by Grace James
And the way he was looking at me – like I was lunch, and he hadn’t eaten in a very long time…
His slow pace didn’t last long; just long enough to ease me in; just long enough to make me crazy. Then he started to change it up. A few quick strokes, his hips slapping against my spread thighs, and then on the fourth stroke he’d sink himself to the hilt and grind against me, sending sparks radiating outwards from my clit.
The first time he did it I whimpered and bit my lip so hard I almost drew blood. After that I just quit reining it in and let myself moan. Loudly.
He liked that.
I could see the fascination in his face. His mouth dropped open a little, he frowned – like he was in pain, but good pain – and his breathing quickened.
Then it was as if he remembered himself, or something happened in his head, because that look of fascination evaporated to be replaced by a flash of something else – something almost feral.
Abruptly, he pulled out of me and hoisted me off of the crate, spinning me around quickly and pushing me forwards, his hand between my shoulder blades, bending me over so that I had no choice but to press my hands to the top of the rough wood. He kicked my feet further apart, his boots grazing my softer flesh. Then he planted his feet on the outside of mine, crouched down a little, and forced the blunt head of his cock inside me again.
“Blake –” I gasped, clutching the wood tighter.
He thrust again, harder this time, and my mouth couldn’t even form his name. His strong arm curled around my waist, holding me in place while he filled me with every stroke. He braced his other hand on the crate next to mine, his huge hand next to my smaller one – so close but not touching – as he powered into me, his hips slapping against my ass as he drove himself inside, over and over.
I felt his hot breath on the nape of my neck, quick blasts of heat that skimmed over me as his breathing got shallower. He nuzzled the blond strands of my hair aside and his teeth grazed over my shoulder; I couldn’t decide if it was a threat or a promise.
The walls of my sex started to clench, working upwards, higher, grasping greedily at him as he sent me towards bliss. When his teeth finally fixed on my flesh, a bite to the curve of my shoulder, followed by sharp suction, I cried out. The brief pain offset the pulsing pleasure that was ebbing through me, creating something wicked in its contrast, like metal barbs wrapped in silk. I writhed in his grip, trying to buck my hips, searching for every ounce of friction his cock could give me.
My orgasm burned through me with unprecedented violence, making me scream incoherent nonsense as delicious waves of heat pulsed through my body and left me almost limp
But he didn’t stop.
He didn’t even slow down.
He kept up his punishing pace, slamming into me furiously, taking me from one mind shattering orgasm and spiraling straight towards another.
“Blake – I – oh God –”
He groaned against the tortured skin of my shoulder. “Oh shit – oh FUCK –”
I came so hard I saw stars.
Then he was bellowing as his whole body turned to granite behind me. His arm around my waist contracted, squeezing me to the point of pain as our orgasms crashed through us – each lengthened by the other until we were a sweaty mass of infinite pleasure.
26
Blake pressed a kiss to the back of my neck. It was light and tender, in complete contrast to the furious and rough way he had just taken me. He slowly released his hold on me, his hands stroking tenderly across my skin before he pulled away.
I kept my hands locked on the crate for a moment as the trembles that had wracked my body faded –
And I came to my senses.
What did I just do?
What the HELL did I JUST DO?!
The answer hit me in the face with the force of a ten-ton truck: I just hate-fucked the guy who broke my heart and then disappeared for three years, a WEEK after he sauntered back into my life.
Way to stay strong, Amy.
When I thought about it like that, it was pretty hard to hold onto my self-respect.
I had never felt more stupid or weaker or more…pathetic.
I pushed myself away from the crate and turned around. Blake had tossed the condom in the small trash can in the corner and was already buttoning up his jeans, but his piercing blue eyes were fixed on me, and as soon as I saw them I could feel myself softening.
And THAT’S the danger of Blake.
He lures you in and then shatters you. And that’s what he WILL do again, whether he means to or not. It’s just who he is. My inner Cynical Bitch was on a roll, and the rest of me didn’t have any reason to doubt her.
I looked away from him, searching the concrete floor for my clothes. I snagged my jeans and tank top and put them back on swiftly before shoving my feet back into my shoes. My bra was lying in the corner; the metal hooks were hanging from the fabric, twisted and bent. Now it looked more like a torture device than lingerie. I gathered it up and then retrieved my ruined panties from the floor too – they must have fallen from my leg at some point – and balled them both up together in my hand. The evidence of my stupidity.
“Blake –”
“Don’t say it.”
At those gruff words, I turned back to him in surprise. His stance was tight and when he spoke again his voice was clipped, “Don’t say any of the shit that’s going through your head right now, Princess, ‘cause I swear if you do I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”
“Blake, I just – this shouldn’t –”
Without warning, he stepped close to me, took my face in his hands, tilted my chin up and kissed me hot and deep. But before I could even react, he released me, almost shoving me away from him as he stepped back like I’d burned him. “I said don’t say it,” he growled, his eyes fierce as he pointed an accusing finger at me. “You’re lying to yourself, ‘cause what we had isn’t gone.”
He kept saying that, but it was bullshit.
What we had was destroyed before it ever really started.
