by Vivian Cove
His rough, strong fingers take my hand. “Let’s pretend your pointer finger is the West Coast: California, Oregon, Washington.” He runs his finger up my hand and I shiver. “Heavily populated and already all carved up. Sure, a new element can go in there and shake stuff up—and some people do—but winnin’s a long, hard road. Much easier to move east,” he says, finger moving to the center of my palm. “To New Mexico, Wyoming, Montana.”
I struggle to swallow. “What does that have to do with us?”
“Time’s aren’t good, Annie. Lots of people are hurtin’, bein’ forced to deal with shit that no one should have to deal with. And that means good business for guys like me.”
I pull my hand away. He lets me go without a fight. “I don’t understand.”
“Economy’s real bad here,” he continues. “No coal, no lumber, no parks or recreational attractions. Some farmin’, but not a whole lot. A lot of guys see that, see where you’re located—the only town for miles and miles right smack in the middle of a commute that’s only gonna get more important in the future—and they see opportunity.”
“This is all about how close we are to the highway?”
He nods. “And the mountain. Lots of space for people to create footholds, lots of opportunities for rivals to get into all kinds of shit. Especially since your dad’s club doesn’t have enough men or guns to put up much of a fight.”
A cold terror slices through me. “What did you ask them for?”
His eyes darken as they zero in on me. “Not as much as I should have.”
I shiver. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I asked for less than whoever else they’ll deal with will ask for. We’re partners, now. Means that if I need manpower or resources, they’ll provide it. And it means that they won’t pull any shit when I move part of my operation down here.”
I understand it all. The anger. The helplessness. I don’t know what kind of shit this man transported, and suddenly I don’t want to know.
“I know what you’re thinkin’,” he begins, “and for what it’s worth I’m sorry, but you can’t move the highway and you can’t move the mountain. Your dad was hopin’ that you guys could stay off the map, but it’s not possible. Whether it’s me or someone else, change is comin’, and fast.”
He truly sounds regretful. I look into his dark eyes and they look as trapped as I feel. “You wish things could be different,” I realize.
“Don’t we all?”
“So, what you’re saying is my dad made peace with you because he thought you were the lesser evil?”
He shrugs.
“Not everyone thinks you are,” I say.
He studies me for a second. “And what do you think?”
“What do I think about what?”
“About me.”
“Does it matter?”
“To me it does.”
I shiver under his scrutiny. “You’re not so bad.”
He grins. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. For an evil guy, you’re kinda nice.”
His grin turns predatory. His eyes laugh as they study me. “You think I’m nice?”
“You’re nice to me,” I whisper, throat tight.
“Of course I’m bein’ nice to you, Annie. I want to fuck you.”
I stopped thinking. Did he really just say that to me? And what the hell was up with my body’s response? This guy just basically admitted to manhandling and blackmailing my club into an alliance that would bring more danger to themselves and everyone they loved. No shit they hated him! So why the fuck was my pussy acting like a happy super caring bear shooting rainbows out of its tummy? Sure, I coveted his body like a leprechaun covets a pot of gold, but I knew a lot about chasing rainbows. There was nothing at the end. Just the dream. And in this case, the dream could so easily turn into a nightmare.
“You’re makin’ this hard on me,” he says slowly.
“I’m making what hard on you?”
He takes the finger that had been on my hand between his lips. Slowly, lazily, he rolls his tongue around it. “You’re making it hard to remember all the reasons why I can’t taste you again.”
Panties. Melted.
Like ice cream on a hot day.
Alright, most disgusting image ever, but it’s totally true.
Want to know what else is true? Of course you don’t, but I’ll tell you anyways. I want to melt like ice cream in his hands.
Also disgusting, but fuck, my body wants him so much it doesn’t care.
And then, because life is ironic and cruel and loves to watch me eat my words, Shelly comes back with a strawberry sundae.
