Twisted Minds (9 page)

Finally, she let out a weary sigh, rubbing the side of her head as though it was in pain. “Nate, I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

And surprisingly, the little firecracker I had grown familiar with, turned around in defeat and retreated into her room. There were a few silent seconds where I considered following her, but she would probably lose her mind if I did something so brazen.

Then again, it would be much nicer than the tepid reception she’d just given me. Still confused by her behavior, I wandered back into my room, not quite sure if I’d broken her spirits or if she really was just tired.

Ten

The Best Wingman

There wasn’t a lot to do in Ripley as far as I could tell.

Not that I did a whole lot in New York City besides get drunk and fuck women.

This became clear a couple of days later when Finn decided to take me to the local bar,
The Place
, on a Friday night. Apparently, this was the place to be on the weekends.

It was pretty average as far as bars went. It was a decent-sized space with the bar located in the center of the room like an island, with people lapping around it like waves. There was some tacky décor—old pictures of people hanging on the walls, mounted moose heads, and a jukebox placed in the corner, but nothing that blew me away.

The bar was overflowing though. It looked like there were a hundred people squeezed into a small space. Everyone knew everyone else, and the first thirty minutes were spent running into old friends of Finn’s who didn’t know he was back in town for the summer.

When Finn introduced me, I got looked over twice as though they didn’t expect a guy like me to be in there. Compared to everyone’s casual attire of blue jeans and a t-shirt, I was wearing khaki pants and a rolled up button up shirt, and looked like I belonged in an upper class bar. Which I kind of did.

I hadn’t tried any different to fit in because there wasn’t anything wrong with the way I dressed. Now, if some gawking asshole wanted to argue with me about it, I was more than ready to take up their offer.

Finn and I swept through the bar like a pair of seasoned pros. We’d done this plenty of times in the city, with a high success rate. He was a pretty good wingman, but tonight I was going to make sure that I found at least one relatively attractive woman for him to go home with.

But the choices were pretty limited, despite the bar being packed to full capacity.

Most of the women were wearing jeans, and I could tell they had tried to look their best, but their outfits weren’t the sleek, sexy clothes the city girls wore. There was nothing wrong with the right pair of jeans on a woman, but none of these women managed to pull off the look.

I nodded at Jackson, who was standing in a corner by himself looking pretty fucking happy. His hair seemed to get messier every time I saw him.

“Is that guy always high?” I asked Finn.

“What else is there to do here?” He didn’t even bother turning to see who I was referring to. It was pretty fucking obvious.

My gaze continued to roam the teeming room, and I realized Kira wasn’t here. Finn had said she would be making an appearance tonight—with her fake I.D—but I couldn’t see her anywhere. Unfortunately, that Greg guy was also nowhere to be seen—though I did catch sight of his friends from the beach talking to a bunch of girls—and I bitterly wondered if they were together. I was hoping she’d opted to stay home and read books about Postwar Europe.

Finally, my eyes landed on a group of women who seemed to have opted for dresses and denim shorts instead of the default jeans. This was what I was talking about. Women who dressed to impress were usually looking to hook up.

We slowed at the bar, and Finn was in the process of waving the bartender over when I nudged him with an elbow. “Them.”

Finn followed my gaze and whistled a low breath. “You sure know how to pick ‘em. Those girls are an easy score.”

“You know them?” I asked, analyzing each one as though they were a crime scene.

“Yeah, the two in the tiny dresses were in the same grade as me in high school, and I’m pretty sure the other three just graduated with Kira.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “If you couldn’t tell from the way they’re dressed, they love a little attention.”

Finn’s mention of Kira, made me dwell on where she was. If he even knew the thoughts that ran through my head about her, I would get my ass beat.

“What can I get ya?” The bartender yelled at Finn over the noise.

He was an older guy, maybe in his late thirties, with a scruff of beard and eyes underlined with bags. It was clear he’d seen better days.

“I’ll get a rum and coke.” That was for him. “And a Crown and Sprite for rich boy. Make those doubles.”

The bartender nodded and went off to make our drinks. We leaned against the bar, surveying the people around us. There was a whole heck of noise going on and some kind of country song was playing that everyone except me knew the words to.

