Authors: Cat Mason
I can feel it coming, not just for him, but for me. His hands squeeze mine as he buries his face in my neck. He roars like a fucking animal, desperate for his release as I fall over the edge again. It’s the hottest goddamn sound I have ever heard and it is like a jolt of electricity straight to my clit. “Henry!” I scream, yanking my hands free of his to hold him to me. Wrapping my arms and legs around him, I take the savage pounding of his hips until he finally stills over me, panting my name in my ear as he comes.
After a minute, Henry slips from my body. Standing to his feet, he smiles at me. “Be right back, gotta trash the dick wrapper.” Turning, he heads out of the room, minding his head so it doesn’t hit the top of the door frame, giving me a shot of his fantastic ass as he does. I can’t even begin to move. I feel like I’ve been hit by a train. A totally amazing train that wrecked me with three orgasms that has my clit still throbbing from the aftermath.
“You okay?” he asks, ducking again as he steps through the doorway carrying two bottles of water.
On wobbly arms, I sit up against the pillows and take the water when he offers me a bottle. Twisting off the cap, I take a long swallow as he climbs into the bed beside me. The minute I replace the lid, he takes the bottle and places it on the table beside him. Wrapping an arm around me, he adjusts me so that I am laying on his chest, while he thumbs through his phone, checking for any messages from the group.
My fingers move through his chest hair as I explore his body in more detail and get a closer look at all of his tattoos. On his right bicep, the words “the devil himself is afraid of my demons” is in black ink. His left side has the face of a monster along with another quote. All those questions I wanted answers to start to swirl in my head again, only making me more curious about the man behind the shades.
“You wanna spit it out, or you gonna keep chewin’ on that?” he asks, running his hand through my hair.
Laying my head on his chest, I meet his eyes. “Just tryin’ to figure you out, that’s all,” I say, moving my fingers back through his chest hair.
Arching a brow, Henry shakes his head. “Don’t bother,” he says, slipping his arm behind his head. “Trust me, Rae, last thing you need is this shit in your head. Leave the demons in the dark, where they belong. Along with the monster.”
“You know, at first, I figured you thought you were better than everyone else and that’s why you came off so intimidating and stayed in the shadows for the most part. That’s not it though, is it?” I ask, sitting up. “I’ll be the first person to tell you that I’m no angel, Bear. I’ve got my own shit to deal with, things that haunt me every day of my life, but I don’t let them own me. I won’t. I can’t deny that I don’t see the darkness in your eyes; it’s crystal clear. I know that there’s gotta be some really rough shit in there, but the last thing I see when I look at you is a monster. What in the hell could you have possibly done that’s so awful?”
“It’s not just something I’ve done,” he replies, vaguely. His eyes go from warm to cold in a matter of seconds, letting me know that I have overstepped the pillow talk boundaries. Who knew? “It’s who I am.” Rolling over, he slides from the bed. Grabbing his shorts, he starts to get dressed. “I gotta go.”
“I’m sorry,” I say moving toward the edge of the mattress. “I get that I said something that I shouldn’t have, but we all have dark pieces in our pasts, Henry. If not, the light wouldn’t be worth fighting for.”
“You should get dressed then I’ll walk you back to the house before I do my rounds.” The tone of his voice is completely frigid.
Hot then fucking cold at the drop of a hat. Where the hell was my warning?
A simple, “We’re sorry, but your post multi-orgasmic haze is being interrupted by whiplash, Big Man style” would have been great. It needs to be a rule that you aren’t allowed to talk after mind-blowing sex, unless it’s a matter of life or death. It really only fucks things up before the feeling comes back to your extremities which causes problems when you need to slap someone stupid and walk out.
“You’re not responsible for me,” I say coolly. Climbing from the bed, I pull on my tank and panties before yanking my shorts up over my thighs. Grabbing up my sandals, I meet his eyes. “Besides, I believe I was on my way to the lagoon.” Turning I make my way for the door. “In case you didn’t catch that, that was Bitchenese for, ‘Thanks for the ride, it was fun. See ya around’.”
I hear him shout for me, but I don’t stop. I continue putting one foot in front of the other until I’m off the boat and heading down the trail toward away from him. He calls for me again, but I shake it off, not wanting to hear any excuses. He’s right. His issues are his issues and I had no right putting my nose in them. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was the one who said we were just having fun and then I go and start trying to psychoanalyze him while his dick is still hard. He probably wanted to throw me overboard.
