Fighting Lust: A Deadly Sins Novel (4 page)

When I pass the living room and take in our big tan couch, with pillows strewn about and an afghan thrown across the back, I feel a momentary longing to just kick back, and get comfortable. I can see myself, warm tea in hand, book in my lap, fuzzy socks and pj’s on and curled up – relaxed, soothed. But, then my other dark and twisted yearning rears its ugly head and snaps me out of the daydream - reality consuming my thoughts and decisions. With one last glance toward the couch, I continue down the hallway to my bedroom.

Passing Gina’s room, through the open doorway, I see clothes strewn across the room. Her favorite perfume lingers in the air and I can’t help but smile. She and I have been friends since high school and she’s worn that scent for years. It’s familiar and comforting in its own right. Kicking my shoes off as I enter into my room, I recall when we met. I was hiding behind the bleachers smoking a cigarette, a nasty habit I’ve since kicked, and she appeared out of seeming nowhere and bummed a cigarette off of me. We sat together and made fun of the gym class students that were being forced to run a mile for class that day. I never knew making fun of people running around a track could be so entertaining. She invited me to her house that night to hang out, and wanting to be anywhere but at my own house, I happily agreed. We were inseparable after that. My mom always thought she was a bad influence, even asked my brother to keep a close eye on me, but I just laughed when she made comments and my brother could have cared less who I spent my time with.

While I got state funds and went to nursing school, she went to beauty school. She’s always kept me abreast of the latest makeup trends, but her specialty is waxing. It cracks me up, but she loves it. And I’ve got to say, she’s really great at her job, which my sensitive skin appreciates. The people she meets and the stories she tells have kept me laughing. Especially during late night study binges when I wanted to just throw in the towel and forget having a nursing career at all.

I miss my friend. Our schedules have been pretty crazy lately, so I haven’t seen her much. We need to make hanging out a priority – and soon. Restarting my pace, suddenly aware that I had stopped in my tracks, I continue moving toward my room, removing the clothes I changed into just minutes ago, and finish the task as I cross the entryway. This time it’s to trade them for a sexy black dress. It’s low cut in the front, backless, and falls just above my knees. Sliding my feet into my favorite red-bottomed black stilettos, I sit at my vanity and apply my makeup with a heavy hand. I’m careful not to look at myself too closely while painting my face - I’m not in the mood to see my soul crying through my eyes. I’m not giving into that tonight.

Finishing quickly, I fluff my hair, gloss my lips, and throw the necessities into a small black purse. Leaving, I lock the door behind me then stand on the threshold for a moment, but before I can change my mind, I leave. Jetting back to my car, I start it, but before taking off, I plug in my phone and pick a sexy beat. Setting it to thump from my speakers, I tap out a beat on my leg as I make my way to my destination.

Once I arrive, I’m inside the bar, Green Apple, and have a drink in my hand in record time. The bartender smiles with recognition, “Hi Tina,” he says calling me by what he thinks is my name. “What can I get you tonight? The usual?”

“Sure, Craig, that would be great,” I give him a sultry smile and he returns it, but I know from experience he isn’t interested. He’s a no play at work kind of guy and I get it and respect it. The flirtations he blesses me and everyone else with are just part of his bar persona. I can’t imagine the number of women that don’t understand that though. It would be fun to guess how many phone numbers he wracks up in an evening.

He places a gin and tonic in front of me and I pay him with a ten-dollar bill and a smile. Taking a seat, I make sure I’m showing plenty of leg and sip my drink as I bide my time. My body soaks up the music that’s thumping through the bar, and I enjoy the vibrating and tingling the bass creates. It doesn’t take long for a blonde-haired, green-eyed man to sidle up next to me. He smiles widely, his eyes glassy indicating he’s had more than a couple drinks tonight. He wastes no time tracing my body with his eyes, making his intentions clear. I return his smile thinking,
bingo
.

Several minutes later, we are in the alley behind the bar. My dress is pulled up to my waist and Dan, or is it Ben, pumps into me. My back is scraping against the brick wall behind me, and I can feel small drops of blood making their way down my spine. I hold onto that, reveling in the pain, in the simple act of
feeling
. Something. Anything.

He tries to kiss me, but I turn my head away. His breath is rancid with alcohol and usually, I don’t go there. Instead, he buries his head in my neck and his breaths come in pants. When it’s over, he’s quiet as he awkwardly places himself back in his pants. I’m not one for forced conversation, so I just smile a smile I don’t at all feel, wink and walk away.

Later, when I’m back in my room, I strip the clothes from my body and finally allow myself a look in my full-length mirror. Taking in my messy hair, smeared makeup, and hollow eyes, I turn to look at my scratched up back. It’s apparent that the shoulder blade area has been bleeding a little. There’s a fine line of dried blood curving down my backbone and a spot still seems to be slightly oozing. As I stare at it, my eyes start to sting, but instead of crying, I do the exact opposite. A laugh bursts from my throat, which at first takes me by surprise. Before I can reflect on it long, I’m laughing hysterically, but without real humor, my stomach aching with the effort.

The fact that this raw, angry spot completely represents how I feel on the inside more than I could ever verbally express, suddenly seems hysterical. Holding my stomach and covering my mouth with the opposite hand, my giggles subside and I try to catch my breath. When my laugh cuts off and turns into a choked sob, I turn away from the mirror. Falling into bed, I pull the covers over my naked body, and let regret seep into my pores like it always does after encounters like tonight. As a tear falls down my face, I close my eyes and wonder when enough will finally be enough.

