Betting Bad

by Cathryn Fox

  Her chest is rising and falling as I quickly sheathe myself. She gives me a smile, sweet and slow, as I fall back over her, my lips finding hers again. I kiss her long and deep, and she once again wraps her legs around me. I reach between our bodies, brush my crown over her clit, then position it at her opening.

  “Yes, Please…” she whimpers, lifting her hips to force me inside, but I want to go slow, draw this out. “Ty, fuck me.”

  Her words prompt me into action, and in one quick thrust I power home. Home. Inside Sara, where I was always meant to be. My senses explode as our bodies meld, and I could fucking weep with pleasure. Her wet heat, her moans of satisfaction, and the need gripping my balls, complicate my mission to go slow. I pull out and power back in again. Her thighs squeeze my sides, and I push her damp hair from her face. Our eyes lock, and the air around us changes, charges, becomes so volatile and explosive I’m sure we could light up her entire apartment building in a blackout—for a month.

  “Sara…fuck, Sara. I missed you.”

  “I missed you too, Ty,” she says, and our lips meet.

  Our bodies rock together. Just like old times. For a fleeting minute I pretend we’re back in her college dorm room, the future wide open, with nothing or no one able to come between us. I bask in that for a moment, curl up in it and let it live inside me, thinking about nothing but the hot pulse of need beating at me like a baton.

  In no time at all, my brain shuts down, my body taking over. I hammer into her at a maddening pace. Gentleness gone, I fuck like a man deprived for nine long years. Savage. Hot need drives my thrusts, and Sara opens to me, taking everything I’m giving her. I sink into her warmth, revel in it, lose myself to her completely as I go impossibly deeper.

  “Oh, God, yes, Tyler.” Her nails dig, her hips rise to meet each hard thrust, and I bend to swipe my tongue over her sensitive nipple. She cries out, and her sex clamps around my dick.

  “Fuck, Sara, I’m not going to last.”

  “I want you to take what you need, Ty. Take everything.”

  I swallow hard, because I want what she can’t give me—the trust I once stole from her. If I took it again, it would leave her flayed, hollowed out and lost, far more than she already is.

  I reach between us, press my thumb to her clit, and she clings to me as soft gasps tear from her lungs. Her body clenches down on my cock, her hot cum coating me, dripping over my drawn up balls, and in that moment I know I’m a goner.

  I continue to pound into her, my body seeking more…something other than just release. On the brink of orgasm, a growl rips from my lungs. One hand crushes in her hair and I hold her close, yet can’t seem to get her close enough. Her hands race over me, edgy, out of control, pulling, pushing, and I feel a possessive tug on my emotions. Ruthless, my hands move to her hips and dig in as I let go, and pleasure burns raw and deep as I explode inside her, giving her a part of me…all of me.

  I collapse on top of her, and we’re both panting, gasping for breath. Her hands move slower over my back, urgency gone as she reacquaints herself with my body. I shiver under her soft touch, and she chuckles, the sound like music to my ears.

  Tenderness moves through me, and a need I can’t assuage—will never be able to assuage when it comes to Sara—pulls at me, as I roll to the side and drag her with me. I hold her tight, her little wisps of breath tickling my skin. As I come back down to earth and stare at her ceiling, a car backfires on the street. My ears ring at what sounds like a gunshot and my brain makes the leap to nine years ago, when a dozen cop cars closed in on me. Do I wish I’d done things differently? Hell, yeah. But I’d committed a crime—made a split-second decision that ruined our future—and I can’t change that now.

  As reality comes crashing over me like a cold shower, it pushes back my post-orgasm bliss. Regret inches its way into my gut, and I feel a fresh flash of panic. What the fuck have I done? I tense and sit up. Sara sits up beside me, her eyes wide, stark, conflicted as she looks at me.

  As my bliss dissolves, I shake my head. “Sara…”

  “I know,” she says, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know the truth about everything, and when it comes right down to it, I was caught with a shit-load of illegal guns. The fact that I did it to save Lucas doesn’t matter. My actions cost us our future. “We shouldn’t have done this,” she whispers. I turn to see the tears forming in her wounded eyes, her body shaking all over.

