Havoc

by Laramie Briscoe

  Grabbing the curling wand I plugged in earlier, I randomly curl a few pieces of hair here and there, giving it a bouncy wave. Thinking back, I try to remember the last time I fixed my hair in some other way besides a ponytail for work, or just leaving it down when I’m at the house. Maybe the wedding? God, no wonder Holden doesn’t ever look at me like he wants to rip my clothes off; we never had that getting to know you period. And I sure haven’t put that old lady’s advice to use yet.

  There was never the rush of feelings, trying my best to impress him, never the butterflies in my stomach when he came and picked me up for a date. Simply because that wasn’t our situation. The day he got me out of the back of the ambulance was the day we started living together.

  He’s seen me at my worst from day one, and there’s nothing I can do to change the beginning, but fuck it, I can change the middle and the ending. It won’t take much for me to care a little more about what I look like, and hopefully he’ll appreciate it.

  With hair and makeup done, I feel like a totally different person. I pick up my cell phone, checking the time. I have about twenty minutes before he should be here to pick me up. Just enough time.

  Early April has turned a little cool at night this year, even though last year it was already sweltering. I opt for a pair of jeans with a designer rip in the thigh, my riding boots, and a long-sleeve, body hugging shirt. Just because I don’t usually show it off anymore doesn’t mean I don’t have what some have referred to as a bangin’ body.

  Fifteen minutes later, I have earrings in, jewelry on, and perfume spritzed at all the points Holden might be smelling me tonight (with any luck). Operation Seduce My Husband is in full effect.

  My hands are shaking as I wait for Holden to get home, and my hearing is superhuman as I listen for his truck in the driveway. I have a very distinct feeling that when I look back at my marriage it will be split into two categories. Before tonight, and after tonight.

  And when I hear the crunching of the gravel, I know my time has come. I realize with great clarity that the only person who can change my marriage and what I want in it, is myself. Do I want this marriage to be merely a piece of paper; do I want him only as a protector? No, I don’t think so. I want him to be my lover; I want him to be my best friend, to be the person he turns to in the middle of the night when he’s having a bad dream. Desperately, I want to be the person he wakes up when he has a hard-on that just won’t go away. I want to be the reason Holden smiles in the morning and the person he holds at night. I want to be the person he kisses on the neck when he spoons me from behind and the one hug that can make his day better. I vow right here and now, I will be this person. There won’t be anything that stands in our way. If there is, we’ll go through it, over it, beside it, or jump that motherfucker like it’s a canyon.

  Together we’ll make it, and it’ll be because we wanted to, not because we had to.

  Havoc

  To say I’m a little nervous is an understatement. When the guys asked me if Leighton and I wanted to go out, I’d balked, but then I realized I want to. I want to be seen with her, I’m sick of hiding at our house like we’ve done something wrong. Nothing about me wanting to protect her was ever wrong, and I’m getting the feeling that my trying to protect her has maybe given her the idea I’m not proud to be with her. I am. There’s something about putting my wedding ring on every day, about knowing I’m coming home to her at night, and knowing without a shadow of a doubt I’m waking up next to her in the morning.

  I never thought this would be me. In a million years, I never imagined I’d be the guy who got so caught up in a woman. But yet, here I am, dying to get inside the house to see if she’s fixed herself up for our night out.

  When I unlock the door and step through the threshold, I’m completely unprepared for the woman who meets me. I’ve seen her before, but not in a long time. Immediately my mind goes back to one hot night in Birmingham, where Leighton Strather blew my mind and made me aware of her in a way I haven’t been able to forget since.

  She’s got on these boots that I jokingly call basic bitch, white-girl boots when I typically see women wearing them, but on her, they look amazing. They frame her legs in a way that immediately gets me hard. Same with the tight jeans and tight long-sleeve shirt she’s wearing. It hugs all the right places, and rides high on her body, brushing the waistband of the faded jeans. I knew she had a body this bangin’ underneath her clothes, I’ve inspected it, but damn there’s something intimately sexy seeing it covered the way it is tonight. She’s done something to her face, too. Those eyes of hers pop impossibly bright, like the night we took our dance lesson, making me want to stare into them for the rest of my damn life. Her hair? Shiny as hell and I have to curl my fingers into the palms of my hands to keep from reaching out and touching the waves.

