[Reluctant Hearts 01.0] Caged in Winter

by Brighton Walsh

  winter

  It just gets better. Every time, it’s better than the last. Will it always be like this? In a month, will I be having sex so utterly mind-blowing in its awesomeness I can’t even comprehend it now?

  I wonder if it’s him. Maybe sex for him is always like this. Maybe he’s just that skilled that he can make the women he’s with go off in three seconds, can make their nipples hard with a glance, their clits ache from the brush of his lips anywhere.

  Or maybe it’s us.

  Maybe it’s the way we move together, the way our breaths mix and mingle in the space between us. The way we give and take, push and pull, until we’re both out of our minds with pleasure and need.

  I stroke him, gripping and twisting my hand over the head just how he likes, until he’s so far gone, so frenzied to get inside me, he doesn’t even bother with the rest of our clothes. With his jeans still around his hips, he pulls me to the edge of the counter, my ass barely on it, and then drives deep.

  And it’s good, so good, so good.

  His name leaves me in a breath as he fills me completely, pulling out slowly and pushing in again. Three or four or five times, until my fingernails dig into his ass and my teeth clamp down on his shoulder. He groans, his hips moving faster now, like he can’t get far enough inside me, like he wants to crawl right into my body and never leave.

  Forehead pressed to mine, he looks down to where we’re joined, watching himself disappear inside me with nothing between us. No barriers, just us, and it’s terrifying and intoxicating and freeing to give myself over to him like this, just like the first time in my shower. Give myself to him in a way I’ve never done with anyone else. I’ve never wanted to with anyone else.

  He moves his hand between us, his thumb on my clit flicking back and forth, and then he sends me into a tailspin before I even know I’m at the precipice. I clutch his shoulders, legs locked around his waist, as I’m thrown headfirst into oblivion.

  “Baby… Fuck, Winter…”

  And then he’s there with me, his body tight and coiled, his muscles so hard under my caressing hands, his breaths panting against my neck as he stills inside me, and I want him like this always. Always, I want to be this close to him, this connected, this free from the doubts I carry with me endlessly except when he’s inside me. I want the freedom he gives me always.

  When we’ve both caught our breath, he pulls away, his forehead sticking on my skin where he licked the chocolate from me.

  “Ewww…”

  His chuckle is low and deep, rumbling in his chest. “Just what every guy wants to hear after sex.”

  “I think you got chocolate in my hair.”

  “Sorry I’m not sorry.”

  I laugh and push him away, glancing at the clock as I do. “Oh fuck! It’s almost three thirty. Cade! Dammit, I’m going to need to shower now too.” I scramble off the counter, grabbing my underwear and jeans from where they’re scattered around the floor.

  “Go use mine. I’ll drive you to work. It’ll be fine.”

  “If I’m late—”

  “You won’t be late, unless you stand here and keep arguing with me.” He grabs my shoulders, turns me toward his bathroom, then slaps my ass. “Go. I’ll clean up in here and be ready to go whenever you are.”

  I take the fastest shower known to man, thankful I brought my uniform with me, just in case. I slip into it, pulling my jeans and hoodie on over it. I find a comb in the drawer and yank it through my hair until it’s acceptable. When I’m as ready as I’m going to get without any of my normal shit with me, I run back into the kitchen.

  “Let’s go, let’s go!”

  “Hi, Winter.”

  I whip around, seeing an amused Tessa sitting at the island, chin in her hand. “Oh, hi. Hey. Sorry about the—” I gesture to the now spotless kitchen and realize there isn’t anything to apologize for.

  She raises an eyebrow like she knows exactly what I did with her brother in here a few minutes ago.

  Glancing down, I offer a quiet, “Sorry.”

  Her answering smile makes my face burst into flames.

  “Ready?” Cade comes up behind me, his fingers on the back of my arm.

  “Yeah, we have to hurry.”

  “I know. It’ll be fine.”

