Devil's Despair Box Set: Books 1-3 (38 page)

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Authors: A.C. Bextor

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BOOK: Devil's Despair Box Set: Books 1-3
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Opportunity lost.

“So have you.” Holding her skirt up with one hand, I slide my finger inside her with the other. She’s not as tight as I’d like, but a woman’s body varies in size, shape, and
texture.

The process of fucking is always the same. Foreplay, dirty talk . . . purchase. Tonight, I’ll mix things up before we start since I’m in the mood. “Get on your knees, Casey.”

She turns around in the small space I’ve granted and immediately does what I tell her. Shifting through the buttons on my jeans, she looks up at me with a desire-filled stare. She licks her red lips and my cock jumps in her hand before she takes me in her mouth and sucks hard . . . harder . . . harder. I gasp for breath and brace my hands against the counter behind her.

Women don’t love me. They don’t even like me; they aren’t supposed to. They
use
me. This is my way of returning their sentimental gesture.

“Fuck, that feels good. Take it all,” I gasp, grabbing her hair and forcefully pushing myself into her. She whimpers slightly but doesn’t slow her mouth’s movement.

I bend my head to watch her taking me in and out of her mouth with generous enthusiasm. At this point, I know I’m ready and by the sounds of her moaning against my cock, she is, too.

“Enough,” I clip. “Stand up. Where’s your bed?” I ask, helping her from the floor. It’s the least gentlemanly gesture I can offer before I dirty her bed and leave her alone in it after I’ve finished.

“Follow me.” Her seductive tone is lost on me as I watch her ass sway down the hall.

Once we’re in her room, the practiced chorus continues. Lights stay off, we undress each other quickly, and finally I lay her out on the bed, clearly exposed and ready for me.

Then we fuck.

Her pants are heavy and the sheen of sweat along my back offers proof that this is what I’ve been after since meeting her only hours before. Her nails scrape down my back as she finds her climax from beneath me.

I’m a user, but not an asshole. If I do anything for women, it’s to ensure they get theirs before I greedily take mine.

Working my mouth on her chest, she takes the opportunity to bend to my ear and bite hard, spiraling me into my own release. I go as long as I can until finally I’ve finished.

Rolling off her, I briefly wait for her response. A woman’s reaction varies, obviously depending on the girl. Some offer to help me dress to speed my exit, some ask if I’d like to go again. Others don’t get out of bed, but say goodbye and ask me to lock up on the way out. Those are the one-night women I appreciate.

However, there are those who want to cuddle.
No.
I’m not a sweet and sappy cuddler.

There are some who want to talk.
No.
Once we’ve finished, there’s no need to get to know each other on a personal level. I’ll never see them again.

Casey, though, is what I fear the most.
A galactic mistake.

“What side do you take?” she asks, still panting as she scoots over to find her spot on the bed. She assumes I’m staying the night.

Understanding her intention, I advise with a stern tone that offers a passive dismissal, “I’m not staying tonight, babe. I have to get up early and head to work.”

I lie. I don’t work. My dad’s sickness, since I graduated from college seven years ago, has always caused an interruption in my life. I’ve been asked to pick him up from high-class restaurants, sports bar, and a few times, a woman’s house where he had pissed her off by passing out
before
their fun started. My name in his phone was changed to ‘Hayden’s Cabs’ for quick reference. It’s worked all these years and throughout this time, I’ve been less and less angry in having to play that role. Because of all this, my concentration on my own life has always been cast aside.

“Where do you work?”

Getting off the bed and finding my clothes on the floor, I dismiss her. “Doesn’t matter. I gotta go.”

“You’re one of those,” she tells me. I think to myself quietly that if she had called me an asshole it would’ve felt less offensive.

“And you’re just like me,” I respond, walking out of her bedroom and aiming myself toward the front door.

“Asshole,” I hear her spit before I close it behind me.

I may be that, but I’m also a person who’s trying to find his way just like everyone else.

On the way home, I start to think the same way we all do in the darkness. Sadness, despair, loneliness, and resenting thoughts make their way to the surface, and in my own company, I’ve no way to guard against them. When I was young, I had always thought about what my life would be like at the age I am now. I had envisioned a wife, two kids, and a steady job. Throughout life, things happen and circumstances change a person, making them a shadow of who they once thought they’d be.

