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Whipped
  • Текст добавлен: 29 сентября 2016, 05:21

Текст книги "Whipped"


Автор книги: Elizabeth Lee



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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Now seemed like as good of time as any to get back behind the wheel of a car. I hadn’t heard from Georgia anymore that day and it was nearly eight o’clock. I’d waited for her to respond to my text message and when I didn’t I just assumed she got busy with a patient. I couldn’t go another day without seeing her. If she wasn’t going to come to me, I would go to her.

I could feel myself falling for her and for the first time in my life, I wanted to keep falling. I just hoped that I hadn’t scared her off when I was talking about riding. I understood her hesitation and fear, but it was something that we could work through together. Georgia was pretty good at trying to tackle everything herself. Each time I got her to let her guard down a little, I could see a new part of her. She could be funny and silly and not so serious. She could be passionate and sexual and sensual. I knew there were more layers to her and each one I peeled back was better than the last.

Here she was helping me heal, and in a way I felt like I was doing the same for her. We were good for each other, and even if she hadn’t realized it yet…she would. I hoped.

The first place I drove myself to was a little convenience store a few blocks from Georgia’s house. I grabbed a couple Cokes from the cooler and walked up to the counter to pay. I figured between clinicals and studying, she might need a fix. I laughed to myself every time I thought about her justifying having a soda every once and a while as a bad habit. She was pretty fucking adorable when she was being all serious.

“Three-forty-five,” the clerk said after ringing me up.

“I’ve got it,” I heard a voice call out from behind. I turned around to find Beau Gregurich standing behind me opening his wallet.

“I’m good,” I deadpanned, placing a five on the counter. “Keep the change,” I instructed the cashier as I grabbed the bottles. I turned away, glaring at Beau as I did, and made my way toward the door.

“Twenty on number six,” I heard him tell the cashier as I walked out the door. Walking to my truck, I could feel him behind me. My skin crawled knowing he was near me and the twitch in my hand—the one that said “ball into a fist promptly and knock this asshole out”—grew more insistent with every step. “Brett, would you wait up?” he called out.

“No, I will not,” I said over my shoulder. “Trust me, the last thing you want to do is have a conversation with me,” I warned. It was taking all of my self-control to not whack him over the head with a Coke bottle.

“I was just going to tell you to stop by my ProShop if you need anything for your bike while you’re in town,” he said.

Now that stopped me in my tracks.

“Your guilty conscience getting the best of you?” I turned to face him, feeling the crease between my brows deepen. “I’m sure you can see by the fucking brace on my leg that I’m not really riding at the moment.” We all knew that I was never Beau’s intended victim. Reid was the one he was going after, I was just on the wrong bike at the wrong time.

“I’m sorry you got hurt,” he said, stiffening his posture as I stepped toward him. My knee might not have been completely healed, but I sure could use my other leg to kick him in the ass.

“I bet you are,” I said, a chuckle escaping my lips that made me sound as maniacal as I felt. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to throw him down in the parking lot and let my fists do the talking. “I’d be sorry too if I had the entire Throttled Energy crew ready to rip me apart. You messed with the wrong people.”

“I didn’t mess with anybody,” he tried to assure me, but I wasn’t buying it. We all knew what he’d done even if we couldn’t prove it.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Gregurich. You were smart enough to cover your tracks, but we all know where that faulty fuel line came from. We all know that you were pissed at Reid for stealing your girl.”

“You can’t prove a thing,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. His apologetic tone had been replaced with arrogance. “Look man, I just wanted to say I was sorry that you were injured, but I’m not going to stand here and listen to you throw accusations at me. The cops dropped the investigation.”

“Doesn’t mean that we aren’t going to ruin you,” I promised, opening the door to my truck and climbing inside.

“You’re just as bad as Travers,” he said smugly. “You think you two are going to run me out of business? Good luck.”

“Don’t need luck,” I told him. “We’ve got the money and the time and a direct line to all your suppliers. Won’t be long before our place is up and running, and yours is just an empty building on Main Street. You’ll see.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” he scoffed, but I could see the concern on his face. Reid and I had already started to make some calls and it wouldn’t be long before he couldn't so much as get a helmet to sell in his shop. “Have a great night, asshole,” he added as he walked off.

“I will,” I said, loud enough for him to hear me. “And, hey!” I shouted out. “There’s a lock on the trailer now so if you’re going to screw with my bike you might want to bring your bolt cutters.” His head was shaking as he walked away and I had to admit, I was a little riled from our short conversation. I refused to waste my time thinking about him though.

