Bad Habits Box Set

by Staci Hart

  I broke away and stepped back, watching her pant, barely able to open her eyes.

  “Take off your clothes.” The command was gravelly and low, my voice partially lost to her.

  Her lips were swollen, parted, eyes locked on mine as she crossed her arms, reaching for the hem of her shirt to lift it over her head, hair spilling out of the neck and down her bare back. I unzipped my pants as she unbuttoned hers, slipping my hand in to grip myself, thumb stroking slowly as I watched her fingers pop the button of her pants. With her eyes on my hand, she pushed them down her thighs, stepped out of them and turned, looking back at me over her shoulder to meet my eyes once more as she unlatched her bra and slid the straps down her arms and to the floor. And when she hooked her thumbs in her black panties and pushed them over the swell of her ass, I wouldn’t wait any longer.

  I reached for her.

  She pressed her ass against me as I kissed her neck, hand gripping her hip. Her back arched, arm curling behind her to cup the back of my head where she slipped her fingers into my hair and squeezed, urging me on. My free hand found her soft breast, the curve resting in my palm, and I squeezed once, gently, before trailing lower, stopping between her legs.

  She took a breath when I dragged my finger up the length of her, wet and warm, circling when I reached the top, then back down again and up, circling again as her hips rocked slowly.

  “Lie down.” I let her go, and she crawled onto the bed and rolled over onto her back, watching me. Waiting.

  It seemed like one of us always was.

  I climbed onto the bed, reaching for her leg, kissing her thigh as I hooked it over my shoulder with my eyes on hers. I made my way higher, feeling her thigh tremble against my hand, my lips. And when I reached the top, I ran my tongue across her gently, closed my lips over her and sucked. She gasped — her fingers found my hair and twisted.

  I knew what she wanted.

  I rolled my neck as my tongue traced unrecognizable shapes against the sensitive spot, and my fingers ran up the line, spreading her open before slipping inside slowly. She moaned.

  If my lips hadn’t been busy, I would have smiled.

  I knew her body like it was mine — the months apart had erased nothing. She gasped again as I pressed deeper, and when she clenched once around my fingers, hard, I let her go, kissed up her stomach. Her fingers were still in my hair, and she pulled, urging me, sitting to meet me and take my lips. I cupped her neck, kissing her deep as her hands fumbled with my pants, slipping them in to grip me the second she was able.

  I grabbed her around the waist and rolled us. She moved down my body licking a trail, her hand stroking me slowly until she was between my legs, looking up at me as she licked up my shaft, over the metal ball of my piercing, across the thin, sensitive layer of skin over the bar, then the second ball, rolling her tongue before closing her mouth over my crown. She sucked.

  My mouth hung open as I watched her and she watched me. I ran my tongue along my bottom lip, and she hummed, lids fluttering closed as she dropped down.

  I watched myself disappear into her mouth, reappear, disappear, her tongue flicking against my piercing, sending a shock deep into me. She knew exactly what she was doing to me. I gripped the back of her head, urging her down as her arm wrapped under my thigh, hand gripping my waist as she moved faster. My ass flexed to get as deep as I could without hurting her.

  “Come here,” I growled when I couldn’t take it anymore, and as she climbed up my body, I grabbed her, flipping us over again. I settled in between her legs and reached for her knee, spreading her thighs. She sucked in a breath, rolling her hips, cradling my shaft with her wet length. The bottom ball of my piercing circled her with every wave of her hips, and her lids closed, dark hair fanned out around her.

  I needed her.

  I thrust hard enough to make her gasp before reaching over to her nightstand.

  “No,” she muttered.

  “Rose …”

  She rolled her hips again, circled the piercing. “I haven’t been with anyone else since you. Have you?”

  I brushed her hair from her face and traced her jaw. “No.”

  “Then no. It’s safe. IUD,” she breathed, dragging her nails across my ass as she slipped herself up my shaft until my tip rested just at the edge of her. “Now fuck me.”

  My tongue slipped across my lip as I flexed, slipping into her, pushing until I hit the end. She moaned, head rolling, and I pulled out, eyes down as I flexed again until our bodies met in a seam.

