Slingshot by K.L. Savage

Two days later and I still haven’t seen Noah. I miss him. The fiery hot kiss and the way he commanded something inside me still lingers.

Faye snaps her fingers in front of me, and I raise my eyes from my club sandwich. “Yeah?”

“Girl, what has got you so distracted?” she asks, taking a sip of her Coke.

“She’s in love. I can tell.” Cora takes a bite of her salad, the lettuce crunching with every bite.

“You bet she is,” Nora confirms their suspicions.

I narrow my eyes at her and grab a roll from the bread dish, throwing it at her. “Ha-ha, very funny. Where’s Alice?”

“Don’t try to change the topic.” Cora’s heavy black eyeliner somehow remains perfect in this heat.

“I’m not,” I grumble.

“You are,” Libby pipes in after she wipes her mouth. “It’s okay. Your secret is safe with us.”

That I knew, but right now, I wanted everything that has to do with Noah and me to remain close to my heart. If I tell people, then if I let all the good about it out into the world, it isn’t special anymore.

“Is it… too big to fit in here?” Faye holds her hands over her mouth.

My eyes round in horror. “Don’t you dare sing that song.” I reach for her hands, but Libby takes the following line, and I want to die. Just curl up in a ball and die.

“Or…is it too big to fit in here?” She stands up and throws her hands over her zipper, catching a few people’s attention.

“I told you not to watch The Sweetest Thing again,” I hiss. “You always want to find a reason to sing the song.”

Nora stands up next. “—What lovely—” I tug her back down and point my fingers at my friends. “No more.”

Cora opens her mouth, and I slap a hand over it. “Don’t. Don’t even think about it. Not even a little.”

“But—” Libby interrupts, and I take my other hand and slap it over her mouth.

“No. No, buts.” I get easily flustered when it comes to attention, and my friends love to bring attention to us wherever we are.

I’m going to take that movie and burn it.

“Ah, come on, the song is hilarious, and you know it.” Cora rubs her lips together, holding in a smile, then leans over, placing her elbows on the table. “Is it big, though? Tell me when to stop.” She holds up her hands and starts off at the smallest size.

I roll my eyes.

“No, okay.” She pulls her hands apart. “Just say when.” The space between her palms gets wider. “Not yet? Okay. Now?” She keeps going, and I cross my arms. “Now? This is good. No? Really? Oh my god.” Cora’s lips part. “Oh my god, you need a doctor, Natalia. Are you injured? This is huge.” She keeps going until her arms are spread out as far as possible.

I stare at her, unamused even though it’s hilarious, I can’t break. Not now. “I’m not telling you, but no, it isn’t the size of a damn rocket.”

Nora kicks me under the table and gives me a curious look.

I tuck my hair behind my ear and pick up my sandwich. “I haven’t seen it…” I take a big bite of my sandwich to the point that chewing is hard.

“You’ve done something…I see it in your face.” Cora swirls her finger in a circle from across the table. “I want to know,” she pouts.

I take a swig of my sweet tea and let the liquid help me swallow the bite I took. “Too bad. It’s a secret for now.” I meet Nora’s eyes, so she knows not to tell them, and she nods.

I don’t want to keep Slingshot a secret. I just want to enjoy whatever is building between us before outside influences have a chance to ruin it.

“Hey, ladies.”

We all turn around and see Benji with his jock friends. Benji is sweet and doesn’t fit in with the guys he hangs out with at all, but he’s the star quarterback, so he hangs out with his teammates. He’s getting a double major, so he’s able to play football longer than usual.

“Hey Benji,” we say in unison.

“Dude, did you hear that? The sound of angels sang your name at the same time.” Brock, one of the lineman jokes. “Hey, Cora.” He juts his chin at her.

She flicks up her middle finger, her nails painted black, and the resting bitch face she gives Brock speaks so many volumes that he can’t catch.

“When and where, baby. I bet you’re a fucking freak.”

“Hey.” Benji shoves his friend. “Don’t talk about her like that. Apologize, Brock.”

“Yeah, Brock. Apologize to my freak of nature.” Cora stands and points to the space between her legs, which of course, has the other tables at the café take notice.

“Oh boy,” Faye grumbles. “Think she’ll start a fight? She’s always the one to throw the first punch.”

“Maybe,” I reply, waiting to see what happens.

“Who wants to start taking bets?” Libby asks, slamming a five on the table. “Cora will kick his ass.”

“Whatever, uptight bitch,” Brock says, and Benji shoves him again.

Brock slams into the table next to us, and the woman sitting there stands quickly when her drink falls on her, soaking her yellow dress.

Brock swings his fist, and Benji ducks and throws a punch that lands on Brock’s chin. The big linebacker stumbles backward and slams into my chair. His elbow slings into my eye, and I scream as my chair begins to tilt.

