by Finn, Emilia
I guess my revenge was stealing her back. But now it’s done, and I don’t feel like I’d enjoy revenge fucking anymore.
In fact, I don’t think I’d enjoy any sex anymore, because I know I’ll be thinking of Abigail.
I finally break away from the doorjamb and take her elbow in my hand. I’m very gentle, because she’s much smaller than me, and her arm is delicate. But I turn her around and take her back to the car. There’s no need to drag this shit out.
I swing the door open and help her in. When she reaches for me and pulls my collar down, I let her press a kiss to my cheek. She stares into my eyes for a long minute where I worry she might kiss me for real, but then she nods, releases me, and closes the door.
I hurt her feelings. But I did it as gently as I know how. No one has to know I sent her away but us.
I watch her back out of the space she parked in, perform a U-turn that disturbs the dust beneath the gravel, then she drives away and gives me nothing more than the sight of her taillights as she rounds the bend and heads toward the road.
“Could’ve been worse,” I grumble.
I turn on my heel and head back toward the door, but a second alert buzzes my watch.
I could ignore it and assume it’s just Ashley. I could run inside and lock myself away, in case she’s changed her mind and decided she isn’t done just because I am. But something makes me look up. Something brings my nose into the air. And when I turn, I grin when a whole new car slowly pulls in, and the waning sunlight flashes through her back window and beautiful red hair.
Shiiiiit. I shouldn’t be this happy about a chick visiting me.
I walk forward as she parks her small car in the exact spot Ashley just left. It feels a little odd, a little dirty that she parks there and doesn’t know who was there a moment ago. Like maybe I should tell her. But the anxiety in her eyes as she pushes the car into park and switches the engine off slows me down.
I don’t want to add to her anxiety.
Her hair is down today, left loose so a few natural waves give it texture and make it almost look alight. I continue walking when she sits in her car a minute too long and stares. It takes everything in her to come to me, I know it does. It takes bravery, and a hefty dose of belief that she can trust me not to hurt her. But I can’t come to her home again. I can’t knock on her door and have her regret letting me in the next day.
For her to come here means she made the decision on her own. It means she drove all this way knowing where she was going and what would probably happen if she crossed those tracks that separate my place from the rest of town.
I need her to make these decisions for us both, and I need her not to regret it tomorrow.
I stop by her door and silently pull it open so the only thing I hear are the birds singing in the trees, the squeak of the door on the hinges, and her labored breathing, because she’s going to have a panic attack soon.
“Miss Priss.”
She turns to me with a sheet-white face. “Spencer.”
“Hey. You okay?”
She gently shakes her head and clutches the steering wheel so tight, her knuckles turn white. “Who was that woman?”
I look up, though I know ‘that woman’ is already gone. “Hmm?”
“The woman that pulled out of your driveway when I pulled in. She had really pretty hair and big breasts. What’s her name?”
I swallow my nerves, and study her profile when she turns to face my place. “Her name is Ashley Bates.”
“Okay…” Blowing out a deep breath, she nods and brings her hand down again to switch on the ignition. “Thank you for telling me. But I have to go now.”
“No.” I jump forward and catch her hand before she turns the keys. I crouch down beside her, which makes us eye-to-eye and on the same level, and use my left hand to draw her face around. “Don’t leave, Abigail. I’ve waited so long for you to come back.”
“I can’t compete with that, Spencer.” She pulls her hand from mine and jerks a thumb over her shoulder. “I don’t want to compete with that, because it would send me insane. Every time you gave me your cheesy lines, I’d wonder if you meant it for her.”
“Cheesy lines?” I narrow my eyes. “I don’t do cheese, Abigail.”
“You called me beautiful! And now I know what she looks like, so every time I think of you and smile, I’ll compare myself to her, and know you meant it as a joke.”
My eyes widen when I realize she’s completely serious. “A joke? You think this is a fucking joke to me?”