  “Cade, he told me—” I shake my head, lowering my voice to a whisper. “I can’t be late. You know I can’t lose this job.”

  “You’re not going to get fired because you’re five minutes late. And I’ll speed the whole way.”

  Once we’re in the car, the inside of my cheek is raw, my leg bouncing as I watch the clock tick closer to four, and then watch the minutes accumulate as it passes.

  He reaches over, settles his hand on my jittery leg. “Should I go in with you?”

  I snap my head to him and see that he’s dead serious. “Cade. No. You should not go in with me. God, I’m a grown woman. If something is going to happen, I don’t need my boyfriend there to bail me out of trouble.”

  “Okay, okay. I was just asking.” He holds up a hand in surrender. “I just…I don’t like that guy. He’s nothing but a sleazy asshole.”

  “Yeah, well, that sleazy asshole’s my boss, and he doesn’t like you, either. If I get in trouble, you’ll only make it worse. He probably won’t even be out front anyway.” Except I know he will. He will. He always is. Ever since he talked to me that night after work, he’s been watching. Every day when I come in, every night when I leave, and all the times in between. I can feel his eyes on me through the glass mirror to his office as I’m working, waiting on customers. Knowing he can look at me whenever the urge strikes while I’m wearing glorified underwear sends a shudder through me.

  I barely wait until the car stops before I lean over, give Cade a quick kiss, and slip out the door. Cars litter the parking lot, and I hope there are enough people inside to mask my arrival. When I push through the front door, I keep my head down, hurrying to the back and clocking in before stripping out of my jeans and hoodie in record time.

  Once on the floor, I go straight to the bar to find out what tables are mine for the night so I can get started right away.

  “You’ve got four through ten tonight, sugar.” Annette’s eyes keep flicking to the back of the restaurant, and my heart sinks.

  “Did he see?” I whisper, though I already know the answer.

  She gives a small nod. Leaning toward me, she lowers her voice. “I don’t know what his deal is lately. It’s like he’s just waiting for you to screw up. He can be an asshole, but this is a little much, even for him.”

  I nod, swallow, and push away from the bar, trying to ignore the pit in my stomach as I start my night.

  It’s just past ten when Randy comes up to me. My last table has cleared out, and my entire section is empty, the only people still inside sitting at the bar.

  “Winter. My office.” He doesn’t wait as he walks past the mirrored window and into the open door settled in the middle of the dark hallway.

  I glance back at Annette, her eyes focused on us, then steel my shoulders and follow after him. When we’re both inside his tiny office, he closes the door behind me. I’ve been in here before, of course, but seeing it now…this late at night, when the entire restaurant is spread out like a buffet for him, half a dozen barely dressed college girls prancing around for his unencumbered eyes, sends a wave of unease over me.

  His desk is dark and cluttered with paperwork and garbage. A ratty brown couch sits against the far wall, directly in front of the mirrored window that looks out onto the floor, and I feel dirty all over again at the thought of him back here, watching us at his leisure.

  He stands against the front of his desk, his legs out in front of him, arms crossed. He looks the same as he always does—black pants, gray button-up shirt, dirty blond hair parted and combed to the side. Generically handsome if you don’t notice the small, beady eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and a goatee that looks out of place on him. But now…he’s got this air of malevo
lence I’ve never felt around him.

  “You were late tonight.”

  I swallow. Meet his direct stare. “Yes. Less than ten minutes.”

  “I don’t care how late you were. Late is late, and we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?” His voice is low, controlled, as he focuses on his shirt, flicking away a piece of imaginary lint.

  Clenching my teeth and my hands, I force myself to remain calm. “Yes. I’m sorry, and it won’t happen again. I can stay late tomorrow or come in early, without pay, to make up the time.”

  He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me. Then his gaze drops, his eyes taking a slow perusal of my body, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, trepidation rippling through me as disgust settles in. “Things are tough for you at home, aren’t they?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I mean, making rent, paying your bills. This isn’t just extra spending money for you, not like it is for Jenny or Tara or Eve. You need this job. Right?”

