by K B Cinder
“For now.” He smiled, hauling me in for a hug. “I’m sorry that I’m the king of cockbags.”
I giggled before pulling away to reach for the door, knowing Dash would appear at any moment. Not a good look for the story I was trying to sell. “Karine christened you that, you know?”
She’d made him a crown and scepter, too, the title earned fair and square after a particularly fiery drunken argument over dish towels.
He groaned, following me into the kitchen. “Don’t remind me of that colossal pain in the ass.”
The room reeked of beer, a collection of empty bottles now lining the kitchen counters. There were dozens, a few crushed cans thrown in the mix.
“She’s five feet tall. That’s hardly colossal.” However, if you got some tequila in her, she’d turn into an angry Sasquatch before your very eyes. It was a hell of a talent, really.
He held the door open to the connecting hallway, fresh air rushing in. “She makes up for physical height in aggravation.”
“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two were in my class. It’s like you have a crush on one another.”
“Not a fucking chance,” he growled, shoving the door open to the party. I was worried he’d whack someone with how hard he pushed it, but thankfully, the coast was clear.
“Where’s your date?” I asked, stepping aside to let a drunk man stagger by, his shirt unbuttoned to the navel, revealing a thicket of long, straw blond curls and pepperoni nipples.
“At the bar.”
Sure enough, Jessica Rabbit 2.0 was sipping on a martini while talking to Karine, looming over my tiny friend who was still dancing while seated on a bar stool.
“She’s gorgeous,” I noted, dodging another drunkard. “Be nice to her. You’re lucky she’s out with you, Shrek.”
He shot me the finger with a laugh. “Thanks, Sissy.”
I winked, “Anytime.”
The lights had dimmed considerably since I’d headed to the back, the white decorations appearing to glow in the low light. The mood changed with it, transforming from playful to serious, couples sprouting like weeds through the cement floor, flocking the corners of the room with their canoodling.
Sage paused as we reached my post, eyeing Santa’s empty throne. “Where’s Dash?”
“Out on his sleigh?” I offered with a shrug.
I flipped my hair over my shoulder, subtly glancing behind us as I did. I searched the crowd but found nothing.
Dash still hadn’t reappeared, a knot forming in my gut at the realization. I’d royally screwed up.
He reemerged a good ten minutes later, mounting his throne in full Santa attire looking as innocent as can be, no traces of our romp anywhere you looked. He stared straight ahead, ignoring me entirely.
I couldn’t be mad. I earned that.
But I didn’t deserve the way he laughed and smiled with a particularly flirty guest who wandered over in stilettos, giving her his undivided attention. She ate it up, too, sitting on his lap for photo after photo, giggling with her arm looped around his shoulders as she posed.
Each smile stung. Every shared laugh wielded a dagger, one I’d handed her by walking away. Now I was falling on it. Repeatedly.
But I couldn’t look away.
Her hand rested on his bare chest, her body sitting where mine had minutes earlier, every tanned curve nestled close. She must have bathed in body glitter, sparkling like an ornament under the lights.
It made me sick.
I waved over a shot girl, forcing down two cinnamon whiskeys that burned like hell. I didn’t care. At least they got my mind off of it for a moment.
Shrouded by the beefy elves, I checked the time, seeing 1:23 A.M. on my cell. I had to survive just over a half an hour, and I was clear. Free to run away screaming if I wanted, something that was more tempting every time I looked at Dash and his mystery girl.
Brian, the elf, nudged my shoulder, catching me in the act in between drunken carols with his friends. “How are you hanging, ho-ho?”
“By a thread.”
One that would snap if two o’clock didn’t hurry the hell up. I was crawling out of my skin watching them and couldn’t wait to be home, far away from it all, tucked in a safe place where no one could hurt me.
“Sickening, isn’t it?” he laughed, looking between me and Dash. “Annie is head over heels for him. He strings her along, and she keeps coming back for more. Such a sucker.”
