“Ronnie,” Thorn said. “As in… five hours away Ronnie?”
“Exactly,” I said. I stuck my hand into my pocket and pulled out cash. “Here’s what you do. Hunter is giving you a list of parts we need. Ronnie will give you shit about it. Tell him to fuck himself. Stop and get some whiskey and a carton of smokes. I’ll call him ahead with what we need. But you know him. He loves his junkyard more than his dick.”
“You sure about this?” Andy asked.
“We have no choice,” I said. “Take this cash. Go enjoy yourselves. There’s a strip club you’ll like. Ask for Big Dan. Tell him I sent you. Trust me, you’ll thank me later. If you run into a guy named Pete, don’t mention me.”
“You owe him money?” Andy asked.
“No. I fucked his wife.”
“Jesus,” Thorn said. “You have no boundaries.”
“This cash should be enough for gas, food, pussy, and parts. If not, charge what you can and bring me the receipt. Stay punched in until you get back.”
“Boss man,” Andy said. “That’s too much.”
“No it’s not. We have people relying on us. Now go.” I looked at Hunter. “Happy now?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
I walked away.
I kept myself hidden in my office, staring at the calendar. Dates didn’t mean much to me, but there were a few that struck me. There was one coming up really fucking soon. It would sink its teeth into me like a poisonous animal and linger for days.
God help anyone in my path during this time.
I reached for the calendar and ripped it off the wall. I stepped on it, leaving a huge black footprint. Half on the dates and half on the mostly naked woman leaning over a motorcycle.
I’d rather ride the motorcycle…
I left the shop and went for a ride.
I then talked to Hunter. Everything was smooth. I gave Ronnie a quick call. He was pissed that I was bothering him and that my guys were going to be digging around in his parts. But he caved after a few minutes. Ronnie was a good man. He understood me. He understood the way the world worked. Not just by circling the sun and spinning to waste time. But by trying to dodge out of the way of the knife each time it came at you. And sometimes no matter what you did that knife would catch you.
I stopped for a pizza and a six pack and then called it a fucking day.
If I went to a bar I would have brought something new home to play with for the night. But my mind seemed to be a little one track.
I wanted to play with Violet.
Her name was as precious as she looked. Innocence radiated off her in a way I never saw on someone before. The perfect girl. The good girl. But I knew inside every good girl was a bad girl using her sex claws, wanting to get out.
The thing though… I had no fucking clue the storm I was about to kick up…
I sat in the hallway and finished another beer.
Violet finally came home.
She walked the hallway, those little hips bouncing left to right, counting the seconds as blood rushed to my dick.
“Uh, hey,” she said.
Her cheeks were flush and she tried to look away.
“How was your day, babe?” I asked.
“Fine.”
She turned at her door and fumbled with her keys. She jammed a key into the lock and it wouldn’t turn. When she took the key out, she dropped the entire keyring.
“Shit,” she said as she bent over.
Hello ass in my face.
I bit into my pizza and gave a nod. Her jeans cupped her ass in a way that I was actually jealous of her back pockets for a few seconds.
“Not a bad view at all out here,” I said.
Violet gasped and stood up, spinning around. “What do you want, Mason?”
“Now we can get to business,” I said. “But before that… you used the wrong key. Your heart belong somewhere else?”
“What? No. It’s my old place.”
“You kept the key?”
“I can still go there.”
“Ah,” I said. “Your boyfriend booted you, huh? What happened? He find someone a little crazier between the sheets? You wouldn’t give up the backdoor I bet. You have that look. See, the trick is to just bite into a pillow and let it happen. Relax a little. Just my advice.”
The look of disgust on Violet’s face was priceless. I should have gotten a picture of her. That look was generally my lasting impression on women. I took pride in it.
I stuffed my mouth full of more pizza, chewed, swallowed, drank beer, and burped.
“Real nice,” Violet said. “For the record, asshole, I was living with my friend Victoria. I made enough money to get my own place. So whatever you think you’re doing right now, just stop.”
“You lived with another woman,” I said. “I’m picturing that in my mind. Pillow fights in your undies and bras. Experimenting with each other. I bet you let her touch you, huh? You didn’t use that vibrator. Fuck no. You used her fingers.”
“You’re disgusting. I hope you go to jail for hitting that guy.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry, babe. I got off all charges. And speaking of getting off, come over here. Let me tell you a story without talking.”
“Just stay on your side of the hallway and your apartment. I don’t want to see you or talk to you, Mason. I already thanked you for what you did.”
“But you still owe me.”
“Is that what you do? Trade favors for sex?”
“What else would we trade?”
“Gross,” Violet said.
She could play it all she wanted, but I could see deep in her eyes she was intrigued. She turned and got the right key in the lock.
“Why are you sitting out here anyway?” she asked with her door open.
I leaned to my right and looked into her apartment. Perfectly pristine. It screamed good girl in the worst way possible. I hated everything about the apartment. Shit, maybe I even hated her.
