Chapter 8
POV: Abby?
I spent the rest of the night writhing in a mixture of both anger and excitement at the same time.
Because of him.
Because of Cole.
Because of the way he made me both angry and turned on. At the same time.
I should’ve been infuriated, that he just beat a customer to a pulp in my family bar then threw him out, like he had the right to.
But instead of just pure, blatant anger, I felt turned on.
I liked the way he tossed that guy, like he hadn’t even weighed a thing, and I began to imagine how easily he could toss me around his shoulder.
And I couldn’t get him out of my head.
For the last few hours, I searched for him throughout the bar, hoping to catch a glance at his steel gaze, or bring him another round of bourbon, but he wasn’t here.
He left. He actually left. After he fought someone in the bar, kicked them out, he left and left a $50 dollar bill on the counter in his place.
I should’ve been absolutely livid, but instead I wasn’t.
Because if there’s one thing I learned about Cole, I knew he was lurking somewhere in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to pop up.
And I was hoping he would.
Finally 10:00 pm rolled around.
My feet killed from shuffling around all day, my head was spinning from the constant bustle, and I was in need of a drink—at home, by myself, and finally alone with my thoughts.
Maybe even I would touch myself and think of…him.
I tossed my jean jacket around my shoulders and headed out through the bar’s backdoor.
I parked in the backlot today, purposefully, since there were only two spots, and it was safe from drunks catcalling.
As the door shut behind me, I pressed my back into it, feeling the cool metal against my skin and closed my eyes. I breathed in the fresh air for a moment, reveling in the silence.
Then I heard it.
Footsteps.
I shot my eyes open and saw a figure approaching from the distance, covered by shadow, until he stepped into the light.
It was Cole.
He was waiting for me in the backlot, 3 hours after leaving the bar.
“Were you hiding out here waiting for me?” I shock back, feeling a mixture of shock and excitement course through me.
He smirked but stayed silent.
“That’s pretty weird,” I countered, but I couldn’t stop the adrenaline that surged through me.
His rough voice cut through the silence. “Yet, you’re still standing here.”
“I–well–I” I began to stutter, but he lifted his finger to silence me.
And for some reason I obeyed.
“I wanted to make sure you got to your car safely.”
“Why? Because there’s other strange men lurking in alleyways waiting for me to leave work?” I quipped.
His jaw ticked from my sass.
“Are you ever going to explain why you started a bar fight with one of my customers?”
His face changed from amusement to stone cold in a matter of seconds. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It most certainly does matter. It’s not your business to kick people out of my family’s bar,” I stepped forward, challenging him.
He didn’t budge an inch. “He was being disrespectful.”
“To who? You?” I laughed, poking his chest.
He grabbed my wrist in his, holding it tightly even though I protested. “To you.”
“He didn’t say anything, Cole.”
“Not to you,” his eyes darkened. “He spoke about you when he shouldn’t have.”
“It’s not your job to defend my honor,” I scoffed, trying to wriggle free from his grip but it was no use.
He pulled me closer and into his chest. “Stop fighting me, Abby.”
At first I thrashed against him, smacking him, trying to break free, but my anger, my excitement, and our connection eventually drove me right into him—into his lips. And he tasted like bourbon and musk.
His tongue slipped inside my mouth and slowly we both back tracked to his truck.
Within seconds, he pressed me against the back door of his truck, as his hands were steady around my waist and his lips were brushing my ear. “Get inside the truck.”
My heart pounded in my chest as I thought of his words.
I knew what getting inside his truck meant.
And I did it anyway.
He opened the door and I slid inside into the backseat of his truck, knowing one thing for certain, I was going to cum tonight, but at the hands of Cole.
And suddenly he flipped me over, so that I was on my knees and hands on all fours, my ass facing him as he leaned over me, grinding himself against me.
I moaned, unable to stop the sound from leaving my mouth and Cole’s calloused hands lifted my dress and squeezed my ass.
“Tell me, Abby,” he purred low and rough. “Tell me who you belong to.”
And like a puppet, I did. “You.”
It was the easiest thing I’ve said in my life.
A single word.
The sound of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants caused me to wet. Then without warning, the tip of his cock slid against my panties and I arched my back involuntarily.
“Good girl,” he muttered. “Get wet for me.”
He used a single finger to hook my panties and yank them to the side.
The cold air caused me to flush and wriggle, before my anticipation was replaced by the feeling of the tip of his cock against my opening.
“I hope you’re on birth control,” he whispered as he slowly entered me, making it impossible not to feel each ring of his cock as he did. “Because you’re going to take every drop of my cum.”
Thank god I was.
I whimpered, unable to control the sound and bit my lip as his hands wrapped around my waist and he thrusted inside me.
The sound of my ass slapping against him caused my legs to weaken.
I was a mess for him.
And he was exactly like I expected him to be.
He thrusted again, digging his hands into the side of my waist, and picked up his pace.
He felt so good inside me. Long. Thick in girth. Like he belonged inside me.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” he whispered as he thrusted harder and faster. “Taking every inch like a good girl.”
I couldn’t respond, all I could do was whine as he thrusted faster each time. “Words, Abby. Use your words. Tell me you want to be a good girl for me.”
“I—I want to,” I managed out, as his cock slipped out of me then pounded inside me again.
“And if you aren’t, you know what I’ll do, don’t you?” his right hand left my side and went to pull back my hair. With one sudden yank, he pulled my hair back, causing me to cry out in pleasure.
“Y–yes.”
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice gravelly.
“You’ll punish me.”
“Good girl,” he replied. “I’ll get you to the brink of coming—-and stop your orgasm before it happens over and over again, to teach you a lesson. And that lesson—” he thrusted so hard that I groaned.
“That lesson—” he pumped inside me again, letting go of my hair and transitioning his thumb to work at my clit.
“Will be—-” he thrusted again as his thumb slid over my clit in a circular motion. “Don’t disobey me.”
I felt myself break.
I let out a cry as I clenched my thighs around him, feeling his cum fill me up as I came undone around him.
Fuck. That was amazing.
He slid out of me instantly, tucking his cock back into his jeans and letting my panties cover my slickness.
I remained in the same position for another minute before I regained consciousness and cleared my throat.
His eyes were on me, cold as ever, not a bit of warmth, as he opened his back door and stood in the parking lot.
My legs were jell-o as I tried to get out of the car, but Cole helped me out gently then walked me to my car.
Neither of us said a single word.
And by the time I unlocked my car and turned to say goodbye, he was already walking back to his car and away from me.