  “Wow!” I try to inhale, to feel my lungs with life-giving oxygen, but she’s literally rendered me breathless and speechless.

  “Too much for where we’re going?” She frowns as she runs her fingers through her hair, doing something to the curls she’s arranged.

  “No,” I push my arm out, grabbing her hand to stop her, “not at all,” I swallow roughly against the knot that’s formed in my throat. She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts. “Completely perfect.” I entwine our fingers together, bringing them up to my lips. “Don’t change a thing about yourself.”

  She gives me this smile. It’s equal parts sexy, sweet, unsure, and totally quirky. All in that ten second exchange, I do what I once believed to be the impossible for me with any woman.

  That guy who got his heart broken while he was fighting a war, watched all his friends move on, in one way or another. That guy who’s watched his guys on the MTF find love and become comfortable in their skin? In this moment, that guy falls head over heels in love with his wife.

  I put my hand to my chest to make sure my heart is still beating, because fuck what a breath-stealing moment it is.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Havoc

  It’s been a little strained between the two of us since we got to the bar, and I blame myself for that. I haven’t been able to get the way she looks out of my mind. It’s odd, I spend countless hours with her a day and I’ve always found her attractive, but tonight I realize just how hot she is.

  “You okay?” She leans in, speaking against the outer shell of my ear.

  The one little act sends shivers down my body and hardens my erection to mass critical levels. I’ve been sporting a semi since I picked her up, and now thanks to her hot breath against the sensitive skin of my ear, everybody in the free world can tell I want my wife.

  “Good.” I nod, glancing at the two couples we’re sitting with.

  Renegade, Tank, Whitney, and Blaze are all looking at us like they’re watching monkeys at the zoo. Maybe that’s an apt description. This woman has got me all kinds of flustered, and I’m unsure if I’ll ever be able to be normal again.

  “Leighton, you wanna go play pool?” Whitney asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Blaze and I have a little wager to settle and we wouldn’t mind if you played with us.”

  “A wager?” Renegade asks, taking a drink off his beer bottle. “Do tell.”

  Whitney turns to her fiancée and winks. “It’s something private between the two of us. You know I don’t normally keep secrets, but this is in my girl vault.”

  “Fuckin’ girl vault,” he complains.

  “Yeah,” Leighton stands up, my eyes going immediately to her tight ass, “I’d love to join the two of you, even though I don’t know how to play.” She looks down at me, her eyebrow raised.

  “Go on, have fun.” I take a drink from my own beer bottle as I watch the trio walk away.

  I’m still staring at her ass when I feel the palm of someone’s hand make contact with the back of my head. “Son of a bitch!” I wince as my tooth makes contact with the rim of the bottle.

  “Are you deaf, blind, and stupid?” Tank gives me a look.
<
br />   “Something tells me you don’t really want me to answer that.” I shrug, wondering what the fuck he’s getting at.

  “Christ almighty,” he breathes, rolling his eyes. “Y’all say I’m the one that has no clue.” He looks pointedly at Renegade before he turns to me. “She told you she didn’t know how to play pool so you’d go teach her, you dumb shit.”

  “What?” I shake my head. “That’s what Whitney and Blaze are there for.”

  He looks at Renegade and sighs, before he cuts his eyes back over at me. “Help him,” he pleads with his soon to be brother-in-law and best friend. “For the love of God, help him.”

  Ryan shakes his head as he leans in so I can hear over the loudness of the bar. “Why do you think your wife dressed for sin tonight? Normally whenever we see her, she’s wearing a baggy t-shirt and a pair of leggings. The shirt she’s wearing tonight is so tight you can see the outline of her bra. She fixed her hair, she fixed her makeup.”

