by Lane Hart
“Come on,” I say when she remains standing beside the bed unmoving. “Ride me, and then you can bitch all you want.”
“You…you are –”
“Clock’s ticking,” I remind her. “Someone will be home soon, right? And then we’ll have to keep our hands to ourselves.”
With a muttered curse, Mina yanks her dress over her head and peels off her bathing suit.
“You’re gorgeous and so fucking sexy,” I tell her as she climbs up on the mattress.
“You are too,” she says while straddling me. “That’s the only reason I’m doing this. Oh, and for the orgasms, of course.”
Mina leans down and shoves her tongue into my mouth after her words cut me deeper than a bayonet. While I’m thrilled that she finds me attractive, it also sucks that she doesn’t want more between us other than the amazing sex.
Yet.
I’ve got a few more days to change that. And if sex is all I’ve got going for me right now, then so be it.
I may not be rich or smart like her asshole fiancé. And I may not be emotionally equipped for a normal relationship, especially with a woman I just met. But when I’m with Mina, none of that shit matters. She already owns all of my senses.
My entire life I was wandering around blind until the moment I saw her. The sound of her voice is the sweetest I’ve ever heard. I want her soothing lavender scent to seep into my pores and never leave. I’m addicted to her skin, the softest, most perfect ivory other than the marks I want to kiss better over the curves of her ass. And her taste...well, there’s no drug in the world that could give me a greater rush than the one I get when I run my tongue over hers or use it to coerce the pleasure from her pussy.
With a groan, my eyes roll into the back of my head as Mina lowers herself down, a slow inch at a time, on my cock. I had no idea bareback could feel so much better than the latex I always used the few occasions in my youth. Now that I’ve experienced being inside Mina without a barrier, I’m not sure if I could ever go back to using condoms again.
Grasping her ass in each of my palms, I squeeze them to bounce her faster on my cock. When she whimpers into my mouth, I stupidly remember the marks and let go, moving my hands up to her hips.
Allergy, my ass.
“Derek didn’t hurt me,” she says as if sensing my disbelief.
“Don’t say his fucking name while I’m inside of you,” I warn her.
Grabbing her left hand from my chest, I take her ring finger into my mouth and slide the fucking diamond ring off with my teeth before spitting it out. It lands somewhere at the foot of her bed.
Mina’s mouth opens to protest but I don’t give her a chance. Instead, I thrust my hips upward and grip hers tightly to slam her down on my dick so hard she moans, a sound of pleasure not pain. So I do it again and again until her body tenses and her pussy tightens and pulses around my shaft.
Whether or not she’s telling the truth about Derek, I’m not entirely sure. But if he didn’t hurt her bottom, who did? Is there some other guy she’s fucking around with on the side? She’s screwing me just days before her wedding, so it wouldn’t really be that much of a stretch. The thought makes my impending orgasm vanish into thin air.
“Who else are you fucking?” I ask Mina while she pants above me, trying to recover from her orgasm. As soon as her head falls forward, her long, dark waves hiding her face and puddling on my chest I know I’ve hit the mark.
Motherfucker.
There’s someone else. This, whatever this is between us, is nothing more than casual sex to her! Damn, I’ve been a fucking fool.
Gripping her chin between my finger and thumb to raise her face, I ask her through clenched teeth, “Who. Is. He?”
“Ow. Let…let me go. Y-you’re hurting me,” she says, her hands trying to pry mine off her face.
Goddamn it. I didn’t mean to hurt her. Again.
I let go of her chin and lift her by her hips to toss her body over onto the mattress next to me so I can get off the bed. Digging through my duffle bag, I find a pair of jeans and start pulling them up my legs and over my still hard cock. Even being angry as fuck at her doesn’t deflate it.
“Wh-where are you going?” Mina asks my back.
“This is done!” I tell her, unable to even look at her, especially when she’s naked. I yank a shirt on over my head, needing to escape. “You’re un-fucking-believable, telling me to fuck you without a condom when you’re screwing who the hell knows how many assholes!”
