Juggernaut Read online

  But I refuse to allow it to be a death sentence.

  So, I’m doing my best to accept it. And yes, some things are harder to accept than others.

  (Such as mammograms and involuntary flatulence.)

  For me, Van’s offer came at the perfect time.

  Because no matter how my life turns out, I can look back and say, I had a ball.

  Since Van isn’t picking me up until ten tomorrow morning, I needed this outlet—badly.

  I have to blow off some steam and get balanced again.

  Nothing says balance restoration like vodka sodas with lime and dance music.

  By my second drink, I still haven’t found my balance because I’m so fucking nervous about this convention. I’m nervous about sharing a hotel room with Van while pretending to be a couple. Nervous I might want sex and he won’t. Or he will and I’ll pass out before it happens. It is terrifying just how badly I want that connection with Van.

  Like I’d do anything for it.

  Seriously, I was made to sit on that man’s face!

  Which is why two hours later, as a very attractive man hit on me, I actually said, “Thanks but I’m engaged.”

  Four words I never thought would ever leave my mouth, but they do. Even Hillary chokes on her drink because I said them earnestly. But I decide this was good practice. I mean, if I’m going to do this, I should do it well.

  And I did it so well, I want to do it again and again and again…

  Every time someone passes by I literally have to stop myself from saying, “Hi, I’m Taylor, and I’m engaged!”

  However, this man doesn’t seem to mind I was taken. In fact, my rejection makes him more determined.

  Throughout the night, Van and I have been texting casually, and I explained my bling was a beacon for home-wreckers. When he asks me where I am, I thought it was conversationally speaking. Never did I expect he’d show up.

  Oh, but he does.

  And just as the juggernaut makes her appearance, too…

  I’m already on edge because Taylor was slammed with work prior to our trip and wasn’t able to get away to see me. Then I went straight to pissed when she told me she was meeting Hillary for last minute drinks. However, she kept in constant contact which I translated to wishing she was with me. Because when Taylor went out, she doesn’t spend that time on her phone. She gives her friends her total attention. I even convinced myself that she needed to stay in touch with me.

  A thought I like. I went with it, held onto it.

  So, when she casually informs me by text some pushy asshole wouldn’t leave her alone despite the rock on her finger—and it was a rock, too; the damn thing could shatter a floor if it fell from her finger—I saw my in and took it. Of course, for Taylor this is a temporary arrangement. Yet, not so for me, and some drunk asshole is hitting on the woman I consider mine.

  I would not allow another male to encroach on what belonged to me.

  Playing it cool, I ask where she is, and when she tells me, I am already heading toward my car.

  Now having a destination and making record time, I toss valet the keys.

  Once inside, I find her immediately. This wasn’t difficult, given her height and all that glorious hair.

  Her back is to me, but I can read her body language.

  She is pissed off.

  Stalking closer, I see her finger in the asshole’s face. And as I approach I hear her threaten, “Touch me again, and I’m going Dutch on your ass.”

  Immediately, I step past Taylor and take the asshole by the throat. Pinning him to the bar, I apply pressure and ask, “Are you hitting on my woman?”

  I can hear Taylor giggle and Hillary gasp, but I focus on him and ask again, “One more time, are you hitting on my woman?”

  “She was asking for it,” he coughs out.

  “Is that so?”

  Suddenly Taylor is next to me, and I watch her clamp down on the asshole’s crotch and twist. Letting out a squeal of pain, his face goes white before she twists again. “When was that exactly? When I asked you to go away? Told you I was taken? How did you miss the go fuck yourself? School me, whiskey dick, when was I asking for it?”

  “I – ”

  “I’m sorry,” she pouts adorably while bearing down. “Can you repeat that? My fiancé didn’t hear you.”

  Hearing her say fiancé settled me enough that I didn’t deck him, but it doesn’t stop his buddy from decking me. Stars explode behind my eyes, and I stagger, releasing the asshole. With a roar Taylor spins, rears back, and catches him under the chin, sending him straight on his ass. Before it could escalate, security grabs both men, but she isn’t done.

