Damaged and the Cobra (8 page)

All my life, I’d wanted a muse. My artist’s heart
demanded a woman who inspired me. Even when I had no trouble creating art, I
longed for someone who would make it fucking perfection. Now, I had met her and
she was just out of reach.

Finishing my beer, I stood in the studio at the
back end of my property. Before I bought the house, the structure was a rundown
one car garage. I rebuilt it for my studio, even adding an air conditioning
unit in the window. I now stood in front of it and cooled down. Spring had
gotten hot fast.

Nearby, my English Terriers panted in each other’s
faces. I didn’t blame them. Even in nothing more than boxers, I was hotter than
hell.

“One day, you’ll meet Lark and you’ll understand,”
I told Professor when he whined and wanted back into the house. “You’ll be
crazy about her and wish you could paint her face a million times.”

Pollack grew jealous of the attention Professor was
getting and came to whine too. She also panted in her brother’s face again.

Staring at the still wet painting of Lark smiling
back at me, I knew she was mine. Even after telling Cooper I would let Lark set
the pace and find her way back to me, I was tempted to get dressed, ride to her
house, and force her to choose me that very moment. Lark was fragile in a lot
of ways, but I sensed those weaknesses were out of habit and a defense mechanism
like her smiling. Under her quiet demeanor, she was a fighter and I knew she
was ready to throw a punch.

“Do you think Coop would fucking wait for his
girl?” I asked Pollack who was panting on my bare leg. She responded by licking
me then turning around and sitting on my foot. Professor looked as impressed by
my question. “The answer, guys, is no. He would stalk anyone and everyone to
get what he wanted. Coop wouldn’t care who he messed with or how much he scared
his girl. He would just take what was his and screw the consequences.”

I wasn’t Coop though. Normally, I thought my self
control was a good thing. A sign of my superiority to the guy who fucked up
regularly then apologized like his crazy was just a side effect of perfection.
Standing in the hot studio and staring into the painted eyes of the girl I
needed, I realized there were benefits to being Cooper.

“I’m giving her a week,” I said, tossing my empty
beer bottle and heading for the door. “A week to take her punch at that shit
family of hers. If she can’t do it, I’ll throw it for her.”

Bailey’s tough girl expression was really a variation
of the duckface. She pursed her lips and strutted around the room like
something was stinky. On anyone else, her expression would cause people to
point and laugh. Yet, on Bailey Fucking Johansson, no one was laughing.

As we waited for Larry to arrive, my mom kept
offering Bailey crackers.

“They’re really good crackers,” Margo said. “Larry
gets them from a friend at the cracker company.”

“I don’t want your damn crackers, woman!” Bailey
finally cried. “Stop asking.”

Laughing behind my hand, I watched Mom stare at the
crackers as if shocked anyone wouldn’t want them. Bailey noticed me giggling
and rolled her eyes.

“When’s this old guy coming home?”

“Larry isn’t old,” Margo said quickly. “He’s only
fifty.”

“I’m nineteen, so yeah, he’s old.” Bailey stretched
in the air. “Can’t you just say Lark has permission to stay at my place this
weekend? And why does she need permission anyway? Are you running a gulag
here?”

“What’s a gulag?” Margo asked.

Bailey shrugged. “Say yes, so I can leave. I have
homework to do. I care about my grades lately. It’s my new thing.”

“It’s Larry’s decision,” Margo mumbled, glancing
towards the garage where the door opened. “He’s the man of the house.”

“Barf. No man tells me what to do. Well, except my
pop and occasionally my stupid brothers. I once let a cop tell me what to do,
but I was sleepy and didn’t need the hassle of putting him in his place. You
should try growing some balls, lady, and make your man behave. Just saying.”

While I laughed, Margo only frowned. Entering the
room, Larry looked at the three of us then focused his fake happy gaze on
Bailey.

“Who is this?”

“Bailey Fucking Johansson. Don’t pretend you don’t
know me. I have no time for lies, Larry. I’m a busy woman. You know, with me
caring about my grades and everything.”

Clearly confused, Larry frowned so I stepped up. “I
want to spend the weekend at Bailey’s house. She lives with her parents.”

“Because I want to, not because I have to,” Bailey
interrupted. “I’m mature enough to be on my own. Just saying.”

