“Please,” she whispered so softly he almost didn’t hear her.
He nipped her shoulder, then kissed the hurt. He loved when she wore halter tops, how they left her back and shoulders bare and plumped her breasts.
“Brian.” Her voice cracked on his name.
He shushed her while fumbling in his pocket for a condom. It took a matter of seconds to tear the wrapper and slide it on. When he glanced up, he caught her watching him, her tongue swiping across her lips.
Flipping her skirt up, he smoothed his hands down her ass, sheltered by silky boy short panties. Grabbing the bottom, he tugged them down and let her underwear fall to the floor. She stepped out of them and bent back over the table.
This was not what he’d intended when he showed up. He’d thought he would be lucky to get a kiss, and instead they were about to fuck. As much as he wanted to fix the big picture, he wasn’t about to stop.
Brian didn’t mete out more foreplay. Placing his cock at her entrance, he thrust hard. Pandora gasped, rocking up on the balls of her feet. Holding her hips, he steadied her and thrust again. Her pussy hugged him, felt so good. He wanted to do this every day, only with her.
Again he thrust until his balls slapped her flesh and their bodies fit tightly together. Groaning, he leaned forward and kissed her other shoulder, savoring the moment for what it was, a moment of honest communication. She wanted him, but she wouldn’t say it.
Pandora rolled her hips, his length sliding within her as she moved.
He released her breast to push her skirt out of the way and cupped her mound. He would make her come hard. He would brand himself into her life.
Stroking her clit, he began a steady rhythm fucking her pussy. The muscles in her back tensed and flexed as she tried to alternately hold still and move with him. She panted and squealed when he hit the right spot, so he made sure to repeat the same motions until she thrashed against the table. Her best intentions to remain quiet were useless. He planted a hand between her shoulder blades and held her in place.
Pandora’s back bowed a second before she came, her whole body locking up.
He gritted his teeth and grasped her hips with both hands. Her muscles bore down on his dick until he saw stars behind his eyelids. Their breathing and moans echoed all around them in the small room.
Tilting his head back, he pounded into her with more force. She rose up on her toes, changing the angle, and went down on her forearms. He wanted to free her breasts, to touch them, taste her lips, thread his fingers through her hair. He wanted all of her.
Again she moaned, sounding almost pained. The base of his spine tingled and his toes curled. Tossing her head back, Pandora squeezed her eyes shut and screamed, the clenching of her channel sending him over the edge.
Gasping, he leaned forward, bracing himself over her as he spent himself into the condom. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he held her pressed against his chest and sucked in deep breaths.
If he had his way, they’d cuddle a little, have a laugh about whatever stupidity had brought them to this point, and that would be it. But Pandora needed to come into their relationship on her own. He could show her they fit, but he couldn’t do all the work himself.
Pressing his mouth to her ear, he nipped the lobe, startling her.
“I’m not done with you. This isn’t over yet.”
He stood and pulled out of her. He ignored the urge to comfort her when she cried out, still recovering, and instead disposed of the condom in a trash can and pulled his pants back up. She was smoothing her skirt down and turning to look at him when he put a hand to the door.
The look on her face almost killed him. Her cheeks were flushed but her eyes were wide and confused. Her lips were parted and swollen.
“We aren’t finished,” he said, as much for her benefit as for his. He had to cling to that belief to keep hope alive.
It killed him to leave her there, mussed from sex and vulnerable, but he only had so much time.
Letting himself out of the shop, he was brought up short by a teenage girl leaning against the glass. She blinked up at him and he knew the instant she recognized him.
“Oh my god, you’re—you’re Brian.” Her jaw dropped.
“Hey, nice to meet you.” He shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Oh my god.” She breathed an almost reverent sigh.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I need to go, but I’ll be around, okay?”
She nodded like a bobblehead on crack and watched him walk away.
Climbing into his Jeep, Brian let out a deep breath. That wasn’t what he’d expected, but then again he hadn’t gone into this with a plan to begin with.
