The Imperfections by Sam Mariano

3

Brant

When I turnonto the long, dark path up my driveway, the girl hugs her bag close to her chest and casts a worried look my way.

My house is set back off the road because I value my privacy. It’s the dead of night and there aren’t any lights on this stretch of road, so beyond the shadow of trees, she can’t tell there’s a house at the end of all this dirt and gravel. It must look like a dark path to nowhere, and she probably has some idea of what that could mean for her.

Swallowing, she says, “Where are you taking me?”

This must feel like something right out of a horror movie to her, poor little thing. Without sparing a glance in her direction, I tell her, “I told you, I’m taking you to my place.”

“Your house?” she questions, looking at the path ahead of us, illuminated by my headlights and not much else.

“My house,” I verify. I could expand on that and explain it’s set back a ways on the property, but she’ll see for herself soon enough.

A couple seconds pass, then I feel her staring at me again. “What do you think of the name Mackenzie?”

I look over at her. “It’s a nice name.”

She nods, holding my gaze, looking real nervous. “I was thinking about maybe calling her that if the baby’s a girl. She could go by Kenzie for short. I haven’t thought of any good boy names yet.”

Still looking at her as the truck slowly rolls down my drive, I crack a smile. “Are you trying to remind me you’re pregnant in case I’m planning to kill you at the end of this car ride?”

Her cheeks flush and she looks out the passenger window. It’s too dark to see anything; she just wants to look away from me. “I could never kill someone who was pregnant,” she mutters.

Her subtle attempt at a guilt trip amuses the hell out of me. “But you could kill someone who wasn’t?”

She pauses then grumbles, “No, probably not.”

“Just probably?”

Shrugging her shoulders, she says, “Maybe if someone I loved was in danger and their life depended on me doing it. I don’t know.”

I consider her words as my house comes into view. She’s still looking out the side window and doesn’t see it, but I figure she’ll look ahead in a second. “That makes sense. I suppose most folks feel the same way.”

Her gaze snaps back to me since I left myself out of that supposition. “But not you?”

“Killing doesn’t do anything for me, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I answer vaguely.

“That’s not what I asked. Have you ever killed anyone before?”

“Yep,” I answer as I ease my truck into park. We’re here now, but she’s still looking at me, transfixed.

“For real?” she asks, a thread of awe in her voice.

I look over at her, expecting to see some kind of dim horror, but it’s more mild fascination on her pretty, tearstained face. “Yep, for real,” I verify. “I was younger than you. First time was an accident, but it still cost a life.”

She seems to take on the weight of my admission, leaning back against the seat, looking a little worse for wear. “That’s terrible,” she says quietly. “That must have been so traumatic for you.”

For me? I cock an eyebrow. “Yeah, pretty sure the person it happened to wasn’t too happy about it, either.”

She’s quiet for a moment. Then she says, “You said the first time. So, you’ve done it more than once?”

I look at her for a second, then pull the lever on my door and swing it open. I climb out of my truck without answering. “Come on,” I tell her. “Don’t waste your breath screaming, either. In case you didn’t notice on the way here, nearest neighbor’s about a mile up the road. I don’t expect you can scream loud enough for anyone to hear you.”

Alyssa doesn’t say anything, just opens the door and hops out, walking around the truck and following behind me like I’m someone trustworthy enough to follow.

“My dog’s probably asleep, but I expect we’ll wake him up,” I tell her, glancing back to make sure she’s still behind me. She walks so quietly, I can hardly hear her. Last thing I need is her darting off into the forest in the dead of night. I’d have to go after her and make sure she didn’t break her goddamn neck.

She’s still back there, though, looking at me with her big Bambi eyes. “Is it a friendly dog?”

“Friendly enough. Might be startled by the sight of a stranger coming into the house, though, so keep behind me until I let him know it’s okay.”

She follows me up the worn path to my front door and waits while I unlock it. Soon as the doorknob turns, Scout must wake up, because a little blur of black and tan fur comes barreling at the door to lick me hello. He skids to a stop when he sees I’ve got someone with me. He cocks his head then lets out a low, uncertain bark and looks up at her.

“She’s all right,” I tell him, bending down and petting the top of his head, right between his floppy ears.

“Aw, what a pretty dog,” Alyssa says, dropping her bag on the ground and kneeling so she’s closer to his height. “Hi, puppy. I’m Alyssa.”

