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7

Razor

“ Y ou want to watch a movie?”

Nothing.

She doesn’t even look up from the book she’s thumbing through—one of Grams’ old photo albums. Ornery girl has been giving me the silent treatment all day and it’s starting to piss me the fuck off.

I was trying to make amends, trying to apologize for what I did, but she acted like she had no use for it.

And now, she hates me even more.

She won’t even look at me.

Though, she did have her fill earlier.

Whether she’ll admit it or not, she’s still attracted to me.

Her little nipples poked right out of her shirt when I caught her staring between my legs this morning, and she had that look in her eyes.

The one I remember all too well.

It was always easy to read when she was in need of me.

Her eyes glossed over with a heaviness and her cheeks turned pink.

They still turn pink every time I move in close.

Though, anger could also be raising the blood to those cheeks.

I shut the TV off, my blood pressure off the charts.

I haven’t had sex in over two years, and with her in my space, the need is almost unbearable.

God, she was always so sweet and eager.

As soon as we started fucking, it was all we did.

She wanted my dick around the clock.

I’d even wake up with her little pussy attached, taking what she needed.

It was always so fucking good with her.

Never felt that way with anyone else.

All the other girls, all the sweetbutts, it was fun, but never electric.

“Dance for me.” My sanity snaps.

My demand coming out harsh and tight.

My patience is balancing on a tight rope that’s fraying every time I take a breath and smell her sweet essence.

The scent that is distinctly Kensington.

I need her fucking attention.

I need to hear her sweet voice and have her eyes on me.

Her head snaps up, and it looks like she wants to strangle me.

It’s not the reaction I want, but it’s something.

At this point, I’ll take anything.

“And you better make it worth my money,” I add, watching as her anger burns hotter.

This isn’t about the money, but if money is her driving motivation, I’ll use it.

What she doesn’t know is that I already wired the bank the balance on her mortgage and started looking into what else she’s got in the way of debt so I can take care of that too.

I don’t plan on informing her of the fact ‘cause she’s liable to chop my balls off.

Plus, it’s the only leverage I have to keep her here.

Her thinking she needs to dance for the cash is the only card I can play right now.

“How about I choose a song?” I ignore the fire she’s throwing in my direction and pick up my phone, scrolling through my playlist. I know exactly which song I want.

The one we danced to at our senior prom.

The one she told me she wanted for our “first dance” as husband and wife.

I’m hoping it will remind her of how things used to be between us.

Back when we were madly in love.

Back before I fucked things up.

I know it takes more than words to earn her forgiveness, but with the hatred she still harbors towards the club, towards my brothers, I don’t know how to break past her wall.

All I want is for her to see that they’re good men.

That I’m still a good man.

I’m still the guy she fell in love with.

Maybe I’m a little tougher and a hell of a lot stronger, but I don’t operate on evil.

And neither do my brothers.

As soon as the song starts to play through my speakers, her shoulders tense.

She’s practically gritting her teeth.

Hating me even more.

I should probably change it, but I don’t.

I want her to remember.

I want her to remember who I was to her, who we were together.

Back before I fucked things up.

I want her to feel me in the beat of the drums as she sways her hips.

I want the memories to pulse through her body as she moves.

I need the depth of my love to flow through her, to get her to see me again.

“You’re on the clock,” I grit as my desperation wanes.

“Fine.” She abruptly stands.

“You want me to dance, I’ll dance.”

She steps in front of the fireplace and stares into the flames as the song continues to play.

Seconds ticking by but she doesn’t move.

It’s like she’s lost in thought.

I search for words, but I’ve never been good at this shit.

And this morning didn’t work in my favor.

Telling her how much I regret my actions did nothing.

So, I’m not sure what the fuck I’m supposed to say.

I’m at a total loss.

The song plays and my tongue remains tied.

When the last note hits, she reaches up to grip the mantle, her hips beginning to sway as the next song starts to beat through the speakers.

I don’t think she was lost in the past, I think she didn’t like my song choice.

The frustration and doubt seep in but are quickly drowned out by the sexy swivel of her hips.

The glide of her curves as the music moves through her.

My eyes zero right in on that perfect round ass that’s grown plump and firm over the years.

It hypnotizes my thoughts.

Warms the frustration over and steals the air from my lungs.

I sit back, mesmerized as she hooks her fingers into the waistband of her flannel pants and slips them down her legs.

She always had sexy-as-fuck legs.

Long and lean, toned.

I loved having them wrapped around my waist. Wrapped around my neck as I ate her out.