  I bent to kiss her neck stretched out before me like an invitation, licked a trail up to her ear where I breathed, humming soft. She brought up her other knee, her calves pressed against my ribs, opening herself up so I could get deeper.

  “Fuck,” she breathed and reached over her head, bracing herself against the headboard as I pulled out and slammed back in. Her eyes were closed, lips swollen, breasts jostling with every thrust. Her neck arched. Her brow furrowed. Her lips parted with a gasp, stretching wider with a silent cry when I flexed once more, and she exploded around me in a burst, squeezing, pulsing, body tight as she let go.

  I slowed as she did, bending to kiss her breast, closing my eyes as I traced a circle around her nipple before closing my lips, pulling it gently into my mouth. Her fingers slipped into my hair, and I spent a long moment there, cradled in her arms, her breast in my hand, against my tongue.

  When I pulled away, I kissed her sternum and sat, gripping her hip.

  “Roll over.” The words were thick.

  Her lids were heavy as she did what I asked, raising her ass, shoulders pressed to the bed. She looked back at me again, and I ran a hand down her spine, to her hips, grabbing to lift her higher. My hand gripped my base, angling myself until my crown pressed against her.

  I took a breath and pulled her onto me.

  Her lids fluttered closed again with a sigh. Both hands found her hips, heart hammering as I pushed and pulled, my eyes taking everything in. Faster. She moaned. Harder. My heart ached. Deeper. I came with a cry, breath coming in long drags, and I bent over, slipping my arms under her, my chest against her back as I waited for my body to relax.

  She rocked her hips in tiny waves, just enough to send shocks through me, down my thighs.

  I kissed her shoulder blade and ran the tip of my nose across her skin.

  It was more than just sex. I knew from the way she wound her fingers though mine and kissed them with tender lips. I knew from the way those lips curled into the smallest smile. I knew from the way she breathed, from the beat of her heart — I could feel it through her ribs, through my ribs and into my own heart.

  And more than ever before, I was afraid I’d lose her again.

  23

  CRIMSON ED

  Rose

  THE SECOND I WOKE UP, I knew the day was going to suck. It didn’t matter that Patrick’s arms were around me, as confusingly comforting as that was. It didn’t matter that I had the day off, because I’d spend it in the worst way possible.

  I felt that tiny ovarian tweak, the one that turned into a dull ache, then into a cramp that doubled me over as my stupid uterus punished me for not giving it a baby.

  I groaned and hauled ass to the bathroom, dropping my head into my hands as I peed. Because once every month, that dirty redheaded demon who I called Crimson Edwina showed her face and ruined my life for five to seven days.

  See, I was one of those lucky uterus owners who had horribly hellish periods. Periods that no IUD or high-powered birth control could tame. I guess I shouldn’t complain — since getting the IUD years ago, I didn’t have to take muscle relaxers or drink myself stupid for several days to survive Ed’s wrath. So I guess the tradeoff for a solid twenty four hours of hell was better than crying on the couch for a week. Because that first day was always a nightmare.

  Win some, lose some. I was counting it as a win.

  Still didn’t make it fun.

  One Super-Extra-Plus tampon, a pad that bordered on diape
r status, and a handful of Advil later, I limped back to my room and climbed into bed, trying not to whimper.

  Patrick pulled me into his chest. “Is it Ed?”

  “That stupid bitch,” I muttered.

  He chuckled. “Hungry?”

  “No. I want to die.”

  “That’s exactly what she wants. Don’t let her win, Rosie.”

  I couldn’t find it in my heart to laugh, but I smiled.

  “Think you can go back to sleep?” he asked.

  “Maybe for a bit.”

  “Give it a try. Get some rest, okay?” He started to pull away, but I grabbed his arm and tugged him back to me.

  “Don’t go yet. I need a hug.”

  He smiled and squeezed me tighter. “Want me to wait until you fall asleep?”

  I nodded, and he stroked my hair. Even Crimson Ed couldn’t withstand that, and within minutes I’d drifted off to sleep.

