Get Bent (17 page)

“Almost decked the bitch behind the counter,” I tell Naomi when she accepts the plastic bag from me with a frown on her face. Ronnie ducks out right away and says he's going on recon. I assume that means the old whore is off to find a bang and some gossip, but I don't say anything about it. I'm changing, so maybe he is, too? Those in glass houses shouldn't chuck rocks or whatever, right? “She tried to give me some bullshit religious mumbo jumbo speech about contraception. Fuck her.”

I give Naomi a once-over as she leans over the tabletop and slides the box from the bag, reading the text on the back of the tiny cardboard packaging. Obviously Ronnie fished through my drawer to get her some clothes because she's decked out in a pair of my black skinny jeans, belted up at the waist with a baggy Amatory Riot tee over the top. No bra and I expect no underwear unless she's wearing some of my briefs. My cock gets rock solid and starts to interrupt signals from my brain to the rest of my body. Tricky little motherfucker.

“Take one pill within seventy-two hours of unprotected sex,” she reads as I drop into the seat and do my best to control myself. Not exactly the right time to hit on a chick when she's reading the emergency contraceptive instruction manual. I make sure that I still have some condoms in my pocket for later. “Take the second twelve hours after the first.” Naomi pops a white pill out of the foil and takes it down with a swig of orange juice. “At least it's not friggin' rocket science,” she says as she tucks the other away in the back pocket of her jeans. She swipes some blonde hair over her shoulder and glares at me. “And you don't have herpes?”

I unbutton my pants and expose myself, watching as her eyes catch on my dick and hold there.

“Not since I last checked.” Naomi rolls her eyes and pretends not to be interested. But I know she can feel the heat between us. Even with the air conditioning running full blast, it's not enough to keep the windows back here from fogging up. I reach back and twist the handle on the blinds to let in a bit of light. The sunshine highlights her perfect cheekbones, her moist lips, her gorgeous eyes. They look orange this morning, not brown. Just orange. Like flames.
I want to be incinerated.

“Turner,” she says and her voice drops low, gets real serious. I button my pants back up, feeling kind of, sort of like a complete tool. I feel awkward around her now. I'm just going to admit it, like she's an angel and I'm … I don't know. A devil? She's become this mystical
thing
, this far off goal I've been reaching for, lamenting at the same time I'm celebrating, and now she's just here. I imagine myself like a nerdy kid in high school, trying to grope his first tit. I feel all wonky right now like I have no clue how to seduce a woman.
I feel like a damn virgin.
“That can't happen again. I mean, I can't even believe it
happened.
I was in a weird place last night. I feel better today.” She sighs and sits down across from me, leaning forward and putting her elbows on her knees. “My experience wasn't so bad, but it could've been worse, Turner. They were gearing up for
bad.
I know it. I could fucking smell it.” She touches two fingers to her nose and drops her hand back in her lap. Her eyes dart to the parted blinds, and I know they're making her nervous, so I close them again and drop the room back into shadow.

“So let's find these fuckers and put them out of their misery,” I say, leaning back all casual like. Truthfully, I still just want to touch her, feel her skin, make sure she's really here, that she wasn't carted away in that ambulance and slapped on a cold slab, marked like a biological specimen. Instead, I lean over and pull out a drawer that's under the bench seat. When the space is this tight, things get interesting. There are drawers all over this place. Just so happens this one's got some killer shoes in it. “I'll be your eyes and ears, beautiful. You tell me what you want from me and you got it.”

“A wig,” she says, and I glance up with a smile.

“Kinky.” Naomi sighs and puts her hands on her hips.

“I need to be able to go out with you, see things for myself. I'm not going to sit here in the back of your bus like a doormat, waiting for one of your bandmates to find me here crouched and shivering. I have to take action, Turner. That's what I do. I take charge and I make sure that I'm taken care of. There's nobody else around to do it for me.”

“Until me,” I say and I toss her a pair of shoes. They're mine, so they're a little big, but they'll have to work for now. Naomi catches the black sneakers and gives me a harsh look. I notice that she doesn't get within three feet of me. Is it because she can feel that passion between us? Because she's afraid to want me? Or because she's disgusted by it.
God, I hope not.