Not much of a guard dog, apparently, because all it takes is the sound of her sweet voice luring him over for Scout to run right to her, tail wagging so hard his little body can’t quite move in a straight line.

Alyssa giggles and tips her head up as he paws at her nightie and starts licking her jaw while she pets him. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” she tells him. Looking up at me with a spark of pleasure in her eyes, she asks, “What’s his name?”

“Scout.”

The traitorous little mutt looks back at me at the sound of his name but stays with her, leaning against her legs while she rubs his side. “What kind is he? He’s gorgeous.”

“A mutt,” I offer. “Labrador and German Shepherd, mainly. Should be more keen on protecting me than kissing the face off an intruder,” I say pointedly. Scout ignores my criticism and licks the back of Alyssa’s hand, looking up at her all lovey-dovey.

Amused, Alyssa hugs his neck, then she looks up and says, “He probably figures you can defend yourself against the enormous threat I present.”

Not so sure about that, but I just shake my head and make my way toward the kitchen. “Come on, you faithless little shit. You want some food?”

Scout barks and goes running ahead of me. I don’t know whether or not the girl will follow me, but when I get to the kitchen and grab some food for the bottomless pit that is my canine companion, I see her hanging back in the doorway, watching.

“You like dogs?” I ask, just to make conversation. It’s clear she does, but I figure maybe she’s not as comfortable with silence as I am.

She nods her head, absently drifting a few more inches into the kitchen. “Yeah. We used to have one, but we didn’t have a fence and he liked to sneak out of the house every chance he got. One day he got out and got hit by a car. He was a mutt, too, a rescue. I’m not sure what kind. I think he had some shepherd in him, though.”

“They’re good dogs,” I remark.

“They are,” she agrees. She’s quiet for a minute or two while I get Scout some food and put his bowl on the ground. He acts like he’s never eaten in his life, trying to snatch a bite before I even get it all the way down. “He seems hungry,” she says.

“He’s always hungry,” I explain. “I left a bowl out for him all the time when I first brought him home, but he was eating me out of house and home. The vet told me to just feed him at set times or he’d put on too much weight, but it’s not always easy when I’m working long hours.”

“What do you do?” she asks, drifting a little closer.

“I own a bar in town. Takes up a lot of my time.”

“Oh. That’s cool.” She misses a beat, biting down on her bottom lip. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

I flick a glance in her direction. “I said Bri was my twin, didn’t I?”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t know how old Bri is.”

“Know how old her husband is?” I toss back.

Sighing softly, she looks away. A little dejected, she says, “Never mind.”

I shouldn’t mind disappointing her, but I find myself asking, “How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know, thirty?” she guesses.

“Close.”

She waits for me to tell her. When I don’t, she asks, “Are you really gonna make me guess?”

My lips tilt up in amusement at how impatient she is. “I’m 35,” I tell her.

“Oh, wow,” she murmurs, too open to hide her surprise. “That’s…”

“Just about twice your age, yes.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” she objects. Looking around, apparently for some sign of another person, she asks, “You live here all by yourself? No wife or kids?”

“Never got around to it.”

“You didn’t want any of that?” she asks.

“I would’ve liked having a couple rugrats running around, but I can’t do that by myself, now, can I?”

She wanders even closer. “Didn’t you want to get married?”

I offer her a mild smile. “What makes you think anyone ever wanted to marry me?”

“I’m sure someone did, sometime,” she says rather dismissively.

I shrug. “Never met the right person, I guess.”

I get Scout some fresh water and watch him finish scarfing down his food, then I let him outside so he can relieve himself before I head to bed.

The prospect of going to bed makes me think of how much I complicated my fucking life tonight. I had no intention of bringing a prisoner back to my house. I’ve gotta open the bar tomorrow, and I don’t know what I’ll do with her while I’m gone. I’m not even sure what I’ll do with her tonight.

I look over at her, absently keeping an eye on Scout like it’s her responsibility. Her back is to me and she’s still wearing that flimsy nightgown since I didn’t give her time to change before we left. She’s bathed in moonlight, same as she was a little bit ago when I first saw her.

Damn, she is pretty. Her honey blonde hair is swept back in a loose braid that hangs halfway down her back. Smooth, shapely legs peek out from beneath her nightgown.

I’m tempted to tell her to take it off again so I can get a better look at her. It’s not like there’s anyone else in the house to see her, and while I gave her a temporary reprieve and decided not to defile her in her own bed, I still plan to get those clothes off and bury my cock deep inside her before I let her sleep tonight.

