by Cat Mason
Her head lulls back against the wall, a long moan leaves her lips, but those blue, blazing eyes stay focused on mine. Grabbing her other leg, I hook it over the couch so her thighs are spread as wide as possible. My eyes move down her body hungrily, stopping on her pussy. I lick my lips like a man starved. What I wouldn’t give to taste her, to lick and suck at her until her legs quake and she screams the fucking walls down.
But I’m already too far gone for that now.
She wraps her arms around me, steadying herself as I pump into her like an animal. I’m crazed, unable to focus on anything other than the feel of her wrapped around me. Her nails dig into my back, clawing at the skin as I slam my mouth to hers.
Shelby is a fucking hellcat, just like I knew she would be. The woman is a category five storm. Completely overtaking and wild as hell. There is also a part of her that, once you’ve made it past all the chaos, there’s something truly breathtaking that destroys you.
That only makes me want her more.
There is nothing sweet happening between us right now. It is fucking; plain and simple. Raw and as dirty as it comes, but no less amazing. It’s bad in all the best ways, brutal and unforgiving enough that we will no doubt feel each other for days.
My balls tighten, aching more and more with each thrust. Breaking the kiss, she buries her face in my neck. “I’m close. Fuck. I’m so close. Harder Mitch. Don’t you dare fucking stop again or I swear…” she pants, anchoring her leg around my hip.
“I don’t take orders, sweetness.” My hand slides up her chest, shoving her back against the wall. Her eyes open wide in shock as I wrap my fingers around her throat. My fingers flex, not hard enough to cut off her breathing, but enough to get her focus back on where it needs to be. Me. My thumb brushes over her pulse point, feeling her heart beat rapidly. “Eyes on me. Now, come on my fuckin’ cock.”
“Mitch!” she shouts, keeping her gaze locked on mine. Her thigh tightens around me as she clings to me for dear life. Her climax rips through her and into me. Locking my knees to keep myself from falling, I pump into her, violently driving toward release. Our bodies slap against each other, the noise loudly echoing off the walls along with the sexy as hell noises she makes mixing with my grunts. “Yes! Fuck yes,” she pants before leaning in and nipping along my jaw with her teeth.
I let go, burying my face in her hair. My orgasm shakes my very foundation, rocking my core and shattering me to the point of no return. My teeth sink into her shoulder, again, as I fill her. She hisses out a breath, but her fingers go into my hair, holding me to her. I cling to her, to this moment, for as long as I possibly can while it lasts. Part of me knows that as soon as it passes, I’ll be left empty and broken again. All too soon, I’ll only see a world filled with all the things I have always wanted, but will never have.
Chapter Nine
Shelby
It’s a funny thing, letting yourself get lost in the moment and allowing yourself to feel something for someone that you never saw coming. When you become absorbed in something that is somehow so much bigger than yourself, you feel invincible. Until the moment shatters like glass and you realize that nothing has changed; but, at the same time, nothing can ever be the same. The minute my feet hit the floor, and we make eye contact, the atmosphere of the room changes. Where electricity and sexual tension sizzled all around us just moments ago, now it has become awkward and almost cold. The second Mitch’s eyes open and he looks down at me, it was like he we seeing me for the first time and then I saw it.
Regret.
Just like that, my orgasmic haze dissipates, leaving me with nothing but mind blowing clarity at the huge mistake I have allowed myself to make while being driven by blinding lust and the frustration Mitch always seems to cause. Oh my God! What the hell have I done? My heart hammers in my chest and I go into full on freak out mode.
Did I actually just let Mitch nail me against the wall?
Yes…
Even though it was fanfuckingtastic, I can feel the vomit rising in my throat. The regret in his eyes and the frigid dismissal hurt, but more than that, it pisses me off. The room starts to spin and I feel unsteady on my feet as reality comes crashing in on me like a tidal wave. This is Mitch. I just let the manwhore of Artistic Pricks Ink shoot his load in me without a wrapper. I will have to bathe in bleach for weeks!
