by Eden Connor
Chapter Two
Four weeks later, I opened my eyes and tried to identify the streaks of gold and blobs of blue on the edge of my pillow. I blinked. The fuzzy image resolved into intent eyes, covered by a shock of blond hair.
“Good morning.” Sculpted lips curved into a smile.
My heart lurched. Why am I with Colt?
Panic brought me fully awake. I struggled with the sheet, fighting to get free and run, but something pinned me. I blinked again. The cheekbones were less perfect than Colt’s. The blue irises fixed on my face were less vivid. My heart slowed from a gallop to a trot.
Robert. I lowered my eyes to the arm draped across my waist.
Okay, that’s why I can’t move. His large body had mine pressed against the wall. Sweat glued us together. I kicked, needing to get a foot free so I could breathe.
Chipper voices came from somewhere. Fucking college dorms. Who’s in the room? I managed to rise onto my elbow. A chubby bleached blonde smiled from the widescreen television, perched on a scarred desk on the far side of the small dorm room. At her side, a man in a suit flashed teeth that were a shade too perfect. The morning news anchors. I collapsed onto the pillow. Why can’t he sleep without the television on? Just one of many things Robert did that annoyed me.
“Good morning,” he rumbled.
Robert Kossel attended Wofford College, a private, co-ed institution about a mile or so from my school. Why had I stayed over? I couldn’t recall making that decision, so... alcohol. My fuzzy tongue supported the deduction. He swept a hand along my hip, tugging me against him.
“Goddamn, I love opening my eyes and seeing you. You’re all warm and your hair’s messy. Fucking gorgeous.”
I didn’t feel gorgeous. I felt like I might heave. “Have I missed class?” I groaned.
“For fuck’s sake, it’s Christmas break. You got drunk last night.” Disapproval rang in his tone.
That explains why we didn’t argue.
“Oh. Yeah.” Recalling taking my last exam a week ago, I relaxed against the pillow. Because I never went home for any holiday, Robert had hung around rather than cut out for Rock Hill after his last exam, so we could spend time together. But then I’d agreed to pick up a few shifts for Harry at the downtown Radisson bar where we both worked, and all Robert and I had done so far was fight.
Moving suddenly, he rolled me to my back and slid his knee between my thighs. The tender sensation in my sex when he spread my legs told me if my hazy recollection of another argument last night was correct, we must’ve gotten our make-up sex out of the way already. He rolled on top of me, sliding his erection along my bare belly. Propping his elbows alongside my ribs, he cupped my breasts and lowered his head.
I closed my eyes, willing to lose myself in the soft stroke of his tongue across my nipple, but the jittery panic refused to subside. He redoubled the motion of his tongue. All I felt was the need to take a deep breath. He licked and suckled each nipple in turn, then lifted his head and leaned close. His thumbs took over on my still-soft peaks. His lips on mine were a familiar sensation, but I turned my head.
“Morning breath. Suck my nipples.” And make me tell you what I want you to do to me. Say nasty things and force me to repeat them. Robert loved to fucking talk. He just didn’t talk when he was fucking.
As usual, he returned to the task without a word. The sensation was nice. I closed my eyes again. Maybe he’d get a little freaky, since the dorm was empty.
Think about the hard cock between my legs, not random bullshit.
He shifted his hips and his cock breeched my entrance.
Without warning, the room went black. Male shouts and jeers echoed inside my skull. I’d swear that a breeze raised goose bumps on the tops of my thighs. The sensation of heat seared the backs of my legs, even though I knew I lay on Ralph Lauren sheets. I slapped my palms against his shoulders. “Condom.”
He jerked his head up. “What? Shelby, we quit using condoms before Thanksgiving.”
Awkward. I realized where I’d gone in my head. It pissed me off because I never knew when those too-vivid memories of wild nights spent drag racing and fucking my stepbrothers would blindside me. Sometimes, it felt as though Colt and Caine shared every bed I ever crawled into. That made no sense, since they’d mostly fucked me on the hood of a car.
And don’t forget, then they took money to let their friends fuck me, too.