  “You hit my man,” she accuses. “You fucking hit him! Gotta go Dutch, I gotta!”

  “What does going Dutch mean?” I manage to ask.

  “Why tell you when I can show you?”

  Then adjusting her ring, she rears back and socks the guy.

  Right in the middle of his goddamn forehead.

  “That,” she says with a wink as we watch him go down. “Is going Dutch.”

  When it’s obvious I have no idea what she is talking about, Hillary offers, “It’s a movie.”

  “I see,” I mumble stupidly.

  “Taylor knows it by heart.”

  “Clearly.”

  Pulling her to me so she doesn’t hurt herself, we both watch security toss them out, but Taylor still wasn’t satisfied. Actually, she was a live wire set to blow. When she looks into my eyes I knew why. Cupping my face, she rises on her toes and kisses my cheek. Taylor doesn’t like seeing me hurt. Note to self: start cage fighting.

  “Fuck. You’re swelling up, Van.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I assure her by covering her hands with my own.

  “I am so sorry,” she whispers.

  “It’s not your fault,” I remind her.

  “And the juggernaut strikes again,” Hillary burps, and I see Taylor wince.

  “Are you good to drive?” I ask her, ignoring the comment.

  “Yes,” she says while tugging on Hillary’s hand. “I’ll get her home.”

  “I’m coming by after,” I prepare her. “We have some things to discuss.”

  “This might be a record,” she says, closing her eyes, and before I can stop her, she turns away, taking a drunk Hillary with her. After having squared up their tab, I wait at the valet for my car then I’m off to her place. I’m pulling in at the same time she is. This time, I’m making sure not to park in the fire lane.

  Following her upstairs, I say nothing as she dumps her bag and wraps ice in a towel. Getting in my space, she rests it on my cheek and whispers, “Keep it on for ten minutes.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just say it and go, Van,” she says, dropping her shoulders.

  “Say what and go?”

  She is attempting to slide the ring off when she said, “That I’m trouble and too much for you. That you’ll take your chances with someone else. Someone not like me.”

  Stopping her from removing it only to put it back where it belonged, on her goddamn finger, I growled. “When will you stop assuming to know what I’m thinking?”

  “Then what are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking you have one hell of a right hook,” I say before tossing the towel on the counter and tagging her neck. “Another thought was why couldn’t you make time to see me this week. I also might have wondered if you thought about me, but mostly I’m thinking I like hearing you call me your fiancé.”

  Dropping her chin, she mumbles, “I was nervous.”

  “About?”

  “Screwing this up.”

  At my silence, she raises her head and says, “It’s a lot of pressure, Van, and… you weren’t near me two minutes before you were clocked, and now you’ll show up at your convention with a fake fiancée and a real shiner.”

  “Do you hear me complaining?”

  “I don’t get you,” she says while backing away.

&nbs
p; “That doesn’t explain nerves. What are you nervous about?”

  Biting her lip, she shrugs and says, “Sharing a room with you. Public displays of affection – ”

  “Taylor,” I try. “Do you not want those things?”

  “It’s because I do want those things, Van. That’s why I’m nervous.”

  Like a fire lit throughout my entire body, I reacted. Extreme lust filled my veins while possessiveness I didn’t think possible has me pinning her to the fridge. With nowhere to go, Taylor clutches my sides. “I’ve made a decision. There is only one way to solve this problem. Tonight, I’m afraid I’m going to have to the nerves out of you.”

  At hearing this, two things happen.

  The first being Taylor offering me a smile so filled with carnal sin, I lose my breath. The second is finding my breath again when she seals her mouth over mine.

  One second, I’m confessing to being nervous and the next I’m undoing his pants. As our mouths fuck, I claw at what is left of his clothing and give him room to do the same. My skin is tight, feverish, and begging for his hands. I need to be naked; I need him naked yesterday. See, this is where being destructive worked to my advantage.

