Hard (7 page)

I’m such a fucking whore!
she raged silently as she stormed into her bedroom and slammed the door. On the dresser was a picture of her and Terry, a wine glass in their hands as they smiled at the camera. It was taken the previous Christmas at the hospital staff party, the event where Terry had announced their engagement to his coworkers to much cheering and congratulations. And yet, less than seventy-two hours later, Stiles was balls deep inside her as she shared his bed. He was nothing but a fuck then, something they both understood, but over time he had stolen her heart.

Something had changed within her after their weekend in the mountains. It was there that she had first seen him as more than a hard cock, and she liked what she saw. She saw him as the intelligent, thoughtful, man that he was, treating her with the same respect that Terry did when in public, but setting her passions ablaze at night in the privacy of their bedroom.

She picked up the picture, intending to smash it against the wall, but finally sat it back in place and sat on her bed. She gasped, trying to hold her tears, and then gasped again, losing the battle with her emotions. She sat for a long time, weeping into her hands.
I’m so fucked up,
she moaned to herself as she sobbed.
I don’t know what to do!

Eventually her tears stopped and she felt dazed, as if she were someone else, and she sat, staring at nothing, her thoughts quiet. She couldn’t give up Stiles for Terry. She knew it wasn’t fair, but she knew that every time Terry touched her, she would think of Stiles and resent Terry for what she had left behind. She was already fantasying that it was Stiles’s touch she felt when she was making love to Terry. She also worried that what she was feeling was nothing more than a case of the nerves, and after she was married and settled, she would feel differently. Unbeknownst to her parents, she had always been something of a party girl, always eager for the next sex partner. Stiles had kept her interest longer than anyone but she wondered if she would eventually grow tired of him, too. If she were to break off the marriage with Terry, and Stiles became tired of her, or she of him, she would have nothing except a blackened reputation to show for it.

She fell backwards onto the bed, feeling the tears threatening again. If she could just be more like Lindy, so sure of what she wanted and where she was going. She stared at the ceiling, praying for an answer to appear there, but none did.

Finally, she grabbed her phone and dialed the one person she knows she could trust.

CHAPTER TEN

“You’re sure you don’t want to stay?” Treble asked as they kissed and touched, not opposed to going a third time. There was something about her, something beyond her stunning figure and angelic face, which tickled his peach.

It was almost two and Lindy was beginning to feel uncomfortable. “I want to, but I need to go home. I need a shower—”

“I have a shower.”

“—and to change clothes,” she continued as if Treble hadn’t spoken.

“But you won’t mind if I call you later?”

She smiled at him.
He had better call me later.
“Not at all. I hope you will.”

He had other women give him the brushoff before, but he was glad Lindy wasn’t one of them. “You want one for the road?” he asked as he softly stroked the inside of her thigh.

“Mmm…I would love one, but I’m a little sore. Later?”

“I don’t know if I can wait that long,” he said with a grin, his fingers inching closer to her.

“You better stop or I might change my mind.”

“That’s a bad thing?”

“It is if it makes me so sore it takes a week to recover.”

He bent and slowly kissed her stomach. “There are other ways.”

She took a deep breath and steeled her resolve. “It won’t stop there. You know it and I know it. Besides, you probably have women waiting outside the RV right this minute for a taste.”

He grinned as he recognized the trap. “I’m only interested in one at the moment.”

She smiled at his skillful dodge. She was feeling a little clingy, and she knew it, but she was trying to rein it in and get her balance back. She needed a little bit of space to sort out her feelings and get control of herself. “Call me in a day or two if you are still interested.”

“I need your number.”

She rose from the bed, enjoying how he let his fingers drag along her skin until the last moment. She wandered into the front of the RV, putting some swing into her hips to give him a show and then returned with a business card with a number written on the back. He took the card and kissed it before laying it on the side table beside the clock.

“Tomorrow?”

“Not too early. I have to catch up on my sleep.”

“I can help you with that,” he teased.