Even Finn was nodding his head in time to the beat. I raised a brow at him, to which he made a face as though I was an ass. Which I was.

“Hey, it’s better than that techno crap they play in the city clubs,” he pointed out, now tapping his foot along to the music.

“That’s debatable.” I was a little worried he would break out in a jig or something equally as weird.

“You’re such a dick,” he said with a laugh, just as the bartender returned with our drinks.

“
Rich
dick,” I corrected. Before Finn could make a move to reach for his wallet, I smoothly handed my card across the bar. “You can start a tab under that name.”

The bartender nodded in response as he took my card and walked away with it to the register. Finn gave me a look as though I shouldn’t have paid for the drinks, but I ignored it.

“Hi, Finn.” The voice was low, sultry, but loud enough for my ears to pick up on it.

Fighting my natural gag reflex at the sound of Cass’ voice, I tried my hardest not to turn around, but my curiosity got the better of me because I could see Finn’s eyes grow.

Turning my head ever so slightly in her direction, I saw that she was wearing a tight-fitted top with her midriff showing. She pulled off the look easily, but that didn’t mean I was going to admit that she looked half decent. This was Cass, after all.

The skirt she had on was made from some leathery material that made me wonder if she could breathe at all, and how she had managed to squeeze into something so tight. Her auburn hair was swept up, showing off the broken heart tattoo on her shoulder. It seemed so appropriate for her, considering she was a cum-sucking whore.

“Wow,” Finn breathed, taking a big gulp of his rum and coke.

Resisting the urge to kick him in the balls, I promised myself I would have to expand his vocabulary when it came to Cass. Fucking Cass, reeling him in again.

“Thanks.” There was a smug look on her face, as though she knew she was the hottest thing in this bar. And, fuck it, even I knew she was.

“Can I get you a drink?” Finn asked her, noticing she had an empty glass in her hand.

Knowing Cass, she had probably dumped the contents of the glass before approaching Finn so that he’d be prompted into buying her a drink.

“Oh, thank you, Griffin. That’s so nice of you.”

“The usual?” he asked like a moron.

Cass nodded, fluttering her stupid, fake lashes at him.

“You are so obvious,” I said the second Finn turned his back on us.

“We have that in common,” she replied without missing a beat. “How was your night at home while Greg took Kira out and made the moves on her?”

There was no way she could’ve known if Greg had made moves on Kira, unless Kira had personally told her. I was going to assume she was only saying all this to get on my nerves.

“Probably a lot better than your night spent at home casting spells on your voodoo doll of Finn.”

A tinkling laugh escaped her mouth. “Oh, Nate, I don’t need to cast spells to get Finn back. He’s head over heels in love with me.”

“I can’t imagine why.” I looked her up and down in disdain. “Especially after what you did.”

A smile spread across her overdone face. “Maybe it’s because I used the magic of doubt instead.”

The magic of doubt? Was she trying to brainwash Finn into believing a different set of events had taken place?

I leaned into her. “You little bi-”

“Here you go.” Finn’s voice broke into the midst of our conversation.

He’d returned with a cranberry and vodka for Cass, and my card, which I hastily slipped into my wallet, wanting to be as far away from Psycho Bitch as humanly possible. Finn had made his choice, but I wasn’t going to stick around longer than I had to. I really hoped he was smart enough not to believe whatever poisonous lies she was spouting to twist his mind.

“As lovely as this encounter has been, I have better things to do. You know where to find me whenever you’re done eye fucking the She Devil,” I announced to Finn, who shook his head exasperatedly at me.

Cass gave me a look that could’ve made my balls shrivel up. Flashing her a bright smile, I weaved through the crowd of people, sipping my drink as I approached the group of girls Finn and I had been watching earlier.

They were standing against the back wall in a loose semi-circle, sipping expectantly on their drinks as their eyes wandered the bar. That was a good sign. The unorganized semi-circle was an invitation.

A lot of men came across as complete douchebags by approaching women in an entirely enclosed circle. Those women rarely ever left the bar with a man—maybe they had one slutty friend who hooked up with someone that night, but mainly they were there for a “girls’ night”.

