Poker Face (7 page)

“Stop it, Drew. Let go!”

“No. You let go. I swear, Filly… I’m not
playing. It’s late. I’m tired. Don’t touch this damn blanket again.” He said
rolling back to his side taking her covers with him.

Her hands went to her waist. “And if I
do?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to find out,”
his words were muffled in his little cocoon.

She could feel her breaths coming quick.
Anger festering. She wanted so bad to hurt him. Just enough to show him she
wasn’t going to take his crap.  “I can’t sleep on the couch. I’m already
starting to feel run down.”

“Then sleep in here. I don’t care as
long as you're quiet.”

“In the bed with you?” she laughed.

He glanced back at her with an impatient
expression. “I’m not going to touch you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Megan stood silent for several minutes.
Going over her options. It was obvious he wasn’t going to cave on this one. But
neither was she. If he got his way now, he would always think he could bully
her. With a sigh she crawled under the comforter, wiggled to the very edge of
the mattress and tucked the covers in securely around her form. She focused on
the ceiling, and not his breathing.

“Can you please, stop rubbing your foot
on the sheet?” he mumbled in a groggy voice.

“It’s a habit. If you don’t like it, go
sleep on the couch.”

After a few minutes of him not saying
anything she glanced over, stared at his back. It really wasn’t that bad. He
had his side, and she had hers. There was absolutely no attraction between
them. She inhaled deep, and his cologne seductively invaded her sense of smell.
Who was she fooling? It sucked. Even when she was a young girl and went away to
camp with her friends she’d never been able to go to sleep at night. How was
she supposed to sleep with a complete stranger a leg length away?

Day Four

Drew squinted hazy eyes against the
bright morning sun forcing its way through the blinds. He groaned and tried to
stretch, but found it nearly impossible “what the….” he lifted his head and
glanced down. Last night was not a dream. He really was in bed with a girl. An
arm was laying limp over his waist, and a cheek was glued to his chest by a
puddle of drool.

“Alright, sleep beauty, time to get back
on your side of the bed.” He nudged her.

Megan mumbled something incoherent and
her hold tightened. His head sank back down into the pillow with a sigh as his
father’s demands slammed into him full force.
“All you have to do is have
sex with her.”
It wouldn’t be that hard, that hard to just get it over with
and done. She would leave. His life would go back to normal. He shoved a hand
through his hair with a frustrated sigh, staring up at the ceiling. He imaged
how she would struggle at first, but then give in to the scorching heat of the
moment turning to wet putty under his hands. He went hard as an iron pike, same
as he had been most of the night.

Was he crazy? Why was he even
considering it? It wasn’t like him to get involved in his father’s perverse
little games. He had moved out to the ranch for the sole purpose of outrunning
all the craziness associated with his family name, and now he found himself
right smack in the center of all the bullshit.

A leg came across him. Megan squirmed,
the swell of her soft breast mashed into his side. Her body pressed up against
him. So tempting. Oh good heavens, the woman was tormenting him even in her
sleep. As if his hand had a mind of its own it trailed down over warm flesh and
dug into her leg forcing it up and over the length of his erection. Without
warning, some primitive sound erupted from deep in his throat, and he knew he
was in deep shit. He scrambled out from under her landing with a thump on the
cold hardwood floor.

What the hell are you doing!
You’re turning into him!

Megan peered over the side of the bed
with sleepy eyes. “You okay?”

He cleared his throat and blinked
attempting to force his gaze away from those eyes intent on making him suffer.
“Yeah. How did you sleep?”

She sat up in the bed: hair a tangled
mess, and wearing no makeup. He’d never seen a woman look more beautiful in his
life. His gaze dropped down lower to the swell of her breast under her shirt
and his brows came together as he suddenly became aware she wasn’t wearing a
bra. Her nipples peaked under the thin fabric of her T-shirt as she stretched
and yawned as if to tease him. “Awful. How about you?”

“I.. uh.. same.”

“Good… maybe you’ll stop being a dick
and sleep on the couch from now on.” She slid out of the bed, went over to the
closet, and pulled dug out a pair of jeans and shirt. The bedroom door slammed
behind her. He heard the pipes whine as the shower came on.

Drew pulled himself up off the floor,
sat on the side of the bed with his elbows planted on his knees, face in his
hands. He was screwed. Inside he felt anger festering, building: anger that his
father thought so little of him that he’d involve him in something like this.
The man had no morals or feelings what-so-ever. Anger that Paul Stratford would
bet against him believing his precious stepdaughter would never give in to a
lowlife, the lowlife being him. Anger that Megan had come there, slept in his
bed stretching and yawning like a content cat parading her braless tits as if
she was completely unaware of the sexual tension in the room.
Dumbass,
that’s because it’s only one-sided. To her….you’re harmless. Her father was
smart in betting against you…..the man knew what he was doing.
His jaw
clenched as he shoved both hands through his hair, focused on the floor. Damn
it all to hell! Everyone completely underestimated him.

*******

“I was kind of hoping you’d hang around
and help. I could use the company.” Robbie said crushing his lips against hers.
His hand gripped the back of her neck holding her tightly in place. “Maybe
tonight, we can get together at my place? Watch a movie or something?”

Or
something
… it wasn’t too awful
hard to guess what that
something
was. He was a guy after all.

Good Lord, his hands and mouth were
everywhere as he pinned her to the bathroom wall forcing his heavy weight into
her, grinding his erection against her inner thigh. Megan’s eyes flashed,
darting around at the small bathroom, becoming smaller by the minute.

“Robbie… I can’t breathe.” She struggled
against him, whimpering. He brought his head up and held her gaze until
comprehension dawned. Megan resembled a frighten kitten being gummed by a
toothless Saint Bernard. Her sweaty palms were stuck to the wall, her body
rigid against him. Good grief. She was sorry she’d ever flirted with the guy.