  “Fuck.” I put my arm around her, drag the blankets up to keep her warm, and hold her to me. I press a kiss to her forehead, and put her head on my shoulder. “I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”

  “Why did you?” she asks, and inches away from me to pull her knees to her chest—a defensive move.

  Because I fucking love you.

  “It’s Caleb,” I say instead. “I don’t like him.”

  “You don’t know him.”

  “Neither do you.”

  She makes a sound, a half laugh, half cry. “You’re right, and I guess you never really know anyone, do you?”

  As her words hit like a slap, and a new kind of tension in the air, I say, “What’s his last name?”

  “What does it matter?”

  “I want to know.”

  “Why, so you can check up on him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tyler. Stop.”

  “You can tell me, or I’ll find it out on my own, either way…”

  “It’s Douglas, okay. Caleb Douglas.”

  I lock that away.

  “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. Is it just him or is it any guy I want to date?”

  “It’s him,” I say. At least I think it is. He rubs me the wrong way, but more importantly, he looks at her the wrong way. “I don’t want you to date him.”

  She goes quiet for a moment, and tightens her hands around her legs. “I have to date him, Tyler. Don’t you see? I have to. I have to close my heart to you. It’s the only way I can get past us.” She sniffs and shakes her head, and her hair falls over her shoulders. “I should have done it a long time ago. I don’t know what I was holding out for.”

  I sit there for a moment, and try to wrap my brain around what she’s saying. “You’ve not been with anyone?”

  “No,” she says.

  “The condoms?” A tear clings to her lashes and I gently wipe it away.

  She chokes out a strangled laugh, even though there is nothing funny about this situation. “Kaitlyn gave them to me.”

  I scrub my hand through my hair, and hate how happy that makes me. I want Sara happy. Want her with a man who will do right by her. Caleb isn’t him. Neither am I. “Anyone but him, Sara.”

  She regards me with wide eyes, open, vulnerable, hurt in far too many ways. “Why?”

  “He’s not the guy for you.”

  “Then who is, Tyler? You?” she shoots back, her bliss long gone as hurt turns to anger.

  I grit my teeth. I want to be the guy for her, but she deserves someone better. Someone who isn’t going to tear apart what they have, without her ever really knowing why.

  “I don’t trust him, okay,” I say so harshly, her head rears back.

  She takes a quick moment to compose herself, then glares at me. “What do you know about trust, Tyler?” she asks, her voice tight, accusing, indignation sweeping through her.

  Everything.

  I shake my head. So this is it. This is how it begins and ends. “Nothing,” is all I say as I climb from the bed. “Nothing at all.”

  6

  Sara

  Saturday passed in a blur, literally. Tears clouded my eyes for the better part of the day, dripping onto my textbook and making studying impossible. Here I thought Ty couldn’t break my heart any more than he did. Boy, was I wrong. Watching him walk out on me, seeing his scarred and battered body retreat after making sweet beautiful love to me, picked away at the already tattered threads, undoing the work I put into stitching my heart together over the last nine years. But the
responsibility lies with me, too. I gave myself over to the things I was feeling. When it comes to him, I simply have no strength to resist the pull between us. All the more reason to avoid him and get back into the dating scene.

  My phone pings, and from my comfy seat on the sofa, I turn toward the kitchen. My damn phone has been going off all day, but I haven’t answered it. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone. Then again, I suppose if it’s Mom or Dad I should check, otherwise they’ll be pounding on my door to make sure I got home safely from my date last night. In much the same way Tyler had.

  I drop the carton of ice cream I’d been picking at for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and pad to the kitchen, where my phone is sitting on the counter. I glance at the screen and see I have messages from Caleb, Kaitlyn, and…nothing from Tyler.

  My heart goes into my throat. When he left here last night, I never expected to hear from him again. So why am I so disappointed that he hadn’t called? Jesus, I’m such a mess. I slide my finger across the screen, and read Kaitlyn’s message.

  So, how did it go? Did you have some straight up awesome sex with Caleb?

