Slade
Page 28

 Victoria Ashley

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
Hemy gives me a hard look before backing away and finding the closest chick to start grinding on. We may push each other’s buttons, but we’ve figured out in the past just how far to push each other. We’re not going that f**king route again.
“Are you serious?” Aspen reaches for her purse and starts heading for the door. “I really cannot stand you. First you f**k me and then you throw me out like trash and now you ruin my fun. What the hell goes on in your twisted mind?” She moves faster as I fall into step behind her. “Huh? Huh? What?”
“None of your business. All you need to know is that you’re acting like a f**king fool. If you think Hemy will treat you any better than me, then you’re f**king mistaking. He will take you home and call over a buddy while they both f**k you until you’re sore. Then they will wake up and f**k you again. You will still end up alone in the end results. Hemy is not going to make things any better.”
She yanks the door open and rushes outside before turning around to yell at me. “So, what the hell does it matter? It seems that no one wants me. I’m not enough for anyone. Might as well just f**k them all then. I’m so tired of it. So tired of everyone treating me like I’m worth nothing but sex. What is so wrong with me?”
I watch as she turns around and stomps over to her friend’s car. She struggles with unlocking the door while trying to balance on her heels. “Don’t you f**king get in that car.” I stride over and yank the keys from her hand. “You’re not driving.”
She reaches for the keys, but I hold them up high so she can’t reach them. She slaps my chest and pushes me. “Give. Me. The. Keys.”
I shove them in my front pocket and push up against her until her body is pinned against the car. “No. You’re not driving. You’re f**king drunk.” I pin her hands above her head as she struggles against me. “And you are f**king enough. We’re all just f**king ass**les. You need to know that.”
She stops struggling against me and looks me in the eyes. I see a hint of her there but I can tell that she’s pretty close to wasted. After a few seconds, she pulls one of her arms free and reaches into my pocket digging for the keys. I feel her hand brush over my c**k and it instantly gets hard. “Give it to me, dammit.”
I yank her hand out of my pocket and pin it back against the car while roughly pushing my body against hers. “I said you’re not f**king driving. I’ll call us a cab. Try reaching for those keys again and I will f**king tie your ass up with my belt.”
“Why the f**k do you care? Now you want to be the good guy?” She laughs and pushes me away with her knee. I back off and give her the space she needs. She looks hurt now. I can’t deal with that. “Get off me. I’ll be over here.” She starts walking away. “In the bushes waiting.”
I don’t understand why, but I just want to get this woman home and in bed; in my f**king bed.
* * *
By the time we get back to the house, the full effects of the shots must have kicked in. She’s slurring her words and laughing at absolutely nothing at all. It almost makes me want to laugh, but I’m too f**king annoyed to enjoy this.
She laughs even harder as I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. “My ass is showing.” She starts tugging on her dress and squirming in my arms. “My thong! My thong!”
I slap her ass to stop her from moving. “No one cares. We’re the only ones here and I have already seen your ass.”
“Yeah. And a whole lot more.” She begins pulling up the hem of my shirt, revealing my back. She inserts the tips of her fingers under the waistband of my jeans, lightly caressing my ass. It kind of tickles until she digs her nails into my skin and scratches upward. “I want to see more of you. Strip.” She continues to scratch up my back, hard, causing me tip her back up.
I grab her ass cheeks in my hands and she instantly wraps her legs around my waist. She bites the skin on my neck playfully as she reaches for my belt. I start walking up the stairs toward my bedroom. “Take it off, dirty stripper boy,” she says teasingly. “I love your body. It’s so sexy. I just want to lick it and taste.”
As turned on as I am by her biting me and trying to strip me, I keep my f**king cool and toss her on my bed before walking out of my room and slamming the door behind me. I can’t let this shit happen for two reasons: number one, she’s drunk. Number two, it’s against my f**king rules.
Shit. I need a cold shower.
I take my time in the shower before quietly making my way up the stairs and to my room. When I walk in, I notice right away that she is sleeping. She’s managed to strip out of her dress and heels and is now wearing one my favorite shirts. I have to admit, I like seeing her in it. She looks beautiful; like a f**king angel.
I reach for a cigarette and light it while pacing around my room and watching her sleep. She looks so f**king peaceful lying there. A part of me wants to crawl into bed next to her and hold her in my f**king arms, but the smarter part of me is reminding me of what a horrible idea that is. So instead, I dig out my favorite picture of Helena, grab the chair and pull it next to the window and sit.
I stare at the picture until my eyes blur. I haven’t looked at this in almost a year. It hurts. It hurts so f**king badly that I can’t breathe . . . but there is something making it a little easier. Someone that makes me want it to be easier. That thought scares me.
I must sit there for about an hour, in the dark with my hands wrapped in my hair before I hear her mumbling and moving around. When I look up, I see that her eyes are opened and she’s staring right at me.
“Talk to me, dammit,” she says.
I feel an ache in my chest at the thought of talking about it. I’ve been holding in my emotions for so long; for too long. Maybe it’s time to get it out. She’ll be gone in a couple days anyways. Maybe this will help ease some shit in my head.
Here goes f**king nothing . . .
I jump to my feet, toss the picture on the bed and try to hold back the tears. “Her name was Helena Valentine. She was my fiancé and was carrying my child.”
Chapter Fourteen
Aspen
Oh. My. God.
I feel an ache in the pit of my stomach and a part of me feels like puking. Was. He said was. I blink a few times to focus my vision before reaching for the picture next to my feet and rubbing my thumb over it. It’s moist and the color is smeared. It wasn’t like that last time I saw it.