Torn (The McKerricks Book 1)

Content rated 18+

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Torn
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2014 A.K. Harris
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

Chapter 1

The day couldn’t have gone any better. Everything detailed to perfection, my latest investment  is paying exponentially, and I’ve got a good looking blond on her knees sucking me off in the bathroom of a trendy new bar. Really a great end to another great day in the life of Connor McKerrick.

I’m an asshole you say? Don’t worry. At this moment in time I’m exactly T-minus thirteen hours and counting to encountering Murphy’s Law. I’d like to call it my own personal cataclysm, a tragedy, a terrible misfortune, the kiss of death to my assholery. Let’s just call it ‘the calamity’.

But right now, I’m ignorant. And you know what they say about ignorance. It’s bliss. So as the blond takes me deeper, I’m not worried about ‘the calamity’ that I’m ignorant of, I’m just worried how I’m going to get out of here without taking the blond with me. And before you say it, yes I know that's a dick move, but I didn’t ask her to suck me off she decided to do that all on her own. What was I to do? Turn her down? I think not.

So when her tongue rolls over me in her mouth, and I know I’m done for, I’m a gentleman enough to tap her on the shoulder and let her know. She pulls back and catches with the patented ease of someone who is used to doing this… frequently. So try not to get your feminist panties in a twist. If anyone is getting used here it’s me.

“How about I clean up and we go to your place?” The blond offers, in what I’m sure is her sultry voice, as she turns toward the sink to rinse.

Now call me an ass if you want, or a dick, or a douche, but I turned and left. Cause I don’t break my rules. And the number one rule on that list is never bring them home. Ever. Then they know where you live. Then they can find you. Then they have a means to get to you when they want more. And trust me, with a guy like me, they always want more. And as conceited as I know that sounds, it’s the truth, like it or not. Sex is a release for me. Release from pressure, stress, it’s a physical reaction of the body. Like taking a run every morning, like working out, I have to let it out. Just because women have some sort of emotional bonding while they fuck doesn’t mean I do. So I really can’t be held accountable for their mistake.

My phone vibrates, pulling me from my hasty escape as I pull it out of my pocket. There is a image of my sister smiling up at me, the image is at least seven years old, but that is how I will always see my sister. The perpetual teenager, hopelessly devoted to happily ever after, and needing my protection. Even if she is twenty-two and sometimes sporting the mouth of a sailor. A habit our mother insists she adopted from me. And honestly there are worse habits she could have picked up from me so I’m not complaining that that’s all she picked up.

“
Gwendolyn,” my voice sounds raw and scratchy to my own ears. A sound I’ve do doubt Gwen easily picks up over the noise of the bar.

“
What are you doing?”

“
Uh,” running my fingers along my scruffy end of the day jaw and glance around the bar. I opt for truth. It works best with Gwen, well it keeps me out of trouble with Gwen. “Scratching an itch.”

“
Okay… eww… that’s really… something I didn’t need to know… Listen I called to ask a for a favor… so most awesome big brother do you think you could do me a terribly awesome favor tomorrow?”

I’ll be perfectly honest here. Gwen and our mom are the only women I’ll do anything for. And I mean anything. Sewing class? Been there. Cooking lessons? Done it. Burying bodies in the back yard? Not yet… but Gwen is dating age so I’m sure it’s coming, as soon as some prick like myself breaks her heart.

“What’s her name?”

“
Huh?” I respond pulled out of my internal monologue.

“
The woman you were fucking,” she replies with a  laugh. I guess I did teach her some things she  might be better off without.

“
Does it matter?” I ask casually trying to divert her.

“
You can’t even remember can you? That’s a new low even for you big brother.”

I don’t deny it. How can I? It’s the truth and we both know it. We both know I didn’t ask her, and I know she didn’t tell.  “What do you want Gwen?”

“Well my most awesome big brother,” She starts trying to butter me up. She doesn’t have to, but the attempt makes me smile anyways. “I'm going to a book signing tomorrow for my favorite author and I'm way to nervous to go by myself. I'll feel much better if you're there. You don't even have to stand in line. Just give me the courage to walk in. Pretty please?”

With a sigh I drag my lip between my teeth. Shit. Now honestly it shouldn’t be such a hard thing to spend some time with my sister. But my sister likes romance. And she likes it in her books. And so do the other eighty percent of women in Seattle. Which means if this author is any good there will be women there. Lots of them. This is starting to sound like a lot of work.

“What time do you want me to pick you up?” I finally sigh out.

“
Yay! How about eleven? We can go grab a bite after?”

Her voice sounds so cheery I can’t hold on to my detest for the amount of patience this will call for. It’s been a while since Gwen has needed me for anything, and honestly I’m excited to see her. Even if I see her every weekend for Sunday dinner.

“Lunch sounds good, I’ll be there.” I respond before ending the call, just as a leggy redhead pulls up in front of me with a smile.

“
Hey handsome, how about you give me a ride back to my place and we’ll see what I can do to reward you for it.”

You’re expecting me to say no aren’t you? Well I’ve got twelve hours left till ‘the calamity’. So of course I go with her. It’s not like I’m taking her to
my
home after all.

