He caressed the delicate skin between her thighs, making her
sigh in
frustration.“You’re mine,” he growled. Her
skin felt like fine
satin as his fingers found their way to her core.
Before she could ask, he…
Before she could ask, he…
“Have you not moved since I left?” Rory asked, throwing the groceries on the
counter of our new apartment. She leaned
on the black countertop, glaring at me like a scolding mother hen. I rolled my eyes, tossing my tablet to the
other end of the couch.
“I was at seventy percent when you left. You know what that means.”
“The climax,” we both answered together. Rory’s annoyed with me again. It comes in spurts. Sometimes she ignores my little
obsession. Days like today are the
worst. She’s planning her next attack,
pushing me toward “living life to the fullest”.
It’s crap. I like my little
bubble. There’s no chaos here. It’s structured and I know what’s coming.
“You’ve gotta get out.
This isn’t healthy,” Rory finished, throwing the cold stuff in our new
fridge.
I scoffed.
Sometimes there’s a twinge of excitement when I think about going out on
the town, but I can usually calm it down with a new book. Too much uncertainty exists with Rory’s
lifestyle. I like rules, structure. How can you have those things with
nightclubs, bars, wherever the hell Rory goes to pick up the flavor of the
week?
“I’ve got work in the morning,” I answered. That’ll
keep her quiet.
“Bullshit.”
Damn it. She finished with the groceries, leaning over
on the now empty counter. Her eyes
appraised me, searching for something.
“Get dressed. You’re coming with
me.”
“Fat chance.
I’ve got nine percent left.”
“What the hell could happen in nine percent, Lucy? You think somebody’s gonna die or
something?”
“Doubtful, but what if it ends on a cliffhanger? I’d have to at least read the first chapter
of the next one to see how it works out.
Just count me out.”
Rory stormed around the counter, coming to stand in
front of me with her hands on her hips.
“Get your ass up. I’m taking you
out if I have to drug you to do it.”
An hour later and Rory had me dressed, sporting enough
makeup to make RuPaul proud. I yanked at
the little red number she’d squeezed my wide hips into and wobbled on the three
inch heels. I wonder what the characters in my book are doing right now. Probably finishing what they’d started,
without me.
“Leave your phone here. I’m enforcing a no reading rule for the
night. Let’s go, you little slut,” Rory
teased, pulling me through the apartment and out the door. She stopped next door, apartment 3B.
“What are you doing?”
“I met this sexpot last week while you were stuck in
some book, refusing to live in the real world.”
My thoughts went to last week and the two books I had
time to read around my work schedule. Ugh!
All the feels! I read the best MMA romance. The main man was so yummy masculine, all
strong jaw bone and bulging muscles. He
fell in love with his best friend’s sister and she changed him into a lover,
not a fighter. Swoon! And the sex…
The door swung to.
Rory was right. I didn’t even
know what a sexpot was, but I knew I was looking at one. A gorgeous guy, dressed in a tight fitted
black t-shirt stood in the doorway. He
looked back into his apartment, searching for something. Finding it, he ran back to the table, grabbed
a wallet, and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans, so dark they were
almost black. He turned back to us
before I could stop myself from gaping at his ass. His distraction with my sister saved me.
“Is he coming
with us?” I whispered to Rory.
Before she could answer,
Hunky-Stranger-from-apartment-3B threw an arm around each of us. He was tall, making it easy to drape his arms
over our shoulders. I knew, more from
research than actually experience, the positive reactions to men. You either get a twinge in your stomach or a
tightening of the chest, not to mention the action in the nether regions. Right now, I had all three.
Rory’s built for things like this. Mom and Dad gave her all the social prowess,
leaving me with an awkward gate, braces for three years to fix an extreme
overbite, and the book smarts to make up for it in some aspects of my life. Rory has the common sense, and I have the
education.
I struggled between thinking of my shortfalls and
ignoring the feeling of his soft shirt against my bare shoulders, stumbling on
my own feet when Mr. Romance-come-to-life abandoned me to push the button for
the elevator. I fell without a hint of
grace. I stayed knelt on my knees,
laughing genuinely at my ineptness.
“Are you all right?”
He asked. He stood over me like
he’d never been in a situation like this before and didn't know what to
do. His eyes held concern. Wait.
Maybe more pity than concern.
I've never been good at reading people.
Rory came behind me, pulling me up from my underarms
since I seemed incapable of getting up on my own. “Jesus, Lucy,” she scolded. “She doesn't get out much.”
My knees burned from the industrial carpet, and so did
my pride. “On that note, I’m going
back.”
I turned to hobble back to the apartment before Rory
grabbed my arm, “Oh no you don’t, you little shit. You’re coming and that’s all there is to
it. You’re not gonna waste another weekend
to fictitious people.” I looked up at
our acquaintance, hoping he had the decency to be looking away. He did not.
His lips were in what looked like a perpetual pucker. Not much, just a little curve to the top lip
that made me want to lick it.
“I hate you,” I shot at Rory, not meaning it, before
she linked back up with our new neighbor.
They walked in to the elevator, the perfectly groomed couple. I stood on the outside, carpet burned knees
and alone. Awesome.
I took the step, committing to what was sure to be the
worst night of my life.
Chapter 2
“Tyler,” he said, offering me his hand.
“Lucy, Rory’s sister by blood,” I retorted. He smiled a crooked smile, eyes half-lidded
like he knew some secret and laughed at me.
“I know, no family resemblance.