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask, shoving at his chest. “Did you seriously just fuck me without a rubber? Orgasms are parting gifts, not herpes!”
Seriously, what the hell is wrong with ME?
He curses under his breath, his body going rigid. “You’re on the pill, right?”
“Yes. I am,” I reply, gritting my teeth. “Although, as much as I know, the world doesn’t need another one of you in it, Mitch, that doesn’t take top priority with me right now.”
“It’s fine. We’re fine. That’s,” he starts, seeming almost completely disengaged now. The shutters he hides behind are now firmly in place, giving nothing away. It’s as if he’s on an entirely different planet now. Turning, he stumbles over the mess of papers, nearly tripping over a candle holder as he puts distance between us. “Sorry… I mean… Um…” Scrubbing a hand over his face, he looks around the room, anywhere but at me while shoving his still partially hard cock back in his pants.
Without another word, Mitch heads down the hallway, giving me a perfect view of the wicked angel tattoo that takes up his entire back. The all black and gray piece had to have taken hours of time and, at least, three sessions. It’s hauntingly beautiful. Disappearing into the bedroom we slept in the other night, he slams the door behind him, leaving me alone. Attempting to recover from the whiplash his mood swings have given me in the last few minutes, I pull my shorts back on. The last thing I want to do is wait around for some awkward conversation, or whatever it is he says, to get rid of the girl after he’s gotten what he wanted; I grab my shoes and take that as my cue to leave.
Every minute replays over and over in my head the entire drive home and only gets worse while I shower. Furious with myself, him, and the entire situation, I scrub every inch of my body until my fingers ache. But no matter how much soap I use, the smell of him lingers on my skin. Damn him. “How could you be so stupid, Shelby?” I ask myself in the mirror as I wrap my hair up in a towel and take in the bite marks on my shoulder. I brush my fingers over my lips that are still swollen from his kiss. As angry and confused as I am right now, I know if I close my eyes, I’ll still be able to feel his mouth on me, his body pressed into mine.
“You’re an idiot,” I scold my reflection, rolling my eyes.
Sure, it was great sex, really great sex, but you aren’t exactly supposed to have a one-night stand with someone you see every day, now are you? Besides, aren’t you supposed to be able to stand the person you have sex with? Mitch infuriates me to the point of violence.
But didn’t that only add fuel to the fire?
Shutting off the light, I pad across the hall into my bedroom. Not even bothering to turn down the bed, I flop across my bright yellow comforter. Hugging the pillow to me, I groan into it, knowing that, all too soon, I’ll be face to face with him again at work. There is no avoiding him.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you?”
“I don’t have any strength left to keep fighting this.”
“Give me an excuse not to ruin you.”
His words echo in my head and my body betrays me, shivering as if he were right here. Then I see the look in his eyes when he pulled away from me and the sting of rejection cuts deep. I had told him I cared about him and he used it to his advantage. He took what he wanted then, when it was too late to take it back, dismissed me because he realized he fucked up. Damn him.
Staring up at the ceiling, I force back the tears. I ignore the hurt that comes from his obvious regret, hoping sleep will come.
But even when it finally does, I dream of him.
Bastard.
I may not be able to control or change how I feel about what happened tonight, but I won’t give Mitchell Taylor the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me.
***
Climbing from my car, I lock it up and head into the shop. After spending most of the night tossing and turning, I gave up on sleep and got an early start on cleaning my house and doing laundry. Hours later, once I finished cleaning and organizing every drawer in my house, rearranging my closet, and every other random chore I could think of, I begin going stir crazy. My day off is usually the one day that recharges me and allows me to relax my overworked mind. More often than not, by noon, I am ready to go into work and fix whatever the guys have managed to mess up. Today is no different. I’m hoping there is something left on my desk to drown out all the loud thoughts and occupy my mind.
“Hey, I knew you couldn’t stay away, even on your day off,” Skinner says the moment I step through the hallway. Stepping out of his bright red painted work station, he holds out his arms. “Admit it, you missed me.”
“You know it,” I reply.