“Dessert,” she says, setting it down in between us and sticking a spoon in front of each of us. “Bonne Appetite.”
“She’s not very good at French,” I whisper as I take the spoon.
He raises his eyebrows.
“What? It’s true!”
“I ordered this for her,” he says, pushing the ice cream to my left.
I glare at the sex doll, then at him. Damn, I forgot that thing was there!
He laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t think she’d mind, though, if you had a bite.”
I do take a bite, and the godliness of that bite helps me forget, for a second, everything else in the world. But, like I said, only for a second.
“ANNIE! There you are!”
I look up to see Candy running across the road to our table. I glance at the MC President. Fuck. I just have a feeling this isn’t going to end well.
“Next time text me, girl. I had no idea where the fuck you went,” Candy chastises once she gets close. “Star Power had no idea, but she gave me a great price on those decapitated doll heads.”
I stand and grab the sex doll, and start towards the road. “Yeah, well, let’s go. We can talk about all this on the ride home.”
Candy doesn’t follow me.
“Wait, he’s not a member of your dad’s club,” she says.
Damn, she noticed? “Oh, him? It’s a funny story, you see…” I gulp. “He’s just, a guy.”
She frowns. “That’s not a funny story.”
“Oh really?”
“That’s not a story at all,” she notes.
Fuck! Why does Candy have to be so observant? Luckily, sexy stranger keeps me from having to answer.
“I’m Vice,” he says, leaning forward and offering her his hand.
Candy’s eyes bug out. “VICE?!?!?!” she shrieks.
Candy’s response tells me that she knows exactly who Vice is, which shames me a little because it means that Candy knows more about what’s going on with the club than I do.
“Yeah,” Vice says.
Shit. Time for damage control. Too bad this is almost as bad as the time my uncle Lester tried to patch up his car tires with duct tape. “Yeah, Vice was just buying me a hamburger…or, I mean, he let me eat his, I mean…This is Vice.”
Candy grabs me even though I’m holding the sex doll. I would be touched if the situation wasn’t so dire! “How the fuck do you know my Annie!?!?” she yells
My face goes red. Strawberry sundae red. Thank fucking god Candy isn’t looking at me right now because that particular shade of red would tell her everything she wants to know and more.
“We met last night after she totaled her boyfriend’s bike.”
Candy frowns.
Oh God!
“Needed some care, so I took care of her,” Vice continues.
“Did she now?” Candy hisses.
Jesus. Could he have possibly said that in a way with just a tad less innuendo? Yes. Yes he could have. But he didn’t.
I am so fucked.
Vice glances at me, then back at her and seals my death sentence. “Yes, she did.”
I don’t like the look on Candy’s face. I like even less that she now knows I kept a few choice facts about my night from her, and that she is very, very, very good at putting two and two together.
Oh boy, here we go.
> Chapter 9
I flop into bed, sore and tired. Just as I’d predicted, the ride back home from Star Power’s had not been fun. Candy was pissed I’d lied to her. More than that, she was worried. Vice was apparently the worst man I could get involved with on the planet. Think of the club, she’d said (oh alright, screamed). Just think of how someone could misinterpret things if they saw the two of you together!
Yeah, now was not the time to bring up just how Vice had made my vagazzle sparkle and Damien had walked in just in time to see it lit up.
So, I’d lied about my lying.
It sucked.
But now it was over and I was finally going to enjoy my revenge on Damien…if I could stay awake long enough. Getting his room ready had taken a lot longer than we’d expected. Candy left after we were done. She didn’t want to be here to witness “the abomination.”
It’s just gonna be too embarrassing, girl. Just do me a favor and, no matter what, do not mention Restless Ds.
I hear footsteps down the hall. My spidy senses tingle.
For the first time ever, I’m sad he’s alone. I’d love to hear one of his girls scream! Still, this was gonna be great.
The door to his room opens. I hear him sigh, kick off his clothes and take off his clothes. Damien sleeps in the nude. Don’t ask me how I know this. I really, really, really don’t want to talk about it.
