4. Thayer
Chapter Four
Thayer
Iyell as I scramble about, trying to stop the onslaught of tongue and humping. My screams turn into giggles as I realize what’s happening. When I said I wanted a fur coat, I didn’t mean like this.
With abandon, I throw my head back in laughter. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I blink and see the very thing I wasn’t expecting.
Hardy.
The hottest fucking man ever. In nothing but boxers, showcasing his tight body and dark tone.
Fuck me. Hard.
His brow is cocked, and the look on his face makes me think he’s jealous. This damn monster of his continues licking me everywhere, including in my mouth, making me bolt upright, pushing it away as I clean my mouth.
He stands there, laughing his fucking ass off, while the gigantic shaggy monster with doggie breath continues to try to claim me as its own. They’re lucky I like them both. He finally stops laughing enough to order his fuzzball off of me.
“Lulu, get off her. Damn, I didn’t even get to do that,” he professes as he offers me a hand up.
Oh, fuck him.
“I don’t think so, asshole,” I scoff as I knock his hand away. I push up from the floor, immediately losing my balance, and fall straight into his arms.
Fuck my life.
“You sneaking out? Looks as though you were about to ditch me,” he questions me as he ogles my exposed breast. When he releases me, I adjust my shirt as I step away.
“I, uh, need to get going. I haven’t been by my parents yet; my brother’s livid.” I zone out as I recheck my phone. Three missed calls and still nothing from Christy.
“Yeah, I’m sure he is. He’d shit bricks if he’d seen you last night,” he gives an exasperated reply, crossing his arms over his body as he does.
His tone garners my attention, to which I roll my eyes once I take in his stature. Always so damn bossy. He has no clue what One would think. Honestly, I don’t want to think about it.
“How would you know? It doesn’t matter; I need to go.” Pushing past him, I reach down for one last kiss from his gorgeous Collie. “At least you have one woman who’ll stick around you.”
Turning to the door, he follows me out to the living room. He stands by the counter, still in his boxers, looking every bit as fuckable as he did the first night I met him. Only less so than this morning when he was pressed against me. Hard and unsatisfied.
“So thanks for watching out for me. I appreciate you controlling yourself around me. Mustn’t have been too hard, though.” I glance down at his barely covered cock. To my surprise, he’s still hard. My eyes bounce back to his face; he’s wearing his shit-eating grin.
“After pulling the mother fucking asshole off your unconscious body, I wasn’t in the mood. I don’t remember you drinking this way before, happens often?” Still speaking to me in his condescending tone. Asshole.
What does he mean by not in the mood? I guess he thinks he’s had better in his bed. Good. Fuck him. I’m over this; I’m over him. He keeps pushing me away, and I don’t have time for his games.
“Fine, Hardy. You’ve made it abundantly clear you don’t want me. So it’s all good. I gotta go. Keys?” I try not to glare at him but fail miserably.
His smile falls from his face, and he stands there, looking despondent. He’s practically naked, and all I can focus on is his beautiful face, marred with regret. I’m so confused.
“I’ve never said I didn’t want you, Thayer. It’s complicated. It’s so much more than this.” He motions between us, making me feel no better about his rejection. I can’t even look at him now.
“Whatever. I need to go. My keys?” I demand as I hold my hand out, looking everywhere but at him.
“Thayer. Please. Look at me.” His voice drops to deep bass, making me squeeze my thighs together as I imagine him whispering in my ear while he takes me from behind. Damn.
I have to end this now. Obviously, it isn’t going anywhere. Hardy refuses to give us a chance we deserve. The weekend we spent together meant more to me. I’m okay with that. I’d instead learn it now than to pay the ultimate price later.
“Hardy, give me my damn keys. I get it. Okay? You have made it clear; you don’t want anything to do with me. Now, fuck off.” I jerk my keys from his hand and rip the door open. Making my break for the taxi waiting for me.
I wave off the driver as he attempts to get out to open my door. I yank the door open and plop into the backseat. What the fuck is happening? I’m chasing a man who has shown me on numerous occasions he doesn’t want me. So what the hell is the draw?
I’m not the kind of girl who looks at these things like it’s a challenge. I couldn’t care less about the issues he keeps reiterating he has. Pretending to want me hurts more than his flat-out rejection.
Asshole. Hardy is the biggest prick known to womenkind. All the bullshit he spewed while we were in Clemson together was just that, bullshit. He just wanted to fuck me for a fling. A one-night-stand he could throw away. Asshole.
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I pull myself together enough to tell the driver my address. “Twelve twenty-two, Cherry Grove. Thank you.”
Tugging my phone from my jeans back pocket, I open the home screen. Scrolling through the first hundred texts, missed calls, and notifications, I see Christy has woken from the dead. I can’t believe she just let me leave last night.
Typing her a quick message, I tell her I’m good and remind her to be at my parents’ home in less than two hours. It’ll be a miracle if she makes it. It’ll be a miracle if I do. If I’m even one minute late, One is gonna have my head.
I know this because that’s precisely what his text said when I opened it. One has been in such a mood lately. Mother thinks it must be about a woman. My brother doesn’t get crazy over anything, let alone women. Not since his divorce anyway.
But he’s been weird for a week or more now. Maybe, it’s in the water? Some kind of chemical making all the men lose their shit and be dumbasses. I have no clue. All I do know is that I have ninety minutes to shower and shine.
I’m not even sure who my mother has invited to this thing. All I wanted was a family gathering, grilling by the beach, and laughs. Lots of laughs.
Pulling into my drive, the driver jumps out, but I meet him at the back, hand him his money. and sprint through my front door. I’m dropping clothes as I hurry to the shower. I don’t have time to wash this head of hair, so it’s an up-do for sure.
Toweling off, I shoot Chord a quick text asking about attire for the little party. He replies with a fast, ‘Wear shorts and a tee; she gave you your wish.’ Hot damn, a cookout. Southern-style. Our brother Chord is the baby of our family, and he’s such a sweetheart.
Hair up in a messy bun, eyes lined and winged. I slip into my red shorts and my button-up, cherry-covered white shirt. Finishing with the perfect red on my lips. My blue eyes stand out in my mass of dark hair.
Oh, yeah. “Fuck off, Hardy.”