I immediately ruled out two of the girls who had their backs to me. No interest as to what was going on outside of their circle. The other three girls immediately caught sight of me, their eyes widening a little. I immediately ruled out another two—they just weren’t my type.

The one with short, blonde hair was wearing a tiny denim skirt and a boob tube. She was almost done with her drink, and was making eyes at me as though she wanted to lick my skin off.

There it was—my in.

“Need a refill,” I said, looking her up and down.

She was tall, her legs were long and lean but toned. There was an unnecessary amount of gold eyeshadow on her lids, and her lips were too bright pink, like bubblegum, but there weren’t many other options for me.

It was bad makeup girl, or nothing.

“If you’re paying,” she said with a toothy smile that she probably thought was seductive.

It wasn’t.

And, as for women who expected men to always pay for their drinks, well, get the hell over it. It was the 21st century—pay for your own damn drinks.

Still, I knew how to play the game. Buy her a few drinks and you were in.

Finn was a pretty good wingman, but it was alcohol that was a man’s greatest asset. Alcohol was usually the only wingman you needed.

“No,” I said with small laugh, shaking my head. “
I
need a refill.” Pausing, I chugged my drink in a few short seconds until there were only cubes of ice left in the glass.

The blonde gaped at me, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Starting the conversation off with something unusual, something they didn’t expect, always caught their attention.

“Excuse me!” she cried, her face turning red. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Nathaniel James,” I said smoothly, extending a hand. “Wealthy, NYC asshole. I’m about to fuck you in the backseat of my car.”

The blonde glared down at my hand as though it was infected with herpes. “Not in a million years.”

She was about to eat her own words.

Eleven

Breaking Rules

Thirty minutes later, I was doing the blonde from behind in the backseat of my car, just as I had predicted.

She was splayed out on her stomach, pressing her hands below the window to brace herself against as she enjoyed every second of what I was giving her.

I had to admit, I was enjoying it, too. I hadn’t fucked a woman in well over a week, and considering the way Kira had been getting me horny since I’d gotten here, I was long overdue to release some of that sexual tension that had been building up.

Kira had never shown up. Fuck her. I wasn’t going to think about her as I banged the shit out of this girl. I was going to enjoy it for what it was—quick and easy sex.

It had taken a few minutes for me to work my magic on the blonde. That, and a few drinks, and she was eating out of the palm of my hand. Actually, she’d been eating my dick a few minutes ago, but we didn’t need to get into the details.

She hadn’t been that great at it, and had tried to sloppily kiss me with her dick mouth—yes, it had been my dick in her mouth, but I didn’t want to taste it—so I’d moved along to the sex as quick as I could.

Kissing was too intimate and shouldn’t have to be a prerequisite when having sex.

Anyway, girls like the blonde were easy. So easy that it was almost cheating. I’d forgotten her name, but it didn’t really matter at this point—‘baby’ and ‘beautiful’ were perfectly fine substitutions.

“These seats…are so…nice, ohhhh.” Her moan grew as I pushed deeper into her.

“Italian leather,” I responded without missing a beat.

“Do you want to try a different position?” she asked breathlessly, lifting her head a little so I could see her uninteresting profile.

Fuck, no. I didn’t want to stare at her subpar face.

“No, stay right where you are,” I said, pushing her head back down quickly. “You’re perfect just like that.”

“Okay.” She didn’t argue with me as I began to push in and out of her harder. Her moans grew into screams, and she began to push back into me, which I admit felt pretty good.

A lot of the time, girls just lay there, dead and lifeless, and expected me to do all the work. Those girls never heard from me again. Okay, so most girls never heard from me again, but the ones who actually put some effort into the fucking had a better chance of hearing from me.

Then I felt it—the incredible rush that built up within me, letting me know that I was close to cumming. Pounding her a little harder—and feeling her juices running down her inner thighs and onto me—I began to groan.

“It’s happening, baby.” Shit, what was her name? “I’m cumming.”

“Oh, God!” she cried at the same time.

And then all at once, I was done. The feeling passed, and I pulled out of her, slumping against the seat. I’d have to get them cleaned since she’d dripped all over them, like I did after I was done with the rest of them.

“That was incredible,” she gasped, turning around and moving into a sitting position so she could look at me.

