Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
SHAWN
Once I’m finished eating, I clean up my plate and Atomic’s.
The meal was quiet, our conversation having died when Elvis came to the door and stared at us the entire time.
He lifts his hand, giving me a smile and a wave as he leaves the room, brushing past Elvis on his way out, which leaves the two of us alone.
Only when we are alone does Elvis push off the door and make his way toward me. With the dishes rinsed and placed in the dishwasher, I back up to the counter, my hip slamming against it. I reach back and grab hold of the edge, gripping it tightly as I suck in a breath and hold it.
He moves closer to me, so close that his chest is almost touching mine, then he lifts his hand and cups my cheek. I continue to hold my breath while I look up at him, my gaze searching his. And then it happens.
My eyes widen when it does.
Jerking my head back, I narrow my eyes up at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask.
I don’t know what’s come over me. I’ve never felt this before.
It’s like red-hot rage bubbles up inside of me, starting at my belly and then beginning to course through my veins throughout my entire body.
It’s so bad that I can’t even really hear much of anything aside from my heart beating in my ears.
“What?” he asks, keeping his hand on my cheek, and I wish he would take it off me.
I’m stuck where I am. I can’t get away. I don’t know what to do or where to go, but right now, I am so angry that I can’t even speak.
“You smell like strong perfume, and you’ve got glitter all over your face and neck. Please step away from me.”
He doesn’t.
Instead, he has the audacity to smile.
He smiles right in my face, and I wish I could be a violent person because I would be right this second. I would be so violent that he would be begging me to stop. And I don’t understand my reaction.
I’m so damn angry, and it’s not like we’ve even known each other long, let alone been together long.
I can count on my fingers the number of times we’ve even had sex.
I don’t know much about him past his name, that his parents were never married, he didn’t know who his father was until later in life, and that his mother rivals mine in the piece-of-shit lifestyle.
“Had some keg deliveries tonight,” he murmurs, although he is acting as though this is funny. It’s absolutely not. “One of them was to the strip club.”
“And you stayed a while?” I ask.
He hums, laughing softly as he does and leans forward, his lips hovering above mine. I find nothing about this funny at all. In fact, I want to push him away and walk away, but he’s bigger than me, and I know he won’t budge.
“Are you jealous, sweetness?” he asks, his voice on the verge of laughter and full of what I can only assume is condescendence.
Deciding that I’ve had enough of this, of him, of this whole thing, I lift my hands between us, place my palms against his chest, and push. Just like I thought, he’s too strong for me to push away. Instead, he moves his face even closer to mine and hums as his mouth touches mine again.
“Fuck, you are, aren’t you?”
I think about telling him to fuck off, but I think he would like that even more, so I don’t say a word, and I certainly do not kiss him back.
He pushes his hips against my belly, and I feel his hard length.
Yes. He indeed does enjoy this. And I hate myself in this moment because my belly clenches at the feel of his hardness.
Elvis reaches down, grabs hold of my hips, and before I realize what’s happening, he’s set my ass on the edge of the counter. With his hips between my thighs, now his length is at my center, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes.
He chuckles against my lips. I hate how cocky he is, and at the same time, I love it.
“I’m not,” I lie.
He shifts his head back slightly, his eyes searching mine. “You are. You wanna know what happened?” he asks.
I don’t.
But I do.
Instead of answering him, I stare straight ahead into his eyes and narrow my gaze on his. Staying silent, I stare at him and wait. He’s going to say something, I know he is, and I’m not going to like it. I can already tell.
“I had a rough late afternoon. I needed to unwind and have a beer. Piston, Gnaw, and I delivered to the strip club last and then sat down at a table,” he says.
But he doesn’t stop there because he’s on a mission to make me jealous or whatever, so he continues.
“I had a couple beers and a couple lap dances, then I came here to find you cozied up to Atomic.”
“Cozied?” I ask.
I’m unsure that he’s actually said this to me, that he’s essentially trying to turn all of this around on me. I’m not going to let him do that, though. That’s not what I want in a relationship, and if that’s what he’s bringing to the table, I’m fine being single.
“We had dinner. I cleaned your fucking room and did your laundry all evening. I was hungry. The party was wild. He saw me and asked me if I was hungry. You don’t want me to converse with anyone? Not even the leader of your club?” I ask. “Fine.”
