It was only ten minutes before opening. Ella had gone, and Scooter was sitting in my waiting area, reading a Maxim magazine. I’d already made him remove his boots from my coffee table, but he was still sort of sprawled.

My mother was at the locked door of the shop. Lips pursed. Eyes narrowed. Flanked by Bronto and his grandmother.

Bronto looked like he’d prefer to be anywhere but here. His grandmother was smiling and waving at me through the glass.

I unlocked the door and knew my face was betraying my emotions. My mother scowled at me as she pushed past me, her shoulder knocking mine and physically causing me to stumble. Bronto looked alarmed and glanced at Scooter.

His Gran, written in my book as “Theodore’s grandmother. N. C”. N: new. C: coupon, was smiling at me, having missed it.

Pippa wasn’t in yet. She didn’t have her first appointment for an hour and a half. Plus, she’d told me the night before that she was taking her time for at least a week in the mornings, since she’d opened and closed every day while I was gone.

I gave my mother, dressed in a bone-colored power suit, tan blouse, and sensible bone-colored heels, a tight smile and said, “Good morning. Can you give me a minute?”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked over her shoulder at Bronto, dressed in status quo Dominion Brotherhood attire, and then her eyes bounced to Scooter, who was sitting in one of my barrel leather waiting-area chairs, dressed almost the same. Jeans. Leather vest. T-shirt. Looking very much like he’d slept in his clothes, which he did.

“Good morning, Theodore’s gran. Great to see you.” I craned my neck to see around Mom and gave Bronto’s gran a smile.

Bronto’s gran moved in and put her arms around me. She was a short, stout woman with chubby cheeks and big silver curls.  She had on an unbecoming shade of bright red lipstick and blushed cheeks that looked like they’d been made that way with the same lipstick. But, lipstick shade didn’t matter. She was awesome.

When she let me go, she reached into the Ikea tote bag hanging from the crook of her arm and produced a circa 1972 olive green metal cookie tin. “More snickerdoodles. This is your tip. You return this tin, I’ll refill it.”

“Oh wow. Thank you,” I hugged the tin to my chest like the cookies were a precious gift, which they were, and put the tin down on the reception desk.

“I have my coupon.” She presented it to me with a beaming smile.

“Awesome. You’re first today, so let’s get you comfortable and then we’ll try our hardest to make you even more gorgeous.” My heart seized at the G-word that’d just come out of my mouth. Ugh. Time to ban it from the Jenna-cabulary.

“Take my coat, Theodore,” she directed Bronto.

“Wash and set, Theodore’s gran?” I inquired.

She nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Okay, you’re a teensy bit early, so how about you sit in that chair or on that sofa there (I had nice matching black leather furniture in my waiting area) and give me two shakes to get you a cup of tea and have a fast chat with my mother, here, and then I’ll---"

“Oh, this is your Momma? Hello!” She reached for my mother’s hand. My mother was a banking industry suit and she put on her fake smile and shook Bronto’s gran’s hand.

“Hello. Karen Murdoch, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Theodore’s grandma. Your girl is just an absolute doll!” It was as if Mom had a clue who Theodore was.

“Thank you. We’re pretty proud of her,” my Mom said with a closed mouth exaggerated smile, and I almost barfed. She was so full of it.

I helped Bronto’s grandmother to a chair and she chided Scooter. “Scott. Sit up straight, now.” He straightened immediately, despite the fact that he was mid-texting or something like that on his phone.

My mother followed me into the utility room. I shut the door and immediately launched into my defense. “I only got back last night, and I have a full book this morning, Mom. So, if you’re here to rip me a new one…”

I’d immediately started busying myself with tea-making and didn’t make eye contact. She didn’t respond. So, I made eye contact.

Mistake.

Her fake smile mask had already slipped. “Dinner at home tonight. 6:30,” she hissed.

I rolled my eyes.  “Why don’t you just tell me now if you’re gonna fuck my life up.”

