Read How Hard Can It Be? Online

Authors: Robyn Peterman

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

How Hard Can It Be? (20 page)

BOOK: How Hard Can It Be?
Tears were streaming from my eyes as he took my sex into his mouth and sucked.
“So fucking hot,” he muttered before he pushed his tongue up inside me, while his fingers mercilessly teased my clit.
Right before I had another big O, he stopped. He slid back up my body, placing a heavy thigh between my legs, ensuring I stayed open for him.
He needn’t have bothered with the thigh. I could barely move and I would have happily given him anything he wanted. I was wrecked, and we hadn’t even done it yet. He stared down at me and I forgot how to breathe. He very gently traced my lips with his finger.
“I’m falling for you,” he said.
“Me, too,” I whispered.
His smile made my heart skip beats. “I want to hear you scream again, Rena.” The finger that had traced my lip moved to my breast. “I’m going to fuck you now until we both come apart.”
Holy God Almighty, my body was no longer tired. No one had spoken to me like that. Ever . . . and I loved it. Excitement blasted through me and I could feel the hard evidence of his need pressed against my hip. He got up and grabbed a condom from his jeans. His naked back was as beautiful as his front, but . . .
“Um, Jack, what is that?” I asked, pointing to the large giraffe that covered a good portion of his back.
“What’s what?” he asked, tearing the wrapper off the condom.
“On your back. Turn around.” I sat up.
Jack froze. I watched as he racked his brain for an acceptable reason he had a humongous giraffe on his back . . . I couldn’t think of one and apparently neither could he.
“It was a long time ago. I was drunk,” he said, crawling back onto the bed and attempting to kiss me into forgetting he had a giraffe on his back. He clearly didn’t know me as well as he thought he did. A large ink giraffe was not something I could let go of.
“Do you like giraffes?” I asked, trying to turn him over to get a better look.
“Goddamnit, Rena, you’re killing the mood here.”
“I’m not killing it,” I giggled. “Your avoidance of the giraffe is.”
“Okay—” He blew out a long exasperated sigh. “I lost a bet in college. I had a choice between a giraffe and Jay Leno. I chose the giraffe. End of story.”
I bit my lip hard as I imagined a huge Jay Leno tattooed across his back. “I’m glad you picked the giraffe,” I mumbled, praying the Inappropriate Laughing Monster would not rear her ugly head and completely ruin the evening.
“Can we just fuck?” he asked, clearly expecting more giraffe questions from me.
I decided to surprise him. “Yep, let’s fuck.” I grinned. I’d get back to the giraffe another time. Soon.
He heaved a huge sigh of relief and repositioned himself at my very wet and ready entrance. He slowly pushed into me. I closed my eyes at the amazing sensation.
“Open your eyes,” Jack commanded. “Look at me.”
I did. I didn’t think anything could be more intimate than making love with him and his giraffe, but I was wrong. Very wrong. I had never felt so vulnerable in my life as when we watched each other while he entered me. It was empowering and frightening.
He studied me as I adjusted to his body filling mine. I closed my eyes and he stopped. I looked up at him, startled.
“Don’t you want more?” he asked, inching a bit more into me.
“Yes,” I gasped.
“Then watch me when I fuck you.”
“Yes,” I whimpered.
With a quick deep thrust he buried himself completely inside me. My body convulsed around his and I cried out. The physical shock of his size was something my body desired, yet fought against. He started slow and steady, but my writhing and bucking wildly beneath him interfered with his rhythm. Before I knew it, he was pounding into me with a force and speed that should have killed me dead. It didn’t. I met every thrust with joyful abandon.
He gripped me by my hair and slanted his mouth against mine. His cock and tongue matched each other stroke for stroke. I wrapped my legs around his waist, giving him deeper access. He growled his approval. My orgasm swallowed me like an inferno. I sucked his tongue into my mouth and gripped him inside me with a force that sent shock waves rippling through my body and shudders rocking his.
“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I gasped, gripping his shoulders.
“Say it again,” he demanded.
I did. I’m fairly sure I chanted it as my world kept exploding in gorgeous colors all around me. Jack’s body tensed and he shouted as he came, knocking me into the land of impossibility . . . another orgasm.
Chapter 22
oreness from working out is one thing . . . soreness from having the best sex of my whole fucking life was an entirely different kind of pain. The really good kind. Giraffe or no giraffe, Jack was rockin’ in the sack. I glanced over at my future husband and sighed. He had no idea what I had planned for him, but as far as I was concerned he would have no choice. Anyone who can boink me into unconsciousness after giving me multiple big Os was not going anywhere. Ever.
