Take Your Time (Fate and Circumstance #2) (13 page)

“Are you gonna try to tell me you don’t do this often? Huh? Play the innocent card, the good-girl act? Because I’ll tell you right now, sweetheart, I’m not buying it. In fact, I’ll bet money that you came here all by your lonesome, that you never had a friend meeting you here. No one bailed on you. Except maybe a boyfriend, and this is your way of getting back at him.” He didn’t say it maliciously, but it felt like an insult nonetheless.

I decided to cut the crap and give it to him straight—well, as straight as I’d get with him. “I had no intention of playing the innocent, goodie two-shoes. If that was my angle, I wouldn’t have given in so quickly to leave with you. But you’re wrong about one thing. I was supposed to meet my friend, and she did cancel. So what else was I supposed to do? I was already here, might as well try to get laid. Right?”

“Ah…the shit I wanna do to that mouth.”

“And the shit I want you to do with yours,” I said with a smirk, anticipating that a little dirty talk might spark something within me.

“Hurry up and finish that drink, sweetheart.”

I leaned all the way over until my lips grazed his ear. “And you couldn’t be more wrong about the boyfriend assumption. This isn’t to get back at anyone. It’s because I like to fuck. Hard.”

A growl rumbled through his chest as I slowly backed away, and then I used my tongue to find my straw for another sip. His pupils dilated, showing his hunger for me, and it fueled my confidence, making me feel invincible. But it still didn’t do anything to elicit the excitement I’d need to leave with him.

“Let me go freshen up in the ladies’ room, and then we can go.”

He didn’t even bother to respond, only bit down on his lip, baring his teeth, and then watched me get off the stool through his half-lowered eyelids. The moment I stood on both feet, a warm fuzziness filled my head, which usually made me feel good, but not this time. It actually had me questioning myself like an internal alarm system.

I quickly made it to the sink in the bathroom and splashed cool water on my face. I glanced up at my reflection, shocked at the eyes that stared back at me. They were mine, but seemed so lost. The girl in front of me wasn’t me at all. I was always the one in the group to laugh the loudest, to smile the biggest, and the rock when anyone needed it. But the girl in the mirror, she wasn’t that person at all. Her brown eyes were so dull, as if her soul had given up. You could no longer see the smile lines next to her eyes because the dark circles beneath them became the focal point. Her pouty lips were soft and smooth, no longer cracked from her once permanent grin.

When was the last time I looked in the mirror?

Or maybe I just hadn’t paid attention to the face staring back at me.

I used to look like a younger version of my mom, but now, I was just a pathetic reflection of a very sad girl. No wonder Bentley felt so strongly about saving me. All he had to do was take one look at me and see what a mess I was. It all made sense now why he wouldn’t sleep with me. Who would choose to have sex with someone on the verge of completely dying inside? I looked sick.

I turned my back to the mirror, no longer wanting the visual. I couldn’t stand my own reflection. Yet the man outside waiting for me seemed so eager to get me out of there. To get me alone. To fuck me. It suddenly hit me—I didn’t get a man every Saturday night because I looked good, or because I knew how to play the game. There was no game. At least none that I was a part of. The game had actually been played on me this entire time. These men…these strangers I allowed inside me, they took one look at me and saw me for exactly who I was: a hole that was willing. The dullness in my eyes didn’t matter, they got off regardless. The pain in my bones didn’t matter; it didn’t affect my participation in the moment. They won. I again…lost.

The harsh burn of tears threatened to consume me and take me down. My empty stomach felt full, filling with hurt and regret that licked its way up my chest and became a permanent fixture in my throat. I wanted to lock myself in a stall and heave into the toilet to rid my body of the devastation that had become so engrained in me, it’d changed who I was. But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t give in to the pain like I’d done so many times before. I took a few deep cleansing breaths, and then pulled my shoulders back before walking out of the bathroom. Bentley had been right. I needed to get my life back. And I wouldn’t do that hiding out in a bathroom or leaving a bar with a man who’d given me a fake name. I wouldn’t get my life back by spreading my legs for a moment of pleasure. I had one thing to do, and that was to go back home, alone, with my head held high.

But as I stepped out of the restroom, I found Jake waiting for me against the wall. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You’d be surprised how many guys you meet at bars will call you by some cheesy name, which only proved how often they picked random women up. Typically, I didn’t mind it. Not that I liked it, but it was whatever. But now, after seeing myself for who I’d turned into, the name made me cringe. It did nothing but remind me of the dark trenches I’d found myself in, the deep, desolate hole I’d been hiding in this whole time. And I no longer wanted to be there.