He glanced down at her shirt, which he’d
managed in the midst of all the groping to get partially unbuttoned, her ample
breast spilling over the black bra she was wearing. “Oh. Guess you’re not
really feeling it, huh?”

You’d wanted empty sex, Megan. This is as empty as you get.

“It’s all happening a little too fast.”
The perfect brush off came to her, thanks to Drew. Drew? Why was he always
finding a way into her thoughts? The guy was like a relentless cockroach
sneaking in every forgotten crack. “Besides, Drew said you already have a
girlfriend.”

Bracing his muscled arms on either side
of her head, Robbie chuckled, his hurt expression smoothing. “Is that why
you’ve been so unresponsive? You’re jealous?” He went back in for the kill,
sucking the side of her neck, while his eager hands went back to undressing
her. He took hold of her wrist, pulled her hand down placing it over the slab
of concrete in his jeans.“Feel that? That’s all for you, baby.”

Megan gasped, feeling a chill as her
shirt slid off her shoulders draping down over her upper arms. He was so heavy,
and persistent as he pressed into her. “Robbie… I...Please….” Her hands went to
his thick hair and he moaned as her nails scratched over his scalp.

“bout time you warmed up,” He said
against the soft tissue exposed around the top of her bra. Megan wove his hair
in and out of her fingers, closed her hand into a fist and yanked.

Robbie yelled hunched over following her
hands, which still had a tight grip on his hair. “Damn woman, what’d you do
that for?”

“Because you don’t seem to know when to
stop.”

Someone cleared their throat by the
doorway. Megan glanced up to see Drew leaning against the doorjamb with his arms
folded over his chest watching the entire scene. “You okay?” he asked barely
able to contain his laughter.

Megan released the hair tangled in her
closed fist. “Yes, I’m fine. I’ve got this under control.” She worked
feverishly to button the shirt gaping open.

“I can see that. I was talking to
Robbie. ”

“The bitch pulled out my hair! He raked
a hand through, loose hair clinging to his fingers as evidence.

“Clunk!” Scattered tools hit the open
toolbox. Robbie scooped up his cell from the sawbucks shoved it in the pocket
of his T-shirt. “I’ll come back later for the rest of my shit. I’d like it if
the bitchs not here when I do.” He lifted a huge yellow tool box, his biceps
flexing. A glare was thrown in her as Robbie shoved his way past Drew. He
paused, and tossed a warning over his shoulder, “Watch out. She’s a fucking
psycho.”

Silence.

Megan felt the blood rush to her cheeks.
She stared at the new shower she just
had
to have and the bone colored
tile climbing halfway up its wall, left unfinished and jagged. Boxes of unused
tiles cluttered a corner of the room, stack upon stack.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said.

“What look is that?”

“As if I overreacted.”

He showed her his palms with a light
hearted chuckle. “I think you handled it pretty well, but you
do
realize
you’ve just ran off your only hope of getting this bathroom finished? I was
afraid you might be thinking you could sweet-talk him into coming back. He
looked pretty pissed to me.”

“Yes Drew, I know the consequences of my
actions.” She shook her head as her blue eyes clouded with anger. “Glad to see
you find my situation so amusing.”

The corner of his mouth quirked as he
struggled hard not to laugh, “I’m sorry… it’s just…the sight of you leading
Robbie around by his hair is still fresh in my mind. You’re going to have to
give me a second...”

“Take all the time you need.” Megan
thrust a hand against his shoulder knocking him off balance. He stumbled
backwards a couple of steps providing ample room for her to pass. She leaned in
and glared, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. “You are
an asshole.”

“Don’t get mad. You have to admit it’s funny?” The walls in the
hall shook from the slam of her bedroom door.

Correction, their bedroom.

Oh yes, this was going to be fun, by the time he was done with her
she’d think twice about sleeping in his room—what would it cost him? A black
eye? Claw marks? Or would he suffer the same fate as dear old Robbie?

******

Black
clouds darkened the horizon; the weather man said it was going to be a bad one
with possible hail. There was an explosion of light and a distant rumble.
“Bam.” the screen door slapped its frame caught by the wind. “Bam. Bam.” Rusty
chains creaked. The porch swing swayed back and forth pushed by another cool
gust.

Megan wrapped an arm around a porch post, her eyes closed as she
inhaled the distinct smell of an approaching summer storm. The smell reminded
her of clumps of damp, fresh cut grass clinging to the deck of a lawn mower
right after her father had mowed. There was an electrical current popping in
the air making the hair on her arms stand on end. Then the sky broke, drops
fell hard and sudden beating the ground, the biggest rain drops she’d ever
seen. Her eyes fluttered as the heavy drops found their way up under the porch
forced in by the wind.

Squinting out across the yard, Megan noticed the hunched figure in
a yellow slicker moving towards the barn. “Go find Drew!” Tink yelled.

Behind him, a skittish horse reared, and kicked its front legs in
the down pour. The horse neighed furiously and struggled against one end of the
rope, on the other end Tink cussed the animal. The creature stood to its full
height and snorted.

Powerful.

Determined.

The horse was a slick chestnut color with a mane and tail as dark
as night. He was magnificent, so magnificent she was unable to move much less
breathe. Old banished feelings came rushing back in. Old feelings she thought
she’d buried along with my father.

“FIND DREW!” came again as the horse clamored backwards dragging
Tink’s planted boots through the mud. Lightening forked out over the barn. Her
body jumped. Thunder shook the ground, sending the horse in to another
frightened frenzy; it danced sideways, seconds away from charging forward. Good
grief! The old man was going to be trampled! Was he crazy? She thought of his
drawn hands, and how difficult it must have been for him to grip the rope.