I had to cringe at that one. The AC was blowing out cold air now and I luxuriated in it for a moment while Roddy continued to try to sell me something I didn’t want.
"Swear to god, man, this one's in the bag for you. I'm willing to throw in a little bonus for a lose though if things turn that way. That's just how much I care."
Alright. I'd had enough.
"Not interested, Roddy. Don't call again."
I hung up while he whined down the line at me, begging me to reconsider and to not "be like that". Then I pulled out onto the road and started driving.
It surprised me that I wasn't more interested in Roddy's offer. I hadn't thought much about fighting since my last, but it was never something that occupied much of my thoughts. I always rose to the challenge when Roddy called, though. Always. It had become almost a knee jerk reaction since I needed the money more than I needed anything else. It wasn't a question before.
Now I had Melissa, and I had good, stable work. There was more to lose, even though, in this case, there was more to gain than usual. I wasn't going to do anything to fuck up what Melissa and I had. It was fledgling, but it was right.
I couldn't get to the hotel fast enough. I was buzzing by the time I pulled up in front, the same way I was every time I got to come home to her beautiful, smiling face. I'd never lived with a girlfriend before, if that was what Melissa was to me, but so far I saw the appeal.
I slid my key into the lock and heard shuffling from the other side of the door. With a curious smile, I entered.
And got jumped.
Rather than having the shit kicked out of me, however, I soon found a soft pair of lips on my own, and a lithe body wrapped around my torso. I grabbed Melissa's firm ass to hold her up and returned the kiss with enthusiasm, still laughing with surprise.
"Miss me?" I asked, lips feathering over hers.
She pecked me on the lips again and pulled back, grinning. "Oh, baby—you have no idea."
The gravelly tone of her words sent a flood of heat straight to my cock. I growled and turned her around, pressing her back against the flat of the door and grinding my hardness against her.
"I think I might have some idea," I murmured.
Melissa reached between us, stroking me while rubbing against herself too. My legs turned rubbery, and I let her down, ready to drag the little vixen to the bed by her hair and have my wicked way with her. Melissa had other ideas.
The second her feet hit the ground, Melissa ducked around me. I turned to see her on her knees before me, and my brain fucking exploded. Her mouth stretched into a devious grin and she stripped her shirt off while I watched, revealing a dramatic lacy black bra underneath that hugged the curves of her tits perfectly. My cock was now at full attention.
"I went out this morning and did a little shopping," Melissa said, running her hands up my thighs.
Her fingers brushed over my zipper, and my legs shook. I had to lean back against the door for support.
"You look good enough to eat," I replied.
She unzipped me and dragged my jeans down my legs, following suit with my boxers. Her wide-eyed admiration of my cock did not go unnoticed, and a white flame licked at the pit of my belly.
"I could say the same for you," Melissa drawled.
I about fucking lost it.
"Don't tease me, sweetheart," I warned. "I want you way too fucking bad right now."
"Don't tease you?" She cupped my balls in one hand and began to massage them. I saw stars. "Why would I do something like that?"
I growled and grabbed a fist of her hair, angling her face to look up at me. God, she looked good from that angle. That mischievous smile still dominated her lips, and it killed me. She killed me.
"Why don't you tell me what you want," she drawled. "Tell me how I can serve you after a long, hard day of work."
Fucking hell. Fucking. Hell.
I couldn't take it anymore. Melissa wanted me to tell her what I wanted? I would do her one better. I would show her.
I grabbed my cock in one hand and guided it into her waiting mouth, pulling her head closer to my groin as her lips enveloped my shaft.
Melissa went to work without hesitation, gobbling my meat down nearly to the root, all the while keeping her eyes on mine. Her mouth was so hot, so wet. So fucking good. She moaned, sending vibrations of pleasure all the way to my balls and making me squeeze my eyes closed. When I opened them again, she was mashing her tits together, putting on one hell of a show for me as she bobbed faster and faster.
