Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
BETH
"B ethany!" My mother screams my name from the living room and I drop my pen on my notebook before standing up.
"Coming," I respond quickly, sighing. Even though I hear the buzzing of my phone, I leave it behind, knowing it's either Nigel or Judy. For one, I didn't give Nigel my number. I adamantly refused to give it to him so what did the prick do? He stole my phone and texted himself from it so he would have it. I tried blocking his number, but that just led to him breaking into my room and unblocking himself. I've tried three fucking times. After the last time, I gave up. I also ignore ninety percent of the texts and calls I get from him, but that doesn't stop him from sending them.
When the hell will he give up?
"What's up?" I ask, hugging my sweater around my body.
She gives me a rare smile before pulling her car keys out of her pocket. "Would you be a dear and take my car for an oil change and new tires? I'd do it but I'm so tired from work today. I desperately need a nap and a hot bath."
Translation: I need to get drunk and pass out in a pool of my own vomit.
I nod and take her keys. "Sure. No problem."
All refusing does is piss her off and I've barely recovered from the last time she slapped me. I don't need a new one.
"Thank you, baby." She grins and practically skips to the kitchen. I roll my eyes and grab my wallet off of the table in the entryway before heading out to her car.
I don't need this shit, but these are the cards I've been dealt. I have an alcoholic mother, a psycho stalker, and a new bestie stuck on dating my stalker's friend.
Oh joy.
* * *
I pull up to the mechanic shop a few lights away from our neighborhood and climb out, holding my wallet and the car keys. I should've stopped for some food before coming here, but I can always do that after they finish up with her car.
I pull open the front door of the rundown shop before walking inside. However, I freeze when my gaze snags on the massive man next to the desk wearing a mechanic's get-up and I recognize him instantly.
The town psychopath himself. What did Judy say his name was? Oliver?
I left the house and purposefully left my phone behind to have a reprieve from Nigel and his overbearing bullshit and I run into one of his fucking friends.
Fuck my life.
I walk up to the desk, feeling the psycho's eyes burning a hole in my temple, as I talk to the receptionist.
"Hi. I need to get an oil change and new tires if possible," I say as sweetly as I possibly can. Sometimes it's hard to drop the "preacher's daughter" facade everyone has to see who isn't directly involved in my life.
"Sure—" the receptionist starts but she's quickly cut off.
"Your business isn't welcome here."
My body stiffens when I hear his voice, that thick and deep yet velvety smooth tone I distinctly remember from the night of the party. Though my mind knows to stay the fuck away from that psycho, my body hasn't gotten the message that he is The Bad News Bear. Every inch of me reacts to everything from his size, his voice, to his smell.
It's different from the way I react to Nigel or anyone else. It's potent, toxic and lethal.
I turn my head to look at him and the way he glares at me should make me run and hide, but I'm probably an idiot on some level.
"Excuse me?" My eyes widen.
"I said, your business—your money—is no good here. Find another shop," he demands, venom on his tongue.
What is his problem? He didn't have a problem with me at the party. As a matter of fact, he seemed quite interested in my presence in general. Now, he looks like I kicked his puppy.
"Why?" I press, holding my head high.
"Because," he hisses. "I fucking said so."
I glare at his stupid, drop dead gorgeous face. "Oooo, I'm so scared," I mutter sarcastically before rolling my eyes. "What authority do you have? I doubt you own this shop and I don't think your boss would appreciate you turning away business."
His eyebrows drop, darkening the already intimidating look he gives me. "Everyone fucking listens to me because they don't want to see what will happen if they don't. Leave. Now." He turns his eyes to the receptionist who cowers with fear potent in her eyes. "Don't fucking check her in."
"Ye-ye-yes, Oliver." She is practically shaking in her boots as he walks away. "You should listen to him, dear. I've seen him pissed off and trust me when I say you don't want to witness it." She offers a smile before glancing over her shoulder at him retreating into the shop.
I don't move. I cross my arms over my chest before smirking at her.
"Can you get me your boss, please?"