His mood swings are something I can’t manage to get used to. I let myself get sucked into the Big Man Vortex only to end up wanting to slap the shit out of him because he switches gears from the guy who cuddles the kids and kisses me to the asshole who keeps people at a distance when it comes to anything about himself. It has me coming to my own assumptions to some of the questions that I’ve been asking myself about him. One of which is, how much does anyone in the group know about Henry? He has a great ability to turn the tables to keep the topic of discussion off of him for the most part.
He jokes and makes casual conversation, sure, but it generally is aimed at stories about the boys, the kids, or life on the road. It’s nothing solely about him. More often than not, he’s holding up a wall or a tree while watching life go on around him.
If that’s how he wants it, who the hell am I to voice an opinion when I don’t know shit?
Stepping into the lagoon, I see everyone gathered around a table while Hunter pours liquor into shot glasses. “Hey, Rae.” Holding up a glass, Hunter downs the shot before tipping the empty glass at me. “Grab a shot and join the party.”
Walking over, I take a glass from Camaron and toss it back. The tequila burns going down but soon it’s replaced with more of a warm tingle. Handing me another shot, Hunter turns and clinks his glass with Grayson. Shaking my head, I hand it back, knowing that my diabetes makes me a total lightweight and fast too. Even the one shot will have me feeling no pain soon enough. “Here’s to the end of a legacy, the end of an era.” Holding his glass up high, he chuckles, winking at Chase. “In thirty-six hours, this beautiful woman will have my last name.” Walking over, he wraps an arm around her, pressing his forehead to hers and smiling. “It’s only fair since the crazy, feisty woman found the heart I didn’t know I had and stole the bastard right out of my chest.”
“Such a poet,” Chase giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck, before pressing her lips to his. “I love you too, Hunter.”
“All right, all right,” Aiden calls out from the iPod deck and speakers set up at the other end of the bar. “I’ve got a special request.” Fumbling with his phone, he turns the knob on the speaker to adjust the volume.
A string of violins blares through the speakers and everyone starts laughing, except Hunter. His eyes harden and he tosses his empty shot glass to the bar. “This damn song will haunt me for the rest of my life. One bad bet, and a strip club later and now my theme song is the fuckin’ ‘Thong Song’.”
“Oh come on, Hunter, you know you love it,” Chase says, dancing around him, shaking her hips.
Camaron grabs my hand. “Come on, Rae, Hunter isn’t the only one who can shake their ass.”
Blowing out a breath, I toss my sandals to the sand and start moving my hips as we move away from the bar. Hunter laughs and grabs Chase’s hip, moving in time to the music with her. While we dance, Camaron tells me about that night in Vegas when Hunter rocked the strip club because he lost some bacon cheeseburger challenge. I can’t help laughing because, according to Cam, he loses most of the times he bets, but is always the first one to throw down a challenge.
Henry catches my eye when he walks over and leans against the bar, talking to Grayson as he nurses a beer. His sunglasses are back in place, meaning that all intimidating Henry is back in all his cold and distant glory. I don’t like how we left things back on the boat, but it takes two, doesn’t it? Choosing to do as he wants and let it go, I focus on the music as the song changes and throw my hands up and shake my ass.
Aiden comes up and grabs Cam, spinning her into him. Swooping right in, Mack takes my hand and twirls me in a circle while Luke and his girlfriend are in their own little world in a hammock that hangs just above the water. Mack doesn’t grind on me, or even get too close, which surprises me since I pegged him as a manwhore from day one. I feel Henry’s eyes on me the entire rest of the night, but neither of us say a word to each other. I figure it’s best to leave well enough alone and decide not to push my luck since he clearly has a “Do Not Approach” sign on his forehead.
By the time Mack decides to do a walk-through of the island and check on Daisy and the kids, I decide to head back with him and Grayson. After dancing for hours I am exhausted and want nothing more than to climb into my bed and sleep.
Staggering into my room, I climb into bed in just a bra and panties and pass out as soon as my head hits the pillow.
