Sugar on the Edge

Page 13

  “I want you to…”

  “Tell me,” he demanded harshly.

  “Touch me,” she said in a frustrated rush.

  “Where?”

  Honey’s eyes darkened and the pulse in her neck was leaping. “Between my legs. ”

  “Not good enough,” he sneered. “Dirtier. If you want it, make it f**king filthy for me. ”

  Honey gnashed her teeth, and her eyes sparked with determination. She leaned in close to Max, putting her lips just a hair’s breath away from his, and snarled, “I want you to touch my pu**y, Max. I want you to finger f**k my pu**y. ”

  Max chuckled as he brought his hand between her legs, stroking the damp cotton of her panties. “Good girl. I’m going to hit you hard with my fingers, then I’m going to bend you over and f**k you hard from behind. ”

  Yes! I yell out in victory inside my own head as I type out those last few words. That is f**king perfect. Exactly the way it should be.

  Pushing back in my chair, I let the elation of a well-written scene course through me as I stare at the computer screen. It’s how it should be. Well… it’s how it should have been the other night. How I wanted it to turn out. How I wanted Savannah to demand me to pleasure her.

  But f**k if that happened.

  The thrill of the great scene wanes as I realize I’m not keeping Honey true to my muse. I’m making her into something I want Savannah to be, and it’s sick, sick, sick. It’s sick, because I’ve decided I want Savannah badly even though she represents so much of what I don’t like in a woman, so I’m trying to plump her up into something she’s not… in a f**king work of fiction.

  I’m quite possibly the world’s biggest wanker.

  I hear the faint click of the front door closing and know that Savannah has arrived. My pulse leaps with the knowledge, and I push out of my chair.

  As I hit the bottom landing that abuts the kitchen, I see her laying her purse and keys on my counter. She darts her eyes at me, and then turns to lift her bucket of supplies up. “Good morning,” she says softly.

  I stare at her, my mouth unable to form any words, because I’m not the type to exchange pleasantries. What I really want to do is crowd in to her, push her back against the refrigerator, and get all up in her space, so we can maybe go back to that intimate interlude that got destroyed by her skittishness. But in the bright light of day, that doesn’t seem plausible. She’s not coming out of a deep sleep, with a foggy brain and sluggish reactions. No, she’s standing there, seeing me with clear eyes and probably a jaundiced mind.

  So, I don’t say anything, and I just walk to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water. I do, however, walk between her and the back counter, taking care to walk close enough by her that my arm brushes against hers. I can see her actually push herself into the counter to give me space, and that doesn’t set well with me. Normally, just knowing that I was affecting her that way would give me a rush, but it’s not what I had intended to occur. I want her to step in closer to me, not shy away.

  “Do you want me to vacuum right now?”

  “You can do it whenever,” I tell her as I twist the cap off the water bottle. “It’s fairly warm out today… I think I’ll write on the back deck. ”

  “Okay,” is all she says as she starts loading the dishwasher with the huge pile of plates and silverware I’ve accumulated.

  I wait for her to say something more but she doesn’t, soundly ignoring me as I stand there. I don’t like it, and I don’t know what to do about it because I suck at normal conversation. When it’s clear that she’s not going to give me the time of day, I give a silent sigh and head back toward the stairs to grab my laptop.

  Just as I hit the bottom step, I’m struck with inspiration and turn toward her. “I’d like to hire you for the full day tomorrow. ”

  Savannah jumps in surprise and turns to face me. “I’m sorry… I can’t. I have two houses plus a photo shoot to attend. ”

  “Cancel them,” I tell her. “I’ll pay you more than whatever they’re paying you. ”

  She huffs at my demand and turns back to the dishwasher. “Sorry, Gavin, but I can’t cancel. That would be unprofessional. ”

  “Who cares?” I throw out. “I’m paying you more than they would. ”

  “And, I’d probably lose those jobs for good, so that’s still not going to work for me,” she says with exasperation as she closes the dishwasher.

  “Then I’ll hire you full time,” I say… maybe a tad too desperately.

  She turns back to me with a bit of a softer look. “Um… no thanks. But what is it you needed me for tomorrow? Can it wait until Thursday as I can swing it that day?”

  My brain fuzzes for a minute, because I have no clue why I’m hiring her. I don’t need a damn thing.

  Think, Cooke. Think.

  Finally, I blurt out, “I need to go to Raleigh to pick up a car I’m buying. I want you to drive me so I can work the entire time. ”

  F-u-u-u-ck.

  Looks like I’m buying a damn car so I can spend a few hours with this woman.

  “Seriously?” she asks. “Why can’t you just buy a car here?”

  Fuck, oh f**k.

  “Um… because they don’t sell the type of car that I want in this area. The closest dealership is Raleigh. ”

  I hope to God there’s a dealership that has foreign imports or something unusual in Raleigh, because I am so f**king flying by the seat of my pants at this point.

  “Well, if you can do it Thursday, I’ll be glad to drive you,” she says and then starts scrubbing the counters.

  “That works for me,” I tell her. “I’ll just go up now and call them to let them know I’ll be there Thursday instead. ”

  “Cool,” she says, never lifting her head to look up at me again.