I'm not going to put up with him throwing a fit, even if he is scary as hell. I'm not afraid of asking for a manager. I will gladly do it and getting him fired might just make me feel a bit giddy before he kills me.
"Miss—" she starts, the fear ticking up in her eyes.
"Please," I press, but she just sighs before pressing a button on her desk.
"Mr. Vargas, there's a young lady who would like to speak with you."
I watch through the door as Oliver's head snaps around and his eyes land on me completely unmoved. I lift my hand and give him a little finger wave. The look on his face is enough to say he isn't used to people defying his orders.
Checkmate, asshole.
His face turns red as he charges for the door and I take one deep breath, knowing I just loosened the valve on whatever restraint he has. I ready myself for him to burst through the door, strangle me, beat me—whatever he chooses, but when he pushes the door open, he charges at me and presses his shoulder into my waist, throwing me over his shoulder.
I scream from the shock and kick him in the stomach, but it doesn't stop him at all. Instead, he carries me out the back door as if I weight nothing.
He has fucking lost his mind.
"Put me down, you fucking neanderthal!" I smack his back and, in response, he slaps my ass so hard I yelp and feel the vibrations of my spanking all the way down to my toes and as deep as my cunt.
I never thought I would be into being spanked, but I was wrong. I'm so fucking wet and it's beyond inappropriate for this situation. I'm definitely not fucking this psycho.
"Shut up before I fuck you with the wrong end of my blade."
My eyes widen. Did he just threaten to stab me in my pussy?
"What is your problem?" I knee him in the chest again, which just earns me another hard slap on my ass. I have no control over the surprised moan that falls from my lips as he throws open the back door and carries me out. The back of the shop is just cars for the employees, I assume that's who they belong to, and a ten foot high fence that can't be seen through.
Worst of all, we're alone—completely and utterly alone. I'm trapped with this psycho and there is no one coming to save me.
He reaches a black Mustang and slams my body into the hood, the pain vibrating through all of me. I hiss from the ache and immediately jump into fight mode as he grabs for my legs. I claw at his perfect face and he grabs my wrists, slamming them against the hood of the car.
"Fuck you!" I growl at him with the same intensity I find in his angry eyes.
"I said, shut up. Don't you know how to follow simple instructions?" he presses, but I just snap my teeth at his face to show I'm not the docile little flower like he might think I am. Everyone underestimates me. Why would this idiot be any different?
"Oh, I'm sorry, Oliver. I don't roll over for toxic masculinity. Sorry, not sorry."
Maybe it was the fog of anger or my attention being on his face, but I suddenly realize his body is wedge between my thighs and his crotch is pressing against my panty-covered cunt, my skirt sticking to his grease soaked jeans. And…holy shit. He's hard and feels really big. I guess my original assumption was correct. A man his size packs a lot of heat, enough to break a woman my size.
He snaps his teeth back at me, a growl rumbling from his chest, and the action has his cock rubbing against me.
"You have a lot of sass for someone so stupid. Do you have any clue who the fuck I am or what I could do to you…or are you just a whore looking to get fucked?" His final words stun me.
My imagination could come up with a million different ways he could kill me and I'm fully aware of who he is, but that last one is what has me shocked. What makes him think I would want him?
I do, no matter how unsettling that is. It's not my fault. I didn't ask to meet the devil with the face of an angel.
A deep growl rumbles from his chest as he moves in closer to me, pressing his hips harder against mine. "You're soaking through my pants, princess."
Oh, shit.
Fuck me.
Goddamn it.
I can't decide which curse to settle on because that was supposed to be the secret I would take to my grave. He wasn't supposed to know how attracted I am to him.
However, I have a knack for letting my pride run not only my mouth but my actions as well.
"Fuck you. I'm not a fucking whore."
"Say what you want but your cunt hasn't gotten the message," he grunts before grinding against me and a loud moan escapes me, earning an evil grin from him. "You don't fucking belong in this neighborhood, princess."
"Stop calling me princess. I'm not a fucking princess." However, I am grateful for the subject change.