I shook my head a little as I stared back at him. “But what did we really have? One weekend away in a cabin? It was barely anything, Blake!”
He frowned and the muscles in his jaw jumped. I knew I was making him furious, but I hadn’t been able to protect myself three years ago – I could protect myself now. I had to protect myself now, because I couldn’t go through that again.
“It was more than one weekend,” he ground out. “It was more than two nights. It was more than thirteen fucks –”
“You counted how many times we –”
“You think I’d forget?! How could I forget when every girl I touch is you by the time I’m done? In my head, they’re all YOU! It’s your face I see every – single – fucking – time!”
My jaw pretty much hit the floor.
I had NO words.
Because on one hand it was probably one of the most offensive things I’d ever heard, but at the same time…holy shit…
He wasn’t done. “I remember everything about you. I remember the way you sigh after you take your first sip of coffee in the morning. The way the grey in your eyes looks like storm clouds when you come. I remember stupid shit, like you once drank the last beer in my fridge and then drew a fucking smiley face on the bottom of the bottle cap and left it in there for me to find. I remember every little thing about you and it drives me fucking insane.” He paused and swallowed; when he continued, his voice was raw, “And I know I fucked up, Princess – believe me, I know that – but I can’t let you go.”
I shook my head; my voice was barely more than a whisper when I said, “But you already did.”
“No,” he said firmly. “I never did.”
“You did!” My voice was shrill as my anger gathered. “You did let me go! You walked away and you stayed away –”
“Because you were NEVER FUCKING MINE!” His roar took me off guard, so did the anguish on his face, like he was trying so hard to get me to understand some
thing and I just wasn’t getting it.
“Amy? Amy, are you here?” I recognized the voice as Harvey’s. A few seconds later, he called out again, “Amy? Hellooooo?”
I checked my watch, realizing that it was later than I thought; Harvey was probably here to help set up for Battle of the Bands that night.
Blake snarled in frustration as he turned away. I let out a gasp when I saw the deep scratches I’d left on his back – I’d actually made the guy bleed. He grabbed his t-shirt up from where he had slung it on the top of a nearby keg and tugging it on roughly.
I remembered then that I was still holding my ruined underwear. Quickly, I threw it into the trash can before calling, “I’m here, Harvey.”
Another couple of seconds passed, and then I heard his footsteps on the top of the cellar stairs. As he walked down, he smiled as he saw me – then he caught sight of Blake and his mouth opened in surprise.
“Um…Lance is sick. Blake was just helping me with the delivery,” I offered, trying to sound natural even though I knew my cheeks were pulsing red.
“Shit – you had Blake Maxwell play bartender?!” Harvey exclaimed.
By this time, Blake had turned back around with his arms crossed over his chest, making his biceps looked even bigger. “It’s okay, man. She needed help and there was no one else here to do it,” he said, looking at Harvey pointedly.
Annnnd Blake was sticking up for me. Great. It was turning into the most confusing twenty minutes of my life. Rough sex. Sweet kisses. Yelling accusations. Fighting my corner.
Thank God my best friend is a therapist – it’s going to save me thousands.
Harvey didn’t pick up on Blake’s insinuation. Or, if he did, he totally ignored it. “Okaaay,” he said slowly. But the look on his face told me that what he really wanted to say was something like, I know that’s not the whole story! What the fuck just happened here?!
“Anyway, Blake was just leaving,” I said quickly.
“I am?” Blake’s low question was laced with scorn.
My gaze shot back to him as a trickle of guilt slid through me.
Why the hell do I feel bad?! He’s the asshole in this scenario – in EVERY scenario – isn’t he?
“Don’t leave on my account,” Harvey said quickly. “I’ll give you a little, uh, space, if you want?” His eyeballs were playing Ping-Pong, bouncing back and forth between Blake and I as he waited for one of us to answer him.
“No! That’s really not necessary,” I said, and I knew that it came out a little desperate. “We’re done here, and Blake has things to do.” I turned to him. “Right?”
“Looks that way. Guess I already gave you all the muscle you need for today, huh?”
I felt myself blush harder as he sauntered past me towards the foot of the stairs, offering Harvey a chin-jerk and a “Later,” as he passed.
Without another look my way, he took the stairs two at a time and was gone.
Harvey waited three seconds. I counted them.
“Tell me what happened right now or you’re fired.”
27
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before I looked back at Harvey.
His eyebrows were raised questioningly and he was trying to look like he was serious about his threat – that lasted another two seconds. “Alright,” he huffed in defeat. “Keep your secrets…and your job, but remember, when I spent that Halloween in the drunk tank for that slight misdemeanor with that zombie, I told you everyth–”
“I used to date Blake’s cousin, Connor,” I cut in. For some reason, I felt like I needed to tell him. Or maybe I just needed to remind myself what happened. And how stupid it would be to repeat any part of it.
Harvey had stopped talking and was standing statue still, as if he thought any movement might make me clam up.
