by Cat Johnson
It took them no time to get there, thanks to Garret breaking a few of the town’s speeding laws. In the brief time he’d taken to drive the distance, she’d moved her hand up his thigh. She was currently stroking her fingers in between his legs, the back of her hand rubbing against the denim covering his balls with every stroke.
His heart pounding, he was barely able to think by the time he pulled into her driveway and cut the engine. He turned in his seat to look at her.
Her red lips bowed in a smile, making her look every bit as seductive and enticing as a centerfold. “Come on inside.”
A hell of an invitation and he wasn’t about to say no. “All right.”
It was all kind of a blur. Her opening the front door. The tiny dog that rushed him, barking. The ball of fluff wasn’t much taller than his boots so he didn’t worry about it too much. Besides, Marci had his hand and was dragging him down the hallway toward what he could only assume would be her bedroom. Once inside, there was no doubt the room was hers, right down to the pink canopy bed, cheerleading pompoms and old photos and trophies from their school days.
Garret glanced at her. “Haven’t changed things much, have you?”
She didn’t answer, not that it was really a question. Instead, she pushed him backward toward the bed. The bend of his knees connected with the mattress and buckled, and then he was lying flat, staring up at the pink tulle as Marci crawled on top of him. She straddled his legs and began to unbuckle his belt.
Wrapping his hands around her waist, he decided he liked a take-charge kind of girl. He slid his hands upward, beneath her shirt, and cupped the breasts he’d been enjoying the view of since meeting her at the bar. They lay heavy in his hands. God, he loved big tits. As soon as she finished getting his belt open, he’d definitely relieve Marci of her shirt and those nipples would be in his mouth.
“Get your fucking hands off my wife!”
Garret’s heart nearly stopped. The upward motion of his hands on her tits sure as hell did stop as he yanked them back from where he’d snuck beneath her bra.
“What the hell? Wife?” He frowned at Marci.
She shrugged. “I’m kinda married to him.”
Garret dumped her off his lap and scrambled off the far side of the mattress just as Marci’s husband, who was looking larger and madder the closer he got, started toward him. Then Garret took a closer look at his would-be assailant. “Greg?”
“Yeah, I recognize you too. Don’t think I don’t. Garret James, all famous and uppity now, thinking he can swoop back into town and steal other men’s wives. Well, you just remember I was the star quarterback breaking Waldon High records when you were just a geek covered in cow snot.”
Holding his hands up in front of him in what he hoped was a non-confrontational way, Garret shook his head. “I never wanted to steal your wife. She didn’t tell me she was married. I swear. And she’s not wearing a ring.” He looked at Marci now. “You said you lived here at your parents’ house.”
“I do. Now. I moved in last night when I left him.” Marci shot a less-than-loving glance at her red-faced husband.
Shit. This was not good. No man wanted to get caught between a fighting husband and wife.
“Look, I’m sorry. This is just a misunderstanding. You two need to talk things out. I’m just gonna leave you alone.” He eyed the path to the door, wondering if he could make it out of the room before Greg choked him to death.
But one glance at Marci’s husband, now sunken onto the bed, his head bowed and shoulders heaving, had Garret taking a second look. Was he crying? Aw, crap. Now he really needed to get the hell out of here. The minute this guy got his head together and realized Garret had seen him in tears, he’d really want to kill him.
He began backing toward the door when Greg raised his tear-filled gaze to him. “I just try to be a good husband, you know? But nothing’s ever good enough for her. I can’t help it if I only make minimum wage. Try getting a better job around here with just a high school education. It ain’t easy, and all she does is bitch, but does she get a job to help out with the bills? No.”
“Uh, times are bad. I’m sure you both do the best you can.” Garret glanced at Marci and saw her roll her eyes. He hooked a thumb toward the door. “I’m just gonna take off—”
“Garret James, you made it good though, didn’t you? Driving that fancy truck out there in the drive.” Greg’s eyes narrowed.
“Really, the loan on that truck is huge. I don’t even own it. The bank owns it.” Something sounding like a giggle snuck out of Garret’s throat as his adrenaline pulsed.
Good thing his truck was fully insured, because Greg could probably do some kind of damage to it, and it seemed like the truck was what he was focused on at the moment.
The hulking man stood and took a step closer, and Garret realized exactly how much Greg dwarfed his five-foot-nine-and-a-half-inch frame. Being big and tall was not in the rider’s favor when on the back of a bull—during a fight however, it was a different story entirely.
Greg laid one big hand on Garret’s shoulder and he braced himself for a punch, but it didn’t come. Instead, Greg patted him a few times. “I shoulda been nicer to you in high school. I’m sorry I wasn’t.”
“Really. It’s fine. You were fine.” Garret dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand.
“Nope. I was an ass. And I married a bitch. Guess that was my punishment.” Greg dropped his hold and turned back to Marci. “You can stay living here. I don’t care. I’m done.”
He strode out the door with Marci scampering after him. “What do you mean stay here? I’m not moving back in with my parents.”
“Then you shouldn’t have left last night.”