I wonder if she knows that. Maybe she’s being friendly right now because she thinks she’s getting me on her side. Maybe she thinks I won’t touch her if she’s nice, because she doesn’t know my cock stirs just looking at her standing there in her innocent little nightgown in the moonlight.

Maybe she thinks I’m better than I am.

I focus on finishing my nightly routine, but I’m thoroughly distracted thinking about the girl with a mix of dread and lust. Dread, because I don’t want to fight her again, but my blood is so hot just thinking about touching her bare back, another struggle is probably inevitable. At her house I could keep her in hand with the threat of hurting her family, but I doubt that’ll work out here.

I clear my throat and adjust my pants. They’re getting too tight in the crotch. I look up at her right as she looks back at me to see if I was trying to get her attention.

I wasn’t, but some part of me thinks I should warn her. Don’t know what good it’ll do, I guess, but I don’t like the idea that she’s being nice because she thinks I’ve let her off the hook. That’ll only lead to her feeling betrayed when I haul her upstairs and prove her wrong.

I debate for a minute but end up letting her have these last few moments of peace, assuming she’s thinking I’ve changed my mind.

I bring Scout back in once he’s had enough time to do his business, then I grab the bag Alyssa put down and nod in the direction I want her to go.

Wordlessly, she follows me up the stairs.

The bedroom’s dark, but I don’t bother turning on the light. Pointing at the door leading to my bathroom, I tell her, “You can get ready for bed in there.”

“Is this your bedroom?” she asks, looking around the sparsely furnished room.

It has everything it needs, but nothing more. There’s a queen-sized bed with a nightstand on each side, even though I’m the only one who ever sleeps here. Scout has a dog bed beneath the window on the far side of the room, and right above it is an empty, wooden window seat with cabinets on either side for storage. The only other thing in the room is a pine storage chest wedged in the corner on Scout’s side.

Well, the girl’s side, while she’s here.

“It is.”

She glances at the bathroom door, taking a couple slow steps forward. “Am I…am I sleeping in here?”

“Yes,” I say, looking back at her.

She holds my gaze for a split second, long enough for her panic to register, then she puts her head down and quickly moves into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

I sigh once I’m alone in the room, putting her bag down along the wall by the bathroom door.

It hits me just how tired I am, and I wonder again how I’ll make sure she stays in my bed all night long. Exhausted as I am, what if I don’t hear her get up in the middle of the night? What if she tries to escape and I don’t fucking wake up, so she actually does?

It takes her so long in the bathroom, I start to worry she climbed out the window. My bedroom’s on the second floor so it would be quite a drop, but hell, maybe she’s desperate enough to risk a broken leg.

Rapping lightly on the door, I lean close to the wood and call out. “You all right in there?”

A beat later, she answers, “Yeah.”

Well, I guess she didn’t jump to her death. That’s good.

I’m already stripped down and ready for bed, but I need to brush my teeth. I’m sure she’s just trying to buy herself time, trying to come up with some way out of this, but she’s not only wasting her time, she’s wasting mine.

A little less patiently, I tell her through the door, “It’s time for bed.”

I stand there and wait a minute, but she doesn’t answer. Right when I’m about to break down the door and go get her little ass, the door finally cracks open. She peeks out at me then opens it wider and squeezes through, passing back into the bedroom.

Where the girl tried to take up as little space as possible passing from one room to the next, I shove the bathroom door all the way open so I can barge in.

“Take your nightgown off and get on the bed,” I tell her, no-nonsense, as I walk past her.

I hear her inhale sharply, but she doesn’t follow me into the bathroom to plead her case; she turns and makes her way over to my bed.

I brush my teeth quickly, worried she’ll try to run when there’s half a room between us and reality is closing in on her, but after I finish up and go to shut off the bathroom light, I see her silhouette sitting up in my bed. She’s fidgeting nervously with the sheet. As I move closer, I notice her bare skin beneath it.

She obeyed me, and now she’s naked in my bed.

Maybe this won’t be as much of a struggle as I thought it might be.

I cross to my side and lift the wrinkled sheet, climbing underneath. I never make my bed, so it always looks like someone just rolled out of it.

Alyssa’s still sitting there stiffly, so I tell her to lie down.

She swallows and draws a shaky breath, then she lies down flat with her head on the unused pillow that occupies the empty side of my bed.