“Hi.” He grinned, stretching his yummy body.
“Hi yourself,” I giggled, running my hand over his sexy morning stubble.
“Do you want to go to breakfast?” he asked. “Or can I have you for breakfast?”
“Ohh,” I flopped back on my pillow, cursing Evangeline for the millionth time. “I can’t do either. I have to go to work.”
“Call in sick,” he whispered, cupping my breast in his big hand and moving my hand down to greet his very excited happy camper.
“I wish I could,” I laughed, trying to roll away, “but I can’t. I have a deadline.”
He wrapped me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. “Okay, but you have to promise we can do it in my car after your parents’ anniversary party tonight.”
“Oh my God, I almost forgot about that. Do you want to go together?” I asked.
“Yep. I’m feeling a little addicted right now. I’m considering going to work with you today,” he chuckled. “Although, apparently I have a meeting about a major donation to the Police Department at the O’Hara estate around six. So I actually will be stalking you at your place of employment.” He smiled. “We can leave for the party when I’m done.”
Shit, shit, shit. I still hadn’t told him about Evangeline wanting him for her concubine. “I have to tell you something.” I sat up and got a wonky feeling in my tummy. I wasn’t the one who wanted to blackmail him . . . why did I feel so weird? “Jack, there is no major donation.”
“Right.” He grinned, trying to cop a feel of my ass.
“I’m serious.” I swatted his hand away and quickly yanked on a T-shirt and panties. This was not a buck-ass naked conversation we were about to have. “There is no donation,” I repeated.
“Okay,” he said patronizingly, “if there’s no donation, why am I going there?”
I crossed my hands over my braless chest and for a brief moment considered not telling him. Letting him show up totally unprepared to be hit on by an eighty-year-old bag of bones with obscene titties and a face that would scare small children. No . . . I couldn’t do that to my worst enemy. “Evangeline is going to try to blackmail you into giving her stud services.”
Jack threw his head back and laughed so hard, I thought he might choke. “Oh my God, Rena.” He pulled on his jeans and tried to swallow his grin. “That is just so wrong.”
“I’m serious,” I said.
“Uh huh,” he chuckled, pulling on his shoes. “Okay then, after I have sex with my great-great grandmother, we can go to your parents’ party.”
“This isn’t a joke,” I insisted. “You’re being set up by Sergeant Santa and Herbie the Cop-Dentist.”
“Rena, stop.” His laughter disappeared. “It was funny for a minute and now, not so much.”
“I’m not trying to be funny, Jack. Santa and Herbie are on her payroll and she wants to play hide the salami with you, so they are going to frame you for something and force you to . . . you know.” I put on some sweats, thinking he might take me more seriously if I was dressed.
“Enough,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I get that you hate that I’m a cop. With your colorful past that makes sense, but this is ridiculous. I am a cop. I love what I do. If you have a real problem with that . . . we need to have a talk.”
“Is that what you think this is about?” I said louder than I intended. I was trying to save him and he was treating me like I was a cop-hating jealous idiot.
“What in the hell am I supposed to think? You just informed me that my boss and a fellow officer are going to blackmail me into sleeping with the most grotesque woman I ever had the displeasure to meet,” he yelled.
“It’s not my fault you work for ass-monkeys,” I yelled back.
He shook his head in disgust. “We are not having this conversation right now. I have to go.”
“You’re not going anywhere until you believe me.” I ran to my bedroom door and stood in front of it.
“Rena, I love the crazy part of you, but you’re starting to sound like your Aunt Phyllis.”
I was this close to having an aneurysm. “You did not just say that.” My anger practically choked me. “Take it back.”
“Rena . . .” His voice was full of warning signals that I chose to ignore.
“I am not my Aunt Phyllis and you’re not the only one Evangeline is blackmailing,” I hissed. “Don’t for a minute think I didn’t know you were trying to get the scoop on the jewels I stole. I knew you were snooping around, trying to sell me down the river so you could get a big fat hairy promotion.”
Jack dropped back down on the bed, flabbergasted. “You stole jewels?”
“No! I didn’t steal any fucking jewels,” I shouted. “She planted them in that package I was delivering when you arrested me. And now she has me by the balls and I’m not even getting paid for it.”
“What are you talking about?” He threw his hands up and looked at me like I was insane. “The box was empty. There was nothing in the box, Rena.”
My head spun. The box was empty? Fucking empty? The realization hit with a sickening thud . . . I didn’t owe that viper anything. She didn’t have a damned thing on me. I didn’t have to go back there, ever.