Sinking into the seat, he stopped and studied his reflection in the rear view mirror. It hadn’t occurred to him once while he was with her to be anxious. He hadn’t even considered not being able to get it up. A little tension eased in his shoulders. Maybe in that regard, his life could move on. Hell, even if he was only able to manage an erection with Pandora, he was fine with that. That alone gave him a lot to think about.
Digging his keys out of his pocket, he found a crumpled piece of paper. He frowned at the folded yellow square he didn’t remember. Smoothing it out on the steering wheel, his stomach clenched. It was one of the fliers Pandora had griped about, and written over the promotional offer in bold black letters it read, “Stay away from her, or else.”
* * * * *
He watched the cripple leave the parking lot. The gimp never even saw him standing there. Right out in the open where he’d been to make his point clear. He squeezed his hand tight around the empty prescription bottle. There would be no more white pills to make the rage easier to deal with. He didn’t need them anyways. The world lost a little of its color, and he wanted to see every red drop the cripple bled out when he taught him a lesson.
Kicking a trash can, he knocked it over and sent it rolling down the sidewalk. Garbage fell out, littering the parking lot. He stalked over to Pandora’s car and dug her spare key out of his pocket. Unlocking the car, he popped the hood.
She’d remember the times he helped her fix the rust bucket. The Honda was at least ten years old and beat to shit. He’d make it so that he was the only one who could help her. She’d come back to him. Pandora needed him. She needed to remember that when he took her to task.
* * * * *
Pandora forced herself to relax into the chair. She was done for the day, but that meant if Brian were going to surprise her, he’d do it soon.
Even though she knew he wouldn’t text her, that they weren’t talking for hours, she cradled her phone, wishing for a message. But that would be against the rules of whatever it was they were playing at now. She was terrified that with each day he wore her down a little more. But she couldn’t help being giddy that he was pursuing her. She didn’t know if being excited about surprise fucks made her screwed up or head over heels, but she hoped that tonight would be a replay of when he bent her over the piercing table.
“Have you decided about Carly’s party?” She glanced at where Kellie was cleaning up after her last client. “She’s coming by every day. She hasn’t asked about it, but she’s going to.”
Kellie sat up and sighed. “What did Mary say?”
“She said to leave it up to you.” Pandora didn’t like asking Kellie for anything. Her temper had grown short and she had yet to broach the subject of the gym. She didn’t know what to do to help her friend, or if she should mind her own business.
“Fudge titties.” Kellie shoved the drawer of ink bottles closed harder than necessary. “I don’t care. We don’t have to do anything, do we?”
She shook her head. “Nope. She’s bringing cake, drinks and everything else. We’re just letting her use the shop.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Kellie massaged her temples. “She cleans up after herself, and no one messes with the stations. You’re in charge of this.”
As much as Pandora didn’t want to bother with it, Carly needed to have her party. Pandora nodded, some of the tension easing in her chest. “Cool. I’ll talk to her when she comes by.”
“Oh, aren’t you doing that guy’s skull tomorrow?” Kellie pushed up from her chair and stretched. Her stylish kimono-style top had little skulls and cherry blossoms all over it. Pandora didn’t know if it was a good sign that she was wearing more than just tank tops and jeans, but she was glad for a small return to normalcy.
“Yeah. He came by while you were at lunch and I tried the pattern on him. It’s going to look sick.” Getting to her feet, she grabbed her purse and waited for Kellie to lock up the office. She checked her phone, but the only message was from Autumn, showing her new shoes.
She tapped out a reply and followed Kellie out to the parking lot. It was a balmy evening. Already the days were starting to hit the upper nineties. Before much longer it would be too hot, even at night.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to give you a ride?” Kellie asked as she locked the front door.
She shook her head. “Nah. It’s a nice night.” And Brian could always surprise her. If Kellie drove her home, she eliminated that potential run-in.
“Okay, be careful. See you tomorrow.” Kellie wiggled her fingers at her and headed for her square car. She’d had it wrapped with the shop logo, so it stuck out in a crowd.