Even though she’s scared, the sight of her bare breasts gets my blood heating. I’m too tired and too done with this day to do much to make this easier on her. I just want to fuck her and be done with it so I can get some sleep.

She knows it’s coming, but she still jumps when my hand comes to rest on her bare abdomen beneath the sheet.

“You don’t have to act so terrified,” I mutter, too many years between me and inexperience to remember what this might feel like. “You’ve been fucked before.”

“Not by a stranger,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.

Strikes me as funny she’d be picky about that. “No, just by someone else’s husband,” I shoot back, a little sharper than I intend.

She jumps again at the bite in my voice, like I struck her instead of saying something a little mean. “I told you I’m sorry for that,” she reminds me.

“Sorry doesn’t matter,” I inform her, losing my patience but not the fucking hard-on her body keeps giving me. I already let her have peace earlier and decided not to kill her, but I’m not a fucking saint. “I told you earlier: make yourself worth the headache you’re giving me, or you know the alternative. It was nice of me to give you a choice in the matter, wasn’t it?”

She doesn’t answer me, and I’m done talking to her about it.

“Put your hand on my dick,” I tell her.

This abrupt command startles her, and for a moment, I think she might refuse.

Then her gaze slides my way and she reaches toward my lap, hesitantly lifting my side of the sheet so she can slip her hand under it.

Her cool hand touches my thigh. She leaves it there for a second, then slowly inches over until she finds my dick.

At first, her fingertips just barely brush it, like she’s afraid to grab hold of it. She gets over it quickly, though, and wraps her hand around it.

As her soft grip tightens around my thick length, my eyes drift shut, and a shudder of pleasure travels straight through me.

“Is that okay?” she asks tentatively, seeking direction.

I’m not at all used to tentative lovers.

Maybe it’s her age, maybe it’s the circumstances; whatever the reason, I don’t mind it in her.

I sigh with pleasure as she begins stroking me. After a couple minutes of her handiwork, I’m ready for more. Since she seems to be awaiting further instruction, I reach over and slide my arm around her, hauling her close and commanding, “Kiss me.”

“On…on your mouth, or…?” Rather than say it, she nods toward my dick.

Fuck, she had to go and fill my head with the image of her lips around my cock. For some fucked-up reason, my mind chooses that moment to bring Theo’s words from the bar back to me, the part of his story where he told me she gave lousy head.

“Did you suck any dick before my brother-in-law?” I demand.

She has the grace to look embarrassed. “One other guy. Only once, though. We didn’t date for long.”

Inexperience. Theo could’ve taught her how to do it instead of insulting her skill level. Everyone probably gives shitty head when they don’t know what the hell they’re doing.

Well, might as well see just how shitty she is.

“Suck my dick.”

After drawing a fortifying breath, she looks down at the bed sheet. Underneath, her hand is around my cock, but she stares at it like it’s something more daunting than it is.

“Now,” I tell her, gently but firmly.

Her gaze darts to mine in mild alarm then returns to where I’ve demanded her attention. She licks her lips real quick, pulls the sheet back, and climbs down between my legs.

I don’t know why she looks up at me with those big eyes like I’m her savior and maybe I won’t make her do this, but she does. When she gets nothing from me, she finally lowers her head and gingerly takes the tip of my cock into the warm, wet haven of her mouth.

Closing my eyes, I let my head sink back into the pillow and enjoy the admittedly unskilled strokes of her tongue. The main problem is, while she’s trying to figure out what to do with her tongue and my dick, her hand isn’t doing jack shit. She’s holding my cock at the base like the bottom of an ice cream cone when she could be working me instead.

“That’s good,” I tell her, hoping to encourage her. “Now, lick it all the way down to the base, get the whole shaft wet with your mouth.”

She takes more of my cock but stops about halfway there. Then she pops off and looks up at me. “It doesn’t fit.”

“Hold it in your hand and run your tongue up and down my length. Once it’s all wet, you can pump my cock with your hand while you suck me.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head and trying again.

It takes her a few minutes to find a groove, but once she runs her sweet little tongue over every inch of my sizeable cock, she gets a little more daring. Once she gains a bit of confidence and starts doing the things I tell her to do, she loses the timidity that came along with not having a damn clue what she was doing.