  When I want something, I go for it and will destroy whatever gets in the way.

  I wanted Van.

  I want to destroy him and his senses.

  Nothing and no one could stop me.

  Breaking our mouth duel, he bends at the knees and says, “Christ, I need a minute.”

  “Second thoughts?”

  “No,” he says and looks up, which shut me up. No man has ever said so much with just a look. “I don’t want our first time to be fucking you into the freezer.”

  “May I suggest the table? Perhaps bending me over the couch? I’m not picky.” And then an idea hit me, and I grinned. “Do you have trust issues, Van?”

  “I’m holding on by a thread here, Taylor.”

  With only a thin piece of lace covering me and boxers covering him, I extend my hand. “Come with me.”

  Without hesitation, he does and we run down the steps into my warehouse where I lead him to the photo booth in the far-left corner. These days every party features one, so I bought four. Three were out on loan and one remained. Plugging it in, I splay the curtain open inviting him inside. “Sit,” I may have said as I push him onto the bench. Straddling him, I waste no time going for it and he does the same. Palming my ass, sucking on the soft skin at my neck, Van went wild. I held my own and was grinding on his lap, digging my fingers into his shoulders and being very vocal about it. “Ready?” I ask arching back toward the panel.

  “For what?” he pants, looking at me with dazed eyes.

  “This,” I say while hitting the button and then coming back onto his lap. Not caring what photos are being taken or how they looked, we both get lost. With me stroking his cock and him rubbing my clit, neither of us could stop. My tits are smashed into his chest, my lips sucking on his tongue when he breaks to say, “Again.”

  Leaning us forward never severing contact, Van hits the start button and angles us toward the camera. Sinking my hands into his hair, I feed him my tongue as he fists my nape, forcing my head back.

  I have no idea how long this went on. But forever sounds good to me.

  Sweaty, aggressive, and primed, Van ripped my thong away and orders, “Balance on the bench, Taylor.”

  Placing my feet on either side of him, he readied his cock while I slowly slid back. When we were skin to skin, Van growls, “Fuck,” while I scream, “Yes.”

  Van has a thick, proud shaft with a fat head which fills me perfectly.

  As I push hard, he bounces me on his cock even harder. Pressing me against the plastic wall, he turns us and settles me in his lap while I wrap my legs around his waist. “Still nervous?” he asks with sweat dripping down his temple.

  “Extremely,” I faux sigh. “I need more convincing, Van.”

  “Hit the button.”

  Smacking it with my palm, I watch him latch onto my nipple while I arch my back and cradle his head. Sucking, lapping, and biting while he keeps pounding inside me, I’m close. So fucking close. And I never get close just from penetration. Never.

  “Make me come,” I beg him. “Please.”

  “Face the camera,” he orders and when I do, he sinks his teeth into the skin behind my ear. Screaming in unexpected pleasure, Van completely takes over. Fucking me so hard, so deep, and so good, all I could do was take it. Feeling it come on, I tilt, find his mouth and moan my release into it.

  Still, he didn’t stop.

  Hitting the button, he has me straddle the bench again while he comes up behind me. “Face the God Damn camera,” he orders in a rough voice. No sooner does my head turn, he slammed home. “Tightest cunt,” he praises. “Gripping my cock. Never stop kegeling. Your tits bouncing, your ass titled up like that… Exquisite torture.”

  Looking over my shoulder, he catches the look on my face and stills. “Shit, I’m sorry. I was caught up in – ”

  “Don’t you ever apologize for dirty talk. The dirtier the better.”

  For a solid five minutes, Van pounds into me only to swivel his hips and do it again. He is relentless, bordering on savage. I love it. “Make me come again!” I wail and smacking my ass perfectly hard, he hits the button and growls, “As you wish.” Gripping the bench, I peek over my shoulder and lose my breath watching him work me over. He was beautiful, so fucking beautiful like this. And when he caught my stare, he growls, “Felt you come on me, Taylor. Nothing more perfect. Never been so hard in my life. Don’t ever want to stop.”