She gasped. “Don’t you speak to me that way, young lady!”

“Mom.” I was exasperated. “I’ve had a very, very bad few days. Please. Please, don’t do this to me right now. I have to get my head together.” I put my hands in my hair. My chin quivered. I took a breath.

No crying. NO crying. For someone who hadn’t shed tears in years, I was sure making up for it these days.

She watched me with narrowed eyes.

I heard the bells of the shop jingle. I pulled myself together, so I could go out and see who was out there, but the door opened almost hitting my mother and Rider was in the utility room with us, looking tweaked.

I jolted.

He looked at me from head to toe and back to head. This wasn’t an ogle. This was an assessment of my well-being. And he didn’t look like his usual self. He had a baseball cap on backwards and was wearing mechanics overalls with a pair of dirty sneakers. I was a little bit thrown. He smelled like motor oil.

His eyes searched mine for a split second. My lips parted in question, but before I could ask anything, he turned to my Mom.

“Mrs. Murdoch? Rider Valentine.” He extended his hand.

She looked up at him with surprise.

“Nice to meet you,” he said.

She gave him a once over and looked at him much the way Rider’s mother had looked at me. Judgingly. Finding me lacking. I didn’t like the way she looked at Rider. At all. And that wasn’t smart, because I couldn’t show it to him.

“I see you’ve got two of your apes watching her. I suppose that’s good,” she muttered, giving him a limp handshake and then folding her arms across her chest.

“The threat isn’t neutralized, like I told your husband this morning, but it’s significantly safer than it was a week ago. I have a man following Jenna at all times. We’re regularly patrolling this street and I’m with her at night.”

“Of course you are.” she rolled her eyes.

“Now, she’s got a full day, so we should continue this conversation at dinner.”

Mom gawked at him.

I gawked at him.

“Dinner?” I asked.

“I spoke to your dad on the phone this morning, gorgeous. He invited us to dinner.”

I glared at him, lips tight, but didn’t say a word.

Mom was giving me the same glare. “Your father didn’t tell me of this.”

“It’s news to me, too,” I said, showing my palms in defense.

“See you at six thirty then, don’t be late,” Mom said and turned on her heel and left.

I was getting a headache.

Where to even begin with this?

Rider’s eyes were on me. “You okay?”

I glared at him. “You’re not coming to my parents for dinner.”

“Yeah, I am. Your father invited me.”

“No,” I insisted. “You’re not going.”

“I am.”

“Then I won’t,” I said.

He laughed a little, but not with his usual humor.

I fetched my phone from my pocket and dialed my dad’s number.

He barely got his Hello out when I spoke fast. Way fast. Too fast.

I sounded like an auctioneer or something.

“Dad? I’m not coming for dinner tonight. Rider and I broke up and it’s over and I’m home and his MC are watching out for me while things are still a bit off, but you don’t need to have him for dinner. I’m not coming either. I need a few days to sort my head out and Mom’s being… Mom. I can’t deal with that today. I really, really can’t.”

“Uh…” Dad said into the phone.

Rider grabbed my phone out of my hand.

“Hey!” I protested.

“Paul? Let’s reschedule dinner. I showed at Jenna’s salon because your wife was here, pretending you didn’t tell her not to come. She and Jenna were about to get into it, but Jenna needs time. How about I call you tomorrow?”

“Give me that phone.” I tried to get it. He didn’t give it up. He held a hand out, which landed on my chest, and he kept me back.

“Right. Nope, we’re good. She’s just in a mood.” He held the phone a second and then chuckled. My father said something that made him chuckle? What the eff?

“Yep. Okay. Bye.” He ended the call and passed the phone back to me.

“I can’t believe you!” I breathed, sort of. I was almost out of breath.

“I told Scoot to let me know if she showed. I rushed over to make sure she didn’t hassle you. I already told your father we were back, and he wanted us to come to dinner to talk it all out instead of her causing a scene at the salon. He’s gonna be pissed she showed up here after he specifically told her not to.”

