Drive Me Crazy

by Jenshak, Rebecca

  Her answer was tugging my weight on top of her, and I chuckled as I pressed against her opening. “Next time I’m going to take that tight ass. Toys are fun, but there’s no replacement for the real deal.”

  She moaned loudly, proving my point as I entered her slowly. She wrapped around me like a vise and any notion I had that I could prolong this for maximum enjoyment went right out the window.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Naomi

  I had to be dreaming. There was no way that this was really happening. Only, this was better than any dream I’d ever had about Grady and me. He increased the pace as he whispered, and I wondered if he had lowered his voice because he thought I was online or if this moment was as sacred to him as it was to me.

  “You’re so goddamn beautiful. You’re never going to want to fake being turned on by some asshole behind a computer screen after I’m done.”

  I tucked the words away to think about later and focused only on the orgasm that was on the brink of tearing through my body.

  “Say it,” he commanded. “Tell me this is better than exchanging dares with your customers.”

  Like that was even a fair comparison.

  “Yes. It’s so much better.” The words were an incoherent mumble as I thrashed my head from side to side. “I’m so close.”

  “Wait. Don’t you dare come without me.” He held my hips in place with a hand on either side and slammed into me so hard the room spun around us. His face was mixed with agony and pleasure and sweat beaded on his forehead. Again and again, he moved and I held on so close to the edge that I was no longer in control. I was going to come with or without him.

  “I can’t−”

  “Come for me, Naomi.”

  I watched his face as long as I could keep my eyes open. He was like a caged animal being let loose. His head fell back, and he roared into the room. My own cries mixed with his, the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.

  I was vaguely aware of Grady getting dressed as I lay completely spent on the couch. He placed a chaste kiss on my forehead and cleared his throat. “I, uh, guess you should get back to your fans. I need to get going anyway.”

  I sat up on my elbows and the new position brought the real world crashing down. “Your hot date?”

  “What?” he asked as if he wasn’t sure what I was talking about. “Oh, right. Yeah.”

  The envy and humiliation hit me hard. I’d succeeded in seducing him, but nothing had changed. I’d proven nothing, but that I was an easy lay.

  “I hope this doesn’t get you into trouble — being late and all.”

  I shrugged and felt the soreness that was starting to set in. “I’ll deal with it. They’ll probably make me pay a fine, but it was worth it.”

  “Here.” He pulled out his wallet and tossed a bill at my feet. “I don’t know what the fine costs, but hopefully this will at least make up for the money you missed out on tonight by being late.”

  I stared down at the hundred-dollar bill and my face warmed, my stomach dropped. “Did you just fuck Naomi or Princess Peach?” I asked, balling my hands into fists until my fingernails cut into my palm.

  He shrugged. “You tell me.”

  A laugh shook my chest and I gave into the shrill sound knowing it was laughter or tears. “I guess your job of protector has its perks occasionally, huh? You fuck me and get to pretend it’s all part of your cause. Do you think Nathan had that in mind when he asked you to look out for me?”

  By the guilty look in his eyes and the way his jaw flexed, I knew my words had their intended effect.

  “Well, I gotta get back to work.” I stood, and with all the pride I could muster, dressed back in my lingerie and jumpsuit. “Like you said, my fans are waiting.”

  “We’ll talk about this tomorrow night.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I think we are done here. I’ll go back to my life and you can go back to pretending I don’t exist. I don’t need a protector and if I did I certainly wouldn’t call you.”

  He looked like he wanted to say more, but I turned to face my computer and brought up the Wet & Wyld website. His footsteps were slow, like he was hesitant to leave, but I held it together until the front door slammed shut. Then I collapsed in a heap on the blankets, letting all the worries, insecurities, and loss that I’d experienced in my twenty-two years pour out of me.

  Losing Grady hurt worse than all the other losses before him because he was the final straw. The last person, outside of Grandma Violet, who was sure to outlive us all, that knew me. Or at least I thought he had. Maybe he’d only ever really seen me as Princess Peach. As Naomi, I was just an obligation. Well, he could take that obligation and shove it. I wouldn’t let him stick around to ease his own guilt.

  My finger hovered over the touchpad. I needed to get online if I was going to salvage the night and possibly my career. The site administrators were bound to have noticed my tardiness by now. I watched as the numbers on the bottom of my screen changed to nine o’clock. One hour worth a hundred dollars was all it had taken to turn my life upside down.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Grady

  I slammed a hand down on the steering wheel. “Shit!” My voice was gruff and hoarse as it broke through the crisp morning air that filled my truck’s empty cab.

  Ten hours later, no sleep, and I still had no idea what the hell had happened last night. She was pissed, that much was clear. Where had I made my misstep? She’d practically thrown herself at me, not that I’d minded, but if it hadn’t been what she wanted then why did she do it? Was this some sort of twisted game she was playing? Had that been Princess Peach instead of Naomi? Was she even able to separate the two anymore?

  I pulled into the fire station and was greeted by an eager and smiling Jose standing next to his Camaro. He was the last person I wanted to deal with today.

  “Hey, Grady. I need to get your picture for the website before breakfast.”

