The Blessing
Page 43
“Preston,” she spits out his name, “was just leaving.”
“Veronica, don’t be like that. I just wanted to catch-up. I haven’t seen you in years and this is the kind of reception I get,” he states, as if barging into someone’s apartment was the most normal thing in the fucking world. He’s obviously too fucking stupid to comprehend what’s wrong with this situation. Or he’s too much of a fucking prick.
The way he says her name rubs me the wrong fucking way. He’s so condescending and the thought of my girl ever having to put up with this man—if you can fucking call him that—makes me cringe. Don’t kick his ass, Trevor. He’s probably a lawyer—or his daddy is or some shit like that. I can’t have some privileged prick filing an assault report against me to try to have me charged and sent off to jail.
“Well,” I finally say, “it would appear that my girlfriend doesn’t want to catch-up with you.”
His whole demeanor shifts and his “nice guy” attitude is long gone as he turns to look back at me. He doesn’t look dangerous, he just looks incredibly fucking snarky and overconfident; a mix that I know how to handle all too well. He’s the type of person that’s always been my favorite kind to fight. They always embarrass themselves before I plummet them into the ground. There’s nothing like watching someone with that amount of cockiness and narcissism get thrown on their ass.
“Veronica, are you kidding me with this guy? You could do so much better, babe.”
Babe? Who the hell does this guy think he’s dealing with? I take another step forward, trying to control my anger as I watch him move closer to my girl. Grey’s crying in her arms. I know that if he doesn’t back the fuck up, I’ll wail on him right here in front of God and everybody. “I think it’s time for you to leave,” I say through clenched teeth. The words sound like venom as they leave my lips.
“This is Veronica’s apartment, isn’t it? Who do you think you are?” he asks, challenging me with a raised brow and an obnoxious smirk.
“Get the fuck out of my home, Preston Sharp!” Ronnie explodes at him, causing Grey to cry harder. “I’ve been civil to you, but now it’s time for you to leave.”
This prick has the nerve to laugh. “Wow, my Veronica has really grown up. I never imagined you being able to actually stand-up for yourself. When did you grow a spine? Was it after I—”
I’ve heard enough. Unable to contain myself any longer I cross the room in a few quick steps and grab the fucker by the arm, yanking him away from my family. I don’t need to hear him say anything else. By the broken look on my girl’s face, I can tell where his little speech was heading. Nearly dislocating his shoulder from the force of my manhandling him, I pull him out of her apartment, then throw him on the floor of the hallway. Now, I can hear Grey screaming, obviously sensing my anger as well as the gravity of the situation.
Preston gets up to his feet and glares in my direction. “Would you ease up, man? What the fuck is your problem?”
I shove him against the wall, getting in his face. I’m not planning on assaulting him, but he needs to know I’m not going to tolerate him going after my girl. He pales as I lean in so I’m just a few inches away from his stupid mug. I want him to smell my fucking anger and know that the only option he has now is to back the hell off.
“Leave her alone, she’s mine. Whatever you two had is over. So, you need to move the fuck on with your life and stop harassing her.”
“Fine, man. Just get away from me!”
I back off and he gives me an incredulous look as he adjusts the collar of his polo shirt. He seems lost in thought for a moment as he fixes his appearance. He finally gives me a cruel smirk. “That girl in there is definitely not the Veronica I remember. You should’ve seen her a couple of years ago. She was such a prude, man. It always took a few drinks to really get her going. She eased up after I broke her in good and proper. So, you can thank me any—”
My left fist collides with his face before I can even think about my actions. I feel a bone crunch under the power of my punch. When I pull my fist back, it’s covered with blood. I couldn’t contain myself. I just had to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. As my violent haze begins to fade, I find blood pouring down from his nose and onto his blue polo. He stares at me in shock as he covers his nose with one of his hands. Fuck, I know I shouldn’t have done that. I’m still fuming as I try to make sense of what this prick did to Ronnie. Would he get her drunk before he fucked her? The thought of it makes me want to vomit. How fucking dare he?
