by K B Cinder
“You’re fucking impossible!” he growled, turning to walk deeper into the room, his hands threaded in his hair as he stormed away.
“Coming from you?” I huffed.
He didn’t reply, giving nothing but a view of his muscled back as he looked out the window beyond the bed, the flimsy cotton of his shirt cradling every bulge.
“Why are you here?” I asked, staying by the door.
After the Trey incident, my fight or flight instinct was telling a bitch to run. It wasn’t that Sage would ever physically hurt me, but the emotional pain he inflicted hurt infinitely more.
He didn’t face me, his eyes still locked on the lights of the Strip. “I thought that something had happened when you didn’t answer.”
The familiar tingle of guilt warmed the pit of my stomach. “I turned my phone off, for obvious reasons.”
“You scared the shit out of me, Rini.”
My heart did backflips again at the nickname, though I tried my best to get control of the reins. “I’m sorry. It keeps going berserk. I just want peace and quiet.”
“I don’t think that will happen anytime soon.”
“It’ll die down by morning.” I wasn’t so sure of that, but I wanted to believe it.
He tilted his head from side to side as he studied the city of sin, the pop of the bones audible from where I stood. “It’s not going anywhere. It’s been viewed six million times in, what, four hours?”
“So? Something else will pop up, and people will forget.”
It was a crazy world out there. Weird shit happened all the time, right? Maybe an A-list actress would eat a burger and spawn pregnancy rumors. I hoped one would, at least.
He turned to face me, a smile touching his lips. “Karine, you knocked a porn star out with a fake dick.”
“I’m aware,” I replied, unable to keep a giggle at bay at the tail end. It was that much funnier when someone else said it aloud.
“I wasn’t! You could’ve told me!” he chuckled, his shoulders slumping as the laughter chased away the rage. “Nice right hook, by the way.”
Spike really did most of the work, but I’d happily soak up the compliment. “I learned from the best.”
He turned with a grin, his brows raised in surprise. “You remember those lessons?”
“Clearly.”
He was the one who taught me to always aim for the jaw. A well-placed uppercut shuts out the lights. I could still hear him in the ring behind me as he guided my punch to the bag. It had been a decade, but the week of self-defense bootcamp at his gym stuck with me.
I licked my lips, remembering more than just his moves in the ring — moves he blessed me with one chilly night at the Jersey Shore.
He chuckled, either not following my dirty line of thinking or not caring enough to show it. “Nice improvisation, MacGyver.”
“Thanks.”
His eyes drifted over me lazily, his hands falling to snag in his pockets. “You’ve always had great form.”
“Maybe the Phillies will give me a call?” I joked. “I can’t fight worth a damn, but mama can swing for the fences.”
He nodded, rocking back on his sock-sheathed heels. The sight reminded me that he’d raced across a hotel with no shoes to check on me. “We’ll have to call you the Meat Hammer Slammer.”
I grinned, relaxing against the cool wood. “I prefer the Tallywacker Smacker.”
His lips twisted as he considered it before he nodded again in agreement. “Catchy. I dig it.”
“Thanks. I’ll make sure I order t-shirts now.”
“I’ll need an extra-large, extra-tall when you do,” he informed with a teasing grin. “Otherwise, I’ll be rocking a crop top.”
I doubted any woman in her right mind wouldn’t appreciate seeing that. Sage’s abs deserved a dictionary entry with a photo.
I kept my eyes on his face, fighting the urge to let them roam. “I’ll grab one with each slogan.”
I didn’t know if I’d be ordering anything anytime soon with the nuclear bomb I dropped on one of the adult industry’s biggest stars. I might as well have come out as anti-porn. One pecker decker took out more than Trey — it likely killed my career.
Sage took in a deep breath, releasing it in a steady whoosh as he studied me. “So, what happened in the restaurant? Did you actually meet with anyone?”
The mere mentioning turned my stomach. “Oh, I met some people, all right: the Akagi brothers, a few of yesterday’s celebrities, and about a brick of cocaine.”