“He… huh? You… what? What the…?”

He folded his arms across his chest. I gave my head a shake.

“Just go,” I said.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Bronto’s grandma is waiting for me. Her tea’s getting cold.” I reached for the cup sitting on the counter beside him.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him before I got to the cup. His mouth was a half an inch from mine.

“I get brownie points for gettin’ rid of your ma?”

I shook my head and looked the other way and lied. “No.”

“No?” He sounded playful. Like this was just another game. And it wasn’t.

“Let go.”

“Don’t wanna. I wanna kiss. That’s your price for me gettin’ rid of her.”

“Safeword,” I whispered.

He let go of me and shook his head with a disgusted look on his face.

“You’re a piece of work.”

“You’re a piece of something,” I accused.

His angry expression melted and then he laughed. Laughed! He pinned me against the closed door with his hips.

That wasn’t the reaction I was going for.

I pushed against his chest.

He moved in and kissed me. I grunted, while trying to shove.

He tried to part my lips with his tongue. I shoved hard. He went back against the counter and I grabbed for the door knob so that I could escape. I’d get that tea in minute. After he was gone.

There was a knock, just as I was about to open the door.

“Jen? Sorry, I need something outta there.” That was Pippa. She was early.

Rider’s hand appeared beside my face. He was holding his palm against the door.

“Let go,” I demanded.

“You try slammin’ any door in my face again, I’ll wedge my boot in, Jenna, before you can do it. I’m not letting you go. We both know you really don’t want me to. You’re just scared.”

“Whatever,” I said, but my voice broke in the middle.

He let go of the door and I stormed out.

I wasn’t going to let myself dwell, all day, on how he just saved my ass from my mother’s wrath. I wasn’t going to dwell on how fast he got here.

I wasn’t going to dwell on how it felt that he was still saying he wasn’t giving up on me.

I wasn’t!

(But, of course I did. I dwelled on it all day long.)

***

It was 7:30 before I got out of the salon. Scooter looked supremely bored. He’d perked up when Deanna came in to say Hi and refresh my waiting area supply of brochures for her wax warmers an hour earlier. Her boys climbed all over him like he was some monkey bars while she, Pip, and I had a quick chat. It did not escape my notice (or Dee’s) that he seemed to have all the patience in the world for her two little rambunctious monster-tots.

That was a bit of an interesting show, too, because I could’ve sworn Dee was giving him a shy flirty smile when she left. And he looked interested. Of course he’d look twice. She’s a knockout.

But, Deanna had been through the ringer with men. The absolute last thing she needed was another asshole in her life. That was the last thing her boys needed, too, and I didn’t know much about Scott, but I knew he’d participated in that gang bang. I’d seen his thing, for eff sakes, as he shoved it into that girl’s mouth.

I could see why Dee smiled like that. He was kind of cute. Scooter was average height, a bit lanky, blond hair, a bit scruffy, but seemed sweet and had a nice smile. He looked like a combo of biker and all-American guy next door. She could do worse looks-wise, but I had the strong urge to warn her. Because it was about more than the way a guy looked. And she was beautiful, funny, sweet, and caring, and she didn’t deserve to get her heart stomped on again.

I think Scott read my mind, because a minute after she left, I must’ve looked deep in thought with my eyes on him and not liking those thoughts. He was looking at me with a weird resigned expression, his shoulders slumped.

I glared at him and turned my back on him. I hoped that’d be taken as a warning not to fuck around with my friend’s heart. If he did, I’d fuck him up.

The day had been busy, and I’d had a few quiet minutes here and there in the utility room with Pip throughout the day where I gave her bits and pieces of the story of the past week in hushed whispers. She was wide-eyed through all the details. I swore her to secrecy. She’d gotten a bit of the story from Rider and from Ella, but I filled in some gaps and when I told her Rider and me were done, but that he was being a stubborn a-hole about it, so I just had to wait for him to get bored of trying, she got alarmed.

