by Franca Storm
I wanna know what she got, but Mitch distracts me by grabbing my arm again and scrutinizing my new tattoo.
“Yeah. Listen, stay and show her yours when she gets here. She takes just one look at that and it’ll fix everything between you guys.”
“Nah.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because.”
He shakes his head. “Listen, your normal avoidance bullshit isn’t gonna work here, man. You gotta deal with this head on. I know you hate drama. Me too. But it is what it is.”
“Yeah, I get that now. It’s not that. I don’t want our drama ruining your peace offering for Chloe. I already fucked you over once, right?” Not to mention, the last thing I want is Chloe around when me and Nicki get into this bullshit. I just know she’ll interfere like usual and make me come off as a total dick and rile Nicki up. It’s hard enough getting her calm when we’re in a fight as it is. Nah, not the right situation to sort our shit out in. I shrug on my jacket. “See you later.”
“Okay, dude.”
My phone starts buzzing in the back pocket of my jeans. I stop before I make it out of the kitchen and pull it out. I don’t even check the number before I answer.
“John here. What? He’s where? When? Yeah…of course…I’ll keep an eye out. Uh…thanks.”
“Fucking hell,” I breathe as I pocket my phone.
“John? What’s wrong?”
I must look how I feel; white as a fucking sheet. A rush of adrenaline rips through me.
And right then, the stupid fight that’s been going on for the last three weeks between us doesn’t matter for shit. I don’t even need to second guess it as I hurriedly dial Nicki’s cell number. It rings and rings and rings. She’s not picking up! Right, because she’s mad at me. Dammit!
“You know where she is?”
“Nicki?”
“Who else, Mitch?” I snap.
“Down on campus picking up some ice-cream. Didn’t trust me to do it myself. Claimed I’d pick up the wrong one.”
“Shit. I have to go. Now.”
“What? Where?”
“I just got a call from one of my dad’s guys. Greg’s on campus.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. I gotta go. Now!” I say as I bolt through the apartment.
***
“Dammit,” I mutter.
The ice-cream tub is freezing my hands. I’m such an idiot. I should’ve just paid for a plastic bag to carry it. Me and my stupid principles. Refusing to fork over a few cents for a grocery bag. I’m too hard-headed sometimes.
I make my way across campus towards the path through the little parkette that leads to the main road where I can hail a cab to take me back to my apartment building. I’m really looking forward to our movie marathon tonight.
“Nicola!” a voice calls out.
It sounds familiar. My body reacts immediately as my mind struggles to play catch up. White-hot adrenaline rips through me suddenly. A serious warning. Instinctively, I pull my leather jacket closed over my tank top—a defensive reaction—as I turn around.
Fucking hell.
Greg.
My breath hitches. My adrenaline levels spike even more and my entire body starts shaking as though I’ve suddenly caught a chill. But there’s no physical chill in the air. It’s a warm late afternoon.
My brain is trying to rationalize what my eyes are seeing—who they’re seeing. Fight or flight? Fight or flight? But my body won’t cooperate to do either. It won’t move.
I’m frozen.
“What…what are you doing here?” I just about manage to get out.
He looks me up and down. Just his gaze on me makes me feel dirty and sick to my stomach. I try to avoid those awful black eyes of his; to push the memories of them boring into mine away. The memories of what he did to me.
His hair is grayer than I remember. It’s a mass of disgusting shoulder-length grease. And he’s wearing that dark green wax jacket he always used to with a pair of dirtied jeans; basically his entire wardrobe.
“My, my. You’ve grown up good,” he says, that rough, grating voice of his curdling my insides as he zones in on my boobs, lingering there like the sick pervert he is.
I know I should get the hell away from him, but my feet won’t move. I silently pray for the ground to open up and swallow me away just to escape this; just to end this awful confrontation. It’s the stuff of my nightmares. But I’m not dreaming now. He’s here and no amount of trying to blink him out of existence with my thousand-yard stare is gonna make it a reality.
