FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (56 page)

Lexi

Once Ingrid was gone, the library seemed suddenly abandoned.  I hurried through the double doors and down the steps to the promenade between the library and the science building. 

Thank god I don't have to walk far
, I thought as I grimly turned into the wind. The snow that had been dancing only moments ago was now starting to blow sideways.  I trudged towards the commuter lot, grateful that I had arrived early enough this morning to snag a spot.  As I trudged, I pictured my mom maneuvering herself to the front window and standing there staring into the snow, as if by the power of her gaze she could make me appear on the doorstep. The thought made me move faster.

The early darkness of the approaching storm had caused the street lamps to turn on, but the swirling snow muted the pale circles of light.  I could still see the dim outlines of other commuters heading to the lot.  There seemed to be more than usual. I wondered if classes were cancelled because of the weather. I had only come in for my morning meeting and for that I was also grateful.

I hurried forward, but as I did, I sensed someone behind me.  My father's dire warnings about being followed echoed through my head and I turned nervously, my keys clutched in my fist, poised to lash out. There was a huddled figure about twenty feet behind me, hunched over in a too-thin black coat.

I recognized it as Sean's coat as he got closer.  I stopped short, hoping he wouldn't notice me and make things awkward. My heart hammered in my throat as I watched him trudge to his car. 

And just as I thought he was going to pass me without noticing, he lifted his head into the wind and stared.

I ducked and quickly crossed the last ten feet to my car.  I threw open the driver's side door and flung my bags into the passenger seat, then flopped low in the seat, slamming the door on the wind.

But still he stared at me.  His mouth worked slightly, shadowed by the streetlight.  I don't know what sort of things he was saying about me, if they were angry or hurt or just sad. 
Everyone is right.  I'm a cold, unfeeling bitch.  What is wrong with me?
  Sean was a good guy, a nice guy.  I could have very easily been his girlfriend in another life. 

He continued to look at me as I started the car.  There was something about his eyes tonight.  The way he was looking at me rattled me deeply and I couldn't place why. 

Guys only want one thing
, I reminded myself hollowly.  His eyes told me something different than my personal mantra.  He looked like he wanted to talk, to find out where we had gone wrong.  He looked shocked and hurt.

He looked like Casey.

With a lurch I realized that was exactly what had me so rattled. He was looking at me the same way Casey had looked at me the horrible morning.  Shocked, hurt, wanting an explanation that I couldn't bring myself to give.

Because I didn't have one, other than I was fucked up.

I was bad luck.

I peeled out of the parking space, spinning my wheels slightly on the ice.  I felt, rather than saw, Sean watch me go.  I took the corner too fast and fishtailed onto Callowhill and had to take a deep breath and remind myself.  Remind myself that Sean wasn't Casey.  Casey was gone and I was never going to get to apologize to him.  I was never going to be able to break the curse I had brought down on myself the day I ruined his family. 

I was never going to meet another boy like him, because there were no other boys like him. 

***

It was my twelfth stiflingly hot Philadelphia summer and fans weren't cutting it to keep my sisters and me cool.  My parents promised they were saving for a new window unit to replace the wheezing, sputtering one in the living room, but things were tight on my father's cop salary.  My mother had reluctantly agreed to take part time work in a dentist's office, instructing me very closely on how to stay safe on our summer vacation.

"You're my little mommy now, Lexi," she had smiled tiredly at me.

"I know I am," I had answered, half excited, half in fear.

"Don't open the door for strangers."

"Of course not," I scoffed.

"And don't leave the house."

But the AC wasn't working and we weren't allowed to go into my parents' bedroom, the only other place in the house that had a unit.  And the house was stifling.  And my sisters were whining.  And I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out of there.

"Let's go to the park!" I urged them, clapping my hands together.

Sarah had jumped up and down in six-year-old glee, but Mary looked at me shrewdly.  She was ten and believed that she didn't need a baby sitter, least of all me.

"Mommy said we weren't supposed to leave the house," she sing-songed in the most tattle-tale, middle sister voice she could muster.