It’s worse the more you get to know us.”
We left the elevator, walking through the garage
attached to the side of the apartment building.
Rory lead the way to her car. She
wouldn't let us take anything else; the Viper took precedence over anything in
her life. That included relationships,
the one with her sister not immune.
Rory worked her ass off to get that car,
literally. She’s made a name for herself
by “transforming the mommy bod”. It
started with a job as a trainer at a local gym and grew into this
franchise. Sure she’d never been a mom
herself, but that didn't stop these women from flocking to her. She had a way with them, women that couldn't lose
the baby weight or had never been skinny.
Thinking of her screaming at the top of her lungs to “stop eating shit”
makes me cringe. Rory’s an asshole, but
I love her anyway and it apparently works.
Her social media pages are jobs in themselves and I practically crap
myself anytime someone recognizes her in public.
That recognition and an online workout program is what
bought us the awesome digs, that and the car.
I hate the car. She drives too
fast, swears that it’s the Viper’s spirit, not her. “If you’d ever step out of your safety sphere
enough to drive it, you’d understand,” she goads. Never
gonna happen. I've started riding a
bike to work every day now that we live close enough. I used to bum rides with Rory, or
coworkers. Riding the bike is
better. I don’t have to deal with other
people’s inconsistencies, like running late.
There’s a lot more predictability when I only rely on myself.
I squeezed into the lime green speed wagon. My scraped knees shoved up by my nose in the
non-existent back seat. “Wanna sit in
the front?” Tyler asked. My eyes rolled into the top of my head. We couldn't fit him in this backseat if we
chopped him to pieces first.
“Let’s go,” I mumbled, resigned to my fate.
I tuned Tyler and Rory out as we drove, thinking about
the book I left at home. I imagined how
the character’s life would turn out, what their beautiful little babies would
look like. I bet their wedding would be
perfect, on the beach of course with only their best friends and parents
present. She’d be breathtaking and when
she made it to the end of the isle, he’d whisper some memory of their
struggling past to her. She’d smile and
say something quirky before they recited vows that they’d written
themselves. I’d swoon and maybe cry a
little, then go to sleep to dream of perfect love and better sex.
“Lucy?” Tyler’s
voice infiltrated my daydreams.
“I’m sorry, I wasn't paying attention.”
“No shit,” Rory laughed at me, barely glancing at the
road.
“What kind of work do you do?” He asked for what I assumed was the second
time.
"I work with numbers for a little accounting
firm, Louis and Delong. We do the
smaller accounts that the Big Four miss.”
I knew he had no clue what I was talking about. “Just think of the people that probably work
for your Dad to handle his finances.”
Tyler looked over his shoulder, giving me the smirk again with those
pouty lips. Our faces were close. I had no room to retreat in the back
seat. He laughed at my reaction, his
minty breath brushing across my cheek.
My stomach flipped and chest tightened again, then a shiver passed over
my skin. It was the best feeling in the
world.
Rory took his attention again, talking about her plans
to design some new workout clothes and expand her image. Her hands flew around the front of the car as
she spoke, excited that plans were coming together. Tyler watched her, entranced. They
look good together; maybe she won’t pass this one up.
We pulled up at Ember, a new club that Rory had
interrupting my reading to talk about for two weeks now. She and Tyler got out, both standing
confidently at their doors. A kid raced
to the driver door, eyes big and excitement radiating out of his pores. Tyler pulled his seat forward, holding a hand
out to help me untangle myself from the back.
I struggled, flashing my panties to everyone standing in line by the door. I grasped onto his hand to catch myself
before falling on my face at the curb.
“Thanks,” I mumbled after pulling myself
together. He answered with a laugh,
leading us each with a hand on our lower backs into the building. The bass pumped from the speakers hanging
from the ceiling. Lights flashed across
our skin, illuminating the otherwise pitch black room. I could smell sweat mixed with an exorbitant
amount of perfume and cologne. The
combination made me feel uncomfortable and a little sick to my stomach. I couldn't see two feet in front of me,
couldn't hear, and knew I’d have to scream to communicate. Rory on the other hand, swayed her hips to
the music, walking straight to the bar to flirt with the guy tending it.
I stayed a step behind, Tyler’s hand still guiding me
like a big brother would. Rory came back
with three drinks, sitting them down on the only free table in the place, right
in the middle of the room. The tables
were low, but so were the round seats. I
stared longingly at the taller tables on the outskirts. Giving up, I struggled to get myself down without
flashing my goodies again.
“So,” Tyler yelled over the music, “Your sister tells
me that you’re an avid reader.”
I flushed, shooting a murderous glare at Rory. “Did she, now?” The smile on his face verified that she’d
filled him in on my taste in literature.
She rolled her eyes, facing back to the writhing
bodies in front of us. “Wanna dance,
Tyler?” Without a word he stood, leading
her into the middle of the dance floor.
My stomach knotted further, watching them sway, ass in crotch and hands
exploring parts of one another that I barely explored on myself. A large portion of the room watched them,
enthralled with the sensuality.
I absently searched for my phone before remembering
that I didn't bring it. Another song
came on. A group of people crowded
around Rory and Tyler, all equally as frisky and uninhibited. It looked like a good way to catch
something.
No one approached me, my sister and new neighbor
danced, and I felt so lonely it was physically painful. I finally got pissed off enough to get a pen
from the bartender, scribble a note on a napkin about catching a cab home, left
it on the table, and got out of there.
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