Brooke & Ben: Before Fate Interrupted (9 page)

Tasha massaged
the swelling in his pants. “Just keeping Audrey’s seat warm.”

Ryan grabbed her
by the wrist and pulled. “I can’t do this, Tasha. I’m sorry, but I really like
her.”

“Ryan, listen to
me, we’re not doing anything. I’m just going to give you a quick hand job and
then you can go on your merry way. No strings attached.” Her hand slithered
back into his lap, making him flinch. “We will pretend like none of this ever
happened. I promise.”

“Not a good
idea,” he replied, seizing her wrist again.

This time Tasha
held her ground, rubbing the stiffening bulge in his jeans. “Let me do this for
you. Just five minutes,” she said, smiling as he grew in her hand. “It’s just a
quick experiment. Completely professional.”

His face fell.
“You’re a hooker now?”

“What?” She
laughed. “No silly! It’s a long story, but you just sit back and enjoy the
ride.”

Ryan snapped his
head around when a car’s headlights splashed across them like it could be
Audrey pulling into the lot. He turned back around when he heard his zipper go
down, his chest undulating beneath his tight t-shirt. “This is a really bad
idea.”

Tasha ignored
him and pulled his swollen cock through his unzipped fly. “He doesn’t seem to
think so.” She throttled him with her warm hand and stroked, sweeping a tongue
across her shiny lips, admiring her handy work. “Looks like he still remembers
me.”

“He thinks about
you a lot,” Ryan panted, watching her hand rise and fall in his lap.

“Oh yeah? What’s
he thinking now?”

***

Evy plopped down
in Tasha’s seat and ordered a glass of wine from the waitress.

“So what was
Richie up to tonight?” Brooke asked, taking a slow sip of her third cosmo,
which was making her feel better already.

“Well, we went
to dinner and a movie and then he went out with his friends.”

Brooke frowned,
heavy music filling the silence between them. “Doesn’t that freak you out a
little?”

“No. Why?”

Brooke glanced
at her watch. “Because nothing good happens to boyfriends in bars after
midnight. It’s Darwinism at its finest.”

Evy crossed her
legs and wagged a black boot through the air like a nervous tail. “I have
nothing to worry about when it comes to Richie. Trust me.”

Brooke’s
eyebrows rose into the middle of her forehead. She took another drink to help swallow
what she wanted to say next.

“Where’s Tasha?”

Brooke set the
glass down. “Out giving some guy a hand job in the parking lot.”

“Oh, good for
her.”

Brooke busted up
laughing and then grew silent. “So why did you come here anyway?” she asked,
scoping the place out for a sign of her friend. “It’s way past your bedtime.”

Evy leaned in closer.
“Can I tell you something, and you promise to keep it a secret?”

Brooke turned
back to her and blinked blankly. “Sure.”

***

Tasha furrowed
her brow and worked harder, her breath coming in rapid spurts. “What’s
happening?”

Ryan gritted his
teeth, watching her hand go to town on him. “I don’t know.”

“You were getting
hard just a minute ago!” She stroked faster, his penis retreating into its
uncircumcised self like a tortoise head.

“It’s starting
to hurt.”

She stopped long
enough to spit in her hand and then got back to work.

He pressed
against the steering wheel with both hands and pushed into the seat. “I’m too nervous.”

“Nervous about
what?”

His eyes roamed
the darkened parking lot. “Getting caught with my dick in your hand.”

“Maybe you’ve just
had too much to drink.”

“I was on my
second beer.”

A low groan
rumbled past Tasha’s lips. “Shut up and concentrate.” Her hand slid up and down
his wrinkled shaft. “You wanna squeeze my tits? Here.” She placed his hand on
her right breast.

Ryan squeezed
weakly.

“You’re not
going to break it, Ryan!”

He squeezed a
little harder but not much.

She brought her bare
foot up from the floorboard. “You wanna suck on my toes? I remember you being a
foot guy.” She stuck her foot in his mouth and slowed her hand down a bit. “Is
that better?”

Ryan slowly
nodded while timidly rubbing her breast, her toes stuffed in his mouth. “A
liffle.”

“Ooh, that is
better,” she said brightly, watching him start to grow in her hand again.

***

“I found out
Richie has been messaging some blond girl named Emma on Facebook.”

In a flash,
Brooke’s green eyes turned darker. “Emma? Who the hell is that?”

“No idea.”

“You think he’s
cheating on you?”

Evy leaned back
and massaged a temple. “I don’t know what I think.”

A few seconds clicked
by, the bar’s bubbly patrons getting louder by the minute, the nearly packed dance
floor on the other side of the room a sure sign of it getting late.

“What did they
say?”

“He told her he
wanted to apologize for what happened.”

Brooke’s
eyebrows dipped. “Apologize for what?”

“Don’t know, but
she told him it was water under the bridge.”

“And?”

“And that was
it.”

Brooke leaned
back into the armchair. “That is so weird.”

“Right?”

“Wait, why were
you on his Facebook page?”

Evy exhaled a
sour breath. “Because he left it open like an idiot. I wasn’t prying.”

“Maybe it’s
nothing then if he left it open like that.”

Evy’s boot
wagged faster. “Maybe.”

Their eyes met,
a silent understanding passing between them.

“He’s cheating
on you, Ev.”

“You don’t know
that!”

“He seems like
the cheating kind.”

Evy wrinkled her
face. “What makes you say that?”

“He has
wandering eyes. Always checking out other women whenever we all go out
somewhere for dinner or something.” She paused to consider it further. “If he’s
not
sick
, that is.”

“You are jumping
to conclusions as usual.”

“Are you going
to confront him?”

Evy finished her
drink and set it down. “I think I have to, don’t I?”

