Give Me Strength (5 page)

Floozy!
I shouted again.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

I closed my eyes but all it did was bring back
memories of last night, and they were hot. He hadn’t just broken
the drought; he’d exploded me out of it in a fever so hot I felt
almost blistered.

He groaned softly in his sleep and turned his
head to face me, one hand shifting from under the pillow to rest
near his face. My breathing quickened as I remembered those hands.
They were strong and calloused, and he’d used them to shove me up
against the wall and push his way inside my body. All the while his
soft, full lips travelled hungrily along my neck, biting down on my
ear until I thought I’d pass out. He’d ripped his shirt off
hurriedly, exposing smooth golden skin covered in muscled ridges
and a little silver barbell piercing in his right nipple. When I’d
boldly tugged on it with my teeth, he groaned and the sound set me
on fire. When I threw back my head and banged it hard on the wall,
he simply turned us around and shoved me down on the bed without
missing a beat. The man pushed every single button I had. Well, I
only had the one, but he’d pushed it enough so that when I went off
the edge, I didn’t just fall. I took a soaring dive of toe curling,
throat baring pleasure.

Unfortunately dawn was now announcing its
arrival, returning me to solid ground with a thud called “the
awkward morning after.” Despite the fact I never went out anymore,
I was aware that one night stand etiquette involved flashy “do not
linger” neon signage.

I found my yellow dress on the floor. The pretty
satin was crumpled, and I winced at its careless abandon in the
cold light of day. Next to it sat my matching lace underwear. I
held up the panties, noting they had a tear, not from being
completely ripped off, but definitely torn in the desperation of
swift removal. I closed my eyes for a brief moment to relive the
memory of them fisted in his hands as he yanked them down my
legs.

I took deep breaths to cool the surge of heat as
I finished dressing. I dragged my fingers through my snarls and ran
fingertips under my eyes, all the while prepping my mental fortress
for the walk of shame.

I heard my phone shrill loudly from somewhere
beyond the bedroom. Shoes in hand, I tiptoed out of the room to go
search for it. Unfortunately he lived in a loft that appeared huge,
and an immediate scan did not bring my phone or my little clutch to
light. I heard a noise and my frantic search began in earnest,
upending couch cushions, on chairs, looking behind bookshelves,
under tables.

“Looking for something?”

I paused and closed my eyes, swallowing
hard.

This was not cool.

This shit was so. not. cool.

On hands and knees I turned towards the voice to
see a man in the kitchen that was not the man I had left sleeping
in bed—full lips, short dirty blond hair—staring at me as he stood
there in nothing but running shorts. My gaze lingered on a trail of
sweat that ran down the middle of his chest to sink into his
shorts, and I flushed from the tips of my mussed hair to the
bottoms of the pretty pink toenail polish I’d applied with
painstaking care yesterday.

The man cleared his throat, loudly, and my eyes
snapped to his amused gaze.

“Oh.” I got up off my hands and knees. “I was
just um…searching for my bag.”

He chuckled and pointed to my little clutch,
sitting on the counter of the kitchen bench as though it was quite
happy where it was and wasn’t prepared to leave. “You mean this
one?”

I ran a hand over the wrinkled mess of my dress,
fighting the urge to just let the clutch have its way and leave
without it. Instead, I moved fast, snatching it off the bench and
holding it to my chest.

The man’s grin got wider as he took in the dress
that was busy proclaiming my lack of moral fibre.

“I’m Casey.”

My eyes fell to the hand he was holding out, and
I took it in mine briefly. “Um…Quinn. I’m Quinn,” I managed before
letting go of his hand and taking a step back. I indicated towards
the door. “I’ll ah…just let myself out.”

“Wait,” Casey called when I started to flee.
“Can I get you breakfast? Did Travis offer you a ride home?”

My eyebrows flew up. “Travis?”

Casey’s amusement returned at my confusion, and
he nodded towards the bedroom I’d just come from.