“I don’t know if this would be such a good idea,”
Larry said, resting his briefcase in Margo’s obedient arms. “You’ve been
running wild lately.”

“Are you telling me no!” Bailey hollered then stood
on the coffee table. “Do I need to make a scene here, old man? Should I call my
pop and have him explain shit to you?”

“Look…”

“No! No! No!” Bailey chanted and kept chanting.

As Margo covered her ears, Larry’s stupid poodle
yelped and spun around in a circle. A moment passed when I thought the old man
would treat Bailey the way he treated all women. Put her in her place, remind
her how he was the man, and she was lucky to breathe the same air as him.

I saw in his fair eyes how he planned to grab
Bailey who was still yelling, “No!” Realization flickered as he remembered why
Bailey Fucking Johansson could walk into an upstanding member of the
community’s house, stand on a coffee table, and scream like a child in the
throes of a tantrum.

“You’ll stay at Miss Johansson’s house. No
wandering off to see any boys.”

“Okay,” I said quickly then took Bailey’s hand so
her yelling would stop.

“Did we win?” she asked.

“We won.”

Larry grunted at this comment then gave Bailey
another fake smile. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Sure, old timer. I’m out of here. I’ll be back to
pick up Lark on Friday evening. Don’t make me scream at you again or I’m
pulling my gun next time.”

Done with her threats, Bailey strutted to the front
door while wearing her duckface. I followed her outside then hugged her.

“Thank you.”

“You give great hugs,” Bailey said, softening in my
embrace. “My mom gives great hugs too.”

“You’re awesomesauce and I’ll make this up to you
one day.”

“No worries,” Bailey said, smiling softly after the
hug ended. “I like helping people. It’s fun. I also like screaming. With that
fuckwad, I got to do both. It’s been a good day.”

Hugging her again, I didn’t care if Larry was rude
the rest of the night or if Margo gave me a lecture. All I knew was I had a
weekend to see Aaron. I just hoped he really meant he would wait.

Cooper had decked out the basement of his suburban
house as a teenage boy’s dream. Home theater at one end and videogames at the
other with a pool table in the middle. Farah was the one who seemed to enjoy
the table the most and she hit a ball into the corner pocket.

Cooper slid up behind her and rubbed his groin
against her butt.

“When we have kids, you’re teaching them to play
pool,” he said in her ear. “I want them sending assholes into tears by beating
them so badly.”

“You made less sense when you’re horny.”

“I’d feel sorry for you, if you weren’t the one
wearing these shorts. Damn.”

For a minute, I thought they might fuck on the
table with me standing awkwardly nearby. Fortunately, they remembered I existed
and smiled at me in unison.
Great, they really were sharing a brain now.

“Domestication isn’t always pretty,” I muttered,
sitting in a chair and watching Farah take another shot.

“Dude, forgot to mention…” Cooper said, losing his
train of thought as Farah bent over.

Farah finished for him, again proving they shared a
brain. “Lark told her jerk stepdad that she’s spending the weekend with Bailey.
She’d like to sneak over and spend it with you instead.”

Bolting to my feet, I nearly came out of my skin.
“I’ve been here for a fucking hour and you never mentioned this?”

Farah frowned at me. “Coop wanted to be the one to
tell you. Don’t blame me for his short attention span. And don’t yell at me
either.”

“Want me to smack him, baby?” Cooper asked,
nuzzling his groin against her waist. “I’ll do it for a small fee.”

“He yelled at your woman. Kick his ass for free,
Coop.”

Awaking from his horniness, Cooper glared at me.
“Apologize or I crush your face.”

“Fuck off. You should have told me about Lark as
soon as I got here.”

“I’m not one to gossip,” Cooper said, eyeing
Farah’s ass as she bent over.

“Twenty minutes ago, you told me about Bailey’s
date with a stoner. Before that, you told me about the rumor that some chick I
don’t even know is doing a professor.”

“Instructor,” Cooper clarified. “You know we don’t
let them call themselves professors. Can’t let those fuckers get too uppity.”

“Whatever, man. You fucking gossip, but you didn’t
tell me about Lark.”

“I was going to make a big deal out of it, but
forgot. I’ve been trying to make a baby and it takes a lot out of me.”

When Farah glanced at me and rolled her eyes, I
couldn’t help laughing.

