The Drazen World: Run (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Kristi Beckhart

  I stand up and he moves closer, an arm’s length away. I search his eyes, trying to figure out what he’s getting at.

  “You’re friends with her, so you must suck cock too, right?” he purrs. “You can suck mine and I’ll pull your hair, cuz I’m sure you like that too.”

  “Fuck off, Frankie. You’re on probation.” I push, trying to move past him.

  In one quick, desperate move, he blocks me, pushes me to my knees, and holds me there with shaky, sweaty hands while he moves his crotch, which smells of ass and hot polyester, closer to my face. “I could always tell them you offered favors if I get you the best shifts.”

  Without looking, I grab his balls and pull down so hard, he bellows something that resembles a squealing, wild boar.

  When he’s doubled over and groaning, I stand and whisper in his ear, with all the calm strength I have, “Don’t you fuck with me, you understand? I will fuck you up. And no one will believe you. No one will believe that I offered to suck your cock, you asshole. You stay the fuck away from Monica too. She’s my girl, and you are insignificant. You’re an idiot and a piece of scum.”

  I spit on his head, then walk right out of that locker room. I’m going straight to Drazen’s office to file a complaint. This guy needs to get the hell out of here. This is a top-notch establishment, and I’m about to give my boss an earful. If Frankie isn’t fired, I’m outta here.

  Chapter 9

  The adrenaline surge it took to fight off Frankie wore off a few hours into my shift. I filed that harassment incident report, and he’s been fired. Mr. Drazen offered me the rest of the day off, but I need to make rent, so I decided to stay. Besides, Frankie is insignificant and the stunt he tried to pull means nothing to me as long as I don’t have to look at him anymore. I’m just glad he’s gone.

  Once my shift is finished, I’m on my way out and the bright sun momentarily blinds me, but I continue to push open the door. Somebody is also pulling from the other side, and the force of it makes me stumble through the doorway and directly into a solid, muscular body. With arms holding me up, my hands on a firm chest and my handbag cascading to the floor, I recognize a familiar scent of earth and ocean. As my eyes adjust to the light enough to look up, I see those amazing blue eyes peering down at me. Sam is holding me up with a surprised look on his face.

  “Oh. Hey.” I laugh as my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

  “Hey,” Sam says with that deep, rumbling voice that vibrates to the depth of me as he pushes me upright.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, picking up my things and trying to compose myself.

  “I came here to see you actually. I forgot to get your number.”

  “Yeah, about that. It’s probably not a good idea—”

  “I understand your schedule is tight,” Sam says, taking my phone out of my hand and tapping his number into it.

  “Look, I’m not sure this is a good idea. I had a great time last night, but I really don’t think this is going to work out.”

  His phone bloops with a text. He shows me the screen displaying a text from me that says, Take me out to dinner. He waits for an answer, so confident with his sexy smile and an adorable dimple I never noticed before. They both quickly melt my resolve.

  “Tomorrow.” I smile. “I need to do some research tonight.”

  “Hmm, can’t tomorrow. I have a thing. Maybe I could stop over after?”

  I knew this would be complicated. I’m not ready for this. Having men over to my apartment is a clear boundary. Aaron isn’t ready to meet other men yet. Especially men who may or may not be around for more than a fuck.

  “I have to be up early the next day,” I say. “What’s your thing?”

  “It’s a thing. I don’t really talk about it much, but it’s important to me.”

  “I’m intrigued.” I tilt my head, squinting at him with a half smile.

  He smiles and looks out at the traffic on the street as we walk toward my car. “I volunteer at a homeless shelter once a month. My grandmother’s family was homeless when she met my grandfather, so it became something important in my family. My parents made sure us kids were always donating our money and our time to local charities, and it stuck with us. We’re all passionate about homelessness.”

  My jaw drops and I let out a tiny cheer in my head before I say, “Impressive. I didn’t peg you as someone who’s active in charity work.”

  “Like I said, it’s important to my family, so it’s important to me.” He grins at me, probably because he knows how important family is to me too. He takes my hand. “Wanna come with?”