He winced. “Ouch. Any good come out of it?”
Oh, yeah, totally. I did a bucket of coke and learned to do the Hokey Pokey at the speed of light.
I shoved away the urge to snap at him. He was just trying to be nice. “Nope. My only parting gift was this.” I pointed at my face, the left side aching like the devil.
“At least you’re still cute,” he said with a shrug.
I doubted it, but again, I was a whore for compliments after such a disaster of a night. Having someone around to feed me chocolate and tell me I was pretty would be a dream come true.
“Aw, you think I’m cute?” I teased, a little too giddy to my own ears. Ugh.
“When you’re not being a complete dickhead,” he replied with a laugh, a hand sliding up to rub along his jaw. With it came that slow, sexy scrape, eliciting flashbacks of the time I’d heard it as his face rubbed against my thighs.
Of the million sexy things about Sage Mullen, his jaw was definitely near the top of the list. He had one of those chiseled fuckers that screamed superhero. I would bet big money that his reflection on a dimmed phone’s screen was sexy even when he was looking down at it, double-fisting Fritos.
“So, never?” I countered, batting away thoughts of running my lips along it.
Been there, done that. Down, bitch.
He bounced his head from side to side, still stroking his jaw. “The cuteness usually makes an appearance when you’re quiet.”
Wait, was he flirting with me?
I searched his face for an answer but came up empty. If I had to guess, probably not. Sage always had a way of making you feel magical. Besides his looks, it was the main reason his bed was never empty. “The same could be said of you; I’m sure.”
“You think I’m cute?” he asked, echoing my words from earlier as he stopped mid-rub on his jaw.
I wanted him to keep going, dammit. That sound alone could be the permanent soundtrack to self-love time.
“Cute isn’t really the word. Beefy, maybe?”
Cute was too tame for the likes of him.
Cute men wore vests and turtlenecks. Sage ate fucks like that like they were protein bars.
He was sexy. Handsome. Fuckable.
“Beefy?” he chortled, nearly choking on the word. “What am I, a fucking burrito?”
I smiled. The first, real, honest-to-God smile of the night. “A man burrito.”
He cocked his head, taking a step forward. “So, I’m delicious?”
Insanely delicious. If he were up for grabs with no feelings attached, I’d gladly take a bite.
“I never said that.” But I fucking meant it.
He continued to come, crossing the room in what felt like a second despite his slow, exaggerated strides. “You didn’t have to. Burritos are delicious. It’s a fact.”
I swallowed hard when he was inches away, his cologne drifting over to tease. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”
His head dipped, his lips hovering just above mine. He was so close I could feel his breath against them, the crisp scent of mint invading. “Am I?”
I nodded slowly, careful not to touch my lips to his as I did. Not because I didn’t want to — let’s face it, I wanted those lips on every part of my body — but because I couldn’t handle the inevitable rejection. That moment when, yet again, it dawned on him that he didn’t want me.
His eyes drifted down to my lips, his heavy, dark lashes shielding the deep green as he did. “What else can I p
ut in there?”
11
Sage didn’t give me a chance to respond.
Not that I had a sensible answer for him anyway.
His lips fell on mine, and all bets were off.
The worries of the past and future vanished, leaving us and the bliss of the present.
The years melted, and I was eighteen again, my heart soaring that Sage Mullen was kissing me. Sage Mullen was cradling my face in his hands, so powerful yet so gentle, taking special care not to drift too close to my cheek as he ravaged my mouth.
I gripped the front of his shirt, my knuckles white as my fingers twisted in the cloth, hauling him closer and meeting his moves without fear.
Only, I wasn’t eighteen anymore.
I was a grown-ass woman who knew who I was and what I wanted.
Currently, it was him.
He grunted against my lips, a hand sliding to rest behind my neck while the other dipped to my chest, kneading a breast through the delicate satin. As he found a hardened nipple, he pinched, making me jump.
“Fucker,” I growled against his mouth.