In a hurry to get out of this goddamn room and even this house, I shove my feet into my boots without socks, grab my phone and wallet before heading for the door.
“Patrick, wait! Please!” Mina calls out. Then she’s scrambling naked off the bed and falling to her knees, blocking my only exit unless I plan to jump out the second-story window. When her fists clench the waistband of my jeans, I curse to the ceiling and reach down to peel them off me.
“Please! It’s-it’s not what you think!”
Gritting my teeth, I do what I know is stupid and look down at her face. Tears are racing down both of her cheeks, telling me she’s either really upset or one hell of an actress.
“So what the fuck is it?” I ask her.
Her hands fall from me as she sags into a sobbing puddle on the floor. “It was over…before you came…I-I hate him and don’t want him! Never did…”
“Who?” I ask. She shakes her head, refusing to tell me.
With a sniffle, she says, “Doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It fucking matters to me,” I tell her.
“Please don’t leave,” she says softly, her head still bowed.
Fuck.
I don’t know what’s going on, but I know I can’t walk away from Mina. Rubbing my hands over my face, I try to think through all this shit.
“How did you get the marks on your ass?” I ask her, since that’s what started everything. “The truth.”
“He hit me with a belt,” she replies. “Twelve. Thirteen times.”
“You didn’t want it?”
She sniffles and shakes her head. “No. It hurt. Really bad.” The way her voice cracks tells me that’s the honest truth. She isn’t into some whipping kink.
“Your asshole fiancé doesn’t know any of this?” I ask.
“No. I told him it’s an allergy.”
How could he not figure out someone was hurting her and put an end to it? Worthless prick.
And she trusts me enough to tell me this shit but not the man she’s supposed to marry? While I want more answers, I already know I could stand here all day, and she wouldn’t give me any.
“And you swear you’re done with him?” I ask.
She nods.
“If he ever hurts you again, will you tell me so that I can make him bleed?”
After several long moments, she remains unresponsive, unmoving.
“Mina? Answer me. Whether it’s next week or in ten years, you tell me if someone hurts you and I’ll make him pay, you hear me? No one is allowed to hurt you.”
She nods.
“Okay,” I grumble. “But I still need to leave, to try and calm down. Can I take your car?”
“Yes,” she answers right away, wiping away the tears underneath her eyes. “Keys are still in it.”
“Thanks,” I say, remembering that her man said she won’t even let him drive her ride. “I’ll see you later.”
…
Mina
After Patrick walks out, I pull myself off the floor and find my engagement ring, placing it reluctantly back on my finger before I head to the shower. In there, I let the hot water and soap wash away the grit of my self-disgust.
I still don’t know how Patrick figured it out. Guess I shouldn’t have argued with his assumption that Derek put the marks on me, and then I wouldn’t have started spilling my guts.
But seeing Patrick leave thinking I was more of a slut than I am…I couldn’t take it. God, I already miss him, and he probably hasn’t even
left the property yet. What the hell is wrong with me?
Is this attraction or…obsession with Patrick just a symptom of my cold feet? If so, my toes must be on ice blocks because I don’t like the idea of even a temporary separation from Patrick. I’ve got to do something about all this desire I’m drowning in for that man before it gets worse. The best thing would’ve been to let Patrick leave with him thinking the worst of me, putting some separation between us.
I couldn’t do it.
Thinking of losing him was too scary. It’s not fair to keep stringing him along, but I seriously doubt he’s looking for anything more than a few fucks. He would never want me if he knew the truth about his father. Patrick would only see me as a dirty slut or simply too tainted. That’s why I can’t ever tell him who put the marks on me.
Once I’m dressed and finish drying my hair, I hear my mother singing downstairs. She always sounds so happy, and I hate it. Most of the time I hate her. She’s content living in all the wealth Mike provides, wasting time with her social clubs, while several nights a week I’m the one left to suffer through the abuse. Hell, she’s probably happy because she never has to have sex with him. He gets home late, leaves early. She’s got it made. And I fucking hate her.