“Fuck, Alyssa,” I murmur as she runs her tongue around my head and sucks like she’s been doing it for years. She pumps me while she does, and as good as it feels, I decide it’s time to cut her off and move things along. “Mm, you’re good at that,” I tell her, reaching down and rubbing the back of her head affectionately. “A little too good, though. You can stop now.”

She pops off my dick, giving it one last lick, then looks up at me with a strange gleam of hope in her eyes. “You really thought I was good at it?”

I nod wordlessly, but I don’t like that look. “Someone tell you otherwise?”

Dropping my gaze again, clearly carrying some embarrassment about it, she says, “Theo said I wasn’t good at it. He said it like he was joking, but I…I don’t think he was. I couldn’t be sure.”

My blood runs hot for an altogether different reason. “Theo’s a fucking asshole, and you should forget anything he ever said to you.”

Holding my gaze with a strange kind of intensity, she nods her head. “I will.”

Hit with a little swell of tenderness, I reach for her and cradle her face in my hand. Her gaze remains locked with mine while I do, and I have the thought that if I’m gonna kiss her, now’s the time to do it.

Strange a thought as it is, I don’t really know this girl well enough to kiss her. Instead, I shift our positions until she’s flat on her back and I’m on top of her, planted between her legs with my dick prodding her thigh.

Even though she just sucked my dick without too much complaint, now she looks panicked again, and I’m too tired for it. With a sigh of defeat, I tell her, “Roll over on your stomach.”

She searches my face, but she must not find what she’s looking for. Slowly, as if maybe I’ll get so tired of waiting I’ll decide fucking her isn’t worth it, she rolls over onto her stomach and grabs a pillow.

Since she’s already pregnant, I don’t bother with a condom. I forgot to grab the lube out of my bathroom cabinet, too, and I’m too tired to go get it. My dick’s already lubed up with her saliva, so that’ll probably suffice.

“Spread your legs,” I tell her.

She starts to obey, but then she stops, looking back at me over her shoulder. “Do we have to do this? Couldn’t we—I’ll suck your dick again, finish you off.”

“Alyssa, I swear to God, I put you on your stomach for a reason. Look at the mattress, not at me.”

She sighs heavily and faces down again, squeezing her pillow tighter.

Heaving a small sigh of my own, I reach down and guide my cock between her spread thighs. I line it up at her entrance but stop just short of pushing inside her.

It’s not the labored way she’s breathing or even the mild sounds of distress emanating from her that give me pause. It’s just that I haven’t so much as touched her pussy, and I’m second-guessing my lazy decision not to go get the lube. I don’t want to hurt the girl, and as nervous as she is, I highly doubt she’s wet.

After a few seconds’ thought, I let go of my cock and push a finger into her tight little cunt instead.

She gasps sharply in surprise as I invade her body. My blood heats with anticipation as I slide my finger into the tight space between her walls and imagine how incredible this tight heat will feel wrapped around my cock.

Her hips shift as I explore her body, naturally trying to move away from the foreign intrusion. Rather than withdraw like she wants me to, I slide my finger deeper into her.

Sure enough, I find some arousal pooled deep inside, but I doubt it’s enough to ease the passage of my cock. I try to spread around what’s there, then I pull my finger out of her body and bring my hand to my face.

I catch a whiff of her womanly scent as I spit on my index and middle fingers, and a sharp jolt of arousal goes straight to my cock.

This time, I make quick work of pushing my fingers into her, doing my best to lube up her tight little hole. I spit on my hand again and wet the tip of my dick, then I bring it to her pussy. This time, before it has a chance to dry, I push the tip inside her.

Alyssa gasps and cries out softly, strangling the fluff right out of my poor pillow as I push the head of my heavy cock into her. If she darts another look back at me and ruins this for me, I swear to God, I’m gonna beat her little ass.

I make a point of not looking at her just in case she tries it, but then as I inch deeper and deeper into her incredibly tight channel, I lose the mental capability to focus on anything else.

Holy fuck, she is tight. I have to go in slowly, so as not to stretch her too fast and hurt her. The slow claiming is fucking torture, too. With every fraction of an inch I push in, it gets harder and harder to breathe normally.

I close my eyes when I finally get all of my cock shoved inside her. I have to strain to keep myself in, because her body seems to be resisting my invasion, trying like hell to squeeze me back out.

The friction is fucking incredible, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Inwardly, I mutter a litany of fucks as I ease back slowly then push back in again, savoring the way her tight little pussy squeezes the life out of my dick as I do.