I mumbled a rather unintelligent and nonsensical
response and grabbed for the handle of the front door just as it
was shoved open from the other side. I stumbled from the force,
falling down on my backside with a painful and embarrassing
thud.

“Oh shit. Sorry. I didn’t know you were there,”
I heard the door shover exclaim.

I pushed the hair out of my face to see another
gorgeous guy standing before me. Wasn’t the saying all bad things
happened in threes? Was it the same case with guys? Do all hot guys
happen in threes? If so, why didn’t I get the memo? This one looked
a lot like Travis with his green eyes, golden skin, and silky hair,
though his was dark brown, short, and mussed, as though he ran his
fingers through it constantly.

I grasped the hand he was patiently holding out,
and he hauled me up off the floor. I stumbled awkwardly to my
feet.

“Why you’re just a little thing, aren’t you?” He
observed, his eyes running the length of me.

I straightened my back, flushing wildly enough
under the scrutiny to break out in a light sweat. He turned to look
at Casey as I tried tugging my hand free but he held on tight.

“Airport
hotdog
. Five minutes.”

Casey let out a groan. “Not you with the
nickname too.”

My mouth fell open as the other man laughed.
“Hotdog?”

Casey looked at me and shook his head. “Don’t
even ask.”

Assuming it was some lewd reference to
wieners
and
buns
I could only agree and shut my
mouth.

“I’m Mitch,” the man said to me.

“Quinn,” I replied politely, tugging my hand
free.

Mitch looked between Casey and me with a slight
smirk. “So…you two know each other, huh?”

Before I could offer a retort, Casey grinned
again and shook his head. “No, but she knows Travis, don’t you,
Quinn?”

Oh my God.

I did, apparently, know Travis rather
intimately. Reflecting back on last night left me with the
knowledge he was a man I wouldn’t soon forget. It had been so long
since I’d stopped giving my body away to anyone that made me feel
good. I wanted to tell them I wasn’t the person who did this kind
of thing, not anymore, but apparently I was. Just one night was all
it took for me to revert back to my old ways.

Just to round out my embarrassment, the bedroom
door opened and Travis emerged. The unfairness that he looked even
better this morning than he did last night was not lost on me. The
jeans he’d slid on were only half buttoned up, his hair was mussed
from sleep, and his eyes were lowered sleepily, not making me want
him any less than I did last night—even without the alcohol pulsing
through my system.

Without replying to Casey, and before I could be
noticed by Travis, I slipped quickly out the door, pulled it shut,
and ran.

***

After messaging Lucy, I
felt pathetically grateful to see her squealing up the quiet street
like Batman. Thankfully it was still early, and I didn’t have to
worry about being seen by the public in what was obviously last
night’s outfit. The door of her crappy, beat up Toyota Corolla
creaked loudly as I flung it open and climbed in the passenger
seat. The car was clean, yet it still smelled like a pair of week
old gym socks. No matter how many aromatic hanging trees she had
hung over the rear view mirror, the smell still remained. After
buckling my seatbelt, she squealed off into the street.

“Holy shit, girlfriend!” she shrieked when she
took in my dire appearance with a sideways glance. “You look like
you’ve been dragged through the hedge backwards.”

I had no idea where to begin with that statement
after the encounter I just had. Instead, I wound down the window
and let the fresh, cool air blast away the residual heat of
embarrassment on my cheeks.

“This is your fault,” I told her.

If it wasn’t for Lucy, I’d have been sitting at
home last night, completely oblivious that such a man like Travis
even existed. Now the vision of him biting down on my skin as his
hips ground hard into mine was stuck on the repeat button inside my
head, and I feared it would never stop. I didn’t want it to stop.
Already, my body was craving his touch again.

“Hey!” she shouted when I stole the giant
sunglasses off her face and jammed them on. My eyes were still
gritty and sore—unused to nights out drinking and hot, wild sex.
“How is it my fault? I can’t believe you went home with the holy
fuck me gorgeous guy!”