  I woke when I heard him come back in a few hours later, kicking off his boots before climbing back into bed with me.

  “I thought you were going to work,” I croaked and nestled into him.

  “I’m off today. How are you feeling?”

  “Like a donkey kicked me in the vagina.”

  He kissed my hair. “Hungry yet?”

  I groaned.

  “I went to Cake,” he cajoled.

  I perked up at that. “Did you get butterscotch cupcakes?”

  “Yup, and chocolate peppermint.”

  I groaned again, but for entirely different reasons. “Oh, my God.”

  “I picked up coffee too. Feel like getting up for that?”

  “Fuck yes.” I crawled out of bed, pulling the comforter with me. I wrapped it around my shoulders as I shuffled into the living room behind him. A heating pad sat waiting on the couch, already hooked up to an extension cord and warming up.

  I paused in the middle of the room, feeling overwhelmed. He’d done all of this for me — I watched his back as he plated cupcakes.

  I felt lucky. Very lucky. I also felt a very large dose of fear.

  Ed carved her name into my guts with a razor, and I hunched over, collapsing onto the couch with a grunt. I pulled the heating pad into my lap, thanking the heavens that such a magical thing existed in the universe. I almost immediately began to feel better.

  Patrick handed me a small plate with the most beautiful cupcake on it before setting my paper cup on the coffee table. I licked my lips as I peeled the paper off, and Patrick walked back to the table for his own, coming back to sit at the other end of the couch.

  He picked up the remote as I took a bite.

  I closed my eyes and moaned when the sweet, soft cake hit my tongue. “Humugah, thish ish sho goo,” I said with my mouth full.

  He smiled. “Feel better?”

  “Mmhmm,” I answered as I took another obscene bite.

  “Good.” He clicked on the television. “So I locked and loaded some movies for you. She’s All That, The Craft, Mall Rats, and Empire Records.”

  I swallowed. “I can’t say no to Sexy Rexy. Plus, slutty teen Renee Zellweger? Score.”

  “Empire Records it is.” He hit play and settled back into the couch as “Video Killed the Radio Star” through the opening credits.

  I watched him unwrap his cupcake, my eyes on his tattooed fingers as he pulled off the paper, then on his jaw as he opened his mouth to take a huge bite. This felt together. Very together. Except that things weren’t supposed to change. I wasn’t supposed to be with him. I’d made my peace with that, for the most part. Kind of. Except here he was, bringing me cupcakes and cuddling with me and acting like he was my boyfriend.

  I felt very still, very quiet as I set my cupcake on the plate and rested it in my lap. “What are we doing, Patrick?”

  He glanced at me and swallowed hard. “I don’t know, Rose. I don’t know that I need to know. Not yet, at least.”

  “I don’t know if I can handle this again.”

  He set down his plate and turned to me, his face stoic as he reached for my hand. He watched his fingers as they played with mine. “I’m not looking for any answers. I don’t need a definition. Not yet. I just know that this feels good, really good. So can we let it ride until we figure out what we want to do about it?”

  “We tried that last time, and look how that turned out.”

  “Do you really think that this time would be the same?”

  I considered it and said, plainly, “No. It could be worse.”

  He shrugged, still watching his fingers. “Or not. I’m not asking you to take a chance on me. I’m suggesting that we don’t talk about it just yet, until we’ve had a little more time.”

  “So you want to play house? Ignore it until we can’t anymore?”

  Patrick met my eyes and smirked. “Maybe not that long, but at least until we’ve had a minute to think about it, about what it all means.”

  I pursed my lips, glancing at the screen where the staff of Empire Records danced around the record store.

  “Do you want me to go?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Do you want whatever this is to end?”

  “No,” I answered quietly. But I’m afraid it will.

  He took my plate away and set it on the coffee table, leaning over to touch my face. “We don’t have to decide what’s next yet, Rose. One day at a time. I’m not asking for anything more than that.”

