Conflicted Love (Needle's Kiss) (12 page)

In retrospect, the entire thing could have been avoided if I hadn’t insisted and pushed him to bring a date. It was a stupid thing to do, but I needed to distance myself from him before he hurt me further. Before I hurt myself. It was time to call it quits with Trip. If I could pull back and keep my feelings to myself, I might be able to survive this. I hated that I was turning into a drama queen, and not all of it could be blamed on raging hormones. No. A big part of it could be blamed on my feelings for him. The feelings I had been trying to ignore, which were blowing up in my face. The alternative was even worse. Fall in love with him and have him go back to his playboy ways, or worse still, have me fall into a pit of postpartum depression and end up just like my mother only to have Trip leave…just like my father did.

Nope. It was time to pull up my big girl panties, zip up my boots and kick my own ass into gear. First, though, I needed to cry. And that’s exactly what I did. I sat in the bottom of his shower and cried my heart out, letting it all go. 

Only after I stepped out of the shower with red-rimmed eyes, I irrationally decided what the next step was. I reached into the cabinet and pulled out the box of hair dye I’d found when I unpacked all my toiletries. Trip was attracted to blonde bimbo types; well, this chick wasn’t about to be appealing to him anymore.

Teeny

Stomping down the steps to his ridiculous penis extension truck, I grabbed my coat and purse slamming the door on the way out of the house.

“Freakin’ ass,” I muttered while roughly shoving the key into the lock and climbing inside the monstrosity.

Finally, I fell asleep after a gruelling day of sickness, back ache and irritation, only to be rudely awakened by my phone ringing. I answered to a rambling Trip going on about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Tinkerbelle and a cucumber.

“I should just leave his ass there,” I grumbled pulling out of the driveway.

Not ten minutes later, I pulled up at the address I was given and parked on the curb. Music and rowdy voices floated from the windows as I made my way up the path to the run-down house. The door wide open. I walked in and started scanning the room for Trip. Anyone would think they’d stepped back in time to a high school party the way these idiots were carousing. Girls in guys’ laps, people making out in the corners, red cups spread around the tables and a group of people playing beer pong and smoking what smelt like pot.

Stepping over a body on the floor, I moved through the crowd making it to the kitchen before I spotted Trip.

“Oh, fuck off!” I said to no one in particular.

My temper instantly flared. He sat on a bar stool with skanks falling all over him. Not even a joke. Four trashy-looking bitches were virtually climbing onto his lap running their hands over his chest and shoulders. They were grinding up against his leg like dogs in heat to the pounding music. He simply sat there, not stopping them, not looking like he cared one way or the other that they were rubbing their dirty STD-infested cracks all over him.

I stormed over to him grabbing a handful of badly dyed red hair attached to the closest skank. She let out a squeak of protest when I pulled her out of my way. Trip’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. “You called me out here at 3 am to what? Take you for a chlamydia test?” I snarled at him more than a little tired and way the hell pissed at having to drive over just to see this kind of shit. If I was being honest, it stung a little to witness his antics. I should have known he wouldn’t change.

“Princess, wait!” Trip called out as I turned away and stormed out of the house. Screw him. He could find another way home. I made it as far as the mailbox before a large hand clamped down on my arm. “Get off me, Trip!” I yelled turning my head only to find it wasn’t Trip at all but some wasted man with a creepy predatory smile towering over me. My stomach lurched at the strong smell of tequila and puke on his breath. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and an eerie feeling washed over me. My hand instantly came up to my stomach in a protective motion. There was something wrong with this guy. The pupils of his eyes were dilated and a light sheen of sweat covered his face.

“Where you off to in such a hurry, lady?” he slurred in my face. I gagged at the intensity of the putrid spittle he was covering my face with.

“You should probably let me go. Now.” I looked pointedly at his grip on my arm. This guy was off his rocker and I was alone in the dark and pregnant.

“I like ‘em feisty. Let’s—” His words were cut short. Before I could blink, he was on the ground, a very pissed off Trip pummeling his fists into the guy’s face. I stood staring as it happened in slow motion. I wasn’t about to stop him. First of all, I was pregnant and a fight was no place for baby bump, and secondly, the dude needed to learn a lesson. There might have also been the fact that it was almost chivalrous of Trip to ditch his tarts and defend me. Trip reared his arm back and landed it on creeper’s nose with a sickening crunch.

"Get off of him! He's already out! Stop!" A huge muscle-bound guy grabbed Trip and dragged him off the unconscious moron. Puffing and panting, Trip ground out “Get the fuck off me. I’m done.” Shrugging off his captor, he stalked toward me, shirt ripped and sweaty. Blood dripping from his eyebrow.

Trip stopped right in front of me, still fuming. He looked me up and down running his hands over me where he could, and then wrapped his arms around me, crushing me firmly against him. “You okay? He hurt you?” I smacked him away remembering the skanks that he was letting touch him. My anger swelled. I was way the fuck pissed off for a bucket load of reasons. None of which I was going to address with a bunch of partygoers looking on.

“I’m fine. Get your stupid ass in the truck. I’m leaving,” I snapped stomping to where I’d parked. Trip followed behind me and jumped up into the passenger’s seat. He’d barely closed his door when I took off from the curb with a slight squeal of the tires.