T
his old dog
isn’t learning new tricks so well. Lying in bed with Rae, I was finally relaxing, or so I thought. Instead, I lashed out and completely shut down on her. Again. The asshole came out and totally fucked things up. I don’t blame her for ripping me a new ass and storming out. Honestly, I’m pretty shocked she didn’t fuckin’ deck me like she did Mack. It’s not like I didn’t deserve it.
I don’t want to dump the shit in my head on anyone, especially not her. I wanted to spend the night wrapped up in her, instead I spent the night watching her have fun without me.
Once again, Big Man, you placed yourself on the sidelines and the only one to blame is yourself.
Walking the island, the sun beats down brutally already and it’s only ten a.m. Today, everything for the wedding gets set up on the beach for the big day. Tomorrow, the last of the boys says “I do” and it leaves me seeing a bigger picture. Hunter is right, it’s the end of an era. But, it’s also the start of an entirely new life that means lots of changes. Good changes, but a lot of adjustment.
The revelations keep coming, each one smacking me in the face. With every insight into my life comes more and more acceptance of it being time to see the truth that has been staring me down for longer than I care to admit. The person responsible for how I am and the only one who can change it are one and the same. Me. No one is here right now to take the brunt of it, no matter how badly I want to remove some of the blame from my shoulders. It’s me and my shit.
Problem is, how do you start plowing another road in life when you’re literally up against a wall? I can’t even begin to find my way through the dark smoke that clouds my vision. The fire has long burned out and yet it isn’t any easier to breathe.
Soon enough, Jazz starts school and the new tour kicks off meaning lots of time spent travelling while Daisy and the kids will stay back at home with Rae and Mack since Chase will be performing and Cam will be managing everything behind the scenes.
After walking the beach this morning, I tell Camaron to make the call to the record label about adding security. “I have conditions,” I tell her, sipping my coffee at the table as she scribbles on my notepad. “I have final authority on plans of action, and no one goes above my head. Period. I won’t allow someone else to come in and run my show and put anyone at risk. Also, I want to be there for interviews and choose my team.”
“That seems fair, Big Man.” Looking up at me, Cam sits down her pen and nods. “I’ll let them know before we start setting up on the beach today. This is going to make things a lot easier on you and Mack. No one could handle what you do, especially not once we start traveling again.”
It hasn’t made my load any lighter yet, and I didn’t expect it to, but it was something that needed to be done. It’s all part of having to adjust. I can’t expect everyone else to change and for me to be able to stay the same. I have to jump off the hamster wheel sometime, right?
Walking into the bathroom, I take a cold shower before changing into a pair of shorts, leaving my shirt off to try and beat the heat. Something crashes to the floor in Rae’s bedroom, immediately putting me on high alert. Grabbing the knob, I fling the door open, thankful she hasn’t been locking it like I told her to. Rae stands with her back to me in nothing but her bra and panties, dumping her purse and the kid’s day bag onto the bed, rambling on about something to herself as the things roll off onto the floor.
“Hey, you okay?” I ask, walking over and grabbing a sippy cup and tub of baby wipes from the floor.
“Fine,” she snaps, fumbling through the pile of stuff.
Her hands are trembling, causing her to drop things as she picks them up. Reaching out, I grab her hand, and she jumps nervously. Her hands are sweaty and clammy. Sure it’s hot, but not hot enough for this. “Hey,” I say, grabbing her arms as she wobbles. Rae staggers unsteadily, worrying me immediately. I watched everyone last night like a hawk and she didn’t drink anything but water after the one shot. She wasn’t so off balance last night after drinking, so why now?
Then it hits me.
“Have you checked your blood this morning?”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” she slurs sarcastically, trying to push free of my grip. “Lemme go.”
“Don’t go lightin’ your fuse on me now, Firecracker,” I say, hoisting her up into my arms and laying her on the end of the bed. “Let’s get you handled.”
“You’re bossy,” she huffs, lying back on the pillow.
“That’s no newsflash, babe.”
Digging through the stuff on the bed, I come up empty handed. Turning to the bedside table, I dig through the drawers before spotting the black bag on the floor between the table and the bed. Picking it up, I unzip it and get everything ready like I’ve seen her do several times in the last two weeks and notice a laminated card. When the meter beeps, it flashes and the number beeps red.