He takes a step towards me and I tremble.
He snickers. “Time to pick up where we left off. And the way you look now….this is gonna be all the sweeter.”
“Stop,” I say, my voice wavering.
He ignores me and takes another step closer. “We never did get to finish up last time, Nicola. Time to remedy that, don’t you think?”
Oh my God.
It’s been years. I’m stronger now. I can defend myself better than most people. But seeing him here now, it’s like I’ve been transported back to four years ago. I’m that weak little girl again.
He closes the distance between us and I whimper in terror as he reaches out to touch me.
But he doesn’t get the chance to make contact as two powerful hands slam into his chest, forcing him away from me.
John.
“You don’t fucking touch her!” he thunders at Greg. “Do you hear me, you piece of shit?”
Greg’s eyes narrow at him. “John,” he seethes. “You and I have some unfinished business.”
“You’ve violated the restraining orders by coming anywhere near her.”
Greg scoffs. “Do you really think a piece of paper is gonna keep me from the two of you? I can handle a couple of paper cuts, kid. You two put me in jail. Do you know what it’s like in that hell hole for a guy charged with sexual assault and battery?”
“Exactly what you deserved.”
I’m faintly aware of sirens blaring in the distance.
“Looks like they know you’re here, asshole,” John says.
“Then we’ll be picking this up later,” Greg says; his parting shot before he takes off quickly.
I feel John’s hands on me then, pulling me against him. I barely hear his words of comfort; I’m in such deep-rooted shock. I barely even register the cops arriving on the scene. John does all the talking to them. Everything is just a blur of motion and incomprehensible chatter to me.
It’s not until we arrive back at the apartment somehow that I find myself a little more lucid. How did we even get here? John…he must have driven us home in his truck.
I’m in John’s arms as he carries me through the door of his place. Mitch is sitting on the opposite couch. He smiles kindly at me, but if he says anything I don’t hear it.
John doesn’t loosen his tight hold on me. He lowers me onto his lap and I bury my face in his chest as he keeps his arms held protectively around me.
“It’s okay, Nicki. It’s gonna be okay.”
Chapter 39
~John~
I storm into the campus pub and scan through the crowds searching for her frantically. After scaring off that shithead, Greg, yesterday and taking Nicki back to my place she’d fallen asleep on the couch. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. I figured she went back to her apartment to get away from me. We’re still in that stupid fight after all. But when I’d knocked on her door a couple of hours ago, she didn’t answer. And I freaked out. Greg’s still out there. It had taken me ages and dozens of text messages to everyone I know on campus to finally locate her.
My entire body tenses and anger flares up within me as I spot her. Fucking hell. She’s dressed to kill. Damn. The black skirt she’s wearing barely covers her ass and her white top is no better. It’s so low cut that I can see the tops of her red lacy bra. Mmm…lace. At least she’s wearing her leather jacket so that’s something, I guess. Don’t get me wrong, she looks so fucking hot,
but looking like that in front of other men is not flying with me. That’s for my eyes only. Christ, Nicki! She’s sitting up at the bar with two preppy assholes all over her. They’re flirting. One of them has their hand on her right thigh. The other is playing with her hair. I can tell right away by her wild gestures that she’s been drinking. Hell, no.
I storm over there.
“Let’s go,” I command, ignoring the guys and eyeing her right in front of me.
“Hey, man. We’re in the middle of something here,” one of the guys, with way too much gel in his hair tells me.
“Yeah, I can see what you’re in the middle of. Now, back the fuck off.”
“No, John!” Nicki cries. “We’re having fun. Go away.”
“Get your ass off that stool now,” I growl at her.
“No,” she says, pouting at me like a little kid who’s just about to get her candy taken away for bad behavior.
“Nicki, last chance,” I warn.
The guys move to say something, but I cut them off by snarling, “She’s mine.”
They obviously see the wild look in my eyes, because they hold up their hands and back away. Yeah, they know what’s good for them.