As their raised voices faded down the hall, Garret was left alone in the pink room. He seriously considered crawling out the window before they came back. Instead, he snuck out into the hallway and spotted the kitchen. All the houses on this block were built alike and he’d had a friend who lived in one just like it. There should be a door in that kitchen, a door that led outside to the driveway and freedom. While the unhappily married couple argued in the living room by the front door, the dog barking at them as they yelled at each other, Garret snuck quietly out the back door.
Married bliss, his ass. If this scene today was any indication of matrimonial happiness, he was never getting married. No fucking way. Everyone else could just keep that shit. Garret wasn’t falling for the lies about how great marriage was because he’d witnessed the truth first hand. He could be totally in love like his father and mother had been, and then lose her to something out of his control. Or he could get legally bound to a bitch like Marci who would punish him the rest of his life.
He leapt into his truck and started the engine as fast as his shaking hands could get the key in the ignition. He had to swerve wide and back onto the lawn to get around Greg’s truck parked behind him, but there was no other choice. He sure as hell wasn’t going to ask Greg to move his car. That grass would grow back and fill in his tire marks on the front lawn…eventually.
Still not convinced he’d made a clean getaway, Garret didn’t breathe freely again until he was speeding down the main street of town again. He gripped the steering wheel so tight his fingers started to tingle as he drove back to his father’s house.
He blew a breath out slowly and tried to calm himself. Now what? Hell. It had to have been at least an hour since he’d left the house. His father had had the food all cooked by the time Garrett had left. Maybe they’d eaten and then gone out again. Or Molly could have finished dinner and then gone home. Even better.
No matter what, he had to give it a shot. He’d rather chance going home than go back to the bar where Greg might come looking for him.
Shit, his belt was still half-open. He tried to steer with his knees and fasten it again, all the while realizing how lucky he was Greg hadn’t put him in the hospital.
When Garret pulled into the drive, he knew his hopes that it was safe to
go home were squashed. Molly’s car was still parked in front of the house. Fine. He’d snuck out of one house already today. He’d just sneak into this one. He could slide in the side door quietly and make his way to his room without his father and Molly ever knowing.
As quietly as he could, Garret eased open the door and slipped inside the back entrance next to the laundry room. All the lights were on in the dining room and the kitchen. They must still be eating. Maybe his father had made dessert. He’d have to raid the fridge and look for some leftovers later when she left because he realized he’d never gotten to eat. Hell, maybe he’d take a look now. They wouldn’t hear him. They’d be too busy eating and talking.
He took a turn for the kitchen and stopped dead at the scene that greeted him.
“Oh my God. Garret.” His father eyes flew open wide as he stood like a deer caught in headlights.
Garret clutched for the edge of the cabinet, not sure whether he was going to pass out or go blind from the sight of Molly kneeling on the linoleum. In her mouth was his father’s—he could barely even think the word penis, forget about actually look at the body part she held in her hand and between her lips.
Garret finally managed to throw his hands up in front of his eyes and back up. “No. Not a word. Just forget it.”
Ready to vomit, he turned and headed for his room. That was it. He was leaving for North Carolina as soon as possible. If only he could run away as easily from that image seared into his brain.
Even though he doubted it would happen, it did. The sun rose the next morning as if nothing had altered Garret’s entire world the night before. He was awake to see it rise too, having not slept the night before. He didn’t stop to make coffee at the house. It was too risky. His father might come into the kitchen. Instead he slipped into his clothes and snuck out to his truck. He drove to the only place he thought he could maybe have any hope of finding peace.
He brushed a few dead leaves off his mother’s headstone and the confusion of emotions grew within him. Her death had been the biggest loss of his life. Losing her should put everything into perspective. All else should pale next to that, but somehow seeing his father with another woman felt almost as devastating as losing his mother had.
The crunch of footsteps on the grass behind him had Garret turning.
“I had a feeling you might be here.” His father pressed a kiss to two fingers and then touched the granite stone. “You know I’ll always love her, don’t you?”
It didn’t look like it last night. Garret bit his lip so hard not to respond he was surprised he didn’t taste blood.
“I’m sorry you saw what you did, but I’m not dead, Garret,” his father continued. “I have to go on living. It took me a very long time to be ready to do that, but now I think I am.”
“I’ll be out of your hair soon enough. Then you can do whatever you want.” Wherever he wanted. Once Garrett was gone, they could fuck on the kitchen counter, or hell, run naked through the yard if they wanted.
“She’s really nice. You’d like Molly if you’d just give her a chance.”
With a bitter taste in his mouth, Garret laughed and turned away from the headstone. It seemed weird, disrespectful even, to be talking about his father’s new sexual partner in front of his mother. He couldn’t even form an answer. Instead, he just shook his head.
“She was pretty upset and embarrassed, Garret, but you can’t blame her for what you saw. Neither of us planned on anything like that happening. It just did.”
Garret resisted the urge to cover his ears before they began to bleed from his father describing how his dick had come to be in that woman’s mouth in the middle of his mother’s kitchen. He’d heard Molly leave last night, right after the…incident. At least he hadn’t had to lie in his bed and picture them together. Or worse, hear them together.
He finally made eye contact with his father. “Can we not talk about Molly in front of Mom, please?”
