A Year of You

by A. D. Roland

  He wouldn’t ever hurt me. She knew it like she knew who she was. The beast in him was the beast in her. As Nine Inch Nails poured out of the speakers, Mattie felt herself relaxing into the grind and beat.

  She closed her eyes. West sang softly to himself. She didn’t want to admit what his voice did to her. It reached low and deep, affecting her inside and out. Chills raced up and down her arms while a fire burned in her belly. She drew a shaky breath, wishing she’d gotten a better glimpse of his weapon of mass destruction. All she recalled was the salty tang of his skin and the musky scent of his arousal. Her lips parted, and her breath increased slightly when she thought about the way he thrust into her mouth, touched the back of her throat. She hadn’t needed to see it to know it was good-sized. Big enough to thrill. What would he feel like inside her? Her sides ached from his rough tickling. She loved it though, the contact that left no question about who she belonged to, even if it was just for that single moment.

  I wasn’t K’s, for that moment. Mattie sucked in a deep breath, reveling in her freedom. She was sure he would feel unlike anything else, thrusting deep into her. Her nipples puckered against the soft cotton-blend fabric of her top. The sweatshirt jacket weighed heavily on the insistent nubs. He’d done an amazing job, laving and sucking the one nipple. The more she thought about it, the more furious the fire raged in her. She hoped she could find her vibrator once she got back to her room.

  The warm sudden contact of his hand on her thigh made her yelp and jump.

  “Chill,” he said, startled by her reaction.

  “Sorry. Half asleep.” “Yeah, right. What were you dreaming about? You were breathing kind of heavy.”

  “Wasn’t about you.”

  Mattie shifted her legs, squeezing her thighs together. At a convenience store bathroom a few miles back, she had gotten rid of all traces of her arousal, but now she felt as slick as ever. Damn the man, she thought. I’ve gone years without getting all worked up over some dick, and he spends an hour with me and I’m so hot I can’t stand it.

  She crossed her legs and turned back to the window.

  “You know, you’re sort of pretty when you’re all hot and bothered.”

  “I am not hot and bothered!” How did he know? West laughed out loud.

  “I didn’t mean now. I meant back there. And you just basically admitted you were. Besides, you’re so turned on right now I can smell it.”

  “I am not. Shut up. Leave me alone.”

  “I bet you want me to do more than that right now.” She had a mental image of him holding her down, so hard it hurt, and pounding into her like there was no tomorrow. She forced the image away and shook her head so vehemently that her hair fell out of the loose ponytail. “You’re so conceited.”

  West smirked and shifted back in his seat, triumph in the set of his shoulders. “So what are you going to do about Emeline?” she asked, intentionally trying to derail him. He frowned.

  “I...I don’t know, Mattie.”

  “You watched her get finger-banged by two strangers.” Mattie swiveled in her seat, drawing her knee up into the cushy seat so she could face him over the console. “Forgiving her is basically giving her the ‘ok’ to go on and do it again. And she will do it again, West. And again. And again. She’ll do it until you’re the one with your balls hanging out in the wind.”

  “Why would she be with me for so long if she didn’t care about me like that?”

  “Familiarity. A ride to the mall. Who knows what goes through her stupid shallow little brain. Maybe she just needs to know there’s somebody waiting for her if everything else falls through.”

  West stared out at the road, a stormy look on his face. Mattie wished she could scream some sense into him. Hit him with something until he saw Em as what she truly was: a bloodsucking succubus straight from hell.

  “You’ll have a lot more fun without her. No more forced clubbing at those hip-hop places, no more five-hour-shopping trips. No more annoying friends. If you’re scared of being by yourself, it won’t be for long. You’re a great guy.”

  She paused and bit her lip before saying, with a laugh, “And once it gets out that you got a dick like that, the girls’ll be flocking to your door.”

  He gaped at her, wide-eyed. For a guy, he sure was embarrassed easily.

  ***

  The house was dark, monolithic on the riverbank in the still, early-morning hours. West punched the gate access code into the keypad and waited for the steel gate to roll open. He pulled up in front of the courtyard entry.

  “What are you doing?” Mattie asked as he got out of the car with her. “Walking you to the door. My mama raised me right.” He walked her through the dark square space, where not even the moon glimmered into the decorative courtyard. Mattie stumbled over the paving bricks more than once, grateful for West’s supportive hand under her elbow. When she got to the front door, she fumbled with her keys for a second.

  Without warning, West pushed her up against the front door, pressing tight against her body. “Probably not fair,” he whispered, flipping her skirt up one thigh and gliding his hand along the smooth length. “Not fair at all.”

  “West, what are you doing?” Mattie gasped, bringing her hands up to grip the doorframe.

  “Retaliation,” he grated into her ear. She nearly cried out loud when he seized her ass through the tiny boy-cut panties. “You want this, don’t you? All you have to do is tell me to stop.”

  She could barely breathe. Her blood raged and her pussy pulsed with need, so strong she wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk. “Don’t stop,” she gasped into his ear. He

  The flimsy material slid down her legs. His violence thrilled her to weakness, and she sagged against the wall.

