I nodded. Forget my pride. She could have whatever she wanted.
“You want me too, don’t you, James?”
I watched her mouth intently, shaking my head yes.
“How badly do you want me?”
“Bad.”
“No. Say it. Out loud,” she ordered. Her stern expression refused my argument. “Say it. I want to hear it. If you do, I’ll take my shorts off. My panties next. You’ve never been with a woman like me.” Her nails dug into my abs, inching toward my happy trail. She weaved her fingers into my dark hair. “Say it.”
Why was she doing this to me?
Briefly her eyes softened. She looked away for a few seconds and then returned her gaze and asked, “Can you talk?”
I nodded unthinkingly. I was still on her panties and the part where I’d never been with a woman like her. I knew she was right. She was sexy, unafraid, and unbelievably confident. She seemed to know what she liked without dealing with what she didn’t. I could only imagine what it would feel like to take her to bed.
Her eyes brightened. “Tell me how bad you want me.”
I tried to pull her down to kiss me to distract her, but she pushed off my chest and forced me back. We stared into each other’s eyes. She wasn’t going to back down. What was I thinking, telling her I could talk?
“I can’t,” I mouthed. There was no way I was risking talking in front of anyone ever again. I could still remember Tess’s horrified expression. Picturing Becca looking at me that way made me nauseous.
This was done. My desire was gone. In its place was nausea.
I sat up and moved her as gently as possible off my lap. I grabbed my boxers and jeans and hopped into them, looking for my shirt. Sex wasn’t worth that shit. Nothing was worth that shit. I had to live with myself when this was over. Where was my damn shirt? I searched the living room. I was glad for once that I couldn’t hear her. She was trying to calm me down, grasping my arm. I pulled away and picked up my shirt.
She grabbed my face and forced my eyes on her lips. “I’m sorry.”
I made sure she was looking right at my mouth. “We’re friends. That’s it. Don’t touch me again.” I yanked free and took off, leaving her before she could leave me.
Becca O’Connor was vicious.
I sagged against the front door and tried to remember a time when I wanted a woman to destroy me this badly.
Chapter Nine
Becca
My pep talk didn’t end well.
I sank down on the leather sofa, staring absentmindedly at the movie that was playing as I tried to reiterate my position. A blonde bimbo with that lifeless stare but a perfect body ran senselessly from her captor. I waited for her to trip and rolled my eyes when she did. Honestly? It’s horror story rule number one: Don’t fall.
Perhaps I should have taken my own advice. Don’t fall for it. Whatever you do, avoid those killer blue eyes. Every time I looked into them I lost all common sense, reason, and I hadn’t lost my panties yet, but I wanted to. The only thing that prevented me from taking James right then and there was the overwhelming desire to hear him say he wanted me. Most men had no problem playing along. I had no problem playing along. It was part of the game. Want me, beg me—be what I needed when I needed it.
Obviously James wasn’t going to play along. The image on the screen blurred. I was propelled back in time. I was on my knees and his thick hard erection was in my mouth. I grinned to myself. The sounds he made were by far the sexiest ever, primal and uncontrolled. He didn’t know he was even making them. Being responsible for James losing his mind was making me lose my own. But the image was quickly replaced by the reason it happened in the first place. The pain in his eyes when he came out of his room shocked me to my core. Dark and overwhelming, it was the kind of pain a man like James didn’t deserve to feel. I just wanted to make him feel better, but it got out of hand the way we always did.
The way I always did.
Men were always an escape for me. They were many things, if I was being perfectly honest. They were fun to fight with, control, lose control over—men were good for a lot. I could never think clearly around them. My senses weren’t as usually affected as they were with James, but I could admit I didn’t view men the way other women did. My father’s voice filtered through my thoughts.
“You’re a useless bitch,” he’d scream in my mother’s face. “I don’t even know why I love you.”