  “How the fuck did you notice all this shit?” I ask him, getting a little pissed.

  “Because I’m getting married for real soon, I’m supposed to notice all this shit.”

  That hits a nerve. “We’re married for real,” I argue.

  “Are you? Because I can guarantee you, the first night I went out with Whitney? I couldn’t keep my goddamn hands off her, and she sure as fuck wouldn’t be bending over a pool table shaking her ass for every horny guy in the place. I’d be right up behind her, letting her shake that ass on my cock, and copping a feel while doing it.” He glances over at Tank. “No offense.”

  “None taken – desperate times call for desperate measures. I got you.” They give each other a high-five, and I’m tempted to roll my eyes at them this time.

  But then it happens. I turn to where the girls are playing pool, watching as Whitney and Blaze truly are playing a heated game, but my gaze travels over to where Leighton is bending over an empty pool table. She’s testing the cue in her hands and watching the girls, before she bends over and tries to break, missing terribly. I watch as she laughs at herself, before she moves to get the cue ball and again try to break. There are men watching her from every corner of this bar – some from the sidelines, some looking like they’re about to make their move.

  “Fuck this.” I grab my beer and drain it, as I stand up and walk over to what’s fucking mine.

  “Yeah, man.” I hear the guys encourage me, as I grab another beer off of a waitress’s tray. When I get to where Leighton is standing, eyeing that cue ball, another guy is headed the same way. Over her head I make eye contact, giving him a warning with my glare. He quickly turns, walking the other way, which gives my ego the stroke it needs.

  “Hey, babe.” I lean in, kissing her on the cheek as I grab her hip. “Sorry I took so long to get over here.”

  She’s obviously confused, because she’s looking at me like I’ve grown another head. I clarify quickly. “You wanna learn how to play pool? I’ll teach you.”

  “And we’ll help,” Renegade and Tank add as they make their way over to us, all holding fresh beers. Apparently they didn’t want their women to be without them either.

  “Did you see me fail miserably earlier?” She buries her face in her hands.

  “Yeah.” I can’t help the chuckle that comes from deep within my body. “That’s okay though, we can work it out. We’ll have you actually hitting the balls before we leave here.”

  She laughs, an adorable snort making its way past her hand, as I set my beer bottle down on the edge of the pool table. “Alright, first things first, you need to learn how to hold the stick.”

  Immediately I realize just how sexual this whole situation is going to be, and I find myself hoping it leads to other things before the night ends. Otherwise, I’m a damn glutton for punishment.

  “How do I hold it?” She asks, running her hand up and down the shaft.

  “Like a cock” is out of my mouth before I can stop the words.

  “Oh yeah?” She shoots me a heated grin. “You sure that’s not your wishful thinking?”

  I step closer to her, planting my feet wide on the concrete floor of the bar, putting my arms around her waist. I push her back against the pool table, pressing my body into hers, feeling like a flirtatious husband for the first time in my marriage.

  Maybe I’ve had more alcohol than I thought, because I’m feeling a little buzzed as I wrap my arms around her waist. With hands that I wish were more familiar with her body, I run them down her lower back, until they cup the curve of her ass, tilting her deeper into my body. If I’m not mistaken those dark eyes flair with a recognition of arousal and desire. I lean in, whispering against her ear.

  “One day soon I hope to find out.”

  “Teach me how to shoot pool and you just might.”

  I have to take a step back, get myself together before I put my hand over hers on the pool stick. I gently take it from her grip and turn her around in front of me. “You want to bend over and hold it like this,” I say as I lean over her back, positioning the cue where she can easily hold it. “You want to line up your shot like this.” I show her how to option her hand to hold the cue steady, and together we push the end of it to the cue ball.

  She shrieks as we make a clean break. “I did it!” She turns in my arms, throwing hers around my neck. I’m so surprised at the way she’s thrown herself at me, it takes me longer than I care to admit, to respond.

  “C’mon, let’s shoot the rest of them.” She’s genuinely excited to finish the job.