“Leave,” I spit out.
“Thanks, man, I got your message loud and clear,” he has the audacity to laugh as he pulls away from the wall. “Just hear me out. Man to man. She was a whore then and she’s a whore now. People don’t change.”
I ram my knee into his crotch and smirk as I see a tear escape his eye. This time, he doesn’t smile—nor does he smirk. Instead, he cups his balls with his hands and begins to limp his way down the stairs.
“My girlfriend isn’t a whore,” I snarl at him, wanting nothing more than to kick him while he’s hurting. “Stay away from her, or you’ll have more to worry about more than a knee to your nuts and a broken nose.”
“Fuck you,” he spits out as he continues to limp down the stairs.
I snort. That’s all he can say to me? “Fuck you”? How pathetic. I smile as he leaves my sight. I clench my fist, enjoying the way my broken skin splits even further. It reminds me of the old days when I’d take out all of my frustrations and anger on a willing opponent’s face. I’ll never fall back into those ways again but I can’t help enjoying this small taste of it. If anyone deserved the release of my built-up tension—it was that fucker. I don’t have to know the particulars; I know he hurt my girl and I couldn’t let him walk away unscathed because of it.
I rest my head against the wall and take a couple of long, shaky breaths, trying to ride out this rush before I return to my family. I don’t want them to see me like this because I know how fucking frightening I can look. I remember catching a glimpse of my reflection once after a fight in an abandoned building on the edge of town. I looked downright menacing and strangely mellow at the same time. With the endorphins rushing through my veins and the satisfaction of winning, I looked like a frightening fucking force to be reckoned with. That was the night I received a blow which caused a small scar on the side of my neck; a man’s ring slashed part of my neck open. Despite being mostly covered by my lotus tattoo, the jagged scar is a reminder of the person I used to be.
The man I used to be—as well as the man I am today—is the exact opposite of that fucker Ronnie used to date. There’s not a single similarity between us, and in many ways, I assume that’s a fucking good thing. However, I can’t help but feel a tinge of inferiority when I think of him and what Ronnie is probably used to. I run my bloodied hand through my cropped hair and tug on it by the roots, trying to release some of the excess energy and stress.
When I’m ready to re-enter Ronnie’s apartment, I find her rocking my crying son in her arms. Her eyes instantly shoot up to meet mine and widen as they take in my appearance. Suddenly, I feel ashamed of myself. Now that the adrenaline is subsiding, I realize how stupid it was for me to lose control like that. I couldn’t help but react when he uttered such disgusting words; I only saw red. I wipe my bloodied knuckles against my shirt before crossing the living room to sit next to her on the couch.
When she doesn’t speak, I quietly say, “He shouldn’t be coming back,” as if that made everything that happened tonight all right. She nods, seeming content with this information. “I came as soon as I could,” I quickly continue.
“Thank you. I texted you right as he arrived.”
“He just barged in on you?” I ask, looking around to see if there were any signs of forced entry.
“Pretty much. I opened the door and he was right there, in my face. When I told him to leave, he insisted on coming inside, despite my efforts to stop him…” she trails off, taking a deep breath before
continuing. “He never did like to listen to me.” What a domineering asshole. “What did he say to you?” she asks as she looks down at my busted-up knuckles.
“It was nothing, baby. Don’t worry about it.”
She gives me a dubious look as she rocks a now silent Grey in her arms. “He must’ve said something, Trev. I heard you guys going at it.”
Knowing how horrible it fucking sounds, I don’t want to tell her. I don’t want her to become as upset as I feel. Just thinking about his words makes me want to heave. So, why voice them? “Babe, it doesn’t matter. I just couldn’t control my temper. That’s all.”
“Tell me,” she presses, pivoting her body to face mine.
“Ronnie,” I sigh, rubbing a hand over my tired face, “It’s not important.”