“Sorry, guy, but tonight isn’t gonna happen.” I moved to the side and stepped past him.

He grabbed my arm—more like manhandled it—and pushed me into the wall. My head hit the plaster with a hollow thud. We were now out of the hallway, in the back of the bar. People milled about around us, no one bothering to pay any attention to the way he held onto me, or how close his red, angry face was to mine. My pulse sped up, moving through my chest, into my throat, and then settling in my ears.

“Okay, you’re hurting me. Can you please let me go?”

“What the fuck was that about? Tease me, then decide to turn me down?”

“That wasn’t what happened. I just changed my mind. Now let me go.”

He growled, pressing his forehead into mine, which shoved the back of my head harder into the wall. “
Changed your mind
? I’m so sick of you women and your fucking cock-teasing ways. You don’t get to change your mind.”

The only thoughts that ran through my head were the warnings Bree had given me time and time again. I’d never listened to her, because I assumed I was invincible, strong enough to handle my own. I believed I was smart enough to stay safe.

You always think it’ll never happen to you…until it does.

I pushed against him, trying to fight, but he was too strong and easily overpowered my feeble attempts. I didn’t stand a chance at defending myself. I wanted to scream, get someone’s attention, but my throat wouldn’t work. Fear formed into a physical shape and wedged itself there, preventing me from making a sound. There were people around us, yet to them, I’m sure we looked like a couple of horny teens, unable to resist the urges of our bodies. When in fact, it was anything but.

I knew he wouldn’t be able to get me through the bar and out the front door, but that hadn’t offered any comfort to my frantic nerves. Especially when he glanced to the side, a sneer forming on his lips as he noticed the dark hallway a few feet away.

Panic burned deep, bringing tears to my eyes. I became frozen, unable to move or scream. The fight or flight instinct was nowhere to be found. In its place was fright, complete and utter terror that kept me rooted in place. The only movements my body was capable of making were my violently shaking limbs and the short, panicked sobs that bruised the inside of my chest. They wouldn’t even make their way out, defeating the purpose.

Why hadn’t I listened to Bree?

Why hadn’t I listened to Bentley?

It didn’t matter, because it was too late now.

My eyes squeezed closed as warm tears streamed down my face. I was a prisoner to stop them. I couldn’t move, couldn’t wipe the wetness from my cheeks. I tried to beg him to leave me alone, but I wasn’t sure anything coherent had actually come out of my mouth. Suddenly, I was spun to the side, my shoulder slamming into the wall, pain radiating through the left side of my body. A scream finally emerged, but it was hoarse and muffled, serving no real purpose.

When I didn’t feel his hold on me anymore, I brazenly looked around for Jake. I found him in front of me, cheek pressed hard against the wall, a large hand circled his neck with thick fingers digging in just beneath his jaw on either side. His eyes were wide, his face beet red, and his mouth hung open.

A shrill ring attacked my eardrums, blocking all noise around me. I tried to focus but the lights in the room dimmed. However, my attention was still riveted on the pained expression on Jake’s face. I shook my head, trying to clear the darkness away. I wasn’t sure if it was all in my head, or if my body was shutting down from the adrenaline surge. Instead of Jake holding me against the wall, my own fear was. I was a cold, shivering mess, trapped by the circumstances of my own making, and I experienced a strange sense of my mind, emotions, and body fading fast.

Once I finally pulled my attention from his wide and panicked eyes, I noticed Bentley’s mouth next to Jake’s ear. I couldn’t hear the words coming from his tight lips past the frantic rush of blood in my ears, but from the look in his eyes and the way he gripped Jake’s neck, I knew they were filled with rage and disgust.

I gaped at the sight in front of me, fear nearly crippling me, but Bentley’s presence kept me upright, kept me strong enough to not fold under the debilitating anxiety of what’d just happened—or almost happened. As soon as Bentley released his hold and stepped back, Jake crumpled to the floor, gasping for air. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, off the man that just moments ago had held me prisoner. I knew he was down and couldn’t get to me, but that didn’t stop the rolling waves of nausea in my stomach or my inability to breathe.

Out of nowhere, a warm hand grabbed mine possessively and began to pull me away. The scream that had been building in my chest finally broke free, tearing through my throat as I fought against the hold. I locked eyes with my captor. His wide, fearful eyes silenced my cries for help. And then my gaze traveled down his body to his arm, realizing the hand that held mine belonged to Bentley.