I rolled my eyes.  "It's just the park," I scoffed.  "It's like five houses away."

"Eight," she corrected primly and I rolled my eyes again.

"You want to go, Sarah?" I turned to my bubbly baby sister.  She was always eager to tag along, no matter what.  She had a perpetual fear of being left behind.

"Yes, please!" she shouted, remembering her manners.

"That's two against one," I informed Mary.  "Majority rules."

When we stepped out into the neighborhood, I was suddenly wary.  My mother had explicitly told us not to leave the house.  We were sheltered Catholic school girls and there were bad people everywhere who wanted to steal us away from our parents. She knew this because my dad knew this and they had drummed it into my head too. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to flee back into the stifling house.

I couldn't lose face in front of Mary, and Sarah was looking at me with her adoring brown eyes.  She looked up to me, I remembered, and squared my shoulders. "Okay, let's go!" I said nonchalantly, carefully locking the front door with my newly acquired house key.

The playground was at the end of our quiet little block, butting right up against the park  I heard stories at school of the bad public school kids and what they did down in there near the Wissahickon Creek.  Swimming naked...and worse.  I shuddered with the thrill of morbid curiosity.

"Not so fast, Sarah!" I shouted.  She was sprinting pell mell down the cracked sidewalk, directly towards the path of a man walking towards us.  The weird old guy from the corner who never talked.  I felt my throat close tightly in panic and sprinted past the dawdling Mary to grab my baby sister's arm.

"Are you crazy?" I hissed, eyeing the man fearfully. "He could have snatched you!"

Her big brown eyes widened in horror and filled with tears.  I felt a weird satisfaction in terrifying her and kept talking.  "You need to stay close to me. Only I can protect you."

She nodded solemnly as Mary caught up.  "I told you this was a bad idea," she sing-songed, and I gritted my teeth.

"Okay let's go, but hold my hand."

I sighed with relief to see there wasn't anyone at the playground and released my iron grip on my sister's arm.  She gave a little squeal, her terror already forgotten in the sight of the huge metal slide

"I'm going on the swings," Mary told me in what my mother would term a 'snotty' tone of voice.  But the fact that she was telling me meant that she was finally deferring to my authority, and that was all I wanted.

"Be careful," I intoned, taking on my mother's habit of sighing the last syllable of each word. I stood rooted to the spot for a moment, my head swiveling between Sarah's shrieking glee at having the slide to herself and Mary's morose, half-hearted swinging.  I wasn't sure what my role was anymore.  Should I sit on the bench and watch them?  But I kind of wanted to swing myself.  But then I wouldn't be able to watch Sarah.

I was paralyzed with indecision, caught between being a kid and my role as little mommy, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement near the bushes.

Case

Her legs stuck out stiffly on either side of his face.  He felt her shudder and raise her hips off the desk.  "I'm coming!" she shouted.

I know
, he thought as she squeezed his face in a vise-like grip.  But he didn't stop.  He buried his tongue further into her.  He slipped his finger into her sopping wet center and hooked it forward, wiggling it in a little 'come here,' gesture.  Her muscles clamped tight around him and she bucked like a fish out of water on top of the desk.

"Fuck!" she screamed.  "Fuck! Fuck!"

Yeah that's next
.  He stood up and slid the rubber over his tip.  Her eyes were still rolling back in her head when he plunged himself inside of her.  She was tight and hot in all the right ways.  He thrust himself upward, hearing the wet smack of their bodies coming together.  This was the best part, right beforehand.  When he still knew he had them loving him.  When he was still the best thing that had ever happened. 

It lasted only as long as he did.  And this one had him all riled with her filthy mouth.  The tight bunching of his muscles turned into a full on spasm and he growled long and low as he spent himself inside of her.  She gasped out a few more tiny shrieks, rubbing up against him, crazy for more, crazy for him in this moment.

And then it was over.

"Fuck," she gasped one more time as he pulled himself away.  The sudden coolness hit him quickly.  He snapped the rubber off and flung it into the office trash can.  He would have to remember to take that out when she left.