"Ah fuck," I groaned. "Your mouth is so fucking hot."
Her lips still managed to curve into a smile, even with her mouth stuffed. I'd never had a hotter blowjob in my life, and I'd had my fair share. There was something so raw and sexual about the moment, yet it still carried that trademark intimacy that came standard with everything we did together.
"Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna cum." I groaned and gritted my teeth, stroking the back of her head.
Melissa moaned again and went deeper still. The pleasure built inside of me like a dam, and I let more of my weight rest against the door in preparation for it to break because, fuck, it was going to be a good one.
Melissa added more suction and looked up at me with those big, sexy blue eyes, and I broke.
My whole body throbbed with wild pleasure, pulsing in time with my cock as I spilled in her mouth. I had to lean my head back and moan. My skin tingled everywhere, like tiny sparks dancing on my skin.
I came back down to earth just as Melissa started kissing up my body, pulling my t-shirt off with her. I captured her lips in a rough, bruising kiss and pushed her toward the bed.
"Lie down, sweetheart," I told her. "I'm about to rock your fucking world."
Chapter 19
Melissa
I heard the shouts and hollers before they even opened the door. Donnie and his friends, fresh from some idiotic adventure or something akin, burst through the Alibi's front entrance with enough force to startle a couple of the customers just tucking into their Friday night beer.
I rolled my eyes but didn't watch as they found a table in the corner, too busy counting out change for my last customer. Naomi approached the bar, casting a look at the rowdy group and then one at me. Her expression was soft, full of pity, and I shook my head vehemently.
"I'm over it. I doubt Donnie is, but I am, and I'm going to pretend like nothing happened from here on out," I told her.
"Isn't this the first time you've seen him, though?" she asked. "You know, since you broke up."
Since I hadn't gone into details about how that break up had gone down, Naomi naturally assumed the worst. It was messy as far as breakups go, but it could have been much messier. No matter the mess, however, I was willing to look past it and move on. I needed to if I wanted to stay sane.
"It is," I confirmed. "But that doesn't change anything. Except the fact that I'm not serving their table, of course."
"I assumed." She cracked a smile. "I'll keep 'em in line."
"All you have to do is keep 'em in drinks," I replied. "It was never my job to keep Donnie from making an ass of himself, and it's not yours either. It was a service I provided out of the good of my heart, and if he crashes and burns now, that's his own goddamn fault."
Naomi winked. "I like it. Can I get a Bud and two vodka tonics?"
I went back to work, and it wasn't long before I forgot all about the little foursome in the corner. They would not be forgotten though, unfortunately.
"...Can't believe she's such a slut!" Matt practically yelled. It was loud enough for me to hear it from across the room, which meant it was loud enough for almost everybody in the bar to hear.
Andre chirped in next. "Yeah man, and that trashy new boyfriend of hers..."
His voice faded out as Donnie's booming laughter barreled over it.
I refused to look over at the group, even though I knew they were all waiting to see my reaction. I couldn't react, not when Donnie probably knew that Hank ha
d warned me to keep it together. Even if he hadn't, Hank was only in the back office right now. I didn't want to lose my job tonight, so I kept ignoring them.
Naomi came back for more drinks, and this time her expression was even softer. I couldn't take it.
"I'm fine, Naomi."
"You don't look fine. You look like you've swallowed a whole egg, baby."
I looked up and frowned at her. "Fresh or hard-boiled?"
Naomi's lips cracked into a smile, and we had a giggle together while I filled her orders.
"At least my ex isn't a gold digging tramp!"
My smile fell. I couldn't tell which one of them had said it this time, but it didn't matter.
"Fuck this," I muttered, slapping my towel onto the counter and heading out onto the floor.
Naomi followed me. "Babe, wait."
Donnie and his friends were watching me. I could feel their eyes on me, and the frustration bubbling in my gut warned me that I was playing right into their hands. That made it so much worse because I didn't know what I could do that wouldn't play into their hands. I stopped and allowed Naomi to turn me to face her.