I’m too young to think about having kids, but I know one thing for sure --- no one will ever harm a hair on any of their heads without me there defending them. After seeing how protective Patrick acted just now, I can’t imagine that he would put up with any sort of shit with someone hurting his children either. But for whatever reason, I’m not able to say the same thing for Derek. He’s a sweet guy, almost too nice and sort of wimpy. Could he stand up to someone hurting one of our children? He barely looks like an adult himself. That’s probably why I was first drawn to him when I was a sophomore, and he was a senior. He looked safe and was so mild-mannered. Some would say he’s a pushover, but I liked the fact that he couldn’t ever overpower me.
With Patrick’s size and military training, he’s probably strong enough to single-handedly take down a small army, and yet he doesn’t intimidate me. In fact, I find his strength sexy, because he’s the type of man to die protecting his country or those he cares about.
Forget prince charming. He was probably a spoiled little bitch who depended on his army to keep him safe while he stayed hidden, tucked away in his castle. If my life were a fairy tale, I would rather win the heart of the humble warrior.
“Oh, Wilhelmina. I didn’t know you were home. Where’s your car?” my mother asks when she starts to walk past my bedroom where I’m writing about my ideal fantasy man in my journal.
“Patrick needed it,” I say simply.
“Hope he brings it back,” she huffs.
“Don’t be a bitch, Mom,” I retort.
She scoffs indignantly, crossing her arms over her plastic chest. “Watch your mouth, young lady.”
“If Patrick wanted Mike’s money, don’t you think he would’ve been kissing Mike’s ass for years instead of showing up out of the blue?” I ask, the kiss his ass like you part going unsaid.
After my dad up and left us, we were broke, about to be evicted from our two-bedroom home, and then along comes this seemingly wonderful man with boatloads of money. Mom jumped right on Mike and his fortune. Maybe I’m cynical, but I can’t help but wonder if Mike only rushed to marry my mother because he knew she was so damn desperate and offered up two young daughters the pervert could easily prey upon.
“You never really know what anyone is capable of,” Mom says with a shrug, still being disrespectful of Patrick.
“Sure don’t. Especially family,” I add.
“Exactly,” she says, completely missing my jab at her and her wonderful husband. “But he is your stepbrother, and we do need another groomsman to balance the two sides of the altar.”
“What?” I snap.
“Tomorrow’s your final dress fitting. I’m sure Diane can round up a rental tux or something for Patrick to wear.”
“You’re kidding, right?” I ask.
“No. He’s family. He should be in the wedding party,” she says before walking off.
Great. How he went from thief to having a role in the wedding in her mind, I’m not sure. Can’t wait to tell Patrick the news. While he may hate the idea, I sort of like knowing he’ll be nearby for all the festivities.
Ever since I’ve met Patrick, there’s been even more doubt about whether or not I should marry Derek. On the other hand, imagining staying in this house more than a moment longer than necessary after Bridgette leaves for college Sunday seems more painful than getting hit head-on by a speeding train.
This is my only chance of escape, and not even the temptation Patrick offers is enough for me to sacrifice that. He’s probably already counting the hours until he can go home, leaving Florida and his family behind again for another eight years. Why would I expect this time to be any different? He has his own life up north while I have to stay here, keeping an eye on Bridgette to make sure she’s safe even after I move out.
Being with Patrick is amazing, but a future with him is…impossible.
Chapter Twelve
Trick
My cell phone starts buzzing, so I pull Mina’s car over into a shopping center to answer. Removing the device from my jean pocket, the caller ID shows that it’s Jude.
I have to flip my phone open to answer since it’s one of those cheap ass ones.
“Tell me something good,” I answer.
“I’m holding in my hand an IFC contract with your name on it,” Jude says cheerfully, and I hear papers rattling in the background.
“Hell yes! Tell me details,” I say with a relieved grin.