Turning around, Bentley started to walk, keeping his hold on me as he dragged me behind him until we were out of the bar. The humid summer air hit me as soon as we were through the door. It practically suffocated me. It settled over my skin, warming me like the heat of the sun. My heart slowed and my lungs were finally able to expand properly. I needed fresh air, clean oxygen. I needed to be wrapped in Bentley’s arms with the scent of his cologne to ground me. But that’s not what I got. Instead, he stopped at the passenger side of his truck and opened the door, glaring at me with narrowed eyes.

“Get in,” he commanded harshly.

His attitude had my head spinning again, this time, with confusion and regret. I needed him to comfort me, to make me believe everything would be okay. But that’s not what he did. He was angry—his dark, glaring eyes were proof of that. It made my chest ache and my throat tighten for whole new reasons.

I pulled my hand from his. He’d parked right next to my car, so when I stumbled backward, I hit my driver-side door with my back, not even flinching at the pain that radiated up my spine from the door handle. “That’s okay. I’m fine. I’ll just drive myself. Thank you for coming.”

“
Thank you for coming
?” Venom dripped from his tone, and it humiliated me. “Are you serious right now, Sarah? I find you in a bar, trapped against a wall by a guy twice your size as he tells you that you don’t have a choice, and you choose to tell me ‘
Thanks for coming’
? Fucking incredible.”

“What are you looking for, Bentley? Huh? You want me to blow you to show my gratitude?” I needed to fight back in some way since I’d been powerless to do so before. So I moved nearer to him, catching the sexy aroma of his faint cologne. My tense muscles recoiled with every harsh beat of my heart. “How did you even know where I was? Were you following me?”

“My cousin was here. He told me you came in.”

“How does your cousin even know who I am?”

He ran his hand through his hair, his shoulders dropping some. “This isn’t about how I knew where you were or why I’m here. This is about you making stupid decisions, nearly getting yourself hurt!”

“I needed sex…and you wouldn’t fuck me.” I pressed my finger to his chest, but the moment my fingertip met the material of his shirt, he grabbed my hand and moved it away.

“That’s what you really want, Sarah? You want it so bad you’re willing to risk your safety?” He stepped closer to me, still holding on to my fist in his hand. He grabbed my hip, digging his fingers into me to keep me from moving away. “Does getting off really mean that much to you?”

It was as if a cloud had fallen upon me, fogging up my mind. The warmth of his body settled the nerves Jake had managed to fray earlier, his sweet cologne soothed me once again as I breathed it in, but his harsh, angry words kept my fight going. I pressed my hips into his, glowering into his eyes.

“You
promised
me I’d get laid last night. So I got all ready—shaved my legs, made sure I was waxed smooth.” A low grumble came from his chest as he pressed even further into me. “I even went out and bought a box of Magnum condoms. All for what, Bentley? For a fucking Hawaiian necklace?” The anger that burned through me was all misplaced. It had nothing to do with our date the night before, and I’m sure he knew that. It didn’t come from his play on my words or his decision to keep things platonic. It had everything to do with feeling helpless, fearing what could’ve happened had he not shown up in time. Which had come from my bad decisions. I wanted someone to blame for my actions, and he was there.

His eyes grew darker as they pierced mine. His lips pressed together in a hard line, and his nostrils flared angrily. “You’re an idiot if you think I didn’t contemplate taking you up on your offer last night. And an even bigger idiot if you misinterpret my respect for rejection.”

I tried to push him away from me, but he barely budged. His words may have been meant as some kind of backward compliment, but it stung as much as a hand to my face. Even though I fought against his hold, I had not one ounce of fear in me like I had with Jake. For whatever reason, I knew Bentley wouldn’t hurt me. He was safe. I knew he wouldn’t force me or cause me any physical pain—only emotional agony by his harsh truth and dismissal. And that’s what kept me from giving into him. What kept me fighting against him. I didn’t want him to view me as weak, regardless of the position he’d found me in with Jake.

In a low tone, keeping my voice steady and even, I said, “You know what I need, yet you keep it from me—dangle it like a carrot—and then get pissed when I go find it somewhere else.”

He sneered and then spun around, pushing me forward at the same time until my body leaned into the open door of his truck, my hands braced against the seat and his hard chest against my back. I didn’t have time to do anything other than gasp before his hand cupped my sex over my jean shorts, adding pressure with his palm that caused my hips to buck against him.