“Oops, red isn’t good,” she babbles. Sitting up, she takes the meter from me and stares at it. “It’s been fun, Bear, but I should probably get some juice.” Turning her legs, she slips from the bed. Her knees wobble as she pads across the room toward the mini-fridge before she crumples to the floor. “Twatfacedasswhore,” she mutters under her breath.
Stepping around her, I open the door to the mini fridge and grab the insulin pens and a small bottle of orange juice before closing the door. Turning around, I lift her to her feet and help her back to the bed. “Keep your ass put, woman,” I say, plopping her back on the mattress.
Grabbing the card from the kit, I read what to do in the event of an emergency. It lists symptoms of both sugar dropping and spikes, and explaining what to do depending on her glucose levels. There is also an in case of emergency contact with a number to call Joshua Dillard. Opening the juice, I hand it to Rae, helping her hold it when her hands shake causing it to spill onto her.
Tears begin to stream down her cheeks and she pushes away the bottle. “I can do it.” She sniffles, grabbing for the pen. She squints and rubs her eyes, blinking furiously as she shoves the lid back on. “No shot, just juice. I got this.”
“If you say so,” I chuckle, putting the insulin back into the fridge and throwing away the trash. When I come back out of the bathroom, I see that she hasn’t moved from the bed. “I’ll be back with some breakfast and I’m gonna sit and make damn sure you eat it.”
“I’ll handle it myself,” she argues, but doesn’t move. “Once I get my bearings back.”
“I’ve got it,” I reply, heading for the door. “You know, it’s okay to rely on someone else in a situation like this, Rae. It’s all right for you to need people.”
“That’s funny coming from you.” She snorts, meeting my eyes. “When is the last time you relied on anyone for anything? Who takes the burdens off the big bad bear’s shoulders? Sorry babe, but no one believes the man standin’ behind the pulpit when he doesn’t even practice what he’s preachin’.”
I don’t say a word. There’s no point in arguing with her about it when I know she’s right. Hell, she’s known me all of two weeks and she even knows she’s right. Instead, I shove down the hallway, heading straight for the kitchen to find her something to eat.
It’s no secret that I keep everyone at a distance. You can only get so close before I’m shutting down and pushing everyone away. Rae’s different, she’s not afraid to call me on it.
When I walk into the living area, Hunter is sitting on the couch, his eyes widening in shock when he spots me. Fumbling around frantically, he shoves something into the front of his shorts before tying the drawstring. “Hey, uh, Big Man. Thought everyone was on the beach. How’s it goin’?” he asks nervously, covering his crotch with one of the big throw pillows on the couch.
“What the fuck are you doin’?” I ask, shaking my head. “I don’t have time to put a cone of shame around your neck to keep you from lickin’ your junk. Do us all a favor and leave your hammer in the tool box.”
“I wish my tool was in the box right now. Fuckin’ woman and her goddamn traditions,” he bitches. “I have traditions too that include keepin’ my pounder lubricated in pussy juice at all times.”
Ignoring him, I head into the kitchen and grab a small plate from the drainer. Digging through the fridge, I manage to find some fruit already cut in a large bowl and then grab some oatmeal from the cabinet. Pouring it in a bowl with water, I stir and pop it into the microwave. Searching through the cabinets below the sink, I find a tray and start arranging things on it.
“The mother-in-law will be here tonight,” Hunter says, walking into the kitchen, adjusting his crotch. Climbing up onto a bar stool, he rests his elbows on the island countertop. “Luke and Mack are setting out to pick her up before dinner. That way when they head back it’ll be dark.”
“Yep. That’s the best way to do it,” I reply, already having heard the plan from Mack and Luke this morning. Taking the oatmeal from the microwave, I stir it again before adding butter and placing it on the tray. Scooping some fruit out onto the plate, I place the bowl back in the fridge. “Just don’t get caught jerkin’ one out and you’ll be just fine. I’ve got shit to do.” Picking up the tray, I turn to leave the kitchen.
“Where ya takin’ that, Big Man?” he asks, the stool creaking letting me know he’s pushed to his feet.
“Rae’s blood sugar dropped too low. Makes her sick,” I explain. “I’m taking her something to eat, then I’ll go out and see what is going on with setting up and make sure the kids are okay until she’s able to take them. Why aren’t you helping?”
Hunter stalks around the island and shrugs his shoulders. “I was distracted.”