He laughed, his shudders shaking us both. I pushed him toward the bed, our lips still conjuring up spells we couldn’t escape as we stumbled in a jumble of limbs.
Nothing mattered but us.
Not the pain in my face.
Not the heaviness in my chest.
Not the knocking at the door.
Wait, what?
I broke the kiss as Sage’s hands hooked at my waist.
Sure enough, there was a patter against the door.
“Karine! Open the door, you dickhole!”
Yep, definitely Juni.
I looked to Sage, who was oddly calm given our current state, before my eyes dropped to his crotch, finding his high roller at attention. There was no hiding that monster if Juni barged in.
The last thing I wanted to discuss with Juni right now of all times was her brother’s dick. More specifically, how at one time, it was parked inside her best friend. Or how it almost made a return visit before she came knocking.
I pointed at Colossus, the organ jutting out in all its glory beneath his sweatpants. “Go in the bathroom, and figure out what to do with that hammer. I’ll handle her.”
He chuckled softly before pressing a final kiss to my lips, breaking away to vanish behind the pocket door.
“I’m coming!’ I squawked, just as Juni started smacking at the wood again.
I hurried over and tugged the door wide, revealing both Juni and Dash, the couple still dressed to the nines after their night out.
Meanwhile, my nipples that could cut diamonds were in full fucking view thanks to my satin top. Great.
I crossed my arms to shield the goods the best I could, not that I needed to as Juni’s face crumpled, and she launched herself into me for a hug.
I staggered back against her weight, nearly toppling over. We likely would have hit the floor if it weren’t for Dash catching his future fiancée’s hips from behind.
“Your face! Your face! Your face!” It’s all Juni could say, the words tripping over one another as she squeezed the life out of me.
“It’s busted; I know!” I squeaked, desperately wiggling to loosen her grasp. “Can’t breathe, bitch! Can’t breathe!”
Juni gave me a sliver of space, pulling back to study me through her tears. “Tell me he’s in jail! If he’s not, the motherfucker is going to wish he was!”
“I have no idea where he is. My phone is off.”
If I had to guess, he was either in still in the slammer or being whisked away by one of his crooked cronies.
“No wonder you wouldn’t answer!” she exploded, her green eyes popping wide. “Rini, you need to keep your phone on. I had a fucking heart attack the whole way here. The first thing I saw when I turned on my cell in the cab was a video of you being attacked on Facebook.”
“Hey, I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile that felt like a hot poker was stabbing my cheek.
Juni was unmoved. “Baby, you have stitches in your fucking face. They had to sew you back together again like Humpty Dumpty. You are not fine.”
“He got it worse; trust me.”
I didn’t see blood on Trey in any of the videos, but getting knocked out would have sucked more than stitches. Who knows what he would have done with me unconscious?
I shuddered at the thought, sinking my teeth into my tongue to keep any wayward tears at bay.
I was fine. I was okay. Nothing else was going to happen.
Juni’s shoulders bounced with laughter which forced brown ringlets from her chignon, the updo on its last legs of the night. “I saw. I can’t wait to see that mugshot. He’ll be delivering dick pics with his face for at least a week.”
I smirked, finding it way more comfortable than a full-fledged smile. “Hopefully.”
“Oh, you crazy bitch, I love you!” She pulled me close, crushing me against her bosom.
Luckily, the untouched side of my face made impact, not that it was all that pleasant to have my cheek smooshed against a beaded bodice.
She froze suddenly, her arms stiffening around me. “Dude… you …” she started, sniffing my hair. Yes, she sniffed me like a fucking dog. “You smell like Sage.”
“I what?” I must’ve misheard her. I did have one ear pressed to her boob like a conch shell. All I could hear on that side was the thump of her heart. For all I knew, she could’ve said I smelled like ass.
Juni’s observation caught Dash’s attention, who appeared to sniff the air beside us. “It does smell like Sage in here.”
Well, fuck me running.