“Is this what you want, Sarah?” he asked with a growl, his lips grazing my ear. His other arm wound around my body, his forearm against my chest as his hand gently grabbed my neck, tilting my head back against his shoulder.

I thrust my hips back, seeking more from him. “No.” I let go of the seat with one arm to grab his hand, leading it to where I needed it the most—inside my shorts.

His hot palm stilled against the sensitive flesh of my lower stomach, his fingertips barely beneath the waistband of my shorts. “Tell me what you need, Sarah. Say it. Beg for it. I’m not going to give you shit until I hear the words come out of your mouth.”

“Touch me. Please, Bentley. I need you to touch me.” My voice was nothing but air with a few syllables cracking through, proving to him how desperate I craved his touch.

His hand moved beneath my shorts at a slow, torturous pace. The heat from his palm scorched my skin, taking my breath away as I anticipated the path of his fingers. The moment his fingertips breached the top band of my lacy underwear, a moan vibrated in my chest, moved up my throat, and escaped past my lips.

“This is what you want?” His voice sounded just as strained as my own. He pressed his body into my back more, causing me to lean forward until my forehead landed on the soft leather of the seat in front of me. His hand slipped from my neck to my chest, grabbing my breast through my thin tank top. “If I do this for you, there’s no more bars. No more random hook-ups. No more dealing with life on your back.”

I moaned again and wiggled my hips, hoping he’d do more than tease me with his fingertips and warm hand on my pelvic bone.

“Say it, Sarah. Agree with me, and you’ll get what you want. But you have to say it.”

“Fine. I agree with you. Now please, touch me.” I hated to beg, but he had me so worked up I couldn’t do anything else. I’d promise him anything at that moment if it would’ve made him keep going.

“Say it. All of it.”

“I won’t go to bars anymore and pick up guys, I promise.”

His body curled around my back, the heat of his breath landing on my bare shoulder in reckless waves. He gripped my breast harder, searching for my nipple through the material of my shirt and bra. When he couldn’t get close enough, he frantically moved his hand beneath my shirt, peeling back the cup to my bra and pinching my hardened nipple between his fingers. The sensation made my knees weak and an airy gasp leave my lips. It must’ve affected him, too, because as soon as the air burst from my lungs, I felt his teeth graze over my shoulder before gently biting down.

“You want me to make you come, Sarah?” His words were throaty, desperate.

“Yes.”

“You
need
it?”

“Yes,” I repeated, more frantic than before. One-word answers were all I could give.

He moved his hand again until the pads of his fingers were pressed against my aching clit. He held it there for a moment, tormenting me, but then slowly pushed his finger through my folds until finding my soaked core. I wanted him to push it farther until I could feel his thick finger inside me. But he didn’t. He dipped just the tip in, gathering up enough moisture, before moving back to my hard nub. I wanted to complain, beg him to go back to where he was, but the way his fingers circled my sensitive bundle of nerves left me speechless.

“I need you to tell me what you like. Tell me what feels good. Don’t go silent on me now, Sarah. If this is what you want—what you
need
—then you have to give me something. I need to hear you.”

He was so demanding, yet handing over the control at the same time. I’d never been with a man like that before. It was either one or the other with the men before him. But it was such a turn on to hear him talk, hear the way he vocalized my effect on him through his strained voice, his ragged pants. I hadn’t even had an orgasm yet and I was already gone, my mind light and free.

“I need you in me. Put your fingers in me,” I demanded urgently, although my voice was shaken and pathetic, not at all demanding.

He pushed his hand farther down, teasing my opening with the tips of his fingers. His boot moved to the inside of my shoe, nudging it until my legs were spread wider beneath me, giving him more room to maneuver inside my shorts. The material was constricting, but it didn’t seem to be in his way, and I didn’t have enough strength to unbutton them.

Slowly, he thrust one finger inside me, and then added another, hissing against the back of my neck. He pushed them in as far as he could considering the angle of our positions and the restrictiveness of my shorts, but the heel of his palm against my clit took away the frustration caused by the shallowness of his reach.

“You wish this was my dick inside you? You imagining what that would feel like? For me to fill you up? Fuck you with my cock instead of my fingers?” His warm tongue trailed from my shoulder to the back of my ear, leaving behind a path of wetness that cooled my overheated skin.

“Yes, Bentley…” My chest heaved up and down. “I want your big, hard cock in me. Faster…please. I need more.”