  His fingers dipped into her damp folds without warning, claiming her clit. He pinched it lightly between two fingers, making her whimper from the intense pleasure-pain. He released her and began to explore her intimate creases with increasing pleasure, sliding and gliding around her entrance, but never delving within.

  She was ready to cry out for him to do something when he grabbed her by the arm and hauled her back into the courtyard to one of the decorative stone benches, one of the ones close to the wall. He pulled her into his lap, facing forward, and slid one finger in, two fingers on the next thrust, three on the next. Already she felt filled up, like she couldn’t take anymore. Her body begged for more though.

  “Four,” she gasped. His laugh rumbled softly in his chest, and he obliged her. Mattie pivoted her hips so he could reach her better. He hooked his fingers and touched something deep inside her that made her yowl softly. She snapped her mouth shut, amazed by the sound she made.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, amazed by the sensation he afflicted on her again and again.

  That’s my g-spot. Never believed it was really there before!

  “Giving you the best damn orgasm of your life, Mattie.” He continued to work her g-spot, then reached around her waist with his other hand to play with her clit. She wondered, through the fog he was inducing in her mind, how he could feel anything, as wet as she was. Mattie reached up, back, with both arms and put her hands around his head, pulling him down to kiss her temple, her cheek her hair. He bit her shoulder, hard. The spark of pain added to what he was doing within her panties and she writhed against him.

  The sensations built up in her, overriding the chill of the night, the squelch of his fingers through her wet, tight opening. She sucked her belly in and bore down on his fingers lightly, intensifying the tingles and sparks flying through her, making her body convulse and ripple.

  He murmured, “Play with your nipples, Mattie.”

  She let his hair go with one hand and did as he said. Every time she touched herself she shot closer and closer to the precipice.

  Closer and closer, finally, finally over!

  She keened louder than she expected, bucking her hips into his driving hand. It took forever for the shock waves to fade away and the
lightning-strike fire to ease out of her torso and legs. He bit her again, swiping his tongue over the swollen flesh. Every muscle trembled and shook. Slowly, he withdrew his hand.

  Mattie crumpled against him, feeling absurdly like she was going to cry. Never, ever, ever had she ever experienced anything like that. Vulnerable, she twisted on his lap and buried her face in his shoulder.

  What if he doesn’t want to hold you?

  He proved the traitorous little voice in her head wrong by wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss into the top of her head. His erection dug into her thigh like a piece of iron.

  She had no words. None were needed. West’s lists moved across her shoulder, the back of her neck, and found her earlobeShe smelled herself on his hands. Embarrassed by the natural scent, she used the hem of her dress to wipe the last of her slick fluid from his hand.

  “Stop,” he whispered, kindly. “I’d rather have you there than not.” What did that mean? He was still disturbingly huge beneath her thigh. She shifted her weight on him, grinning at his hiss of discomfort.

  “Want me to take care of that?” she offered.

  “No, ‘cuz then we wouldn’t be even.” Mattie rolled her eyes. “What was all this tonight?”

  He tilted her chin up and kissed her slowly, deeply. After he pulled away, he replied, “Just two friends having fun.”

  “Don’t expect me to call you in the morning,” she teased when he finally headed for Em’s Navigator. His truck was parked at her condo, down the road.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied.

  ***

  He waited until he heard the quiet thunk of the heavy wooden and glass front door close before he got into the SUV and pulled out of the driveway. He got a few yards down the road before the insistence in his groin made him pull over. The road was private, deserted at this hour. He freed his dick from the confines of his jeans and began to stroke it. His hands were too dry, the friction too painful.

  He wished he had Mattie on his hands, on his dick. He fumbled through the center console looking for lotion, something to help. Smelling like Em but lusting after Mattie’s tight, wet pussy, he finished himself off into a pink tissue, gasping and sweating. As a final insult, he tossed the tissue into the passenger floorboard.

  What was she doing to him? He wanted to hate Mattie. Wanted to find a way to drive her away, out of the McKendrick family. But what if she’s really Elaine?

  No matter what, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It wasn’t just the elements he’d discovered tonight. It was the way she lived life. She laughed at Emeline’s pettiness and materialism, preferring having a good time acting like kids in Wal-Mart than browsing through the quiet racks of ridiculous designer clothes. Mattie saw life as an adventure, something to grab and hang on to for dear life. She liked her music and her sex fast and rough.

  Mattie was lying about something. More than one thing, he was sure. What was she really doing here?

  What was it, though, and was it serious enough to destroy not only her life, but those that had begun to hope she was someone she most obviously wasn’t?

  ***

  Mattie tiptoed through the house, thrilled and weak and wild and woozy all at the same time. Her body still ached from the monster orgasm—true to West’s word, it had been the best one of her life. Not that she’d had too many that qualified in the running. Self-induced didn’t count, and those that K had forced from her didn’t either.

  She hated the way the house made her feel. At night, the downstairs was huge and silent, echoing with every step and whisper. She tiptoed down the plush runner, trying to muffle her breaths.

  The sensation of being watched prickled at the back of her neck. She turned around, straining to see into the shadows in all the decorative niches. “Somebody there?” she whispered. The slight sound bounced off the vaulted ceilings. “Hello?”

