3. Corbin
CORBIN
I managed to avoid seeing Remington for the rest of the day.
I sent him a text saying the car wasn’t ready, but I’d get it soon.
I hoped he’d be too distracted by our growing troubles with the Landrys to ask for more details, but the next day his call woke me up.
He didn’t even bother with a greeting. He just started in about needing his SUV for some reconnaissance work that night.
“I need you to get my SUV back from Beau before tonight. If he hasn’t finished it, lean on him. ”
The last thing I wanted was to be told off by Beau again. “That guy is an asshole. Can’t you use somebody else?”
“No, we most certainly cannot use someone else. He owes me because I helped get him out of prison, and he’s damn good at what he does. If there’s anything he can’t do for me, he’s got connections to people who can.”
“When I stopped by yesterday, he told me not to rush him. That he’d get to it when he got to it.”
Instead of being angry with Beau, Remington acted like it was my fault. “Assert yourself.”
I had, or at least I’d intended to. I’d thought he’d respect me because I was a Theriot. “But shouldn’t he?—”
“People don’t bow down to us automatically. You’ve been given everything your whole life. People aren’t going to give you their obedience. You’re going to have to take it.”
Just what I needed, another lecture about what a spoiled brat I was. “I want to be a part of whatever you’ve got going tonight.”
Remington was silent for several seconds before saying, “You can be our driver.”
I knew in his mind he was making a concession by allowing his kid brother to drive the getaway car, but I wanted more.
I wanted him to stop excluding me from all the exciting shit he and Lance and our cousin Dax did.
I wanted to argue, but then he would push me out completely.
What did I have to do to prove myself to him? “All right, fine. I’ll have the car.”
I called Beau’s shop and talked to one of the other mechanics who said I could pick up the SUV just before closing time.
That meant I had several hours to wait around.
I didn’t need down time. All I’d done after getting home the night before was think about Beau, his self-satisfied grin when he’d caught me watching him, and how fucking sexy he was. I hated how much I wanted him.
Disgusted with myself, I headed to a bar. It was the middle of the day, but this was New Orleans; there were always people drinking, and plenty of them needed a hookup as badly as I did.
I ordered a drink and started chatting up a woman with long blond hair and striking green eyes.
She made her interest in me clear. Normally in that situation, I would’ve had her out of there before either of us had finished our first drink, but every time I imagined what it would be like to kiss her, my thoughts were interrupted by images of a tall, bulky man with a scowl on his face and command in his voice.
Had he put some kind of fucking spell on me?
Whatever had happened, I wasn’t going to be decent company for anyone else.
When I’d finished my drink, I paid for it, wished the woman a good day, and got the hell out of there.
I ended up back home, horny and frustrated as fuck.
It had taken me forever to fall asleep the night before.
I’d refused to give into my fantasies about Beau, but I couldn’t take it anymore.
I couldn’t get him out of my head no matter what I did, so maybe if I indulged my fantasies a little, I’d finally be able to forget him.
After I locked my bedroom door, I stripped off my clothes and flopped down on the bed.
I retrieved the lube from my nightstand, then rolled onto my back and squirted some onto my cock.
I worked myself slowly at first, letting my mind wander, imagining what would have happened if I’d continued to argue with Beau.
Would he have tried to make me leave? What if I’d threatened him?
Would he have tried to punish me for disobeying him?
Would he have followed through with the promise I saw in his eyes to show me he was the one in charge, the one who gave the orders?
I imagined him grabbing me, dragging me back to his office, pushing the door shut, and pinning me against it.
I would try to fight him, but I wouldn’t be able to push him away.
He’d capture my wrists and hold them against the door as he ground his body against mine and told me all the ways he wanted to assert his dominance over me.
I would keep fighting, pretending I didn’t want him.
My cock would be so hard, dripping with precum, desperate for him to follow through on all his threats.
Finally, he’d grow tired of my protests, and he’d kiss me to shut me up. I would open for him, letting him shove his tongue inside me, letting him fuck my mouth with it. I’d let him seduce me with his kisses until I was practically climbing him, begging him for what I’d pretended not to want.
He’d drag me away from the door then and use his free hand to sweep all the papers from his desk as he pushed me down over it. He’d undo my pants and shove them down, letting them pool at my ankles and trap my legs.