“Obviously! And it annoys me that I thought for two seconds that I could stack up. I don’t have the breasts. I don’t have the hair. I didn’t see her butt, but I bet it’s amazing.”
“If you think you’re so fucking inferior to her, then why did I just send her away?”
“I don’t know! Because you finished having sex already?”
She’s being irrational, and it’s both adorable and horrible.
“I did not know you were coming here today. I’ve been asking for a week, but every day, your answer was no, so I had no clue today would be different. But when she turned up here, I sent her away anyway. That’s not an act. That’s not me trying to impress you. I had no fucking clue you were coming! Yes, Ashley and I have had sex in the past–”
“Oh god.” She turns away and squeezes her eyes shut. “Don’t say that.”
“It hurts you to know that I was with her. That means something, Abigail. It means you care about me. I can’t change what I did in my past. I did what I did. But she turned up here just now with tight jeans that hug her ass. Tits hanging out, panties practically already peeled away. It would have been easy, string-free, guilt-free, pressure-free sex, and we wouldn’t have had to tell a soul because you and I aren’t together. But I sent her away anyway, because I can only see you. You wanna compete? Then let’s compete, but you ain’t gonna lose. She offered sex, but I saw you. She would have given me anything I wanted. I still saw you! She has blonde hair, big fuckin’ deal. Yours looks like fire, and I’ll be fucked if I don’t see it every time I close my eyes. You’re terrified to give up your innocence, and that’s okay. I respect your choices, but before you, I didn’t respect shit. As far as I’m concerned, there are absolutely no promises of me ever being with you that way, but I still sent her away!”
I lean in closer and take hold of her jeaned knee. “I’d rather spend the night texting you and ignoring the ache in my balls, than an hour with her, feeling like I sold my soul for a single orgasm.”
“Spencer…”
“If I wanna come, I’ll use my hand. If there’s any chance at all you wanna spend more time with me, I’ll use my hand and only tease you a little bit.”
“Spencer, stop…”
“I get that you’re scared of this. I get it’s a huge fucking deal for you. But it’s a huge deal for me too. I don’t do…” I jab a hand between us and bite off my words. “I don’t do this. I don’t do nice girls and non-cussing.”
“You still cuss.”
“I know! But I’m trying really fucking hard not to. I don’t do virgins, I don’t do the waiting. I’m an instant gratification kinda guy. I’m not trying to sound like a prick, but I have a fucking smorgasbord of options, but I can’t stop seeing you. There’s no competition! There’s just you standing in my fucking way. You’re trying to move, but I keep putting you back.”
“This speech doesn’t inspire confidence.” She rolls her forehead along the steering wheel and groans. “I was only thinking about the one woman, but knowing you have a buffet…”
“I don’t want them, Priss. That’s just the thing. The option is there, it will always be there, but I want you. Even if that means no sex.”
“No sex ever?” She turns to me, though her head remains attached to the steering wheel. “Never again for the rest of your life?”
“I mean…” My heart stutters and stops. “I would hope that eventually you might trust me to try more.”
&nbs
p; “But is it a deal-breaker? If I said there’s no chance, not one single chance for the rest of our lives?” Her eyes bore into mine. “Could you really live with that? You wouldn’t eventually get over this taboo thing you’re feeling simply because I said no, and go back to your buffet?”
I pull in a long breath and consider her words. “I think maybe you’re asking too much. You’re asking me to look too far into the future.”
My words hurt her, which brings the shutters down over her eyes. “You can’t do it.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that… well…” I bring a hand up to scratch the back of my neck. “I’m saying that when a man and a woman hook up for fun, they do their thing and go. But when that same man, who’s so used to easy and convenient, and who has never known commitment, is asked about commitment, he doesn’t know how to answer. I’m saying that I’ve never looked at a woman and thought she’d be cool to keep around for more than a night. Jay and Kane and the other guys, they didn’t know that life either, but the right girl came along for them, and shit changed. I’m saying that my shit is changing, but I’m choosing not to give you promises I have no clue about. I’m saying I would rather hang out with you tonight and not have sex, than hang out with her and ruin whatever thin scrap of hope you and I might have had. I don’t know what it means, Priss. Fuck knows I don’t need a high-maintenance princess stinking up my space, but it would seem I’d like to try.”