I glanced back at him to follow his eyes, unsure who he was talking about. He must have thought I was looking at someone else. “Who?”
He rested his hands on his hips as he surveyed the scene, looking absurd in his jingly hat. “The Captain.”
It hit me like a ton of bricks, sucking the air out of my lungs. “Oh.”
The weight of fifty-thousand elephants was resting on my chest, making each breath seem a hundred times harder than the last.
Sage hadn’t been lying. He was warning me, trying to save me from myself, spying a Juni catastrophe a mile away. It was a gift, really, seeing that while my mistakes were expected, they were as hard to predict as earthquakes. They’d pop up to say hello before going dormant, a major one striking every few years. Usually one large enough to rock me to my core. Not that I ever learned, clearly.
“Poor girl.” I meant it for both of us, two women wrapped up with one vicious snake.
“Juniper!”
I turned toward the voice, unsure where I knew it from, only to groan as my eyes fell on Stank Breath, the prosecutor as vile as I remembered.
“I’ve been looking for you! The outfit looks amazing!” He smiled wide, cheeks flushed red from whatever he had lubing him up in his cup.
I knew then that he was well aware that it wasn’t an elf costume from the jump. He wanted to see me in the skimpy thing, and the thought made me nauseous.
He continued on, either not picking up on my disgust or not caring. “I saw Mr. Finger here. He was very appreciative of your service.”
Brian was staring at me with his jaw dropped as I ignored one of the most powerful men in the county, but I didn’t engage. I wanted to tell him what I thought both of them could do with their thoughts, but I was technically still on the volunteer clock.
Stank Breath leaned close to try to whisper in my ear, but I pulled back, my fist balling to sock him where it hurt.
But I didn’t get the chance.
Not because I didn’t want to, either.
Dash’s hand clasped over it, saving me from my worst instincts. I always did prefer fight over flight.
“Prosecutor Norton, it’s nice to see you.” He extended his other hand for a handshake that Stank Breath reluctantly met, his eyes focused on Dash holding my balled fist. “I see you met my girlfriend, Juniper.”
His girlfriend? What about body glitter girl? I glanced over at the throne he’d fled, the sparkly suitor gone.
And what the hell was he thinking? If Sage heard him, we were 100-percent, do-not-pass-go fucked.
Stank Breath cleared his throat, looking ill at the news. “My, you sure rebound quickly, Ms. Mullen.”
“Women like Juni don’t last long on the shelf, Norton. I’ve had my eye on her for years. She’s my little Christmas miracle.”
Years? What was he talking about?
Did he think I didn’t see the exchange between him and his little Annie?
“Well, keep her out of trouble then, Cap. I’d hate to see her in my office again.” He threw a smile in, but I was in no laughing mood, meeting it with hard eyes.
Dash knew it, too, his arm slipping over my shoulders. “Nothing to worry about. We’ve been too busy getting into trouble at home.”
Stank Breath’s nostrils flared and he left, his grubby fingers crushing his plastic cup as he did.
“Your girlfriend, huh?” I scoffed, shrugging out of Dash’s hold. “I thought sparkle baby was.”
“Sparkle baby?” he laughed, face lighting up with a smile. “Is that your n
ew nickname for yourself?”
“Annie.”
His brows furrowed as he looked down at me. “What about her?”
“How long has she been your little pet?”
He stepped back, expression falling into irritation. “My pet? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on. Admit it, Dash. You’re caught. It is what it is. We’re not dating technically, but the whole lead-up before upstairs was a nice touch. Do you use that for all the girls?”
He actually made me think he gave a shit about me being the one to call the shots between us. It’d all been a damn lie.
“Annie is my coworker, Juni, and there are no other girls. I thought I made that clear. I never would have…” His eyes swooped our surroundings before settling on mine again. “That wouldn’t have happened if there were. I wouldn’t risk Armageddon with Sage for fun, either. I meant what I said. You’re the one who walked away.”