“Uh oh.” Skinner moves toward me. Dropping my shit to the counter, I settle into my chair with a loud sigh while he studies me. “No smart ass comeback? Either you’re sick, or hell finally froze over,” he says, covering my forehead with his palm.
“Don’t you have something to do?” Batting his hand away, I turn the chair toward the computer screen. “If not, I wouldn’t say no to you getting a jump on that storage room inventory for me.”
“Whatever.” Crossing his ink covered forearms over his chest, he shakes his head. “By the way, some guy named Devon called here lookin’ for you. I assume he is the reason you look like you were mauled by a zombie?” His eyebrow arches, a grin playing across his face as he stares at the bite marks on my shoulder. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
“Yep,” I reply, popping the p. “Boxes are stacked against the wall by the backdoor. Lift with your legs.”
“Come on, you know I hate inventory.” Rolling his eyes, he blows out a breath. “I’ll seriously give free ink and an orgasm to someone if they’d just walk through that door right now.”
The bell jingles; both Skinner and I turn just in time to see Luke walk through the door, followed by Mitch. I force myself to ignore him completely and focus on entertaining myself with Skinner. “Oh look, Skins, a twofer! I sure hope you’re a multi-tasker,” I say with a giggle. Skinner’s eyes widen, he blushes. A satisfied smile damn near splits my face. Leaning back in my chair, I cross one leg over the other and wink. “Now, if only I had brought popcorn.”
Luke places his soda bottle on the counter and begins thumbing through the stack of mail. “Isn’t today your day off?” he asks, his eyes not meeting mine.
“Oh please, it’s way more fun being here to witness this moment than anything I could be doing at home,” I reply with a laugh, “Skinner’s offerin’ free ink and orgasms to whoever walks through the door; so I’m glad I’m here to help manage the line there will be once news gets out. You’re the first ones; be gentle with him boys, I think he’s a bit shy.”
“He’s what?” Luke and Mitch ask in unison.
Luke glares at Skinner, his mouth pressing into a hard line, “Okay, I know we have a pretty easy going policy, but that’s not exactly a legal or beneficial advertising strategy. Shel, I never thought I’d say this, but I’m really starting to rethink the need for a pamphlet on sexual advances in the workplace. You may need to draft a memo or somethin’. Or maybe a giant poster.”
Little late for that, boss man…
I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks at the thought of Mitch and I last night but, thankfully, Luke doesn’t notice. Skinner’s face is priceless so I focus on that. He looks like he may faint or vomit, or both. I wink at him again and watch as he squirms uncomfortably, happy that it’s him instead of me. This shit is entertaining as hell. Besides, it is a welcome distraction from the man openly gawking at me now from across the room, whom I refuse to give the time of day. Lifting my drink, I sip from the straw and wait for his response.
“Hey, I’m a quality piece of ass,” Skinner says with a grin, batting his lashes innocently. “Unless you’re into biting, then we need to call whoever tore up Shelby last night.” Stepping toward the counter, he shrugs and picks up the cordless phone, holding it out to me. “Is your zombie cock on speed dial?”
You sonuvabitch.
I choke on my iced tea, nearly inhaling the damn straw. Sitting upright, I slam the drink on the counter and gasp for breath. “Jesus fuck, Skins,” Luke says, tossing the mail down to the counter. Walking around the desk, he claps me on the back. The entire time, Mitch’s eyes are locked on me. I can’t tell what he is thinking, his face is an unreadable mask. “You gonna make it?” Luke asks with a chuckle.
I nod, my eyes meeting Mitch’s as he studies me carefully. He opens his mouth, only to close it again, before turning away and heading over to grab papers from his box.
“I’m peachy,” I croak, pushing to my feet. Forcing myself to look away from Mitch, I blow out a breath and pat Luke on the arm as I brush by him. “As much fun as this has been, I think I’ll go get a jump on that inventory. Manual labor always helps me plot revenge,” I reply, my eyes landing on Skinner. Sitting the phone back down, his smile fades instantly. My gaze hardens, driving home just how on my shit list he is.