"Remember what Hank said about causing a scene... Those boys are disrespectful as all hell, but you know how things work around here." She scowled over at them. "Let me handle this one, okay?"
I was more curious to see what her handling the situation would entail than I was assuaged by her plea. Reluctantly, and with a great, world-weary sigh, I headed back behind the bar.
Naomi came with me, patting me reassuringly on the back. It didn't matter how obviously uncomfortable physical affection made me, she still insisted on doing it at every turn. When I first started working with her, it used to scare the shit out of me every time. I wasn't used to people touching me at all back then, and hell I couldn't remember when my last hug was. Now I was starting to see the comfort in it, and I realized she was wearing me down.
"Can I get a sweet tea, darlin'?" she asked.
I nodded and got back to work, trying to ignore the raucous laughter coming from the side of the room I was pretending not to notice.
I slipped the tea onto Naomi's tray, and she winked at me, grinning wide, as she lifted it into the air and started sashaying toward the back of the room.
I was going to check the bar for refills, but something told me to keep watching Naomi. I absently ran a rag over the bar top as she walked closer and closer to Donnie's table, where all four of them had their heads bent together in laughter. The table was a mess of beer and napkins. They always made such a goddamn mess.
Naomi executed a perfect fake trip as she walked past their table. It was glorious—screeching, arms spinning, legs buckling beneath her. She crashed onto the floor palms first, but her tray and the glass of sweet tea went tumbling to the right; straight into Donnie's lap.
I never realized, before breaking up with Donnie, how few people in Cannon liked him. I guess people never said anything or acted like it around me because they thought I'd tell him, which is fair enough. I wouldn't want to shit talk a Beringer in front of his girlfriend either. But now that I was on the outside looking in, with the rest of Cannon's residents, I'd begun to appreciate just how much the Cannon community disliked him. His family was respected, sure, but that respect didn't extend to Donnie, or at least not in the way he always seemed to think it did.
What better place for a poignant examination of this trend than the town's favorite bar? And what better situation than one so hilarious that it made the whole bar erupt into laughter? Hoots and cheers filled the air as jubilation rippled through the crowd, and Donnie’s face flushed redder than a ripe tomato.
It wasn't enough. Watching Donnie get humiliated a thousand times in front of everyone he knew would never be enough to make up for everything he'd done to me, but fuck if it wasn't a good time.
Donnie charged up out of his seat and started madly berating Naomi, dripping sweet tea all down the front of his jeans and onto the bench seat.
“You stupid bitch! Why don’t you watch where you’re fucking going?”
Those around Naomi sprung to her rescue. She, unlike Donnie, was very well-liked, and taking a tumble as she did was guaranteed to earn some sympathy. I would have never suspected, however, that the same people who helped Naomi back to her feet would have no problem calling out the raging Beringer for his uncalled-for insults.
"It was an accident," Benny, one of the regulars said sternly, wobbling his Lorax mustache. "Get over yourself."
"Leave the poor woman alone," contributed Benny's wife, Sheila. "There's no place in this establishment for that kind of rudeness."
That was the cherry on top since there wasn't a staff member in there who hadn't been harangued by Sheila Gladstone at least once and everybody knew it. Donnie looked like he was going to start unloading on Sheila and Benny too, but after a second he gritted his teeth and jerked his head toward the door. His goons got up and followed his lead.
"Donnie, wait!" I called, not wanting to miss the opportunity to rub dirt in his wound a little more.
He stopped at the door, looking over at me expectantly.
I grinned. "You forgot to pay your bill."
Donnie threw his hands in the air and continued storming out of the bar, yelling over his shoulder, "Put it on my tab!"
As soon as the door swung closed behind him, the Alibi's patrons served up a second course of laughter. Sheila high-fived Naomi, who—ever the dutiful waitress—was already cleaning up the mess.
Things soon got back to normal, though the cheer of the evening lingered long into the night. I hung with it for a while, letting everyone's smiles lift me somewhere that my angst about the Donnie situation couldn't reach me. Soon, however, that happiness began to crumble.