Some women looked even hotter with sweat dripping down their face—this woman did not.

Not bothering to respond, I leaned over the front seat and popped open the glovebox. Inside were mini plastic bags, condoms, lube, and wipes that I was always replenishing. When you fucked a lot of women in your car, you learned to carry aftermath supplies.

Tossing the girl a wipe, I pulled the condom off and tossed it into a plastic bag and then cleaned myself up. The girl leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek.

My first reaction was to recoil from her. “Uh, I’m not into the whole kissing thing. Just a personal preference.”

“Oh, okay.” There was hurt in her eyes. “Do you want to hold me?”

“Not really.” I didn’t
hold
people.

“Well, what
do
you want to do?” She sounded annoyed now as she pulled her clothes back on.

I nodded at the door behind her. “Well, you can go back into the bar and I’ll meet you in there in a few minutes.” It was the nicest way I could think of to ask her to get the hell out of my car.

“Fine,” she said with a pout, opening up the door.

As she climbed out, I adjusted my clothes, grateful that she hadn’t put up too much of a fight. Some girls freaked out when I didn’t snuggle with them afterwards. Snuggling, really? Did I look like a person who wanted to fucking snuggle?

“Do you want my number?”

Oh, God, she was still standing outside the car, holding the door open. There was a hopeful expression on her face that almost made me pity her. Almost.

“I’ll get it inside.”

“Okay, sure,” she said with a nod, her face brightening.

I watched her stumble back into the bar, barely stable in her too high heels. Easy, drunk sex—we had all been there at some point in our lives. I had just been there more than others.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the fine leather seat. She was right, though—these seats were nice.

I was satisfied for now, but I knew this feeling wouldn’t last long. Not when the only thing that could satiate this need coursing through me was the one girl who was resistant to my charms.

Kira.

Shit, I wanted to run my tongue over her hot, little body. I wanted to rip her lacy panties off with my teeth. I wanted to make her gasp and moan, just like the blonde had.

There was an urgent tapping on the window, and I groaned. Great. The blonde had come back, probably desperate for any type of attention from me.

Opening my eyes, I turned my head to the right. My mind went blank.

It was Kira, with a look on her face that could ruin hell. Kira—she had been the last person I’d expected to see, especially right after I’d just banged the shit out of some random girl.

Pulling my scattering self together, I opened the door and stepped out of the car to face her. I’d seen her mad at me plenty of times since I’d gotten here, but tonight she was livid. Despite her anger, I took a moment to appreciate how incredibly hot she looked.

Her lips were deepest red; she was wearing a bustier top that was the same shade as her lipstick, which was cinched at the waist and designed so that a third of her boobs was bursting from the top.

The jeans she had on were low-cut so that a portion of her toned stomach was visible. And they were tight as hell, so tight that I was pretty sure her ass probably looked incredible from the back.

However, the expression on her face didn’t match the way she looked—it was venomous, and something about it made me falter for a few seconds. From her angry demeanor, I suspected she had seen me screwing the blonde girl.

“You disgust me,” she spat, her eyes cutting into me like razors.

Suspicions confirmed. There was nothing to do but go along with the truth. With as much confidence as I could muster, I gave her an innocent smile.

“Whatever do you mean?” I asked, keeping my tone light.

“You know what I’m talking about!” She gestured towards my car, hands flying wildly. “You and
Candy
!”

Candy—now I recalled the name the blonde had slurred to me in the bar as she’d sidled up to me. From the way, Kira had said her name, it seemed as though she wasn’t a fan of Candy.

“Oh, that,” I said casually, trying to appear unfazed by the anger radiating from her body. “Were you watching me fuck her brains out? That’s kinda kinky of you.”

Kira’s face turned bright pink, and she looked like she wanted to punch me in the face. Which wasn’t unusual. A lot of women wanted to punch me in the face.

“That’s not what I was doing!” she spluttered, taking an angry step towards me.

“Are you sure?” I cocked a brow, standing my ground. “Because I’d completely understand if you enjoyed watching.” A smirk slid onto my lips. “In fact, I bet you couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like if you were in her position.”

Her face was red now as she swelled with rage by the second. “That was the last thing I was thinking!”

