Bang

  “I’m beginning to wonder if it will.”

  I swing my legs across his lap so that he can cradle me to his chest, and when I get comfortable in this new position, I tell him, “I met someone.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I think he’s interested.”

  “You said that about the others. What makes you think this one is different?” he questions.

  “I don’t know that he is, but it’s worth a shot, right?”

  He doesn’t respond, and when I tilt my head back to look up at him, he locks eyes with me.

  “I’m not giving up,” I say. “I need you to know that. I’ll do whatever it takes to get us that new beginning.”

  He kisses me, slipping his hand behind my head to hold me close. The familiar taste of his clove cigarettes comforts me the way a blanket would a child. He’s my comfort. I’ve depended on him ever since I was a little girl. He’s protected me as an eight-year-old child and continues to, even though I’m now a twenty-eight-year-old woman.

  The rough warmth of his tongue slides along mine, slowly, as he pulls back, ending our kiss.

  “So who’s the unfortunate bastard?”

  “His name’s Declan McKinnon. Bennett and I were at an event of his when I first met him.”

  “What kind of event?” he asks.

  “It was the opening of his hotel. He had a showy party with all the right names in attendance,” I tell him. “I don’t know much about him, but I do know that his father is a developer and has a long string of high-end hotels behind his name. I’m not sure how many Declan has his hands in, but that one for sure.”

  “He seems too high profile,” he says as he shifts me off his lap and heads to the kitchen. “Beer?”

  “Yeah.”

  He pops the caps then hands me a bottle when he sits back down next to me.

  “I know he’s not the ideal choice, and I wasn’t even going to mess with him, but he’s working with me on an event and we’re spending a lot of time together. I dunno . . .” I take a sip of my beer, and then add, “Time will only tell, but I can already see the intrigue. But I just met him, so I’m still trying to figure him out.”

  “And what do you think so far?”

  “I think he’s the type of guy who likes to have control. But at the same time, he seems amused when I get snarky with him. I already planted the seed that I’m a person that might need to be saved.” I laugh at the memory of being in his car just a couple hours ago. “I’m pretty sure he bought right into it. Stupid fool.”

  “Has he touched you yet?” he clips.

  “No, Pike. I’ve known the guy for a week; you know I don’t work that way. Men like to chase, so I’m gonna make him chase until he can’t resist.”

  “You think he could possibly fall for you?”

  “I’m hoping he does,” I tell him.

  “I do too. I’m sick of living like this, babe. You have no idea,” he says as he clutches my face in his hands and looks me over. “Knowing that fuck has his hands on you . . .”

  “I don’t feel it.”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not,” I say, but I am. I try so hard to not feel Bennett’s hands on me. I work at staving off any orgasm with him, and I hate myself when my body isn’t strong enough to fight it and he makes me come. It happens every now and then and the bile that rises is a burning reminder of the weakness that still lives inside of me. A weakness I continue to try to kill off, but Pike would be pissed if he knew, so I lie, allowing him to believe that only he has that part of me. The part his eyes are telling me he wants right now.

  “Tell me you hate him, Elizabeth,” he grits as he crawls on top of me, pushing my back down on the couch.

  “I hate him.”

  With a near growl, he crashes his mouth to mine, and the beer slips out of my hand, clanking against the floor. His tongue invades my mouth, hands grab locks of my hair, body pressing hard against mine. He takes over me, grinding his hard dick between my legs as I start fiddling with the buttons on his jeans. Once undone, I shove them down, past his hips, and he yanks mine down as well. We move quickly and carelessly. He sits back and jerks the pants off one of my legs.

  “Show me your tits,” he demands, looking down at me.

  I pull my top off and unclasp my bra, tossing it aside, and his rough hands are on them quick. He then takes his cock and pulls off a couple hard pumps while he twists one of my nipples between his fingers, sending a shockwave straight to my belly.

  “You want me to take it away?”

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  “Say it. Tell me that you need me to take it away.”