I hated those memories, but the recollection did what Robert rarely managed—it got me wet in record time. My nipples hardened, even though he’d gone still while he stared through slitted eyelids.
If I’d ever told Robert about my stepbrothers, he might not be scowling. But I never had. And I never would. Why the hell am I here?
I unglued my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “Sorry. Temporary blackout. Blame it on the booze.”
His chuckle was more a huff, but he returned his lips to my breast. His soft licks felt better now that the peak was rigid and throbbing, but not five seconds later, he shifted his hips. Colt and Caine were still in my head. I needed Robert to man up and do something besides just stick his cock inside me. I wanted him to drive my stepbrothers out of my mind, not benefit from my fucking emotional issues. Unfair, because he had no idea I had the damn problem, but still—this was bullshit.
Resentment rose, nearly choking me. “Did you give up foreplay for some religious reason I’m not aware of?”
His sigh was too loud and lasted a shade too long, but he wriggled lower. The sheet slid away, exposing my thighs. He made no eye contact, but warm breath wafted over my clit. He jerked his head up immediately.
“I love you, babe, but... damn, Shelby, I went down on you last night and I came inside you twice.”
So? If he’d ever do something that downright dirty, I’d let myself fall in love with him. But he was no different from any other guy I’d slept with since starting college. Too fucking conservative in the sack. The only thing these guys seemed to lose their heads over was college football.
He left his hand on my hip long enough to let me know he was thinking about forcing the issue. Torn between hoping he would and fearing he might, I didn’t move.
He grinned and crawled up my body. Flopping onto his side, he popped me on the hip. “Since the dorm’s almost empty, you can use the showers. I’ll be right here. You can wear my shirt.” He flashed his brows up and down. “I like the way you look in my shirts.”
But you don’t want to join me? Sex in the shower is against your religion, too?
I rose on elbow again and squinted at the time displayed on the cable box. Keyed up as I was, this could only go bad. I shouldn’t have come here last night.
“No time for that. I have a lot to do today.”
“Shelby, you don’t have to be anywhere till six p.m.. Baby, it’s eight o’clock in the morning.”
“Right.” I wanted to argue, but my brain wouldn’t engage.
I rolled to a sitting position. My head swam with the effort. Maybe I should just lie down and give him his missionary quickie.
Or maybe, if I asked, he’d shower with me, then pin me against the tile and fuck my brains out. I bent and snagged his shirt, but stared at the red pinstriped cotton, debating. I couldn’t handle it if he said something like, “Yeah, right. Do you know how many people slip and fall in the shower trying to have sex?”
His father sued people for a living. The Kossel Law Firm handled a lot of slip and fall cases. If I argued, he’d just hammer me with statistics. Or worse, give me some boring anecdote about a boring court case.
What the fuck am I doing? And why the hell do I keep doing it here? I dropped the shirt and snagged my jeans and slid them over my legs. “I had to put off a lot of errands until today because I was working.”
“Oh, yeah. I know all about you working.”
Well, fuck you, rich boy. I have more pride than to ask my daddy for an allowance. Sometimes, I hated the kids I knew from college. They were mostly a bunch of spoiled brat
s.
I had to stand to reach my sweatshirt. He sat up. I tensed for an argument. “Listen, Shelby. Dad wants to meet you.”
My heart lurched. Meet the family? Really?
“Don’t know what Mom’s got planned. This is the first Christmas in three years they haven’t gone on a cruise. She’s probably planned out every available minute, since they’re in the new house.” I scanned the room. “Seen my purse?”
“Beside the couch.”
I almost laughed. He wanted me to stay, but couldn’t resist showing off that he knew something I didn’t, no matter how minor.
I fastened my jeans and then yanked my sweatshirt over my head. Flopping onto the couch, I shoved my foot into the only shoe I could see. Craning my neck, I searched for the mate underneath the coffee table he used to roll joints.
What’s so painful about his life that he wants to be numb all the time?
“I thought we might get our parents together for dinner. How about on the 26th?”