I don’t have those same visions anymore. Deep down, I’m a user. Users don’t get families, jobs, and a future with someone who loves them without conditions.

My phone rings beside me and when I check the clock for the first time this evening, I notice it’s only ten. It’s still early.

“Ace, buddy. What’s up?” I fake the same ‘satisfied with my life’ tone I always do in front of my friends. They don’t need to be burdened in knowing how I really feel about my life.

Ace never bothers with a greeting. “Trav’s ready for everyone to meet Lacey.”

“Finally,” I exhale sharply, relieved things with Travis and Lacey are progressing.

Lacey Wells is a little sister Travis didn’t know he had until she showed up at his apartment a couple of weeks ago. From what I understand of what Ace initially told me, is that they share the same mother. Ace was apprehensive in regards to her arrival, as he is with everything until he has further understanding. But once he got more of her story, he agreed, for Travis, to get to know her first before rendering any kind of judgment.

Travis has been holding Lacey apart from the rest of us, except Ace and Rae. Ace got to meet her because Travis needed Raegan’s opinion. The two of them are close, and Ace was only invited by default. He knows this about her and Trav. He doesn’t like it, but he’s learned to accept it.

“Yeah. She’s been here two weeks; I had started to doubt he’d ever let her out of his sight. You know how he is.”

I laugh, “Like you, you mean?”

“Fuck off, dick.”

I give Ace a lot of shit for his ridiculously protective demeanor when it comes to the women in his life. His little sister, Sarah, can’t breathe wrong without being corrected. His girlfriend, Raegan, has it worse. His attempts to tell her where to go, how to get there, and what to wear causes friction between them, but they’ve been together almost two years and it’s working. Ace is happy and because of that, I’m happy for him. I like Raegan because she’s good for him. She and her young son, Decklan, have settled Ace down in a way I never thought I’d witness.

I’m happy
for
him. I wouldn’t ever want to
be
him, though.

“How’s Travis hanging in with all this change?”

Ace answers with hesitance. “He’s okay, I think. He likes her. They get along well, and I think he’s happy he has someone other than us.”

Travis’s mom left him and his dad when he was three. Something happened, something not good, and it caused her to walk away and leave Travis with only his dad to raise him. His father was murdered while pumping gas after work one evening a few years back. Trav and his dad were extremely close and this fueled Trav’s already temperamental anger to epic proportions. In essence, it broke him almost completely.

“Toby and Marlee meeting her, too, I assume?”

“Yeah. Everyone.”

Trav, Ace, Toby, and I have been friends for years. Together we play in a band, Devil’s Despair. It’s just a local gig a couple of nights a week, but we all enjoy it because it gives us time away from the monotony of our day-to-day lives. Travis plays the keyboard and acoustic guitar. Toby plays the drums. I sing and play bass on occasion. Ace manages the group but has a voice that belongs behind a microphone. He refuses to acknowledge or accept this, except on occasion, and usually only through the request of Rae.

“Where’s he having everyone meet her?”

“His place, tomorrow night. Be there about seven or so. He got her an interview for a waitressing job at The Ward. She hasn’t heard back yet, but both Trav and I put in a good word with Mel.”

The Ward is the venue for our band. On occasion, it can be a rough place for anyone, especially the women who work there. Men are often thrown out for grabbing, touching, and pawing the female staff and other patrons.

“Shit. Is that a good idea?” I ask with mild anxiety. I can’t imagine Travis, of all people, allowing someone he cares about to be pawed at and hit on by those hungry men.

“Meet her before you decide. She seems familiar with how bars run and she also seems the type who can hold her own in just about any situation.”

“She hot?” I halt his words. He doesn’t look at women anymore. Ever. It’s annoying.

“I don’t have an opinion on that.”

“Ace, you’re no longer available, but this doesn’t mean you’re immune to the hot ass of a woman. I asked if she was hot. I didn’t ask if you’d fuck her.”

“You’ll like her,” he continues, “but she’s Trav’s sister. Remember that.”