  “Who put the rookie in charge of the website?” I asked as we walked through the parking lot and into the station.

  “Hey, I have degrees in web design and computer science.”

  “Seriously?” I looked over at him and raised my eyebrows. “How’d you end up here?”

  “My grandpop was a fireman. He passed away a few years ago, thought this would be a good way to honor his name. Besides, I’m no geek who wants to sit behind a computer all day long.”

  “Nice. I need a cup of coffee and then I’ll be ready.”

  The day had been long. A quiet day at the station had left too much time to sit and stew. By the time I’d gotten off work and stopped by Naomi’s, her Jeep was gone. I knocked on the front door just in case she’d parked down the street to make me think she wasn’t home when she was hiding out, but no answer. I stayed put until half past eight and still no sign of her. I navigated to the Wet & Wyld website on my phone, but Princess Peach was offline. Where was she? I should have been glad she was offline, but I felt awful. This wasn’t the way I had wanted it to happen.

  I drove to the bar adjacent to the fire station, hopeful that a few beers would dislodge the giant boulder in my stomach. The dive bar was already busy. Jose and a few of the other guys had gone straight after work and still wore the navy shirts with our fire emblem on the chest. Usually, we were the main attraction in the bar — women loved to hit on us to fulfill some sort of fantasy and we ate that shit up. Tonight, though, even Jose was sitting down and watching across the circle bar to the other side where a lot of commotion and noise was taking place. My eyes followed and I stopped dead in my tracks, seeing red.

  Naomi wore a black dress that showed a generous amount of cleavage. Her hair was loose and hung around her shoulders, face free of the bright colors she usually wore on her lips and eyes when she was on camera, but there was no mistaking her. It seemed the crowd hadn’t been misled either.

  One particularly obnoxious guy stood at her side while his friends watched off to the side. I couldn’t hear his words, but her face told me
everything I needed to know.

  I reached her just in time to hear his slurred words. “Princess Peach, what’ll this get me?” He held up a dollar bill and placed it on the bar in front of her.

  “It’s enough for an ass-kicking.” I stepped in between her and the smiling jackass.

  He looked me up and down and then as if deciding he was in over his head, held his hands up. “Didn’t mean any harm. Can’t blame a guy for asking.”

  He shrugged off, and I took his place.

  “Oh, like you’re any better. Ninety-nine more dollars and he’d have paid as much as you,” Naomi spat and then stood, wobbling on her feet.

  I placed my hands on her waist, feeling the same shock I always got when I touched her.

  “I don’t need you to save me. I can take care of myself.”

  She pulled out her keys and I grabbed them, holding them tight in my palm. “Yeah, that’s clear. Come on, I’ll have Jose follow in my truck.”

  I held her elbow and guided her toward the exit. She didn’t resist, but I could feel her annoyance.

  “Rookie sober?” I asked the guys as we approached the other side of the bar. They all nodded and Jose pointed to the water glass in front of him.

  I tossed him my keys and motioned toward the door. “Follow me in my truck.”

  Jose looked like an awe-struck teenager, but he kept his mouth shut as I got Naomi in the passenger side of her Jeep.

  “You so much as put a scratch on my truck and I’ll kick your ass,” I called out to him and got behind the wheel.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” I said when it was clear she wasn’t going to be the first to speak. “I wasn’t paying you for sex. I was just trying to make up for the time you missed. I know how important your job is to you, and I don’t want to screw that up for you… even if I do hate what you’re doing.”

  “I never intended to go online last night. At least not while you were there. I made that decision before you ever stepped foot into my apartment so you can stop feeling guilty for costing me an hour of work.”

  “I don’t understand. You said you needed to —”

  “I know what I said. I thought if I could show you that I’m a woman now, you’d stop treating me like a child.”

  “Sweetheart, I stopped seeing you as a child years ago.”

  Her eyes went wide in surprise.

  “So it was Princess Peach last night then? You were proving a point so I’d stop bothering you about your job?”

  “No, not exactly. Yes, I wanted to prove a point, but I didn’t intend to let it go that far. Princess Peach started it, but I finished it.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve had a crush on you since I was a kid. Two birds, one stone I guess.” She shrugged like it was no big deal.

  I pulled up in front of her apartment, and my truck’s lights flashed behind us.

  “You should sleep it off tonight, but I’m coming by in the morning, and we’re talking about this.”

  “I’m not drunk. I haven’t had a drop of alcohol. I was waiting for you. I thought you’d show up and I could make you jealous like you made me last night.”

  “Last night?”

  “Your hot date,” she said in a clipped voice.

  “That’s what you think?” The pieces were starting to fall together. Between the money and my running off to an alleged hot date, she’d felt used. “There wasn’t anyone else last night. I’m not sure I could even get it up for another girl after seeing you naked,” I admitted with a chuckle. “My dick has a one-track mind, laser-focused on Naomi.”

  “You mean Princess Peach.”

  “No, I said what I meant.” Jumping down from the Jeep, I quickly circled behind it to open her door. Grabbing her hand, I tugged her down beside me. “Come on, I have an idea.”