“Mitch, give Shelby a hand with those boxes,” Luke says, causing me to stop dead in my tracks. “For once, it isn’t you she wants to dismember.”
Lucky for Luke he isn’t a bettin’ man…
“I can manage on my own.” Not bothering to wait for an answer, I start up the hallway. Grabbing a box, I head for the storage room just down from Luke’s office. Kicking open the door, I flick on the light with my elbow and drop the box to the floor beside one of the shelving units we have organized with supplies. The halogen bulbs flicker, humming as they light up the room.
Reaching out, I brace my hands on the metal shelving unit in front of me and close my eyes. I blow out a breath and count to ten, trying to get a grip. “They wear orange in prison. You don’t look good in orange, Shelby. Murder is not an option,” I mumble to myself.
“I’m fully aware that this may make me an accessory to my own death, but there are a million places to bury a body in the desert.” Turning around, I open my eyes and see Mitch setting a down a stack of boxes before leaning against the doorway. “Not even gonna lie, though; you’re right about the orange. I hear somewhere in Arizona they wear pink.”
“That means I’ll need to stop and get gas,” I deadpan, shaking my head.
“You sent my Ma flowers.” Looking down the hall, he steps further into the room, closing the door behind him.
I nod, “I did. After what you said, I figure she deserved them.”
He nods, studying me carefully. “You left,” he blurts, almost sounding hurt.
“You walked out first,” I remind him.
“That hurt you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I brush him off, not wanting to talk about it.
“We need to talk about last night, Shelby.”
“Don’t.” Holding up my hands, I silently plead for him to stop. “It was a mistake; let’s just forget it ever happened.”
Taking a step closer, Mitch shakes his head. “You’re able to do that? Can you pretend last night never happened?” Taking another step, he reaches out brushing his fingers up my arm. “You can look me in the eye and mean it when you say it? I get it, okay? I messed up and I’m sorry because I know that I hurt you, I hurt everyone. ”
“I want honesty, not excuses.” I swallow hard, forcing myself to look up into his eyes. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say them. I won’t lie, but I can’t pretend there isn’t a bigger issue here. “Can you tell me that you don’t regret what happened, Mitch? That you wouldn’t take it back if you could? Tell me what you want from me. Another go? Some s
ort of fuck buddy relationship? How does that work exactly?” I ask him, throwing up my hands. “I wait around for you to call? On those nights you need me to give you a ride, you give me one in return?”
“Jesus,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Is that wh-”
“Mitch!” Skinner shouts, banging on the door before flinging it open. “Someone named Micah is on the phone for you.”
“Tell him I’ll call him back,” he barks out, waving him off without taking his eyes off me.
“Mitch,” Skinner presses holding out the cordless phone, his voice becoming somber. “You need to take this call.”
Chapter Ten
Mitch
Seriously, can’t the powers that be go fuck up someone else’s life for a while and leave me the hell alone?
I shake my head, trying to wrap my head around what Micah just told me, desperate to make some sense of it. “I’m so sorry, man,” Skinner says when I hand him the phone. He pats me on the back before leaving the room. Sorry. That word is meaningless in a time like this. I should know, I’ve fucking heard it enough to last me a lifetime.
Or so I thought.
“Mitch?” Shelby asks, stepping closer to me, her hand brushing my arm. “Are you okay? Do you want me to take you home?”
“No,” I bite out harshly. I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to go back to last night and pretend nothing else exists. “I’m fine.”
I see the hurt in her eyes, the sting of my rejection, but I can’t let that get to me right now. Just moments ago, I was all but begging her to talk out what is going on between us with me, now I am prepared to build that wall up even higher to shut her out. It’s better this way. If she stays here with me now, I’ll only say things I’ll regret, just hurt her more by taking this all out on her. That’s the last thing I want to do.
She turns to leave; part of me wants her to stay. To tell me that everything will be okay, even though I know it’s a lie. I want more than anything for this moment to be different, but that’s not possible. I don’t get any sort of heaven in my life without hell raining its fire and brimstone down on me. I used her, hurt her, and would do it again. What’s worse is she’d probably let me.