He chuckles. "You sure dress like one. You and every other entitled rich bitch aren't welcome in this neighborhood. When I tell you to leave, you fucking leave and don't come back. All girls like you are good for is a quick fuck."
Wait. Does he think I'm one of those hoity toity types that Judy and I talked about? If he's come to this conclusion because of what I've been wearing every time we've interacted, that would only be because my mother bought me a whole new wardrobe before we moved here. She threw away my old clothes like my jeans covered in holes or stained tees. I mean, my new clothes are really nice, but I didn't think they were up to that standard.
I throw my head back and laugh like a fucking maniac before I shake my head at him. "We live in the same neighborhood, dumbass. Also, if you're going to say I'm only good for a quick fuck, you should make sure Nigel is aware. He hasn't gotten the memo no matter how many times I've forwarded it to his inbox."
His eyes narrow. It looks like I've pissed off the beast. I wonder what part of that statement did it. "He's not going to get it until you're dead. Unless you want to hasten the process, I suggest you leave and stay out of my way."
I scowl up at him before whispering, "Not going to happen. I don't respond well to threats. Get off me or I'll claw your eyeballs from their sockets."
Then, his lips pull up into a devious smirk. "What a coincidence. Neither. Do. I."
He glares right back at me and when it becomes clear neither of us are going to back down, he pulls me to my feet by my hands still in his iron grip. I try to wrench out of his hold, but it's for nil. Instead of doing something I would expect, he forces me down hard on my knees in front of him, holding my wrists hostage in one of his massive hands behind my head. I try to fight the hold, but then he starts to lower his zipper only a foot from my face and my eyes go wide.
What the fuck is he doing?
"This is going to go one of two ways. Either I'll make you bleed from all three holes or I slit your throat right here. The choice is yours. I have zero qualms with killing you, Not-A-Fucking-Princess."
I…actually believe that. I believe he would kill me with no remorse at all and sleep like a baby while my blood still wets the ground. Contrary to my actions, I don't want to die, but what the fuck does he mean by "bleed from all three holes"? Is that supposed to be something I should understand?
Then, he whips out his massive cock and…I instantly get it. His dick puts the ones in anime porn to shame and that is not intended as a compliment. I can't even say he should work in porn with the size of his male appendage. He would kill more women than he pleased if that was his chosen field of work.
I've never seen a cock so big in my life. Granted, I've only had sex with three guys, one of which I can't remember at all, but I've seen a lot of them. I've seen small dicks and big dicks, but this is a new one for the record books.
"Make your choice," he demands, stroking his hand up and down his shaft.
It's official. My pussy is broken. There is no way that a new flood of wetness just soaked my panties at the thought of that monster cock making me bleed from all three holes. I fucking hate pain, but for some reason, I like it when he causes it.
I swear, I'm going to kill this man one day.
"Well?" he presses, a growl on the tip of his tongue. Then, the bastard tightens his grip on his cock and the fucker slaps me hard across the cheek with it with enough force that it should've damaged the massive appendage.
I gasp from the shock and throb in my cheek before giving him a dirty look. I reluctantly open my mouth, letting my tongue fall out. His eyes immediately darken and the lust I feel coursing through my body is mirrored on his face.
He presses his cock into my mouth and my eyes slam shut as I feel my lips splitting around his tip. I swear, my jaw is so close to dislocating from the strain as he pushes into my mouth and forcing his way into my throat. My body jerks and I instinctively try to yank myself from his hold, but his fingers tighten, keeping me exactly where he wants me.
It's painful and difficult, but my clit vibrates from the experience. I should not be this hot and bothered.
Stop getting so fucking turned on! This man is torturing you! I curse at my cunt and the bitch practically whispers "nuh-uh" in my ear.
What the fuck, estúpida?
I feel the blood stream down my chin as I gag around his cock and he thrusts deeper and deeper, grunting while his fingers tighten around my wrist.
"Fuuuck," he curses. "Your pussy better be half as good as this or I'll be disappointed."
Fucking asshole.