I’ve never been able to forget that particular argument. He put her down so completely and then professed his love in one sentence. I was young, maybe ten at the time. It resonated with me. If that was love then I didn’t want anything to do with it. I’d rather have many men who meant nothing than one man who meant everything. If someone meant everything then it gave them the power to take everything with them when they left. Relying on men was like relying on an old bridge. How many times would I get across before it broke and I plummeted alone?
And if love wasn’t an option it left me with only one. Use men the way they used me. They filled that loneliness in my heart, that ugly pain I hid. They took me to great heights and then I dropped them when I was done, watching them fall and writhe on the ground in agony.
My phone rang in my purse, pulling me away from myself. I checked the time. James had been gone for four hours. I didn’t rush to get it. James wouldn’t call, and truthfully he was the only person I wanted to talk to.
Kent’s name flashed on my screen. “What?” I grumbled, sitting on the coffee table as I examined their video games.
“I thought you two were just friends?”
For someone so afraid to talk, James sure had a big mouth. “We are.”
“Then why is he losing his shit? He hasn’t been himself recently. Something tells me it’s because of you.”
I haven’t been myself either. “What did he say?”
“Nothing. I get this nagging feeling about James sometimes. He won’t tell anyone he’s suffering. He’ll internalize it until he implodes. I’ve learned how to pick up on his moods. And his moods have been off because of you.” Kent sighed. “What happened?”
No way was I telling Kent what we did. He had his own disgusting closet full of sex, but I wouldn’t dare open mine for him. “I asked him to talk.”
He groaned. “Don’t do that. He’s self-conscious about that shit. He only talks around me, Rain, and Uma. Stop pushing him, Becca. He isn’t like the other dipshits you mess around with. He’s been through enough. Leave him alone.” His tone was cold.
I was unsurprised by the guilt his comment brought me. “You do realize how reversed we are right now.”
He was silent on the other end and then chuckled. “I guess so. But that was different. I’m not going to hurt Rain. You’ll hurt James.”
His confident tone when speaking about not hurting my sister comforted me some. “The last thing I want to do is hurt him.”
“But you will.”
“But I will,” I agreed quietly. It’s what I did. I sabotaged everything around me. I took good things and pushed and pushed until they were gone. “Where’s Rain?”
“Changing. We’re going out on my parents’ boat to watch the sunset.”
I smirked. “How romantic of you, Kent.”
“Only for her.” He cleared his throat. “How’s the apartment?”
“It’s better than my car. Who’s Uma?”
“His grandmother.”
“Where are his parents?”
“Where are yours?”
I looked down at my feet and rubbed my big toes together. I needed to repaint them. Fortunately for Kent’s safety he didn’t sound like he was being a dick. He was hinting without telling me the truth, not wanting to betray his friend. “That bad?”
“Worse, actually. Why are you asking? You don’t care about him. Isn’t he just a man to take your past out on?” Now he was being a dick.
“I care about him. Someone has to. You’re not doing a good job. Did you know that he got
into a fight the other day?” He inhaled sharply, but I kept going. How dare Kent Nicholson call me out on using people when women used to be his playthings? He hadn’t been with Raina long enough for me to forget what I’ve witnessed him doing. “Did you know there’s seriously something wrong with him? He has this pain in his eyes that looks like it’s eating him alive. And it can’t be because of me. We just met.” My throat thickened. “I care about him, Kent. That’s why I’m trying not to.”
“Well, try harder. He doesn’t need a girl like you. He needs someone—”
“I know!” I barked. “I know.” He needed a perfect shy sweet girl. I was none of those things. I was proud for the most part. I was an imperfect, confident, abrasive woman. It worked for me. I was a woman who could not be hurt. In a way I’d never realized how lonely that was. I preferred it to letting someone help me up and realizing they never would. I would never grant anyone that right again. “It’s so hard, though. When I’m around him I just want to…taste him.”
Kent’s chuckle sounded in my ear. “There’s a hose in front of the laundry room. Go hose yourself down.”