“You need to give this a shot, Jen. A real shot. Ride out the storm and see what happens after.”

“Nope,” I’d said. “Can’t.”

“You mean won’t.”

“Fine. Won’t.”

She’d given me an assessing look and hadn’t said anything further.  She looked like she was plotting something. I didn’t like Pippa’s schemes. The only person better at a scheme was me. Usually. Before I got cock-bombed by Rider Valentine.

Yep, that’s how it was. If Ella got put in a cock-fog, then I got hit with a cock-bomb. I pitied the poor girl who next landed in a Valentine’s sights.

When I closed up, Scooter headed to the parking lot instead of up the back stairs with me and Pippa.

I looked at him quizzically.

“Ride’s up there,” he informed. “What time you want me here in the morning? 9:30?”

“Whatever,” I grumbled and climbed the stairs. Before we got to the back door, I looked over my shoulder at Pippa.

“He’s not out here.”

“He’s inside,” she said.

“How’d he get inside?” I asked, checking the door, which was locked.

She winced.

“Pip…” I groaned.

“I gave Scott a key this morning and he gave them to that delicious biker hottie with the dark hair and dark eyes. He made some copies,” she said. “What’s his name?”

“Jesse?”

“Hm,” she made a noise.

“Why are you looking at Jesse? You’re moving in with Joe soon!”

She looked remorseful and shrugged. I didn’t know if she was remorseful about the key or about looking at Jesse like potential man meat.

“Everything okay with you and Joe?”

She made a so-so motion with her hand.

“What’s going on?”

She wrinkled her nose up. “Later. Ears in there.”

I unlocked the door and decided to end this for once and for all.

***

Six Hours Later

It was pitch dark, but, as I knew that room like I knew my own, I climbed the stairs and approached the bed.

Immediately, a head popped up and he was reaching toward the nightstand.

“It’s me,” I said quickly.

That was Deacon’s head.

“Jenna?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

I rounded the bed and climbed into Ella’s side.

“Hey?” She lifted her head from the pillow.

I started bawling.

She put her arms around me.

“Oh no… what happened?”

I was too upset to put my filter in place. Or worry about crying in front of a guy. Because this was Ella’s guy, not mine.

I didn’t have a guy. I had a problem.

“Why do I keep falling on his dick when he’s such a fucking dick, Ella? Whyyyyy?” I whined.

“Fuck…” I heard Deacon’s masculine voice grumble.

“Oh sweetie! What happened?” Ella asked, stroking my hair.

“I’ll give you two a minute,” Deacon said, getting up and looked like he was getting into a pair of jeans. It was dark enough that I only saw his outline.

“A minute?” I asked, “Maybe you better go find yourself a sofa, big guy. If you think I’m not sleeping here because you’re in her bed now, you gotta learn… we’ve been besties since we were five and six.  If you break her heart, she’s climbing in with me. Your asshole brother breaks mine, you’re taking the sofa.”

It was dark, so I couldn’t see his face, but he leaned over, grabbed a pillow, kissed Ella’s forehead, and then leaned over a bit more and dropped a kiss on mine, too.

Oh God.

I stared, dumbfounded, as he vacated the premises.

“He’s awesome,” I told Ella, through tears.

“Yeah,” she agreed, sounding all dreamy-eyed.

***

“What happened?” she asked. And I told her about the day I’d had as well as what’d happened with Rider that night.

“How does that lyric go? If I’m under him I ain’t getting over him.”

“Wow, Jenna. Sorry, but I bet that was hot.”

“Ella…” I groaned.

“Sorry. It sounded smokin’. You really wanna get over him? I think you should go home and get back under him.”

“Screw that. Life in Cockfog Land is messed up. I’d rather be in the driver’s seat, thank you very much.”

“Really? Really?”

