by Nicole Lynne
"Fuck you, Silas." Yep, I can't help myself.
His teeth grit and he flexes his neck to the side, the movement causing tension to wind through my body. "You are fucking mine, Hope!" he says with a roar. He pulls his fist back and I flinch, throwing my hands in front of my face. His fist slams into the wall next to my head and I choke on a breath. He brings his face inches from mine in an attempt to kiss me. I shove against his chest, trying to move away from him, but it's pointless. I turn my head to the side, and that's when I catch sight of Finn storming towards me. Relief fills me just before Silas is ripped off me. And then all hell breaks loose.
21
Finn
Larry introduces me and I step into the ring, the crowd yelling. I glance around and see Hope moving away from the ropes and through the crowd. She shouldn't be up by the ropes alone. It gets rough up here. My opponent, Dan Smith, is bobbing up and down on his heels. The bell dings and he throws a punch but misses, falling forward a few steps and stumbling. I shift my weight and hurl my fist at his face. It makes a loud smacking sound when it lands against his sweaty cheek. The packed room erupts in cheers. He falls down but manages to lift himself to his hands and knees. I glance back at Hope and see fucking Silas standing in front of her. His arms are braced on the wall behind her, the side of his face that I can see is red. Hope's shaking her head. There's a loud pop and pain explodes along my jaw, my ear ringing. I stumble a few feet, a little dazed but my vision is still locked on Hope and Silas. I back away from Dan, giving him a quick glance as I jump away from his next swing. I look to the back of The Pit again just in time to see Silas punch the concrete wall behind Hope.
Heat floods my face. My nostrils flare. And I throw myself out of the ring. A path clears as I start to the back of the room. Sweat drips down the bridge of my nose. My pulse hammers in my ears. His face in only an inch or so away from hers and all I want to do is beat his motherfucking arse. She shoves him back a step, her face twisted in rage. He just steps right back up, crowding her, intimidating her.
Hope sees me. Relief fills her eyes just before I grab Silas' thick shoulder and jerk him back. I don't say a thing. I don't even take a breath. The second he spins around I slam my fist into his face, his nose crunching underneath my knuckles. He staggers and I grab his neck, holding him as I pound my head against his.
"Finn." I hear Hope screaming. I feel hands on me, but I'm gone. It's all black; tunnel vision that leads right to this fucker right here. I thread my fingers through Silas' hair, gripping his skull as I repeatedly slam his head against the concrete. I hear people shouting, still pulling to try and get me off of him, but I can't stop. I don't want to stop. I'm trained to kill and that is one instinct I've yet to learn to turn off once the switch is flipped. He groans and attempts to fight back, punching me in the gut. I bring his face to my knee. Warm blood splatters over my skin.
An arm wraps around my neck from behind, yanking and squeezing, but I'm still swinging. The next thing I know, I'm on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. My ears are ringing. My body is drenched in sweat and the entire basement is empty except for Kyan and Larry.
"Jesus Christ," Kyan says. "What the fuck was that about?"
"I..." I sit up, my head spinning. "Where's Hope?"
"Oh hell!" Larry groans as he pushes to his feet. "Should've known it was over a damn woman. You boys and your goddamn testicles. I'm done with the bunch of you. Next time one of you wants to go beating the ever-loving-shit outta some poor fucking Nancy, you're own your own. You hear?" And with that Larry heads to the stairs and disappears.
Hope appears over Kyan's shoulder, a worried frown set on her full lips. She presses her hand to her chest. "Jesus, Kyan, I thought you killed him, you stupid fuck."
Kyan stands to face her. "Did you want me to let him kill the guy?" He points at me. "Because that fucker was going for full blown manslaughter."
She folds her arms over her chest, hugging herself as she glances at me. I swipe a hand over my forehead, wiping the sweat from it. "He was being an arse."
"You can't kill a fella just because he's an arse,” Hope sighs.
Kyan throws his hands up in the air and walks away. "He's all yours, ginge."
And then it's just me and Hope. She lingers a couple of feet away from me and I push to my feet. I stretch my neck from side to side, working out the stiffness.