“Got it.” It goes without saying that I’m not what Trav would want for anyone he cared about. That’s how much they think of my unwillingness to commit. My own friends don’t trust me.

There was one instance, fucking years ago, which led my friends to outcast me as the whore I’ve been labeled. Ace was dating a slut, a true whore. Her name was Kenna and one night after a gig, I was left without a distraction when the woman I had planned to be with got herself sick from overdrinking prior to leaving. I ended up sleeping with Kenna and got caught.

I fucked up and I own that, but even though Ace wasn’t serious about her and even though I’ve apologized for this and have done everything I can to win back the respect of my friends, I haven’t. I don’t think I ever will. I’ll always be the man-whore, the player, and the one person in our group who can’t be trusted.

“I hope you do. Now, meet us at Trav’s tomorrow tonight.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good, now go do whatever it is you do at this hour.”

“Already did.” I make a quick return in reference to Casey.

I hear him hiss like a bitch on the other end, but he says nothing before he disconnects.

That’s right, Ace. Be jealous.

CHAPTER THREE

Lacey

“ARE YOU READY for this?” Trav asks me as he finishes dinner and places it in the oven.

I’m about to meet his friends tonight. All of them. Those I’ve met so far have, for the most part, been nice and inviting. The others, though, I’m unsure about.

“I think so. They’re your friends so I won’t be nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be. You’ll be okay.”

“I wish your friend Mel would call back. I’d feel like less of a leech if I had a job.”

Travis pours me another glass of wine and brings it to where I’m sitting at the table. “They’ll call, and if not, there are a lot of places around here looking for extra help.”

Sitting in silence for a few minutes, Travis starts to fidget. “What’s wrong?” I ask with hesitation.

“Do you think our mom knows you’re here?”

“Do you care?”

“No. Not really, but I’d like to think you have someone who would come looking for you.”

Travis doesn’t understand my relationship with her, even after all I’ve told him. “She won’t.”

“I never really knew enough about her, I guess.”

Putting down my glass and looking him in the eye, I aim to make my point clear. “You were lucky she left,” I say without doubt. “She’s not a nice person. I don’t know what she was like when she was married to your dad, but she was never a good mom.”

“I had my dad; I didn’t need her.” The emotion in his eyes is sad and regretful. “He was the best.”

“Tell me about him.”

He thinks for a second before taking another drink of his beer. This is an emotional subject for him and I know this, but want to hear more. “He was always strict growing up. He watched out for my friends as if they were his own. He loved music and made sure I found it early.”

“Did he want you to sing?”

Travis smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nah. He said I belonged in the background. Said I didn’t have the personality for it.”

“You do lack charm,” I admit, and he starts to turn red.

“I don’t like being front and center like my friends. I hate it.”

“So, it sounds like your dad was your best friend.”

“All my life,” he confirms. “Until he lost his.”

“I’m sorry. That had to have been hard on you being so young.”

“It wasn’t easy. I was old enough by then to take care of myself, but things weren’t good for me for a very long time.”

“Are you better now? You like your life, I mean?”

“Yeah, I suppose I do. But I can’t think of many things I wouldn’t give up to have him back. Even if it were for just a day. I miss him so much, even now.”

Offering my support, years later, I try to give him all I can. “You’re not alone anymore. You have me; the unemployed, single, and lonely sister I’m sure you’ve always dreamed of having.”

His head tilts to the side, his voice soft and sure. “I’m glad you found me.”

“Your toe feel the same?”

His face hardens a bit, his hand finds his thigh of the injured foot and squeezes. I hold in a laugh as he talks through his teeth. “That’ll heal.
Eventually.

* * *

Hours later, I’m sitting around Travis’s dining room table after Marlee, Toby, and their young son, Maddux, have left. For whatever reason, their four-year-old son took a liking to me and
literally
stayed seated on my lap the entire night. Between him and Rae’s six-year-old little boy, Decklan, I’m mentally exhausted.

“Kids wear me out. I hope I wasn’t too transparent.”

“You were fine, Lace,” Trav says while pouring me another glass of wine. He smiles as he hands it to me and advises, “Maddux wears everyone out, and Deck doesn’t bother anything or anyone other than Ace and Raegan. So if he paid any attention to you, he liked you.”

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