It takes me half a second to realize his hand is gone from my wrists and I'm gagging myself on his cock willingly. There's no force present and I'm…enjoying this. I'm enjoying the torment he's putting me through.
I've lost my damn mind. Either that or my deranged vagina has taken over my actions. Both possibilities have an equal likelihood at this point.
The beast rips his cock from my mouth and I gasp, feeling the sting of my lips split in the corners. It hurts to keep my mouth closed from the cracks, but I'm not going to keep it open to invite that torment again. He wraps his fingers around my throat and drags me to my feet, cutting off my airway.
The lack of oxygen doesn't cause the panic I expect it to, almost like my body thinks it's safe with this psycho. Hell, he threatened to kill me a minute ago and my body likes what he's doing.
"If you piss me off again, princess, I won't just make you bleed from all three holes. I'll make some more of my own and fuck those before I put a bullet between your eyes. You got me?"
I keep my mouth closed, even as the black spots break across my vision. My lungs scream, but I don't even attempt to stop him from strangling me. Life is breathed into his eyes as he figures out exactly what I'm doing. I'm exactly as strong as him. It's only in a different way.
If being defiant means death, then so fucking be it. I will not yield to the demands of a madman.
He releases my throat and I gasp before coughing up a lung. The air that enters is painful but also releases a mass of endorphins that race throughout my entire body.
I don't have a moment to catch my breath before Oliver pushes me against the hood of his car, smooshing my face into the metal. I don't fight as he pushes my skirt over my ass and tugs down my panties to my knees.
"You're fucking crazy. Do you know that?"
Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?
Am I crazy though? I prefer the term headstrong. I don't put up with other people's bullshit.
He runs his fingers between my thighs and he growls when he feels my wetness as I moan.
"Well, well, well…aren't you a pain slut and dirty little fuck toy all rolled into one?"
My hips grind down on his fingers as he grazes my clit and my body purrs.
"Wha-wha-what are you doing?" Is he really going to do this out in the open? I was surprised enough that he expected to fuck my mouth outside, but I figured he would drag me into one of the cars out here before fucking me.
"What do you think I'm doing? I'm about to fuck your…" He trails off as he presses two fingers inside me and my entire body shudders with pleasure. A loud whimper echoes from my chest as he grunts in my ear. "…tight as fuck pussy. Jesus fucking Christ. I've never had a cunt this tight before."
My gaze races around the area, checking for any on-lookers.
"What if someone sees us?" I gasp as he shoves another finger inside me.
"Then, let them watch. I'm not opposed to an audience." He pulls out his fingers and replaces them with his cock. Out of instinct, I reach down and grab the grill for support as he forces his way in. My pussy tears around him and I fucking scream from the intense pain radiating through my core, ten times worse than what he did to my mouth, way worse than when I lost my virginity.
And, yet I'm still wet, dripping even, and my core weeps more than just blood. My cunt stings with the force as tears race down my face. My clit hasn't gotten the message that this shouldn't be pleasurable. She thinks this is the best sex she's ever had.
I've lost my goddamn mind and am entering a psychosis.
"God-fucking-dammit!" he yells as he grips tight onto my hip with one hand and my neck with the other. "Fucking hell. Your pussy is way better than your mouth. No wonder Nigel is so stuck on you. He's hypnotized by this magical cunt."
Fucking bastard.
He pulls out and thrusts back into me, extending the agony, but my body loves every second of the torment. My hips rock and meet him thrust for thrust, begging for more of the delicious pain and pleasure cocktail he delivers.
I moan from how good it feels and sob from the anguish.
I doubt there is a woman on Earth that would be able to have sex with this beast without being in horrible pain, but I can't say I hate this. Actually, I fucking love it—the depravity, the ecstasy, the sex-induced psychosis—and that fucking scares me.
He's delving into the darkest parts of my soul and I don't want to be faced with that. I'm not ready to see that part of me and have to look at myself in the mirror every day after. For that single reason alone, Oliver Doyle is scary and too fucking dangerous for me to be around.