Branded: You Own Me & The Virgin's Night Out (5 page)

Just as he’d told it so many other times, and it always started out the same way.

I did what I felt I had to do, and while I regret the fact that it was necessary, I have no regrets that I took the actions I did…

And so it went.

He did have to admit that he didn’t think he’d
ever
be explaining himself to a fucking
dating
site. Well. It was a little more than a dating site. It was a social site for those with
tastes outside the mainstream ideal
. That was how they advertised themselves. And why they were probably not totally opposed to having felons on the site.

Fuck knows there were women who’d all but crawled over him when they found out he had a record.

That kind of thing left him cold inside. Although more than once, he’d taken a lady up on it. She wanted what she saw as a risky fuck and he just needed to not be lonely every once in a while. It got
damn
lonely in bed at night, him, his fist, his fantasies.

It was sex, nothing more, nothing less. At least on his side. Whatever they got out of it, he didn’t know. Well, other than orgasms. He could give them that.

If they tried to linger with him, ask questions—
why did you do it, what was it like
—well, that just hurried the end along that much quicker. He didn’t talk about that night unless he had to. And it was a kick in the face that he was doing it with total strangers. Via email, no less.

But every time he thought about the profile he’d seen Selah working on?

Yeah. He had to try.

Because whether Lizzie realized it or not, she was going to have guys crawling all
over
her profile.

The phone rang just as he sent the form off—he thought of it as
I’m a killer, but only under certain circumstances
form. “Really,” he muttered, grabbing the phone. “I’m safe. Trust me.”

Lizzie’s face flashed across the screen and he reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Hey, Lizzie.”

“Deck.” Her voice was…weird.

Slowly, he straightened up in his chair, turning away from the miniscule desk to face the single studio apartment where he’d lived for the past nine months. “What’s up?”

“There—um—well, this is…I don’t know how to say this.”

“You just say it, sugar,” he said, rolling his eyes—amused even as frustration bubbled. Lizzie sometimes seemed like two people trapped inside that sex-bomb body of hers. When she was at work, or when she was in a position where she had to be in charge, she was just that.
In charge
. Capital letters, italics, full out in charge.

But when it came to
her
? Her personal life? What she wanted? What she needed? What made her happy? She went all quiet. Bunnies

could be more demanding than she was.

And it pissed him off, because she hadn’t always been that way.

He knew, all too well, what had caused it.

But he didn’t know how to knock down the wall she’d built around herself. Not without hurting her.

“I’ve got guys talking to me.”

He tensed. “What? Where are you? Are you safe?”

“No…” A nervous giggle escaped her but he barely heard it as the rage bled through, trying to take him over again.

“Not that. Decker, it’s the website.”

Through the pulse of his own blood pounding in his ears, he caught those words. He’d been halfway out the door, but now he paused. “The website.”

“Yeah. Um. On my wall. Some of them are talking to me. I’ve already had three guys ask me out.”

Fucccckkkk…

Dragging a hand down his face, he shut the door and slumped against it. A new kind of rage, the small and mean and petty kind twisted inside him, even as something warm settled in his heart as he understood that odd note he’d heard in her voice. Bemusement. Shocked, puzzled bemusement. “Lizzie, what did you think would happen? You’re gorgeous and you put up pictures where any guy with eyes could see it and you think nobody is going to notice?”

“But I’m not…”

“Stop it. I’m not going to listen to the shit you think you see in the mirror,” he snapped. “You’re beautiful and you always have been. And now somebody other than—”
me
“Needledick Noel is going to be able to appreciate it. Enjoy it. Just…”

He stopped, drove his head back against the door even as he mentally slapped himself. He’d encouraged her to do this. Even if she ended up with somebody
else
, somebody
not
him, it would be better. Maybe she’d just wake up and realize she deserved better and dump Noel and he could try to make a move
then
. But regardless, he’d promised himself he’d see her happy…and loved.

Granted, he’d always planned to be the one loving her, but in the

end, if she was happy, and loved, that was what mattered.

“Just promise me you’ll remember what we talked about, you, me and Selah. First few dates are in public—no going home with anybody the first few times. Okay?”

As she promised him, he shot his computer a look.

Maybe a snowstorm would break out in hell and somebody would give him a chance on the site. Then
he
could be one of the guys flirting with her. She never seemed to notice any time he’d tried in real life but…

Noel’s hands dug into her hips.

He all but ground her into the table and Lizzie clutched at it, tried to center herself even as he drove into her. “Noel—”

One hand left her hip to come up, press her face into the table even as she went to lift it and she closed her eyes—half to escape, half to try and find the pleasure she
should
feel.

With something closer to desperation than she liked, she reached out…latched on.
Pleasure
…she was supposed to feel.

Words rolled through her mind.

Not Noel’s.

She didn’t know who he was.

I can’t sleep at night for thinking about touching you …

As Noel drove into her again, she latched onto the last dirty little story he’d sent her.