“Rena, I think we have a problem,” he said, sounding distant and uncomfortable.
I said nothing. I couldn’t speak. The pressure in my chest was building rapidly, and I knew if I opened my mouth I would scream, further proving his case for my insanity.
“If you really think I was trying to have you incarcerated and you insist on libeling my boss . . . I don’t know what to say . . .” He dropped his head into his hands and sat silently on my bed.
“I want to say I’m sorry,” I whispered. He raised his eyes to mine, hopeful. “I should have trusted you and I do now. I don’t have any problem with you being a cop. Just like you don’t have any problem with my rap sheet.” I gave him a lopsided grin. The beginnings of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “But I’m serious about your boss and Evangeline forcing you to be her boy-toy. I heard the whole thing go down. Herbie even offered to do her, but she was having none of it. She told Santa he was shriveled and . . .”
“Goddamnit, Rena.” Jack’s smile was gone and his voice turned hard. “I can’t do this. You need some help and I need to go.” He stood up and moved me from the doorway. “It’s probably good it didn’t go any further than this,” he said coldly, referring to the best night of my life. “I guess I’ll just . . . see you around.” With a final look of anger and pity, he left.
He walked out of the door and out of my life.
My legs gave way and I crumpled to the floor. I pressed my head to my knees and sat there. For a long time. Never, never again would I give my heart to anyone. I couldn’t anyway . . . the one inside my chest had just shattered into a million pieces.
Chapter 23
oing back to hell wasn’t an option. For two weeks, that viper whore-bag had had me living in abject terror of spending years in the slammer. She could shove the partially finished Pirate Dave novel up her skinny ass.
I spent two hours packing all my belongings. I was moving out. The thought of running into Mr. Giraffe-back was more terrifying than spending five years in the pokey. I had horrible visions of me begging for another chance and him laughing in my face. Or even worse, running into him with some hot babe attached to his fine ass. To avoid that humiliation, I decided to move to another state. Far away. Accountants are needed everywhere, even in Russia.
I called Shoshanna and explained what had happened and why I wasn’t coming back. She was quiet for a long time, and then she told me that she loved me and she was glad I was free from the skank. She even offered to let me stay at her place. That made me feel like a piece of shit, but I held on to my resolve. Her concern for my well-being when I was leaving her to drown was mind blowing. She was a far better person than I was . . . or ever would be.
“What are you doing?” Kristy asked.
“Shit,” I screeched, dropping all my high school yearbooks. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“I didn’t. I repeat, what are you doing?” She folded her arms across her chest and eyed the hurricane that used to be my room.
“I’m moving.”
“I can see that.” She nodded. “Where to?”
“Not sure yet,” I admitted. “But it will be far away. Possibly Iceland.”
“Interesting,” she said. “Any reason for the abrupt departure?”
“Yep,” I said, shoving all my underwear into a shopping bag.
“Want to share?” she asked, pushing my box of high school cheerleading trophies over and plopping down on my bed.
“Considering that I am your roommate and best friend and the simple fact that I can’t afford this apartment without someone paying the other half of the rent . . . I suggest you spill, or I’m going to call your mom and tell her you’re moving to Iceland.”
I gave her my best pissed-off look. She laughed.
“Fine,” I huffed. “Jack broke up with me because I’m insane and the Viper-slag doesn’t really have anything on me because there weren’t any fucking jewels in the box. So apparently I’m being blackmailed for nothing. The crooked cops are going to force Jack to screw the Viper-whore and he didn’t believe me when I tried to warn him. It turns out Poppy’s a man, LeHump was married to a homosexual, and Nancy thinks her cooking was behind salmonella-gate. I don’t know what the hell Joanne’s problem is and I’m scared to find out. All these women are going down and I can’t save them. Aunt Phyllis expects me to attend Bigfoot meetings, and I’ve discovered I know more terms for the word penis than should be humanly possible. I will never listen to Oprah again because visualizing my future was what got me into this fucked-up mess to start with. But mostly I hate Jack. So I have to move.” I crumpled to the floor, for the second time that day, and burst into tears.
“Oh my God.” Kristy was on the floor instantly. She wrapped her arms around me and rocked me like a baby. “I didn’t follow a lot of that, but I understand the impulse now.”
“I ruined everything,” I sobbed.
“Not yet,” she said.
“What to you mean?” I sniffled.
“I mean, you can still redeem yourself with at least part of that list,” she said, stroking my hair.
“I don’t want to.” I got up and halfheartedly started packing again.