I had more important things to focus on. Like getting a bottle of Coke to a pretty girl before it was used as an assault weapon.

* * *

I knocked on the front door. The Cokes were still cold and I was anxious to see her. When she opened the front door, the surprise at my arrival was evident. Her attire said that she hadn’t remembered her proposition from earlier. Loose sweat pants and an oversized T-shirt. She was literally swimming in comfort. The way she swept her hands nervously over her face, like she was going to somehow magically appear put together was cute. Hell, she was cute in sweat pants and a day’s end worth of makeup.

“I know I’m little early,” I said with a grin. I held up the sodas. “I brought drinks.”

“You didn’t have to come over,” she said. “I’ve had the worst day and I’m going to be terrible company. And I have a test tomorrow that is going to kick my ass,” she said with a sigh. “I can’t seem to get a handle on any of it.”

“Relax,” I said, and placed one hand on her shoulder waiting for her to take a deep breath. The stress written across her face was evident from the crease between her brows to the wrinkle of skin at the bridge of her nose. “Are you going to invite me in?”

She wasn’t getting rid of me that easily.

“Yeah…come in,” she said, a soft laugh breaking a bit of the tension in her face. “I totally forgot about meeting up. You drove here?”

“I did,” I said as I walked into her house. “Dr. Forlani said it would be okay,” I assured her. I knew where Georgia lived, but I’d never actually been inside. We’d stopped by a couple times so she could pick things up, but I’d always waited in the car. The little Craftsman she called home was nice. I sat the drinks down on the coffee table in the front room, between the stacks of paper and open texts books. There was a sofa and a love seat and a plethora of home décor that made the place seem well lived in and homey.

Photographs of her and Nora were framed on the shelves, along with other people who I assumed were her family and friends. In a silver frame on the far side of the shelf there was a picture of Georgia with her arms wrapped around a guy. Both of them smiling and a diamond ring sparkled from her ring finger on her left hand that laid across his chest. Her engagement picture. It was the first time I’d ever seen Jamie. I’d heard a bit about him from the Travers brothers and Georgia, but putting a face with a name…I was starting to understand. They looked happy. They looked in love.

She’d had this whole other life before I met her and I knew that. I guess it was easier to pretend that she didn’t. Now that I could see her with him, it was actually sinking in. She’d been in real, actual love before. Was there even a chance for me? Did I even want there to be something like that between us?

“Can I get you drink?” she asked, pulling my attention from the shelves. I didn’t want to think about her with another man. I wanted to focus on the relationship that we were building. I refused to be discouraged. It was more than a fling even if we hadn’t voiced it out loud yet.

“Already got one,” I said, turning to point out the sodas I’d brought with me.

“Oh yeah. Duh. Did I mention I had a long day?” she said, giggling to hide her anxiety. I wanted to believe that she was only anxious about her day and her test tomorrow, but a small part of me wondered if I wasn’t the cause of it. I wanted to help. I wanted to put her mind at ease, not be the cause of more anxiety.

Her shoes were exactly where she’d kicked them off when she walked in the door and I noticed a bra slung over the arm of the couch. “Getting comfy, I see,” I said, slipping my finger under one strap and lifting it up. The blue lace and satin hung from my fingertips and I couldn’t help but grin.

“Omigod,” she said as her cheeks turned a bright shade of red. She quickly grabbed it from my hand and tossed it down the hallway to what I assume was her bedroom. “How embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” I said, walking over to her and placing my hands on her hips. “One less obstacle,” I grinned before leaning my head down to hers. “Just think of how much easier it’s going to be for me with nothing underneath this t-shirt,” I said, resting my forehead against hers. I trailed one hand down her back. Her eyes fell shut as she practically melted under my touch. The slight wobble in her knees said that she enjoyed my touch as much as I enjoyed touching her. She grabbed on to my arms for support and I relished the feel of the bite of her fingertips against my skin. An excited gasp escaped her lips as I took her mouth with mine. God, she tasted good. Maybe I could kiss away some of her worries. Some of my worries. I could have taken her straight into the bedroom, or at the very least tried for a do-over on the sofa, but it was going to have to wait. Slowly, tenderly, I broke our kiss, much to both of our dismays.

“Hey now,” she said. “You can’t come in, kiss me like that, and then just stop.”

“Actually,” I replied, slipping my hand into hers and pulling her toward the couch. “I can... because we have some studying to do.”

We have some studying to do?” she said, skeptically eying me as she twisted the lid off her Coke.