  Oh, I had some straight up awesome sex, but it wasn’t with Caleb.

  I don’t kiss and tell, I text back.

  Ohmigod, you did. I want deets, girl. Spill.

  I set the phone down, walk to the fridge and open it. My stomach growls. Other than a bottle of wine, a carton of milk, and some eggs and cheese, it’s pretty much empty. I shut the fridge and think about making a grocery store run when my phone rings. I nearly jump two feet in the air. I check the display before answering. It’s Kaitlyn, no doubt wanting all the dirty details. What will I tell her?

  I slide my finger across the screen. “What’s up?” I say and try to inject a lightness into my tone. Even I know I’ve failed miserably.

  “Um, I think I should be asking you that question.”

  God, I really need to stop wearing my emotions on my sleeve. “I’m okay,” I say, and feel the tears threatening again. “How are you?” I deflect. “Did you go out last night with Dave?”

  “You’re not okay.”

  “Kait—”

  “What did he do? He didn’t hurt you did he? So help me, I’ll feed him his balls if he did.”

  “No. He didn’t. He was a perfect gentleman.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  Frustration builds inside me. “I…just am.”

  “I’m coming over,” Kaitlyn says.

  I shake my head even though she can’t see me, and walk into my bedroom. I glance at myself in the mirror, take in my beautifully bruised body, a reminder of all the ways Ty touched me last night. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay,” I say, even though I know it’s futile. When Kaitlyn sets her mind to something, nothing can stop her. “I’m just studying,” I fib.

  “You are not okay. Have you eaten?” Clearly she knows me well, and the concern in her voice warms me. I used to get annoyed when she tried to set me up, but deep inside I know she’s doing it because she cares and wants to see me walking among the living again.

  “No.” I glance at the clock. “Don’t you have a date tonight? With Jack, right?” Sometimes I can never keep her men straight.

  “I’ll break it.”

  “Kaitlyn—”

  “I’ll grab us a pizza and be there within the hour.”

  I want to protest I’m so not in the mood for company, but she hangs up. I stare at my phone, but before I power down, I check Caleb’s message.

  Had a great time last night. Are you up for seeing the sights tonight?

  I swallow, Ty’s words of warning filling me with a measure of unease. Is there really something wrong with Caleb or is it just Tyler being overprotective of me, not wanting me with anyone but him? But I can’t be with him. I was lost in a pit of darkness and despair when he went to prison and it took me years to crawl out of that fiery hell. I refuse to go back. I can’t go back.

  I run my fingers over the phone and text Caleb back. Rain check? I have to study.

  His text comes back fast. Professors!

  I laugh at that and some of the tension eases out of me. I set my phone on the counter, and pad down the hall. I jump in the shower, needing to wash the scent of Tyler’s skin from my body. If only I could wash the memories away from my brain so easily. I scrub my skin until it’s almost raw, and wrap a soft cotton towel around me to ease the sting.

  God, if Mom or Dad knew what I’d done, well, I shiver to think about it. They were the ones who were left with the broken pieces of me after Tyler left. I do know one thing for certain. Dad would never let Tyler back on his field. That would be a shame, because I think it’s something they both need.

  I dress and dry my hair as I wait for Kaitlyn, and when I hear a knock on the door, I rush to it. My steps slow as something niggles in the back of my mind. How could Kaitlyn have gotten in? She didn’t buzz me to let me know she was here, and she doesn’t have a key. My heart jumps into my throat, because there’s only one person I know who isn’t deterred by a lock.

  I look through the peephole and my legs go weak. I stand there, shocked, but ripples of bliss dance over my skin, so goddamn happy to see Tyler outside my door, it horrifies me. A lot. There is no room in my life for this kind of need. I breathe deep, and as I let the air out slowly I decide not to open it. I can pretend I’m not here. It’s not like he’s follows my every move right?

  “Open the door, Sara.”

  His deep voice curls around me, seeps under my skin, fills me with a longing so powerful it physically hurts. My body shakes, uncontrollably. I wrap my arms around myself and hug tight as I work to recover. No way can I open that door. I won’t open that door. Deciding to wait it out, wait for him to give up, I inch back, afraid he can hear my heart crashing against my chest.