“I…”

“Think about it,” she challenged.

“No,” I whispered, being honest with the only person in the world I felt like I could be 100% honest with. Well, 99% honest. I still couldn’t ever tell her I made out with her cousin just after high school grad.

“Okay?”

“But, I’m so…what if he hurts me? I don’t like what he’s turned me into. I’m pathetic.”

Ella shuffled and got more comfortable. “My dad gave me a pep talk not long ago and reminded me of some wisdom. Go out on a limb. That’s where the fruit is.”

“Hm,” I said skeptically.  And then she yawned.

“Go to sleep,” I told her. “Sorry to barge in on you and your beautiful biker. I have to get used to not being able to do this.”

“He doesn’t seem like he minded,” she said.

“Thank you for being my bestie.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, through another yawn, which also made me yawn.

“I think you got a good one,” I told her.

“I know I did,” she said with conviction. “And I think you did, too, Jenna. You’re just fighting him because you’re afraid. I talked to Pippa tonight and we both agree. You---”

“Ella, don’t.”

She stopped immediately.

I didn’t love that my two closest friends were discussing my love life and what they thought I should do. Then again, me and Ella discussed Pip. Me and Pip discussed Ella. It’s just how it went.

But, I did love that as soon as I gave her the ‘don’t’, she stopped.

She fixed the blankets over us.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“Okay.”

I loved Ella.

“I’m not laying in any wet spots, am I?” I asked.

She cackled. “Not tonight. We did it in the shower before bed. I put these sheets on this morning.”

“Good,” I muttered.

“But, fair warning. Show up like this again, not only might you wind up in the wet spot, but Deacon might shoot you. He almost got his gun.”

“Yikes. And enough said. No more sleepovers.”

“No way. I love our sleepovers,” she said.

“I do, too. It’s been too long.”

“Now that we’ve got beautiful but badass gun-toting bikers in our beds, we just can’t have impromptu sleepovers without putting ourselves in jeopardy of guns and wet spots. Let’s do one at your place. In like… a week?”

“Done,” I said, and then I wondered what my life would look like in a week.

“’Night.”

“Night bestie. Love you like crazy.”

“Love you, too,” she said.

***

I replayed the events of that night in my head about three times before I finally fell asleep.

I’d gone into my apartment after unlocking the door and found him asleep on my bed. Crashed. On top of my peachy-pink comforter, but on it like he owned it. Like he had every right to be there. He was in jeans, boots on the floor, wearing that grey and blue flannel shirt I’d flung at him the night before, a different white t-shirt underneath, and a pair of grey jeans.

I dropped my bag on the floor and glared at him.

He kept on sleeping.

“Rider,” I said.

He didn’t move.

“Rider!” I tried again, louder.

He smiled a little. Was that in his sleep or was he playing a game?

I stood there. His breathing was even, as if he was really sleeping.

I said his name again. Twice more. No movement.

So, I went over there and went to nudge his shoulder, and that was when he grabbed me and then I was flipped, put on my back on my own bed, and he was lying directly on top of me, smiling.

“I made the bed for ya,” he informed me as his lips came down on mine. “You musta forgot this mornin’.”

I turned my head away. “Off me.”

He chuckled.

“Get off,” I ordered.

“Oh yeah, baby. Let’s get off.” He grinded against me and he was hard.

I smacked him across the face and he jolted. I’d hit him pretty hard.

“Get out of here,” I hollered.

“That’s it!” he declared and then flipped me, and I was over his lap and he was yanking my dress pants downwards. They didn’t go far, the waistband didn’t allow for it, so he got his hand underneath and ripped the fly open and then yanked them. I heard the fabric protest as he yanked.

“Hey!”

I did not think so.

He slapped my ass.

Ow. Fucking ow!

And then he hauled my panties down and smacked it again, this time on my bare ass!

“Rider Valentine!” I screeched.