Yes he can.
“We’ll see.” She was playing hard to get, but she liked the fact that he at least appeared to be interested in her for more than a quick fuck. It was probably all part of the game, but it made her want him all the more. “Take me to my car?”

“You won’t stay?”

“No. Not now, but maybe later.”

He stared into her large eyes a moment longer and then kissed her softly. The kiss lingered, and he hoped it was going somewhere, but she slowly pushed him away.

“Right. Car,” he sighed.

***

“Call me tomorrow?” she asked as she handed him the extra helmet.
Goddamn it! I hate this whiny insecure little girl shit!

“If I can fit it into my busy schedule,” he said, flashing her his best grin to let her know he was teasing.

“Busy schedule, huh? What do you do that would keep you so busy on a Sunday?”

“Hey, a handyman’s work is never done. You never know when a problem might crop up and need dealing with.”

“You’re a handyman?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that unless there is an emergency, I’ll call you.”

“That didn’t answer the question.”

He grinned again, enjoying the verbal fencing. “I handle problems, just like all handymen. If someone has a problem, they give me a call and I try to take care of it. Nothing to it.”

She looked at him, sensing there was truth in what he said, but the way he worded it made it seem there was a lot more to it than a leaky pipe or broken window. Still, it was none of her business, so she let it go. “I had a good time.”

“I did, too.” He watched as she looked down and scuffed her toe on the pavement. “Is there something else?” he asked, feeling like she was holding something back.

“I just wanted to say…thank you. Thank you for being so…understanding and gentle. It didn’t happen quite like I imagined it would…but…I’m glad it was you.”

“No regrets?” he asked softly, touched in spite of himself by her words.

“No regrets.” She stepped in close and bent down to kiss him softly on the lips. He took one hand off the handlebar and placed it on the back of her head, holding her gently into the kiss until she pulled back.

She watched him a moment, her emotions in turmoil. She wanted to see him again, but at the same time, she felt like she needed some space to sort out how she actually felt. She couldn’t feel anything for him, not after just one night, and it had to be losing her virginity to him that made her feel the way she did. But it didn’t change the fact that she had to force herself not to invite him back to her apartment right now.

“I’ll call you,” he said before starting his bike. He could see the war raging within her and he wanted to give her an out. Besides, the last thing he needed was some clingy chick that thought she owned him after a roll in the sack. Lindy didn’t strike him as that type of woman, but she was probably a bit confused right now. He could remember how he felt about the girl that had taken his virginity and how disappointed he had been that he was nothing more than a lied. He had recovered, and now recognized it as part of the process, but he didn’t want Lindy to feel like that. He would give her some space and then if she wanted another tumble, he would gladly oblige her.

Lindy watched as Treble pulled away, disappointment mixed with relief at his leaving. She stood outside her car a moment then snorted. She didn’t believe that handyman stuff for a instant, or at the very least there was a lot more to it than he indicated, but at the same time, she would have never picked him to be as considerate and gentle as he was. Yes, he looked like a wet dream, and was covered in tattoos, and he
certainly
knew how to please a woman, and knew it. But beneath all that, there was a certain charm and caring she really liked.

As she sat down in her car, she squirmed a bit, the pleasant soreness between her legs reminding her of not only what she had lost, but what she had gained. The loss of her innocence, if you could call it that, paled in comparison to making the final step into adulthood and being able to experience the pleasures of man and woman. As the Golf sprang to life, she smiled. Her parents would shit kittens if they knew, but she actually was glad it had been Jack “Treble” Johnson, a muscled up, tattooed, leather wearing, gang member, that had deflowered her. Her smiled broadened as she shifted the car into drive, imagining the look on Bridget’s face when she told her.

That was precisely the moment when her phone rang with a call from Bridget.

“Hello?”

“Lindy. I need a favor.”

“Okay, what?”

“I got a tattoo last night and I—”

“You what?”

“A tattoo. I want you to go with me to finish it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding! Dad is going to kill you!”