“I’m not high-maintenance,” she whispers. “Saying no isn’t high-maintenance. It’s creating boundaries.”
“I respect your boundaries. I don’t need a fast fuck to be happy anymore, but it would make me happy if you got out of that damn car and stopped looking at me like you just caught me fucking her on the kitchen table. I did what may have been the first honorable thing in my time as a legal adult; I sent her away, and I told you the truth. Don’t punish me for that when we both know you came here just now to see me. You made the choice to get in your car, you drove all the way out here. You were brave enough to come to me, so don’t waste that and leave now when I was honorable.”
Silence hangs between us for the longest minute of my life while she leans against the steering wheel and stares at nothing.
I’ve never wanted to keep anyone around for longer than it takes to come, but now I’m asking her in and forfeiting sex for what may be the rest of my life. It hurts to think she’s considered never giving all of herself to me. But the thought of her walking away hurts more.
A couple weeks ago, at Jess and Kane’s wedding, that first time I censored myself and tried to slow my cussing for her; that was the first sign she wielded more power than I was willing to admit. But right here in this driveway; the lock clicks over and the revolution ends. She’s got me good, because now I’m censoring my sex drive too.
“Come inside with me, Abigail. No sex. No pressure. We can get a meal or something, and I’ll… I dunno. Jerk off in the shower or something. You can watch if you want to.”
She gives an inelegant snort and turns to me with a magnetic smile. “What am I gonna do with you, Spencer?”
“You’re gonna hang out with me.” I reach out, and push up from my crouch with a grunt. When she doesn’t release the steering wheel, I slide my hand along her thin wrist and pry her fingers free. “Come on.” I help her out and lift a brow at the bag I see on her backseat.
She came with an overnight bag, and I can’t decide if that freaks me out or makes me yearn for her to grab it. The one time a chick brought an overnight bag, I helped her back into her car and sent her home, because I wasn’t into commitments that would last more than an hour. But now I pray this woman will reach back and grab it. I want her to stay. I want her to want more.
Once she’s clear of the door, I close it with a soft snick, and though my heart breaks a little when she leaves the bag behind, it restarts again when she steps into my side and wraps her arms around my hips while we walk.
I can’t say I’ve ever done this before, either.
It’s been so long since I held her, I kinda forgot how small she is. Her head rests against my pecs. Her hipbone against my thigh. Her arms struggle to wrap all the way around me, but I can’t say I don’t enjoy the way she folds herself into my body and draws in a long breath as though she needs me almost as much as I need her.
Fuck me, I’m dead.
“I missed you this week.”
I feel her smile as we head through my front door and turn back to lock up. I don’t usually close up until I’m ready for bed, but I lock up now because I don’t particularly want to deal with drop-ins that might scare her away when I’ve finally gotten her back.
“I missed you too,” she admits on a sigh. “I was trying to ignore you.”
I chuckle and tighten my hold around her torso as I flip the lights off and move through the doorway that leads to my home. “Guess you couldn’t stay away, huh? It’s okay,” I press a kiss to the top of her head and breathe her in. “I was gonna come get you soon.”
“You were?”
I swing my door closed and lock it. “Uh-huh. I’ve been keeping busy with work and stuff, but you were pushing my limits, Priss. A man can only stay away for so long before he turns mad. I was hitting my limits.”
“Spencer?”
We stop in front of my couch. I was going to push her down to sit and probably build a pillow wall between us so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch her. I mean, I still would have touched her, but the pillows might have helped for a minute. Instead, we stop so our toes touch and her hands remain on my hips as she looks up into my eyes.