Slamming the truck into park, I climbed down and stormed up to the house. The entire ride home had been silent. I’d kept my focus on the road and Trip had sat stiff as a board beside me, not uttering a word, and barely moving a muscle except to clean the blood from his knuckles and face with the baby wipes I had stashed in the glove compartment. I made quick work of letting us inside and headed for my room. I wasn’t in the mood to hash shit out with his royal assholeness. The thumping of boots on the stairs behind me alerted me to the fact Trip was behind me. I got as far as the bathroom door when he spoke, “You’re not talkin’ to me now?”

“No.” Plain, simple. My give–a-fuck button was broken, and would be for at least six more hours.

“What the fuck’s your problem?” he snapped. “Why you gotta be all
queen bitch?
Every fuckin’ time you get pissed it falls on me.”

“Excuse me?” My body stiffened. Mad was an understatement. I was about to blow my top. “How fucking dare you!” I spun around and glared at him.

“Me? You go around actin’ like I’ve done some horrible fuckin’ thing to you, and half the time I have no damn clue what’s up your ass!”

“You have to be the stupidest motherfucker I’ve ever met! Calling me out at a ridiculous time of the night to come get your drunk ass. I get my very tired self out of bed and do just that so you can be a prick. Go back to your tramps, Trip. I’ve had e-fucking-nough of this crap.” I poked at his half-exposed chest. “You called me to a fuck-fest party with dirty creeps!”

His eyes flared and he took a step forward getting into my personal space “They weren’t my anything. I called you to see if you’d come and you did.”

“You what?”
Oh, hell no!
“My back hurts. My feet hurt. I’m damn near exhausted and you were what? Trying to prove I’d run around after you?” I yelled.

“I was proving a point. You keep telling me you don’t give two shits about me, yet here you are. Coming to my rescue at the drop of a hat,” he smirked and I had to fight off the intense urge to slap his perfect face.

“Oh, screw you, asshole. You think you have it all figured out, don’t you?” I yelled louder.

“You want me, Princess, and you just can’t help it.” The corner of his mouth tipped up as he continued, “You came in and saw those bitches all over me and you couldn’t help it. You. Were. Jealous.” He took a step forward with every word backing me up against the wall.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was disgusted. Not jealous,” I sneered in his face.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth taking the twin piercings with it. “Princess, you want this as much as I do.” One more step forward, one hand moved to the wall beside me the other to my hip as he pulled himself against my body. “Don’t think I don’t know why you colored your hair either. You look fucking hot as a brunette. And it didn’t turn me off in the least. Your plan failed.” He leaned his face forward slightly with a twinkle in his eye daring me to deny why I’d done it, daring me to call him out on why he hadn’t mentioned it earlier. “Quit fighting it.”

“I hate you,” I threw out with very little venom and no real truth behind it. “Stop smiling.” I pushed at his chest, but he didn’t move an inch.

Studying my face for only a second, he slammed his mouth down on mine and kissed me hard; the metal in his lip pressed into mine and his hard length pressed to my stomach twitched beneath his jeans. A gasp left my mouth allowing his tongue to dive in.

My hormones went crazy. My brain short-circuited, and before I knew it, I was tearing the last shreds of his shirt from his body and throwing it to the floor. Trip growled against my mouth, reached down, gripped my ass and lifted me off the ground. My legs instantly wrapped around his waist. He stalked off toward his bedroom tearing a moan from me as the pressure of his hard-on rubbed against my clit and shot sparks off though my body.

“Hope to hell you’re ready, Princess.” He dropped me down on the bed pushing my skirt up and tearing my lacey boy-shorts off in one quick movement.

My already hard nipples pulled tight against my soft shirt, and before I knew it, his mouth was on me. “Holy shit!” I cried out at the intense feeling of his tongue and the tiny metal ball in it flicking just right on my clit. “Ohhhhh, yes, fuck yes!” I screamed as he pushed two thick fingers in fast and deep. I fisted the sheets and held on tight.

Before I could take another breath, he bit down gently on my clit, sucked it into his mouth sending me careening into an orgasm that had me shaking and screaming at the top of my lungs. “Holy shit, Trip! Don’t stop!” He pumped his fingers harder and faster, nibbling, licking and sucking until I was a boneless panting mess.

“Taste as good as I remember.” I watched as his licked his fingers clean while pumping his rock hard cock in his other hand. Licking my lips, I was almost drooling at the sight of him with his pants undone and hanging off his hips. The silver bar that ran through the top of his angry-looking dick made my pussy twitch just remembering how good that was going to feel.

Trip leaned forward so I was lying on the bed before he grabbed both my ankles pulling me forward. Hooking his arms under my knees, he slammed home. My long moan matched his deep throaty groan as he gripped my hips hard, pulled back and drove in balls deep again. Picking up a brutal pace, he smashed into me his pelvis hitting against my clit with every punishing movement of his hips.

“God, oh God,” I whimpered digging my nails into his muscled ass. His answering growl was all it took for me to let go again. My body tightened up, the waves crashing over me like nothing I’d ever felt before.

“Gotta come in you, Princess. Gotta come hard.” His cock twitched, and with another hard and fast pump, he threw his head back and shouted his release. I loosened my grip on him and the post orgasm fog started to slowly lift.

Leaning over the top of me with his arms bracing his weight, the moment and its seriousness started to sink in. What did we just do? How could I have let this happen? Again.

Because you’re in love with him, you idiot.

Oh, this is a bad idea. A very bad idea.