I know the exact moment he sees the suspicious lump under his covers. He chuckles and mutters something I can’t hear. It’s probably something stupid, like: Couldn’t wait for me, babe? I close my eyes and focus on breathing, trying not to laugh about him romancing a blow up sex doll.
I hear him rip back the sheets.
“THE FUCK?!?!?”
I snicker into my mattress.
I hear him get up and walk over to his door.
Okay, is he going to leave his room and…
Oh shit he’s coming into my room!
“Princess.” He knocked on the door softly.
Ha! I’d prepared for this. It was locked, and I’d barricaded it with my armoire in front of it. There was no way he’d bust it down this time, not unless he wanted to cause serious problems for us both.
I heard him sigh and go back down the hall. Double score! Demon Spawn wouldn’t even be able to sleep in his bed now. Maybe he’d have to move to another bed, or another room even! Things were looking up.
I nuzzle under the covers and smile, feeling super good about myself and ready for the congratulatory dreams I would be having tonight. Me standing over Damien’s corpse with a Unicorn Blaster. Candy moving into Damien’s old room and moving one of those little oven toasters into the room for a super cookie celebration party! Hell, I was so happy, I’d even the blow up sex doll could join in on our slumber parties. Well, after she was wiped with sanitize towelettes of course.
Something rustles in the bushes outside my window. What the fuck? Am I being attacked by animals? I glance up to see some tattooed fingers sliding across the window pane. Stifling a shriek, I hide back under the covers. That couldn’t possibly be…
“Princess?” I hear Damien’s voice call from the other side.
Fuck! He was outside my room!
I hear the window sliding open. What the hell? Was he sneaking in there? I glance up to see the top of his body plus one large leg in the window. Then, I cocoon back under the covers.
Maybe if I can’t see him he’ll go away!
“Princess? You still sleepin’?”
“No,” I hiss at him. Then, I realize I said something out loud. “Fuck.”
The bed dips as he sits next to me. Through the blankets, I feel his hand land on my. I kick at him.
He yelps as my foot connects with his knee. “What kind of welcome is that?” he asks.
“The welcome you deserve!”
He sighs. “But not the welcome I need.”
Who cares what Demon Spawn needs? “Take your weird ass needs somewhere else!”
“Oh man right now, watchin’ you shake it like that, I’ve developed some serious ass needs, Princess.”
What the hell? “I’m trembling with rage and fear, not shakin’ it for you!”
“Aww, did you have a nightmare, Princess?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it a nightmare since I’m awake, but yeah, about ten seconds ago my worst nightmare just sneaked into my room.”
“That’s ‘cause your worst nightmare knew you were in here.”
AAAA! All I want to do is scream. But damn, he’s never gonna leave if he knows he’s getting under my skin. I gotta play it cool. “Oh yeah Damien? What tipped you off?”
He slaps my ass and gives it a squeeze. “Would recognize this anywhere.”
That is it! I flip on my back and start kicking like it’s my first time swimming. Damien laughs like this is all great fun and grabs my legs.
“Princess, for real, I gotta talk to you. It’s important.”
Oh shit. He sounds serious. “Can’t it wait?”
“No, it can’t.” He drops my legs. “I had a nightmare, Princess. Someone left this really creepy sex doll in my bed.”
I gulp. “Really?”
“Yeah. Really.”
Damn, gotta stall! “You were awake. That means it wasn’t a nightmare.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. It was so awful that it scared my mind. Every time I close my eyes, I see it…” Then, he grabs the top of my blankie cocoon and yanks them down, exposing my face.
“What the hell are you doing?” I want to burrow back into my cocoon. I’m ready to be a butterfly no matter what my tramp stamp said!
“I need to see your face to tell you,” he whispered.
Fuck that! I thought. Then I tell him, “Fuck that!”