“Yep,” I said with a nod of my head as I took a seat. She joined me, despite disbelieving that I was actually serious. “You said you had a big test,” I explained, looking over her scattering of papers for notes or some sort of study guide. There had to be something there that I could quiz her on. The terminology on the sheets in front of me looked like a foreign language. Good thing I was a fast learner. I could adapt to different tires, different tracks, different competitors, surely I could manage senior year nursing school. I might have been a gear head, but I wasn’t stupid. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent tutor.”

“I hope so. I need all the help I can get.” Casually, she brought the Coke bottle to her lips and what I witnessed next had me squirming in my seat. The way her lips wrapped around the top of that bottle and the way her neck and throat constricted as she took a drink might have been the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. She moaned quietly as her eyes fell shut. I felt a rush of heat surge through my body.

“You’ll be fine,” I assured her, not able to take my eyes off of her. Her empty hand fell across her chest like she was checking to see just how fast her heart was beating. Mine was quickly picking up itself.

“This is so good,” she said, twisting the cap back on the bottle. “I forget just how good it tastes,” she practically moaned. “So refreshing. So bubbly. I could drink it all night long.” I could feel myself getting hard and I had to keep myself from suggesting something else we could do all night long. I was there to be with her, yes, but I’d promised to help her study.

Flushed cheeks and that sultry look in her eyes were all from drinking a Coke? I couldn’t stop myself from thinking how she’d look after really being satisfied. This study session was going to be torture if I had to watch her drink herself practically to orgasm the rest of the night. “Thank you so much for bringing this,” she said, untwisting the cap once more. Even the way her fingers fit around the bottle was sexy—her grip firm as she moved it to her lips. My imagination was having a hard time not creating her doing the exact thing with my dick.

“We’ve got a lot to cover,” I said after I cleared my throat and tried to get my head back to the right place. “By the time we are finished you will know,” I closed the open book on her coffee table to read the title, “all about Molecular Pathology.” She wouldn’t be the only one learning something new tonight. I had no idea what either of those words even meant. Science had never really been my strong suit. I took the Coke bottle from her hand—nearly having to pry it from her grasp. “No more drinks until we’ve covered at least the first page of the study guide,” I reasoned, more for my own sanity than hers. If I had to watch her foreplay with the Coke bottle any longer I wasn’t going to make it through the first question of the study guide, let alone the full twenty pages of it.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said. I shook my head and reached out my hand so she could give me the stack of note cards she was holding. Questions were written out on the front. I was happy to see the multi-syllabic answers scrawled across the backs.

“I do,” I said, taking the cards from her hands. “You help me, I help you.” I wasn’t expecting her to be so taken by my response, so when she leaned in and wrapped her arms around my neck in an honest-to-God hug of gratitude, I found myself a little choked up. These were the moments I wanted with her. I wanted more of them. I wanted all of them. I wanted to be with her and not in some casual, fleeting way.

I hoped that she was feeling the same. I’d said I wanted to see all the sides of her and she was finally letting me see them. Maybe she was opening the door for more between us. The overworked, understudied, nervous trainwreck of a girl was letting me help her. If we didn’t have hours of molecules and genetics ahead of us I would have just held her in my arms all night—after giving her multiple orgasms if she’d let me. The hesitation in her eyes as she leaned away from me had me wanting to toss the note cards on the floor and kiss her again. It would have to wait. I knew how important her studies were to her. I knew when it was time to focus. “Besides, I need something other than my pitiful ass to concentrate on,” I added, needing something to distract me from tasting her.

“Are you wallowing?”

“Maybe a little.” I admitted. My PT hadn’t really been stellar that day. “I just feel like I should be further along. I was hoping to be able to do more.”

“It’s been six weeks. I’d say you’re doing pretty good,” she said. “I’ve seen people in way worse shape than you six weeks after surgery.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She smiled. “You’re Brett Sallinger,” she reminded me with a laugh. “You’ll be just fine.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. It was nice to hear that she believed in me. I was bound to have moments of self-doubt. As I looked at her giving me a pep talk, I felt stupid. Here I was, acting like a big damn baby when this girl had been through the wringer. I could learn a lot from her about resilience. “Is it hard being so damn perfect all the time?” I teased. Kind of. I’d yet to find something I didn’t love about her.

W ho was this guy?

If anyone would have told me three months ago that Brett Sallinger would be quizzing me on genetic research and therapy I would have said they were out of their mind. That guy was all dirt and no handed motocross tricks, but this guy…this guy sitting in front me trying his damnedest to pronounce words that some brain surgeons couldn’t even pronounce, now he was something special. And not too bad to look at either. The sexy way he grinned when I answered a question correctly had me straining my brain. Between cards and questions, he didn’t miss an opportunity to tell me how great I was doing or reach over and pat me on the leg. The sexy thoughts I had running through my head were about as far from genetics as you could get. The only genetic makeup I was grateful for at that moment was his.