“And you strolled right into the arms of another woman. Save it, Dash. Leave it as casual, and we’ll call it a day. Forget it ever happened.”
“If you really think so low of me, that’s fine,” he replied, his voice flat. “Thanks for saving us both a lot of trouble in the long run. Bye, Juni.”
He left me then, and rather than relief, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d made a terrible mistake.
16
The Uber ride home with Karine was an adventure, the radio tuned to a Backstreet Boys marathon that she was feeling her oats too. At some point, she started singing in Portuguese, confusing the hell out of the poor driver.
We made it home in one piece, and I helped her strip out of her dress, her drunken hands useless against its clasps. I wiped her face clean of makeup and tucked her in, leaving a bottle of water and two ibuprofen on her nightstand for the morning.
I wanted to unleash the whirlwind of troubles clouding my mind to her, hoping she’d make a good sounding board while she was drunk and forget it all before morning, but I couldn’t.
It sounded strange, but it still felt dirty to admit what I’d done aloud. You could forget a kiss but not sex. I still remembered every second of my first time ever, an awkward horizontal dance my sophomore year that I wished I could forget. I needed an unfuck button, really.
So, I sat and stewed with my feelings in the living room after a shower, too wired to sleep. Pajamas and television made everything better, anyway.
The Christmas romance marathon swooped in to save me again, this time with the unliking pairing of a Christmas tree farmer and a socialite.
For once, I found myself laughing at the ridiculousness rather than scrutinizing, allowing me to enjoy the movie for a change. Who would have thought a couple named Bucky and Peaches would do it? They sounded a little like a porn pairing to be honest, but I let it slide for entertainment’s sake.
I kept my phone on the cushion beside me, occasionally stealing glances at it during a commercial. Daring it to buzz with a text. A call. A Reddit notification.
But nothing came.
My mind kept wandering back to Dash, unease settling in like an overbearing mother-in-law, popping in to check up on me despite me insisting I was fine. Because really, I was. I was fine. I wasn’t bleeding. I had a slight buzz. Things could be worse.
And they got worse with each passing minute.
I knew Dash. I knew how he operated compared to Sage. He wasn’t a pig. He had more loyalty in his pinky toe than my brother. His wasn’t conditional, either.
The whole situation just didn’t sit right with me. I should have listened to him. Heard him out. Had an adult conversation. Got the answers.
Soon even Bucky and Peaches couldn’t save me, my hand drifting to my phone.
It was three in the morning, and I was rude as hell, but I didn’t care. I texted No.
We need to talk.
I realized once I sent it that the text read like a precursor to a fight or break up, but it was too late. It was already on its way to his phone across town where he’d either reply nicely, tell me to fuck off, or block me. Maybe all of them in that order.
He was sober though, having not wet his whistle all night. Something about keeping it cool in front of his men. I hated to admit it, but it was sexy as hell to see him all buttoned-up and disciplined.
That clear head might make him more willing to talk, too.
No: We need to sleep.
I smiled at his name in my phone, though my stomach clenched nervously at his message.
I should have talked to you instead of jumping to conclusions.
It took me four tries to spell conclusions. I blamed anxiety, but I knew it was because I was a shit speller. Good thing kindergarten vocabulary was as basic as can be. My biggest concern was spelling hamster correctly once in a while.
No: No shit.
I leaned back into the cushions, staring at Bucky and Peaches caroling together on the screen. Hating them for their stupid, perfect relationship with no hiccups. I bet her brother wasn’t waiting to crack Bucky’s knees with a bat if he found out about them.
Someone said she liked you, and you were stringing her along. I got mad. Shoot me for being a human, right?
I’d done a lot worse things when I was mad. Brandon and his car could attest to it.
No: Who said it?
I groaned, throwing my head back. I didn’t want to start drama between him and my elf buddy. Brian had been cool most of the night. He even did the worm.
A concerned citizen.