“I'm not a damsel in distress, Turner,” she says, slamming the soles of the shoes on the table. Her ankle tat peeks out at me from the under the jeans and for the first time ever, I get to stare at it while she's distracted. I figure this chance might not come along ever again, so I take it and run with it.

Turner Dakota Campbell
is scrawled across her foot just under her ankle bone, where the gauze bandages wrap. Done up in red with two black knives crisscrossed behind my middle name. Guess I was her first in more ways than one. The tattoo's a little amateur, but there's something romantic about the soft lines and blurred coloring. Unconsciously, my hand reaches up and slides over my shoulder. Naomi notices and turns away, blocking my view.

“You might not be a damsel in distress,” I tell her, trying to keep my breathing slow and steady. I'm a bit sweaty today, a bit messed up from
not
being messed up if you know what I mean. “But there's no way for you to walk around with me and not get noticed. A wig won't do it, babe.”

“Why's that?” she snaps, and I stand up, moving closer to her, brushing against her back just enough that our clothes catch, kiss cotton threads and fuck us hard with the magnetism of our body heat, begging us to clash, to intertwine like we did last night and never let go. Goddamn and
fuck.
I don't want Naomi to take that pill. I want to make little Campbell babies with her and put a ring on her finger and walk her down the aisle, all of that fairytale shit. It's so bad now I'm starting to wonder if I've gone insane. This love at first sight crap isn't easy to deal with. I go from wanting to punch the chick to wanting to marry her? Kind of weird.

I pinch open the blinds, so she can see the mass of reporters. Her eyes get big and her lip curls.

“I thought all of that roaring was a TV or something,” she says, sounding horrified. It did just sort of happen overnight. We went from mediocre popularity to all out stardom in a week. As soon as Naomi resurfaces and reveals that she's still alive and well, she's going to be declared a saint. “What in the cock sucking Christ?” I laugh and the motion of my breath ruffles her hair. She shivers and well, fuck man, but that's all she wrote.

Naomi spins and our mouths clash, our hands grab and we're suddenly pressed together so tight that it'd take a freaking power tool to pry us apart. I breathe her in and she tastes me; I touch her breasts and she cups my crotch. I can't get to her fast enough, can't drink her in deeply enough.

“I'm so confused,” she moans as she slides down to the bench and I follow, getting between her legs, tugging at her jeans. She tangles her fingers in my hair as I unbuckle the belt and pull the denim over her hips. Her pussy is right there in my face, blonde hair, swollen and wet.
Fuck.
I kiss it hard and she moans, spreading her knees open for me, letting me in. With one hand, I slip my fingers in her cunt and with the other, I stroke my raging cock.

“Don't be,” I whisper against her heat, gritting my teeth with the effort of staying here, on my knees. I've never done this for any other woman. Turner Campbell does not fucking do the knee thing. But Naomi isn't just a woman, she's a rock goddess, a slice of fury, a ball of take no shit rage and beauty.
God. I'm going crazy here.
“Just fucking live it.”

“I hate you,” she whispers, but I don't know what those words mean right now. They're garbled and full of confusion, messy and twisted. I want to hear an
I love you
from her, but if it were so easily had, maybe I wouldn't be so willing to work for it?
I love you, Turner Dakota Campbell
rings in my head, an echo of a memory, some ghost from a distant past. One day, I'm going to lie down and remember everything that happened between us that first night, write it all down somewhere or something, prove to her that it's there, buried in me somewhere.

“Hate me all you want,” I tell her as I breathe against her swollen clit. It's like a rock now, solid as my dick. “But you're going to moan while you're doing it.” And then I kiss her where the sun don't shine. My tongue moves up her wet crack, moistening her even though she doesn't need any help. I lick around my fingers and then slide them out, tasting her as I go. When I grab her hips and press my lips to her clit, my fingertips burn, melting away the whorls and the lines, taking away my identity and mixing it with hers. And even though I know I'm a self-assured, self-centered asshole, it feels good to be this close to another person.

Naomi moans, low and deep, raising her hips to my face, pressing herself against me. It's almost too much to bear. I want to stand up and thrust my cock inside of her, feel her warm and hot around me, grinding her ridges against my shaft. But if I pride myself on anything, it's on being a good lover, and I haven't exactly shown her my skills. There are
some
pluses to being a dirty fucking whore. Or stud as I prefer to call it.