Chapter 2

It took forever. It took for-fucking-ever. At least it felt like it did. Holding a pleasant smile as women filed in and out of the book store. All of them staring. All of them checking for a wedding ring. None of them the women that are up for an easy time. These women want happily ever after. I’m thankful we have managed to escape that estrogen filled hell-hole and have made our way to the bakery down the block. I don’t have time to read books, and even if I did I wouldn’t read romance, so I didn’t bother to be the only male standing in line with Gwen, just to blow smoke up some random chicks ass.

I
’m just glad it’s finally over. Gwen seems to have enjoyed herself, and that is enough for me. Even if I don’t know what the hell she is talking about when she gushes about this author or how her books give you ‘all kinds of feels’ whatever that means. They don’t sound like they will get me laid or make me money so I’m not really interested.

I stretch out at the table, with my panini in hand, as Gwen continues to prattle on. Call me a guy but I do the guy thing and tune fifty percent of it out as I eat. My body feels languidly relaxed after doubling up on last nights
… entertainment. I must be getting old if going two rounds can leave me feeling this relaxed afterwords. Not that I’m complaining, the faster I scratch the itch the sooner I can get back to making money.

I drop my my mental brain barrier and listen to Gwen, she is still prattling on about
‘the feels’ whatever those are, so I turn my filter back on. But I don’t get very far with my mental block before Gwen is waving her arms frantically at me and talking rapidly. So with a sigh I try to tune her in.

“
What should I do? I mean she’s right… what do I do Connor?”

“
About what?” I ask around a mouthful of ham panini. Callous? Maybe. Please remember ‘the calamity’ it hasn’t happened just yet. But it’s about to. Christ is it about to. And I am
so
fucking ignorant.

“
She’s
here
,” Gwen hisses in a low voiced response, and I guess I have a pretty dumb expression on my face, because she rolls her eyes before continuing. “Henley Williams! The author? The whole reason we are fucking out here?” I really need to stop swearing in front of her. Mom was right. As usual.

“
And?”

“
What do I
do
? God I
knew
I should have invited Aiden.” This was said with a much to over dramatic eye-roll. We
both
know she should have brought Aiden.

“
Yes you should have brought Aiden, of your two most fastidious and loving brothers, he would have walked into the book store, bought a book, and bought the whole romantic farce hook, line, and sinker. But he’s definitely the more… romantically inclined brother.”

“
You mean he’s not a total asshole,” she offers with a smile. I ignore it. Quite magnanimous of me isn’t it? I know.

“
But if you’re asking me what to do because some…” random pair of legs, “Woman who you admire is here… the proper thing would be to ask her to sit with you.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth I’m praying, that she doesn’t follow through with my advice. The last thing I need is to sit with a woman that is so stuck on happily ever after that she writes about it.

No such luck. With a smile and a nod, Gwen gets up and begins working her way through the bakery. Great. Well maybe I
’ll get lucky and she’ll know she is so far out of my atmosphere that she won’t make things awkward.

My eyes follow Gwen, as her lithe form winds through the crowd. The tumbled waves of her blond hair are such a stark contrast to my own black hair, but if nothing else can be said about the three of us, you can definitely say our parents produced three well formed, good looking, and prosperous progeny.

Gwen slips behind a group of people, and I can no longer see her from where I’m sitting so with a sigh I lean further back in my chair and attempt to glance around the people standing in my way. My jaw clenches at the sight of the barely five-foot-two brunette standing next to my sister. I fuck super models. Super. Models. Or at least I fuck hot women that have legs a mile long. But this woman, she can’t even make five foot two, so how she is making her legs look that good in her skirt and lace stockings I’m not sure. Its not like there can be a lot of them, but every inch is perfectly formed for touching.

My eyes drag up her legs past her perfect little ass, and curvy hips. She is slightly turned away so I can
’t be sure but I bet her tits look just as good as the rest of her. Finally I manage to drag my eyes away from trying to investigate her body and take a closer look at her face. Her round face was warm and inviting as she speaks animatedly toward Gwen, the wild tendrils of her almost chocolate colored hair framing her face. I could see Gwen gesture toward my general area, no doubt inviting her to sit with us.

Her lips part into an inviting smile, as she nods at Gwen. She turns back toward the counter, as her bracelet covered arm reaches out taking her donut from the boy behind the counter, before her and Gwen turn in my direction. I pretend I wasn
’t watching the exchange. Cause I wasn’t… not really.

And a donut? Really? I've never seen a woman eat a donut before... at least not any woman outside of my family. Usually they order salads and try to survive off air, as though putting something unhealthy in their mouth offends them.

I have to admit I'm surprised that when she takes a huge bite of the donut, and her tongue darts out to lick the powder off her lips, I can feel my dick work its way to half mast. I've never seen something so hot as the sight of her pink little tongue darting out. Okay. So I’m not as old as I thought. Apparently, according to my dick, I can go for a round three. But romance author? That’s got clingy stalker written all over it. Besides once she opens her mouth something stupid will come out, desire killed. It’ll be clean, efficient. And maybe I won’t have to find a way to fuck her and run.