Damn, her pussy was so sweet.

She turns to face me, slowly.

Seducing me with every single movement.

Abrading my control.

She grinds her way down to the floor and back up.

Her hands roaming over her curves.

Teasing over her shirt, over her breasts.

Sliding up into her hair.

She grips onto it, dropping her head back on her shoulders as she sways.

I used to love running my fingers through those silky curls, yank her back for a kiss when I was fucking her from behind.

Her little ass nestled in my crotch.

She lifts her head, opening her eyes and her stare locks right on mine.

It no longer looks like she wants to rip my head off.

The anger has settled a bit.

Either that or she’s a temptress, knowing exactly how to lure in her prey.

When her eyes drop to my phone on the couch, I gather her motive.

She’s playing her hand, a smart attacker, but she doesn’t know who she’s dealing with.

She starts moving in slowly, making my heart pound with every seductive step.

She stops between my legs and my eyes travel up slowly.

Her hips swaying to the beat as she watches me.

She’s too beautiful for fucking words.

No wonder the men in the crowd went crazy.

I want to pull her down on my lap and fuck her until she forgets.

Until she lets me back into her heart.

But I don’t think that’s what’s going to do it.

She lets her fingers trail down her shirt, teasing it over her stomach.

My focus gets caught between her legs.

Her panties are skintight and a sheer pink, almost nude, detailing every line of her folds.

Showing off the little button on top.

The one no longer hidden by hair.

She used to have a tiny patch of curls that I would play with as we’d lay on the couch together and watch a movie.

It would drive her crazy.

She’d try to fight it, knowing my grandparents were somewhere in the house, but she couldn’t resist. She’d beg for me to play with her.

The cutest, shyest little kitten on the outside, wanting to be prim and proper, but when you get her worked up, she’d turn feral.

Always so wet and hungry for it.

Her shirt drops to the floor, drawing my attention back into focus, and my mouth waters.

Her tits have nearly doubled in size.

Round and full. With those same rosy little peaks perched in the centers.

They haven’t changed.

Still small and tight.

I shift forward, drawn to the sight, needing a taste, but her foot lands on my chest, stopping me from moving closer.

“Nuh-uh.” She tsk s.

“You’re not allowed to touch. Same rules apply as they do at the club, Sean.”

I grip her ankle, running my rough fingers over her soft skin, the need pumping through my veins.

I’m not a man to be told no.

Especially when it comes to her.

Never needed anything so fucking bad in my life.

And my sanity is fading fast.

“I’m your boss now, babe. I make the rules.”

She tries to tug her leg out from my hold, but I keep a lock on her.

“I’m not going to be your paid whore, Sean. If you want me to dance, I’ll dance. But that’s all you get.”

I slide my hand higher, running up her thigh and right to her backside, yanking her down onto my lap.

She falls forward on a gasp, gripping my shoulders to brace herself.

I sit up, only inches from her gorgeous face, fighting not to steal a kiss.

But I’m on thin ice, and if I want to win her heart, I need to rein myself in.

“I’m not paying for sex, Kens.” That I’ll be getting for free.

“But for 4k, you dance on my fucking lap.”

“I didn’t give lap dances at the club.”

That’s a fucking relief.

“Like I said, I’m the boss, babe. And I’m paying fucking double, so grind those little hips down and shake these fucking tits in my face.”

Her glare is fierce.

The anger burning so hot I can feel it pulsing up the end of my dick, threatening to spill over.

She may be mad, but I know she wants the money.

And I’m a sick fuck for holding it over her head, but it’s all I’ve fucking got.

After eight years, I need her close.

Need to feel her and breathe her in.

I need to have her in my fucking arms.

“You’re an ass. You know that?”

Yep, I’m well aware.

“I’m an ass who’s trying to keep you safe from those fuckers at the club. The ass who wants to help you out with all that debt you got. You deserve better, Kens, but knowing your stubborn ass, you’d never let me help you willingly, so if you don’t want to take my money for free, then start moving those little hips.”

She hesitates, silently staring, and I have no clue what’s going through her head.

Her face is unreadable.

When her hips start to move, I take it as a win.

She raises up onto her knees and starts rolling her hips in the air.

Her eyes closed tight as she feels the music.

All I’m feeling is the ache pulsing between my legs.

The need running so hot I’m breaking into a sweat.

I watch her plump tits bounce as she moves, and my desperation grows heavier.

She keeps up her teasing dance, and the control I have starts to slip to a thin line, my restraint hollowing out with her every move.