“Three years, at least five fights, starting at a hundred grand each and multiplying with every win.”
“No shit?” I ask with a chuckle, my jaw falling open as I try to picture all the zeros.
“No shit. It’s the real deal. The IFC was seriously impressed with you during the tournament. Looks like your first fight is in March and will be televised.”
“Whew. That’s great. I needed some good news today,” I tell him.
“Family drama?” he asks.
“You have no fucking idea,” I answer, resting the back of my head against the car’s leather headrest.
“Hit me,” he says.
When I first joined Havoc, I thought for sure the guys would give me shit since they’ve been Nate’s boys for years and he and I had the whole falling out over Alyssa. I couldn’t have been more wrong. They didn’t treat me any different than all the other guys. It’s one tight-knit family they have there. Linc and Jude have been nothing but supportive, helping me however they can with techniques and training the whole time. While I still haven’t completely lightened up around them, I consider them all my friends, so I decide to lay my drama on him. Get everything off my chest.
“Well,” I start. “The guys and I went to a club here Saturday night.”
“Yeah, I heard. Good time?”
“Uh-huh. I hooked up with this girl, right? Shit, this is gonna sound so fucked up. Can you keep it to yourself or at least not run your mouth to anyone but your boy?” I ask him bluntly. Jude and Linc have a tight bromance. Since they’re business partners and best friends, they tell each other everything that goes on with the guys and the gym like a couple of mother hens.
“Yeah, yeah. Linc’s in my office with the door shut, so let me put him on speaker.” The sounds of the room grows louder when he hits the button. “Okay, so tell us what happened,” Jude says.
“The girl I hooked up with, well, it turns out she’s my stepsister.”
“Holy fuck,” Linc mutters at the same time Jude says, “No way.”
“Yeah, and while that’s crazy as fuck, that’s not the worst of it.”
“Seriously?” Jude asks.
“She’s the one getting married Saturday.”
“Jesus,” Linc says. “Sounds kinda shady, bro. I mean, if my woman was messin’ around with
some guy the week before our weddin’ I would’ve known and he would’ve been a dead man.”
“Shit, I know. But you guys haven’t seen her…she’s, God, she’s gorgeous, and you’d never think she has a malicious bone in her sexy body.”
“Sounds like you’re getting in too deep, Trick,” Jude warns. “Think about how you would feel if you were the groom, man.”
“Oh, I have,” I tell them. “That’s why I’m gonna try and end this shit.”
Double groans come over the phone line.
“Call me if, or more like when, you get locked up and need legal counsel,” Jude says. “My sister-in-law, Page, is an attorney.”
“My dad is too, a criminal defense attorney actually. But it won’t come to that,” I assure them. “She doesn’t love him, and he’s not the one for her.”
“Let me guess --- but you think you are?” Linc asks.
“Maybe. Better than that scrawny bastard,” I reply.
“Just be careful, man,” Jude warns. “If you get any charges, you can kiss this sweet contract goodbye before you even sign it.”
“I’m not gonna do anything stupid.”
“You already have,” Linc says. “Listen, love can make you do seriously stupid shit. Just try and keep your head on straight. You’ve got one helluva deal on the table, and it would be a shame for you to lose it.”
“Yeah, I hear you,” I grumble.
“Whatever happens, you need to get back to Cary by Monday, Tuesday at the latest to go over this contract with an agent and finalize any negotiations to meet the IFC deadline of Wednesday,” Jude says. “And you’re gonna have to hit the training hard to make up for this week of vacay.”
“I’ll be back Monday,” I say and then cringe when I think of leaving Florida, leaving Mina so soon. “Tuesday at the latest.”
“Stay the fuck out of trouble,” Linc warns.
“Will do.”
“See you next week,” Jude tells me before they disconnect the call.
…
Mina
After I catch up with everything in my journal, I lock it and toss it in the shoebox, burying it in one of the moving boxes. I can’t believe Bridgette and I are finally getting out of this place in just a few more days.