“Who are you talking to?” a familiar voice asked.
My heart stopped. Rain. My sweet, precious Rain.
“No one, baby. Wrong number.” His voice softened, sounding unlike the man I met but a man who knew the girl he was talking to deserved far better than anything he had to give her. “Are you ready?”
“Who needs a hose?” She wasn’t buying his crap. “Let me talk to her. Please, Kent.”
“They’re selling lawn equipment,” he lamely said. “We don’t want any, prick.” He hung up before I could hear her response.
“Bastard,” I grumbled right as the front door opened.
My eyes widened appreciatively at the hottie entering the apartment. Tall, gorgeous, and he had a tattoo on his forearm. He raised his eyebrows at me. His hair was lighter brown than James and thankfully his eyes were uneventful and gray. Boring slate gray. He had bags of takeout in his hand. Italian, by the smell of it. A petite brunette with gold highlights came in after him, pausing when she saw me.
“Kent’s not here, so I’m assuming you’re with the other one?” he asked with what I assumed to be his signature smile.
Unfortunately, it didn’t impress me. He was the type of guy I needed right now. The kind I didn’t really want. There was no bottomless soul-sucking feeling. It was just me, the loneliness, and the hottie.
The other one? “I’m Raina’s sister.”
“Oh.” He frowned, leaning closer. “Yeah, I see it. You guys both have those insane hazel eyes.”
“Does Kent know you think his wife’s eyes are insane?”
He chuckled. “Do I still have a room?”
Speaking of significant others…his cleared her throat.
He looked down at her and rolled his eyes. “This is Brielle. And you are…?”
“Becca,” I supplied. Don’t worry, honey. He’s yours. For now…
“Becca,” he repeated, licking his lips as they roamed over my legs. “I’m Josh. Where’s the other one?”
“James?” I guessed, slightly irritated he didn’t call him by his name. “He went out.”
“With who? His right hand?” Josh smirked at his own joke and Brielle joined in, following him into the kitchen.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because the guy’s a creepy dweeb. He’s in his room all the time. He never has girls over. I don’t know what Kent sees in him.”
I stared at Josh carefully. “James is many things, but creepy isn’t one of them. Have you ever bothered to get to know him?”
Josh looked at me as he laid out his food. Brielle was in the fridge, sticking her bulbous ass out like she was wiggling a treat at a dog. “You’re not serious.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
Suddenly he grinned, slowly inching his lips up until he had a full-blown douchebag smile. His boring gray eyes knew things I refused to acknowledge. “You got a thing for the dweeb?”
“I might.” I raised my eyebrow, daring him to say one more thing wrong about James. I had no problem showing this douchebag which one of the O’Connor sisters was not afraid to put him in his place.
“A babe like you?” He shook his head as if my attraction to James went against everything he knew. “How could you be into him?”
“A babe?” Brielle picked out, leaning over to glare.
“You know what I mean,” he argued. “She’s a babe. You can’t deny that.”
Brielle shrugged and looked me over. “I can deny anything I want. She looks like a slut to me.”
That was one word people couldn’t call me. They could whisper it behind my back, they could write it under my name, and they could even sing a damn song about it. But they could never get away with calling me a slut to my face. I knew in my blood that Brielle would regret that. But this girl was small and she had no idea I didn’t mind throwing down.
I raked my eyes over Josh’s body, letting her know I could have that man between my legs right now if I wanted him. Then I looked into his eyes. His gaze was dark and knew it too.
“I’ve never minded a slut,” he mumbled, licking some pasta sauce off his thumb.
“Josh!” she growled, smacking his shoulder.
He dropped his expression and scowled at her. “It was a joke, baby.”
“It wasn’t funny.” She pouted, throwing her arms over her chest. “Let’s go eat in your room.” She grabbed her tray and fork and walked past the couch, curling her lip in disgust at me. “It’s too slutty in here.”