We spent two hours going over every single thing in my notes and I finally felt like I had a good handle on the material for the test. I had to admit, having him as study buddy had helped. We’d finished off the Cokes he’d brought over and I was thankful for the caffeine. After helping me cram¸ I wanted to at least have the energy to hang out with him for a while. We had some unfinished business to address. Namely, that kiss he’d laid on me when he first arrived that I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.

“That’s the last one,” he said, placing the stack of note cards on the table. “I think you’ve got it,” he offered up a reassuring smile and let out a sigh.

“I can’t tell you how helpful that was,” I said. “Nora used to help me before Reid stole her away,” I said jokingly.

“He’s like that,” he said, playfully shaking his head. “Only thinking about himself.”

His words rang a little too close to what Nora had said earlier. It’s okay to be selfish. I hoped she was right, because right now I wasn’t thinking about work or school or my Sunday dinner with the Shaws. Right then I was just thinking about how lucky I was to be sitting there with Brett.

“Now that that’s out of the way, how was your day?” I asked, needing a break from me for a while.

“Nothing new to report,” he answered. “Did some PT at home. Went out to the trailer and sat on my bike for old time sake. Texted a pretty girl. Same old, same old.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Oh, and I ran into Beau Gregurich at the Fast Stop. Told him he could go straight to hell.”

“I’m sure he’d feel right at home there,” I said, not trying to mince words. I did not like that guy and he knew it. Beau had been a bully in high school and I was shocked when my sister had told me she was dating him. There was nothing about him that was appealing. The fact that he’d managed to fool Nora for two years was beyond me. I was grateful that Reid had shown back up in Halstead and rekindled things with my sister. I didn’t want to see her waste her life with Beau. I missed her but I knew that with Reid she was respected and loved.

“He’s a piece of work, that’s for sure.” He rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe that he would even talk to me.” He sighed, the same sigh that all of us let out when we thought about him getting away with tampering with Reid’s bike. “I really wish there was some way to prove that he was the one who did it, you know?”

“Oh, believe me. I know. I’ve racked my brain trying to think of some way to make it happen.” No fingerprints. No witnesses. No nothing.

“It’s just a matter of time,” Brett said. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince me or himself. “He’ll get his.”

“Enough about him,” I said, taking my fingertips across the top of Brett’s arm which was laid out across the back of the couch. I traced along some of the black ink that laced his skin. Never in my life had I thought I’d be attracted to a guy with tattoos, but I was becoming quite a fan. Each one was a story that I couldn’t wait to hear about. The tire track and gears were self-explanatory, but there were other ones hidden in the design.

“What’s this one represent?” I asked, stopping on a simple star. I felt his muscles tense under my touch. Goosebumps splayed across his skin. I was glad I wasn’t the only one. Each time he touched me I wondered if he felt the same. Now I knew.

“Home,” he said. “The Lone Star State.” That made sense.

“And this one? Is it an acorn?”

“Yep, because I’m a little squirrelly.”

“Fitting.” I grinned at his ability to not take himself too seriously. I turned his arm over to read the line of text running down the center of his forearm.

When we let go, we are free.

“It’s true,” he murmured.

“I hope so.” There were so many scenarios in my life where I imagined those words were true. It was actually the letting go part that I was having a hard time with. I would keep trying though. I’d start with being more free with him.

“So what do you want to do now?” I offered up my most seductive smile. I wasn’t even sure if I was doing it right. I was definitely out of practice when it came to seducing a guy. I remembered what my sister said about it being okay to be selfish. Selfishly, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to touch him.

“For starters…” he said, leaning toward me. His fingers threaded in my hair as he pulled my face the rest of the way to his. His lips were on mine possessively. He kissed me until we were forced to break for a breath.

“It’s like you read my mind,” I said with a smile.

“I’ve been waiting to do that since I saw you take that first drink of Coke,” he confessed. “When you said you loved it, I had no idea how much you meant it,” he laughed. “Watching you drink that ranks near the top on the list of sexy things you do.”

“If I would have known you’d like it that much, I wouldn’t have waited so long to drink one in front of you.” I slid onto his lap, splaying my hands across his chest. Before our mouths met again, he hesitated.

“You sure you want to start something this late at night?” he asked. “It’s almost midnight.”

“I thought booty calls usually happened after midnight?” I teased. I saw his eyes glance at the coffee table and I knew what he was thinking. I took his hand in mine and stood up. “Come on.” I pulled him to his feet and led him toward my bedroom, swallowing back the nervous lump that had formed in my throat.