Holy shit.

I’m so swept up in how unbelievably good she feels, my world shrinks. It doesn’t matter how she came to be here, it doesn’t matter who she is—it doesn’t even matter that I have to fuck her face down so I don’t have to see any negative emotions that might be playing out on her face.

All that fucking matters is the mind-blowing sensation of my cock pumping into her. All that matters is the way her body grips mine and drives me out of my mind. All that matters is this pleasure and making sure it continues until it can’t anymore.

Just because I can’t look into her face while I fuck her doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy all the delights her body has to offer, so as I drive my cock deep into her pussy, I reach around and grab a handful of one of her breasts. She makes a noise when I do—surprise or dismay, I can’t be sure.

Her nipples are hard. As I finger the tight nub pressed against my hand, another little noise slips out of her. This time, I’m pretty sure it’s surprise.

I fuck the girl until I absolutely can’t anymore, and even as I feel myself drawing close to orgasm, I want to put it off. Once I come, I have to leave her body, and I don’t want to. I want to stay inside her forever, suspended in the torturous pleasure prison of fucking something that feels so good but never finishing.

As the pleasure ratchets up in intensity, I release her breast and grab her hips, holding on tight as I pound my cock into her. Her movement momentarily steals my attention as she grabs overhead for something to hold on to. She doesn’t find anything, but I don’t care.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter, absorbing the noises she’s making but not processing them. Are they pleasure, pain, or distress? I can’t tell, and I can’t care right now. I fuck her harder with long, forceful strokes, greedy for every bit of sensation her sweet pussy has to offer.

When I finally come, I thrust deep into her velvety heat and unload every drop of cum I can fit inside her.

At the tail end of my orgasm, I’m dimly aware of her saying, “Ouch.” I don’t immediately understand why she’s grabbing at my hand, but then I notice when I came, I dug my fingers into her hip. I must be hurting her.

I release her hip and collapse on top of her, completely boneless. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I murmur against her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she says quietly.

I can’t move. I can’t see. My eyes are closed, but I don’t think I’d be able to see even with them open.

I’ve never felt anything like her pussy before, and I’ve also never had an orgasm ripped out of me the way that one was. I was a man possessed. If anything had gotten in the way of that orgasm, I would have blown right past it. I’d kill without hesitation, without regard for guilt or innocence. I’d give up all my worldly possessions if that were the cost to keep fucking that pussy.

Yep, I’m in trouble.

Dread settles over me, but it doesn’t feel as heavy with the bliss of my orgasm still wrapped around me. I’m too fucking spent to move much, but I haul my weight over so I’m not crushing her and scoot back to my side of the bed.

I start to drift off, but I’m pulled back by the sound of her soft voice.

“Can I put my nightgown back on now?”

My head’s too heavy to move when I try to shake it, so I offer a slurred, “No. Come here.”

She tentatively moves closer as I reach out my arm to grab her. I pull her into my side, enjoying the way her soft breasts press against my skin. Been a long damn time since I went to bed with a woman.

It feels nice to hold her, but after a few minutes when my brain starts to leave my cock and return to my head, I realize I can’t just go to sleep. I’m too tired; I’ll sleep too heavily, and I can’t risk her getting away—especially after that fuck. She might not have reported Theo the other night because she had some lingering feelings for him, but I added abduction to the list of sins against her, and she doesn’t give two shits about me. If her little ass escapes my house tonight, she’s going straight to the cops with a pussy full of my cum, and I’m going straight to jail.

That’s a sobering enough thought that I let her go and climb off the bed.

She watches me as I grab her nightie off the floor then pick up the bag of clothes I told her she could bring. “What are you doing?” she asks.

Without answering, I return to my side of the bed and open the nightstand drawer, drawing out a small silver key. Then I walk over to the hand-carved wooden chest in the corner and unlock it. Finally, I drop her clothes into it on top of some ammo and an extra handgun I keep locked up. I secure the chest, check the lock, and head back to bed without explanation.

Gaping at me, she demands, “Why’d you just lock up all my stuff?”

“Can’t have you going anywhere,” I explain. I hold up the key to show her then climb back in bed. Once I’m comfortable, I reach beneath my back and push the key under my body.

She stares at me, her jaw hanging wide open. “How rude.”

I crack a little smile at her outrage before warning her, “If I wake up to your hands on my body, I’m gonna want to fuck you again, so I wouldn’t try it.”