Right as I’m about to hit the ground, someone catches the back of the chair. I open my eyes, not realizing that I closed them.

“Are you being a good girl, Natalia? It seems to me you’re getting into fights.”

I don’t have time to answer before his lips are finally on mine, and I trust him to keep me upright in the chair. His tongue is quick as a whip, stealing a quick taste as he sets the chair on all fours.

I’m a bit lightheaded from the kiss, unable to form words.

“Damn.” Faye fans her face as she stares up at Slingshot. “No wonder you didn’t say anything. He is a T-R-E-A-T.”

Slingshot winks and his gaze falls to my eye. “Who did that?”

I stare at Benji and Brock, who are still fighting. This time, it’s Benji who’s slammed against the table, snapping the wood in half. The plates of food fly into the air, and the patrons move to get away from the fight.

It’s a damn uproar.

“It’s the bigger guy—oh, shit.”

I follow Faye’s line of sight to see Cora jumping on Brock’s back.

“I want to join. I want to join.” Knives, if I remember correctly, bounces on his heels.

“Me too, me too. It’s been so long since I’ve been in a fight.” Skirt throws on his brass knuckles, and they glimmer in the streetlights.

Slingshot’s demeanor becomes stormy as he pushes his friends back and heads into the chaos.

“Oh, your man is defending your honor,” Faye teases, nudging my side.

Seeing Slingshot in action has me feeling all tingly. He grabs the back of Brock’s shirt and pushes him against the small iron fence that blocks the café from the busy sidewalk. He pulls out his…well, slingshot, and turns it around. The end is sharp, pointed like a dagger, and Slingshot digs it into Brock’s neck.

Everyone quiets down, minus Benji’s groans and Faye is up and out of her chair to rush to his side.

“I think we have a problem, Brock.” Slingshot shoves him against the fence again and Knives and Skirt chuckle, then flank his sides.

My nipples harden, and my panties become wet while watching him transform from this gentle soul to this menacing man.

“In your efforts to prove how manly you are and how much you don’t give a fuck, you hurt my girl.” Slingshot grips Brock by the nape of his neck and forces him to look at me. “See? Look at her beautiful face.” His fingers grip Brock’s chin, smushing the linebacker’s mouth together. “I don’t like seeing her marked up. Now, say you’re sorry,” Slingshot orders.

I want to get on my knees and tell him how sorry I am when he gets that particular tone of voice. All I want to do is whatever he says and make him happy. I want him to see that I’m his good girl and that I’ll always do my best to make sure I stay that way.

My god.

I shake my head from the thoughts. What was that? Do I really want to be that kind of woman? I scoff at the idea of giving up the small amount of control I have over my life, but then remember how good it makes me feel.

“Sorry,” Brock mumbles.

Skirt throws his fist across Brock’s face, the brass knuckles doing more damage. Blood spews, and something flies through the air, clinking on the table. It rolls to a stop, and that’s when I see it’s a tooth.

“That is fucking awesome.” Cora picks up the bloody thing, and the rest of us girls cringe.

“I don’t think ye meant that, Lad. Yer going to want to try again.” Skirt wipes his brass knuckles across his green and black kilt.

“Fuck. You,” Brock spits.

“Yer a fucking idiot, aren’t ye? Do ye know how deep the shit is yer in right now?”

Sirens cry in the distance, and I hurry to Slingshot’s side. “The cops are coming, Slingshot. We need to go.”

“No, it’s okay, Good Girl,” he says, and as he leans down without breaking eye contact from Brock, I know what he wants.

I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek.

He grins. “See how sweet she is? See how I can be mad at what you did?”

“She was in my way, and you’re the ones that are about to be fucked. The cops are almost here.”

“You know what’s really great about being a King?” Slingshot digs the end of his weapon into Brock’s throat, leaving an irritated, red mark.

The cops park on the side of the road, and two uniformed police officers step out of their white patrol cars, but they don’t come close to us.

“Everyone is connected to us somehow,” Slingshot leans closer to Brock’s face and whispers. “Cops are in our pockets, Brock. These restaurants you love, we’re in business with them. Anywhere you go, I can tell you they’re affiliated with us everywhere you go. The cops aren’t going to do shit, Brock. You’re ours.”

“Everything okay, Slingshot?” one of the deputies yell.

“Just peachy. Got me someone who put his hands on my ol’ lady is all,” he replies.

Ol’ lady? We never talked about that, but I love how it sounds. I want to be.

“Well, we’ll let you have a good rest of the day then. Fellas.” The cops dip their hats at us before they get into the car. Then flip their sirens off and leave.

They just…go.