“I just don’t want you to do something you’re not ready for,” he said, hesitantly following me.

“I am,” I said. I think I am. “Really only one way to find out.” He didn’t say another word as we walked down the short hallway and through the door of my bedroom. The firm grip of his hand was reassuring and I knew that he would never push me to do something I wasn’t ready for. I walked over to the edge of my bed and sat down. I tried to ignore the nervousness I felt in my stomach. I was ready for this. I was ready for something new.

Thankfully, I’d at least had the foresight to make my bed and pick up the dirty clothes off the floor that morning.

He stood in front of me for a moment. Probably to make sure that I was really thinking through what the two of us in a bedroom together meant. I knew exactly what it meant. I reached for him. Pushing the black t-shirt he was wearing up enough to grab the waistband of his jeans and pull him toward me. I’d be lying if my curiosity about what the surgical nurses saw hadn’t got the best of me. Judging by the bulge I could see straining against the denim, Miss Hair Toss hadn’t been far off in her assumption.

He stepped over and stood between my legs. My breathing hitched momentarily. I could have easily pulled him on top of me, but I took a moment to let my eyes roam over his body. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. I ran my tongue over my dry lips and I started to unfasten his belt. He was just as incredible up close as he’d been all those times I’d sneaked a peek at him when he wasn’t looking. I wanted to run my tongue over his stomach and feel each ripple of his muscles. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his skin. A moan rumbled in his chest and I could feel him tense under my kiss.

“You have no idea how sexy you look right now,” he said, letting one of his hands tangle in the hair at the back of my neck and directed me to look up at him.

“I’m sure,” I said, biting back a laugh. I was about as far from sexy as they came. My hair was a mess, my clothes were way too big and I was exhausted, despite the sudden burst of energy he gave me.

“I’m serious,” he said, leaning down and peering so deeply into my eyes that I believed every word he was saying. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” If his words didn’t take the air out of my lungs, the kiss that followed surely did. He slowly placed his lips on mine and then traced his tongue over their seam. When I opened my mouth, he swept it through in a way that had my insides flipping end over end.

As he lowered me back onto the mattress, he continued to kiss me so deeply that I had no choice but to surrender to what I was feeling. I arched my back as he slipped an arm underneath me and prayed that he wasn’t too good to be true. My entire body was shaking but in a good way.

I ran my hands down his back needing to feel every inch of him, wanting to be as close to him as possible. His lips trailed down my neck as his hand snagged the edge of my shirt and slowly started to pull it up. Each inch of my body that he uncovered, he slowly lowered his mouth over and the heat coming off of his lips had my skin tightening beneath it.

I lifted my arms above my head and let him pull the shirt off of me. I was completely exposed to him and I felt completely secure. It wasn’t until I saw where his eyes were lingering that I realized my past was once again interfering with my future.

Between my breasts, the long chain of my necklace was anchored in place by my engagement ring from Jamie. My forgetfulness and longing to hold onto some piece of my past life had rendered Brett frozen in what had been our hottest moment together.

“I’m sorry,” I said, grabbing the necklace and pulling it over my head. Brett stood up as I rolled over and reached out to place the necklace in my nightstand drawer. “I forgot I was wearing it.”

“It’s okay,” he said, clearly taken back by the fact that I still kept the ring with me. “It just caught me off guard.” I could tell by his disposition—albeit understanding—that our night was not going to continue with the same passion as it had only moments ago.

I didn’t know what to say that could possibly make the situation any less awkward. So I blurted out the first thing I thought. “It’s getting late anyway. We probably shouldn’t—”

“Yeah,” he said. “Probably not.”

I grabbed my shirt from behind me and pulled it over my head. I felt like a fool. I should have been more prepared for the possibility of us being intimate. I let myself get caught up in the moment and didn’t think things through. When he picked up his shirt off the ground, I wanted to make it up to him. I wanted him to see that despite what he just saw, I was ready to move on. I was ready to move on with him.

“Will you stay?” I asked, scooting to the edge of bed and standing up. I reached out and took his hand. “Will you at least spend the night with me?”

He looked down at me, and I could see that he was trying to process the situation. He took in a breath and nodded his head.

“Of course.” He tossed his shirt back to the ground and pulled my hand up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss across my knuckles. Luck and timing were definitely not in our favor that night, but as we climbed under the sheets and he pulled my body against his and held me in his arms, I knew that there was at least hope that we could manage to get it right.

There was hope for us. There was hope for me.


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