Any minute now.

"Case," she sighed, trailing her finger down his jaw.  Her nail tickled the hairs of his beard still wet with her juices.  "Why you gotta be so good, hmm?"

He just shook his head.  He knew what was coming.

"Ugh, if only my husband could fuck me like that."

There it was.

He watched as the bliss on her face drained away, replaced by guilt.  Remorse.  Remorse for being with him. 

"Fuck," she repeated again, but this time there was no pleasure in hearing the word.  "I need to get home."

He leaned against the desk, tucking himself back into his jeans.  A paper fluttered from the desktop onto the wooden floor. 

"Case?" She looked stricken by his lack of speech.  But what did this bitch want?  Professions of his undying love?  She was a married housewife, bored and looking for adventure.  He was a biker, bearded and dangerous with a gift for fucking.  That was all the connection they had.

"What, Bobbi?" he sighed.

"Can I see you again?  Thursday maybe?"

Fuck if he was going to be kept waiting til then.  Let this bitch squirm a little.  "Got club shit to do," he growled.  Her expression changed to one of thrilled curiosity and he rolled his eyes inwardly.  He leaned in and brushed a casual kiss across her pouty lips.  Her full breasts were still exposed, and he allowed himself a tweak of her dark nipple. 

"I'll call you," he intoned.

He wouldn't.

She must have known that.  Her mouth opened and then closed, registering hurt.  He turned away and picked the paper up off the floor.  When he stood back up again, the bell over the front door of the shop was dinging. 

She was gone.

Good.

Case walked over to the customer bathroom and splashed some water on his face.  A little dab of handsoap to mask the scent of pussy in his beard. He needed a beer.

Lorraine in the morning and now Bobbi at lunchtime. And still his dreams had him all riled.  He stood in front of the sink for a second, then splashed a handful of water over his neck, rubbing his hand over the spot where Bobbi had bitten him. Long ago there had been a different, much sweeter pair of lips on that spot. Lips that had kissed him tenderly. With love and softness.

Shut the fuck up
, he told his brain.
Just shut up and let me have some goddamned peace.

Lexi,
his brain shouted louder.
Hunter and Jonah.  And Lexi, Lexi, Lexi.

He needed a fucking beer.  That would shut it up.

Case trudged through the back door that opened into the clubhouse.  Voices echoed off the high metal ceiling of the garage.  His brothers had gotten started with the drinking ahead of him.  Thank god.  That meant he would have to catch up.

Crash spied him first and hailed him with a boisterous, "What's up, motherfucker?"

Case grinned, grateful to silence the clamor in his head.  "She was indeed a mother," he nodded, reaching for the beer J. silently offered.  "Think she has two brats at home. Maybe three."
"She sure didn't have the mouth of a mother," J. observed as he sat back down in his camp chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. "Such language.   My virgin ears are deeply offended." Case laughed. "The fuck were you doing to her? I couldn't tell if she was enjoying it or trying like fuck to get away."

Case smiled and pulled up a chair for himself.  "I was doing what I do best," he intoned smugly, making both Crash and J. burst out laughing.  "It's true!" He pointed at each of the Sons of Steel in turn.  "J.'s good at wrenching, Mac's good at drinking, Teach is good at talking, Doctor D.'s good at doctoring." He leaned back and pointed at his own broad chest.  "Me? I'm good at fucking."

There was a pause. "What am I good at?" Crash asked, feigning hurt.

"I have no idea," Case shot back.

That earned another burst of laughter.  He sat back and listened to the wash of insults that were suddenly hurled back and forth and sighed in contentment. 

What he had in that brief moment with a woman, when their bodies entwined and they looked at him like he was the only thing that mattered, well that wasn't real.  As nice as it was, it never lasted.  It was never enough to put back the pieces of the life he was still trying to rebuild.  Brotherhood, that was the glue he needed. 

Since joining the Sons, that was what he was building.  A new life.  With new brothers.  A new family.

His family.