I feel her stiffen at my side. “I didn't know we were keeping secrets from each other now.”
“I’m not keeping secrets—” I stop mid-sentence before I say something stupid. “Look, what he said was horrible, okay? He said it because he knew it would piss me off.” When she gives me an expectant look, I finally breakdown and say, “He pretty much said that you were sort of ‘prudish’ and needed a few drinks in your system before you could loosen up enough to have sex.” I spit the words out in a way that screams, You’re the one who wanted to know, so don’t blame me for telling it to you straight.
Her beautiful features scrunch up in anger before she turns her face away from me. Looking to the floor, she takes a deep breath before covering her face with one of her hands. I wrap an arm around her shoulders and give Grey one of my fingers to latch onto while I wait in silence for Ronnie to feel comfortable enough to say something.
When she doesn’t, I hesitantly ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head and continues to look off into space. We sit in silence for a long time. I move Grey onto my lap and play with him while my girl sits in a trance like state at my side. I want to do something to make her feel better, but I remember what I feel like when I’m like this. I know the best course of action is to provide her with a quiet comfort, a shoulder to cry on, and an ear to vent to if she needs it. I don’t push. I don’t pry. I merely wait for her to direct me in the best way to care for her. But Ronnie—being the selfless woman she is—wants to care for me, instead. She looks at my hands; both of which are covered with my and Preston’s blood. Finally, she takes one of my hands into her and gently rubs the top of it with her thumbs. My left hand aches for ice; I know my knuckles will be throbbing tomorrow.
“Let me wash you up,” she says as she lets go of my hand and rises from the couch.
I rock Grey on my lap as I watch her walk to the kitchen and return with a washcloth and a bowl of water. She sits down on the couch beside me, putting her supplies on the table before giving me a shy, sympathetic smile. I can’t believe after everything that just happened, she wants to take care of me. I should be the one caring for her. Before she begins, I brush my lips against hers and smile, wanting to make sure she’s really all right. She smiles in return, but I can’t help notice how drained she looks. I kiss her again before she begins to tend to my hands.
Ronnie starts with my right hand, washing the blood off in the soapy water before covering the wounds with antiseptic. She kisses each one of my fingers before giving me a flushed smile and moving on to my left hand. I’m so relaxed I barely notice what she’s doing as she removes the bandage wrapped around my ring finger.
“I love you,” I whisper, moved by her tenderness.
“I know,” she says with a soft smile. “I love you, too.”
She looks down to get a good look at my wounds. My entire body tenses up as I realize what she’s bound to find. My eyes shoot down to my exposed ring finger and wait for her to react. Shit, what if she hates this! I haven’t even proposed to her yet. I don’t dare look at her face as I watch her slim finger trace the cursive lettering wrapped around my ring finger. Finally, I take a deep breath and muster the courage to look at her beautiful face. I find her features filled with confusion as she studies her full name inked on my skin.
“Trev… What is this?”
I stare back with a blank expression on my face. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I can’t believe how quickly all my ideas have gone to shit. I wanted to do some grand, romantic gesture that would have her blushing for weeks to come—giving her all that heart and flower shit she deserves—but now my cover is completely blown. Her name tattooed on my ring finger is pretty fucking incriminating and I know there’s no way I’m talking my way out of this.
I gaze at her face, only to find that I can’t tell what the hell she’s thinking. She’s usually an open book, but right now I can’t tell whether she’s happy, pissed, or just plain shocked. My heart skips a beat and my adrenaline spikes as I wait for some sort of reaction to appear on her face. Finally, her face begins to flush, and her mouth drops open in, what I assume is, surprise. What I wouldn’t give to be able to read her mind right now.
Before Ronnie gets the chance to freak-out, I do what I do best and crash my lips against hers. I don’t know what to do or say… so, I implement the best and only idea I have. I’ll use sex as a diversion until I can come up with something romantic. I’ll distract her with my cock and hope that after an hour she’ll forget all about my little tattoo. She kisses me back with just as much enthusiasm. Her soft body writhes against mine and a beautiful moan escapes through her lips, causing my cock to grow uncomfortable in my pants.