  Nobody answered. Mattie tried to shake off the paranoia. She was glad nobody answered. She didn’t want to explain the ripped underwear wadded up in the palm of her hand.

  She made it to the marble stairs. Pausing at the bottom step, she gazed around the darkened first floor.

  Nothing seemed out of place, but there was something wrong.

  Mattie took the stairs quickly, mincing up on the balls of her feet. Halfway up, her foot hit a slick patch. She clutched at the banister, biting back an outcry of fear. After a tense, heart-stopping moment, she found her balance.

  Shaking from a million emotions and a cruel rush of fright-induced adrenaline, she took another shaky step. This time both feet flew out from under her.

  Mattie smacked face-first into the unforgiving marble steps, unable to stifle her yelp of pain. Stars and sparks flashed in front of her eyes and the room spun. She gripped the banister with one hand, smearing her other palm through a thin, greasy substance smeared all over at least three steps. Crying silently from the pain, she huddled against the wall, too scared of what she’d feel if she touched her face. The left side of her face was a red-hot blur of throbbing agony. She could already feel her eye and cheek on that side swelling tight.

  Slowly, she crawled up the stairs and limped into her bedroom. Without even bothering to look at herself, she curled up on her bed and wept.

  Chapter Seven

  “You know I can’t pay all that back by the end of the year, Mr. McKendrick.” West rose from his chair and paced the floor behind it. He stopped and leaned on the back. Two weeks had slipped by since the clubbing incident with Mattie. He’d barely spoken to her since then, except to ask her what the hell had happened to her face. The first time he’d seen her with the entire left side of her face black and blue, a Neanderthalic sense of possession welled up in him. “This time next year, I’ll be able to pay more on my father’s debt.”

  “What about your own debt, son?”

  Why do you call me ‘son’ in one breath and threaten to take my very world away the next?

  Emeline wouldn’t talk to him, not that he was real sure what to say to her. “Next year, Mr. McKendrick. I just hired a bunch of new guys to help with the lawn maintenance and landscaping. If the nursery side of my business doesn’t start to pay off, the lawn care side will pick up the slack.”

  “West, your parents weren’t around long enough to teach a sense of responsibility, were they, boy?”

  McKendrick steepled his hands on the desk. His eyes glared intensely into West’s, creating a weird, crawly sensation on his skin. Ire rose in him at the jab toward his parents.

  “My parents did a good job with what they had. My business is my dad’s dream. I can’t lose it.”

  “He completely squandered the money I gave him, West.”

  “No, he didn’t. He used every cent of it to get started. He died before he accomplished anything, and I picked up where he left off. I admit, the whole greenery side of EME Greens isn’t taking off like I hoped, but I’m damn good at landscaping and maintenance.”

  McKendrick sighed and leaned back in his creaky leather chair. “West, you’ve been struggling to make that nursery into something for five years. You’ve done nothing but stay in the red since you opened.”

  “This year is different. The weather has been perfect. This is the year I can turn it around. I just need an extension on the loan. I swear, Mr. McKendrick. This time next year I’ll have your money.”

  McKendrick pressed his lips together. “This is the third year you’ve told me that, West. I’m sorry. I can’t extend this any longer. This is money out of my pocket. You repay the combined debt of thirty- five thousand dollars by December twenty-fifth, or you will be evicted from the property.”

  West stormed out of the study, so angry he couldn’t see straight. Em made a beeline for him, her cell phone clamped between her shoulder and her ear. “West, what’s going on?”

  Great. Now she decides to talk to me. He wondered where Mattie was. “Come on, I need to talk to you.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door.

  ***
>
  Mattie edged into McKendrick’s huge, intimidated study. The room made her even more nervous than the man behind the monolithic desk.

  “Sit, Matilyn.”

  She sat down in one of the creaky leather chairs in front of his desk. A life-size painted portrait of the McKendrick family—Elaine included—hung on the wall behind his desk. Beneath it was a decanter of a dark amber liquor, the spotless glasses gleaming in the recessed lighting.

  “The results of the blood tests will be back soon.”

  “That’s good,” she replied, not real sure what she was supposed to say.

  “I advise you to not get too attached to anyone, Matilyn. These tests are going to prove without a doubt that you aren’t my daughter.”

  “I know. You weren’t Elaine’s paternal father,” Mattie said, wondering if she should have revealed that wild card.

  McKendrick gazed at her shrewdly. “How do you know that?”

  “I know a lot of things, Mr. McKendrick.” He leaned back in his chair.

  “You are not wanted here. I don’t know who you are, or what you want, but this charade will only go on until I have the concrete evidence I need to prove that you are not Elaine. My mother-in-law won’t be able to insist you are someone who has been dead for over twenty years any longer.”

  “I’m doing this for Ruth Ellen.” Mattie twisted the hem of her shirt between her fingers. “I’m not doing this for any other reason.”

  “Ruth Ellen is a sick old woman. She doesn’t have complete control of her facilities.”

  Mattie shrugged. “Mr. McKendrick, I promise. When those tests say that I am not Karen’s daughter, I’ll leave immediately. But I promise you, I know without a doubt who my mother is.”