#Jerk (5 page)

He remains silent and I laugh in his face, ending our argument. Grabbing his arm, I hop off the stool and push him aside to head to the dance floor. Sober, there would be no chance in hell I would dance by myself, but what won’t kill me will make me stronger. That, and I just want to escape him.

The dance floor is stifling hot and bodies are squished together, forcing me to bump butts with a cougar beside me. She has to be at least fifty, dressed in the tightest leather pants I have ever seen, trying to tongue-wrestle a guy young enough to be her son. God help me, I don’t want to be single at fifty. What if I have to wear tight leather pants? This image is depressing, and all of a sudden my self-esteem has sailed away until Mr. Smokin’ Hot is dancing in front of me. I am pulled out of my mini-funk so fast I swear my kitty is twerking beside me. Just for a split second, the idea of having this gorgeous man inside me is sending signals to all the right
places.

I move in a little closer, and he leans in to whisper.

“You’re gorgeous. What’s your name?”

“Presley,” I respond in my seductive, yet intoxicated, voice.

The heat is radiating off his body and the closer I move in, the more excited I feel. He wraps his arms around my waist and just before our bodies touch, I am pulled into a different direction and the distance between us grows.
What’s happening
? Moments later, I am in the alleyway and Haden is standing in front of me, eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

“What the hell just happened?”

“I don’t get you!” he yells.

“What?” I am still looking at the door, confused and trying to understand what the hell just happened.

“You act all Miss Perfect, and then you’re on the dance floor like a tramp.”

“What did you just call me?”

He almost looks apologetic, but verbal diarrhea is hard to control (I should know). The bubbles of anger are simmering at the surface and I clench my fists, controlling my behavior as much as I possibly can. I’m not going to rule out the idea of smacking that pretty face of his again.

“God, you think it’s okay to punch people in the face?”

“You think it’s okay to bring someone down when they are already on the ground barely able to walk? The shit you said hurt, okay? I’ve been single for two minutes and I see my ex-fiancé with another woman! This was the guy I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I love him. I didn’t just forget what love is even if I called it quits.”

“Why did you call it quits?” he demands.

It’s a yelling match, and normally I would have told him to butt out. “Because I wanted more, okay? I don’t know what the hell that is and maybe I’m stupid for thinking that life wasn’t about being comfortable. I wanted excitement, kinda like punching you in the face.”

The laughter escapes me again and my fists relax, moving towards my stomach to control the stitch forming from the uncontrollable giggles.

“And you still think that’s funny?”

I bet it hurt; the swollen lip looks terrible on him and all I want to do is make it worse.

I have my devil suit on, pitchfork standing proud, and I play nasty.

I move my body forward and smash my lips onto his.             

Oh shit. Now it’s officially game over.

S
ometimes, in our wildest dreams, something extraordinary happens. A moment where you pinch yourself because you’re certain it’s just a dream, only to find out it is in fact reality.

When I was eight, my mom dragged me to a shopping mall where the cast of
Dallas
was appearing. Never had I seen my mom so excited to meet a bunch of old folk that apparently were royalty in the soap opera world. My dad found it both hilarious and pathetic but gave her some extra spending money to buy a new dress, should she be lucky enough to get a photo.

I never forgot the moment when one of the lead actors asked a question to the crowd, picked my mom to answer, then welcomed her up onto the stage. Every woman in that overcrowded shopping mall was green with envy. On the car ride home (and days continuing) it was all she could talk about. Her wildest dream came true and maybe, one day, if I was fortunate enough, it could happen to me.

I wasn’t aspiring to meet the cast of
Dallas
but I had high hopes that the cast of
Melrose Place
would make it out to Virginia. It never happened of course.

Making out with Haden Cooper—the biggest jerk to walk the planet—is not my wildest dream. Yet everything about what is happening between us in this dark and secluded alleyway is the wildest thing to happen to me. Dreams and reality become a hazy fog.
What the hell am I doing?
Purposefully, I move my hands towards my thigh, pinching myself in hopes that it’s all a dream, but low and behold, each pinch only causes me to scowl as his lips press hard against mine.

It was supposed to cause him pain. So why the hell is he kissing me back?

