Damaged and the Cobra (11 page)

Being alone in the house with Dylan was worse than
being alone with Larry. Normally, my stepfather ignored me or made snide
comments about my appearance. He really hated the decaled flowers on my
Converse. Usually, he ignored me though while Dylan tended to stare.

Even when he wasn’t staring, I could feel him
thinking about me. For whatever reason, Dylan became fixated on me after a
camping trip one summer when I was eighteen and he was twenty two. Usually guys
were obsessed with Raven, the blonde haired, blue eyed, countrified Barbie.

Dylan hated Raven though. Never had a single use
for her. I think it was because she smacked him upside the head a lot. Of
course, Raven only did that because she thought he was a fucking loser.
Her
words, not mine.
While I didn’t think Dylan was a loser, I did think he was
creepy as hell.

My stepbrother could have gotten a girlfriend. A
pretty one too and he’d dated off and on, but never serious. Not since the
camping trip when he fixated on me. I still didn’t know why especially since I
never filled out my bikini, burned easy, and was constantly sneezing from the
Maple pollen. There was nothing sexy about me that weekend.

Maybe Larry told Dylan to obsess over me. Whenever
his dad ordered him to do something, he obeyed. I suspected this was why Dylan
still lived at home. At twenty two, he owned a small construction business and
had a contract to work on the local schools. He had plenty of money to move
out, but Larry wanted him living at the house. For whatever reason, the asshole
liked having Dylan under his thumb. Well, I guessed the reason was because
Larry was an asshole and he liked having people under his thumb.

Half of Larry’s family worked for him at the
dealership. Even his thug brother Glenn who wasn’t good at anything besides
scaring people with his ugly mug. The bastard was more misogynistic than Larry
and referred to Raven in casual conversation as the cocktease.

When we arrived home after Dylan picked me up from
school, I went straight to my room and studied. As boring as the reading was, I
preferred it to watching Dylan brood. He had a face for sulking too. Handsome,
yet pouty like he was still an angsty teenage boy mad at his parents,
authority, and the world as a whole.

I felt Dylan’s dark eyes on me even before hearing
him at the door. Glancing towards him, I smiled then looked away quickly.

“That guy isn’t any good for you,” he muttered.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

“Aaron is nice, but I need to finish school.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, entering the room and leaning
against my small dresser. “How were you going to pay to have your tattoo fixed?
With blowjobs?”

Frowning at him now, I sighed. “What do you want?”

“I’ll pay to have the stupid butterfly get her
wings.”

“What makes you think it’s a her?”

“It’s a pink fucking worm. Logic said it was a
chick.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Why? I was the one who stopped the fuck from
finishing your tat.”

“Why are you cussing so much?”

“You’re pissing me off.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“You know,” Dylan said, walking closer and
scratching at his short Mohawk, “I thought maybe you didn’t like guys. Not that
you were a lesbian or anything. Just that you might be a late bloomer.”

“Is that a crack about my boobs?” I said, trying to
change the subject.

“You’re beautiful and I want you.”

Swallowing hard, I sighed again and held my heavy
book in front of me. “I see you as a brother.”

Dylan’s dark eyes raged immediately. “I’m not your
fucking brother! I met you as a teenager! You aren’t my sister!”

Standing up so better to defend myself, I also
figured running was an option. His expression softer now, Dylan hovered over
me.

“You don’t need that loser,” Dylan said, his voice
calm. “You need someone who knows you. Someone who understands you.”

“You thought I didn’t like guys. I don’t know how
well you think you know me.”

Dylan jaw clenched. “You’re mocking me? I pick you
up and drive you around every day like your little bitch and you’re going to
treat me like shit now?”

“Having you drive me wasn’t my idea. That was
Larry. I said I would take the bus or bum rides.”

“Better than spending time with me.”

“Dylan, I don’t know what you want.”

“I told you what I want.”

“Well, that’s never going to happen.”

Dylan grabbed my jaw and forced my head up so he
could kiss me. I nailed him in the crotch with the book immediately. Jumping
back, he lifted his hand to hit me and I stared in horror. The blow never came
though.