“I bet,” I deadpan, making a mental note not to sit on that sofa the rest of the trip.
Walking through the doorway, Hunter heads for the door. Something falls from his pant leg onto the floor, catching my eye. “Normally,” I say, placing the tray down on the table. Scratching my chin, I walk toward him as he freezes mid-step. “I’d ignore this, or try my fuckin’ hardest to forget that I saw somethin’ fall out of your ass,” I say, eyeing the piece of bacon at his feet. “I’m thinkin’ that this means you didn’t sneak in here to beat the meat, you were eatin’ it.”
“Hunter, I need you to…” Chase walks in from the deck, stopping dead in her tracks. Her eyes go to the floor, lighting up in amusement. Pulling out her phone, she points it at us before the flash goes off. “I can’t believe you.” She giggles. Walking over she reaches out and grabs the waistband of his shorts, shaking them. A half dozen pieces of bacon fall to the floor. “What does this look like to you, honey?” she asks, barely able to contain her laughter as she takes another picture.
“Fuck,” Hunter says under his breath, staring down at the scattered meat on the floor. “The struggle is real, all right? I’m having a dirty affair with Oscar Mayer, he gives such a good porkin’,” he admits, yanking a hand through is hair. “I’ve been denied pussy
and
bacon. Let’s be honest, it was only a matter of time before somethin’ had to give.” Shrugging, Hunter leans down and kisses the corner of Chase’s mouth. “It was a dark time for me.”
“Not touchin’ that.” Chase laughs and I turn and grab the tray, heading down the hallway toward Rae’s room.
“Looks like you and I both just got a bit richer,” I say, walking in and kicking the door closed behind me. “Hunter was busted smuggling pork in his ass.”
Rae isn’t where I left her in bed, her room is empty. Lying the tray on the mattress, I look around the room. “Rae?”
My eyes fall on the cracked bathroom door and I hear the faint sound of water running. Stepping closer, I stop just outside the door and hear the shower running. It’s barely been thirty minutes, what the hell is she doing? She could fall. Hell, she could have slipped and hit her head and be unconscious right now. I listen for a minute, but don’t hear a sound. Nothing except the spray of the shower head.
Flinging open the door, I step inside. “Rae, what in the hell do you think you’re doin?”
“I’m learning to sword swallow,” she fires back, cracking the frosted shower door open enough to meet my eyes. “What in the hell does it look like I’m doing?”
“Very funny,” I reply, propping my arm on the wall. “Is that more Bitchenese?”
Rolling her eyes, she pushes the door closed. “Maybe.”
“Is twatfacedasswhore Bitchenese too?” I ask, chuckling.
The water shuts off and the door flies open. Reaching for the towel, Rae wraps it around herself before stepping onto the bath mat. “Don’t try to understand Bitchenese,” she says, turning her back to me and looking into the mirror. Taking another towel from the rack, she bends over, her long brown hair tumbling down in front of her as she towel dries it. “One false translation is all it takes for all hell to break loose.” Straightening back to her full height, she looks up and meets my eyes. “You don’t want to be on the business end of that shit, trust me.”
“I see,” I say, taking a step towards her. I can’t stand the distance between us since last night. I can’t stand knowing that I upset her the way that I did. It’s all too clear in her eyes that I hurt her by shutting down when she was only trying to help me. All she wanted to do was understand. “Well, who do I ask to help me with translation? Maybe something like, ‘Hey, I was an asshole last night’.” Gripping the towel to her chest, her face softens a little as I take another step toward her.
“Hmm,” she says, chewing on her lip. “You wouldn’t need to translate if someone had kept their opinions to themselves. Still doesn’t mean I like the instant hot and cold switch you flip on me.”
“How would I say, ‘Sorry?’?” I ask, running a finger down her arm. Taking her hand in mine, I say, “I’m still trying to figure this out.”
Her eyes search mine as I pull her closer to me. My arm slips around her waist. “Bitchenese?”
Pressing my lips to her wrist, I feel her pulse thumping wildly. No one has ever seen through things like she seems to. Sure, I confided in Katheryn, and even Jenn until I had to leave, but Rae sees it without even knowing what lurks there. “No,” I reply, dropping her hand. “Trusting someone enough to let them in.”
“I have my own demons, Bear. I just refuse to let them own me anymore.”