"Look," I say. "I can't handle that shit, okay?"
She glares at me. "Define: 'That shit'…"
I groan, tossing my head back and scrubbing my hands down my face. "Fucking, just...."
"Thank you," she blurts in a rush.
And I just....grab her. I take her face in my hands and slam my lips over hers. My hands work their way down her throat, her chest, until my fingers are skimming the waist of her jeans. Her hands go to the back of my head and she pulls me in closer. Her warm tongue dips inside my mouth and I grab at her pussy through her jeans, which coaxes a low groan from her. "Jesus fucking..." I breathe into her mouth before she kisses me harder, deeper. I sink my hand underneath her jeans, my finger swiping over her. Fuck, the slightest touch of her warm skin, the slick, wet feel of her…every last bit of me threatens to become unhinged. I yank my hand away and fist her hair, jerking her head back as I stare into her eyes. "Let's leave," I whisper as I step away from the wall, my hand trailing down her arm and to her hand.
22
Hope
The second the door to Finn’s apartment closes behind us, he grabs me. His hands slide beneath my top as his lips crash over mine. I kiss him like I'm trying to crawl inside him and maybe I am. It's like the floodgates have opened. I want him. Perhaps I've always wanted him like this and have just been denying it to myself. His lips break away from mine and he tears my tank over my head, throwing it to the side. Next go my shoes and jeans, until I'm standing in nothing but my underwear.
I rake my nails over his stomach before I tug his t-shirt over his head. His red-hot skin presses against my stomach, his teeth clamp down on my lip, and I tremble, my breath hitching. Clamping his hands around my thighs, he lifts me, wrapping my thighs around his narrow hips. It's a frenzy of hands and lips laced with desperate breaths.
The next thing I know, my back hits the sofa. Finn presses between my thighs, hot and heavy and demanding. I scratch my nails over the back of his neck and his lips drop to my throat, working over my skin until I'm burning up for him. I throw my head back against the sofa cushions. He nips and licks over my neck. Hot breaths dance over my skin as his greedy hands grab at my breasts.
His tongue traces the lacy edge of my bra and my chest heaves desperately. I just want him to touch me. He groans against my throat and the sensation of his lips, the vibration of that noise sends a flood of heat throughout me.
“Fuck,” he says, his hands skimming along my waist. My hands glide over his defines biceps, over the large bulge of muscle covered by his warm, smooth skin. He glances up, his dark eyes setting on my face and there is a primitive want dancing behind his eyes. This is absolute lust, unbridled passion. Something that probably shouldn’t happen because we are friends and I know once that line is crossed there is truly no coming back. I can tell he’s hesitating, possibly mulling over the same thought in his mind. But, as wrong as it may be, I just want him. I want this. The need, the kisses and touches. A tight pull forms between my thighs and I find myself grabbing his hand and shoving it between my legs.
“Ah, fuck, Hope,” he breathes as his fingers slip beneath the edge of my thong, playing over the wet mess he’s made of me.
“Shit.” I fidget underneath his weight and he plunges his fingers in hard and deep as he nips at my neck. An unrestrained groan rumbles next to my ear as he buries his fingers deeper inside me, twisting and rubbing in ways that have my eyes slamming shut on a laboured breath. Finn sits up on his knees and adjust himself. He takes he’s free hand and pulls my thong to the side as his finger work inside me. His thumb goes to my clit, pressing and rubbing as he watches
himself touching me. There’s the slightest smirk of satisfaction that works its way over his defined features before he subtly chews at his bottom lip.