  * * *

  An hour and a half later, I’m seriously in hell. Leighton’s continued drinking as we’ve been playing, and she’s getting much friendlier with her movements, more brazen with her touches.

  “Am I doing it right?” She bends over, pushing her ass into my crotch, and wiggling it around. Her shot is a little sloppy, but she hits the ball into the pocket and does a little victory dance.

  “You’re doing it all right,” I tell her as she leans in, kissing the hollow of my throat.

  I moan, fisting some of her hair in the palm of my hand and tilting her head back. She laughs deep in her throat, and I’m fully aware of my guys watching us. Hell, the whole bar is probably watching us at this point.

  “I have to hit the ladies room,” she whispers into my ear.

  Her breath is hot against my skin as I let my hand travel down her backside again. “C’mon, I’ll walk you.”

  “Such a gentleman,” she giggles as I take her hand, leading her down the hall to the bathrooms.

  “Be right back.” She waves as she goes through the door.

  The entire time she’s gone, I berate myself for being ten kinds of an asshole, thinking I could ignore the way I react to this woman, to try and tell myself she doesn’t make me feel things I’ve never felt, to try and tell myself I’m ever going to be able to let her go.

  She comes out of the ladies room with her head down. “Can we step outside for a minute? I’m so hot.”

  I take a good look at her, and sure enough she’s flushed. “You gonna puke on me?”

  “Not if I can get some fresh air.”

  I direct her out the back door and immediately we’re in the warm air of what’s going to be an early summer. There’s a soft glow from a light above the door, and I turn her to face me. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” She nods. “Just got a little hot in there, in more ways than one.”

  Even though her eyes are glassy, I know what she means. “You’re damn right about that. What is it about tonight, sweetheart? Why are you testing me?” I push her up against the wall, tilting her head back so we can look at each other. She tries to lower her head, but I grasp her at the chin and force her eyes to meet mine. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “I want you,” she admits, running her tongue along her plump bottom lip. “I’ve wanted you since that night in Birmingham.”

  She gave me a truth, so I’ll give her one, too. “Same, and it’s hell not being able
to take something that should rightfully be yours. You changed your last name, you wear my ring on your finger, and you curl up to me every night. You try my patience more than any woman I’ve ever met, and I’m not sure how much a man should be able to take.”

  She puts her hands on my hips, pulling me closer to her. “I know how much I can take, and I can’t take any more, Holden. I want just a little taste, just a piece. Can I have that?” she breathes against my neck, where she’s buried her head into my skin. “Can you give me a little taste?”

  “Right here? Right now?” I question, looking around, wondering if I can give her what she needs here. Better yet, wondering if I can’t not give her what she needs here. Leighton doesn’t ask me for much, so when she does, I want to make things happen for her.

  “C’mere.” I pull her around the building, leaning back against the brick wall. Turning her around so that her ass grinds against my front. “People are coming and going, keep it quiet.” We can hear groups of people leaving the bar.

  She looks over her shoulder, her eyes smoldering as they meet mine. “Make me feel good, Holden.”

  I lean back against the building, bending my knees and pull her ass into the seat I’ve created with the angle of my body. My lips meet her neck, lightly at first, but when she grinds hard against my cock, I suction my lips against her skin, pulling harshly against the resistance it offers me. With one arm, I wrap it around her chest, palming her tit, cupping it in my hand. She thrusts her upper body out, punching her hard nipple into my skin.

  “Holden,” she whines as I grasp her nipple between my middle and index finger, squeezing hard, causing her knees to weaken. Using my other arm, I snake it around her hips, palming her stomach as my fingers catch on the button of her jeans. I unfasten it, slipping my hand into her panties. With some maneuvering, I get my middle finger over her clit and immediately begin strumming the hard nub.

  “Oh my God.” She bucks against my touch.

  “Yeah, you’re wet and fuckin’ primed for me, aren’t you?” I whisper in her ear, pulling her further into the cradle of my body. “You flirting with me has turned you on. Hasn’t it, baby girl?”