“It’s fucking gorgeous.”
My eyebrows perk. “Really?” I whisper.
“Really.”
I smile and for this moment, these breaths, I don’t feel sad. “The chair was all I could afford and the sheets were in the sale. The hair is laziness. It’s easier.”
“You need money?”
My name is Scarlet Stone, and I see the people around me as opportunities to see different sides of myself.
“No. My financial situation is a choice at the moment. I could get a better paying job or go back to lying, cheating, and stealing, but I’m fascinated by the whole living payday to payday thing. It’s humbling and challenging at the same time. Much like the Argonaut octopus. It’s a type of nautilus. Its penis, which is essentially a ball of sperm in a tentacle, can completely detach to look for lady parts to wiggle into—challenging. But… once it lets go of the goods, it soon dies—humbling.”
Theo’s chest vibrates with laughter. “How does ‘do you need money’ turn into a detachable penis story?”
“Oh… so to answer your question, I’m good. I’ll survive.”
“And your head?”
“My head?”
He releases my breast long enough to smooth the pad of his finger over my cut.
I frown. “Work injury.”
“Nellie more of a handful than you thought?”
My chin rolls back and forth on his chest as I shake my head. “Harold.”
Theo’s brow knits together.
“He’s worried I’m going to do something to stir up trouble.”
“Your face. What happened to your face?” His voice deepens as his teeth clench.
“He had a word with me, but he thought I’d listen better if he pinned me to the wall.”
Theo bolts to sitting, practically shoving me off the bed. “He fucking did this on purpose?”
“The pinning, yes. The cut was an accident. I think.” My nose scrunches.
“I’m going to end that son of a bitch.” He tosses the covers aside.
For a few insane seconds, I feel a bit of a rush, like I did the night he threatened the tosser from the pub on the beach. Then I think about Nellie. “Wait. No!” I grab his arm as he goes to stand.
He glares at me.
“You’re leaving in forty-eight hours. Don’t leave this bed now. I’ll call in sick tomorrow. You can bust the windshield of Harold’s car on your way out of town, but for now… stay.”
His face draws tight with pain and conflict.
I tug harder on his arm. “Me or Harold. Choose.”
After a few moments, he crawls back onto the mattress, caging me beneath him. I think over the past twenty-four hours he fractured myclamshell. I will never bike again. But he’s leaving and it’s like having your favorite food for the last time ever. Consequences be dammed!
Theo bends his arms, muscles flexing as his head lowers to mine. He kisses me like mad, and I kiss him back with just as much eagerness. I can’t wrap my head around Theodore Reed, music theory and composition graduate, a rather sophisticated title, fucking me all the time like a complete beast—a freight train.
The sex is nothing short of mind-blowing, but it’s far from romantic. It’s animalistic. When he reaches down and discovers I am dry like the Sahara because I’m so sore, his idea of gentlemanliness is to spit on his hand and rub it between my legs. I should be offended and repulsed by his behavior, but I’m not. Just the opposite. I’m turned on by this feral beast and within seconds of his fingers smearing spit on me, I’m actually throbbing for a release in spite of the pain. My nipples harden. My heels claim his back and my pelvis—my fractured clamshell—is ready for another round of torture.