“What the fuck?” he said, adjusting his jeans.
“What’s wrong with you?”

“Me? You’re the one grabbing me.”

“I wasn’t going to hit you.”

“Yes, you were,” I said, holding the book in both
hands and ready to pound him if he got close again.

“You hurt me. It was a reflex to fight back.”

“Well, sorry about your balls, but you hurt me and
it was a reflex.”

Dylan smiled tightly. “That guy is a piece of
shit.”

“You don’t know him.”

“Neither do you.”

Studying Dylan, I waited for him to make a move,
but he sat on the dresser instead.

“Why me?” I asked when I realized he wasn’t
leaving.

“You remember that camping trip?” he said, studying
his hands. “I got that damn fish hook stuck in my hand and Dad yanked it out.
Just tore it out like it wasn’t attached to my fucking body. I was bleeding and
it fucking hurt. Margo patted my shoulder then walked away. Your mom is a
bitch, you know? Like all of the women Larry marries, she’s a cold bitch. My
mom is like that too. You were gentle though and cleaned it up. I liked how
gentle you were.”

My question finally answered, I stepped closer to
Dylan with the book in my grip for security.

“Other girls would be gentle. You just need to find
someone who’s not like our moms. Don’t be like Larry.”

“He’s a cold fuck too.”

“Choose to be someone else. We all choose. Larry
chooses to be an asshole. You need to make a different choice and find a woman
who isn’t like the ones you grew up with.”

Dylan studied me through squinted eyes. “Is that
what you did? Chose not to be your bitch mom and sister.”

“Raven isn’t a bitch.”

Dylan laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“She’s not a bitch like my mom,” I said, smiling
grudgingly. “She just seems bitchy because it’s how she protects her heart. I
assume that’s why you act like an asshole.”

Dylan grinned. “It’s one reason, yeah.”

“Choose different, Dylan. You’re young enough to be
anyone, so don’t be Larry. I hate that one of him exists. The world doesn’t
need more.”

“True,” he said, jumping off the dresser. “If you
had let me, I would have kissed you until you forget about that tattoo thug.”

“He’s not a thug and I don’t doubt your kissing
skills. I just doubt I could ever think of you as anything more than a
brother.”

“We could try.”

“No offense, but eww. I don’t want to kiss my
brother.”

Dylan rolled his eyes and walked out the door. “Not
your brother.”

“Still eww,” I called out to him as he disappeared
down the hall.

When I heard Dylan laugh, I finally set my book
down. The feel of him on my skin creeped me out, so I washed my face then
showered when that wasn’t enough. Later, as my damp hair dripped on the boring
school book, I realized why Dylan’s touch bothered me. Not because he was my
brother. He just wasn’t Aaron.

The Christmas before, Mom bought me a tiny
trampoline that I was supposed to use while watching TV. When I saw the gift, I
thought it was a joke, but she actually thought I would enjoy bouncing. Apparently
when I told her I needed more exercise than I was getting by working so much,
the trampoline was her solution.

After putting the thing together, I stuck in the
corner of my gym so Mom would think I used it. I never did, of course, and
figured I’d give it away eventually. Seeing Lark bouncing on it though, I was
very thankful for that trampoline.

Painting her while she bounced nearby to The
Breeders, I alternated between laughing at her enthusiasm and adjusting my
shorts as a result of my enthusiasm.

“We had a trampoline when I was a kid and I loved
it.”

“I see that. Please, don’t stop.”

Grinning, she winked at me and bounced around in a
circle. Her small breasts bounced along with her, unhampered by a bra since
we’d gone straight from bed to the studio. Wearing only a pink tee and purple
panties, she looked colorful, yet overdressed for my taste.

“You’re making my butt too big in the sketch,” she
said, bouncing slower now while studying my pinup version of her. “It’s not that
round.”

“As someone who had spent the last day admiring
your butt, trust me that my sketch is accurate.”