Poor thing didn’t even know she just lost her boyfriend. I smiled blandly, thinking of all the ways I could destroy Josh while Brielle, with impeccable slut detection, went into the spare bedroom. Josh walked by with his own food and a beer.
“How long are you going to be staying?” he asked, pausing along the way.
“Two weeks at least.”
“That’s long enough.”
“For what?”
“To screw your brains out and get Brielle to forgive me.” And then he disappeared into his bedroom.
I laughed and settled down on the couch. Josh was the kind of guy I needed in my life. Unattainable, unemotional, and willing to play my kind of games. While I switched through the channels the door opened a second time. James came in, hair mussed, face down, unattainable, emotional, and unwilling to play my games. He had dinner as well. A steaming pizza box was in his hands. The smell of cheese and pepperoni wafted in as he walked into the kitchen. I ignored him the way he seemed to want me to. He didn’t look at me as he walked a plate of pizza and a six-pack of beer with him into his room.
His indifference nagged at me. I loved a good game. Catch and release was better than foreplay. But I didn’t think James was playing anymore. I had a feeling Kent, the bastard, got to him. Or James made up his mind. He didn’t need to bother with me as long as there were girls out there that were better suited. I tried to convince myself all night that this was for the best. I ate pizza alone on the couch, where I also made my bed after finding blankets and pillows in the hall closet. They were plain and white and I knew Raina bought them. She preferred plain, safe things. Kent was the only chance she ever took, her dangerous choice. I hoped he protected her the way she deserved.
The obnoxious sound of giggling woke me up. I blinked confusedly at my surroundings until things made sense. A door closed, further aggravating me. Josh and Brielle chased each other into his bedroom from the bathroom, naked and wet, and then that door also closed. As good a morning wakeup call as Josh’s ass was, it wasn’t enough to brighten my mood.
I flung my covers aside to find my duffle bag in the living room. I found my toothbrush and used whoever’s toothpaste was on the counter. I put my hair into a bun and then went groggily into the kitchen.
The clock over the stove said it was a little after eight in the morning. My shift at Second Chances didn’t start until five. Fo
r the first time in my life I didn’t have anything to do. I didn’t do well with boredom. Inactivity gave my brain a chance to explore my thoughts. That was dangerous. After deciding to cook breakfast, I grabbed a lone can of beer out of the fridge and chased the darkness away with alcohol. I searched the kitchen until I settled on pancakes. I compiled the proper ingredients and made sure to add in extra sugar and melted butter.
As I was sliding the last pancake onto the plate James emerged from his room dressed and showered.
Hell…
Tight black shirt, form-fitting gray jeans, and untidy brown hair. He had shaved. The bastard shaved his scruff. My disappointment was brief. He was even sexier without the hair in his way. His jaw was strong and his lips looked sculpted and slightly shiny, as if he’d licked them before coming out. The hickey I gave him yesterday was the color of a plum and in the shape of my lips. I grinned at the pancakes and squeezed my legs together, relieving the pressure of my arousal.
He grabbed a mug from the cupboard and filled it with coffee. As I shifted and he reached for the fridge, our arms brushed. The contact sent actual chills over my body. He didn’t react. It wouldn’t take long before I snapped. He couldn’t write me off. I purposely slid my side against his back. He straightened and stilled, turning around to glare at me. His sharp blue eyes had their intended effect. I was falling apart and being grounded. I was nothing and someone. Honestly, they could probably have kept me entertained forever. I wouldn’t have to look anywhere else. Everything I needed was inside of them. Attraction, fear, lust, uncertainty—James could probably play along a lot better than he thought.
When his gaze slackened and he suddenly looked out of it, I wondered if I looked the same way to him. I forced myself to blink, to break the unsettling connection. Then I reached around his torso for the silverware drawer and grabbed two forks, wiggling them in his face in question. He nodded, accepting my breakfast invitation with hesitancy.
My Vicious Demise (Demise #2) Page 9