There is a moment of silence. He doesn’t back away the way I expect him to, though. Instead, he watches me for a moment longer, his gaze searching. At least his smile has died slightly, and I wonder if he feels guilty at all.
I hope he does.
I hope he swims in that guilt until his fingers get all pruney.
“I don’t like to see you with other men. I was jealous,” he says, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard before. “I accused you of being jealous because that’s exactly how I was feeling.”
I could be a smart-ass, but I decide against it. I suck in a breath and nod my head. “I’m not sure that I like you going to strip clubs, but I know this is the way your life is.”
His gaze searches mine, and I’m not sure what I expect him to say, but what I don’t expect is a single nod and for him to shift closer, for his lips to touch mine, and then for him to speak against my mouth.
“Then I won’t go back unless you’re with me. I’m new at this shit,” he mutters. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I don’t want to upset you.”
It feels like he’s appeasing me, but I don’t say anything about it. As much as I want to. And boy, do I want to say a whole lot, but it doesn’t feel like the time or the place.
So, instead, I allow him to kiss me. His tongue slips into my mouth, and I accept it until he nibbles on my bottom lip as he breaks the kiss. He lifts his head, his eyes searching mine, so I decide that this is as good a time as any to let him know that I’ve met Poison.
“Met your friend Poison tonight. She made sure to lay down the rules,” I state.
At this, his eyes widen. He wasn’t expecting that. I almost laugh, but Poison and what she said, it isn’t funny in the slightest.
KING
Poison.
Of course, that bitch had something to say. She always has something to say. I’m sure she truly laid down the law for Shawn and made it seem like Shawn was a whore or some shit. Seems like something she would do. The bitch is a good lay, but fuck me, she is drama.
“I wouldn’t put much thought into anything that Poison says,” I murmur.
“So, have you not fucked her? Do you not fuck all those women down there? It’s like Vegas, stays right here, and everyone hides it from women like me, right?” she asks.
“Women like you?”
She hums. “Girlfriends, wives, your women?”
Well, she figured me and the whole club out in less than a day. If anyone said that Shawn was stupid, they would be really fucking wrong. Gripping her waist, I pick her up off the counter. As much as I want to fuck her right here and now, we have a bit more to discuss.
Shawn knows nothing about club life, and it seems I’m going to have to teach her. What I should have done is kept her away from all of this to make it easier on me, but I fucked up. I fucked up big time. She’s here now, and there’s nothing I can do about that.
“Yeah,” I confess. “That’s what fucking happens.”
I don’t know what I expect from her, but for whatever reason, I tell her the truth. I shouldn’t. I should try to hide whatever I can. Shield her from everything ugly and bad in my world. Except Shawn knows bad. She understands exactly what the fuck is going on here in this world.
She wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her straight to the bedroom. Our bedroom. It’s no longer mine. She’s put her stamp on it. She’s my woman, and she will be the only woman in that space from now on.
Once we’re in the room, I close the door behind us, flipping the lock as I set her down to her feet. She touches her lips to the side of my neck, and I use the moment to take in the room. It’s fucking immaculate.
Instead of telling her that, I dip my chin and touch my lips to hers. Gripping her waist tightly, I pull her against me, shoving my tongue into her mouth and tasting all of her. She lifts her head from mine, her eyes searching my own.
“I want to be okay with all of this, but I don’t feel that way. I don’t want to share you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
Shaking my head from side to side, I decide that I need to tell her the truth about how I feel. “I won’t share you. And me? You don’t have to worry about that. Right now, you’re all I can think about,” I state.
“And when I’m not all you can think about?” she asks softly.
Shifting my lips to her ear, I take a moment to really take her in. I close my eyes, suck in a breath, and let it out slowly. “Then we discuss things,” I murmur.
She doesn’t like that. I can tell by the way her muscles stiffen from my words, but it’s the truth, and I’m going to be honest with her. I can do that, if nothing else. I owe her that much, at least.
“It’s you and me, sweetness. I didn’t lie about that. Nothing happened with the stripper, I swear to fuck.”
And that is the explanation she will get from me. Shifting closer to her, I touch my mouth to hers before I pick her up and carry her to the perfectly made bed. Then I lower her down onto the mattress, peel her pants off, and bury my face in her sweet cunt.
No more words are spoken.
We just feel.