by M. C. Cerny
Evan told me he had a dream about the woman he would marry—she would look at him like he’d hung the stars in the night sky—and while he thought we could have that, he also worried I didn’t need him the way he needed me. It was sobering, despite the alcohol we consumed that weekend. We ended up agreeing to continue scratching our itch together until one of us found that person who made those stars in the night sky sparkle. I knew Evan hadn’t, which meant he’d realized I had, with his nemesis of all people, and he was setting me free as much as he was letting me go.
“We were so good together,” I murmured, a little sad and disappointed as Evan moved in to bear-hug me. His thickly muscled arms wrapped around me tight and secure, but his hold was off, his tattoos of dark ink wrapped around, and he was too bulky when I craved the leanness of another man who worked a job with much more manual labor. Evan wasn’t Damien.
Shocker, right?
“We’re the best of friends, but I think we both know you couldn’t commit to me because your stubborn heart is elsewhere.” He poked my chest gently—not in a sexual way, but in the way that wakes you up and reminds you why you are the way you are. Sometimes it sucked having someone know you that well.
Admitting that was hard. “Ugh, I hate when you’re right.”
“I’m not going to deny we have some fantastic sex, but that’s not a good basis for a relationship. You know that. I know that, and honestly I need more.” Evan needed to feel a little like he was rescuing the girl, I got that, but I was the girl who didn’t need a savior or a white knight. I needed someone to fight with me, go head to head and leave me breathless, wanting more, and this was our crossroad. Once we diverged from here, there was no going back.
“So am I supposed to feel better knowing we saved ourselves from a divorce down the road?” I blew a raspberry at him and got up to pull the ring he gave me from my dresser. Evan stood up behind me and we looked in the dresser mirror together when he spoke.
He smirked. “Have you met my dad?” Evan joked, placing his big warm hands on my shoulders.
Mr. Rooney was a pastor. He was super-religious and a real hard-ass. Evan barely talked about his dad—or his mother, who seemed like a meek version of him, standing in the shadows.
“Do you want this back? I mean, I should really give it back because it should go to your forever girl, not your itch-scratching female BFF.” I held the ring up to the light—a pretty pear shape diamond with baguettes on the sides. I had seen it in a magazine and fallen in love with it instantly.
“Keep it. It’s the ring I bought with you in mind. Someday, when I find my girl, I’ll get her something new that speaks to who she is as a person I’ll share my life with.” Funny thing was that I knew Evan would find his happily ever after someday. He was a good guy—he just wasn’t my guy, and I knew that deep down.
“God, ugh, why are you so damn perfect?” I put the ring back in my drawer, turning in his arms.
“Because it pisses Damien off and I know when you figure out what’s going on inside that head of yours, he’ll be a better man because he had to try so hard proving it to you.”
“You’re still going to fuck with him aren’t you?”
I watched Evan’s expression turn thoughtful. He leaned in and kissed my shoulder affectionately. We shared more than most friends, so this wasn’t unexpected, considering he was big on public displays of affection.
“Of course, I take my best guy friend duties very seriously.” Evan tweaked my nose and grabbed his pants off the floor, putting them on one hot leg at a time. It seemed like once you couldn’t have something, your body wanted it even more, especially when you knew it was over.
I grumbled into a smile, “Stop being perfect, you’re not mine anymore.” I don’t think Evan had really ever been mine, and at least now we were being fair and honest with each other.
Evan just shook his head, snickering. I was glad we weren’t fighting, and at least for us, everything would be okay. “Now, do you need me to pick up your usual from the drugstore before I head into work?” he asked, slipping his wallet into his back pocket. Ever the perfect guy. I grimaced. Later I would hit the store when I stopped feeling homicidal with my hormones.
“I got it,” I said and he let it go. I felt a last wave of need rush through me, knowing I wouldn’t have this with him again. The comfort and the closeness ebbed away. This chapter in our story ended.
“Sure?” He opened his arms and I gave him a hug that lingered too long for both of us before he gently pushed me back. I bit my lip to keep myself from crying and begging him to not go. I needed to be stronger than that.
“You better leave before I hit the red rage of horniness and keep you here captive for the next five days.” Threating Evan didn’t work; he laughed it off, kissing my forehead affectionately and leaving me with more to think about.
“See ya later, black widow,” he teased as he shut the front door softly, clicking it closed.
“Spider bite ya later, Peter Parker,” I muttered as I busied myself stripping my bed and gathering up laundry from the floor like the current mess of my life.
10
Kristen
“Jesus, Kristen, could you be any more of a bitch today?”
I was on day two of my period—the worst day of them all because there doesn’t feel like there’s an end in sight that doesn’t include death or dismemberment. So much for my enlightening conversation with Evan the day before, because I was currently on DEFCON level 5.
I glared at him. “Hey, you knocked on my door without coffee to pay to the toll or sweets from the bakery. Your life is in your own hands, buddy.” My arms crossed over my chest protectively. If I had been sitting I would have shoved my hands under my legs to keep from grabbing an object to throw at him. Feeling so insecure and unsettled made me crazy. I wished there was a magic pill to fix my mood, but even my skin crawled just being in my own body and Damien had the shit luck to show up today of all days.