“I’m not…yours,” Nicki tells me, slurring her words. “You’re every girl’s. Not just mine.”
“Yes I fucking am. If you’d just listen to me instead of being so stubborn, you’d get that!”
She shakes her head and turns back to grab her beer on the bar top.
That’s it! I lunge at her and grab her waist. She squeals as I throw her over my shoulder and carry her out of the bar in a fireman lift. I ignore her slurred protests to put her down.
By the time I have her buckled into my truck and start the engine, she’s calmed down a bit. I pull out of the parking lot and head back to the apartment.
“That was fucking stupid, Nicki. Greg’s still out there. What if he found you in this state instead of me?”
“He’s going to anyway, John. Better that I’m drunk than sober for it. Maybe I won’t remember it this time.”
“What?”
Her voice is barely above a whisper as she says, “When he rapes me.”
Her words rip right through me and before I can stop myself, I’m making a dangerous sharp turn and pulling the truck off the road. I bring it to a rough stop and cut the engine. Nicki gasps in surprise. I unbuckle my seatbelt and rush out of the truck around to the passenger side. I haul open the door and command, “Get out.”
She’s too shocked to argue and I watch her struggle with her seatbelt in her drunken state before she finally manages it. She stumbles as she gets out.
As soon as she’s out, I push her against the side of the truck, my hands holding her arms hostage beside her.
“Listen to me. I stopped him last time around, okay? What makes you think I’d let him do anything to you this time around? He’s not fucking touching you! You got me? No man is gonna lay his hands on you, but me!”
She shakes her head back and forth. Tears spill down her cheeks. “I’m scared.”
“You’re stronger now. No one can hurt you now.”
“I…I don’t know.”
I shake her. “You do know! You do!”
It takes a while, but she finally nods slowly and bites her lip. “Okay.”
“Tell me what you need to put you at ease.”
“I…will you…train me?”
“Train you? You already know how to fight.”
“The guys always hold back with me. I don’t want you to. Will you…do that?”
Shit. Looking at her right now is like we’ve been transported back four years. She’s that scared little girl again. Seeing Greg has reduced her to that. “Yeah, I’ll do it.” Whatever she needs to push away the fear that the asshole sparks within her. That’s not the Nicki I know. She’s stronger than that.
“Why did you come for me tonight? We’re not talking.”
I release her arms and cup her face in my hands. “Why? You really have to ask me that? I love you, baby.”
“But those—”
“Those girls? I told you they mean nothing to me. They never did. I’ve been waiting on you, Nicki. For four years, I’ve been waiting on you. You are the light in my fucking life. Everything. My best friend, my family and the woman I love.” Before she can continue second guessing my intentions, I shake off my jacket and pull up the sleeve of my shirt. I point to my new tattoo.
Her eyes go wide as she takes it in. A bulging heart with a halo over it. And inside is just two words: Nicola Lewis.
“You see?” I tell her. “You see now that you’re the only one?”
She scrunches up her eyes and tears trickle down her cheeks. “Oh my God,” she sobs. “John.”
She lunges at me and her hands pull at my neck, forcing me down to her. My mouth crushes hers and it’s like a sudden explosion of passion. It’s been too long since I’ve touched her, felt her. My mouth devours hers, my hands running up and down her body frantically. She cries out as I push my hard cock between her legs and grind against her roughly. Her legs wrap around my waist and I grip her ass to bring her closer. I can’t get close enough. I need more.
“Shit,” I breathe, breaking our kiss and just about managing to get a hold of myself. “Not here, baby.”
“John,” she gasps, desperately.
I pull away quickly. “Get back in the truck.”
She does as I say.
As I hurry around to the driver’s side, I clench my fists tightly, willing my body to calm the hell down. Right now, even the ten-minute drive back home feels like too much to ask.
As soon as I slide into the driver’s seat, I feel her fingers crawling up my thigh. I bat her hand away quickly. “Don’t touch me, or we’re gonna be doing this in the damn truck, Nicki.”
