by K J Bell
I look over the top of my Jack and Coke and see Jake standing ten feet from me, fake smile plastered on his dumb face. His number’s finally up. Now that he’s away from Tori and my sister, I have the urge to start some shit. I rise from the stool, and shoulder past a few guys. Jake turns away from me before I reach him, and I grab his arm. He sways from side to side as he turns to face me. Lightweight never could handle his liquor.
“Hey, man, what’s up, Brady?” His words are slurred, and tiny spit bubbles spray from his lips. He holds his hand out like he expects something from me. He thinks we’re friends. Fucking rat bastard! We aren’t friends.
My eyes glance at his outstretched hand, and then I shove him back. Rage bolts to the surface, and I struggle to control it. I breathe in calmly, and step up to his chest. “Get the hell out of here, Jake, and stay the fuck away from Tori.”
He cowers instantly, and steps back. He looks all offended, like he’s a stand-up guy and he doesn’t understand why I’d be pissed. “Jesus, Brady. What the hell is your problem?”
“You’re going to be the one with a problem if I find out you even so much as breathe near Tori. I’ll fucking hurt you if you touch her again. Now get the hell out of here before I decide to hurt you anyway.” My fingers twitch, and I wait for what he’s going to say. One wrong word, and he’s going down.
“Shit, all right. I’m outta here!”
He grabs some slutty brunette by the hand and storms toward the exit. My eyes travel up and down the brunette. Her skirt is too tight and short enough to expose her cottage cheese thighs. She’s a skank, not even close to the same league as Tori.
After I sit down, my boots tap the metal bar along the bottom of the stool, and I watch them walk away. I keep my eyes on him to make sure he keeps his word and leaves. He darts me a look and yells over his shoulder, “It’s just pussy, Brady. She’s a priss anyway.”
The derogatory babble spewing from his mouth sets me off again. I fly off my stool, and head for him. I am going to enjoy kicking his ass. How can he say that about Tori, a girl he supposedly loved? She’s definitely not just pussy. Before I reach him, I spot her on the dance floor out of the corner of my eye.
She takes my breath away, with her arms raised above her head as though she’s lost in the song. I forget about Jake the dickwad, and stand fixated on her movements, the way her hips sway effortlessly and her lips part sensually with each breath of air. I picture holding her hands like that while I thrust my hips, burying my cock completely inside of her. My dick presses against my jeans just thinking about it, and I have to look away before I’m not able to walk back to the bar. It’s wrong to think about her like this.
I sit back down, and motion to the bartender for another Jack and Coke. The guy next to me orders two drinks. The excessive amount of cologne he’s wearing burns my nostrils. Greasy in appearance, he’s the type that frequents these clubs, hooking up with a different girl every weekend. Not like I’m one to talk. I’d once been this pathetic guy, getting horizontal with a different girl every night of the week. Who am I to judge, just because it’s been a while? Since before Vanessa.
He notices me watching him, and nods. I do the same and turn away before he assumes something else is going on. I try like hell to look at anyone but her. It’s pointless, and as masochistic as it is, I can’t help but watch Tori dance.
As I bring my eyes back to the greaseball, he pours something from a small plastic baggie into one of the drinks. What a loser. He’s even more despicable than I thought. I’ll never understand why a guy has to drug a chick to get a piece of ass from her. It’s sickening. There are plenty of women who give it up willingly. Why not find one of them? I sure hope whoever he’s with is smart enough to toss the drink.
His chin lifts in the air like we have some silent understanding. Mentally I shout, Fuck off, loser! If I wasn’t obligated to babysit Tori and my sister, I’d follow him and let the girl know what a scumbag she’s with. Whoever she is, she’s someone else’s problem tonight. I have my own shit to deal with.
My eyes land on Tori again. I imagine moving my hands over her body while she dances and what her warm sweaty skin would feel like. I think about it, but I will never let it happen. Even if she forgives me, my life’s too screwed up right now to bring her into it. She deserves someone without a giant fucking trunk for baggage.