I pull back, remembering where we are and where my son—most importantly—is. I don’t give her time to talk, but instead, jump up to put Grey in his pack-n-play before returning to the matter at hand. I’ll read him two bedtime stories tomorrow night—but daddy just doesn’t have time right now. Thankfully, he’s already half asleep by the time I tuck him in. I give him a goodnight kiss on the forehead before returning to my, hopefully, very horny girl.
However, by the time I get back to her she’s regained her composure. She looks determined to discuss my new ink. Fuck, I feel uneasy. Expressing my feelings for her and asking her the one question that’s been on my mind for a while now is the last thing I want to do right now. I want the moment to be perfect and proposing to her after beating up her ex-boyfriend isn’t exactly the height of romance. I cross the room and nearly pounce on her, silencing her with my lips and body before she gets the chance to utter a single word. My hands are all over her, playing with her nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt just the way I know she likes it. I want her to be nice and wet, but mostly distracted from what she saw. My tongue traces her plump bottom lip until she opens her mouth and offers me entrance. She tastes salty and so incredibly sweet. My hand drifts down her body until I dip it into the top of her yoga pants and into her panties. She’s so fucking wet. All I want to do is turn her over, yank down her tight, little pants, and claim her right here on the couch. I’d do just that, but I know my girl deserves so much more.
I pull her onto my lap, making sure she’s nice and comfortable before lifting the both of us off the couch. My mouth never leaves hers as I carry her into her bedroom. God, I want her. I’ve never wanted anything more than I do her right now. This woman will hopefully be my wife someday; I love her more than I ever believed I could. I want to worship every inch of her motherfucking body and show her physically just how deeply my emotions run.
I toss her onto the bed and give myself the luxury of taking a moment to look at her curves. It seems like my fresh ink is long forgotten as her gaze settles on my cock, which is pulsing uncomfortably against my fly. I smirk at her, enjoying the way her eyes rake over my body. I begin to slowly take off my clothes. I pull off my shirt, kick off my shoes, and slowly pull the zipper of my jeans down to release my throbbing erection. Her eyes widen, and I nearly blow my load as she licks her lips. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be with a woman like her. If I play my cards right, this thing we have will last forever.
Unable to cont
ain myself a moment longer I pounce on her, kissing her with all the passion I can muster. My cock is poised at her clothed entrance and I can feel her wetness through the thin material of her yoga pants. I just want to rip them apart at the seam and bury myself deep inside of her. Wanting to give her some form of foreplay before I surround myself with her warmth—I break our kiss so I can pull off her top. Her tits bounce from their confinements as I pull off her bra. My lips are wrapped around her nipple before I can throw her bra to the floor beside the bed.
“Trevor, please!” Her voice shakes as she begs and jerks on my hair.
I can’t deny my girl a thing. I bite down on her pert nipple before pulling away to strip her completely. Her pussy is glistening by the time I get her completely naked. I move down her body to kiss her core, but Ronnie reaches down and grabs my ass to stop me.
“I need you now!” she urges, her sweet voice demanding.
She doesn’t have to tell me twice! I’m inside of her tight, wet heat in a single thrust. I moan as she grips me. I have to pause for a moment before my distraction for her ends too soon. Every time I’m inside of her, I feel like I’ve died and gone straight to heaven. Sex has never felt so incredible. I take a deep breath and try to control myself, although, all I want is to buck relentlessly against her. I really wanted to take things slow tonight and make love to her. However, Ronnie seems to have different ideas. She smacks my ass before gripping me, urging me to take her hard. I pull out before thrusting roughly back in, just the way I know she wants it. She wraps her legs around my waist and I plow into her with a heroic speed, watching her tits bounce with every thrust.