“We dated for about nine months before we broke up,” I continued. “But, really, our relationship was over long before that. He was into drugs in a big way. He was a different person when he was high and I couldn’t – I didn’t want to deal with that anymore. And…well, I had feelings for Blake. We were friends and we’d gotten close, kind of by accident at first, I guess. When Connor and I ended, Blake and I got together – sort of.” I let out a little, humorless laugh. “We had one weekend together and then Connor overdosed – he survived that time, but afterwards he asked me to get back together with him. I was stupid enough to do it…” I trailed off, unsure if I could really speak it all aloud.
I’d never told the whole thing before.
I’d never wanted to try.
Harvey reached out and touched my shoulder gently. “I was kidding about firing you,” he told me. “You don’t really have to tell me.”
“I know, but I want to.” I pulled in another deep breath before I continued. “I didn’t want to go back to Connor, but I couldn’t see any other way. I’d been his girlfriend for months and I still felt like he was partly my responsibility. Even though we weren’t right for each other, he still mattered to me. I had to try and help him.”
He nodded. “Of course you did.”
I nodded back, relieved that he seemed to understand. “And Blake…I didn’t want him to lose any more family. He barely had any left.”
Harvey’s brow creased in what looked like concern – or maybe sympathy.
“So, I lied to Blake and said I didn’t love him. I said we were a mistake. I just told him whatever I had to so that he’d let me go…” I faltered for a moment, clamping my lips together as my memories threatened to take me under. “God, he was so hurt. He…reacted. He made sure I saw him with other women. He slept with them and made sure I knew it. I was so unhappy, so beyond miserable. Connor and I were a sham – Blake was whoring around…anyway, one night it all came to a head. It turned out Connor had been cheating on me almost the whole time we were together. And me and Blake were broken. I just couldn’t forgive how he’d gone out of his way to hurt me. Maybe I was wrong? I don’t know. I just wanted to be as far away from both of them as I could get.” I rushed over the last part, wanting it to be over. “Three months later, Connor overdosed again, and that time it killed him. Blake and I…the night of the funeral, we…” I shook my head. I really couldn’t say it, after all. “I loved him, and I’d just missed him so much – and then he was there, and I just thought that maybe everything that’d happened between us could be left behind. But he disappeared in the middle of the night and I didn’t see him again until last week.”
For a beat, Harvey just kind of gaped at me.
“The end,” I said quietly. “Well, apart from that he just…kissed me.”
Harvey snapped out of his stupor to give me a look that said, Oh, please, give me some credit, before his eyes flicked to my neck where I knew there must be a giant hickey, but when he spoke his voice was sympathetic. “I’m sorry for hounding you to tell me. That’s…horrible.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It was pretty rough.”
“Do you wanna take the night off?” His lips twitched into a small, mischievous smile. “You could go listen to some Celine Dion in the bath or something? Maybe write some tortured poetry?”
I snorted and sent a smack to his upper arm. “Do I need to tell you to keep that story to yourself?”
His face became serious again. “You would have to eviscerate me to get me to repeat it.”
“That’s good to know.”
We got to work after that; me tucked away in my office and Harvey doing the grunt work in the main room. I answered emails, did some admin, tackled some taxes – but Blake was like a splinter in my mind.
It was so messed up.
I knew it was stupid to think of Blake as anything more than ancient history – and now an irresponsible ‘backslide’. But, still, every thought I had led back to him.
Just as I was about to turn off my computer and go help out downstairs, an email came through that momentarily put him out of my mind. It was from the owner of a music venue in San Francisco called Alcamuse, who wa
s basically offering me a job. I re-read it a few times just to make sure, but, yeah, she was definitely trying to poach me:
I’ve heard a lot about your success with The Academy and would like to invite you to visit Alcamuse. I’m confident that if you saw the size and scope of the venue, you’d be excited to head up our team.
Please let me know if this sounds like something you would be interested in. I am very eager to have someone with your expertise on board.
I broke into a grin.
I didn’t want to leave The Academy, or Vegas, but I still appreciated the compliment.
Then something occurred to me.
The only reason that anyone in San Francisco would have any idea who I was would be because of THAT show that went viral on YouTube. So, it wasn’t really me she wanted at all; she probably just thought I could get her Sons of Sinners.
I deflated.
Great. Now Blake was back in my head again. He was infesting me like some kind of disease.
And the worst part?
I was starting to wonder if I really wanted the cure.
28
The next morning I was drinking coffee and picking at the eggs over easy that were sitting on my kitchen counter, when there was a knock at my front door.
My heart tried to crawl up my throat – either from apprehension or excitement, I couldn’t tell – when I immediately assumed it was Blake.
But instead there was a delivery guy holding a huge goldfish bowl almost full of water. Inside, three large flowers were bobbing around on the disturbed water. They were a bright, vibrant pink in the middle, fading with each row of petals until the outer ones were almost white. I didn’t envy the delivery guy who’d had to haul them up the steps to my door. His khaki shorts were soaking.
“Amy Scott?” he asked, clearly impatient and not thrilled with his assignment.
“Um, yeah?”
“Then here you go.” He thrust the bowl at me and was obviously relieved when I took it from him. “My van’s drenched. Enjoy.” With that passive aggressive comment, he turned and trotted back down the steps.