“Why not? She knows.” His father smiled, a small sad-looking expression, as he glanced at the headstone. “I came here before I ever started dating again and told her. I come here a lot and talk to her. I think, I hope, she wants me to find someone to make me happy since she can’t be here herself. It’s been five years.”
Garret had a feeling it could be fifteen years and he still would have trouble dealing with this. He let out a breath. “Can you not…do anything again until I’m gone? I’ll finish the deer stand today and then I’m leaving for the next event tomorrow. Do you think you can do that for me? Please?”
“Yes. Of course I can. If that’s what you want.”
“Thank you. I’m going to measure for that plywood flooring.”
“I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
“Fine.” Garret spun away on his boot heel. As he walked toward the path leading to his parked truck, he tried to concentrate on something else. Bulls, buckle bunnies—pretty much anything that wouldn’t remind him of this conversation. He could leave tomorrow night, drive straight through and be in North Carolina in time to have beer and burgers with Aaron after his sponsor thing on Thursday. Perfect.
Chapter Three
Silver drew in a hiss of breath between her teeth. Adrenaline flooded her system as the hot pain seared through her. She watched him, his dark head bent low between her thighs, as he concentrated solely on his task.
“That hurt?” Rico asked, without looking at her.
“Nope. I’m good.” Her words came out sounding short and clipped.
“Liar.” He glanced up and smiled.
“Fine. It hurts like fucking hell. Now keep going.”
“I do love a girl who likes a little pain.” Rico winked at her and adjusted his position, turning her leg so her inner thigh faced up.
“Ow.” Silver cringed. “Shit. My leg doesn’t bend that direction.”
He raised one pierced eyebrow. “You didn’t say a word when I pierced your clit hood or your belly button, but you’re bitching about me stretching your leg a little bit? You need to get to the gym. Do some yoga or something.”
She scowled. “I don’t see you stretched out here on the table with your leg doing things nature never intended.”
He stopped and put down the ink gun. “You wanna see what position I was in when I got my last tattoo?”
“Uh, no. That’s okay.”
“Didn’t think so.” He shot her a look and picked up his equipment again.
Silver could only imagine what Rico’s clothing hid. This man’s body was like a patchwork quilt of tatts and piercings—right down to the Jacob’s Ladder piercing that she’d heard decorated his penis. Not that she’d seen that, of course. Theirs was a professional relationship. Though she did have a morbid curiosity to at least see the row of barbells running up his shaft, and more than once she’d imagined what it might feel like—all those balls and bars sliding inside her.
Silver swallowed and yanked her mind off that image. These sexual fantasies were probably the result of that hood piercing. A few people had told her the constant rubbing of the barbell against her clit would make her horny as hell until she got used to it. It had been close to a month now since she’d had it done—a very long and sexless month. Maybe that was the problem. But damn, this constant intimate awareness of her lower region was enough to make a girl without a boyfriend kind of insane. Silver had to wonder when, if ever, she’d get used to the metal ball pressing against her clit, rubbing with every move she made, keeping her just on the edge of orgasm but never pushing her over.
She tried not to squirm as Rico moved his position again. To steady his hand as he filled the design with color, he’d braced his palm against her. It pressed on her labia just enough to push the barbell against her clit. She grit her teeth again, but this time it wasn’t from the pain of the tattoo.
He leaned back and blew out a breath. “I’m gonna try this from a different angle. Okay?”
“Whatever. I trust you.” She kind of had to. Besides having had
her genitals at his mercy in the past, Rico currently held the fate of her new inner thigh tattoo literally in his hands.
But he was nothing but professional at all times. She liked to think that tattoo artists treated their patrons much like doctors did their patients. One hood piercing was just like another. One blossoming dogwood branch snaking between her thighs and ending just shy of her pussy lips would be just like another to him.
He moved around the table and leaned right on top of her, aiming at the spot where her leg joined her body with the business end of the ink gun. His face right down there, they would have been in a sixty-nine position…if they were having sex that is.
Mmm, a sixty-nine. That particular sexual configuration had always been one of her favorites. Damn, she needed a boyfriend, or at least some sex.
Rico started again and she jumped involuntarily. The spot he was working on hurt like a bitch, but at least the pain would distract her from her unfulfilled sexual needs.
“I like the laser hair removal you got. Hell of a lot nicer than working over razor stubble.” This time it seemed like Rico was going for small talk to distract her from the discomfort. It wasn’t working.
“Glad I could be of service.” Silver delivered her sarcastic reply through clenched teeth.
“Hey, don’t be pissed at me. You chose this spot. I told you it was gonna hurt.”
“I know.” That was little comfort. She drew in a shaky breath.
As he continued the torture, Silver grit her teeth and made a few faces since he couldn’t see them behind his back. Then he stood. “I’m up to the hipbone. Underwear will have to move.”
She let out a sigh. The hipbone was going to hurt like a bitch too. Rico had already warned her. Silver slipped one leg out of her cotton thongs and glanced back at him. “All the way off?”
What the hell, it wasn’t like he hadn’t already seen it. After all the hood piercing had entailed, from the measuring to the marking to the actual piercing, this guy could probably identify her lady parts in a police lineup if needed.
