Sweet Destruction

by Paige Weaver

  “Why don’t I believe you?” Ms. Ross said, walking by me with a come-hither look in her eyes. Her nightgown wrapped around my legs, brushing against me as she continued by.

  I turned in the doorway, watching as she headed for the living room. In the back of my mind, the sound of water teased me, letting me know that Sam was safe in the shower. Away from her mother. Away from me.

  I took my time, following Ms. Ross to the living room. For once in her sad, pitiful life, she didn’t appear high. That meant the chances of avoiding her were slim to none.

  She took a seat on the sofa, baring her long legs for my view. “Sit,” she said, pointing to a chair.

  I sat down, extending my legs and appearing relaxed but uneasiness filtered through me like the cheap liquor I had just drank.

  “So,” Ms. Ross lit a cigarette, squinting at me through the smoke, “what do you want with my daughter?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, maybe feed her more lies, but she cut me off.

  “Don’t give me any of your bullshit, Cole. You hate my daughter.”

  “Hate is a strong word,” I said with warning. I was becoming angry. Where was this motherly concern when Sam was hungry or burning up with fever? Where was she when Sam was little, getting propositioned by one of her slimy boyfriends? She was getting high, that’s where. Giving into her own greed and lust.

  Ms. Ross studied me carefully through the haze of her cigarette smoke, her eyes calculating. “Hate is a strong word, Cole, and so is love. But I don’t think we’re talking about that right now.”

  I scoffed and shook my head with disgust, taking another drink of the bum wine. My heart pounded, her words making me uncomfortable.

  “I know you dislike my daughter, Cole. But what I can’t figure out is why you’re here, sitting in my living room,” she said, taking another long drag from her cigarette.

  I shrugged. I owed her no explanation. Sam might be her daughter but Ms. Ross no longer held the right to be called a mother.

  “Let me put this another way,” she said, tapping the burnt tip off her cigarette into an ashtray. “Sam takes care of me. I depend on her. I wanna know what you want with her? Because I know you want something.”

  So that was it. She was afraid of losing her meal ticket. Sam worked to bring in cash. She cleaned the house and paid the bills. She cared for her mother when she was hung over or strung out. Ms. Ross was just afraid of losing her maid and free ride.

  I put my drink down on the worn coffee table between us, controlling my rage.

  “Maybe I promised your son I’d look after her,” I ground out harshly.

  “Bentley? Should have known,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He does take after his daddy.”

  I ignored her bitter words. She didn’t know her son any better than she knew her daughter. If she did, she would know that Bentley was nothing like his father. He would never leave a woman high and dry, two little kids to take care of.

  “So that’s why you’re here? For Bentley?” she asked before taking a long drink from her glass.

  “Yep,” I answered, studying the alcohol in my cup.

  “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Cole. I can read a man a mile away. You’re interested in her.”

  I shrugged again. Even if I did have feelings for Sam - which I didn’t - I wouldn’t tell her mother. She would find a way to use the information against Sam. Addictions made you do stuff like that. I should know.

  “I want you to stay away from my daughter, Cole Walker. You’re trash and you always will be,” her mother said in a nasty voice, hoarse from too many shots of booze and cheap cigarettes.

  I chuckled. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. But a second later, I was fuming. I felt like an innocent man who had just be handed a death sentence. It was unjust and rocked me to my core, tearing my insides to shreds. Maybe I was trash but that didn’t mean I liked hearing it. And I sure as hell didn’t want to know I was too much of a loser for Sam, even if I knew it to be true.

  “Why should I stay away from your daughter?” I asked spitefully. “What if I don’t want to?”

  Ms. Ross leaned closer. “You’re a man. You’ll use her and walk away. If you ruin Sam like that, it will break her and then she’ll be no good to me.”

  I clenched my jaw, fury erupting in me. “You should be the one she hates, Ms. Ross, not me.”

  Sam’s mom smirked, smugness in her eyes. “There’s a fine line between love and hate, Cole. One hurts and the other destroys and you’ll do both to my daughter.”

