Chapter 6
TAYLOR
All of that happened . . . right?
This question has been running through my head on repeat since I left the nightclub. I was there, I lived it, and yet it still feels fake.
I spent my taxi ride home trying to piece everything together. How the night started and where it ended. It wasn’t a few hours ago that we stood in the restaurant I’m staring at now. Right there, between two chairs, I fought the monster off of my dad.
He posed his threat and left. Next week. That’s when he said he’d be back.
Now, I’m supposed to believe that it’s all gone away? That he won’t come back for his blood money and my dad’s safe . . .
Rickon gave me no reason to not believe him. He said what he said and let me walk out of the club without expecting a hug goodbye. Though, by that point I think both of us were beyond hugging. The way our mouths moved and bodies interacted should be a sin.
Knowing I can’t do anything about it until Rickon makes a move, I head upstairs. Some fucked up part of me still thrumming with electric heat and want for more of what we started in the bar.
I do a double take on the stairs, considering the thought. Maybe fucked up isn’t the right way to think about it. From start, to finish, Rickon was the perfect gentleman. He didn’t push for anything, took his time and gave me control of the situation.
Hell, I’m the one who started stroking his cock, long before his hands found their way down my body. And if his promise of dad’s debt being cleared is true, without any stipulations or expectations from me, then there’s nothing to get hung up about.
We were two consenting adults, enjoying the evenings grandeur and spectacle. Even if he did follow me there. There’s no other way he’d have known where I was.
I hate to admit how thrilling it is. To have caught his attention so strongly, that he dropped everything to get a chance with me.
Oh goodness, tired as I am, I doubt I’ll be sleeping anytime soon. There was a hell of a lot of built-up tension that never got released, and I guess that’s what the rest of my night has in store.
I enter the apartment quietly, tiptoeing down the hall to not wake my parents. My sneaking comes to an abrupt halt when I notice the TV’s pale blue light shining in an otherwise dark living room.
Dad’s sitting in his single faux-leather recliner, finishing off a can of beer with his football game. Even shrouded in shadows, I can see his face. A couple of bumps and bruising over his nose and eye, but he’s mostly unharmed.
“Hey, Pop,” I wave from the doorway. “How are you feeling?”
“Tay,” he smiles, “Better than ever.”
Grunting and groaning, Dad gets out of his chair to say hello. We hug, and he sits back down with the same dad-noises that brought him to his feet.
“I’m happy to hear it. How’s mom?”
Dad sighs, shrugs and shakes his head. “She’s fine. Needs time, but fine.”
I want to tell him what happened at the club, clear his mind of the threats and worries that have him up so late. But I can’t find the words.
I’m on my own rollercoaster ride of emotions from how things ended with Rickon. His debt’s settled, but I can’t face the look in his eyes when I tell him why.
“Anyway,” Dad says before I can speak, “I should be off to bed. Can’t keep burning the midnight oil.”
We hug and walk down the hall together. I say one last goodnight when we reach my door, and slip inside while he takes the last few steps to my parents’ bedroom.
Inside and alone, thoughts of Rickon immediately take control of me. The interruption in the living room didn’t do a damn thing to stop my yearning want for pleasure. And where I’d rather have it be Rickon who delivers it, my imagination and fingers will have to carry me tonight.
I slip out of my outfit and into a dark blue satin pajama dress and nightrobe and head to the window to draw the curtains shut. But just before they close completely, something in the street catches my eye.
Is that a shadowy figure ghosting in the dark? With most of the streetlights out, I can’t make out more than a general shape. The shape drifts closer and becomes slightly clearer. Tall and broad and menacing.
My initial instinct screams danger.
It could be Rickon, I remind myself, and it probably is. But with how tonight has gone, it could just as likely be the piece of trash who took me outside and set me on this path to begin with.
It seems I’ve attracted all the crazy ones, and, well, this is the time of year all right. I shouldn’t get comfortable just yet. But if I learned one thing tonight, other than how badly I crave Rickon, it’s that sometimes you have to get your hands dirty to protect yourself.
Grabbing a metal baseball bat from my cupboard, I storm out of my room and front door. Adrenaline tickles every nerve in my body as I descend their staircase.
My bravado fades in a flash as I step back out into the cold night air. Nothing about what I’m doing is smart. A little drunk and in a haze from the night, I guess making good decisions isn’t very high on my to-do list.
“I was hoping you’d see me.” That voice sets my mind at ease in an instant. “But if you’re trying to scare me, Baby Doll, you’ll need a bigger stick.”
Rickon’s standing against the wall, one leg kicked up against it, arms crossed over his enormous chest. Eyes flashing his devious intentions, with a wicked smile to match.
“You think?” My smile stretches from ear to ear. My heart flutters and my legs turn to jelly noticing its Rickon. The ache his voice inspires between my thighs washes away any doubts I had about coming down here in a puddle of lust. “Well, take off your pants. I think I’ll find a better one.”
There’s no use in denying or fighting it anymore. This is happening, and nothing’s going to stop me this time.
Dropping the baseball bat, I throw myself into him. Our mouths meet in an electric kiss, stimulating the senses and driving me into a frenzy. My pulse starts racing. With my nerves abated, desire digs in deep and blossoms into frantic actions.
Rickon cups my ass with one hand, the other slinking down my front. It stops briefly, tugging at the thin strip holding my robe shut and exposing my body beneath.
Pulling his head back, Rickon’s tongue slithers over his lip at the sight of my body. It’s short enough to expose most of my lower body, and tight around the top to squeeze around my breasts. It leaves just enough to the imagination to make him drool for what’s waiting.
“Like what you see?” I gulp, swooning at the way he looks at me. Like I’m the only thing that matters in this world.
“Fucking love it,” he says.
I launch into him again, and though our mouths smash together passionately. We start walking, never breaking from the embrace, until we reach his car.
I only notice how far we’ve gone when Rickon’s knees buckle against the passenger side door.
“Get in,” he says, “you’re coming with me.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He opens the door and I slip inside.
He rushes around the hood, starts the engine and we start moving down the road.
But I can’t keep my hands off of him while we drive. Staring at his muscular chest, they quickly descend to his belt. Fiddling and fondling with the buckle, while his cock throbs and tenses against his jeans.
I tug at the zip and free him from it. Where I could tell he was big before, nothing could prepare me for the tower of meat stretching out of the hole.
Rickon slams on the breaks when I wrap my hand around it, grunting feverishly at the sensations rushing through him. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t stop me, just grunts and groans as I stroke the length in a loose grip.
The car starts moving again, with urgency this time, in a hurry to reach his destination.
And I’m right there with him. Sliding a hand between my legs, pleasuring him and myself, with what’s about to come.