Sage’s cologne was distinctly Sage, but it was after midnight. Couldn’t they be off their game for once?
“He’s in the bathroom,” I began, wriggling to free myself from Juni’s death grip. “He picked me up from the hospital. The police insisted I call someone, and I didn’t want to interrupt your show.”
Juni’s face fell with guilt, though her eyebrow arched a heartbeat later as she let me go. “You haven’t killed each other in here?”
I glanced at Dash, seeing nothing but a blank slate. He either really was clueless or had a phenomenal poker face. If he did, I needed to borrow it.
I shrugged nonchalantly, deciding to shoot from the hip, as usual. It had worked so far this trip. Kinda. “No, he’s been in there for a while. I told him not to eat that chili dog on the way back…”
As if on cue, the toilet flushed, the super whoosh loud and clear through the pocket door. The porcelain throne gave an airplane one a run for its money.
“He’s always full of shit,” Dash muttered, his eyes catching mine.
Fuck. Did he know?
“So, how long have you been back?” Juni asked, strolling in to flop on my bed, solidifying her role as the night’s cock block.
“Maybe an hour?” I ventured, pulling the figure out of my ass as I walked over. I sat cross-legged beside her, tugging a pillow on my lap to hug, hiding the rock-hard beacons literally pointing to the arousal coursing through me.
The pocket door slid open and out walked Sage with his trouser snake wrangled, though the outline of his package remained by the grace of the sweatpants god.
And good lord did that god deserve a shrine.
“Oh, you look comfy,” Juni noted, her eyes passing between our two pajama-clad bodies.
Sage crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall. “Hey, I wasn’t about to lounge around in jeans waiting for you assholes.”
“Sorry, our phones were off for the show,” Juni said, her attention turning back to me. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, baby girl.”
“It’s fine,” I assured, patting her exposed thigh lightly. “I survived. No one fucked with me, thanks to having the Terminator as an escort.”
Juni hopped off the bed, scurrying to pull her big brother into one of her patented squeeze-the-shit-out-of-you hugs. “Thank you so much.”
Sage’s eyes met mine over
the top of his sister’s head. “Anytime. I charge by the hour, though, so you guys owe me about a dozen burritos.”
Juni pulled back to scowl up at him. “Burritos? You’ve always been a taco guy.”
Sage grinned, the devilish twinkle reaching his eyes. “Some things change, Sissy.”
Some things didn’t, however, like the absolute agony of lady blue balls AKA blue bean.
I was blessed with the oh-so-lovely affliction as Juni and Dash happily chatted up Sage, who, like the demon he was, didn’t seem to share the same fate.
He was back to regular-old Sage, all traces of desire gone as he shared laughs and aimed a few cock-clocking jokes at me while I wiggled in my seat.
The heat between my legs was unbearable. My body remembered the things he could do, how delicious the magic was that he whipped up with a finger or two.
And that mouth? Well, fuck.
He could make a woman feel unstoppable with his words, but with those lips and that tongue? He could physically take you to the top of the world.
Maybe that’s why it stung when everyone left for the night, and he didn’t look at me once. Not only that, he didn’t text or reemerge later to finish what we had started. He simply vanished as if nothing had happened.
I fell from the exosphere, plummeting headfirst from being his world to the void of nothingness.
I waited by the phone for at least an hour, casting aside countless notifications in search of the only one that mattered.
The one that never came.
12
Fun fact: trying to cover a black eye without the proper tools is a crapshoot at best.
Attempt number one looked like I was smuggling a clementine in my eye socket, while attempt number two’s smoky eye left me with a troubling resemblance to Sloth from Goonies in drag.
In the end, I wiped my face clean and embraced the stormy shades of blue and purple, a cold compress saving me from a mountain of swelling.
I was walking downstairs, not down the runway. I could look like a reheated turd. It didn’t matter.
I snuck out of my room at 6:30 AM after barely snagging two hours of sleep. I was dead-set on packing up my table and calling the rest of the convention a wash. At least I had one day of success, right?