  I’m sold. I mean, he’s hot and he volunteers at a homeless shelter? I can’t resist this man. “Yes, I would love to. It is an issue that’s near and dear to me too. My brother has had issues with homelessness in the past, and it was always so hard to watch him struggle.”

  “Then I think we would work well together. I’ll pick you up at five so we can help make dinner.” His tone and the way he looks at me tell me he appreciates this connection we have and make the invitation irresistible. He has no idea how many points he just scored with me.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  He walks with me to my car in the garage, and I turn around at my car door. He holds my face and kisses me hard and slow before he pushes me against the car, his tongue dipping deeper and deeper with each plunge. His hands move to either side of me on the car, and I’m caged in as he pushes me against the window.

  With my body melting under his pressure, he breaks the kiss and says against my lips, “I was hoping to taste you for dessert tonight, but I’m a patient man. Tomorrow, I’ll take my time and have every inch of you.”

  With my body completely limp against my car, I can barely nod and squeak out an, “Okay.”

  He pulls me upright, steadies me on my feet, and kisses me one more time. “See you tomorrow, Eve. Text me your address.”

  I nod with what has to be a silly grin, and once again, I can only say, “Okay.”

  He opens my car door for me before walking away. When I slip into in my seat, my head is cloudy with lust, but I huff out a breath. Great, now I’m confused. I haven’t figured it out, but maybe I need this man in my life in some way. Maybe I just need his ridiculously hot body. Maybe more, but there’s too much at stake. I can’t let him get close until I sort out some things in my life back home. If I don’t, Aaron’s dad, Matthew, could show up and ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for here. I need to go figure that shit out.

  ******

  “Hey, thanks again for coming so last minute, Bea,” I say, putting Aaron in his high chair with a bowl of fruit.

  “No problem! Dad and I are saving up.”

  “Well, you’re a lifesaver, girl. Your boss should pay you better.”

  “I agree, I’ll send her a memo.” She laughs.

  “Good! Well, you know the drill, but the ten-page novel of instructions and the mile-long list of contact names are right over here if you need them.” I wink.

  “Oh, good. I was gonna cross-reference that with my Red Cross babysitting course notes, so thanks.”

  Oh, how I love sarcasm.

  Rushing down the stairs in my tenth-choice outfit of Toms, khaki shorts, tee, and infinity scarf, I hurry out to the front sidewalk to wait for Sam. It isn’t time for him to come up and meet Aaron yet, especially since we can’t seem to keep our hands off of each other. But I’m so honored he invited me to go with him to volunteer tonight, and after all of his talk about dessert last night, I’m tingly and nervous to see him. I can hardly wait.

  ******

  The homeless shelter is some sort of old factory building that was refurbished just for this shelter. It has a dark, industrial look on the outside, but when we walk inside, the immediate feel to the space is—home. We walk across hardwood floors, past the huge general living area with vaulted ceilings and filled with large plush couches and trendy cube chairs in multi-colors. We pass a pool table and a Ping-Pong table and a c
ouple of long tables with computers.

  In the kitchen, we sign in with the other volunteers and begin our tasks as assigned. As we butter baguettes, sprinkle them with garlic, and wrap them in foil, our conversation seems to continue from where we left off the other night.

  “I built the Stock Hotel with an upscale bar and restaurant so I could introduce and distribute wine from my family’s vineyard. Things were tight a few years ago when my younger sister died, so it was a way to keep the momentum of the business.” He hands me another baguette and continues. “My brother and my other sister are still very involved in the vineyard, which makes it complicated, so I used my trust fund and went out on my own to get our product out there.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear about your sister. Losing a sibling must have been hard.” My thumb caresses his forearm.

  With downcast eyes, he says, “It was, but it helps to know that she isn’t in pain anymore. Cancer sucks.”

  The pain in his eyes is transparent, even though I can tell he’s trying to hide it. Both of us watch my thumb stroke his arm, the silence cutting through something to expose a new layer of our connection.