I can see you spread out in front of me. You’ll be soft, all over…inside, outside…and wet for me. If you’re not, I’ll lick you until you are.

A soft cry escaped her. Noel made a grunt of approval, not even realizing it wasn’t anything he did.

Do you like to touch yourself? I want to think you do. I put my hand on my cock and think about you. I want to think about you sliding your fingers down your belly, between your thighs and stroking, stroking…

She worked her hips up, driving them back against Noel and heard his pleased mutter, something she pushed away. Eyes closed, she

slid two fingers around her clit, blocking out what was happening in the real world.

Touch yourself. Make your hand wet, slide your fingers in…and out…

She imagined doing that and slowly started to move, finally finding some level of arousal, tightening herself around the cock thrusting inside her.

She’d be embarrassed about it later.

But for now all she could think about was the fact that she felt
wanted
—just not by the man fucking her.

Now imagine it’s not your fingers fucking you. But my cock. I want to be the one moving in you.

Tasting you. Touching. Feeling you come—

She cried out just as Noel stiffened.

And when he pulled away, she remained where she was for a long moment, still shaking through the orgasm.

It was probably the best one she’d ever had. And she really wished
Noel
hadn’t been involved at all.

• • •

Noel came into the bathroom while she was cleaning up.

She ducked her head, not wanting to look at him.

That didn’t stop him from sliding his hands around her to cup her breasts. “I can’t decide if it’s the fact that I haven’t seen you in over a week that made it so good, or the fact that it seemed like it took you a while to warm up,” he murmured, scraping his teeth down her neck. “Which one was it? Because I definitely want to feel you come like that again.”

Neither. I was thinking about another guy
, she thought sourly.

It had been a month since they’d begun this mockery of a relationship—this so-called
open
relationship. And while she was talking casually to a number of guys, she’d only had private conversations with a few of them—and one of them was becoming a nightly star in her dreams.

He was coming into her dreams far more than Noel
ever
had, a fact that unsettled her even more as Noel went to kiss her again. There was a sharp twist in her belly as Noel acknowledged he was aware that she hadn’t really wanted to have sex. Even though she hadn’t said no.

Of course,
none
of this would have happened if Elizabeth hadn’t let Noel inside when he’d knocked. She hadn’t really wanted to see him—and wasn’t that bizarre? She hadn’t wanted to see him, but when he called out her name, she hadn’t been able to ignore him. No wasn’t her strong suit, especially with him, because he made her feel so bad after. She couldn’t ignore him at the door. And when he’d started to slide his hands under her skirt, she hadn’t told him no then, either. Even though she’d turned away from his kisses, even though she’d tugged his hands away from her clothes.

But he’d known—

Stop it
. She didn’t let herself finish the thought and she wouldn’t because it put her in a bad place, where there were bloody things, and screams, and she lost what mattered most.

Thoughts of that had her reaching up to catch Noel’s wrist as he sought out her nipple, tweaking it with more force than she liked. “Noel, I need to clean up and get dressed,” she said, her voice stiff. And she was braced, she realized, already braced for him to be angry.

Why
…

Because she’d said no.

As she shot him a look, she saw that she was right.

Oh, he didn’t
show
it. He kept his face relaxed, a smile on his mouth. But it glinted, right there in his sharp green eyes. “Was I a little too rough with you?”

Yes
. She didn’t let herself say it, though. She was sore, but she’d get over it. It wasn’t the first time he’d been careless. Instead of answering his question, she just shrugged. “It’s not that. I’ve got plans

tonight and I have to get ready. You should probably leave. I don’t want to be late.”

“Plans.” He reached up, rubbed and stroked a finger down his

sideburns. “Are you going out with Selah?”

“No. I’ve got a date.”

She glanced up into the mirror as she said it, checking her hair. Did she need to wash it—

In the mirror, she caught sight of his face. The flash of disbelief, followed by an anger that rolled across his face had a chill racing down her spine.
Caution, caution, caution
—

She eased to the side, turning to give him a smile as she cut around him. A hundred little warnings started to blare in her head.
Don’t let yourself get trapped. Don’t make him angry
—

She silenced them with a mental shake of her head. This was a different time, a different place. A different man.

“A date…so this is through the site, huh?” There was amusement in his voice now. “I hope you’re being careful, sweetheart. A lot of those guys love to play with girls like you. You’re just naïve enough for them to have fun.”

She gave him a narrow look.
Naïve
?

“I’d hate for you to get hurt,” he said, reaching up and cupping her cheek.

She turned away, staying silent.

“If you’re having second thoughts, we can go out instead. You should have a contact for him. Just call, tell him you changed your mind. Or I can handle it—”

“I’m not changing my mind,” she said calmly. “We’re just having drinks. And we’re meeting at Rush. Pixie’s group is playing and Decker and Selah will be around. If it goes bad, I’ll signal one of them.”