D-bag Damien keeps going. “It was horrifying—the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“I think that’s going a little far.”
“No, it isn’t going far enough. Do you know how scary it is to touch a woman who doesn’t respond?” He leans over me and I shiver. Everywhere. His shadow falls over my chest. His hand moves over the blankets that cover my body. The layers of Log Cabin puffs my grandma had painstakingly stitched together should have protected me from his lusty touch, but it doesn’t. I feel it as strongly as if he were running his hands up my naked skin.
He reaches the end of the blanket. I can feel his hardness through the quilted bed and my legs part, my toes curl, my hips arch up.
“To look down into her eyes,” he whispers above me, eyes looking down into mine, “and see a blank, dead expression looking up to you instead of her eyes lookin’ back at you, so eager for it that it makes ‘em flutter.”
He’s right above me now. I tilt my face up so we can touch but his hand stops my chin, holding me in place. His index finger slips into my mouth and I suck on it, rolling my tongue over it, tasting him.
He runs his other hand down my neck, over my collarbone, and I shiver again. Oh God, what the hell was happening? His hand curls around my breast as his fingers take my nipple. “Do you know what it’s like to cup a woman’s breast,” he continues, “and feel it deflate?”
Hold up. There is nothing sexy about the word deflate.
Nothing.
Ever.
It’s right up there with lukewarm and moist. Whether you’re talking about balloons or cocks, when shit deflates the party’s over.
I glare at him and he’s grinning down at me, not even trying to hide his smile. “You are such an asshole!” I yell, kicking him.
He laughs as I chuck him off the bed. “Come on, Princess. That is no way to treat me when I’ve just had a nightmare.”
“Nightmare? You just gave me one. Deflating boobs, what the hell!?!”
“Hey, imagine it happenin’ to you.”
“I don’t want to! I don’t even want to know how hard you were yanking on her tits to make them pop!”
His eyes grow dark. “You want another demonstration, Princess?”
Eew! “No! I want you to get out!”
“I don’t manhandle women. I only touched her breasts just like I just touched yours. Except instead of hearin’ her moan, I heard the long, quiet hiss of her ruptured boob releasing stale air into the atmosphere.”
What the fuck? Are you sure that was her tit?
“And I realized it wasn’t who I wanted it to be. It was super scary, Princess.”
What I thought was super scary was that the tit had to deflate before he realized it was plastic, not human skin.
“At first I thought it was a piñata. Then I saw her mouth, and I realized I was supposed to whack off into it instead of whacking it.”
Wow. Damien sure has a way with words.
“And God,” he continued. “The body. Someone covered it in blood.”
“That wasn’t blood, dumbass. It was ketchup.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Do you know something about this?”
Shit! “No.”
He frowns. “Oh no. I was hoping you did. In that case, this is worse than I thought.”
He starts getting into my bed.
“What the hell, Damien? You have your own bed. What are you doing in mine?”
“There’s a weird, misshapen sex doll in my bed with mysterious ketchup stains. I don’t know where it came from.”
I gulp. “Well, you can go to Ryder’s bed.”
“Ryder snores.”
“So do I!”
“Yeah, but you have little cute snores.”
“They are not cute, they are disgusting. You’ve even said so yourself!”
“I was lying,” he tells me. “Come on, Princess. An alien could have put it in there. They might come back and try to probe me.”
I roll my eyes. Like Damien would ever say no to any probing. “It wasn’t an alien and you know it. We both know it was me. It’s from Star Power’s.”
He looks genuinely horrified. “You gave me a blow up doll from that ancient stripper’s illegal yard sale?”
“Hey, it might not have been hers. It could have been someone else’s in town.”
Damien shudders. “Okay, now I actually can’t go back in there.”
Total backfire. “Damien…I made sure it was clean.”
He raises his eyebrows.
“Well, I’m sure it is clean. It’s been hanging from the flag pole for a few years at least, so it’s gotten lots of rain.”