“You’re an idiot,” I told Cooper who shrugged
again.

“Hey, didn’t I tell you that Lark was your girl and
she would find a way back to you? I’m too fucking perfect sometimes. Wise like
Aristotle or Yoda.”

Farah turned and wrapped her arms around him. “I
feel fertile.”

“Wisdom turns you on, doesn’t it, baby?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Go,” I waved at them before taking the shot Farah
had long forgotten. “I’ll wait for you to finish your fertility rituals then
you can return and tell me the plan for the weekend. Oh, and feed me too. I was
promised barbecue.”

Cooper picked up Farah under the butt and started
for the stairs. “Soon, you’ll be walking around with a horny woman in your
arms,” Cooper yelled to me as he disappeared.

Smiling, I thought of Lark sneaking over to my
place. Not for a few hours, but the whole weekend. That wasn’t the move of a
girl testing the waters. That was the move of a girl staking her claim.
Little
Lark had taken her punch.

Bailey parked her SUV in the alley behind Aaron’s
house. I noticed a small building just past the tall wooden fence with a house
farther into the property. I’d seen this part of Ellsberg before and the homes
were old craftsmen style bungalows. Some were rundown while others were fixed
up and modernized.

“If shit gets weird and you want to bail,” Bailey
said as I grabbed my bag from the trunk, “call me and I’ll pick you up. I’ll also
smack Aaron around. Or if you want to smack him, I can hold him down for you.”

“I prefer the second one,” Aaron said, appearing through
the gate.

My heart leapt at the sound of his voice and it
didn’t slow down when I saw him. Aaron stood in jeans and a white beater
showing off a lot of muscles, tattoos, and kissable flesh. How did he manage to
get more beautiful with every meeting?

“Hi,” I said, feeling dopey in the presence of such
beauty.

“Ugh, get a room,” Bailey said, climbing back into
the SUV. “Be good, Aaron, or I’m coming back with tools of torture.”

“If you mean the music you listen to, I’m in
absolute terror and will behave.”

“Fuck off,” Bailey said with a grin before speeding
off like someone was chasing her.

We both smiled at her fleeing SUV then at each
other. Aaron glanced at where two little black and white dogs appeared behind
him.

“They’re excited to meet my muse,” he explained,
extending his hand to me.

“Your muse?” I murmured, grinning widely as I took
his warm hand. “If I was an artist, I have no doubt you’d be my muse. You
inspired me to be bad and hatch this plan to sneak off.”

Aaron kissed me gently, sucking softly on my
tongue. When his lips left mine, he kept me wrapped against him.

“I’ve always wanted to be a bad influence on someone.
Somehow, I always end up as the nice guy instead.”

“Nice guy is code for nerd. There is nothing nerdy
about you, Aaron,” I said, licking along the cobra on his neck.

“Hell, we’re going to get the neighbors talking,”
he whispered and tugged me past the fence to a small backyard.

As we headed inside, Aaron pointed out his studio
in the back and introduced his dogs.

“Do you want to order a pizza?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“What do you like on it?”

An idea occurred to me and I smiled wider. “Let’s
each write on a piece of paper what we want on the pizza. That way, we’ll be
honest and we can learn something about each other.”

Grinning immediately, Aaron walked to a table with
a stack of notebooks. He brought two back with him and handed me one.

“I used to play this game with Raven,” I explained.
“We would test each other to see how well we remembered each other’s favorite
things. We’d ask a question, write our answers, and show them. Like the
newlywed game for sisters. We could play the game without the test part, if you
want. Or does that sound stupid?”

“Nothing you say sounds stupid, Lark. I’m not your
shitty family.”

I took the notepad. “Let’s start with our dream
pizza. Be completely honest even if you like something gross. I want to know
you.”

Our eyes met and I knew later we would get to know
each other in a more intimate way. My body already warmed at the idea and I
knew my nipples were hard under my light pink tee. If Aaron noticed, he didn’t
show it. Yet, I suspected he was just that good at playing cool around girls.

Flopping on his comfy couch, I watched Aaron
consider where best to sit. He was thinking if he sat next to me that it might
seem too forward. If he sat too far away, he might seem distant. I think he was
aiming for a middle ground.

“Please, sit next to me,” I said and Aaron grinned.
“I missed you the last few days.”