“You’re so fucking wet, Hope. So beautiful,” he exhales a long, hard breath as he slowly leans down and swipes his tongue over me. “Shit…” I grab at the arm of the sofa in a desperate attempt to ground myself because this…him…his tongue, his fingers, it’s almost too much. With each thrust of his hand, his tongue works over me and his thrust grow harder, more determined to take me to that brink and hurl me over the edge. His tongue circles my clit, sucking. His fingers slam into me with such force he scoots me to the end of the sofa. My heels dig into the cushion; my breaths grow shallow and uneven. Heat builds in my stomach and that slow tingle turning to a gradual burn. One last lick and thrust and everything explodes. Bliss shoots through me like an angry hit of heroin and I moan, my hands flying to his head and lacing through the thick strands of his hair. “Shit,” I pant, forcing his face away from me as I try to catch my breath. “Finnley. Just, shit…”
And just like that, the desire masking his face fades away and confusion wrinkles his brow. Finn quickly pulls his hand away from me and hops to his feet, backing away from the couch like I’m some infested, mangy mut that just bit him.
“Fuuuuuuck,” he groans, swiping a hand through his hair.
I sit up, reaching for my clothes and quickly dressing. I feel soiled and tainted and shit…why did I let him do that? As soon as I pull my shirt over my head, I’m sliding my feet into my shoes, and then I glance up at him. His back is to me and he’s standing still enough to pass as a statue. Then his chin falls to his chest and he exhales. “You need to leave, Hope.”
I don’t say a word. I simply push to my feet and brush past him, sucking back all the nasty things I want to say to him as I open the door, but I do slam it shut behind me. And hard.
I walk straight to my car and hop in, starting the engine and peeling away from the curb. I don’t know why I’m upset. Guys are fucking guys and Finn is no fucking different. At least with Kyan, he’s upfront with it. Finn’s just….I groan and turn the radio up as loud is it will go, belting out the lyrics to some Royal Blood’s song.
On my way up to my apartment, I stop in front of Poppy’s door, debating on whether to knock or not. I glance at my watch and it’s too late. I don’t want to wake Patrick up, so I head up to my apartment, grab a bottle of wine, and crawl in the bed.
Story of my fucking life.
23
Finn
The door slams behind her so hard the picture next to the doorframe sways on the hook. Motherfuck! My dick is still hard as shit and the guilt. Fuck me, the guilt of having taken advantage of her—or whatever the fuck that just was—I can’t stand it.
She’s had her ex staying with her. I just kicked his arse and finger fucked the living shit out of her. I shake my head before I fall back onto the couch. I told her to leave…oh, for fuck’s sake. I freaked and told her to leave.
I stand up and pace. We’re friends or…something and I had no business doing that, but damn did I want to. I grab my keys and leather jacket and head out the door and straight to The Pit in search of Kyan because he’s well-versed in fuck-ups like this.
Within ten minutes, my bike is leaned against the side of the building and I’m walking through the doors and into the smoke-filled bar. Kyan’s leaning over the bar, talking to Haven. She grins and winks at him. Holy shit, if he’s fucking Haven, he’s going to get his arse beat to hell and back. Haven notices me and that smirk falls right off her face. She grabs a bar towel and pretends to wipe at a spot and ignore Kyan.
I walk up behind him and place my hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you.”
“Aw, shit, what did I do?”
“Nothing. I just need…advice or something.”
His eyes widen and a sick smirk wiggles over his face. “Ah, you fucked a friend, didn’t you?” He winks. “Told ya’ the two of you weren’t friends.”
“I didn’t fuck her, Kyan.”
He glares at me. “Really?”
“Yes, really—”
“Boy,” Larry shouts as he comes out from behind the bar. “You better not be causing no more ruckus like that in here. Those damn redheads are like she devils.”
I stare at him and Kyan laughs.
“I’m telling you, sonny. She devils. Those ginger’s ain’t got a lick of a soul.”
I nod at him, watching as he swipes at his glass eye that’s gone crooked. “Sure thing, Lars.”
He points at me. “Red in the head, fire in the hole and a whole lot of fucked up shit to come right along side it.”
“What the fuck is he on about?” Kyan whispers through a grin.
“I don’t know.”
“Alright, Lars,” Kyan says as he stands up. “We’re heading out. Send Lou my love.”
He nods and Kyan slaps his hand over my back, leading me to the exit. “So, if you didn’t fuck her, what’s the problem?”
“I finger fucked her.”
He stops midstride and glares at me, lifting a single brow. “Finger fucked her?”