“You sick son of a bitch!”

The door behind me flings open and in walks Dax, grabbing me by the shirt as I turn around and slamming me into the table. I don't even think, just swing, hitting him in the cheek so hard I hear a
crack.
He stumbles back into Ronnie who's giving me a
shit, I'm sorry
look over his shoulder.

Dax comes back at me quick, taking advantage of my addled state and giving me a good one right in the fucking nose. Blood dribbles from my nostrils before Naomi shouts at us to stop and steps in between us, hands outstretched, pants belted back up around her hips. Me, my erect cock is still hanging out of my pants and my face is wet with Naomi's juices. Great. Perfect time to be interrupted.

“Dude, what the fuck?” I ask, dashing away blood as Dax holds a hand to his cheek and gapes at Naomi. He's actually wearing clean clothes today, another gay emo outfit with skeletons and shit on it. His dark hair hangs over his eyes and obscures some, but not nearly all, of the complete and utter shock he's going through.

“Oh my … fuck.” That's all he can get out. The blood dribbles into my mouth as I watch the play of emotions between Dax and Naomi. He goes from angry to confused to
enraged
and then straight up to sobbing. He reaches out and she accepts a hug from him. When they part, they're both smiling. I tuck my dick away and try not to get jealous. “I … I … ” Dax rubs at his eyes with his black fingerless gloves. The knuckles spell out the words
Lost
and
Love
. I scowl and look away.

“I thought we agreed to bring Dax in, so I took advantage of the empty bus to bring him over here.” Ronnie scratches at his head and leans against the wall. He's got on another shirt from one of his kids, a different one this time. I think this one's from his oldest daughter. It says
When times get tough, I get tougher.
Cute. “Didn't expect you two to be pullin' a nooner on me. Shit.” Ronnie gets out a smoke.

“I don't … know what to say,” Dax whispers, putting his hands over his face and looking at Naomi through teary eyes.
Fucking pussy.
I scowl at him, but he doesn't notice. He's too busy scoping out my woman. “How did you get here?
When
did you get here?” At this, his gray eyes flick to mine for a split second, like Naomi's absence in his life is, at least partially, my fault.

“Fuck.” I wipe my hands down my face. My dick is so hard it might as well be made of friggin' stone. I want to grab Naomi and slide myself into her, feel her breath against my ear, her arms around my neck. “Good God,” I groan and Naomi elbows me in the stomach. Miraculously, I don't get angry with her. I'm getting a lot better at controlling my emotions. In the past, getting hit, even jokingly would spike my rage. Not today. Today I'm just horny as shit.

“Don't be a fucking asshole,” she whispers as she puts her hands on her hips and looks at the floor. She's gauging how much she wants to tell Dax. Personally, I'd go with nothing and kick his stalker ass off the bus. But then I remind myself that bringing him in was
my
idea. Dax loves Naomi. That much is pretty obvious, so he's a safe bet. He'll do anything for her. I just hope I'm right about him, that it doesn't go any further than that. “Dax, you can't tell anybody about this, do you understand?” Dax drops his hands from his face and nods, sucking in a big breath and shaking his head like he's trying to clear it.

“God, Mi, I can't even believe you're still alive. When I saw the blood and the bodies, I just … something inside of me died that day.” He puts a hand to his chest and looks at her with such deep fucking longing. It makes my hackles raise and my stomach hurt. A small speck inside of me feels sorry for the guy while the rest of me just wants to beat the shit out of him.

“Mi?” I ask, getting out my own cig. If I can't suck on Naomi's sweet pussy, I'm going to eat a whole field of friggin' tobacco. Nobody pays me any attention.

“Dax, do you understand what I'm saying? Hayden is a part of this. She can't know I'm here.” Dax nods and drops his hands to his hips, mimicking Naomi's pose. He doesn't seem at all surprised to hear her say that.

“I figured she had more going on than she was saying. I mean, her story was true, but it wasn't, you know? I mean, there are parts of it where you can just feel the emotion. The rest seems hollow.” Dax lets his eyes trail Naomi's body, up and down and back again. “God, I'm sorry, I'm just … I'm trying to adjust to this. I think I'm in shock. I mean, here you are. You're alive and the only asshole that actually believed you were was this stupid fucker.”