  She was right. If I loved Sam, I would hurt her. If I hated her, it would destroy us. There was no winning.

  The only thing left was to use her.

  Chapter Twenty–Three

  -Sam-

  I stood under the hot water until it turned cold. It pelted me like little drops of ice but it was just what I needed. My skin still burned from where Walker had touched me, where he put his lips on me. I could still feel his mouth around my nipple and his fingers inside my body. I still ached for him. He was addicted to alcohol but I was afraid I might just be addicted to him.

  I combed my hair and brushed my teeth in front of the bathroom mirror. The girl staring back at me looked innocent and young, not at all like I felt. My face had been scrubbed of all makeup, the thick black mascara and heavy eyeliner gone. My lips were pink, no longer blood red. I looked like me. Not who I pretended to be.

  In my bedroom, I shut the door and dropped my towel. I hurried to put on clean shorts and a tank top. The shorts were baggy, the elastic shot, and the tank top was old. There was one hole near the right strap and another at the bottom. Both the top and the bottoms were worn and threadbare, but I didn’t have tons of cash laying around for new clothes. What I had would have to do.

  I was gearing myself up to face Walker again when my phone buzzed from the bed. I picked it up and glanced at the caller ID. Lukas.

  “What?” I answered, not hiding my irritation. The jerk had gotten high behind my back then got all handsy on the dance floor. That’s when I’d had enough and headed for the restrooms, running into Walker on my way out.

  “You okay?” Lukas asked, his voice gravelly over the phone.

  “Perfectly fine,” I snapped, resisting the urge to hang up on him.

  “Walker take you home?”

  “Yep.”

  “Guess Bent doesn’t have to worry about me anymore,” Lukas said smugly.

  “And why is that?” I asked.

  “Because you’re Walker’s problem now, not mine.”

  A second later a dial tone sounded in my ear. I pulled the phone away and stared at it. Jerk!

  Frowning, I dropped my phone on the bed and headed for my closed door. Forget about Lukas. It was time Walker and I had a heart-to-heart talk.

  I swung open my bedroom door and jumped, never expecting to come face to face with him. He stood outside my door, one hand resting on the doorframe, the other on his hip. I could smell the alcohol on him, reeking of the stuff. His gaze glided over my body, stopping on my eyes.

  “Cole,” I said breathlessly. I wanted to say more but I couldn’t remember what it was.

  Walker stepped into my room and shut the door, forcing me to either take a step back or stand close to him. I chose to take a step back.

  “I haven’t been in your room in years,” he said, glancing around, not noticing the effect he had on me.

  I looked around, seeing what he saw – a tiny room with a twin bed. Dirty clothes on the floor. A mess on the dresser.

  “Nothing’s changed,” I said, shrugging and crossing my arms over my chest.

  He glanced at me, his eyes dropping to my breasts. “Some things have.”

  I looked down and noticed that my boobs looked bigger with my arms under them. I uncrossed them, irritated with myself for caring.

  Walker smiled that drop-dead gorgeous smile and I thought I would body slam him back onto my bed. Forget what I said earlier, I wanted his cock in me.
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  I cleared my throat and focused. “Were you talking to my mom?” I asked, watching as he peered closely at a picture of Bent and me when we were young kids.

  His jaw tightened for a second. “Yeah. She finished her second bottle of that cut-rate shit and passed out in her room, dead to the world.”

  I felt a wave of sadness. It had taken her days to get over the effect of those bad drugs. I had thought maybe she would’ve learned her lesson and got her act together but I was wrong. She would never change. She couldn’t.

  I forced the depressing thought away and focused on Walker.

  “So you’re spending the night? On the couch?” I asked, trying to sound okay with it. Instead I sounded nervousness, like a schoolgirl going on her first date.

  Walker smiled again, wickedness in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m staying.”

  I cocked my head to the side, trying to read him. “Why? I mean, why the change. Why do you want to be around me? Why now?”

  “That’s a lot of why’s, Ross.”

  “And you’re avoiding the question.”