Spying the little ballerina flat, I stretched my leg and hooked it with my toes. “Why? So your dad can make fun of the way my stepfather talks?” Wiggling my foot into the worn leather shoe, I leaned over the arm of the plaid couch that stank of marijuana, grabbing my handbag with a rising sense of panic.
“Shelby, they’re going to meet eventually. We might as well be proactive. Besides, if we don’t find a time to hook up while you’re in Concord, we won’t see each other until after New Years’.”
And that’s a problem... why?
“This is about that stupid You Tube channel you do, isn’t it?” Petulance tinged his tone.
You mean the stupid You Tube channel that puts cash in my checking account so I have time to spend with you?
“No, I told you what I was doing today.” I curled my nails into my palm. I didn’t have time for his jealous bullshit. He could be such a child if he didn’t get his way.
Something onscreen came to my rescue. “Hey, that car’s like mine.” I grabbed the remote and turned up the volume, drowning out Robert’s groan. He hated my car. He hated my hobbies. I couldn’t figure out what he did like about me. Except the sex. I hated thinking that he was with me because my petite size made him feel better about his less-than-average cock, because that was another drop of poison Colt had buried in my mind.
In a too-bright voice, the female news anchor announced, “And a record-setting price last night for an old car.”
The male anchor took over in a tone I found patronizing. “Not just any old car, Anne. A 1971 Plymouth Barracuda convertible. One of only eleven manufactured that year, this fully restored beauty brought four point two million dollars at the famous Bailey and Barnes auction barn in Reno, Nevada last night. The new owner says he’ll have the car transported to—”
“Wow.” I hit the mute button. “Four million dollars?” I darted a look to see if the large figure impressed Robert. He hadn’t bothered with the sheet, maybe because it was in a tangled heap on the floor. He still scowled, so I studied his body. His cock was erect, but going soft. It nestled in a thatch of dark gold hair. He wasn’t fat, but he wasn’t ripped like my stepbrothers.
The involuntary comparison pissed me off. Besides, I hadn’t laid eyes on Colt in years. He probably had a beer gut and a baby on the way.
I blinked away the momentary vision of Caine pleasuring Colt’s faceless bimbo. Damn you, Mom. She’d been on the phone every other day, excited over all the stuff she was buying for the new house. Had to be why I couldn’t stop thinking about Colt and Caine.
Then, the fog in my brain parted.
The Ridenhour Christmas party’s tonight.
“Shelby.”
I longed to run, but Robert’s tone forced me to look at him.
“What, Robert? What?” Despite my best efforts to stay calm, the words came out as a shriek. In the ominous silence that followed my outburst, I jumped up.
“Shelby, you could at least take me along to that party tonight. I checked Google maps. That place is only a half hour drive from my dad’s.”
So you can ridicule my stepfather and his friends at your next frat party? Or so I can be drawn in an even bigger knot, waiting to see how Colt and Caine tease me about you? Or, God forbid, they mess with that BMW you love so much.
I pictured my stepbrothers taking the car apart and reassembling it on top of the building, because that seemed like their idea of a good time.
“I had to RSVP weeks ago. Besides, I’m only going to be there long enough to give a five-minute speech and watch Dale get his twenty-five-year service award.” Not interested in hanging around to watch Redneck Nation celebrate Christmas.
Colt and Caine had bought Dale’s house, but I’d be staying with Mom and Dale in the new house. That arrangement had led me to agree to stay in Concord from tonight until Christmas Day. Three entire days, when I hadn’t set foot in the small town for four years.
“Then I really don’t understand why you can’t meet me, Dad, and his girlfriend for dinner somewhere in Charlotte as soon as you finish.”
Because I have enough to worry about, dammit.
Why would Robert want to go to a party with a bunch of NASCAR people? He couldn’t even drive a stick.
“I told you, Mom will cry if I don’t go straight home with them afterward. Maybe we can do something before New Years’. I’m coming back here Christmas Day, but I’ll drive up to Rock Hill to meet you between then and New Years’ Eve.”
“You’ll just turn around and either say you can’t afford the gas or you’re working.” His tone was flat. Tension coiled in my stomach.