  After all the families come through the dining area and finish eating, we wash the dishes and clean up with the other volunteers. Throughout the clean-up, Sam’s hand starts to linger a little longer on my arm. His gaze becomes a little heavier. He stands a little closer to me. When we talk with some of the residents and offer them words of encouragement and support, his arm is behind me. His fingers draw little circles on my back.

  By the time we leave, his arm is tighter around me and his face is close to mine. I feel such a positive energy between us. It feels like respect and attraction, and I’m relieved and grateful for it, especially since my last relationship left so much to be desired.

  Sam drives with his hand cradling mine in my lap, drawing circles in my palm, which then slightly rubs the inside of my thigh. I’m more than turned on and quite enthusiastic when Sam asks me to come over to his place.

  Pulling up to his contemporary, white stucco house, he pushes the button on a remote to open the gate to a short driveway. Sam quickly gets us inside the front door, then he throws his keys and my purse on a stone entry table, grabs me behind my neck, and brings me close to him. The way he kisses me is irresistible. When he holds my face, moves his hands to my hair, brushes it off my shoulder, and kisses down my neck, I feel dizzy. I don’t even know who I am anymore as I consider straddling him right there in the foyer. Apparently, restraint is nearly impossible with this man.

  Tugging at each other’s clothing, we make our way over to a large brown leather sectional with a soft-lit lamp behind it and plunk down. He moves a stray coil of hair from my face, but my eyes are drawn to the floor-to-ceiling picture windows that stretch across the whole length of the back of the house. They overlook a large black granite pool surrounded by white lounge chairs and an outdoor wood-fired grill. His house looks small from the outside, but the wide open floor plan and sparse furniture arrangement makes it seem much bigger from the inside.

  “Care for a swim?” he asks.

  My exploration of the enchanting view is interrupted, but I choose not to answer him. Instead I look into his hooded eyes, so wild for me, and pull him down on top of me. He turns off the light, so the only light in the room comes from the pool just outside. His kiss becomes deeper and more urgent, more commanding. I grind my hips against him, unable to get close enough. I want my hands in his hair. I want to be so much closer to him.

  He stops my hands and traps them against the soft leather beside my head while he kisses down my neck and chest.

  “Whoa… hey. What are you doing?”

  “I want to…” He continues trailing kisses down between my breasts.

  “I mean, you’re holding me down. No way, uh uh. I’m not into that BDSM crap.”

  Sam chuckles. “That was not BDSM, but I’ll stop if you want me to.”

  “Yes please, and how do you know what is and what isn’t BDSM?” I snap.

  He shrugs. “I dabbled with the lifestyle a little in college, but I’m not into it anymore.”

  “Lifestyle? What do you mean, lifestyle? You mean like whips and chains? You do not seem like the type.” I push against him to sit up and straighten myself out.

  “No, not that. Just a little dominant play in the bedroom, not a big deal. I’m not a sadist.”

  “Okay, well, it is a big deal and it’s not like that with me.”

  “Got it,” Sam says, his hands up in surrender. “I would never ask you to do something you are uncomfortable with.”

  We sit in silence for a moment, and I ponder what I should do at this point. This has suddenly become awkward.

  “I don’t know. Maybe I should just go.” I search his eyes for any other information, because I’m confused. I don’t know why, but I’m slightly curious and a little tingly about his phrase, “dominant play in the bedroom.”

  He takes my chin gently. “Stay.” A soft kiss. A questioning kiss. “I get it.” He examines my eyes. “I want you to know that I appreciate you coming with me tonight. It means a lot.”

  “Thanks for inviting me. It means a lot to me, too”

  “Let me show you just how thankful I am.” He takes my hands gently while he kisses my cheek. “See, I’m holding your hands again,” he whispers in my ear. “It’s not so bad, is it?”

  His stare overwhelms me, and his grip on my hands feels good.

  “It feels good, I think. I mean, I don’t know.” The heat from his fingers radiates through me, but my mind is swirling with mixed messages. “I’ve always felt like that shit is degrading to women. I can’t just surrender my power to a man like that.”