  He continues his torturous attack on my nipple before releasing and moving to the other. Pike knows I need him to numb. He’s always allowed me to use him like this. To numb the pain. Numb the past. Numb the present. Fucking Pike is my personal narcotic, and I’m long overdue for a hit. The words are near agony, when I give him what he loves to hear, “You’re the only who can make it go away, Pike.”

  He lowers his head, sucking the abused bud into his mouth.

  “Ohh, God, Pike. Fuck me. Just do it,” I beg.

  He quickly rips his shirt off, revealing the ink splayed across his chest and arms, before shoving my panties to the side and thrusting himself inside me. A volatile transgression as the sounds of our flesh slapping together fill the room. I grab his ass, urging him harder, and he gives it, pounding into me.

  Closing my eyes, I drift away to where nothing exists but the pleasure that builds inside. His carnal grunts heat my ear with his breath as he buries his head in the crook of my neck. We fuck filthy, like animals. The denim of his jeans that are shoved below his ass chafe the backs of my thighs while we grind ourselves into each other, my butt off the couch as I meet his thrusts with my own. Greedy.

  He grabs my hips as he sits back on his knees, bringing my pussy up to him when he starts slamming into me at a brutal pace.

  “Fuck, Pike,” I pant as I reach both my arms over my head and grip the arm of the couch.

  The swell of his dick inside of me as he gets close causes an eruption of fire, singeing its way through my veins as he makes me come. I go rigid, tensing up to get the most out of the orgasm, grinding my clit against his pelvis. A few seconds later he crashes into me and stills, letting go of a guttural hiss, as he shoots his tranquilizing disease inside of me.

  Collapsing his sweaty chest on top of mine, our labored breaths are heavy, and I’m pacified. For as long as I keep my eyes closed so I don’t have to see the best friend that I just used, I’m okay.

  Pike gives me a sick power that I crave. The power to take control, if even for a moment. Using him to clean me of the rot that contaminates me. And he gets off on being the one who can do that. To be the only person who can take it away, making my body a tomb. But now, as he slips his softening dick out from inside me, his warm cum running between my thighs when I sit up, I’m bathed in degradation, and he knows it. It’s always the same.

  He pulls me into his arms as he sits back after tugging his pants up. With his hand rubbing my back, I swallow hard as I attempt to control the feelings of shame.

  “Why do you still feel this way?” he asks, knowing me all too well.

  I don’t respond. He’s used to my silence after we have sex. What could I say that he doesn’t already know? The thing is, I know Pike loves me in a way I don’t share. He’s my brother and my best friend. But to him, I’m more. He’s never come right out and said it, but I know it anyway. It doesn’t stop him from fucking other girls, but I know he needs it. Pike has a thing for sex; he likes a lot of it. More than the average person I would assume. It’s never bothered me since I don’t view sex much differently than one would toilet paper. Using it to wipe away the shit-stain of life, and when you feel clean, you flush it and walk away.

  “You don’t need to feel like this. I don’t care that you use me in this way. I love you, so you can have it. If it makes you feel bet
ter, then just take it,” he says. “I’d rather you let me do this for you than allowing someone else.”

  His words make it even worse, so I pull back and shift to slide my leg back into my pants. He watches as I grab the rest of my clothes and walk to the bathroom.

  After I clean myself up and put my clothes back on, I walk out to see Pike wiping up the beer I spilled all over the floor.

  “Sorry,” I say as I stand there, and when he walks past me to throw away the wad of paper towels, he responds, “I don’t care about the beer.”

  “I’m sorry for more than just the beer,” I tell him. “I wish I could give you more money.”

  “I knew what I was signing up for. We both did. It’s too risky, so just ignore my bullshit,” he says as he walks back to the couch and motions for me to sit next to him. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it, taking in a long drag and then adding, “I just missed you,” as the smoke drifts out of his mouth, forming a vaporous cloud in front of his face. “When will you be able to get back here again?”

