I am who I am. I’m not pretty, I’m not kind, I’m not smart. What I am is focused. And right now, my focus is on the sweet, spread thighs against my back.
And soon, I’ll be taking up permanent residence between those legs. Because all of that, all of her, is mine.
Chapter 3
Annie
How quickly that one-eighty happened. So quickly, I have whiplash. Being close to him like that, I stood firm as long as I could, then crumbled like the Walls of Jericho.
I’ve been pretending for almost two years that Charles “Chewy” Drake is an irritating mosquito I can’t seem to smack away. Every time I’ve seen him around town, riding on his bike, sitting in the park across from the school pretending to talk on his phone like he just happened to pull over outside where I work…every time, a low, sonic boom lodges itself directly on my clit then proceeds to fill my belly with a tension I’ve yet to figure out how to undo.
He’s six foot four and good gravy if my mouth doesn’t water whenever I see him even though every logical part of me knows he’s not my type. He’s hard, rough, not just around the edges, with a crooked sort of face that could only be the result of fists and baseball bats. And the tattoos? That should only seal the evidence that this is guy not from my world. I’m a good girl. The romance world might tell you it’s a match made in fictional heaven, but life is not books and he and I are oil and water, we scientifically cannot mix.
But, dang if seeing him up close and personal, closer than we’ve ever been before, I couldn’t keep my eyes off the clear outline of a foot-long dong that hung down the leg of his worn, grease-streaked Levis. I know he saw me look, I practically eye fucked his junk as I stood there being as difficult as I could, and that’s because I hate two things: being told what to do and admitting I need help.
I’ve got it under control, thank you very much.
But my hubris melted like a snow cone in August when he didn’t take my shit and didn’t take no for an answer.
Now, I’m riding behind him and I feel every rippling muscle under his leather vest. The wind on my face with his bare arms and shoulders covered in the ink that I know did not come from some fancy, uptown tattoo parlor with espresso makers and regular hours gives me an exhilaration I didn’t expect.
I take in the freedom of the speed and openness. In a car, the world sort of goes by without notice, but on the back of the bike, I notice everything. It’s like something inside of me is opening up and besides that, man, it’s just fun.
As we wheel down the highway and end up on the upside of town, Chewy slows, his left hand dropping down and cupping the back of my calf, sending a burst of excitement up my leg and all the way into my chest. He’s everything I never wanted and yet, I still got on the back of his bike instead of calling my father or my friend Alicia from high school to come pick me up.
Calling my father would not be first on my list. He’s done his job as a dad, technically speaking. But, anything sort of outside of what he views as his basic duties always seems to end up in a fight about how I don’t understand what it was like for him to raise me as a single father. How demanding and needy I was.
It’s true, I was demanding and needy, but I was a little kid without a mom and a dad that resented us both for trapping him. I pouted, threw tantrums, broke things, called child protective services on him when he wouldn’t get me a puppy for my twelfth birthday.
I was a pain in the ass for a long time and he never let me forget it.
After a decade of hearing him tell me how I basically ruined his life, I went the other direction and decided I needed no one and nothing. I went away to school, paying my way with odd jobs and student loans because I wouldn’t take his money and he didn’t offer.,
Then, ironically, in my last year of undergrad, he decided he wanted me back here. Said he missed me, he was sorry for how things were between us and wanted to see if we could repair what had been so long broken. I wanted to say no, tell him I had plans for grad school, but he has a way with guilt, and I was broke, so that’s how I ended up back here in Valor, teaching Ethics and History classes at the local high school in the district where he’s superintendent.
Nepotism is alive and well in the heartland of America.
My plan was to go on and get my Master’s in Applied Ethics and possibly go on to see about a law degree. Doing what’s right has always fascinated me and knowing what’s right is not always clear but trying to figure out how it all works for the world and looking at it from a global standpoint was going to be my focus.
Instead, here I am doing what I think is right and coming home when my father suddenly decided he wanted to clear his conscience.
My core tenses as Chewy eases the bike into a spot on the street. People are out in droves tonight. It’s perfect weather, thirsty Thursday, and I realize how hungry I am when the scent of luscious food drapes around me and I breathe it in along with Chewy’s masculine scent topped with a hint of gasoline and coffee.
He kicks down the stand