The odd, strained silence that fell was little surprise. Noel liked Decker about as much as Decker liked him. They couldn’t stand each other. Noel really didn’t fit in with anybody she cared about. He didn’t fit in anywhere in her life. Sometimes, not even with her.

“You really think relying on an ex-con is the best—”

“
Don’t
.” The fury sprang forward and she whirled on him,

thoughts of caution fading into the background. She strode to him and jabbed her finger into his chest.

Surprise lit his eyes.

“Don’t
ever
talk about him like that,” she said, cutting him off when he went to open his mouth.
Nobody
got to dismiss Decker like that. Nobody. “You don’t know anything about him.”

“I know he has a record.” Noel caught her wrist, squeezing when she tried to jerk away. “Isn’t that enough? What the fuck do you see in that thug? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a thing going for him—I know plenty of women go for the big and tattooed look, but sweetheart, that man isn’t
ever
going to find what he needs from a girl like you, and you know it.”

The sharp little pain in her chest didn’t make sense. Decker was her friend. Her best friend.
That
was what he needed from her, what she needed from him. “You’re wrong,” she said, shaking her head.

This time, she moved into him, just enough, catching him off-guard. His grip loosened and she jerked away. “We’re friends. That’s all we are, all we’ll ever be. But he’s the best friend I’ve ever had and I won’t hear you talk about him that way.”

Backing away, she put herself in the middle of the room. As Noel’s gaze landed on her, she fought the urge to back even farther away. That look…she didn’t like it. It was an ugly sort of look, and then he cocked his head and the look she’d thought she saw was gone.

Still, the uneasiness lingered. “I need to finish getting ready, Noel.”

“Sure.” He gave her an easy smile. “Maybe we can have lunch together, though. Tomorrow.”

“I don’t know…”

He moved in, then, and when he brushed her hair back, cupped her face tenderly, that odd, wistful yearning inside her twisted and sighed. “I miss you. We’re supposed to
date
others…that doesn’t mean we let each other go.” His mouth brushed over hers and the gentleness there seemed to whisper an apology. “Don’t you miss me? At all?”

The awful thing was that she wasn’t sure she did.

This whole thing had been about making him appreciate her

more.

Instead she found herself seeing less and less about him that
she
could appreciate.

Stop it. You love him…don’t you
?

Floundering in a rush of confusion, she forced a smile. “We can try lunch. I’m working, though. Want to meet at La Rosa? Around one?”

• • •

His name was Loren.

Loren was five-ten, a little solid through the middle—the way a football player would have been, she decided. He still looked pretty fit and he looked at her in a way that made her feel like she was completely beautiful.

He called her beautiful, and for a little while, Elizabeth even felt like she was.

It might have been easier to relax if she wasn’t acutely aware of Decker and Selah in a booth between them and the door. All she had to do was send them a look and they’d be over there.

But she was having fun.

Loren was a welder and he also liked to do art in his free time—metal art. He had some pictures up on his profile, which was one of the reasons she’d decided she’d accept his messages. He hadn’t just posted dick pictures. Actually, he hadn’t posted any dick pictures.

None of the “connections” she’d accepted had dick pictures posted. If a guy was going to just put it all out there like that…well, no. Not what she was looking for.

“A coffee shop. So what got you interested in that?”

Looking in Loren’s eyes, she smiled. He had great eyes. The darkest, most amazing brown. “Would you believe a serious caffeine addiction? This way, I can be around it, drink it to my heart’s content…I can go to other coffee shops and drink it and call it
researching the competition
…” She grinned at him.

He chuckled. “You sound like me and my wine fixation. I

homebrew and I’ll go out of my way to hit a winery when I see one.”

He buffed his nails. “I gotta see how others are doing it, right?” Then

he winked at her.

“Oh. Absolutely.” She nodded to Pixie up on the stage and said,

“You ought to hear Pixie talking wine. She can wax on for hours. I barely know the difference between Pinot Noir and Pinot Blanc…except…well. I hate both.”

Loren arched his brows.

“Sorry.” She winced. “I like wine, it’s just the dry stuff…” She shuddered.

A low, easy laugh rolled out of him and he leaned forward, his biceps brushing against her arm. “That’s okay, beautiful. Besides, I’m not much for a Pinot Blanc myself. I won’t turn down a good Pinot Noir every now and then, but it’s not one of my favorites, either.”

He was easy to talk to. Why was it easy with him and yet, she fumbled for words with Noel and so many other guys, she wondered? Not
all
of them, but too many. Sitting around here, chatting with Loren wasn’t quite the same as it was with Decker, but then again…
nobody
was Decker.

“Want to dance?”

Jerking her mind away from it, she swallowed and slid a look out to the floor.

“It’s cool if you don’t.”

She looked back at him, saw by the look in his eyes he absolutely meant it.

“Yeah. I’d like to dance,” she said, more nervous by the idea than she liked. But if she was really going to try this
dating
thing, didn’t that include things like dancing?