I don’t care if I ever see another fucking tree in my life, because maybe now that I’ve fucked every woman within fifty miles and can’t look at myself in the mirror anymore, I’ve reached the end of my rope and won’t be so chicken shit that I can’t stand up to my dad.
Nights are better. When I’m tired, and I just want some ass before I go to bed, but in the morning… I don’t wake up wanting to be where I am and looking forward to doing shit I don’t want to do. I’m bored.
In another minute, I feel her moans vibrate on my palm, her pussy contracts, squeezing my cock, and I grunt as I finish her off, forcing hard breaths in her ear, so she thinks I finished, too.
My skin itches where it touches her.
I remove my hand.
“I love the feel of your cum inside me,” she breathes out.
I didn’t come. And I’m wearing a condom, Dunderhead.
“Noah!” And I hear the baseball bat hit the log column downstairs. “Get up!”
I wipe my face with my hands and roll off Remi.
Fucking prick. A cool sweat covers my body, and I stand up and pull off the condom, tossing it. I pull on my jeans as I throw her T-shirt to her, but I can feel her eyes on me as she sits up. I need some goddamn air and some space to wallow in my shame.
If I can’t come even once, that’s unacceptable. I’m good in bed, goddammit. Women leave my room happy.
Not like the Boulevard of Broken Dreams that’s my father’s bed when they realize he only wants sex and not a relationship or Skid Row upstairs in Kaleb’s room where women are lucky to leave alive.
I, on the other hand, am really good at this shit.
Remi stares at me, a flirty smile on her lips like we’re supposed to make plans for next time or something, but I just dip down and give her a quick peck on the lips that hopefully says, “bye.”
And please, please be gone when I get back from the shower.
I turn around, grab a Bud from my little fridge, and leave the room, shutting the door behind me.
I twist off the top and slide it into my pocket. I’m gonna need a buzz this morning.
Carrying the beer across the hall, I hear footfalls to my right and look over to see Tiernan stomping up the stairs.
She sniffles, not really looking sad but frustrated. “So nasty,” she growls to herself, her voice thick with a sob. “I have… like chicken shit under my fingernails. So gross. Why is he so weird? Just buy your chicken at the store like everyone else, you know?”
My snort almost escapes, but I keep quiet. She hasn’t noticed me yet, and I don’t want her to. She’s too damn funny, and I like watching her get pissed off. My only little ray of sunshine in this big ol’ shithole.
Although, I do sympathize with her. Cleaning out the chicken coops is no party.
“And it better be done good enough for him, because I’m not…” And she breaks into air quotes, “doing it fifteen times until I get it right.” She mimics my father’s deep voice and dumbass alpha orders.
I laugh to myself, utterly delighted. Someone who hates him as much as I do.
Okay, okay. I don’t hate him. I just… hate myself.
She heads for the bathroom, and I can’t stop myself as I rush over and grab the door handle before she can.
“There’s another bathroom downstairs,” I tease, unable to keep myself from fucking up her morning some more.
“I need the shower.” She scowls up at me, her eyes red but her mouth tight. She sports cute French braids down both sides of her head and tries grabbing the handle from me.
“We’re going fishing,” I argue, shoving my body in front of hers in our battle for the door. “You’re just going to get dirty again.”
She slaps my hand. “I was here first!” And then she yanks at my arms and shoves at my chest. “If you have to piss, then you do it downstairs.”
“I need a shower, too.”
“Why?” she mocks, repeating my words back to me. “We’re going fishing.”
“’Cause I got dirtier than you did this morning,” I laugh out, taunting her.
She shoots me a dirty look, telling me she knows exactly how I got dirty, but neither one of us gives up. I yank one of her braids, she elbows me, and I laugh, seeing a little smile peek out from her, too, as we battle.
I finally get the door open only for her to shove herself in front of me to try to get into the bathroom first. I step on her foot and she stumbles, but I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her back as she grabs hold of the doorframe, not giving up the ship.
Laughter rolls through me, the sudden urge to take her to the ground and tickle the shit out of her clawing at me. I can’t wait to get her to the lake. I’m not sure I’ve ever played with a woman I wasn’t worried about screwing.
I pull her off the doorframe, and she screams, but it evolves into a laugh as her legs—bare in jean shorts—kick at me, and her stinky Vans hit the wall.
“Shit, you stink,” I say. “Did you roll around in shit or something?”
“I stepped in it!” she growls.
I chuckle. It’s like having a little sister. Maybe the day won’t wind up so badly, after all.
But just as I finish the thought, another voice pierces the silence. “Noah?” someone says.
My stomach sinks, and I halt, my smile slowly falling. Tiernan and I fall silent, and I release her, both of us standing upright as we turn our heads toward my bedroom door.
Remi stands there in the doorway, watching us.
And she clearly didn’t take the hint to leave as she’s only dressed in one of my T-shirts instead of her own clothes.
She crooks her finger at me, and I’d rather cut off my left ball.
I push Tiernan into the bathroom, following her, and slam the door shut, locking us in. I push her down on the toilet.
“What the hell are you doing?” She glares up at me.
“Just sit down,” I order her, reaching behind the shower curtain and turning on the water. “Just… sit down until she leaves, okay?”
“Why?”
Because I need a cock blocker. Why do you think, dumbass? If I shower alone, Remi might try to join me or some shit.
“Just do what I say,” I tell her instead.
Tiernan’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion, and I shake my head.
Remi’s sweat feels like it’s sitting on my lungs with the thousand other mornings of waking up to faces just like hers. I’m nothing, and the longer I’m not drunk, the longer I have to face that fact. I take a swig of the beer.
But as I drink, Tiernan bolts off the toilet seat and leaps for the door.
I grab the back of her jeans and haul her back, her body slamming into mine.
“Noah!” she scolds.
But I wrap my arms around her anyway, pulling her away from the door. “Don’t leave me. She wants my body again.”
“Ugh.”
I hold her, taking another big swallow.
But then a knock hits the hardwood, and we still.
Nooooo…
“Noah?” I hear Remi call. “Are you coming to the bar tonight?” the girl asks through the door.
“Yes!” Tiernan shouts. “He’s com—”
I clamp my free hand over her mouth.
And then another bellow sounds from downstairs. “Noah!”
I flinch. What the fuck? Is everyone obsessed with me today? Thank God Kaleb can’t talk, too.
Tiernan thrashes in my arms, and I don’t know why, but I squeeze her tighter as I back away from the locked door, closing my eyes.
“Noah!” he shouts again.
“I’m in the shower!” I finally belt out at my father downstairs.
Jesus.