“Really? I have a nicer butt than I thought.”

Laughing, I tried to focus, but she was really
bouncing again. Once her tee came flying at me, my focus wasn’t on the
painting.

“Can you show me how to draw?” Lark asked, sliding
up against me. Each time she wiggled her butt, those panties slid farther off.

Taking her hand, I dipped those slim fingers into
the dark chalk. Lark leaned against me as I guided her fingers where I had been
sketching her breasts.

“Can I make them bigger?” Lark mumbled,
concentrating on the picture.

“Only if I can touch them while you work.”

“Sure, have at it.”

As Lark sketched herself huge breasts then giggled
about the result, I explored her delicate shoulders. When I grazed her spine
with my fingers, she shivered and smiled back at me. Soon, I kneeled down
behind her and removed the barely clinging panties.

“Yes, I know this butt,” I murmured, stroking each
cheek and leaving smudges of chalk behind.

“I’m busy,” she said, now giving the sketch giant
nipples. “I don’t even know how I’ll carry around these watermelons. I want to
make my butt more bodacious too.”

Lark goofed around, turning the pinup into a weird
oversexed monstrosity. Having her ignoring both me and my erection wasn’t an
option though, so I bit one of her cheeks gently. When she simply squirmed, yet
focused on her picture, I spread open those sweet cheeks and gave her a good
deep lick.

A gasp followed by a shudder, Lark stood very still
until I licked again.

“Hey,” she murmured, melting into my arms. “I wish
I could draw like you.”

“You just need practice,” I said, resting Lark on
her back. Spreading her legs, I gave a light nip to her inner thigh. “With
time, you’ll be an expert.

“Liar. I’ll never be any good. Oh, wait, are we
still talking about art? If you mean the other thing, I’m already a pro. If I
had those giant boobs, I bet I could charge a lot too.”

Blowing on her wet pussy, I smiled as she squirmed
for me. I loved when she wiggled around in anticipation. Hell, I loved
everything about her and I needed to tell her, but not during sex. That was too
lame and clichéd and nothing about our relationship was less than perfect.
Well, the hiding was annoying, but temporary.

Lark always called out my name when she came. She
sounded surprised too like the pleasure was unexpected. Each time, she smiled
at me afterwards and wiggled for more.

“I’m very limber,” she said as I slid a pillow
under her butt to prop her hips up on the hard floor. “You’re very energetic.
We make a great team.”

Lark sighed as I filled her then smiled and
wiggled.

“The best team.”

Hearing the emotion in my voice, Lark reached up
and caressed my cheek before her fingers slid down the cobra from its face to
the tail curled around my heart tattoo.

Lark held my gaze as I thrust deep into her. Even
in the heat of the moment, the look in her eyes wasn’t passion. She stared at
me with a tender expression and I could imagine seeing it for the rest of my life.
Lark must have understood what I was feeling.

“It’s okay,” she whispered as I came. “We’re
together and everything is okay.”

Holding her in my arms, I wished she would stay and
we could stop hiding. I wanted to show her off to my family. Pretending my heart
wasn’t in her hands was a lie and I had no interest in lying to Lark.

We showered off the heat, sweat, and chalk then
Lark curled up in my lap on the couch.

“Tell me something that’ll shock me,” I said,
kissing her damp hair.

“I hate college and wish I could quit.”

“Really?”

Lark looked ashamed as she continued, “I thought
I’d like it because I love to read, but the schoolwork is so boring and I hate
reading all that crap. I also think I hate the law. It’s boring too. I’m going
to spend my life working on boring shit and it depresses me.”

“Why don’t you quit or work on something else?”

“Because I’d be the loser like my family said I
was. I said I would be a paralegal and they laughed like I was stupid. If I
admit I hate school, they’ll win. Besides, I’d have wasted all the time and money
on school.”

“It’s not wasted if you learned something from the
experience.”

“Like I hate college?” she asked, smiling tightly.

“Sure. If you finish the year, you’ll have those credits
for later. That way, if you ever figure out what you want to study and want to
go back, you can.”