Aaron’s smile faded and I saw genuine hunger in
those eyes. As he struggled to fake a relaxed smile, I knew he missed me too.
We’d both been waiting for someone special to steal our hearts and now we’d
found them. Waiting was killing us both, but a quick trip to the bedroom would
likely feel rushed after so much longing.

I wrote my list of favorite pizza toppings on my
paper as Aaron did the same. When done, we switched papers.

“Pineapple?” he said, grinning. “Really, Lark?”

“Typical guy. Your pizza toppings require someone
to slaughter Old McDonald’s farm.”

Aaron laughed then leaned over and gave us both a
taste of what we craved. The moment his lips touched mine, I cupped his smooth
cheeks and deepened the kiss. Aaron leaned farther over and his strong body
covered mine. For the next few minutes or hour or however long, we tasted and
explored and nothing else mattered.

My fingers slid under his shirt and I imagined the
tattoos my fingers were caressing. I wanted to see, but the idea of stripping
down on the couch felt wrong. Cheap maybe. It didn’t help that Professor and
Pollack where staring hardcore at us and panting like we were getting them
overheated.

Aaron finally pulled his lips away and the suction
sound of our mouths parting startled Pollack who stepped back. Professor
remained undaunted.

“Seriously, guys, give me a little space,” he said
and the dogs decided he wanted them to climb on the couch with us.

Laughing, I ran my fingers over Aaron’s damp lips.
“I can’t remember what we were doing before you came over to say hello.”

Aaron sat back and tugged me against him. “I think
we were discussing my love of animal products.”

Professor took my spot while Pollack acted like she
might attack the front door as teenagers hooted on the street.

“Don’t worry, Polly,” Aaron said, grabbing his
cell. “Deputy Dickhead will give them a lecture.”

Pollack growled at the kids then decided they might
not be able to hear her so she ran to the front door to make her voice heard.

As he searched for the number of the pizza place,
Aaron grinned. “My neighbor a few doors down is an Ellsberg deputy and he
thinks he’s top shit. There are two kinds of cops as far as I can tell. The
cops who believe in the system and the ones who believe in themselves. Deputy
Dickhead thinks he’s the law and his word is fucking set in stone. He’s always
sticking his bitch nose in everyone’s business.”

Aaron rolled his eyes and I saw he was genuinely
pissed. “If a neighbor complains about a dog barking too much, old dickhead
comes over to give that person a lecture. He tried giving me one about sitting
on the porch without a shirt. I told him to fuck off. Then, he gave me a
lecture about using profanity around children. My fucking neighbors are mostly
old people or teachers at the college. The youngest fucking person on the block
is sixteen and she cusses worse than I do. Logic doesn’t matter where Dickhead
is concerned. He’s a royal asshole and Pollack hates him. She nearly bit off
his damn finger that he wears a stupid fucking giant ring on. The ring is some
big deal and he tried to tell me about it, but I couldn’t give two shits about
his life. He’s why people hate cops.”

“You know what your problem is?” I said as he
texted our order for two pizzas – one meat lover, one Hawaiian.

“What?” Aaron muttered.

“You’re an introvert. You need to learn to open up
more about how you feel.”

Aaron laughed. “The guy pisses me off. He’s going
to shoot someone eventually or use a Taser on an old woman. Some fucked up
shit. There are just some people who shouldn’t be given a lick of authority,
let alone a gun.”

“Bossy men are the worst,” I said as my hand
disappeared up his tee. “My stepdads have always been assholes. It seems to be
the one thing all of the women in my family have in common. Bad taste in men.”
When Aaron caught my gaze, I smiled brightly. “I like being the exception to
the rule. It makes me special.”

“Fuck yeah, you are,” he said, kissing me then
hitting send on his text. “Pizzas will be here in a few minutes. Want to do
more of the newlywed thing or something else?”

Grinning, I straddled Aaron since Professor was
sound asleep in my old spot.

“We can do the question answer thing when the pizzas
get here. Let’s do something we can’t do when eating.”

Aaron wrapped his hands around my waist and
snuggled our hips closer. I ignored how hard he already felt. There was no time
for such concerns. The pizzas would arrive soon and I wasn’t interested in
rushing once our clothes were off. No, I hoped we would take our time.