  “More often after the New Year. Bennett has a busy travel schedule, and I’m sure it’s gonna be even busier now.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “He just bought another production plant earlier this week in Dubai, so I imagine he’ll be going back to oversee the new outfit on the place and get it up and running,” I explain.

  “That’s good for us,” he laughs and I join him.

  “My thoughts exactly,” I say through a thick smile that I let wane when I ask, “How’ve you been?”

  “You know how it is. Nothing has changed for me,” he tells me. Pike has always found a way to skate by, pulling small cons and such. But he makes most of his money selling drugs. I used to as well. When we got out of the system, we lived with one of his friends that Pike worked for, dealing drugs. Pike was the middleman, putting himself on the street to sell product and made a decent amount of money doing so.

  “You need anything?”

  “For you to get your head on straight with this one.”

  “I’ve got my head on straight, Pike.” I hate when he talks to me like that. Like I don’t know what the hell I’m doing when I’m the one pulling the biggest con here, putting his skills in the sewer. “My focus has never wavered. But I need you to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Just be careful. Hands clean, remember?”

  I nod and then grab the remote to turn on the TV. We spend the next few hours hanging out like we used to, but before it gets too late, I know I have to leave and head back into the city.

  “With the holidays coming up, don’t get mad if I can’t get away, okay? I’ll try, but until January, it’ll be hard.”

  “I get it. Don’t do anything stupid trying to come see me,” he says as we stand up and walk to the door.

  I grab my coat and slip it on, then turn to give him a long hug. It’s hard to leave him, knowing he’s here in the shit-hole. He’s the only family I have and to not have any contact with him is scary for me since I know how easily family can be taken away. So with my cheek pressed to his chest, I take in his scent and hold on to it while he runs the fingers from both of his hands through my hair and down to my face. Cupping my jaw, he angles me to look up at him. His brown eyes are intense when he asks, “Hard as steel?”

  “Yeah,” I breathe.

  He taught me, at an early age, how to live without emotions. How to wrap that steel cage around my heart, always telling me that no one can ever hurt you if you can’t feel. So I don’t. Outside of Pike, there’s no one I’ll give that to because emotions are what make people weak. And I can’t afford to make that slip. The heart is a weapon—a self-inflicting weapon—that if not trained properly, can destroy a person.

  I WATCH AS Bennett moves around the bedroom, getting dressed in his three-piece suit to go in to the office for the day. He arrived late a couple nights ago and as I presumed, his schedule is now packed with travel after the purchase he just made. Even though he’s home now, he’s been living at the office before he heads out again at the end of this week.

  The chill in the air is getting to me, and I sink down into the bed and further under the covers.

  “Do you need me to adjust the thermostat?” Bennett asks me as he nears my side of the bed.

  “Are you not cold?”

  He sits on the mattress beside me, leans down to kiss my nose, and then smiles.

  “What?” I ask as he pulls away.

  “Your nose is cold. Come here.”

  I sit up, and he wraps me in his arms in an attempt to warm me up. Slipping my arms around his waist, under his suit coat, I curl into him.

  “I missed this,” I breathe. “Having you—here—with me.”

  “I know. I missed it too,” he says, moving back to look into my eyes. “You can always come with me, you know? You don’t have to be alone.”

  “I know, but Declan has already scheduled appointments out with vendors for the party. I’ll be busy for the next few weeks.”

  “How did your visit with the florist go the other day?” he asks.

  Running my hand along his silk tie, I tell him, “It went well. I think we got nearly everything picked out.”

  “Good.”

  He combs his fingers through my hair and leans in to kiss me. Slow and soft, taking his time. Bennett tends to be overly affectionate after he returns from a trip, and I never deny him, so I shift up to my knees and hold his face in my hands. When he grips my hips, clutching onto the satin of my slip gown, I take over his mouth, urging him on. He pulls me down atop his lap, and his growing cock presses against me as I grind my hips into him.

  “God, baby. I can’t get enough of you,” he mumbles against my neck, between his gentle kisses.