I turn from her, and finish my drink. I tell myself to quit staring at her. It’s wrong, like I’m some obsessed stalker. The “obsessed” part might be accurate. I order another drink, take a sip, and chew on a piece of ice. Fuck it, there’s no harm in watching. She doesn’t even know I’m here. Here lurking, like a psycho. I turn my head, stare at her thighs, her curvaceous body, and her sultry smile. And then I see red.
Chapter 4
Tori
The friend of Liv’s latest conquest returns with drinks in hand. Now that I get a good look at him, I’m completely bummed and a little grossed out. Even with my beer goggles on, he’s so not my type in any way, shape, or desperate form.
When I catch a whiff of him, I realize he’s the source of the nauseating cologne. Given that he’s rubbed all over me, I’ll have live with the smell until I take a shower. He holds a drink out for me, and grins like a fool. There’s food in his teeth, pepper or poppy seeds. I’m not sure, but it’s repulsive. I go against my better judgment, force a polite smile and reach for my waiting drink.
In a flash someone clasps down on my wrist and lifts the drink out of my hand.
“No, thank you, buddy. She’s had enough,” Brady shouts through the music, and shoves the drink into the guy’s chest. Alcohol sloshes over the top of the glass and lands on the guy’s shirt.
Wordless, I stand rooted to this spot, completely flabbergasted. The glass falls to the floor. Miraculously it doesn’t shatter, just rolls away.
The guy looks at Brady, as shocked as I am. “Whoa, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he yells.
It is then I realize Brady still has a hold of my wrist. What in God’s name is he doing here?
The rage and anger pouring out of Brady is palpable; his skin paling and jaw twitching. This could get ugly quick. “How drunk did you need her to be? Go prey on some other unsuspecting female. Leave this one alone. She’s off limits. You fucking got that?”
What is happening? I gape at him in disbelief as anger vibrates through my skin. Brady Hunter doesn’t get a say-so in my goddamn love life. Last time he had any involvement in this area of my life, I ended up with a big ol’ fat broken heart!
And yet, as much as I hate to admit it, I’m kind of elated Brady showed up. The stench from the guy’s two-dollar bottle of Axe cologne is nauseating. It’s time to cut him loose.
If Brady gets rid of him, I don’t have to come up with a creative way to do it myself. Now I just have to find a way for the two of them to make nice so things don’t escalate.
The guy starts to sidestep Brady to speak to me, but Brady stops him with his free hand. The guy stops in his tracks and gestures toward me. “Maybe we should ask her what she wants.”
Brady’s chest lifts. “If you want to keep your face intact, I suggest you don’t ask her anything.”
Brady’s sending him a warning, and for this guy’s sake, he better take it. Brady’s always been hot-tempered and I’ve seen him in many fights, but I’ve never seen him lose.
Before I can form words, the guy swings at Brady. Brady releases my wrist and moves quickly enough that the guy barely clips his jaw. Brady’s return punch is instant and lands right on the guy’s nose. He shrieks in pain. Blood gushes, spurting out between the guy’s fingers while he holds his face. He stumbles backward until his knees give and he falls.
Yelling ensues as people bend down to help the guy stand. With unsteady legs, I start to make my way over to him to see if he’s alright. Brady grabs my hand and carts me behind him until we are outside the club. Because I have to run to keep up with Brady’s long strides, I nearly fall over but manage to c
atch myself. We don’t stop until we’re on the side of the building. It’s pouring rain. This is the way my night is going. It never rains here, but tonight it is fucking raining.
I rip my arm from Brady’s strong grip, and whirl around, glaring at him. “What the hell was that about, Brady? Jesus Christ, I think you broke his nose.”
Brady throws his hands up, and lets out an irate blast of air. “Fortunately for him, that’s all I did. That dirty bastard should be thanking me for not killing him.” He casts his eyes over me, and I look up at him. He’s insanely pissed. “Don’t you know better than to take drinks from strange men in bars?” His voice sounds overly concerned for someone who doesn’t give a crap about me.