I couldn’t rat on my worm-dancing friend. He was looking out for me, and I appreciated it. I needed all the damn help I could get.
No: Tall elf with muscles? Soul patch?
Shit. Do I lie or out my elvish companion?
The dots of his reply danced on my screen, giving me an out.
No: That’s Brian, and he’s been dying for a slice of Annie’s ass since he started. And Annie wants all four inches of Brian but is too chickenshit to ask. It’s a clusterfuck. Go ahead and ask everyone I work with.
Ouch. I had to remember not to piss him off. He might tell someone about my ugly pink undies.
No: It’s getting late. So, you can either stay mad at me about some non-existent relationship, or you can grow a pair and invite me over.
My jaw dropped at the message, and I started to type but stopped, spying the dots of a followup in the works.
No: And don’t play soft with me, Juni. No more games. We’re too old for that shit.
I laughed, smiling wide as I did, the overcast of anxiety clearing.
A screenshot popped over, one of a text exchange between him and Annie, her griping about Brian flirting with me all night, wondering how she should ask him out. It confirmed everything he said in one neat little package with timestamps to prove it. There was even a picture of Brian and I mid-laugh.
Get over here, No.
He showed up on my doorstep fifteen minutes later, still wearing his ridiculous Santa jacket over a t-shirt and jeans. Even dressed like an ass he was hot, and I couldn’t help but yank him inside by it to kiss him.
“Are you Yoda now?” he asked as he pulled away, stepping to the side to let me shut and lock the door.
It was a process - two deadbolts, a chain, and a handle lock keeping us safe. One day I’d add an attack dog to it and the baseball bat in the umbrella holder.
“Why? Am I little and green?” I glanced down at my hands, looking for something amiss.
“No, you said: get over here, no.”
I smiled, standing on my tippy-toes to press another kiss on his lips. “Your name is No in my phone.”
“That’s kinda rude,” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “I have you in mine as Juni B. Goode.”
“Why’s that?” I asked, flopping on the couch. I patted the seat beside me and he joined me, his arm outstretched over the top of the couch behind my head.
“Because you need to be reminded to behave constantly. Why am I No?”
“Because I needed to re
mind myself that you were off limits.”
He leaned forward and kissed me, knocking me for a loop. “Why’s that, petite genévrier?”
“Because you are a no,” I muttered, my eyes fixed on his lips. “And if you could just speak French to me the rest of the night, that’d be great.”
“Je ne suis pas d'accord,” he whispered, kissing me and sending me spiraling again. “I do not agree.”
“About?”
“Me being a no,” he breathed, twirling a strand of my damp hair in his fingers. “I’d like to think I’m a yes.”
“Do you want to do this?” I asked, still drunk off his kisses.
“This what?” Another kiss sent me floating in the sky.
“Us.”
I was talking crazy, but he was worth it. Sage or not, I wanted it. I wanted an us. Whatever it was. Whatever it would be.
He kept playing with my hair, twirling and untwirling a lock around his finger.
“So, do you?” I pushed.
He chuckled, letting go of my hair. He hooked a finger under my chin, tilting my mouth up to his. “Fuck yes.”
Our mouths met, and we got swept up in each other once again, putting Bucky and Peaches PG pecks to shame.
My boyfriend lifted me, carrying me toward my bedroom, the door shut and locked. Thankfully, Karine was out like a light, all her energy danced out.
Our clothes were off before we hit the bed, a condom from his wallet sheathing him. We tumbled back into my bed with him on top, one slow slide filling me where I needed him most.
Our lips met once again, my nails biting into the flesh of his back as he pulled back and thrust forward again. My hips rose to meet the next one. And the next.
With every thrust, the desperation built, nothing satisfying either of us. He pumped hard, but I met him each time, my IKEA headboard taking the brunt of our passion as it banged against my wall.
We went from zero to one-hundred, his fingers biting into the flesh of my hips, holding me still as he fucked me senseless. His thrusts became torturous. Punishing, even.