“Is this you on the rag? Do I need to run out and buy you some chocolate, tampons, and shit to ease up here?” Demon paced back and forth in my living room, wearing a hole in my nice block-print Ikea carpet. I focused my imagination on him drowning in the blue square and begging for a life preserver at my mercy.
“Why are you even here? Ugh, why did I open the door?” Bemoaning his existence, I couldn’t believe he crossed the line and mentioned my period like that. I may have been a raging hormonal mess, but that was over the top… even if I was on my period. Besides, only Evan, who came as close to being a superhero in my demented head… No, I wouldn’t think about how I’d let a perfect guy go the day before and let this hot mess in. Bad choices were one thing I was good at, no matter where in my life I was going.
“I was wanted to talk to you about a job, but I can see now isn’t a good time.”
“Well it’s a hell of a greeting card coming in here like that.”
“You threatened to cut my balls off with a pair of BBQ tongs.”
I did threaten that, but I found it irrelevant at the moment.
“Please tell me it’s not a tax question?” I’d told Hunter and Demon to use the tax center in town because the last thing I wanted was to see Demon every day if I did their books for the construction company. Hunter offered me a job when he first started and I’d turned him down then, preferring to remove myself from temptation and murder charges, given the way Demon and I went back and forth with each other.
“Nope, unless taxes get you horny.” He smirked and I looked for a blunt object to hit him with, but none were within reach—not even my BBQ tongs.
“You know, Demon, my morning started with me waking up in a pool of my own blood, so just let me know if you’d like to end yours the same way.” Using all of my strength, I pushed him out of my way to make coffee in the kitchen—and maybe check the freezer for ice cream. There wasn’t much that embarrassed me, but Demon definitely had a way ticking me off royally. I was going to go to work later that day, sinc
e my hours were flexible, but the cramps made me miserable and no amount of birth control or pain relievers had fixed that since becoming a woman.
“Maybe I could work that crankiness out of you?” His eyebrows seemed to grow hair and wiggle like overgrown caterpillars I wanted to wax them off in his sleep.
Men were colossal pigs for the next three days, in my demented mind. “You disgust me, Demon.”
“Build a bridge and get over it, honey.” I hated his smirk and everything about him down to his chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, and lean hips from working out. Yeah, he definitely disgusted me and I would keep telling myself that until I believed it. It was definitely my week to hate men, since Evan had weaned me off our regular schedule of sex and friendship. I was pretty sure he would take every overtime shift he could to avoid coming back to my bed until I worked this all out.
“I’d rather drown.” My comeback was lame, but right then, with my insides ready to fall out between my legs, the neurons in my brain seemed to be short-circuited and the witty comeback was all I had.
“Maybe, but I could make you feel so good you won’t need the pharmacy in your bathroom cabinet.”
“Ugh. I don’t trust you not to desecrate the temple.” I pointed to my belly and clutched the wall on a cramp, whimpering. This was worse than the previous month. I had an appointment with my doctor the following month to check the plumbing, but right then I didn’t want to deal with it.
He rushed over, looking a little more concerned than I liked and grabbing for me, but I waved him off. If he got any closer I would be forced to kill him by detaching his head from his body with my period Hulk-strength.
“Aw baby, I just want to worship at it.” He swung his hips suggestively like he was dancing. “Do a little rain dance, maybe, and sacrifice my manhood for the cause.”
I won’t lie, it was hot—him moving like that so fluidly—but I had to get some distance before I locked him up in the closet like Kathy Bates from Misery.
“Are you smoking dope again?” I asked seriously, and he frowned.
“Kristen, that was one time and everyone on the football team except his magnificence Prince Hunter tried it. Your dad kicked our asses during field practice because you ratted us out.”
That was my fault. I was mad Chase and Damien were doing that, although who was I to judge them at the time, except that watching them—or specifically Damien—run suicide laps up and down the football field until he dropped was pretty hot and had made me feel better.
The memory of that incident aroused me past logical reasoning, which honestly I hadn’t been having around Damien. Thinking about his butt filling out that tight football spandex made me irrationally horny and I pulled him back, slamming our chests against each other.
“Get over here, jackass.” My body took over and my brain shut down any logic that might have been functioning.
“That’s my girl,” he growled, pawing at me, and I allowed it because the adrenaline rush was so much better than the cramps. He’d give me what I needed and then I would send him on his way, despite what Evan told me to consider. My heart was not up for trusting Damien Hart.
His voice rumbled in my ear. “Emasculate me some more, baby.”
I hauled his body to me by his T-shirt, kissing his chin.
“Was this your evil plan all along?” I asked as his fingers stroked against my belly and snuck under my shirt to touch skin. The pads of his fingers felt rough from years of manual labor, and I hated myself for loving it.
His voice dropped an octave, making me shudder from within when his lips rumbled against my ear in a hot whisper. “To take over the world or get in your pants?”
I murmured sexy-like in his ear, “Buy me tampons later?”
He rolled his head away, an awkward smile on his face. I was only testing him, but it was nice to see how far I could take it.