Pandora shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and started down the sidewalk. All of the stores that shared the shopping center with So Inked were closed for the night. She lived six blocks from work, and while it wasn’t a terribly long distance, she drove it most of the time. But her car had died a few days ago, and with the cuts to their profits, thanks to the fliers, she didn’t have enough spare cash lying around to sink into costly repairs.
She glanced around, looking for a Jeep, a man-sized shadow, but the streets were empty. She kicked a can, listening to the sound echo off the buildings around her. She was alone. A hard pill to swallow, but by the time she’d walked three blocks, she accepted the fact that Brian would not be surprising her tonight. She’d never told him where she lived, and she doubted he’d followed her home. Resigning herself to a night spent with her vibrator, she picked up the pace.
After spending at least two hours sketching the skull tattoo for tomorrow and a three-hour session on a tattoo sleeve she’d been working on with a local firefighter, her back and shoulders hurt. A hot bath and a beer were the perfect ending to her day. Second only to falling asleep next to Brian, but she’d made her bed.
Part of her wanted to call him and beg to start over. But what if this was their relationship? Was she overestimating how much he cared? He could have been joking about saying they were a couple, and she too blind to realize it.
The sound of footsteps pounding on the concrete startled her. She glanced around, thrown off by the way the sound echoed like the can she’d kicked. Looking over her shoulder, the last thing she glimpsed was the silhouette of a man against a streetlight before she was blindsided. Stumbling sideways, she hit the brick wall of a donut shop with her shoulder. Pain radiated across her chest from the impact.
Surprise gave way to irritation. “Brian, what are you doing?”
Pushing away from the building, she turned to face him. The man was too short, his shoulders too broad to be Brian. He lunged at her as she realized her mistake. Yelping, she tripped over a bag of trash. The man wound up his arm and backhanded her. Pain blossomed along her skull, fire ate at her eye and something hot scalded her tongue. Falling, she landed in a pile of rubbage, cans and bottles clanking under her. She tried to suck in a breath but her lungs wouldn’t respond. Her asthma had to pick this moment to kick in. She managed a whimper as she tried to crawl back from the looming figure stalking the last few steps.
He knelt next to the garbage and grabbed her by the throat, hauling her up by sheer force. She tried to scratch his arm as the familiar scent of Stetson cologne wrapped around her. She kicked his thigh but earned only a grunt for her effort.
Memories of slaps to her face, a needle scraping a name into her arm and regular forced gaggings had her lungs seizing up. It was her nightmare. All of the excusable incidents because he was angry rolled into one.
“I’m not Brian, baby cakes,” Robert growled.
Fear curdled her stomach as she stared into his crazed gaze. She’d always known he was unbalanced, she didn’t know he was insane.
* * * * *
Brian groped on the bedside table for his phone. For a split second he wondered if it was Pandora coming to her senses, but the number was unknown.
“Hm, hello?” He scratched Gibson on the head and squinted at the clock. Whoever it was, they’d better have a good reason for waking him up at four in the morning.
“Hey, Brian, right?”
The voice sounded familiar, but he was groggy enough he couldn’t place it. “Yeah. Who is this?”
“It’s Kellie.” Her voice didn’t crack, but it was strained and brittle sounding. Coming from a woman who struck him as being tough as nails, it got his attention. “I’m sorry for calling at the butt-crack of dawn, but Pandora’s asking for you, and I don’t know what to do.”
He sat up and pushed the blankets off. If she needed him, he was there.
“No, it’s fine. What’s going on? What do I need to do?” He shuffled across the floor and flipped on the lights.
She blew a breath into the phone. “We’re at the ER down on Kelsey.”
“The ER?” he repeated.
Gibson sat up and watched him, his ears perked up.
“Just come down here. It’s been really hard keeping her calm. The cops want to talk to us, but they keep insisting she must have been raped and she wasn’t. It’s fucking ridiculous. Shit. I have to go.”
The call disconnected, leaving him hanging. Pandora might have been raped? The idea chilled his blood. He stared at the phone in his hand. A shiver stole down his spine as fear settled in his stomach. Was she okay? He’d be the one the cops had to watch out for if she wasn’t. He threw on the first thing he could grab and flew down the stairs.