“You gotta learn to stop slappin’ me. Next time, I don’t just spank this sexy, sexy ass. Next time, I tie you down and make you edge until you’re pleading for mercy.”

I kicked and writhed, fighting as hard as I could, but he had a firm hold of me.

He ran his palm up and down my bare butt and then his finger slipped down in between my ass cheeks and he got a finger part way inside me.

“No!” I hollered, “Don’t you dare.” I struggled like my life depended on it, and got away from him.

I was on my feet, yanking my pants up.

He leaned back on his elbows and smirked at me.

I shook my head.

My ass was feeling like it was on fire.

“What do you want for dinner?” he asked, casually.

“Huh?”

“Dinner.”

I looked at him like he was insane. Because, he was insane!

I stood there, rubbing my fanny, and staring at him in disbelief. He wandered out of the room. I kept standing there, dumbstruck.

Pippa poked her head in. “Goin’ to Joe’s. Spending the night. See you in the morning.”

“Don’t leave me!” I hissed.

She looked at me with confusion.

“He... don’t leave me with him!”

She rolled her eyes. “C’mon. Don’t be silly.”

“No, Pip. Seriously. He just gave me a spanking. A spanking!”

“She slapped me in the face!” Rider called out, defending himself.

Damn it.

Pippa smirked. “I’m goin’. And for the record, I’m Team Rider.”

My mouth dropped. Horrified.

“I talked to him at least four times while you guys were gone. And I listened to your side today, and I’m sorry, but… Team Rider. Let that wall down, Jenna. If you don’t, some other girl will. And then how will you feel?”

I gasped. I was speechless.

She snickered and hooked her overnight bag over her shoulder, and then she left.

Turncoat.

“How ‘bout pasta and chicken?” Rider called in. “You got that stuff here. Don’t think we even need to hit a store.”

“I don’t cook,” I shouted. Pippa cooked. I didn’t.

“I do,” he informed. “Groceries. Cute animals. The whole shebang. Or did you forget?”

I didn’t answer him. I went into my bathroom, locked the door, and took a long soak in bubbles with a sparkly pink bath bomb.

I stayed in there until I was way too pruny, and then when I came out, I locked my bedroom door and got into bed. I was in the most un-sexy pajamas I owned. They were flannel man-style pajamas in pink and grey checkerboard. I had fluffy pink slipper-socks on, and my hair up in a sloppy bun. I got my bag from the floor and grabbed my phone and curled up in bed, scrolling through Instagram.

My stomach was growling. I could smell the food and it smelled good. I smelled what smelled like garlic bread. And I couldn’t resist it any longer.

Finally, I stomped out.

If he was going to cook food in my kitchen, I guess I’d eat it. I hadn’t eaten all day.  Jesse dropped off submarine sandwiches, bringing me an eggplant parm one at Rider’s behest, and I never ate it. It was still in the fridge in the utility room of the shop.

“I was just about to come get you,” he said. I looked around. It was ready. Even though the kitchen was kind of trashed from the mess he’d made, he’d even set the table with candles and everything.

I folded my arms across my chest.

“Why are you bothering?” I asked.

“Because, I’m taking care of my girl. Scoot said you didn’t eat all day. Pippa said you were a wreck. So did Ella. I’d’ve run you that bubble bath if you hadn’t run it yourself. Now, I’m gonna feed you and then…” he looked off into space and then waved the wooden spoon in his hand around in the air, “Give ya three or four orgasms.” He shrugged, “Yeah. That should do it.”

I could not believe him.

He put the spoon down and grabbed two plates from the counter. They were filled with Fettucine Alfredo, broccoli florets, and topped with bacon and parmesan. There were strips of grilled chicken in there, too.  He poured me a glass of red wine and grabbed himself a bottle of beer, and then he sat down. There were bread sticks there in a basket. Where he heck did those come from?

“Are these from Olive Garden?” I asked, lifting a bread stick.