He’d hold me down with his hands on my shoulders as I gripped the far side of the desk, and he wouldn’t be gentle as he fucked me. He would use me, and I would beg for more.
My hand moved quickly on my cock. I was so close. Thinking about Beau made me hotter than any of my other favorite fantasies. I’d never reacted to a man like I had to him. Why did I have to feel this way about someone who was such a fucking ass? I didn’t want to want him, but I did. Desperately.
I imagined him using his hands on my body to pull me back to meet every thrust, going harder and harder until I was whimpering and begging, so desperate to come, so needy, I would be willing to do anything he wanted.
Then he would order me to come, and I would do it, hands free, as he drove himself into me, as he used me and filled me up with his cum.
My orgasm was so intense I nearly bit through my lip trying to keep my shout inside. Spasm after spasm racked my body as cum coated my hand and shot across my torso. When it finally ended, I sank into the mattress and tried to remember how to breathe.
I lay there staring at the ceiling, cursing Beau because even that intense orgasm hadn’t banished him from my mind.
It was like he was still there taunting me, reminding me the real thing would be so much better.
I had to find a way to get over this because, as much as I might enjoy the fantasy, I would never give in to him like that in real life.
I used a t-shirt I’d tossed on the floor to clean myself up, then dressed quickly and hurried outside.
I knew one thing that was sure to help me forget Beau and everything else on my mind—a long, reckless ride on my motorcycle, the one Remy had threatened to destroy if I got one more ticket.
I huffed. No wonder he got along with Beau. They both thought they were so much better than me. What was wrong with having a little fun?
Losing your license?
That wasn’t really going to happen, though, was it? Not with the connections we had.
I hopped on my bike and took off, tearing through the streets of Metairie to the sounds of honks and shouts. I was flipped off so many times I lost count as I headed out of town and into the backwoods where no one gave a fuck how fast I drove.
An hour later, I came home feeling exhilarated, even if I’d thought several times about how awesome it would be to ride behind Beau with my arms wrapped around him. The asshole would probably refuse to take me since he wanted to treat me like a fucking child.
With that thought, the calm I’d achieved evaporated. Fucking Beau. He damn well better have Remington’s car ready.
When the time finally came, I stepped into Beau’s shop, trying to radiate confidence when inside I was a mix of anger, fear, and desire—not a good combination, and one I’d never admit to.
Beau was once again at the counter. Did he ever actually work on the cars? The grease on his hands and the stains on his coveralls said yes, but it satisfied me to imagine him pushing the work off on everyone else. Maybe he wasn’t really as good as Remington thought.
I might wish that, but I knew it wasn’t the case. I was sure Beau had done the work on Remy’s SUV himself, and it was fucking impressive. I didn’t have to know much about engines to know that.
Beau glanced up when I entered, then went back to what he was doing.
I did not like being ignored. “I hope you have my brother’s car ready.”
“Or what?”
I glared at him, hating that I had no good comeback. “You need to show me more respect.”
He looked up at me then, his expression thunderous. “Respect needs to be earned. Your father has my respect. Your older brother has my respect. You haven’t proven yourself yet.”
“And you have? What have you done that?—”
“The car is ready.” He tossed me the keys, and I barely managed to catch them before they hit me in the face.
“Head outside, turn right around the side of the building, and you’ll see it.”
“You’re not going to bring it around for me?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m busy.”
“You have other people working here, so you could?—”
“It’s been a long day. I made time in my schedule to get Remington’s car finished. Take it and get out of here.”
“You can’t talk to me like that.”
He looked me up and down, and I hated the way it made my body heat. “And you can’t come into my business and tell me what to do or how to run things. Now, if you don’t want me calling Remington to let him know I refuse to deal with you anymore, you need to leave.”
I stared at him. “Did you really just threaten to tell my brother on me?”
“When kids act up, somebody has to discipline them.”
He looked up at me again, his eyes seeing far too deep into me, and I hated the way I immediately thought of him being the one to discipline me.
I hated him for making me feel small and for pointing out how I didn’t control things myself.
He was right, but it was hardly my fault.
No one else in my family would give me a chance.
I was sick and tired of everybody treating me like I was a child.
I had a feeling Beau wasn’t bluffing, and if he called Remy, anything I might’ve gained by getting Remy’s car and bringing it to him on time would be lost. Without another word, I turned and walked out.