“No underwear?” I ask and raise an eyebrow.
“Nope. I was looking to get laid tonight, so I wanted to make it as easy as possible,” she says matter-of-factly.
She straddles me and lifts my shirt over my head. I reach over to the end table and open the drawer. She laughs and grabs a condom out. Just as quickly, I take it from her. I have to put it on, and I always use my own. Don’t trust the bitches.
“You ready?” I ask.
“I’m ready.”
“Good.”
After rolling on the latex, I lift her by her hips, and she grabs my dick. Slowly, she sinks down on me, and I close my eyes. I don’t like to watch, I just want to feel. It only takes a few minutes before she starts riding me harder, and I pump up into her, frantically chasing the moment where there is no past, no pain, and no memories.
We climax at the same time, and she rolls off me, clearly not wanting more. Thank God.
I wordlessly pull my jeans back on, toss the condom in the trash, and grab a couple bottles of water out of the fridge.
I’m surprised to find her already dressed when I get back to the living room. I hand her the water, and she takes it, gulping half the bottle. “Thanks. And thanks for the lay.”
I laugh at her boldness. “Not a problem.”
“Listen, I’m not looking for anything more than the occasional fuck, so if you ever wanna hook up again, call me.” She hands me a card, and I shove it in my pocket.
“I’ll walk you out.”
She nods, and when we get to her car, I open the door for her. I should at least act like a gentleman.
“Wow. I really am a whore. I don’t even know your name.” She laughs.
My brows furrow. “You’re not a whore. You’re a woman who knows what you want, and you took it. Nothing wrong with that. And I’m Sam.”
“Well, Sam. I’m Lisa. Have a good night.” She shuts her door and pulls away, just as Courtney pulls in her spot.
Crap.
I don’t want to deal with her. I just got done forgetting the way she felt with her tits pressed against my back.
Since I’m walking across the street right past her car, I can’t very well ignore her. I open her door and take a step back when the streetlight reflects a cut on her face. An unwelcomed rage courses through my bones at the marks on her face. There’s no more make-up on, and despite the dried blood, she looks so much better with a clean face.
“Hey,” I say cautiously.
“Hi, Sam.” She steps out and winces when her foot touches the ground, then lifts it up again, grabbing onto the doorframe.
“What happened?”
“Umm, just got into a little scuffle at work.” She gingerly walks forward, and I shut the car door. When the locks beep, she tries to walk to the sidewalk but ends up lifting her left foot and hopping on her right.
“Courtney, let me help you.”
“No. I’m fine. Thanks, though.” She continues hopping, and I stand in the street watching until she reaches the steps. I should walk right past her. Ignore her independent ass. Fuck it.
I jog to her, and without warning, I scoop her up in my arms. I forgot that I’m not wearing a shirt. She realizes it at the same time I do because she immediately retracts her hand.
“Sorry about that,” I say.
“I’m fine, Sam. Really.”
“You’re not. Let me at least get you up the steps.”
I might be an asshole, but I’m not gonna watch as she struggles.
Arriving on our shared porch, I set her down, and she leans on the house for support.
“What do you mean by a scuffle?”
“I work at a bar.”
So that’s what she tells people. “
One of the customers got a little grabby, and I fell to the floor, twisted my ankle, and scraped my cheek. No big deal.” She waves me off, but there’s something in her eyes. Shame, maybe?
Protectiveness rises in my chest, and the unfamiliar feeling pisses me off. I was there. I saw what kind of ‘customers’ she’s talking about.
“What the fuck? Did someone kick his ass?” I would have. No, I wouldn’t have let it get that far in the first place. She’s a nice lady; she doesn’t need that shit.
“Yeah. Well, security escorted him out. It’s fine. Stuff like this happens working in a st- a bar.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine. Thanks for carrying me. I need to go ice it though, so . . .”
“Yeah. Have a good night.”
“Thanks.”
She unlocks the door and hobbles in. Before she can close it, I call for her. “Hey, Courtney?”
She sticks her head through the crack and raises her eyebrows.
I take a deep breath before saying, “Let me know if you need anything.”
“’Kay. Thanks.” Then she shuts the door and I walk into my house.
What in the fuck did I just do?
Acknowledgments
My husband gives me everything I need to write - time, space, and love. Couldn’t do this without you and your support. Love you!
I have the best beta readers. THANK YOU to Nikki Belaire, Crystal Singer, Heather Carver, Nicole Richard, Nancy White, Elizabeth Himsworth, Kelly Lincoln, and Polly Brown. You guys have given me the best advice, and I appreciate you guys beyond words.
My reader group and street team. Your support gets me through the day. Thank you!
Kari from Cover to Cover designs, Jenny from Editing 4 Indies, Bree from Vivid Words Editing, Stacey from Champagne Formats. Once again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your amazing and hard work.
Colleen from Itsy Bitsy Book Bits and Christine from The Hype PR. Thanks so much for helping spread the word about my books.
THANK YOU, thank you, thank you to the bloggers for the countless hours you put in helping to promote and share books that you love.
And of course, my readers. I write stories because I need to get them out of my head, but I share them for you. It humbles me that you love them as much as I do. Thank you.
About the Author
Anna began writing when she thought the world would want to hear her sick lyrics through song. Since then, she’s realized her childhood dream wasn’t so far-fetched, just misguided. Now she writes romance with real emotions and happy endings. If Anna isn’t writing or reading, she can be found by a space heater drinking a ridiculous amount of Diet Dr. Pepper. She also likes to hang out with her husband and two boys. If it weren’t for them, she wouldn’t ever leave the house. Anna was born in Wisconsin but now lives in the Evergreen State.
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