2. Hardy
Chapter Two
Hardy
What the fuck does she think she’s doing? Christy better makes fucking sure she watches her. Mother fucking, steroid-bound asshole, best get his hands off her.
She’s pushing my fucking buttons, and she knows it. Drinking like an alcoholic and showing her ass like she is. She wants to see me get locked up, no mother fucking doubt.
Bending over in front of him while he rides her ass like he’s fucking her. Goddamn it. That’s bullshit right there. I can feel my face flame; I’m so pissed.
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to keep myself from ripping this dude apart. Why would she even act like this? She knows our deal.
Anger wells up inside me until all I can do is shake my head at her ridiculous behavior. Seriously, what the hell is she thinking? I’ve stood here long enough; I’m sick of her dry-humping this asshole.
Why must she be so persistent? I told her we couldn’t do this. There’s too much at stake. Too many factors involved for it to ever work. Losing her number and blocking her would’ve been in my best interest. There’s just something about her; I can’t walk away.
I continue to watch her act as if she has no control over her actions. Downing drink after drink, making one wrong choice after the other. What is she thinking?
I paid the waitress a lot of money to start watering down her drinks. She’s so far gone now it’ll take sleep to run this through her system.
The minute her eyes find mine, they lock into my soul. Her stormy blue eyes have never been far from my memory. Her lips have ruined me for any other woman. I want her, and she knows it.
Out of the corner of my eye, something gets my attention. I catch a glimpse of her, then a full shot. I see she’s walking off the dance floor, straight toward me. Damn it. What the fuck? Why is she coming over here?
Seconds later, she stands inches from me, staring into my eyes. Daring me to take her. I want her. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. But I can’t have her. I can never love her the way I want to.
Her eyes become glassy when I don’t respond to her. She has no clue why I won’t act on my feelings. To be honest, I’m not sure why I won’t either. Everything has changed; I’ve changed. There’s so much I want to tell her, I need to say to her, but I just stand there, watching.
The blood in my veins pumps wildly at her proximity to me. My cock strains as her scent hit me full throttle, as if her shaking her ass all over the dance floor wasn’t enough for him to cry foul. She comes closer to us as if willing him to take her, here and now.
I could bury so deep in her; she wouldn’t recognize her own heartbeat fearing it was my pumping of her pussy. The thought alone has me creaming. I bite the inside of my cheek to calm myself and my raging hard-on.
Our standoff continues until I see it in her eyes, the moment she gives up. She walks away with a sway to her hips and determination, reminding me of a very bullheaded person I know. She’s gonna be the death of me.
What’s worse, she takes my heart with her as she goes, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Truth be told, I want to chase her. But this will never work. Why the fuck did this have to happen? I should’ve walked away that night. Now, I’m afraid I never will.
I watch as she walks back to her table, throwing back another drink before returning to her ass-shaking and dry-humping of the mother fucker she’s chosen to use to make me angry. Employing someone to make me jealous is juvenile as hell. Damn it, if it’s not working.
Planting herself in the middle of the dance floor, she immediately starts to ride the Cro-Magnon she left earlier. She has no clue what she’s doing. Why the hell did I even come here? I should leave her here to clean this shit up herself, damn it.
I need to change my number. I’ve got to stop reading every text she sends; I wouldn’t be here if not. It’s as if she’s determined to get me to take her to bed. To fuck her the way I want to so badly. To mark her and make her mine.
The way she’s dancing with him, grinding her ass on him, it’s dangerous. Men get ideas, wrong ideas. What the mother fucking hell? He’s got his Goddamned hands on her ass. I’m going to kill him, and then I’m going to kill her.
If she thinks this is going to make me jealous, she better think again. The only thing this show of hers is accomplishing is making me angry. Moreover, she’s putting herself in danger. Hardy’s all over her body like he owns it. Like he owns her. I’ll be damned if that’ll ever happen.
I need to do something before things get outta hand. Losing my temper isn’t going to help her if she needs it. The way she’s acting, she’s gonna need it. He’s practically swallowing her face whole. I can’t even watch it. That shit’s nasty.
They’re all over each other. This shit show can’t get much worse. I don’t know if I should get pissed or throw up. Who the fuck does he think he is, touching her like that? He doesn’t deserve her. She’s better than the likes of him. She’s better than me.
What’s going on? He’s whispering in her ear. Asshole. Probably telling her a line of horse shit. Trying to be suave. Is she actually smiling at that shit? You’ve got to be fucking kidding. She’s acting as if she’s never heard a line of bullshit in her life.
Total dick move or not, she’s with him, in the middle of the dance floor, wrapped around him, acting like a damn fool. I can’t handle this shit. Her ass filling his hands. His kisses filling her mouth. And all I do is stand here. Watching.
Turning slowly, she looks at me. Waiting. For what? I can’t have her; what the fuck does she want from me? Her eyes flutter shut, pausing ever so slightly. Opening her eyes again, I see it. Burning. Like the inferno she is, she’ll incinerate everything in her path.
I want to be the kindling to her flame. I want to taste her the way he has and in so many other ways. I want to bury so fucking deep in her, she never loses sight of who we are to each other. I can’t live without her, and by God, I can’t have her.