“Let’s see, if you don’t pull a praying mantis move and rip my head off first.” His breath was hot on my skin, my nipples pebbled, and I wanted to get so close to him I could crawl inside his skin.
“Mmm… Demon, don’t you trust me?” I dropped my voice against his ear, biting down on the lobe none too gently. He was incredibly easy to tease as I let my fingertips crawl up his chest and around his neck, holding him to me.
“Heh.” He blew out a shaky breath. “Not with my tool belt, honey.”
Oh, I’d unman him for sure, given the chance. All these years and now he wanted a piece of me? Not before I had him begging and eating out of the palm of my hand.
Play nice, Kristen.
The message came in the voices of Taylor, Evan, and my Grandmother—all people I loved dearly, but did not need in my head when I was about to get down and nasty with Demon.
“That’s too bad. I was really hoping you’d jackhammer me real good against the wall—test out those support beams, you know.” I pulled him toward my bedroom, pouting.
He let me lead until we were inside, and he kicked my door closed.
“I love when you try using construction euphemisms. Should I remind you I’m a plumber?” Warm hands cupped my shoulders and trailed down my arms to clasp my hands in his. Part of me wondered if the sex would be as good if we didn’t hate each other. The bickering and banter worked for us, but for how long?
“Kind of hard to forget when you try snaking me every chance you get.”
He chuckled, kissing my neck; Damien put my back to his chest and wrapped an arm around my stomach. His hand circled me, massaging and easing the cramp that made me groan.
“My poor Pebbles, baby girl, let me make you feel better.” His cock rubbed against the globes of my ass covered by the ratty yoga pants I wore to clean the house. They were so thin I was afraid they would disintegrate if he rubbed against me any harder. Hard and thick, he pressed me forward until I stopped, reaching the edge of the bed.
“Towel?”
I didn’t care about the sheets, but if he did then I would get him one.
I gulped out a word. “Bathroom?” I paused, thinking. “Wait, let me. I need to take care of something first.”
Damien let me go and I took care of business getting ready for him. I handed him the towel and he tucked it over the bedding.
“I’m gonna take this sweet pussy and make it mine, Kristen.” With the way he was growling and nipping, you would have thought I let a wild savage into my house.
“If you pull some weird vampire shit with my cooter, I will shank you in the ball sac.” I glared over my shoulder at him.
“We can shower after; I have time to cuddle this afternoon,” he purred.
“Yeah, well, I have work so let’s wham-bam this out,” I said, protecting my fragile heart in the moment.
The last thing I wanted was to have more feelings for this playboy. I was only doing this because it made my cramps feel better and I was less homicidal post-orgasm.
I grimaced as another cramp hit me. “You’re evil and I’m dirty enough right now, just fuck me hard.” I didn’t want to think about the repercussions of our strange hookups or how we always seemed to go back for more. I bumped my ass against him, trying to nail the friction to ease the ache in my core that bordered on a cramp and ecstasy as he pressed further. He knew exactly what to give me, whether I want to admit it or not. His hands bent me over my bed and roughly pulled my yoga pants down.
“You make me evil and I happen to like you dirty.” He pulled the pants all the way down, along with my old granny panties I only wore five days out of the month, forcing me to step out of them and kicking them aside.
“You like anything with or without a heartbeat,” I panted.
He snorted. “Sue me, I’m not picky.” He bit my shoulder and then proceeded to lick the stinging skin.
“Hurry up.”
“I’m working on it, brat.” He spanked my ass hard, giving me an unexpected sting that halted any more complaints. He unbuckled his belt pulling the zipper down on his jeans. He lowered them just enough rub against
me skin to skin and my core clenched.
I was moaning from anticipation.
“Can I go bare?” he asked, breath hot against my neck killing several brain cells related to rational thought, and I was kind of shocked he wanted to.
“Really?” I paused for second, doing the math in my head. I couldn’t imagine getting pregnant right then. No, I was good, but that shouldn’t have been the reason to make an irresponsible decision.
“I’m clean, Kristen. I don’t screw around with that.” He kissed the center of my back, sending a mind-numbing shiver through me. He better not have been lying; I’d cut his dick off and feed it to the wolves.
“Me either.”
He might have thought I slept around, but I didn’t. In truth, I was a serial monogamist with his mortal enemy, but it never hurt to rile him up with questions of what if.
“Now or never. I didn’t come packing condoms, sweetheart.”
A glance to my nightstand reminded me that I was out of protection myself, and to make a note for the pharmacy next time I went. Although, if we did this it might be a moot point down the road, and I had to stop myself from thinking about it further. Is this a regular thing? Do I want it to be one? We hadn’t hooked up like this in a good long while, and we usually ended it with a good fight. Ugh.
“Yeah, do it.” Before I could finish my thought, Damien pushed through my slick folds and pumped inside, filling me.
He stretched out over my back and his hands slid up my arms, holding my hands out above my head. Fingers traced the scarring on my arm, sending erotic chills down my spine. I didn’t think scar tissue had feeling left in it, but mine did, torturing me with the past and present in one fell swoop.
“Oh God!” It felt incredible, his hard cock sliding inside of me easily from the lubrication as my tight passage allowed him to easily glide back and forth, stretching me.