“Yeah.”
He covers his mouth with his hand and snorts out a laugh. “Did you finger fuck her right before or after you dry humped her?”
“Oh, fuck off, would you?”
He holds his hands up and shakes his head. “I’m just saying. How old are you?”
“Never mind,” I say and push through the door, immediately heading to the side of the building and grabbing my bike.
“Wait a second, fucktard. I’m just taking the piss. Look, you like her.” I stare blankly at him.
“You. Like. Her.” I grab my helmet and shove it over my head. I don’t even know why the fuck I came down here to talk to him. “She likes you. What is the fucking deal with the two of you? I mean, honest to god, Finn. You both act like a pair of confused adolescents. Finger fucking and all the fucking angst. Give it a rest. Sink your dick in her and be done with it.”
The fact that he thinks I could treat Hope like a slut irritates the fuck out of me. I lift the shield to my helmet. “Sink my dick in her and be done with it?” I ask.
Kyan tosses his head back and groans before he drags his hands down his face, the rough motion causing the bottom of his eyes to stretch down. “Not like that. Just fucking date her, for fuck’s sake. No wonder you’re single. Jesus in heaven, you’re doing my fucking head in and I’m not trying to fuck you. Poor ginge, I wouldn’t put up with your arse for anything.”
“Thanks, Kyan.”
I go to crank the bike and he steps forward, placing his hand over mine. “Tell me you didn’t tell her to leave?” I drop my chin to my chest and sigh. “Ah, fuck, mate.” He shakes his head. “You hate me, don’t you? I’m never gonna hear the end of this shit. Look, call her. Tell her you’re an arsehole, a rancid dick dribbling fuck face, tell her you have fucking Tourette’s or some shit and that when you say ‘leave Hope’ you actually mean, put your pussy on my mouth.”
I just stare at him. That’s all I can do. A group of women strut past the alley, giggling, which, of course, catches his attention. He glances to the sidewalk and whistles. They all stop and stare at us.
“Fancy fucking a fighter?” he shouts. That gets another fit of girly laughter. I’ll never understand why any girl would want to be within five-hundred meters of his dick.
“Look, tell her you’re sorry,” he says, slowly backing toward the sidewalk. “I’ll talk to her, okay?”
“Thanks, mate,” I say and crank my bike, watching as he hurries over to the group of girls waiting for him.
Tell her I’m sorry. Is it really that fucking simple? Because it never has been before…
24
Hope
I hear someone knock on my door early in the morning but I refuse to get out of bed. Whoever it is goes away and I slump back against my pillows, wanting to bury myself in my duvet and never come out. My life feels like
this eternal shower of shit raining down on me. In fact, no, it’s not. It’s just men. They can all go fuck themselves. I’m going to turn lesbian and live out my happy vag loving days without a single penis in sight.
A few hours later and someone is banging on the door again. I check my phone and see four missed calls from Poppy, one from Kyan. Fucks sake. I’m about to call Poppy back when I hear the hinges on the front door squeak open. A few seconds later and Poppy is standing in my bedroom doorway, her hands on her hips and judgment pouring off her. Of course, she has a key.
“It’s one o’clock. Why are you still in bed?” she asks. I groan and sit up, dragging my hand through my hair. “And you’re still wearing what you went out in last night,” she comments.
“Look, just…can we delay this caring little chat.” I know I’m being a snippy bitch but I just want to be left to sulk. Dear god, I sound like Finn. Maybe he’s rubbed off on me already.
Poppy sighs, flicking her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing.”
“I know you, Hope, so cut the shit,” she says on a sigh.
I groan and pitch forward, face planting the duvet. “Finn and I—”
“About time!” she cuts in.
I sit up again and stare at her blankly. “He went down on me and then asked me to leave.”
Her eyes go wide before she schools her expression. “Oh, well….that’s…”
“Yeah, that’s something. That’s a load of shit is what that is. God, why am I so hopeless with men?” I flop back against my pillows with a huff. “It’s like they see me and just want to take a giant shit on me.”