“Well then, you’re just a selfish bitch,” she said, so matter-of-fact, I thought I had heard her wrong.
“What did you call me?” I stopped packing and stared at her in shock.
“You heard me.” She raised her eyebrow in challenge. “You have no heart at all if you leave all those women who love you to be destroyed by that hateful slag.”
“You’re right about the heart. That got obliterated an hour ago. As far as the rent goes, I’ll pay till you can find a new roommate who’s not a heartless bitch. And the ladies—” I paused. I felt sick to my stomach and I wanted to tear my hair out in frustration. “I don’t know how to help them,” I yelled.
“When has that ever stopped you?” Kristy yelled back. “You went after the weather girl job and you threw your hat in to be an author . . .”
“And look where that got me,” I snapped, “arrested, blackmailed, and dumped.”
“Okay,” she caved. “Maybe I didn’t pick the best examples.”
“Ya think?”
“Fine”—she rolled her eyes—“I picked shitty examples, but you’re not a quitter.”
“Yes, I am.” I zipped my suitcase shut and looked at my best friend. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears.
“For yelling at you . . . for being a selfish bitch. For just . . . I’m sorry.” I picked up my suitcase and the shopping bag of undies and made my way to the front door.
“You’re really leaving?”
“I have to. Do you mind if I leave the trophies and yearbooks and stuff here until I know where I’ll be?” I asked, trying to hold back my own waterfall.
“That’s fine,” she said, hugging me tight. “Rena,” she paused, “what are some of the other names for penis?”
“The two worst ones are skin flute and pork sword,” I said, trying not to giggle. I couldn’t believe after our horrid conversation she still cared enough to try to make me smile.
“I’ve never heard those before,” she laughed. “Call me when you know where you’ll be. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I dragged my suitcase down to my car and I left.
Driving around for three hours with nowhere to go is expensive and stupid. I got lost six times. The talking lady in my GPS got so confused, it was almost funny. Almost. I pressed about four buttons to turn her off and then I couldn’t figure out how to turn her back on.
Conversations with Kristy and LeHump and the rest of the gals played through my head until it pounded. The worst was reliving the pity and disgust on Jack’s face . . . the memory left me feeling like I had shards of glass in my throat.
The only reasonable thing to do was to leave. Anyone could see that. My mom and dad would shit. Aunt Phyllis would miss me terribly. And Jenny . . . Jenny would laugh and shake her head, explaining to anyone who would listen what a pathetic loser I was.
Kristy would be okay and the ladies would move on, hopefully without Evangeline. I planned to send Nancy a letter detailing what I’d found out about salmonella-gate. I hoped that would help. Cecil worried me, but I still didn’t trust him. I could only pray he’d find a way out. Jack . . . fuck Jack, he wouldn’t even notice I was gone. If he did, he’d only feel relief.
With shaky fingers I had called my accounting firm and asked for a transfer. They’d laughed when I requested Iceland and suggested I stick with an English-speaking area, like Iowa. I told them I’d take it. The job would start in two weeks. That gave me some time to get my shit together before I left. It wasn’t Russia, but it was far enough that I wouldn’t disgrace myself with Jack any further than I already had.
I decided to drive to the travel agent and book my Iowa tickets. I had nothing better to do. I checked my watch; it was three-thirty. I still had a butt load of time to kill before my parents’ anniversary party. I drove until I found where I needed to go. I slowed the car to a stop, put it in park, and banged my head on the steering wheel. Five times. What in the hell was I doing? I couldn’t go in there. If I went in I would change the course of my life irrevocably. There was no going back. I thought about how great my life was up until this morning, well, most of it, and I stared at the building in front of me. Were the mistakes I’d made too big to overcome? Was Kristy right about me not being a quitter? It didn’t really matter. The look on Jack’s face when he’d left . . . I’d never forget that one.
I knew I’d made the right decision because the weight in my chest lifted. I was free. I might be impulsive and reckless and foulmouthed, but I wasn’t a quitter. I got out of the car, sucked in a huge breath, and prepared to meet my destiny. I slowly walked up the drive and stopped at the repulsive monstrosity near the entrance. I smacked the huge cement butt of the obscene statue I’d hidden behind the other morning and I went in to kick some ass. Evangeline thought she had me, but she didn’t. The tables had turned. She had no idea what she was dealing with now. I had absolutely nothing to lose. I was a dangerous combination of fearless rage and vengeful recently dumped girlfriend. A very bad combo. I still hadn’t ruled out Iowa, but I needed to stand up for the people who loved me, despite the fact I was a selfish bitch.
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