  I got her inside and ran back out to my truck, filling Jose in and then hustling back to Naomi before she changed her mind and locked me out.

  She stood at the counter between the kitchen and living room and looked from Jose to me as we entered.

  “This is Jose. He’s a big fan of your work,” I said, patting him on the back. “He’s going to help you set up a website so you can get out from under your Wet & Wyld contract and stop giving them a cut. It’ll be more profitable, and you’ll have more control.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not necessary.”

  “No, it’s absolutely necessary. I’ve been acting like an ass. I just wanted to help, but I realize now I acted no better than one of your customers telling you how to run your life, then throwing money at you and running out the door. This was never about Nathan. I’ve wanted to look after you for years.” I offered a shrug and a half-smile. “Way before he ever asked.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re perfect and beautiful, and you drive me absolutely mind fucking crazy,” I admitted running a hand through my already disheveled hair.

  Jose chuckled and I leveled him with a look. I stepped forward and took her hands in mine. “I want a shot at this — whatever this is.”

  She pulled away and walked to the couch where she picked up a polo shirt with the logo of our local gym splashed across the front. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I don’t need it. I got a new job today working the front desk at Fit Club.”

  Shit. Had she given it all up because of how I’d treated her?

  I tugged her down the hallway and into her bedroom. “You don’t need to do this. I’m sorry I did that to you. I was awful. I wanted to help, and I just made things worse. You’re perfect, and if this is what you want to do, then I’ll support you however I can. Although screaming other dude’s names is off the table. You’re going to have to wear a gag or something.” The sound of her screaming Andrew’s name still gave me chills.

  She giggled, and I drank up the sound. “The only name I’m going to be screaming is yours. I don’t know what’s next, but I know I don’t want to go back to pretending to enjoy other men. You’ve ruined me.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. “Nathan was always saying I should look into modeling, maybe I’ll send some photos out see what happens.”

  “As long as I’m the only one that gets to touch you, that’s perfectly fine by me.”

  “All right, tell Jose to get out of here then and touch me,” she begged as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

  I kicked the door shut. “He can find his own way out.”

  THE END

  Read on for an excerpt from

  MISTER COWBOY

  by Rebecca Jenshak

  CHAPTER ONE

  January

  January Lyle believed in manners. Impeccable manners. Old-school manners. The type that had been drilled into her early in life by a father who would accept nothing less than a perfectly behaved child to uphold the family name. Ironic, really.

  “He still hasn’t called,” January muttered, clutching her cell phone with both hands as Michael, her best friend and roommate, filled a tray with whiskey tumblers and craft beers.

  “He’ll call. It’s still early, so I’m sure he just got tied up at the office. What did he send this year?”

  She raised her arm, flashing the garnet and diamond bracelet that had come via courier early that morning. “He probably had an assistant pick it out,” she said, turning the gold chain around her wrist. “Are you sure you don’t want me to change clothes and help out? I don’t mind.”

  Michael filled glasses quickly and cleanly, only the bead of sweat forming below his hairline gave away the hectic pace he was trying to keep up with tonight. “No, sit,” he insisted as she moved to stand. “It’s your birthday. You aren’t working tonight.”

  “Why not? This night is a total bust anyway.”

  Michael offered a small smile as he balanced the tray of drinks on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jan, but you know I can’t afford to turn down a gig like this.” He nodded toward the back room. “Blackstone Software paid for the room
and gave me an extra five hundred dollars for the last-minute inconvenience.”

  “Stupid rich people throwing their money around,” she huffed and narrowed her eyes as suit after stiff, knock-off suit filed around the room, circling the calamari and shrimp appetizers that had been catered in on fancy, silver platters.

  Michael’s Place, a small bar that had become a hot spot for after work happy hours and small events, was overflowing tonight. Besides the party that had reserved the back room, men and women in everything from business casual to jeans and t-shirts sat around the half-circle bar. Tables and booths made up the rest of the space and were filled with groups chatting, drinking, and watching the televisions mounted on every wall.

  She’d barely felt Michael’s absence before he was back, exchanging the empty tray for a bottle of wine. “I’m sorry about your birthday celebration. We can go out after I close, or we can have a redo and go out another night. I promise we’ll do it up right.”

  “Thanks.” She offered him a half smile as he topped off her glass. “It isn’t your fault the suits decided to throw their party tonight. I think it’s great the bar is doing well. I’m sorry I’m being all dramatic and whiny. Ignore me.”

  He playfully snapped a bar towel in her direction. “It’s your birthday; you can cry if you want to,” he sang dramatically and winked.

  Puckering her lips, she kissed the air as he turned to tend to the other side of the bar. Her father may have flaked, but she always had Michael, and he was as good as family.

  “Is this seat taken?” a gruff voice asked from beside her. The bitter cold from outside clung to him and sent a shiver across her skin.

  Turning and tilting her head to see the man attached to the voice, she inhaled sharply.

  Armani suit. Nice.

  Extremely tall.

  Impossibly gorgeous.

  She’d nearly done a full assessment as if he were staring back at her from the pages of a magazine, which he could very much have pulled off, before she realized he’d asked a question.