“He doesn’t have to know and you can’t tell him.”

“How can he not know?”

“It’s really small, and it’s on my ankle. He’ll never notice it if you don’t tell him.”

“Okay. But if he notices it, I’m going to deny knowing anything about it.”

“That’s my brave little sister. So you’ll do it?”

“I guess. Why do you need me along?”

“Because it’s a lot easier to get a tattoo when you’re zombied than when you’re sober.”

“Why didn’t you finish it last night?” Lindy asked as she threw the towel over the rod to dry and opened her closet to pick out clothes.

“Because it got late. The outline is done. Now they need to color in the wings.”

Lindy shook her head as she selected a sundress because she was feeling especially feminine just now. “I still can’t believe you did it, but okay. Yeah, I’ll tag along.”

“Great! Thanks! I’ll be there in a half-hour.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Let me see,” Lindy said as Bridget stepped into her apartment.

Bridget sat down on the couch and put her right leg up so Lindy could see the tattoo. Just below the anklebone was a quarter size butterfly with the body and the outline of the wings inked in. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re getting crazier all the time, but yeah, I guess you could get away with it. If you had on sneakers instead of sandals, you wouldn’t be able to see it at all. But why?”

“I don’t know,” Bridget huffed. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. This is all your fault, you know.”

“My fault?” Lindy squawked as they moved to the door. “How could this possibly be my fault?”

“You left early when you knew I was going to get zombied. And because you weren’t there, look what happened.”

“Oh, please!”

“It’s true! That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Where did you go last night? I didn’t even notice you leave.”

Lindy smiled as she locked her door. If Bridget only knew. “Nowhere. You know me. I never do anything.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bridget said as if it was the saddest thing she had ever heard. “And I was so hoping you would do something you would later regret.”

Lindy had to work hard to not burst into giggles. “Nope. No regrets.”

“Why are you all dressed up?”

Lindy tugged at her dress. “I don’t know. I just felt like wearing a dress. What do you think?”

Bridget looked her little sister over. The pale yellow accented her dark hair and eyes perfectly, while the V-neck front revealed just enough cleavage to hold a man’s attention without being tacky, and though she couldn’t put her finger on why, Lindy seemed to have more spring in her step than normal. “You look good. I like the color.”

Lindy warmed with the compliment but said nothing. “What did you do after I left, besides get the tattoo?” she asked as she opened the passenger door to Bridget’s SUV.

“I got naked and danced on a table.”

“You did not!”

“Okay, I didn’t. At least I don’t think I did. It’s so hard to remember.”

“Well…I guess it’s good to get it all out of your system now.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Bridget, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you should be excited and bouncing off the walls about your wedding, but you don’t even seem to care. Or worse, like you are dreading it. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Bridget sighed. “No, nothing. I guess I am just nervous, that’s all.”

“Why are you nervous? You have nothing to be nervous about, do you?”

“Have you ever been engaged?” Bridget asked.

“You know I haven’t.”

“Then you won’t understand. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Lindy puzzled over her sister’s actions. “Terry’s a great guy. You two will be so happy together,” she said, trying to reassure her.

“Yeah.”

Lindy stared at Bridget for a long time as she rode along, trying to figure out what was eating her sister. The closer the wedding got, the more down Bridget seemed to be, but she couldn’t understand why.

***

Bridget pulled her Ford Escape into the driveway of a small tattoo pallor made from a converted house.
SkinMusic…where have I heard that name before?
Lindy wondered as she opened the door.

Bridget strode toward the house like she owned the place as Lindy followed a couple paces behind. She had never been in a tattoo parlor before and didn’t know what to expect, and the blacked out windows and purple neon didn’t do anything to reassure her.

Bridget opened the door and stepped in without a pause, leaving the door open for Lindy to close. As she stepped in and closed the door, she looked around. The walls were covered with artwork and pictures of tattoos…and sitting on a stool beside the artist, watching him work on the forearm of a man, was Treble.