“I’m enjoying the view,” I said.
“Whatever.”
Violet shut the door. I pointed at the main lock and then at the deadbolt. They both clicked shut.
I smiled.
I had to be honest.
The person that lived there before Violet was some dude who worked in finance. He moved in, hated me, and then found a woman. He would knock on my door over the dumbest shit so I would do dumb shit to piss him off. When I finally reached my breaking point, I clocked him in the nose and a week later he moved out.
It was amazing what my hands did.
If I hit a guy, he listened to me. I controlled him. I had all the fucking power I wanted. And if I didn’t, I’d keep hitting until I got it.
If I was with a woman, my hands did other things, bringing them ecstasy in a way that they would only moan my name as they came all over my fingers. Of course, my fingers were prequel to my tongue and they only made way for my huge cock to take care of the rest.
I finished another slice of pizza and twisted off the cap of beer number six.
Violet’s door opened and she stood with a basket of laundry. She let out a yell when she saw me still there.
“Really?” she asked.
I winked. “The view just got so much better again.”
“Fuck off.”
“Come here. I’ll fucking get you off. I know you’re aching for it, babe. Slide those pants down and open your legs a little. I don’t need much room to get my razor tongue between your lips. Find that clit of yours and just go to town. I promise you… you’ll leave scratch marks in the walls that could only be repaired by sanding the wall down and repainting it.”
“You’re so full of confidence, Mason,” Violet said. “But I think you’re full of shit. You just want attention.”
I forced myself to stand. The beer was feeling good inside me. But Violet was feeling better. At least in my mind. Running my hands down her face. Touching her waist. Finding out just how supple those tits of hers were. Fuck, they filled out the top of
her shirt really nice.
“Yeah, maybe I want attention,” I said. “But I want your orgasm, babe. I want your pleasure. I’m going to get it.”
“Are you threatening me?”
I laughed. “Not even close, babe. Go do your laundry like a good girl. The basement gets a little scary. Need me to walk you down?”
“No,” Violet said without hesitation.
I glanced down at her clothes and right on top was a pink thong.
I nodded. “Not bad.”
Violet realized what I was looking at and she hurried to stir up the clothes. Then she got away from me, telling me one more time that I was an asshole. That was fine by me. I loved being the asshole. I loved being hated.
I stared at her ass the entire time she walked away.
Then I went into my apartment.
And I couldn’t stop thinking about pulling that pink thong off her body… using nothing but my fucking teeth.
6
A Cup of Sugar
(Violet)
My life was suddenly a swirling temptation of hell. I couldn’t leave my new apartment without looking to see if he was there. I had only run into Mason a couple more times after the whole pizza-beer-pink thong situation. Both times he simply grinned, flashing those dimples, knowing damn well how good he looked when he did that.
I fought off the deepest urges, telling myself that I was not saving myself for a man like that. Especially considering I lost the only boyfriend I really loved because I wouldn’t sleep with him. Without that though I wouldn’t have picked a different college, met Victoria, and ended up where I was.
Which was…
Opening my door slowly and poking my head out. Searching the hallway left to right for Mason. Stepping out into the hall with a fresh basket of dirty clothes. Because of Mason I purposely put all my bras and panties on the bottom. That meant dumping my basket onto the bed and sorting through the laundry.
I moved to the right, decided to take the back steps down to the laundry room. That meant walking right by his door. I was stupid for pausing, knowing I was tempting the viper to poise for another strike. But he was interesting to me. A quick online search brought up more than enough on him. He owned his own motorcycle business. He built custom rides and took other people’s motorcycles and fixed them up. His work was flawless and the pictures of him online made him look like a celebrity. The comments left online about him were split down the middle. Half the women thought he was hotter than Death Valley in the middle of summer. The other half wrote about how much they hated him because of bad things he’d done.
It was almost like the world hated him.
And a part of me felt bad for that.
That part that always got myself into trouble. Desperate to find the good in everyone, always wanting to care. I blamed my mother for that. She was a retired schoolteacher, but when she worked, she always took to the so-called bad kids. She would give everything to those kids and most of them just weren’t having it. She’d end up hurt, crying, and wondering why.
I was still standing at Mason’s door, passing the seconds by. I leaned in a little, wondering if he was home. Wondering if I should be the bigger person and try to establish some kind of relationship with him. After all, he was my neighbor. I wasn’t going to move because of him.
Then again, I hadn’t seen him…
I heard a noise.
A groan.
A woman’s groan.
I put my ear closer to the door.
I was officially eavesdropping on him. I was committing some kind of crime for sure. My mind and body all confused because of some super hot guy with a nasty attitude.
I heard the groaning again.
It was definitely a woman.
Mason had a woman in his apartment.
Having sex with her.
I moved from the door and held my head high.
Which was stupid because I had no reason to be bothered.
Yet I was.