  “You want me?”

  “I always want you,” he tells me. “But you’re gonna make me late. I’ve got a meeting.”

  Grinning at him, I say, “I’ll be fast,” before slipping off his lap and onto my knees on the floor beside the bed. Quickly working my hands, I undo his slacks and yank them down. And as he sits on the edge of the bed, I wrap my lips around his dick and suck him off while he moans my name.

  Once fully satisfied, he kisses me deeply when I walk him to the door before he leaves.

  “I hate that I have to leave when all I want is to make love to you all day.”

  The ringing of my cell interrupts us, and he waits while I grab it off the kitchen counter and answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Nina, it’s Declan.”

  “Hi.”

  “I was wondering if you could stop by the hotel later today. Betty, from Marguerite Gardens, is having a few arrangements delivered for you to look at,” he says.

  “Um . . . sure. That shouldn’t be a problem at all. What time would be good?”

  “They should be delivered by noon.”

  “Okay, I’ll swing by later then,” I tell him before we hang up.

  “Who was that?” Bennett asks when I walk back over to him.

  “Declan. The florist is sending over some sample arrangements for me to look at later today, so I’ll just take one of the cars to the hotel if Baldwin is going to be with you.”

  “You sure?”

  Lifting up on my toes, I give him a little kiss. “I’m sure.”

  “I’ll call you when I leave the office. How about I take you out for a nice dinner at Everest tonight?”

  “Sounds perfect,” I say with a smile.

  He runs his thumb down my lips and then gives my chin a little pinch, saying, “Have a good day, okay?”

  “You too.”

  As soon as he leaves, I walk into the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove, and while I wait for it to boil, I look over to the dining room table. The extravagant vase of purple roses that Bennett gave me when he got home last night sits in the center of the table. The sight causes a physical reaction inside of me. A twisting in my gut as I grit my teeth. I hate purple. I told him it was my favorite thou
gh, so when he gives me flowers, his way of showering me with affection, it only reminds me of everything I hate. Purple walls flash in my mind, and it only reinforces my steel wall. Bennett is everything a husband should be, so it was essential that I create fissures within him. Purple flowers being one of them.

  The squealing whistle of the kettle snaps me out of the purple and into the present. I fix my tea and make my way into the bedroom to get ready for the day. Knowing I’m going to be seeing Declan, I want to look nice, so I set my mug down on the center island in my closet and start sorting through my clothes. Selecting a simple black shift dress, I pair it with patent black heels and my white, wool, knee-length coat.

  After a slow morning getting ready and taking a phone call from Jacqueline to schedule a lunch date with the girls, I grab my purse and head down to the parking garage. It takes a while to get to the hotel with the hectic lunch traffic in the loop, but when I arrive, the valet takes my car and I make my way back to Declan’s office.

  When I approach his door, I can hear his voice on the other side. He sounds angry, barking orders with whoever he must be on the phone with because it’s only Declan’s voice I hear. I wait, and when I notice the conversation has ended, I give the door a couple light taps.

  “Come in,” he calls.

  Opening the door, his focus is on his laptop and nothing else as he’s clicking away at the keyboard.

  “Bad time?” I question hesitantly, and when he hears my voice, he flicks his eyes my way and swivels his chair away from his computer to face me. “I can come back.”

  “No,” he simply states as he stands up and walks towards me, taking me by the elbow and turning me to walk with him. “This way.”

  His snippy attitude the other day at the florist was irritating, but for some reason, right now, it doesn’t have that effect on me, figuring that whoever he was just speaking to is the culprit of his mood, and not me. I follow him out of his office and down to an opulent private dining room that’s currently free of people. He opens the double-etched glass doors and leads me into the dark room, dimly lit by the sparse chandeliers. Towards the back of the dining space, there is a secluded table that’s covered in burnt orange and white flowers with dark, rich greenery. Some accented with spiral grapevines and others darkened with blackened moss.