Looking into her eyes, I see it before she even realizes what she’s going to do. Her spirit burns with desire, taking the choice out of her hands. She’ll do whatever it takes. Holding nothing back to get what she wants. Whatever she needs to do to make me hers.
Tilting her head, she moves into his neck, close to his ear. Her mouth moves subtly, and then, without a second thought, his head nods in understanding. He’ll do what she asks. He does what I will not.
Mother fucker, they’re leaving.
Before I can get my emotions under control, my feet move faster than my mind. And my heart. I barrel through the door on my way to the parking lot to plow a new damn road through his fucking ass.
Looking around quickly, I almost miss them. I set off in a dead run to get to her. Son of a bitch has her laid out on the hood of her car. I’m about to fucking blow my mother fucking lid. He’s on top of her, kissing her as he holds her legs around his waist.
I might just kill him after all.
Before I have a chance to think, I spin him around to face me. I ask no questions. Say no words. My fists are on him as I pummel the fucking bastard. Blood splatters me just as the ass-hat drops to his knees and falls forward.
Stopping long enough to wipe the blood from my knuckles, I turn to find her. Still lying on the hood of the car, passed out cold. I’m livid as I think what could’ve happened to her. He could’ve raped her. What the fuck was she thinking?
Throwing her over my shoulder, I’m halfway to my truck before I realize I can’t take her to her new place. I have her keys, but I’m sure nothing is set up, so she’s going home with me. Whether that be a blessing or a curse, I’ll soon find out.
The drive home is shorter than the last time I was with her. She’s back in Cherry Grove now; Clemson was almost the death of me. It’s the first time I laid eyes on her. Every man in the room wanted her, but I was the only one who was going to get her.
Waiting for her to cross the room, there was no doubt she’s one gorgeous woman. Her body was made for sin, and every man in the room longed to break any promise they had ever made to stay faithful. Her full, red lips could bring the strongest man to his knees.
When she stopped in front of me and introduced herself, I just knew I had finally won the lottery. I failed miserably at playing it cool, but by the end of the night, she had convinced me to stay the weekend.
Just like the first time we met, she knew exactly what she was doing tonight. Why the hell would she put herself in harm’s way? Acting like a fucking teenager isn’t going to help her cause. Reckless as fucking hell.
Why would any sensible young woman put herself in danger like this? It had to be her wanting my attention. That’s all I can come up with.
Her lips part as she lies sleeping beside me; she’s breathtaking. I’m so far gone; I can’t even think straight. I fall deeper down the rabbit hole as her chest rises and falls, rooting herself deep into me.
Thoughts of her in my bed spin out of control. Waking up with her by my side is all I’ve ever wanted since meeting her. How will I ever rid myself of her?
Once we arrive at my place, I pull into the garage, so my neighbors won’t see me carrying her in. I unbuckle her seatbelt and throw her over my shoulder. Yeah, I grab her fine ass to help hold her in place. What’s a man gonna do?
Kicking the door closed, I make a beeline for my room. Laying her on my bed, I try to decide if I should stay. How many times have I dreamed of having her in my bed? What the hell am I thinking?
She stirs with a slight moan. I try to back out of the room as I hear another cry. She tries to say something as she rolls to her side. Sitting up, she looks at me as if she recognizes where she is.
“Hey. You alright? You look as though you’re going to be sick,” I question her as I watch her struggle to stand upright.
“No. Pee.” Slurring her words as she walks out the bedroom door. I have an en-suite, but I guess she didn’t see it.
Bouncing from wall to door to the wall, she stands in the hallway. About the time it hits me, what is wrong with her? She doubles over. Hurrying her to the hall bath, we almost make it.
Three a.m., and I’ve cleaned the whole bathroom. I throw her clothes in the washer but get a little nervous about drying them, so I hang them up to dry.
I text Christy when she hit Thayer’s phone up. I really want to blast her ass for letting Thayer leave with that asshole but left it a simple statement, all is good. Besides, how the hell will she know if Thayer is really okay?
The thought honestly pisses me the fuck off as I think of how I found my girl. Oh, hell no. It’s time for some sleep; I’m talking crazy shit now.
Sleeping in the extra bedroom or even in the living room would have been the most intelligent thing to do, but I tend to lose every good thought when I’m around her.
After she had ruined her clothes and bra, I put her in one of my dress shirts.
The strength it took for me to button that shirt can only be compared to superhuman power.
She’s still wearing her turquoise panties and even sprawled on my bed; I’ve never seen her look more beautiful.
I’m a better man than I give myself credit for. Pausing at the end of my bed, I watch her sleep. She’s on my pillow, her leg thrown over the comforter. My dress shirt shifted to the side, showing her perfect ass. Just to think, another man was so close to making her his.
Pulling my shirt over my head, I debate how to sleep with her. My decision isn’t based on anything but carnal thoughts. I just want to feel her beside me. The skin on skin. So I drop my pants and climb in on the opposite side.
When the bed shifts from my weight, she rolls over into my side. Focusing on her features, I see things that escaped me our first night together. With a deep sigh, I give in as I watch her until I fall into the most restful sleep I’ve had in years.