“You didn’t have to take my things. I wouldn’t have gone anywhere,” she says, like she’s offended I don’t trust her. “I don’t even know where I am.”

“Mm-hmm,” I murmur skeptically as I close my eyes.

“Will I get them back tomorrow?” she demands. “You told me to pack things so I wouldn’t have to be naked all the time, and now here I am, forced to be naked.”

“Close that pretty little mouth and settle in,” I tell her. “It’s time to get some sleep. I’ve got another long day ahead of me tomorrow, and I don’t need you yapping and keeping me awake.”

She huffs, yanking the sheet up around her bare body and rolling over with her back to me. I open one eye and look over at the back of her blonde head. Suddenly, the small distance between us on the bed feels too far.

I slide my right arm under her body and yank her across the bed until her ass is back against my hip. I curl my arm around her small waist so I can hold her close, half-expecting her to fight my hold since she’s pouting, but she doesn’t.

“If it counts for anything, I’m glad I didn’t kill you tonight,” I tell her.

“You’re a true romantic,” she spits back acerbically.

I smirk at her temper and my arm tightens around her. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I’ll take better care of you tomorrow.”

After a minute or so passes, she says, “It’s not really your fault you hurt me.”

I frown, opening my eyes and glancing over at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you gripped my hip too tight and your nails bit into my skin, but inside me... I think something that happened the other night… I think I might have a tear or something. It stings just to pee, so of course it wasn’t comfortable to have you thrusting inside me. It wasn’t anything you did, though. It was because of something else.”

The blood in my veins drops several degrees and a lump of something unpleasant settles in my gut. When Theo told me the story earlier, I didn’t especially care, but the way she stumbles apologetically over this explanation of why it hurt her to be fucked tonight by someone she didn’t even want to fuck her… well, I’m feeling a little salty about it.

“Theo?” I ask sharply.

She swallows audibly and looks back at me, uncertain. “Yeah. When everything ended, it didn’t end nicely. He hurt me, and I know you probably don’t care because you’re Bri’s brother, and that’s okay, I just—I know I kept making noises like you were hurting me, and I thought I should explain why.”

I stare up at the ceiling, suddenly wide awake. “Did he hurt you before?”

“No. It was just after I told him I was pregnant. He completely changed. Before, he was nice to me, but that made him desperate and ugly, and…” She shakes her head, falling quiet for a minute before finally saying, “I probably shouldn’t even be surprised he hoped I’d die after that. I think he thought about killing me himself.”

He did, but I don’t tell her I know that. There’s no reason for her to suspect Theo would’ve told me as much as he did, and the only thing verifying that would accomplish is hurting her feelings.

On instinct, though, I tell her, “You stay away from Theo from here on out. I don’t expect you’ll ever see him again, but if you do, you keep away from him, you hear me?”

“I will,” she answers, her voice still small.

“I’m not saying it to lecture you,” I tell her, pulling her toward me again so she’ll face me. “Roll over, look at me.”

She sighs, but she rolls over and curls up against me like she was before I made her mad.

“A cornered animal can be dangerous, and Theo knows you could cost him a lot if anyone but me found out about you. That’s another reason you need to stay put here. As long as you’re in my house, you’re in my hands, but if you get away, your fate’s up in the air. I don’t know what Theo would do if he saw you again, and I don’t think we should find out.”

Alyssa nods her understanding. “I already told you, I never want to see him again. I meant that.”

“Good,” I tell her, relaxing my arm around her.

“I’m sorry I ever let anything happen with him,” she mutters.

“Good,” I say again.

Sighing huffily, she says, “He’s such a stupid jerk.”

I crack a smile. “On that, we can agree. Useless little prick. I wish my sister would get rid of him.”

After a minute, she asks, “Do you think she would, if she knew about me?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I like to think she would, but I could be wrong. Either way, it’d cause her a lot of hurt.”

“Yeah,” she says quietly. After pondering for a minute, she asks, “Do you think it’s selfish that I want to keep my baby?”

I look over at her, at those big, pleading eyes, searching for someone, anyone to tell her she’s not wrong. “No,” I tell her, and I mean it. “I don’t think that’s selfish at all.”

Her eyes brighten a little, and a tiny smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “Okay. I’ll let you get some sleep now.”

I let my head drift over closer until it’s on the edge of the pillow, right next to hers. “Good night, Alyssa.”

“Good night, Brant.”