“Yeah. Got Pudge to grab them for us. He dropped them off five minutes ago. I cooked the rest. But these are the shit, so I asked him to grab ‘em.”

I effing loved Olive Garden bread sticks.

“Did Ella tell you how much I love these bread sticks?”

Was Ella scheming with Pippa?

He shook his head innocently, “I got them ‘cuz I like them, and I knew Pudge was on his way back and would pass it on his way home.”

I sat down.  I had no idea who Pudge was, but I didn’t care. I was famished.

I started to eat and felt like there was a lump in my throat. I had to stop myself from having a repeat of the night he made me eat Bambi. I couldn’t burst into tears every time he cooked food for me.

Wait. This had to be the last time he cooked food for me. I had to make this stop.

I ate two bread sticks and half the plate of pasta (and it was really, really good) and I could not take it anymore. No crying. I had to stop myself from crying. So instead, I suddenly got very, very angry.

I downed my glass of wine and jumped to my feet.

“This is bullshit!” I snapped.

His fork was half way to his mouth and he was frozen, staring at me, looking thrown off.

“You have to go.”

“No,” he said and shoved that forkful of food in his mouth.

“No?” I challenged.

He took his time chewing, while I waited for him to answer. Finally, he swallowed and got up. “More wine?” he moved toward my fridge.

I moved toward him and I shoved him from behind.
 

“You have to go.”

He spun around, and his brows went up.

“You want me to get pushy, too?” he challenged.

I shoved him again. “This needs to st-op.”

Damn voice breaking in the middle like that.

“Jenna.” His voice went sweet.

“No!” I pointed at him.

“Don’t you point at me, Jenna Murdoch!” he said, teasingly, mockingly, and exaggeratedly went to slap my finger in a girlie slap way. I hauled off and meant to punch him in the arm, but he caught my fist before it hit the target.

Yeah, yeah… I know it’s not cool to be violent. To have a double standard. But, this guy was driving me to violence! He wouldn’t leave. He was acting like we were still together. And if he kept his shit up, I’d have to cave, and caving would inevitably lead to heartache. More heartache. My heart already hurt too fucking much.

He twisted me around so that I was facing the wall. My eyes closed out of frustration.

“You mad at me? Good. I want emotion from you. I want it all. Give it to me. Let’s fight this out. Let’s do what we need to do to get back on track. If I have to force a reaction out of you, so be it, but we’re gonna be getting back on track, Jenna.” He kissed my collar bone.

I spun around. He let me. We were facing one another.

“Go.”

“Go ahead and hit me then. Get your frustrations out. I know this has been frustrating. I know you’re pissed at me. But I’m not giving up here. A relationship is supposed to have ups and downs. Both people in it need to work at it sometimes. I’m willing to do the work. You gotta be, too. Let’s fight it out. Then we’ll make up.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

I huffed. “Fighting is not foreplay, Rider Valentine!”

“Think you’re wrong there, gorgeous. Works out fuckin’ great. Cause one minute, you’re yellin’ at me. The next minute, my hand is in your panties and your tongue is in my mouth… what’s not healthy about that?”

And then… and then I don’t know what came over me. The idea of his hand in my panties and my tongue in his mouth? I threw myself at him.

And he caught me, both hands on my ass. I wrapped my legs around his waist and attacked his mouth with mine. He walked us to the bedroom and we went crashing down onto my bed, then he rolled, so he was on his back, me on top.

My mouth was on his, my hands in his hair. I was practically humping him, needing friction through my crazy-unsexy flannel pajamas. He started pulling the pants and my undies down.  I began undoing the buttons on his black button-down shirt.

I released the elastic holding my hair in a bun and my hair went spilling down around my shoulders. I pulled the elastic out of his and his went spilling over me as he was turning me over to my back and undoing my pajama top’s buttons.

I raked my nails up his back under the t-shirt he had on underneath and he arched his back and hissed.

I did it again. Angrily.

And his eyes lit with something that turned me to a puddle of … horny. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t articulate. I could only feel.