Fuck it. We’ve done our quarter mile sprint. The only way I can win is to walk away.
“Not all of us have rich daddies. Tell you what. Maybe I can hook you and my roommate up. I know for a fact, she’s looking for a future lawyer or banker. She only came here to get her MRS. degree.” The term was sarcastic, but he knew what I meant. A shocking number of women I went to school with were only attending college to find a husband with ‘potential’.
Hitching the leather strap of my purse over my head, I stepped over discarded clothing and empty pizza boxes.
“Shelby.” I made it to the door, but stared at the birch plywood, sliding damp palms along the side of my pants.
“What?” My headache tripled. I dug to the bottom of my handbag, searching for my car keys.
“Do you remember me telling you last night that I got an early acceptance to law school?”
That explains the hangover. “Vaguely.”
He snorted. His feet hit the floor, sounding like gunshots on the hard tile. I tensed as he made his way across the room. Reaching past my shoulder, he slammed a hand against the door.
“Why do I let you drink tequila? It’s too damn strong for your body weight or something. Makes you weird. I want you to take another look at this. It’ll take one minute out of your busy day.” His sarcastic tone made me cringe. A dull throb flared at the base of my skull, adding a thumping bass line to the soprano aria of pain shrieking behind my eyeballs.
He shoved a crumpled piece of printer paper in front of my face. I pulled back to give my eyes room to focus. “Assistant to the Administrator, Department of Public Works.” I dragged my tongue across cracked lips. “What’s this?”
“A job. In Columbia. With great benefits.”
South Carolina’s only law school was in Columbia, the state capitol.
“You plan to work and go to law school?” Maybe I’d misjudged him.
“Not for me, dumbass. For you.” Exasperation dripped from his tone. I was the dumbass? Yes, he must think so, if he thought I’d be thrilled to take some job logging potholes and broken water mains while he studied law. Why was I supposed to settle for a mind-numbing job while he—
The cobwebs cleared. Snatches of the night before played in my mind. Robert, telling me about law school. Me, saying essentially, good-bye. Him telling me about the idiotic job he thought I should take so we could stay to
gether, when I had no idea why we were together in the first place. Our modus operandi was to break up, and then have makeup sex, only to break up again.
“I don’t know anything about the Department of Public Works.” Except that, it sounded like a good place to go insane from boredom.
He nuzzled my neck. I stiffened. “We already had this talk. That’s the great thing about a liberal arts degree. You can do anything. All you have to do is contact this dude and send him your resume. This is a done deal. The director is one of my brother-in-law’s golfing buddies. So, if you take the job, you can move in with my sister for the summer. Then, we’ll get an apartment together in September.”
So, it was a done deal, was it? He’d just used his family connections to find me some half-assed job? A place I could kill time and draw a paycheck while I waited for him to get his law degree and make me a country club wife? Or did he think I’d handle all the bills while he blew his allowance on dope?
He didn’t know me at all. He couldn’t fucking see past the fact that I liked my sex rough. He’d never treated a woman that way before, so I made him feel like a man. Whenever I pissed him off enough to be rough with me.
Which is why we argue so much. How had I never seen that before?
I felt ugly. Not just because of my messy hair or the need to brush my teeth. I felt ugly on the inside, because of the needs—the twisted, perverted desires—Colt and Caine had instilled in me. How could I ever rid myself of that? How would embarrassing my stepbrothers, or even having them thrown in jail, fix me?
“No. Hang on, dammit.” He spun snatching his boxers off the floor. While he shoved his legs through the holes and yanked them over his hips, I wrenched the doorknob.
“Gotta go.”
“Shelby, just give me one minute, then turn around.”
I wanted to run, but knew if I did, I’d throw up, so I did as he asked. Judging from the noises he made, I thought he opened a drawer. Maybe getting a shirt? I suppressed a sigh. He might be trying to apologize by walking me to my car. That possibility only made me feel worse. I owed him the apology, or at least an explanation. How would that go? See, I need you to invite your friends in to fuck me. The more the merrier. Just a little gang bang every now and then.
