“I couldn’t give two fucks who you tell,” I say, and just before closing the door I finish with, “But I’ve only been back for five minutes, and everyone in this town already likes me better than you.”
I latch the door and lock it before she has a chance to say anything else.
Good riddance. Good fucking luck to her.
Tek is the only person I truly care about, and right now, he needs me more than anything.
Fuck my brother.
Fuck Broadrock.
Fuck anything else that threatens to come between us…
It takes me less than three minutes to shut down the computer and put the money—uncounted—into the safe.
Without taking off my slippers, I lock the shop and pull down the back roller door.
Tek is slumped against the truck’s passenger door, both hands deep in the front pocket of his hoodie.
I move towards him with purpose. I grip his jaw and dig my thumb in.
His eyes snap to mine. They’re wet and bloodshot, but not angry.
All the fight floods out of him in one exhale.
I kiss him, for the first time out in the open. Anyone could walk past, but I can tell by the way his lips submit to mine, that he doesn’t care anymore, either.
The truck unlocks with a beep. “Get in.”
“Y-yes, Sir,” he stutters out, all breath, no resistance. Completely willing to hand over his trust.
Itold him to leave me alone, but just like his brother, he does whatever the fuck he wants. He wouldn’t let me run. He refused to listen to my bullshit excuses about why I’m no good for him, and I’m relieved. I need his strength. I need his fight.
I need his discipline.
The second Carey stops my truck in the driveway, even before the ignition is off, I’m out of the cab. Door slammed behind me, I storm towards the porch without a word. Not since I called him Sir, has either of us spoken. There’s no need. We both know what’s about to happen.
Waiting at my front door, I hear the keys jangling behind me as Carey spins them around his finger.
Up the stairs and onto the porch he walks, his presence radiating against me.
I look towards the door handle, expecting him to reach around, but instead, he barges against me.
My hands fly up to smack against the door. One of Carey’s hands is on the wood beside mine, all power, no tension, as the other slowly slides the key into the lock. Without turning it, he reaches for my stomach, holding me as he presses his chest firm against my back.
My forehead falls forward against the door, and I look down. To the boards of the porch and the shop slippers still on my feet. Neither of us changed out of them. They’ll need to be cleaned.
Carey grinds against my ass and I squeeze my eyes shut because I’m already so turned on, so hard, so fucking terrified that this is all happening outside on the street where I live.
Where everybody knows me.
Where Ring Camera footage is impossible to deny.
“You think the neighbors are watching?”
“I-I don’t care,” I stutter at how hot the thought is.
“Fuuuuuck” Carey exhales in my ear, his hand slipping dangerously close to exactly where I need him to be. But I can’t move, I can’t beg, I have to wait like a good boy. “You want it exactly like we talked about?”