“Now, it’s just you with the three of us, Brock.” Slingshot digs the daggered end into Brock’s shoulder, then yanks it out. Brock yells in pain and crumbles to the ground, trying to grab onto Skirt, but the kilted man takes a step away.

Slingshot squats, resting his elbows on his knees and slides the bloody dagger under Brock’s chin to lift it. I can see the beads of sweat across Brock’s brows. “Let’s see you try to play ball now. Every time you lean against your hands, you’re going to be able to feel the threat. Next time, I’ll fucking kill you. Understand?” Slingshot turns his head to the side as Brock whispers so he can hear him. “I’m sorry, what was that? Speak up.”

“I understand, Sir,” Brock mumbles louder. Blood and saliva drop from his mouth onto the pavement, and his hand holds the wound on his shoulder, the red liquid seeping through his fingers.

“Don’t call me, Sir. Only one person calls me that.” Ocean eyes stare at me, and I’m nearly on my knees in front of this whole place, wanting to please him.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Slingshot lands his hands on his thighs as he pushes into a standing position.

Brock crawls away and tries to stand, but stumbles and a few of his friends help him to his feet while they try to get as far from Slingshot as possible.

“I’ll be back; go sit down,” he whispers in my ear, giving me a kiss on the cheek. He strolls inside the restaurant, the skull and the crown on the back of his cut glare at me with empty eye sockets.

“He’ll be back. He’s paying the owner for the damages these fuckers left. Not you.” Knives points to Benji. “We like you. What’s your name? What do you do? What’s your future like?”

“Knives, leave him alone.” Skirt groans. “He’s just a wee one.”

“He isn’t just ‘a wee one.’ He held his own. Who are you?” Knives asks, not sticking out his hand but running that damn ninja star across his knuckles like always.

“Benji,” my friend says. “Natalia, I’m so sorry about your eye. I shouldn’t have started anything. I didn’t like how he talked about you ladies.”

“No, you did good, kid,” Knives says. “You want something bigger, badder, and a bit messier, come prospect. We’re always looking for new blood.”

Benji rubs his jaw and nods. “Yeah, alright. Anything is better than going to the NFL to follow dad’s footsteps.”

Knives tosses his head back and laughs. “Ah, kid. You have no idea how many of us have fucking daddy issues.”

Slingshot comes outside, and he marches to me with powerful strides. The sun glints against his leather cut and his blue eyes; god, they hypnotize me. I don’t think he knows the power he exudes because he’s always holding it in. Without stopping, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck and bends me, dipping me over his knee as he kisses me, stealing my breath as his own.

A few catcalls sound out, and he pulls me up quickly, too quickly for me to piece together a single thought as his thumb brushes over my lips. “You didn’t go back to your seat. Good girls listen, don’t they?”

I nod and rub my thighs together when my clit begins to throb.

“Make it up to me by going out with me, right now.”

“Now? Right now?” I look around at my group of friends, and they’re all nodding.

“She’d love to go out.” Nora’s hand presses against my back, and she pushes me toward Slingshot.

“Well, there’s a bonfire tonight at the house,” Benji suggests. “If you want to come.”

“How about we meet you there? I want to change into something…better.”

Slingshot brings his soft lips to my ears. “Are you trying to tease me, Good Girl?”

I nod.

“Make sure you don’t wear panties, then. Text me the address.” He gives my behind a good squeeze as he leaves but then backtracks. “And be good while I’m gone, Natalia. You don’t want to know what happens when you misbehave.”

Oh, I do. I really do.

With hearts in my eyes and liquid heat between my thighs, I watch him mount his bike, which only leads me to think of all the ways he can mount me. The bikes grumble to life. The rumbles are deafening and shake the beverages on the table: the ice clinks together—the silverware trembles against the white tablecloth.

Slingshot does something I don’t expect him to do and reminds me how soft and tender his heart is.

He blows me a kiss in front of everyone without caring what others will think.

My knees are weak, and my brain is a complete fog as he pulls away.

“Oh my god, girl. You are so screwed,” Faye cheers before downing her drink.

“Nah, she’s about to be screwed. Right into a mattress!” Cora hollers and thrusts her hips into the air.

And then they begin to sing that damn song in The Sweetest Thing, and even Benji is cracking up laughing, but that’s not what makes it so bad.

Other people join in.

And I’ve never heard the word penis so much in my life.

I never want to watch that movie again.

Also, my friends need to come with a warning label. Society is never ready. I’m never ready.

“What are you going to wear tonight, Good Girl?”

“Nora, we have to go shopping. Now. All of us. Benji, you too,” I say, patting my entire body for my purse, then stop when I see it hanging on the edge of the chair.

Just remember…

No panties.