  “I know you’re in there.”

  Damn him.

  I wait another moment, and glare at the door, willing him to go away. But this is Ty, and he’s going to stand there until I finally give in. The fight goes out of me. God, I am so pathetic. With a miserable groan, I close my hand around the knob. Ty holds silent as I unlock the door and inch it open. I make the mistake of looking at him, catching the heat backlighting his eyes as he gazes at me. My heart flutters like a silly schoolgirl with an impracticable crush on someone she can never have. But scarred and all, he’s still the handsomest man I know.

  “Hi, Sara,” he says.

  God, when he says that to me, in that low sexy voice, it temps me in far too many ways. My chest clenches and I pinch the bridge of my nose to keep from touching him, hurtling myself at him and begging him to take me again.

  I harden myself, and my voice holds all kinds of accusations when I ask, “How did you know I was home?”

  He stiffens, his body looking bigger and tougher than when he walked out on me last night. “I just did.” His gaze rakes over me, a hot caress, and I become acutely aware of my yoga pants and t-shirt, the state my hair is in, and the red puffiness around my eyes. But what do I care how I look? I’m not trying to impress him.

  “Tyler, if you’re—”

  “Can I come in?”

  I hold the door tight. Not that I think he’ll push his way in, I don’t. But if I let it go, I think my wobbly knees might go out from underneath me. “I think we said everything we needed to say to each other.”

  “I’m not here to talk, Sara. I can’t find my wallet. I think it must have fallen out of my pocket when…”

  He lets his voice fall off, like he can’t bring himself to say, when we were making love. “Oh,” I say, and inch the door open. “Come in, then.”

  He steps into my small apartment, his big body eating up the space and overwhelming me. “I’ll go look.” I try to sound calm, even though my heart is racing.

  I turn, and his warm breath is hot on my neck, fanning the need inside me when he says, “I’ll help you.” He stands close, so close the hairs on my nape tingle with excitement.

  Get it t
ogether, Sara.

  I hesitate for a moment. Tyler in my bedroom again. I can see all kinds of wrong with that scenario. “Okay,” is all I manage to get out, as heat vibrates through me.

  He follows me down the hall and when I enter the bedroom, see the mussed sheets, warm memories of last night wash over me. I hear his throat work as he swallows, and can only imagine he’s reliving the night too.

  I glance around, looking everywhere for his wallet, a desperate need to focus on something other than the big man looming behind me. “Maybe it fell under the bed.” I drop to my knees, go down on my arms and glance under the bed. A dark tortured noise cuts thought the air, and my pulse leaps.

  “Sara, get up.”

  Instantly realizing my mistake, I grab his wallet, brush the dust off it, and jump to my feet. Heat burns along my neck and moves into my face as he grips his hair and tugs like he’s in total agony.

  “I found it,” I say quickly, berating myself for sticking my ass in the air like that. He takes it from me and shoves it into his pocket. But he doesn’t move. He just stands there, dominating my bedroom as his blue eyes burn through me, strip me bare, and leave me quivering like a leaf in a windstorm. My composure slips a little and I suck in a breath, trying not to feel so vulnerable and exposed beneath his dark stare.

  “I guess that’s it then,” I say.

  He looks tense, poised for a fight—or something else—as he takes a measured step toward me. Honest to God, if he touches me again, I’ll fall apart, cave, go down for the count. No way can I let myself get lost on that dark path. I’ll never find my way out of it this time. Never. Pain burns though me, scratching my throat raw and I try to swallow past it.

  “Ty,” I croak out, but he stops when we hear a noise at my door.

  Kaitlyn!

  “I’m guessing these flowers are from Caleb,” Kaitlyn says, her voice trailing down the hall. “I know you said he was a gentleman, but he must have done something bad. You’re crying and he’s sending flowers.” A pause and then, “Never mind him. Tonight we’ll hit Studio Paris and we’ll find you a real man. One who won’t make you cry.”