“Can I ask you something? And you have to promise to tell the truth.”
“Ugh,” I grunt. “Probably means I’m gonna get in trouble.”
She gives a small exhale of air in lieu of a laugh. But when I reach up and tuck strands of red hair behind her ear, she closes her eyes and sighs.
“Ask your question, Priss. I promise to answer truthfully.”
Her eyes remain closed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She’s shielding herself from whatever my answer will be.
“Did you spend time with any woman since last weekend? At all.”
“Sex? Did I hook up with anyone?”
She squeezes her eyes closed and nods.
“No, Priss. Not one single person.” When her eyes flutter open and find mine, I smile. “I haven’t hooked up with any woman since I met you. Not once since Jessie went in for her flowers, and I met this high-maintenance princess with high-waisted jeans and not enough color in her cheeks.”
Her eyes flicker between mine. “Really?”
“I swear. You made an impression on me, and now I can’t seem to shake you. But you should know I bought flowers for Jess, Laine, and Soph.”
She snickers. “Roy told me. He said you asked where I was.”
“Where were you? I dropped a fortune in your shop, and risked my friends’ wrath by buying their girls flowers, and it was all for nothing, since you weren’t even there.”
“I was busy.” She wrinkles her nose. “Visiting with a friend for a few hours.”
I narrow my eyes, though it’s only in jest. “Not a dude, right? You were visiting a female friend?”
“A female.” She nods. “Her name is Marcie. She’s cool.”
“Okay.” Daringly, since I’m not sure where we are right now, I cup Abigail’s face and press a kiss to her lips. She stares at me in shock, but I don’t really care. I’m gonna kiss her. I’m gonna hold her close and let her know she’s wanted. The rest is up to her. “Dinner?”
21
Spence
Chinese takeout was nixed by my high-maintenance priss. Pizza only received an unenthusiastic ‘Meh’, and the MREs that I keep on hand were straight up dismissed with a threat of her never returning again if I made the same offer twice. So what did we do? We cooked together.
We washed and cut vegetables. We marinated steak. We boiled potatoes and mashed the shit out o
f them until the butter oozed, and Abigail’s infectious laugh fucked me up inside.
For the first time in my life, I’m eating dinner with candlelight and soft music playing in the background. And surprisingly, I don’t hate it. Better yet, I enjoy it so much, my face aches from smiling.
Miss Priss has a sense of humor, once you scratch beneath the surface and she stops trying to push you away.
She wears jeans again tonight, and a coral top with sleeves that only go to her elbows. It’s funny how Ashley can wear spaghetti straps and have her tits hanging out, and I react much the same way Abigail did to the thought of pizza, but put Priss in a cute top that shows no curves and only a little forearm and throat, and my body does strange things.
It almost feels like eighteenth century England; show us ya ankle, miss!
She stops chewing her lip when she relaxes, which is both a pleasure and a pain. I love seeing her nibble that fucker, because it sends my mind into a thousand different directions, though they all end in my cock. But knowing she’s relaxing also feels good.
We eat our food, I experience my first real date, and Abigail enjoys herself so much, I bear witness to my first ever throw-her-head-back, belly-bouncing, hyena-laugh when I tell her about some of the stupid shit my friends and I have done over the years.
I don’t mention girls, and I keep the topics mostly legal.
Abigail tells me about her brothers, and how despite every shitty encounter I’ve had with them so far, we would actually get along if everyone stopped with the ‘Alpha crap’.
Her words.
My priss says ‘crap,’ and it’s almost as sexy as if she just came out and said that other C-word.
The universe smiles down on us, because for the two hours from when we peel the first vegetable until now, my security remains untouched. No one comes onto my property. No one calls me. No one even goes on the properties of those homes I’ve set up security for – I wonder what Abigail would say about her brother and her assistant? – so I get to tune into the red-haired beauty, and help her become more comfortable in my presence.