  He walked slowly toward me, stopping a foot away. “Truth?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

  “That would be nice,” I said, raising one eyebrow.

  “Bent wants me to keep an eye on you.”

  I rolled my eyes and blew out a breath, disappointed. “So that’s it. You’re doing this as a favor for your best friend. ‘Watch my little sister, will ya? She’s always in trouble. Gotta have a babysitter for that one.’” I said in best Groucho Marx voice, holding a nonexistent cigar to my mouth and wiggling my eyebrows up and down.

  Walker chuckled but I wasn’t laughing. I had let him touch me. I put my mouth around his … my eyes dropped to his crotch … Jesus, I was a fool. Walker had just been having a little fun, something to fill his time while he watched his best friend’s little sister. There was nothing between us. I had played right into his hands.

  “Despite what we did, Walker, I still hate you,” I said, hiding my hurt. “You were just having a good time while you did a favor for Bentley, right?”

  Walker’s eyes darkened. “No,” he said, his voice a deadly tone.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed. “Really?”

  “Really,” he said, a dangerous frown on his face as he took a step closer to me.

  I backed up, my mouth going dry. Walker’s eyes burned into mine, an unquenched hunger in them as he followed me, one step at a time.

  I gulped as my back hit the door, my spine hitting the knob. My breathing quickened when he put a hand on either side of me, imprisoning my body between him and the door. Leaning closer, his warm breath mixed with mine.

  “I’m staying because you’re in my blood, Sam, and I can’t get rid of you. I’ve tried but I’m addicted. I’ve been addicted for years, I just couldn’t admit it.” His gaze dropped to my lip ring then back up again. His voice was a soft rumble that I felt through my whole body. “I want you and I hate it. So get out of my head, Sam, and get out of my heart.”

  His words hit me like a punch to the stomach, almost taking me down. But it was his mouth that kept me upright and breathing. It swooped down, seizing mine in a kiss.

  With the door at my back and Walker pressed against me, I became a liquefied mess, everything in me dissolving. He nipped at my upper lip, taking it between his teeth and tugging. I moaned and grabbed the waistband of his jeans, pulling him forward. He fell against me, the door groaning under our weight.

  I sucked at his tongue, urging it into my mouth, as he reached beneath my tank top to find my breast. I arched into his hand, giving him more. Wanting him to touch me forever. He took what I offered. His thumb ran over my nipple, making my body go weak. Then he did it again, torturing me. I held my breath, afraid to breathe, afraid I would fall apart.

  He toyed with one breast then the other, making them feel heavier. I thought I wouldn’t be able to take anymore but then he started rolling my nipple between his fingers, sending an intense fever through me.

  I cried out. It was too much. My body couldn’t handle what he was doing to me. I pushed against him weakly, but he didn’t yield. He was out for more.

  His mouth became frantic, demanding one minute, challenging me the next. I could taste the alcohol on his tongue. It was warm and intoxicating, bittersweet. I knew his drinking made him dangerous. Six feet five inches of nothing but trouble. Much more than I was capable of handling.

  “Walker, you’ve been drinking,” I said against his lips, my breaths coming faster as he pulled my nipple roughly then rubbed it with care.

  “So?” he said, moving to my jaw.

  “If I say no—”

  “I’ll stop,” he said with a thick voice.

  “Promise?” I asked.

  “On my life.”

  His fingers made it hard to think, removing any filter I might have on my mouth.

  “I don’t like you drinking,” I admitted, groaning he ran his fingertips lightly over my stomach, going lower.

  “And I don’t like you saying ‘no,’” he grumbled, his mouth finding mine again.

  His kiss was harsh, punishing. Unrelenting. He shoved my shorts out of the way roughly, his fingers finding me immediately. At first he stroked slowly, then he became rougher, driving me closer to the edge. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he slid two fingers deep inside me.

  I hissed and threw my head back, breaking our kiss. His mouth latched onto my throat as he withdrew and thrust his fingers again. My entrance was tight and already wet, thanks to my shower, but what he was doing increased the slickness, making his fingers glide easily into me. My body rocked against him as he increased the speed, sliding two fingers in and out of me faster. His tongue slipped out to taste the skin of my neck just as his fingers delved deeper, hitting my barrier.