Damn me… I was sort of jealous…
The laundry room was a little scary, but I stopped believing in monsters a long time ago. I carried my clothes back to my apartment, skipping Mason’s door, and went back to my own business. I put the basket of folded clothes on the bed and left it there. It was a Friday night and I had just done laundry. The moment that sunk in, I left the bedroom for the kitchen. Time for a glass of wine and an attempt to distract myself that I wasn’t out doing something.
Yeah, I could have called Victoria, but she would have pestered me all night about finding a guy and getting it over with. I loved her sober, but drunk she was a pain in the ass. I sat on the couch and picked something random from the on-demand section of the TV. I scrolled through my phone for a bit, knowing nothing new or interesting would be popping up soon.
Glancing at my laptop, I knew I was miles ahead of things with the app.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t work on something new, but my mind just wasn't looking for work. My mind was looking for something else. Or someone else.
I bit my lip and started to type a name into my phone.
That’s when the knocking started.
Well, to be fair, it was more like pounding.
I jumped off the couch and had flashbacks to the night Mason purposely slammed against my door while taking some woman to his apartment.
I stood for a few seconds, until the knocking began again.
I hurried to the door and unlocked it. Then I looked through the peephole and saw Mason.
Holyshit.
I opened the door a few inches.
“Mason?”
“I need your help.”
“Unless you’re here for a cup of sugar, no,” I said.
“It’s borderline emergency.”
“Emergency? Why should I believe you?”
“There’s a woman in my apartment.”
“Yeah, I heard,” I said.
“You couldn’t have… unless… the one earlier…”
“Earlier?”
“She was an old friend. Sort of. After she left, I went out for a drink. Picked up… uh…this new one…”
“You’re disgusting, Mason. Go home.”
I stepped back and Mason put his hand to the door. There was no stopping his insane strength. In other words, I was screwed.
I reluctantly opened the door.
“Tell me you were spying on me,” he said.
“What? No.”
“Then how did you hear someone? There was no way. We weren’t in the bedroom. I had her on the couch.”
“I did laundry,” I said. “I walked by and heard a noise.”
“Bullshit,” Mason said. “You little sneak. You were listening. I knew you were dirty. Fuck, babe, I’m getting hard right now just thinking about this.”
“If you don’t move your hand I’ll call the cops.”
“Cops, right, shit. Okay.” He shook his head. “This chick is drunk. Wicked drunk, Violet. She’s got herself locked in my bathroom and won’t come out. She wants a woman.”
“She… what?”
“You heard me,” he said. “I just need you to go over there and coax her out. Then I can call for a ride and get her out.”
“You got a woman that drunk? You fucked her? She locked herself in your bathroom? And now you just want to kick her out?”
Mason took his hand off my door. I didn’t close it. I was stupid around him. He grinned and put up a hand.
“Let’s get the facts straight here, babe. She was drunk when I met her. She insisted on coming home with me. If I get a chance at an easy freebie, I take it. But this one is too far gone. She’s beyond drunk. And, no, I did not fuck her. Which is exactly why she’s out. You want to sleep over at my place? You earn that.”
I felt my heart almost stop.
Mason was borderline evil. Sexy evil.
“You owe me one,” he said. “And while I was thinking about you climbing on my face and getting a taste of that innocent honey of yours, I guess
I could cash in on this.”
“And what do you expect me to do? I’m not… an expert in this stuff.”
He grinned. Those dimples.
I was giving myself away.
That I wasn’t some party animal. That I was some good girl. Why not just blurt out that I was a virgin? He’d probably start drooling.
“I can see that, babe,” Mason said. “I just need you to get her to unlock the door. If she pukes and passes out or chokes…”
“Okay, okay, okay,” I said. “I don’t need details.”
“We’re wasting time. She could be dead by now.”
“Shit, Mason,” I said.
“What? It’s the truth.”
“And what if I say no to you?”
Mason’s face became serious. “Nobody can say no to me. But if you decide to be the first that does… I’ll make so much noise, Violet, you’ll be begging for two things. One - a new place. And two - to experience it. I’ll make women scream in the middle of the night. I’ll make them scream your name, but you'll know it’s coming from me. I have ways of ruining lives, Violet. Scary ways. Sexy ways. And I bet right now if I slipped my fingers between your legs you’d be wet. You’d leave a little cream on my fingertips. A midnight snack for me.”
He stepped toward me, into my apartment.
I threw my hand forward, touching his chest.
It was like touching an electrical circuit. My hand spread over his heart. I looked into his eyes and wondered if there was even a pulse there. This guy was a monster.
I blinked fast as he slowly put his hand to mine.
“So what’s your answer,” he said in almost a whisper.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll go.”
“I’ll stay here,” Mason said.
“What?”
“Babe, if this chick sees or hears me, she’s not coming out. I just need that door opened. And then I go from there.”
I sighed. “Fine. You stay here. Don’t touch anything, Mason. I’ll let you know when she’s out of the bathroom.”
Mason took out his phone. I grabbed my phone.
And that was how I got Mason’s number… and he got mine… another big mistake…
7
HATE ME: a bad boy romance novel Page 4