“That’s a good idea, but my family would make fun
of me.”

“They’re losers, Lark. Fuck their opinions.
Besides, do you think they’d be proud after you graduated? They’d probably just
find another reason to make you feel bad.”

“That’s true. I just thought it would make me
different because the women in my family never go to college.”

“What about the women in your dad’s family?”

“I don’t really know my dad’s side or want to.”

“Where’s your real dad?” I asked as she teased the
cobra with her tongue.

Pausing, she sighed. “He’s dead.”

“How?”

“Killed in prison.”

“What was he doing time for?”

“A lot of stuff,” she said, resting her head
against my chest as I wrapped her tighter. “The main thing was holding up a
convenience store and shooting the teenager working there. She didn’t die. Not
like that makes it okay, but I just didn’t want you to think I was the daughter
of a man who would kill a girl for doing her job.”

“You can’t control what kind man your dad was.”

“I know that, but having a loser for a dad makes me
feel like a loser sometimes. The sad thing is Larry’s the best man my mom’s
ever been with.”

“He’s an asshole.”

Lark grinned slightly. “I know, but he’s the best
asshole she’s ever been with. Like he makes her happy.”

“He’s still an asshole.”

 “Yeah, but the women in my family always end up
with assholes.”

Caressing her freckles, I smiled. “Not always.”

Sharing my smile, she whispered, “No, maybe not
always.”

“No maybe.”

Lark held my gaze and we were both afraid to say
the words. Even knowing the other one was thinking them, we avoided any
declarations.

“I heard you have a bitch ex girlfriend,” Lark
said, changing the subject in the least subtle way.

“I’ve dated mostly nice girls. I like nice girls,”
I said, grinning down at her. “Kristen seemed nice, but she was a bitch. Still
is a bitch, but she’s not my problem now.”

“Did you love her?” Lark asked, testing out that
word.

“Not even a little.”

“But it hurt you when she cheated.”

Assuming Bailey was the one who blabbed about
Kristen, I nodded. “I thought I understood her. I’m pretty good at reading
people’s bullshit. I’m not a lie detector, but I can tell a person’s character.
Or maybe I only can when I’m not that close. Maybe I can’t with girls, I mean.”

“Do you think I have good character?”

“The best.”

Smiling, she ran her fingers down my cheek and
tapped the cobra’s face.

“I’m really loyal,” Lark said, focusing on the
snake instead of me. “My mom said I get stuck in the mud a lot. If I like
something, I just like it forever. I don’t change. I wasn’t just saying that
the first night.”

Leaning down, I kissed her “And you like me?”

“I should play coy, right? I should make you work
for it, but I can’t. I don’t want to lie, so I’ll just tell the truth. I like
you more than I’ve liked any guy ever. I’m a little obsessed with you. Like if
you dumped me, I would stalk you.”

My smile widened. “Your honesty is really hot.”

“Would you stalk me if I dumped you?”

“Of course not,” I said, pulling a blanket over us.
“I wouldn’t need to because I’d kidnap you and keep you as my muse slave.”

“I’d escape. I’m wily like that.”

“I bet you would, but we’ll never have to find
out.”

Lark and I stared at each other as if waiting for
the other one to be brave enough to say it.

“You’re mine,” I whispered. “No one else.”

Lark gave a gentle smile like in the studio. “I
love you too.”

Finally, it was out in the open. The words sounded
perfect and natural.

“I loved you last weekend,” I admitted. “I should
have said that, but I was a jackass.”

“I loved you on our first date. I would have
mentioned it, but I’m a bigger jackass.”

Laughing, I leaned her back on the couch. “I want
to celebrate the love between two jackasses.”

“No,” she said, squirming free. “I want to be on
top. I like exploring.”

“And what you like, you’ll always like.”

Tugging off her tee, Lark grinned. “I’ll be an old
woman and still enjoying my cobra. Oh, and the hot guy attached to it.”

Kissing her hard, I had more than my muse now. I
had my love and we were going to create something beautiful together.