Guh! I do know that. Goddammit! My head is swimming in alcohol, clouded and confused. I haven’t been thinking clearly. When I open my mouth, I taste the rain before I speak. “I wasn’t going to drink it.”
I’m lying my ass off, and the disbelief on Brady’s face is clear. “Good thing! That douchebag put something in it. When I saw who he took it to, I completely fucking lost it.”
His “swoop-in-and-save-the-day” gloating is sending my anger to new heights. “Why do you care anyway, Brady? It’s obvious you hate me just as much as I hate you.”
He’s pacing. Drops of water spray out around his face as he rakes his fingers furiously through his dark wet hair. “Fuck this shit!”
Brady closes the gap between us, and marches toward me, his boots slapping against the wet ground. Nervously, I back away from him until the cold bricks of the wall bump into my back. I inhale a long fortifying breath, and glare anxiously at Brady. My heart pounds in my throat, and I struggle to swallow against it.
With one arm on each side of me, his palms flatten against the bricks behind me. I’m completely caged in. Our noses practically touch as hot breath mingles between us. Rain droplets fall from his dark lashes and land on his cheeks. The tear-shaped drops catch in his stubble, changing directions like a pinball. I breathe in through my nose and smell whiskey on his breath, mixed with a scent I’ve loved my entire life: Brady. As his heated gaze burns into me, I shake away my thoughts, knowing how wrong he is for me.
“Is that what you think, Tor, that I hate you?” His fiery eyes burn into me, and my body trembles as desire rages like an inferno ready to ignite my skin.
I blink twice, pour a cold bucket of water on my thoughts, and hang my head. “You helped Jake cheat on me.”
He puts his fingers under my chin, and lifts my head. “I’m finished playing games with you,” he whispers. I shiver and tell myself it’s from the rain. “Jake was always a cheat. I just sped the part along where you found out what a complete prick he is.”
“You’re such a liar!” I will not cry. “I hate you, Brady!”
“Do you, Tor?” His fingers leave my chin and slide down my neck. His index finger presses into my flesh just below my collarbone. When he begins trailing it down my skin, chasing a raindrop, I ignore the heat burning inside me like red-hot coals, and shake my head stubbornly. His finger stops when it reaches the curve of my left breast. “Look right here and ask yourself if you honestly hate me.”
Brady’s right, I definitely don’t hate him. I wish I did, though.
“I don’t know what I feel.”
I push off the wall slightly, and try to move away, but Brady holds his ground. With his wide shoulders and firm chest in front of me, I might as well be trapped between two brick walls. My thoughts don’t form with clarity. The alcohol makes my head fuzzy, and the water glistening off Brady’s skin makes him look sexy as hell. A few drops fall from the dark hair in front of his eyes, and land on his lips. He removes them with his tongue. I’m pissed at myself for thinking about him like this – for thinking about him at all. Heat clenches my sex, and I just want him to let me go. At the same time, I want him to keep me trapped against this wall and give me a reason to care.
Without warning, he crashes his lips to mine, and slams me into the wall. In one fluid motion he lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He cups his hands under my ass, and holds me up against the bricks. Immediately, I open my mouth to him and our tongues meet, sweeping and stroking against each other’s, warm and wet. I taste the whiskey on his tongue and something sweet, and I moan into his mouth, running my fingers through his soft, damp hair.
I remember Liv, and push against his shoulders, breaking the kiss. He grips my face roughly between his thumb and fingers, and covers my lips again.
“Shit, Brady, stop!”
His shoulders sag and he groans. His hips push into me, and his erection presses against my core. “Christ, Tori, I don’t want to. Your mouth tastes as sweet as I always thought it would, and I want nothing more than to shove my tongue right back in it.”
Oh. My. God. Focus, Tori! Focus!
“Brady, it’s Liv. You’ve got to put me down. She’s with that guy’s friend somewhere.”
