint finally drops my jacket, recognizing the threat Mason poses. I scramble away along the wall as Mason puts himself between Clint and me.

  “What? You out here to defend your little whore?”

  “Get the hell out of here and stay away from Jeanie,” Mason says. Though his voice is a lot quieter than Clint’s it sounds a heck of a lot more dangerous.

  “Or what? What are you going to do about it, bitch? You’re the one who came in here and cock-slammed my girl. Now you want to get in the middle of this like some kind of punk?”

  “I’m not here for a fight, but I’m not going to tell you twice.”

  The air feels electric. I’m terrified this is going to turn violent. Rashly, I step in front of Mason. “Just go, Clint. Get out of here and leave us alone.”

  “Shut the fuck up, cunt,” he says, shoving me back hard against the wall. My feet are tangled and I almost crash into the brick, but Mason catches me with his right arm, buffering my fall.

  It feels like I’m watching it all in slow motion.

  “You want the slut, fine, but you’re gonna pay first!” Clint raises his fist and takes a swing at Mason.

  With his free left arm he manages to block the brunt of the blow. Letting me go, Mason turns and lands a right-hand uppercut to Clint’s jaw.

  Clint stumbles backwards, the light post preventing him from falling. He straightens and balls his fists. His face and ears are scarlet. He charges at Mason.

  Mason turns sideways, catching Clint by the back of his jacket. Clint swings out, but Mason loops an arm around his neck, anchoring him there in a choke hold.

  Clint grabs at Mason’s arm, struggling, but loses his momentum in a flash. Mason lets go just as Clint’s eyes start to droop.

  Breathing hard, Clint backs up, throwing his hands up in wordless surrender. A handful of people have come out of the surrounding shops to see what’s causing the ruckus.

  Mason turns to me. “Are you okay?”

  I nod and he offers me a hand, walking me back quickly to the shop.

  We go inside and he locks the door, turning the sign to ‘Closed.’

  “I don’t think he’ll come back right now, but I’d rather slow him down if he tries,” he says, going to the garage to close and lock the doors.

  I’m leaning back against the counter, processing what just happened when he comes up to me and tilts my face to his.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? Did he hurt you at all?”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m okay, really. I’m sorry… I can’t believe he would do that.”

  Mason’s voice is quiet. His eyes flash as he asks, “Has he ever hurt you before?”

  “No, not at all. I mean, not physically. This is so insane… We dated three years ago. Three years!”

  “What happened?”

  I exhale. “It’s all so stupid. He was star of the football team and I was a wallflower. He probably would have dumped me, we never really matched, but I made the mistake of telling him I was a virgin. It became this obsession with him, even though he was sleeping with other girls all the while. I don’t understand how he hasn’t let it go, after all this time.”

  I’m shaking my head in disbelief. Mason pulls me into his arms, stroking my back.

  My head against the hard wall of his chest, I realize I’m still trembling slightly.

  “He’s been following me. That’s how he knew about us. I used to see his truck outside the diner, but I was never completely sure and I never thought he’d become violent like that. I thought with time it’d get better, but now he knows we’ve been together, I don’t even know what he’s capable of anymore.”

  “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you,” Mason says, his voice soothing. “He’s not going to get anywhere near you again, I promise.”

  It’s the first promise he’s made to me. I haven’t wanted to press him about us, not really sure I knew what it was I even wanted. The moment feels strangely powerful, though.

  I look up at him, still rattled and searching his eyes, wondering what exactly he’s committing to. He puts a hand to my cheek and I close my eyes, relaxing against it.

  “Look at me. I swear to you, no one is going to hurt you,” he says.

  I nod at his words.


  He kisses my forehead, my cheek, my lips and all the intensity of the moment explodes.

  After seeing him defending me like that, hearing him promise to protect me, all the upset within me dissolves into a powerful surge of lust.

  I want him. Now.

  I pull his face down to me in a rabid kiss, feeling a sudden boldness I’ve never known. I back into the garage, pulling him by the shirt front with me. Bumping into the metal of the work bench, I hop up, sitting myself on the wide flat top, pulling him towards me and cradling his hips between my legs.

  Next time he comes to this work bench, I’m going to make sure it’s not the pinup girls he’ll be dreaming about.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MASON

  “Take me, Mason. Right here. I’m not waiting ten hours to have you. I want you now,” Jeanie says breathily into my ear as she’s unbuttoning my shirt and scoring my shoulders with her nails.

  She’s so impossibly hot right now. She’s positioned herself on the workbench, wrapped those sexy long legs around me, lashing me to her. I can feel the heat radiating from between her legs.

  All the adrenaline coursing through me is raging for release, to take her hard and rough. I want the garage to echo with her screams.

  Seeing that sack of shit put his hands on Jeanie—the fury was nearly blinding. Luckily for him I wasn’t about to pound the pavement with his face in front of Jeanie, much as I wanted to bash his idiot head in. If he comes around her again, though, keeps this stalking bullshit up, it’s going to be a much different ending.

  For now, I’ve got her in my arms and that’s enough. There is this burning need in me to make her mine, to possess her in the most primal sense. I want to see her spread out, naked before me, while I make her come, while I enter her slick heat.

  My shirt has fallen to the floor and her quick, hungry hands have undone my fly. She’s got a hand wrapped around my hard-on. The way her strong, smooth fingers are stroking me, I don’t know how long I’ll last.

  I start to pull back. “We need protection. I’ll be right back. Don’t move a muscle. Then again, if you want to start on yourself, that would be pretty hot to watch.”