When she bends forward, squeezing her tits together in front of my face, I lock my arms around her back, keeping her braced right where she is.

“Feed me, Kensy. Just give me one fucking taste.” The jagged gruffness in my voice is almost unrecognizable to my own ears.

I’ve never had to fight this hard for control.

Never craved anything this damn much.

I fucking need her.

“Is this what you want?” She gropes her breasts, pushing and pulling them right in front of my face.

“You want to suck on these tight little nipples.” She pinches each between her fingers.

God, yes. Never wanted anything more.

“Tell you what.” She brings one nipple forward, brushing it across my cheek, and a groan rumbles from my throat.

“I’ll let you suck on me, if you let me use your phone. I don’t want Kitty worrying about me being a no-show tonight.”

She brushes the tight little peak against me again, and I snap, turning my head and latching on.

Drawing it right between my lips, lathing over the smooth little nub with my tongue.

I already feel the cum sneaking from the end of my cock.

She lets out a gasp and I suck harder.

Tonguing every inch.

Drawing on her like she’s my last breath.

The longer I play, the more confident I become.

She’s not pulling away.

She isn’t fighting me off or giving me hell.

She’s staying put. Her breaths growing heavier.

The fire burning hotter in her dark eyes as I nurse on her supple tit.

And her cheeks are as pink as can be.

It’s the look I remember all too well.

The look of need. And I’m happy to satisfy that need.

I grip her hips and tug her down on my hard length.

“Fuck, baby,” I breathe, smothering myself into her soft flesh.

“Need you so fucking bad.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, she jerks back, pulling right from my lips.

Right out of my hold.

It’s like I said something wrong.

Her eyes widen and she quickly climbs off my lap.

“Song is over and so is your dance. Now, can I use your phone?” She holds out her hand for it, but like hell I’m giving it to her.

What in the fuck just happened?

She was putty in my hands.

Her pussy grinding against my dick.

And I know she’s soaked, felt it through my pants.

I can see how swollen her clit is, poking out further from under her panties.

“Your phone, Sean?”

“Never agreed to your deal. But if you want to get back on my lap, finish what we started, I’ll let you use it.”

The ice in her eyes chills the blood in my veins.

She turns on a huff and stomps her way back to the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

I run my hands down my face, letting out all the pent-up frustration that’s built in my chest in one giant sigh.

I have to adjust my aching balls to get them out of their pinned state.

I fucking felt it. She was right there with me.

Soaked in her need and rubbing all over me.

So why the fuck did she stop?

My ass is out of my chair, storming after her.

I open the door and find her putting on one of my flannels, making my balls hurt even more.

Fuck, she looks hot.

“You want to tell me what the fuck just happened?”

Her head glances back over her shoulder as she keeps buttoning those little buttons, keeping her pretty tits hidden from my view.

“You paid for a dance. I danced. Like I said, I’m not going to fuck you.”

I move in closer—about two seconds from pinning her down on the bed and spanking that stubborn ass.

“Don’t deny it, Kens. You wanted it just as fucking bad. Felt how fucking wet you were.” I step up to her back, my head dipping right to her ear, brushing over her soft skin.

“I can take the pain away, baby. I can make you feel so fucking good. All you got to do is let me in.”

She stiffens at my words, jerking away from me.

“The pain you caused is in here.” She points to the left side of her chest. “Nothing you do or say can take it away, Sean. The night you fucked around with those girls…” she seethes.

“The night you broke my heart can’t be fucked out of my system. You made your choice. You chose the brotherhood. And now you have to live with that choice. Keeping me here, locked up in this cabin, isn’t going to change the way I feel about you. All it’s doing is making me hate you more.”

If I could go back and change one fucking day, one fucking moment, it would be the moment I let myself feel pressured into doing something I didn’t want to do.

It wasn’t the guys’ fault.

I know I have to own my actions.

But I was so desperate for their acceptance, I chose to betray my heart.

She’s right. I can’t fuck that away.

Nor can I turn back time.

“I know I made the wrong choice. I’ve lived with that regret every day for the last fucking eight years. I don’t know what more you want from me, Kens. I’m sorry. I fucked up. And all I fucking wish is that I could go back to that one fucking night and do it all over again. You were always my choice. Always have been. And always fucking will be.”

I turn and storm from the room, needing some fresh air.

I can’t breathe. It feels just like it did on the day I watched Rubble take the bullet for me and fall to his death.

My world is caving in, burying me alive under the weight of every single wrong choice I’ve ever made.

I can’t fix any of it.