  Her indifference to me is pushing all my buttons, and I feel the insane need to get her attention. Except, the way that I want to get it is by stalking up to her and kissing her hard… maybe with my hand between her legs. But that won’t do, because it will send her scurrying like a frightened mouse, and I’m not ready to send her totally packing just yet.

  So for now, I’ll have to bide my time and play according to the rules she’s silently laying out.

  After I get back into my office, I quickly do a Google search and find there’s a Maserati and a Rolls Royce dealership in Raleigh, breathing a quick sigh of relief my impromptu trip didn’t get cancelled before it started. I unplug my laptop to take it outside to do some writing when my phone rings.

  Pulling it out of my pocket, I see it’s my father calling and as much as I don’t want to talk to him, I know it’s probably important, so I answer.

  “Hi, Dad,” I say as I connect.

  “Gavin,” he says cautiously and I cringe, because his pain is my pain and I’ve had enough of both for now. “How have you been?”

  “Fine. Good. Settled in and writing nicely. You?”

  “I’m good,” he says, but his voice is sad. “We’re doing the best we can. ”

  I close my eyes against hurt and take a deep breath. “So, what’s up?”

  My dad is silent for a moment, and then he clears his throat. “Listen… you got an offer on the house. It’s way more than what you’re asking for, so I accepted it. ”

  Pressure squeezes my chest, strangling every nerve, muscle, vein, and artery within. I open my mouth to tell my dad, That’s great. Awesome.

  But not a f**king sound comes out.

  “It will all be settled within the next month,” he continues, and I feel dizzy so I sit down in the squeaky office chair I haven’t been able to replace yet.

  “So… um… listen, buddy. We’re going to have to clean it out,” he says sadly, and I grip the edge of my desk as darkness clouds my vision. “What do you want me to do with Charlie’s stuff?”

  My eyes flick to the photo of Charlie on my desk, and his smile fails to warm me
. I think about all of Charlie’s things in his room. His octopus stuffed animal and his little red fire engine hat that had a light and siren on top that he loved to wear wherever we went. His little tennis shoes with Velcro straps and purple dinosaurs on them.

  “Son?” my dad says gently. “What do you want me to do?”

  I blink hard, trying to focus. Giving a little cough, I try to clear the emotion from my throat, but it doesn’t work. “Pack it up… give it all away to a charity or something,” I rasp out.

  My dad is silent for a brief moment, and then he murmurs, “Okay. I’ll call you again in a few days to check in on you. ”

  “Okay,” I say absently, my mind already shutting down from this conversation. “Cheers. ”

  But then I abruptly call out to him, “Wait. ”

  “Gavin?”

  “Just wait… don’t give it away. Hold it at your house if you don’t mind. I’m not ready…” I start to say, but then my voice cracks.

  “I understand,” my dad says with only the grace that a parent can show to a child in pain. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

  “Okay,” I tell him.

  We talk for a few more minutes, then my mum jumps on the phone to say hello. We carefully skirt around talking about Charlie, and when we disconnect, I’m relieved the conversation is over.

  Setting my phone down on the desk, I scrub my hands over my face, and then through my hair, where I scratch at my scalp. I feel itchy all over and resist the urge to scratch at the skin on my arms. I wait for sadness to seep in, but as I look back over at Charlie’s photo, I feel anger surge through me.

  Hot, acidic, burning, lava-like anger builds, roiling and racing through my body. I want to hurt someone… lash out at them. Make them feel what I feel, so maybe if by sharing the burden, it will hurt me less.

  I briefly think about Savannah downstairs, obliviously immersed in her own little world, and the urge to break her cleanly in half to alleviate some of my own misery takes root. I could walk downstairs right now and with a few seductive words have her begging me for it. I could bend her over the couch, f**k her hard, and then tell her to get the hell out of my house because she wasn’t any good.

  Yeah, that would crush her… demoralize her beyond repair probably.

  And I’d feel good for a few minutes after, I’m sure.

  But then I think about having to see the pain in those soft, brown eyes and the anger turns directly inward at me, punching me in my stomach with the force of a nuclear bomb.

  Hurtling out of my chair, I grab the edge of my desk and pull upward as hard as I can, toppling it over and sending my laptop and Charlie’s photo crashing to the floor. I don’t give a moment’s thought to neither the laptop nor the precious manuscript I had been working on, but immediately run around the overturned desk and grab the frame that holds Charlie’s picture. The glass is shattered, causing dark, fractured spiderwebs to obscure his smiling face.

  A knock sounds at my door, as I pull the picture in tight to my chest.

  “Gavin… is everything okay?” I hear Savannah call out.

  “It’s fine,” I tell her, and my voice catches. Clearing my throat, I call out again. “It’s fine. Go away. ”

  “Are you sure?” she asks hesitantly.

  The anger flashes hot, and I yell, “Sod off already. I said I’m fine. ”

  She doesn’t answer me, and I can hear her footsteps fall softly away from the door. Leaning back against the wall, I bang my head against it once.

  Fuck… when will this ever end?

  12

  It’s amazing the way people will fawn all over you when you’re paying $140,000 in cash for a car.