Trying to stifle a laugh, I pushed off the car and filled the gap between us. Her lips were quivering from the anger she was trying to contain, and her blue eyes were on fire.

“Did it make you horny watching us? Did it make you wet?”

She jabbed me rather sharply in the chest. “You’re a self-centered, egotistical jerk!”

“I’ve heard worse.” I laughed off her slew of insults, loving the way her skin was flushing and her eyes were glowing. “Where’s your buddy, Greg? Did you just get done sucking him off?”

Harsh, I know. I regretted it immediately.

“How dare you!”

Her eyes flashed in anger, and she raised her hand, ready to strike me across the face. But I was prepared. I saw it coming. Before her hand could make contact with my face, I grabbed it mid-slap.

“Nice try.” My tone was teasing as I brought my head closer to hers, studying every imperfection on her face.

The freckles, the slightly sunburnt skin—somehow, it all made her perfect.

This woman was beautiful, and when she was enraged, she became even more attractive. This was the woman I had expected to see after her date with Greg, not the lifeless one I’d encountered.

Her eyes narrowed until the blue was barely visible. “You’re an assho-”

My body was uncontrollably drawn to her, a heat pooling around my chest, wanting to stop her from finishing the word.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I grabbed the back of Kira’s head with my other hand, entangling my fingers in her thick hair, and pressed my lips against hers to shut her up.

My mouth sought hers, hungry and eager to taste her. I pulled her closer, grinding into her. A moan escaped her mouth, inciting me further. The heat in my chest was seeping into her, and she was melting against me.

And I—I was kissing her. Only to shut her up, not because I wanted to. Definitely not because this small moment of intimacy was something I was beginning to enjoy.

Kira’s raised hand fell feebly to the side as she pressed her lips to mine, as though something intangible had seized her. The heat radiating from her lithe body, her soft moans, the smell of sugar and honey on her was arousing.

My fingers dug into her waist, moving downwards, gently exploring the generous hump of her ass. But it didn’t feel like it was enough. There had to be some way for me to be even closer to her.

Before I could figure it out, Kira suddenly pulled away from me; the red from her lips was smeared across her face, which was also reddening. She stumbled backwards, shaking her head as though she couldn’t believe what had happened.

“No, I-I can’t.”

She turned to escape me, but my hand latched onto her arm. Some miserable, forsaken part of me didn’t want her to leave.

“Kira, wait.”

My head was spinning in circles—it was the feeling of being drunk without any liquor involved.  It was beyond me why I’d even kissed her in the first place. It wasn’t something I ever did, not like this. I wasn’t even sure why I was still holding onto her arm, wanting her to stay.

I was breaking my own rules.

Kira faced me, her eyes glistening, her makeup a little less perfect than it had been before the kiss. The lines of her face churned with unfathomable emotions—confusion, lust, uncertainty, and something else.

“I can’t do this right now,” she said, and I heard the break in her voice. I was shocked to find she was on the edge of tears. “This isn’t, it’s not how I wanted this night to go. First him, now you.”

First him, now you.

“Who are you talking about?” I brought my head close to hers, really searching her face. “What happened, Kira?”

“No, it doesn’t matter.” She shook her head, but now I could see the other emotion clear on her face: fear mingled with shame. “Just let me go, Nate.”

But the alcohol mixed with Kira’s intoxicating kiss was spurring me to find out what was wrong with her. My hands grasped her shoulders, my voice firm as I looked into her liquid blue eyes.

“It does matter.” Each note of my voice was filled with a sincerity that was unusual for me. “It matters to me.”

Her mask cracked, and a few small tears escaped their prison. “Greg.”

My chest squeezed at the mention of his name as I brushed away the tears, waiting for her to continue.

“I don’t even know why I’m upset about it.” There was that shame again, filtering delicately into her features. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have gone out with him when I wasn’t interested in him.”

Alarm pounded against my chest. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.” Kira bowed her head. “He just got mad and a little aggressive. He grabbed me and told me I was a whore for leading him on.” She held out her arms and I could see some redness around her wrists.

My stomach turned. A sudden urge to hurt the guy who had done this surfaced inside of me. “Where is he?”

“What?” Kira seemed startled by my question, and she appeared more like herself again.