“I need you now,” she begs. Her eyes are on fire for me and I watch her rub her legs together anxiously.
“Are you wet for me, baby?”
“Yes. So wet, John,” she says, breathlessly.
“Yeah?”
She nods and bites her bottom lip seductively. She pushes her leather jacket off her shoulders and then pulls her top over her head. I notice new ink on her shoulder, but my focus is drawn elsewhere as I watch her slowly pull down the cups of her bra. She holds my gaze as she pinches both her nipples, teasing me, tempting me.
Fuck me. I’m done.
I snap, losing control, and lunging at her.
She shrieks as I grab hold of her waist and pull her into the back seat with me. I shift her beneath me and bury my face in her neck. She yelps as I bite down hard on her soft flesh before soothing it with my tongue. My need for her is primal and can’t be controlled. I trail my tongue down her neck, her collarbone, to the top of her tits. Reaching around, I unclasp her bra and tug it off her arms quickly. I suck the soft flesh of her right tit into my mouth, leaving a red raw mark before doing the same with the left.
Her hips buck against me and she gasps out, “Make me forget, John.”
I pull back and shake my jacket off and then rip my t-shirt over my head. “Oh, I’ll make you forget, baby. I fucking promise you that,” I tell her as I unbuckle my jeans and free my throbbing cock.
Fuck me, I can barely breathe. My heart is pounding violently in my chest with my need for her. The need to feel her around me again. It’s been way too long. I reach into the back pocket of my jeans, hoping to God there’s a condom in there. Thankfully there is. Shit, if there wasn’t, I swear, right now would be the first time I would break my rule of never going bareback. That’s how far gone I am.
As I roll it on as quickly as possible, I watch in rapture as Nicki pulls her panties down her legs and then lifts up her skirt. She slides a finger into her pussy and then pulls it out and holds it out to me. Goddamn. My dick jerks violently. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
Growling, I grab her hand and swirl my tongue around her finger, tasting her. She moans loudly.
I
can’t take it anymore.
“Wrap your legs around me.”
She shifts beneath me and does as I tell her.
I guide my cock to her pussy. “Baby, I can’t be gentle this time. You ready for this?”
She nods frantically. “Yes! Yes, John!”
I thrust into her hard, burying myself as deep as I can fucking go. Shit, I’d almost forgotten just how tight she is.
I don’t take it slow with her this time. I can’t. My brain isn’t functioning on any other level than this insane, overwhelming need to take her right now like a wild animal.
I clamp my hand over her mouth to muffle her screams, cuz we’re pulled over on a public road and I don’t want anyone calling the cops.
Fisting my free hand in her hair, I jerk her up to force her eyes to mine.
“You,” I pound into her. I pull out slowly. “Are,” I slam in again hard. “Mine!” I roar, pumping my hips like a jackhammer, taking her roughly with all the emotion I’ve held at bay over these last weeks of our fight, taking back what’s mine, letting her feel my desire for her, and flat out claiming her.
I pull my hand away and command, “Say it! Say it, Nicki!”
“Yes! God, John! I’m yours!”
“Only mine, Nicki!”
“Yes! Only yours! I swear, I swear it!” she screams out desperately.
“Good girl,” I say, dropping my hand in between us and fingering her clit.
She throws her head back, smacking it onto the seat and shrieks as her pussy clamps down around my cock. Holy fucking shit. It’s too much. Too damn tight.
I can’t hold it.
As she comes apart, milking my cock, I release myself into her, growling and burying my head in her neck as the intensity takes me over.
“Fuck me,” I breathe, running my fingers through her hair.
“I’m sorry, John,” she cries, wrapping her arms around my back. “It was a stupid fight.”
I snake my hand around her neck and she turns into my touch, moaning peacefully. “Me too, baby. Me too.”
Worst argument ever, but best make-up sex in history.
And now, now she knows she’s all mine.
Chapter 40