  “I’m going to hit the button again,” I warn him. “Face the camera, Van. I want to see you now.”

  Slamming it with my fist, I get in position raising my ass higher in the air. With Van possessing me from behind, I watch him do it on the screen. “Show me, Van,” I beg him and with a mighty roar he faces the camera just as the shutter clicks once, twice, a final time.

  When he falls onto my back, I hold us both up while he finishes riding it out. His final thrusts stilling has me moaning and when he pulls out, I nearly come again.

  Boneless, we both make our way out of the booth standing naked in front of the depository.

  One by one, he takes the photos out to review them, but I didn’t look at the photos, I watched him.

  “This one,” he says proudly. “Can I keep it?”

  “You can keep them all,” I smile. “I have copies on the hard drive.” Copies I’ll probably carry in my purse and hide under my pillow. With enough drinks, I’d even show the Shit and rub their faces in it. This man deserved to be worshipped.

  Pulling me in for a soft kiss, he presses our foreheads together and says, “I can’t believe we just did that.”

  “Regrets already?”

  “Yes,” he says softly. “Not doing it two years ago.”

  With nothing to add, I snuggle into his chest and rest my head there.

  “How are your nerves?” he asks, kissing the top of my head.

  “I’m even more nervous now then I was before. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

  Throwing his head back, he laughs.

  And as I memorize it, keeping it safe inside me, I know I’ll give him the world just to hear it again.

  But for now, I love being the cause of it.

  Taylor is right.

  I do have a shiner.

  But after my night with her, the least of my concerns is a bruise on my face.

  Besides, earning it on her behalf was no hardship.

  Although, it’s the first time in my life I’ve ever been sucker punched.

  I could also guarantee it wouldn’t happen twice. I’d be alert now, ready.

  Though I hated having to leave, I have yet to pack, so I tuck her in and regretfully see myself out. But once home, I don’t sleep. I couldn’t. Not when she is all I could think about. It’s impossible to be in her presence and not have it stay with you long after. I knew she captiv
ated me, but I haven’t known the core of her. And every insight I get, I find myself starved for another.

  So, I came back bright and early with coffee, eager to hit the road. That was three hours ago, and during our ride up north, I found out she was truly my opposite, which made me incredibly happy.

  We literally have zero in common, yet together we make sense.

  She brings out the humor I generally kept hidden and when she laughs, I actually feel it.

  One of the first things I noticed was that she hates sitting still. I’ve never seen anyone squirm so much, find reasons to move and sit cross legged in a passenger seat.

  An hour ago, she started calling us city girl and country club.

  I didn’t disagree.

  The more she shared, the deeper I fell.

  As much as I could while watching the road, I memorized her mannerisms.

  She spoke, swore and expressed emotion with her hands.

  And it was goddamn adorable she changed the radio station thirty seconds into every song.

  “—could have retired had I followed through with snatch chat,” she is now explaining.

  “I could see a market for this.”

  “You could have represented me through the lawsuits, at a discount of course.”

  “As you wish is an interesting name for a business,” I open the dialogue. “I take it you’re a Princess Bride fan?”

  “Best movie ever,” she says breathlessly. “Do you like it?”

  “Do I like it? It’s only the greatest love story ever to star Fred Savage. I lost count of how many times I’ve seen it. My parents love it, too. They quote it all the time.”

  Per India’s orders, I’ve memorized what I could of the film in a short amount of time. She made it clear, if I was to get to the heart of Taylor all I had to do was watch the movie. Needless to say, once I did; everything that was Taylor made sense. Everything. So yes, I exaggerated my love for the film. Like you wouldn’t?

  “Peter Falk is hands down brilliant. Did you see him in Murder by Death?”

  “Can’t say I have,” not a lie.

  Clapping she announces, “Then we’ll have movie night starring all things Falk.”