It wasn't that seeing Donnie get a little taste of his own medicine wasn't satisfying—it was how powerless I'd been in all of it. I didn't like having my battles fought for me, and I certainly didn't like not being allowed to fight my battles in the first place. Plus, it didn't escape my notice that the only way to get one in against Donnie was to "accidentally" spill some tea on him and laugh him out the door. It was ridiculous that there wasn't a better way to tell him off. It was ridiculous that I had to sit there and watch while that shit unfolded.
All in all, I felt trapped. Behind my bar. In this town.
In this life.
Completely and utterly trapped.
The obvious solution was to set myself free. But how? I already felt so much freer than I had before, and maybe that was why I’d been content to sit back and ride things out for a while. Now the time for sitting back was over. I needed to get out there and do something about it myself.
I was cleaning glasses when the thought hit me. I would save money, enough money to get me out of Cannon forever. I didn't know where I'd go—somewhere bigger, but beyond that, it didn't matter. First I would need to save, and from there I'd formulate the rest of the plan as needed.
Even as I planned a new life, I couldn’t shake the fear that I would almost certainly fail. I had nothing to offer the world outside of Cannon, and barely anything to offer in Cannon. What would I even do?
I chewed over these thoughts for the rest of my shift. Then, tired in more ways than one, I climbed into my car and motored over to the motel that had become my home and sanctuary. Donnie's house was much nicer and fancier in almost every way, but that didn't bother me a lick. I was happiest when I was with my fighter in our little hideaway, where we could watch TV and pig out on snacks in peace.
Even still, I couldn't force a smile as I walked through the door. Jack looked up from the couch, where he'd been reading, and furrowed his brow.
"Everything okay?" He got to his feet and crossed the room, gathering me in his arms.
"Fine," I lied.
I couldn't tell him. I wished I could. He would have all the right words to reassure me that I wasn't a waste of space in the world, that I had more to offer than just bartending and a broken past. But
as soon as I thought about letting him in on my little plan of almost certain failure, the words died in my throat.
I was on my own in this world. I always had been, and likely always would be. Just because Jack was here now didn't mean he was going to stick around. Just because I wanted him forever, didn't mean he wanted me forever too.
Chapter 20
Jack
“Okay, now hold your hands out," I instructed. "And whatever you do, don't open your eyes."
Melissa did as instructed. One of the things I loved about her was that she was very good at taking instructions. Maybe later I'd play with that a little, but for now, I had something else I wanted to give her.
I pulled the rectangular box from behind my back and placed it onto her outstretched palms.
"Okay, open."
Melissa's eyes flicked open and she looked at the object in her hands. Her lips curved into a smile, but it was a weak one. "You got me paint," she observed.
"I know it's not much..." I scratched the back of my head nervously, self-conscious about her lack of enthusiasm.
"No, baby it's great." Melissa leaned over and pecked me on the cheek. "Thank you. I can't wait to get started on it."
"I just noticed you haven't been drawing much recently and you said you would paint if you had paint… I thought it might help inspire you," I offered.
"I'm sure it will. That's great. Are you all ready to go?"
"Yeah, basically," I answered, trying not to sound as deflated as I felt.
It had taken Melissa over a week to reveal how much she loved art, and only then because I'd stumbled on her doodling on some napkins at work. Apparently, Donnie had done a number on her in that regard, and even though she was talented, he'd always discouraged her from pursuing her passion. Melissa didn't even consider it a passion because she never thought she'd be good enough to do anything with it. She was wrong, of course, and I hoped if I kept encouraging her, it would only be a matter of time before she figured that out for herself.
Maybe I was overstepping my boundaries with the gift. Why was I so useless at shit like this? All I was trying to do was cheer her up a bit since she'd been in a rut for days now. She would deny it if I brought it up, but something was bothering my girl, and nothing I did seemed to help.
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