Without a second thought, he drops me and sprints back toward the club’s entrance. I run to catch up with him, and follow closely behind. Once we’re inside, he laces our hands together and tows me along behind him. I don’t object, because for some mind-boggling reason, I like that he’s holding my hand. The air conditioner is on and blows on my wet skin, covering me in goosebumps. But I’m not cold. Thoughts of Brady’s mouth on mine envelop me like a warm blanket.
We wind our way through a group of drunk frat boys, and I feel a sense of relief when I spot Liv sitting at the same table we were at before. As we approach, her eyes move from my face to my and Brady’s joined hands. I let go of his hand and dash to her side.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my eyes searching for the guy she was with.
She shrugs. “I’m fine.” I don’t miss the suspicious look she sends me. Brady and I are both drenched. “What happened to you two?”
“The douchebag you left Tor with slipped something in her drink.” I’m not sure if he sounds angry because of our poor judgment this evening or because of what happened outside. Either way, he’s clearly upset.
“Oh, my God! Tor, are you okay?” Liv starts to wrap me in a hug but takes my hand when she gets close. “You didn’t drink it, did you?”
“No. Thanks to Brady. He showed up and bloodied the guy’s face. It was crazy.” I’m glad she’s too concerned for me to ask how that turned into Brady and me getting soaked.
“Thank God. I guess that explains why I haven’t seen my guy since he left to get us drinks.” Confusion descends on her expression and she looks at Brady. “What are you doing here anyway, Brady?”
“I’m meeting some friends here. I should probably go find them before they think I flaked.” He sighs, looking back and forth between us. “Promise me you two are done with guys tonight.” We nod our heads in shame. He hugs Liv and kisses her on the cheek. His hand gently presses into the small of my back, and he leans in next to my ear. Heat fills me from the inside out, and tingles shoot up my spine. “I’m not finished with you.” He leaves with that promise still burning hot in my ear.
God, why do his words sear a path of desire through my entire body and land right in between my thighs, where they burst into flames? Brady is wrong for me, and I know it. I only wish my body knew it too. I suck in a deep breath, and silently tell myself that I’ve got to squish this thing with Brady immediately. My life is much simpler when I do hate him.
Liv’s arms are folded over her chest, and her eyes are burning holes into me. “Okay, Tor, spill. What the hell was that about?”
“It was nothing, Liv.” I hear my voice, and it’s not even slightly convincing.
Her eyes widen, and she unfolds her hands, placing them flat on the table. She leans forward and smirks. “Nice try, Tor. I know my brother and I know you, and that was definitely something.”
I swipe a few napkins from the table, and use them to dry off my arms and neck. I glance around, searching for my discarded rubber band so I can put my wet hair up. When I can’t find it, I comb my fingers
through my hair instead. I shake water from the strands, and avoid looking at Liv. Honestly, I’m stalling, wracking my brain for a somewhat believable lie. “Look, he saved me from getting my dumb ass raped tonight, but that’s all it was.”
“All right, then,” she says, but she’s definitely not buying any of it. “Let’s drink.”
Thankfully, she drops it, because I’ve never been able to lie to Liv. Keenly aware I need to drown my thoughts about Brady somehow, I decide to ignore the inconvenient fact that I’m well past my threshold for alcohol. When Liv brings over a couple of shots, I toss them back and relish the burn as the liquor coats my throat. Jake seems to have left the club, a tiny positive. At least I don’t have to see his lying, cheating-ass face again tonight.
Brady
God, I can’t get the taste of her out of my mouth or her scent off my skin. It’s like she’s still in my arms, wrapped tightly around me. When I left her, I wanted her to know I wasn’t done with her. I’m a fucking asshole. For the life of me, I don’t know what I’m doing. The only thing I’m certain of is that I refuse to risk hurting her, and if I’m with her, I’ll definitely hurt her. It’s in my genetic makeup. Just like my ass of a father.
I use whiskey to drown out the taste of her, but it isn’t working. I sweep my eyes across the crowd, and spot my friends making their way to me. Christy is with them. Christy is the type of girl who doesn’t mind giving it up and doesn’t expect any kind of a commitment in return. Perfect. She’s precisely what I need tonight to banish all thoughts of Tori.