  Sam’s eyes search mine for a minute. “I don’t want this night to be over, but I get the feeling you want to go. Maybe because your opinion of me has changed.” He lets my hands drop to my lap.

  “My opinion of you hasn’t changed. I have no reason not to believe you. We all dabble in questionable behaviors, I guess.” I shrug.

  “True,” he says, leaning back. “Although I don’t believe that behavior is questionable. I’ve met several people who engage in a kinky lifestyle and are pretty happy.”

  “Maybe it looks like that from the outside.”

  “Yeah maybe, but I wonder if you knew more about it, you might not think of it as so oppressive. There should be no shame in doing things that make you happy. Especially when it comes to sex. Our society has only placed shame on kink because it’s different and doesn’t follow traditional societal norms.”

  “Huh. That’s pretty deep for a preppy wine expert,” I tease.

  “What? You think preppy wine experts can’t have an honest conversation about societal norms on a date?” Right there on the side of his cheek, that dimple returns. Swoon.

  “I think I like it when a man goes deep on a date.”

  As I realize what I just said, Sam’s smile widens and he says, “Reeeally?”

  I blush and slap my hands over my face. “No, that’s not what I meant. God, I’m so embarrassed. I’ll just crawl under this couch now.”

  “No need to be embarrassed. You’re adorable.” Sam laughs.

  As he waits for me to show my face, he rubs and squeezes my leg, and there I am once again, frozen in place with lust for him. That awkward feeling from a minute ago is gone. I can’t resist him, so I initiate the kiss this time. It’s just so easy with him. His other hand reaches for my breast, and he breaks the kiss to look down.

  “Stay, Eve.” He inhales through his teeth. “Mmmm. These are perfect and firm. They fit right in the palm of my hand. So sexy.”

  He squeezes, and I feel it inside my skin, like soda water bubbling through my veins. His kisses move to my nose, my chin, down to my neck. I’m breathless again, and the way he touches me commands my attention.

  He’s communicating without words. I want to give him some sort of message back, but I’m distracted by his mouth moving down to
ward my chest. He pulls up my shirt and tugs hard on my bra to expose my nipple. When he wraps his mouth around it, I hear him moan. I want to moan with him to show gratitude, but I have to breathe again because I forgot to. I put my hands in his hair and pull him toward me.

  He pulls back, then leans into my ear. “I want to feel you closer to me, Eve. I want to taste you. Suck you. Fuck you. Any way I can have you, I want you. I’m taking you up to my bed.”

  “Yes.”

  What did he say? All my nerves are firing, and the messages to my brain are scrambled. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on by just a kiss. We haven’t even taken off our clothes, and I feel as though if he touches me again, I might come undone right here.

  He starts to lead me up the nearby staircase, and I see a portrait of a group of indigenous kids holding hands.

  Kids. Aaron. My Aaron.

  Blood quickly rushes back to my head. My kid. I have to get home to my kid. I don’t have this kind of freedom. As I come back to the real world, all the reasoning for my strict rules about dating become clear again. It’s because of this. I got lost in Sam’s blue eyes and hot kisses and lost sight of my reality. My reality is my son. And my thesis. And paying rent. Not this.

  “I’m sorry, Sam. I can’t do this.”

  He turns around with a puzzled expression.

  “I just can’t. My son. I have to go put him to bed, then I have school tomorrow. We have to get up and do it all over again the next day and the next. I’m sorry. If you take me up there, things will change for me. I haven’t dated in a while, and I have reasons why. This is one of them. I like you, and I really, really want this. I just don’t know how to make it happen with a kid and a job and school. Can you just give me a minute?” I shake my head as tears form in my eyes. “I mean, give me some time. Days. I need a couple of days to figure this out and I’ll call you, okay?” I pull my hand from his. “I will call you. I will.”

  I grab my purse and step outside. Clearly reluctantly, he follows me with his keys, and we get in his car. He puts it in gear and drives me home in silence. Outside of my building, he parks and says nothing.