  I cried out, close to coming, my body writhing against his. Walker’s mouth left my neck quickly, covering mine to stifle my cries.

  “Not yet, sweetheart,” he whispered, removing his fingers from me. The emptiness made me want to scream. He had just stopped my free fall into unbelievable bliss and that made me mad.

  I heard him reach behind me and lock my bedroom door. A second later he had me on the bed, my legs dangling over the side.

  I sat up on my elbows and watched as he lay beside me. With a dark look in his eyes, he lowered his head. His mouth traveled down my body, kissing and tasting my skin. He licked my collarbone then the top of each breast. He moved farther, his teeth tugging at my nipple through my tank top, pulling gently. I groaned and watched him through hooded eyes. He moved to the other nipple, giving it as much attention. His head was bent over me, his dark hair falling over his face. It was erotic and breathtaking – this man enjoying me.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered against my tank top, his breath leaving moisture behind on top of my breasts. “Your tits … your pussy … god, baby, I want it all.”

  “Mmm,” I said breathlessly. “I’m glad you like them.”

  He chuckled in a low rumble, running his hands over my body in a slow caress. “Little smartass. It’s time someone put you in your place. Lay down.”

  “Make me.” I smiled, feeling wicked.

  He growled in warning and gathered the ends of my tank top in one fist. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Sam. Lay down.”

  I did as he commanded, biting my lip as he brushed his lips across my stomach.

  “Good girl,” he whispered against my skin.

  A deep clenching started in my belly as he licked and kissed his way up my body, taking his time. He left damp kisses behind, branding my skin. My tank top was pushed higher with each touch of his lips until I was completely exposed, left for him to feast on.

  I arched into him when his mouth closed around my breast. He took possession of my whole nipple, suckling hard until I almost cried out. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, his tongue flicked out, circling around the puckered
point and wetting it.

  I grabbed a handful of his hair as he licked and sucked, drawing my entire nipple into his mouth. At the same time he pinched and pulled the other, gentle one minute, rough the next. I held onto him, hoping he never stopped. But this was Walker. He did things his way.

  His mouth left my breast and moved down to my waist. He kissed my side, right over my hipbone. His hand ran across my stomach and down to my inner thigh. I trembled when his fingers moved higher, encountering the hem of my shorts. Impatiently, he grabbed the material in one fist and yanked, sweeping my shorts and panties down with impatience.

  That’s when I got cold feet.

  “Walker, maybe we should wait,” I said, clenching my legs together and trapping his hand between my thighs. The yearning in my voice embarrassed me, calling me out on the lie. I didn’t want to wait. I wanted him now.

  “No. I’m not finished with you yet. I’ll never be,” Walker said, dropping to his knees on the floor by my feet.

  My heart started racing frantically. His mouth was right in line with my crotch. I felt myself grow wetter, hotter. But I needed him higher. I wanted his mouth back on my breasts. That was the safe zone. The area I was okay with. I grabbed a hold of his t-shirt and tried to tug him up but he didn’t move an inch.

  “Hands off, sweetheart. It’s my turn,” he said, untangling my hand from his shirt. “You say the magic word and I’ll stop. I promise. Until then…”

  With one yank, he had my shorts and panties the rest of the way down my legs and off. I clenched my legs tighter together, embarrassment making me turn pink.

  But then Walker did the unthinkable.

  He shoved my legs apart, opening me completely for him. Without warning his mouth went between my legs, a possessive growl escaping past his lips.

  I hissed, his name exploding from me. My upper body shot upright but Walker didn’t pause. He swiped his tongue over my clit, marking me with the heat from his mouth. Ecstasy shot through me. His wide shoulders held my legs open, leaving me no room for modesty. I squirmed under him, wanting to escape but praying he wouldn’t stop. I had never known anything so … amazing. He took his time, licking me. Tasting me. Enjoying me.