She walks with a sexy sway to her hips, long red hair thrown over her shoulder, heavy breasts bouncing with her movements, and her chin held high with confidence. Those attributes alone are powerfully attractive enough, but combined with curves for days and a cherry painted mouth that makes a man envision what he wants it wrapped around, I’m definitely curious. And then when she smiles and laughs at something the bartender says as he serves her a drink, my radar is locked and loaded. She’s got my full attention.

Right there I tell myself, she’s going home with me tonight. I can already picture her naked underneath me, face twisted in ecstasy, her hair a bold red stain on top of my white cotton sheets. My body responds to the thought and I continue to watch her. As if she feels my gaze, she turns, her eyes meeting mine. When they connect, something shoots through me I’ve never felt before. Lust, sure, but something else, something indefinable. We’re both unable to look away at first, but eventually she drops her gaze when the bartender says something else to her When she smiles at him in thank you, I feel a twinge of jealousy that he’s the recipient of that sweet, seductive, radiant gleam.

While I may be sitting at a table with a group of guys – conversation, laughs, and drinks flowing around me – everything about me is attuned to her. She doesn’t blink without me noticing. I’m simply biding my time until I can make my move while keeping half an ear on the talk around me so they don’t notice my lack of attention.

“Dude, did you hear what I said?” Cole asks with a lift of his brows. Whoops, guess I’m not doing such a good job after all. Taking a sip of my drink, I meet his eyes, “You said you think you need to increase the times per week you work out your legs. Yes, I heard you.”

He nods and continues to tell me why he’s determined that this strategy will bolster his likelihood of take-downs, but I only listen to half of what he’s saying. Appraising all the guys around the table, I smile. Cole, Dylan, Zane, Jax, Levi, Tyson, and I decided to get a few drinks after finishing a rather long training session tonight. We’ve got a big fight coming up and we’ve been training our asses off every night this week. I’ve had to work around my schedule, but it’s imperative. When Jax, owner of the gym and trainer for us all except Cole, suggested we grab a few beers, we were all game. Empty calories be damned, we still have time to work it off before weigh in. It’s time for a break.

Zane clears his throat next to me purposefully drawing my attention, “Why don’t you just go talk to her?”

Smirking, I’m amused at his intuitiveness but shake my head no. “Soon.” I’m not surprised he noticed me studying the firecracker across the room - nothing gets by him. He pretends to stay out of people’s business but really he’s listening and analyzing all the time.

“What was that? Ryder’s narrowed in on his latest conquest?” Dylan asks clearly having overheard Zane. Before I can respond, Levi chimes in, “Oh, what do we have this time? Blonde? Brunette? Or maybe you’re changing things up and she’s got blue hair?”

“Blue hair?” I ask.

“Don’t knock the colored hair chicks, dude. They’re hot,” Zane adds.

“Dude, so true. One night, I hooked up with this chick that had pink stripe things in her hair, and she did this thing with her tongue-”

“No one wants to hear it, Levi,” Jax cuts him off with a stern look and shake of his head, ever the paternal influence

“Speak for yourself, dude,” Dylan says laughing as Levi turns to him to continue his story.

Tyson grins and stands, “Well gentlemen, that’s all for me. I’m headed home to my girl.” Tyson and his girlfriend Sydney recently got engaged. They spend all of their available time together, and the fact that he came out tonight at all is a bit of a surprise. Jax too for that matter. His girlfriend is Tyson’s sister Rowan. Neither of them comes out with us as much as they used to. Can’t say I blame them. I get it. I remember all too well.

Jax stands too, relief clear on his face to be leaving. Plus, no doubt he’s happy he’s not the first to bail on us, thereby avoiding the ribbing he’d receive. I stand as well and give them a nod as I decide to take this opportunity to take a piss. “See you guys tomorrow,” I wave.

Jax puts a hand on my shoulder stopping me as he says to all of us, “Listen up bastards, I know you all are off work tomorrow – some just schedule lucky, some because it’s the weekend. Be at the gym at nine sharp. No excuses. I want an early start.”

Everyone nods, not really surprised by his words, although Levi curses under his breath making me chuckle. We’re all used to Jax’s rigid training schedule, and with a fight so close we expect his expectations to escalate.

In the bathroom, I quickly do my business and am at the sink washing my hands while staring at the graffiti on the walls when I hear someone enter. I ignore them initially and turn to grab a paper towel to dry my wet hands. When the sound of the dead bolt locking reverberates around the room, I look over my shoulder and stop dead. My mouth falls open as the redhead I was eye fucking in the bar stands there staring at me, a small smile on her full red lips. Blinking rapidly, I momentarily wonder if I’m seeing things. Turning to face her fully, I watch her apprehensively, and eagerly as she walks toward me. She’s got legs for the days, and the shoes she’s wearing tap out a beat with each step she takes.

When she reaches me, I finally manage to open my mouth to give voice to the question on my lips, but she places a single finger over it. Shaking her head, she gives me a seductive smile making it clear she doesn’t want me to say a word. She raises her brows, a silent question, and I nod indicating my willingness to comply.