“Of course you
have to. If you don’t, your mind will constantly imagine the worst.”

“It already is,”
Evy said, getting to her heels. “I have to use the restroom. Order me another
one if she comes back.”

Brooke leaned
into the comfy chair, her eyes surfing the crowd in search of Tasha and landing
on the guy with dark spiky hair and earrings standing right next to her.

“Your boyfriend
is pretty hot.” His sly grin stretched from ear to ear across his pasty skin.

“She’s my
sister
and my boyfriend will be here any
minute.”

He held out his
hand. “Dance with me until he shows up.”

“No thanks, I’m
trying to quit.”

He wiggled his
fingers. “Come on, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Her gaze turned icy
on a dime. “Since you have a hard time taking a hint, I’ll make myself clear.
Go fuck yourself, asshole.”

He leaned down
and rested his hands on the table, glaring into her startled eyes. “Look, I get
it. You wanna play hard to get and I applaud the effort. But let’s drop the bullshit
charade and get serious. We both know we want this. I see it in your eyes.”

“Those are
called contacts, idiot, and if you don’t get out of my face I’m going to cut
your dick off.”

He grinned at
her for a passing moment that lasted way too long. “Now, we’re getting
somewhere.” He straightened back up and grabbed her hand. “Come on,” he said,
jerking his chin to the dance floor and pulling on her arm. “One dance.”

Brooke yanked
her hand back and threw her drink in his crotch. He jumped back and held his
arms out, watching his faded jeans darken.

“Uh-oh, looks like
somebody needs to be changed,” she smirked.

He looked up,
anger dancing in his eyes. “You fucking bitch!” He grabbed her cocktail napkin,
shoved it in her hand and pressed it to the wet spot in his pants. “That what you
want, huh? You wanna clean my junk?”

Brooke tried
yanking her hand away but his determined grip wouldn’t falter.

“Clean it up,
bitch!”

She barely had
time to scream before the guy’s head slammed down onto the table. The loud
crack silenced the crowd around them. Brooke jumped back in the chair and
almost tipped over. Her eyes bulged from their sockets when she saw Ben twist
the guy’s arm behind his back.

“Time to say
goodnight, asshole.” Ben grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him
off the table, his tattooed biceps testing his short sleeves.

Pain twisted the
guy’s face. “Let me go! You’re breaking my arm!”

Ben leaned into
his ear. “Walk!” He shot Brooke a wink before turning to usher the guy outside.

“Let him go,
shit-head!”

Ben turned to see
two black guys - one built like a Texas quarterback and the other like a grumpy
pit-bull - standing in front of him, blocking his exit. “Oh shit,” he muttered,
hiking the white guy’s arm up even higher.

Spiky hair
screamed to the ceiling, a clear signal to his buddies to start closing in.

“Let him go or
we’ll bust you up, homeboy,” the pit-bull said, balling his hands into fists
and taking up a defensive stance.

Ben pushed spiky
hair into them, knocking them back a little. “Get him outta here before he gets
hurt!”

The white guy
whirled on his heels, favoring his arm and glaring at Ben through malevolent
eyes. “You’re dead, cocksucker.”

The three closed
in.

Ben backpedaled
with his hands up. “Now hang on a second guys, let’s be civil about this. How
about you buy me and the lady a drink and we’ll forget the whole damn thing.”
He brushed invisible dirt from his hands, but they kept coming. “No?”

Quarterback
shoved Ben in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards and falling into
Brooke’s lap. He flashed her a quick smile. “Hey! Good to see you again, Brooke.”

“Would you like
some help?”

He shook his
head. “Naw, I got this.”

“Look out!” Her
head snapped back as pit-bull caught Ben’s jaw with a sucker punch.

Ben shook it off
and sprang to his feet, fists cocked and loaded. He spit blood to the floor
without taking his eyes off them. “Okay, who’s the brave one?”

They laughed and
inched closer for more.

“You think
you’re a bad ass?” Pit bull rolled his shoulders one time. “Time for a siesta,
essay.”

Ben lowered his
fists. “Hey, have you guys met my friend, Hicks, yet?”

Spiky hair and the
quarterback didn’t even have time to turn around. Hicks smashed them together
like rag dolls and they fell to the floor. Pit-bull paid little attention and
launched another missile at Ben’s face. Ben dodged to the left, narrowly
avoiding the crushing blow, and delivered a hard right to pit-bull’s nose.

Pit-bull
crumpled to the floor like a wet noodle just before two bartenders and an
oversized bouncer scrambled over to get in the middle.

“You all right,
Ben?” the bouncer asked, collaring spiky hair.

Ben wiped the
corner of his mouth and studied the blood smeared across his fingers. “I’m good.”

“Let’s go,
fellas,” the shorter bartender said, helping pit-bull to his feet.

Ben watched them
escort the three lowlifes out the front door and fist bumped Hicks, who
returned to a table of three blonds wearing skin tight jeans and high heels. Ben
turned back to Brooke and spread a bloody smile. “Oh snap, looks like somebody
owes me now.”

Brooke pursed
her lips together. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“The hell you
don’t! I just saved your life.”

A burst of hot
air shot through her lips. “Please! I was doing just fine before you showed up.”

He put his hands
on his hips and stared at her through insistent eyes, the music drowning out
the rising chatter around them.

She squirmed in
the chair, unable to tear her gaze from his muscular arms. “Okay fine, thank
you. There, are you happy?”

“I’d be happier
if you bought me a drink,” he said, rubbing his chin and sitting down. “My
mouth hurts real bad.”

“You can’t sit
there!”

“Why not?”

“Who’s this and
why is he bleeding in my seat?”