I try to pull away, but he has my body pinned against the dirty brick wall and my head is telling me to kick the Jerk in the balls. What the fuck is that thing my body is doing?

It’s becoming soaking damn wet and you’re thinking about all the places he could stick that tongue in.

I bite his lip with slight force, coercing him to pull away, but his body is pressed hard against mine and like ice, my body is melting under his touch. I know this is wrong, yet something is happening that excites me in a way I have never experienced.
I loathe him
. He is annoying and his sole purpose on this earth is to push my buttons.

And he just happens to be pushing the right ones
.

His tongue is circling mine at a slow yet intense pace, teasing it enough to make me moan. I am unable to pull away now, and surprise even myself with my hands moving towards his hair, tugging it until he grunts in my mouth. These sounds are foreign and the excitement is overwhelming, my panties soaked with a persistent throb.

I know I have too much pride to ever allow this to happen, and slowly coming to my senses, I make a proper attempt at moving my mouth away from his and using my upper body to twist out of his grip. Of course it is fruitless, and with a forceful body slam, his groin is pressed against me so hard that I feel it throbbing, exciting me further.

Pulling his lips back, his warm breath smothers the air between our faces. “
This,”
he says, with a low rumbling growl,
“is payback for smashing my face.”

This beautiful yet damaged face is only inches away from mine and so close that I can count the tiny freckles along the bridge of his nose. His lashes are long and curl just above his hazel eyes. Even as we stand in the dark (and I am heavily intoxicated) the color of his eyes have this shimmery light speckle that I have never noticed before. Well, why would you notice? You’re too busy telling him to shove it where the sun don’t shine. So, no point giving him a bigger head (excuse the pun) and telling him how pretty he is. Give it back—jerk style.

“You deserved it,” I tell him, catching my breath in between his ravenous kisses.

“Then you, Malone…deserve this.”

Against the wall in the dark and dirty alley, he pulls my dress above my thigh, scratching my skin as he clasps his grip firmly on my ass. I beg myself to stop this madness, but the desire has driven me into such a blissful paradise that my body is in full control. His kisses are heavy against my neck as I arch to the right, giving him free reign to my sensitive spot.  My body is sinking further, my pumps barely able to hold myself up with my legs quivering in anticipation.

It’s just the alcohol making me want him.

It’s a rebound.

You just want to forget Jason was with another woman.

You’re an idiot and will regret this.

What was that last part my brain was saying?

The frenzy in his touch drives me to move my hands inside his shirt, and his body, cool as steel, is sculpted with lean muscle. I want him inside me; the thought is dangerously exciting and
very
off limits. I feel the ache inside me, hungry for him to fill me and take me to places that previously only existed in my wildest imagination.

“You are such a fucking tease, Malone. You know that?”

“I don’t tease, you’re just greedy and can’t help yourself.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he tells me, running his teeth along my lobe.

I can’t even hold a conversation here, not when his hands have moved into my dress and are squeezing my breasts in a desperate plea. His constant rub against my nipples is driving me insane, and I am
this close
to stripping in the cool night’s air so he can suck on them like the hungry beast he is.

I lose my train of thought and giggle. Fueled by the alcohol, I struggle to stop making my skin feel so highly sensitive with every flick of his tongue. He lets me go and my laughter stops. He produces a silver foil packet and my body tenses immediately. Is this really happening? There is no turning back….back away right now, Presley! My pathetic pleas are soon forgotten as he slams his lips against mine while fiddling with his belt buckle.

He is off limits.

Think of the consequences!

You’re giving him what he wants. Unless of course…you make this about what
you
want.

What the hell do I want?

I want to be lost in a moment, drowning in ecstasy, and reminded why I gave up everything I had worked so hard for. Roll around in the green, green grass that is
supposed
to be on the other side.

But reality knocks me out cold, and in the distance I hear the noise of the night traffic; even then, the tearing of the packet is the only sound I focus on.

I can tell him to stop.

You don’t want him to stop, you horny bitch.

“Relax, I’ll make you forget he ever existed.”

And with that, he enters me as I fight for air. His entire cock is buried inside, leaving me breathless as my body adjusts to his size. I close my eyes, focusing on the sensations rather than making eye contact with him; a part of me knows I will regret this once sober.