  I couldn’t say no, not with him looking at me like that, not when I wanted it to magically work itself out, just like he did. “All right.” I cupped his cheek, and he leaned in to kiss me softly, sweetly. And it was then that I knew that one of us would end up brokenhearted.

  24

  STEP ONE

  Patrick

  ALMOST A WEEK HAD PASSED easily, simply. Happily. One day at a time.

  It was the mantra that kept us going. It was about each minute, every second, and being in it, together. It was as if the months apart had never happened, even though the unspoken hurt still waited under the rug,

  I hoped it would stay put indefinitely.

  When I wasn’t with work, I was with Rose, sleeping in her bed, spending days with her, nights at Habits. We were together again. It wasn’t just about sex like she’d said in the start — for most of the last week we didn’t have sex at all, thanks to Ed. But I didn’t mind. It meant more to me to sleep with her curled into my chest than sex ever could.

  Everything felt right.

  With every day that passed, my confidence about the next step grew to the point that I was less afraid, less apprehensive. I didn’t feel certain — I’d presumed to know what Rose felt once, and I paid for that. But I felt like the odds were good. Real good.

  That morning, I’d left Rose asleep in bed with a kiss and a sigh to meet Seth for lunch at Genie’s, which was where I sat, digging into a burger across from my old friend.

  Seth moaned as he chewed. “Jesus. I haven’t had one of Genie’s burgers in forever.”

  “Shame.” I took another bite.

  He adjusted he burger, angling it for a bite. “How’s it going with Rose?”

  I smiled. “It’s good. Really good.”

  “What’s the deal with you two? Like, how did that go down? Because I’ve got to be honest — I always thought if either of us had a chance, it would be me.” He chuckled and bit into his burger.

  I shrugged off a territorial flash as I set down my burger and dusted off my hands. “So this one night, we were at Rose’s place. Lily was already asleep, and Rose and I were watching a movie. I’d felt something … I don’t know, change, a couple of weeks before. I didn’t really know what to do about it until that night. She just looked at me. That was all she had to do. I knew right then I was a goner, and I knew she felt it too. So I proposed a deal.”

  “A deal?”

  “I didn’t want to lose what we had, our friendship, so I thought if we just sort of didn’t talk about it, didn’t label it, we could slip out of it as easily as w
e slipped into it.”

  “How’d that turn out?”

  I chuffed. “It could have worked out, but I fucked it up. Anyway, I told her that if either of us stopped feeling it and wanted out, all we had to do was say the word. We’d call it off, no questions.”

  “Why’d she call it off?”

  “She didn’t. I did.”

  He looked at me blankly for a split-second. “Man, that’s an exceptional level of stupid, Tricky.”

  “Yeah, you’re telling me. I was scared, Seth. You know I don’t do a lot of long term, and I didn’t know how to handle how I felt.”

  “I get that. You’ve been alone enough of your life, either abandoned or betrayed by dicks like me, right?”

  I shook my head. “Come on. I know you did the best you could, but I couldn’t be around what you were caught up in, and you knew that. Not while I was trying to get clean. Stay clean. You said you’d quit.”

  “I know. I haven’t been reliable. I haven’t been a good friend.”

  “You couldn’t help it,” I said, knowing it was the truth.

  “Stop making excuses for me, Tricky,” he answered quietly.

  I sighed. “I always felt like I abandoned you too, you know.”

  “Can’t help somebody who won’t help themselves. It’s not your fault.” He turned the conversation away from our past. “So, you dumped Rose Fisher?”

  I adjusted the top bun of my burger, avoiding his eyes. “I just … I don’t know, man. It was just before the holidays, and everyone was with their families. That time of year is always weird for me, and that year I was also in a relationship, one that had gotten serious. And I wanted that, you know? Like, I wanted her so much that I couldn’t imagine what would happen if she left me. Then I realized she probably would. So I bailed first.”

  “Damn.”

  I nodded. “We didn’t really talk after that, not until recently. She shut the door hard, locked it tight. It’s been hell, man. I see her almost every day, and most of the time, she wouldn’t even look at me. But now …” I picked up my burger again. “She’s mine again. I just don’t want to lose her.”