I couldn’t believe I went home with him either.
Travis was pure male perfection from the intensity of his green
eyes to the way they’d burned with desire. I knew I had a long way
to go with rebuilding my self-confidence, and I was working on
that, yet I couldn’t help but wonder what it was he saw in me that
had him touching me with such heat.

Lucy took her eyes off the road to raise her
blue eyes at me in disbelief. They were bright and cool, the first
thing I saw when I met her after moving in next door. I didn’t know
what I’d have done without Lucy. The people I thought were friends
found out I was pregnant and the shunning began, as though
pregnancy was contagious. Idiots.

“Earth to Quinny.” Lucy snapped her fingers in
my face, the car swerving dangerously with only one hand at the
wheel. This was why I never, okay, hardly ever, got in the car with
Lucy.

“What?”

“I asked if the man got your number? Is he going
to call you?”

I grabbed a packet of gum out of the centre
console and shoved it in my mouth, chewing furiously. The fresh
taste in my mouth restored me a little.

“No. He didn’t get my number,” I replied.

“No? Why not? Does he think he’s too good for
you?” Lucy pulled over to the kerb with a squeal of tyres, and I
jerked in my seat, my stomach lurching. “I should go back and kick
his ass,” she snarled.

“Lucy! No! I snuck out okay? He didn’t see
me.”

“Oh.” Lucy lips pressed flat in apparent
disappointment she couldn’t get in a fist fight on my behalf.
“Well, did you get a photo of him?”

“No!” I laughed at her hopeful expression. “I’m
not so depraved that I need to take a photo of his ass to look at
every time I feel like being a perverted troll.”

She didn’t indicate before pulling back out into
traffic. A driver behind us tooted after getting cut off, and Lucy
took a hand off the steering wheel to give him the finger.

“The photo was for me, moron, so
I
can be
the perverted troll.”

I rolled my eyes. “As if you’d look twice at
another man besides Rick.”

Lucy and Rick had something special. I liked to
think I wasn’t bitter or resentful, but I had to admit that
sometimes it was hard to watch without feeling sad at what I once
had with Ethan. Would we still be together now if he was alive? I
would often wonder how different my life might have been if I
hadn’t lost him. Lately I found myself thinking about it less and
less, and that hurt as well, as though I was leaving Ethan
behind.

“Come on, Quinn. I’ve been married since the end
of time. You’re single so it’s my right as your bestest friend in
the whole world to live vicariously through you.”

“How can you do that? This is the first time
I’ve had sex in forever, remember?”

Lucy snorted. “Well I didn’t say you were doing
a good job of it, did I?”

I laughed, but inside I pushed down on the ache
that pounded a little harder when I thought of Travis.

“Did you get his number?” she asked, obviously
determined not to let this go. “Are you going to call him?”

“No! I’m not going to call him. No relationships
for me, Luce. You know that. I’m not ready for anything like that.
I don’t know when or if I ever will be.”

She huffed and it sounded almost sad. “Maybe
it’s time, Quinn. To let go of Ethan. To let go of your past. To
move on. To live. Someone who could protect you—”

“I don’t need to be protected,” I
interrupted.

I’d proved I could stand on my own two feet. The
good news was that I’d had time to enjoy my independence because
David was gone. The police had photographed my injuries and charged
him with assault. Four years in prison was deemed the suitable
punishment, yet I was still struggling to sleep properly at night.
Four years didn’t automatically give me back what I’d lost, and in
six months he’d be out. Despite a restraining order already in
place, it was just a piece of paper. David knew where I lived. Soon
I would need to think about moving, but for now it was hard to let
go of having Lucy and Rick next door. Not to mention I needed a job
in order to sign a new lease. While my contract position with
Jettison Records had been extended continually, it had ended a week
ago with an employee returning from maternity leave. Kind enough
not to kick me to the kerb, my employers put me forward for the
band assistant position I would soon be interviewed for.