Something feels different—odd, yet arousing.  He takes his time, easing in and out, but even then I sense his struggle.
He wants it rough.
He wants to fuck you like a jackrabbit. Wasn’t that what he said? Knowing that he is desperate to unleash his savage desire, I open my eyes and focus on his face. His eyes have met mine and something odd passes between us. It’s a silent agreement that this is a one-time release, a tension fuck, and both of us have our reasons for doing it.

He wants me to forget Jason.

And all I’m thinking is,
Jason
who?

With my face in his hands, he thrusts inside me in sync with the roll of his tongue as I moan helplessly into his mouth, unfamiliar with the pressure down below. It climbs so fast that I feel possessed within my own skin.

“Is this more?”
he grunts in my ear, plunging deeper into me. The jagged edge of the brick wall is scratching my skin.

I’m barely able to string a sentence together.
“More what?”

He slows down, easing in and out at a teasing pace.
“You wanted more, is this the more you wanted?”

I have no idea what he is talking about due to the bottle of wine and God knows how many other drinks I had at the bar. It clicks a few moments later, and like my conscience has been freed from wearing handcuffs, there is a moment of clarity and all I can see is Jason’s face.

“I can’t…I can’t do this,”
I mumble.

Haden stops, and under his glasses, his eyes are raging in fury.

“You will do this. You know how much shit you give me in the office? You’re begging for me to fuck you hard. This is what you need, Presley. You need to be fucked so hard that you will never
ever
forget this moment.”

His stern voice, almost demanding, turns any fear I had into raw, heated, unadulterated excitement. I do the most unexpected thing, dropping to my knees and ripping the rubber off so that his cock is bare in front of me.

Sweet Jesus! The silver barbell is shining so bright, pierced directly into the tip of his cock. I have never seen one, let alone been fucked by one, which totally explains why it feels so different.

“Like what you see?”

It’s not a question, rather the cocky bastard thinking he is some sex god because I can’t stop staring at it. I’m drunk, I know, but fuck me dead, his cock is so full and…large.
No fucking wonder you were screaming in pleasure.

I take it in my mouth, slowly then forcefully, and watch him crumble. The moans escape his mouth are hidden pleas, begging me to take him in further. The second his tip hits the back of my throat, I use my hands to control the speed, all the while stroking him.

He is completely losing control.

Serves him fucking right.

His hands move to the back of my head. With his fingers running through my hair he moans loudly, and in a sudden move he pushes me away, turning me around to face the brick wall.

“Fucking tease. Now it’s payback.”

Another foil packet rips, and he re-enters me in just one short breath.

There is no holding back as he slams inside me; this time his thrusts are hard and fast without any delicacy. I beg him to fuck me harder, surprised by my own words, and he obeys with a brush against my clit that throws my body into a complete meltdown.

“I feel you. You want to come, Presley?”

I nod, not sure if words actually come out of my mouth.

He gives a final thrust with the loudest groan and just when I’m about to see stars, on the brink of orgasmic paradise, he pulls out of me and my buzz is gone.

What the fuck?

I don’t turn around instantly, allowing my brain to catch up with reality. My heart is thumping like a jackhammer, my breathing out of control as my lungs struggle to coordinate with my brain.

Did he just…?

The sound of his zipper being pulled up alarms me, followed by a gentle kiss on my bare shoulder. Without seeing his face, his breath lingers against my ear as he whispers,
“Now you know how it feels.”

And then it clicks. As I turn around, I instinctively cover my breasts with my hands and attempt to adjust my dress.

He walks towards the motorcycle parked beside the door and climbs on. With his helmet in his hand, he blows me a kiss, then places his helmet on and jumps on the accelerator. He rides off with a rev of the engine, leaving me alone in the alley.

I watch him drive off, all the while thinking this is some fucking horrid nightmare.
Did he just fuck me then leave me hanging without a happy ending?

I stomp my feet in frustration, screaming out into the air, “YOU FUCKING JERK!”

What have I just done?

I don’t have a second to think any longer, vomiting profusely onto the ground before I am rescued by a worried Vicky and taken home.