  My entire body is taut, my spine ramrod straight, and I force myself to give a jerky nod. There’s no use lying about it. That first night when Cade came in and I had to ask for an extra shift, I alluded to as much. I had no idea it would come back to bite me in the ass.

  “That’s what I thought.” He pushes away from his desk, walks over to me, so close I can feel his sour breath against my face.

  I try not to recoil, try to hold my ground, but it’s difficult. The sense of smell is remarkable. How an inconsequential hint of something can transport you back to a time or place, regardless of whether you want to go or not. And everything about him right now—the hint of cheap aftershave, an undertone of cigarette smoke, and the undeniable scent of whiskey on his breath—shoves me full force back to my childhood. To dark rooms and lonely nights and listening to things no five-year-old should have to listen to. And when he touches me, his finger tracing circles on the back of my hand, I can’t control the shudder that racks my body.

  “I don’t want to fire you, Winter. I like you. The customers definitely like you. But I can’t have you coming and going as you please, setting a bad example for the other girls. Pretty soon I’ll have employees showing up two hours late to work or not at all, and then what will I do?” He shakes his head, steps even closer. “But I think we can work this out. I’m just going to need a little…incentive to keep you on.”

  It takes me a moment to register what he means as his finger trails up my arm, over my shoulder until he’s tracing the scoop neck of my low top, the cut of it so deep his fingernail scrapes against the top swells of my breasts. It’s only a moment—four or five seconds of time where I’m frozen, my feet glued to the ground—but it allows him to touch more of me than he ever should. Coming back to myself, I reach up and slap his hand away before stepping back, my body shaking with fury. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  He raises his eyebrows and holds his hands in the air. “I’m not doing anything. You’re saving your job.”

  My anger builds, bubbling up until it’s spilling out of me, no thought for the repercussions. No thought of what I’ll do tomorrow or next week or even in five minutes. “Is this where you tell me to get on my knees if I expect to work here anymore?”

  “I was going to let you stand, but your knees work fine for me.”

  I scoff, rolling my eyes, hands clenched at my sides. “Did you actually believe this would work? You think I need this job that much? You, what, thought I’d be so thankful you wanted to give me another chance that I’d fall at your feet and open my mouth, suck your dick? Just until the next time I was two minutes late, though, right? Or until my boyfriend showed up and had a problem with your customers feeling me up and decided to step in because you’re too cheap or just too much of an asshole to hire bouncers to protect us. Or until I broke a glass or messed up a ticket or forgot to punch in just once. Then I’d be back in this office, on my knees in front of you, sucking your too small dick. Am I close? Did I get it right? Well, fuck you,” I spit, jabbing a finger at him. “I’d rather live on the streets than have any part of you anywhere near me.”

  I don’t give him a chance to respond, don’t wait to see if he’d force me into something against my will before I tear out of his office, passing the scattered customers along the way. I feel Annette’s eyes on me as I blow past her and into the back room without a glance. Before I can get all my things from my locker, yanking my belongings out and struggling to cover myself, she’s there, her hand on my back.

  “Winter…”

  I shake my head, focusing on the buttons of my jeans as I cover up the uniform I’m never going to have to wear again. If I look up or speak, I’ll break. I won’t break here. Not because of him.

  “I can’t believe that asshole. He fired you?”

  A humorless laugh slips out. “No, that was all me. He said he’d let me keep my job if I sucked his dick.”

  Her hand pauses on my back, her fingers curled into the material of my sweatshirt. “Bastard,” she spits under her breath. “I had no idea… I mean, I knew he was always a slime ball, but I had no idea he’d do that. I never would’ve let you go in there alone. I shouldn’t have let you…”

  Turning back, I look at her, her troubled eyes begging for forgiveness for something she had no part in. “There wasn’t anything you could do, Annette. And if he thought I was going to sit there quietly without anything to say about his offer, he got a surprise.” I gather up the rest of my things, stuffing the couple of items I kept in my locker into my bag.