I grabbed his hair and dragged his mouth to mine.

“Hate fucking,” he said. “Great idea, right? Take your frustrations out on my cock, gorgeous girl. I can take it.”

That didn’t piss me off. If anything, it fueled my lust. Yeah, I was going to unleash all my frustration right there, right then.

I kissed him feverishly. My tongue sought his and twisted up with it. And then my nails went down the back of his jeans and dug into his ass cheeks.

He thrust his pelvis at me and we rolled again, toward the middle of the bed, me on top. I scampered up to my knees, yanked his zipper down, yanked him out, lined him up, and slammed down on him, taking him in to the root in one quick motion.

Ouch. Too fast. I winced, but it didn’t stop me. His hands went to my boobs. I slapped them away and then I slapped his face.

His eyes went wide, and he grabbed my wrists and pinned them behind my back, sat up with him still inside me, and attacked my throat with his teeth.

My head rolled back, and I let out a breathy moan, got a hand free, and grabbed his throat and shoved his head back. He landed on his back, catching my wrist as he went down. He bit down on it and growled at me.

I moaned and rocked forward. His fingers went between my legs and started rubbing my clit. I rocked to and fro some more, then I attacked his throat with my teeth. He raked his nails up my back. They weren’t long, but I still felt the scrape.  It felt amazing. That, with everything else going on, the friction inside, his fingers circling my clit. I shivered and started to come. Hard. Loud. Spectacularly. Saying his name.

I collapsed on top of him for about three beats, and then he flipped me and threw my legs up over his shoulders and slammed back inside of me. I yelped and grabbed for his hips to keep him connected with me. My eyes rolled back in my head and the orgasm I thought was over wasn’t. It started back up again! I was so over sensitized, I was whimpering like a puppy. Trying to get away and keep him attached to me at the same time. I was writhing. And he wasn’t stopping.

He was twisting my nipples, biting my shoulder, nipping at my neck, fucking me so hard, skin slapping against skin, him fucking me at a weird sort of diagonal angle that felt just so good that I thought I was going to die. And then he was exploding in me. I felt it as he powered forward and the veins in his neck were straining. His mouth was open and then he let out a primal-sounding grunt that melted into a vibrating exhale. He pulled my legs down and then went to a complete dead weight on top of me.

I was breathing hard. So hard, having trouble catching my breath.

My girl-parts were on perma-tingle mode. They felt like they’d never be normal. My nipples were actually buzzing, or so it felt like.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” he said into my ear in a low and husky sexy voice. “See? Hate fucking can be like couples’ therapy.”

I blinked.

He kissed my lips, backed up on his knees, smiling at me, and then he pulled the blanket across to cover us up. He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me tight. “Any time you get pissed at me, you’re welcome to do that to bleed out that rage, okay, beautiful?” He kissed my mouth tenderly. So tenderly. And then he sifted his fingers through my hair and kissed one and then the other eyelid.

I started to panic. I had to go. I had to go!

“Shhh.” He pulled me tight to him and shifted so that my head was on his chest. “Listen, Jenna. Just listen.”

God, no. I was gonna cry. I couldn’t listen. I’d wanna listen until the day I died if I didn’t get away from him right effing now.

I pulled away. “I have to pee.”

He hesitated.

“Badly,” I added.

He let me go.

I headed out the door instead of to the ensuite bathroom.

“Where ya goin?” He sat up.

“The other bathroom. I … need something in there.”

Once I cleared the doorframe of my room, I took three steps and then ran the rest of the way to Pippa’s bedroom and rifled through her closet until finding and throwing on Capri yoga pants, a tank top, and a sweatshirt. I slipped on a pair of her ballet flats, then quickly went pee in the other bathroom and then I ran for it, grabbing my keys and nothing else and dashing down the stairs to get to my car, thinking Oh God, what have I done?

That was how I ended up in Ella’s bed.