  “You’ll be okay. You’re strong, Winter. You’ll get something figured out.”

  I give a jerky nod, hoping she’s right. Thoughts of what this means are trickling in, and panic is hovering on the edges. I have to get out of here so I can think. So I can plan.

  “Here.” She slips a cocktail napkin into my hands, her messy scrawl across the stark white. “That’s my number. You call me, you understand? If you need anything, you call me.”

  I stuff it into my jeans pocket and settle the strap of my bag across my chest.

  “No, I mean it.” She grabs me by the shoulders and turns me, forces me to stare into her eyes. “If you need anything, sugar. A ride, a place to stay for however long…you call. Promise me.”

  I stare at her, her eyes sad and tired, her face showing more wear than it should at her forty-something years. Swallowing, I say, “Okay.”

  “I’m counting on that.”

  “Thank you.”

  She squeezes my hand and then I’m out the back door, the weight of what happened finally crashing down on me. I don’t have a job. I just walked out on my means for rent, for groceries…

  Oh God.

  I have to find another job. Immediately. One that pays as well, that works around my school schedule, where I can make what I was making in the hours I was putting in at the pub. A dozen options flit through my mind, a couple stashed away as possibilities.

  By the time I’m sitting on the bus, I’ve already calculated how much money I have against how long it is until rent’s due. How long I can stay without paying the next month’s bill, but I already know. I’ve seen eviction notices all over the building, constantly. There is no leeway. I think about what corners I can cut, what I can skimp on, what I can go without to save money. I contemplate applying for unemployment until I can find something else, and then remember I was the one to walk out rather than being fired and kick myself all over again for doing so.

  It doesn’t take long before I come to the conclusion that I’m fucked.

  Even if I get a job tomorrow, my paychecks aren’t going to start rolling in soon enough that I’ll be able to skate by. Annette’s napkin burns a hole in my pocket, and for one second, I think about calling her. About how easy it would be to just…let someone else help for once. To not carry the burden on my own. How freeing…how weightless it would feel. I shove that thought down, knowing I’ll get by on my own, like always.

  I don’t
even realize where I’m headed until the bus pulls up a block from Cade’s house. I descend the steps and start the walk to his place, and before I’ve really thought it through, I’m at his front door. I don’t know if I should be here, if I should burden him with this, especially with everything else he has going on that he should be focusing on. But he’s so deeply seated in my life now that I don’t know where else I’d go. And though I know I’ll get through this on my own, just having someone to talk to about it, having someone I can share my fears with, is more than enough.

  It’s more than I ever thought I’d have. He’s more than I ever thought I’d have.

  I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and knock. It only takes a minute before the door is pulled open, and Cade’s standing there, his brow creased in confusion.

  “Winter? What are you doing here so early? I thought you closed tonight.” He glances down to check his watch, the lines in his forehead deepening. “I was about to text you to see how it went with your boss.”

  And I don’t even know how to find the words. How do I tell my boyfriend that my asshole boss told me I had to suck his dick or lose my job? In the end, I don’t have to say anything. Cade takes my hand and pulls me inside, through the living room, and down the hall until we’re tucked away in the privacy of his bedroom. He moves to sit on the bed and pulls me to stand in front of him, his hands wrapped around the outsides of my thighs.

  “Baby, what’s going on?”

  I take a deep breath, blow it out. Close my eyes and say, “Turns out I can get fired for being five minutes late.”

  He’s quiet, and when I open my eyes, his jaw is unhinged, his eyes wide. “That fucker fired you? Are you kidding me?”

  “Not kidding.”

  “He just fired you.”

  Blowing out an exasperated breath, I say, “Yes, Cade.”

  He opens and closes his mouth, shakes head, his forehead creased in confusion. “He fired one of his best waitresses for being five minutes late? That doesn’t make any sense.”