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Authors: Nikki Groom

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BOOK: Against the Tide
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“Megan!” Torran laughs.

“Well, once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all, no?”

“No, Meg. You haven’t seen mine, and I bet I could make you blush.”

“Yeah, right. What are you, ten inches and as thick as a coke can?” I chuckle under my breath. “I’ve heard of men that are well endowed, but I’ve never seen anyone that remotely comes close to the myths.”

Torran comes to stand just behind me, his breath tickling my ear. “You want me to show you?” he whispers seductively. “Because I’m not shy, Meg.” My breath falters and I can’t think of a witty comeback for that. “Totally made you blush.” Torran laughs and ruffles my hair.

“You wanker,” I chuckle, throwing a pen at him as he walks away. He glances back and throws a wink over his shoulder.

“Yep, more often than you’d care to think about.”

“Torran!” I squeal, trying not to get a mental picture of him, you know, doing that. Thankfully the door opens and saves me from any further depraved thoughts of Torran, and even more embarrassment.

“Hey.” I smile at the guy who walks in. He’s cute. Far too pretty for my tastes though. He seems familiar but I can’t place him. “Can I help you?” He rubs his hands on his jeans and his eyes dart around the seating area.

“Uh, yeah. I … I have a booking for a, uh …”

I stifle a chuckle, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable “What’s your name?”

“It’s Kyle Sutherland,” he stutters.

I can’t help but grin “Well, Kyle Sutherland, it looks like you’re booked in with me to have an intimate piercing, that right?”

“Yeah. That’s right,” he answers shakily. Nerves are clearly getting the better of him and the demon in me wants to mess with him a little, but I push it away so I don’t send the poor guy running.

“Okay. Follow me.” He hesitates then takes a deep breath and comes with me to my room.

“I … My mate, he’s …”

“He wants his dick pierced too?” I answer before really thinking about it, and his eyes widen.

“No! At least I don’t think so, you’ll have to ask him when he gets here.” He visibly starts to relax. “What I was going to say is, he went to get a haircut and should be along any minute now.”

“To watch?” I ask curiously.

“You’re funny,” he grumbles sarcastically.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s start again, I’m Megan.” I extend my hand out to him. He takes it, encasing mine with his. He has hands like shovels.

“Kyle.”

“Good, now we have the formalities out of the way. So, we are piercing your …”

“Yes. My…”

“Look,” I say, placing my hand on my cocked hip. “I understand that you’re nervous. Having a woman coming at you with a hollow needle is unnerving, I’m sure.” He winces at my choice of words. “But, I’m going to need you to actually tell me what you’d like me to do for you today.”

He takes a deep breath and says, “I’d like my cock pierced, please.”

“Okay,” I say, fighting back the laughter at his formal request. “And what type of piercing would you like?” He frowns, so I elaborate, “Well, there’s three main penis piercings, the Prince Albert, the Ampallang and the Apadravya. Basically the Albert goes through−”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold it right there. I don’t want to know the ins and outs of how you’re going to do it. I just want a piercing. Which one is more, you know, sexual?” He gives a small, shy shrug and looks in to his lap.

“Well, since I don’t have a penis, I couldn’t tell you. But I’ve been told that the Price Albert is pretty effective. It has a faster healing time and is less painful but still pretty high on the badass scale.”

“Okay. Do it. Do that one,” he says quickly unbuckling his belt.

“Hey,” I laugh, holding up my hand to stop him in his tracks. “Hold up there, fella. We need to go through consent forms, I’ll go get them.” He falls back on the chair dramatically and I laugh as I exit the room.

I lift my gaze as I go out the studio floor, and see
him
standing right in front of me.

He looks tired, and thin, and … his gaze bores intensely in to me.

I let my eyes roam over his face, recalling every part of him and I realise this is the first time I’ve seen him in the daylight. Instinct has me drawing my hand up to touch his cheek but I stop myself. What a ridiculous reaction. I don’t even know him. I don’t even know his name. But this is the reaction I have every time I’ve seen him before now.

“Hi,” I say softly.

He seems to break out of whatever thoughts he was having and quickly slips a mask on “Is there a guy called Kyle here?” he asks coldly, looking around the room and not even acknowledging that he recognises me. Maybe he doesn’t. Is that even possible after what we did?

“Uh, yeah, just through that door there,” I answer quietly, his distant, cold demeanour making me feel uncomfortable and small.

He strides forward and nudges my shoulder as he passes, he doesn’t apologise, just marches into my room. “We’re leaving, now,” he barks before turning on his heel and walking past me so fast I feel the air turn cold behind him. 

“You’re just going to act like it never happened?” I call out from the same spot that I’ve been locked to since he entered. He stops, hangs his head, and takes a deep breath. Then he’s up in front of me before I can blink.

“Yes. I’m going to act like it never happened,” he spits at me. His tall frame towers over my five foot two height and I feel anger pulsing off him, stabbing me in the heart. “Why?” he laughs bitterly before grabbing my jaw firmly and forcing me to look up at him. “You want a re-run? Was it that good that you want me to fuck you in another alley? Hell, I’ll take you right here if you want me to?” His voice raises and Torran comes running out of the back room. I’m speechless. I’m blindsided by the viciousness his words are laced with, and I’m confused at the change of direction he’s taken with me.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get your hands off her and leave before I have to deal with you,” Torran warns in a dangerously low voice.

“What the fuck’s going on out here? Finn?” his mate asks, coming out of my room. So he’s called Finn. It’s ridiculous that I’m thinking about that now. It’s all that runs through my head. For the last couple of months he’s had no name, now he has a name, along with a hatred of me that I have no idea where it comes from. I got him wrong. I got him all wrong.

“Oh yeah?” Finn says quietly, removing his hand from my jaw and clenching his fists at his sides. He turns towards Torran and I get a churning in my gut. Something tells me that this guy, Finn, is hanging by a thread. I don’t know him like I stupidly fooled myself into thinking I did, and he feels dangerous now. And Torran, well, I know he can be dangerous. “You wanna deal with me?” Finn asks with narrowed eyes. “I don’t think you know what you’d be dealing with, my friend.” The second his words leave his mouth he lunges at Torran, knocking him off balance so they both end up throwing punches at each other while rolling around on the floor.

“Stop it,” I yell desperately. “Stop it, both of you.”

Finn’s friend, Kyle, bustles in between them and pulls Finn off, holding him around his chest while he struggles to pull forward.

“Get out,” Torran orders, wiping a trail of blood from his lip with the back of his hand.

“You,” Finn points a piercing stare in my direction. “Stay the fuck away from me, okay? You don’t exist, you’re nothin’ but a fucking mistake.” He shakes his shoulder out of his friend’s grasp who reluctantly lets him go. “I’m done here,” he spits, looking directly at me.

I’ve met a lot of nasty, evil, twisted people in my lifetime so far. I’ve seen them for what they are and avoided them like the plague. But this time I was so sure that I had him sussed out. I was so damn sure that whatever connection we seemed to have, was real. It might not have been explainable or logical, but it couldn’t be denied. In a few short words, and with that look of disgust, he’s made me feel like I’ve never felt before. Like a slut. Used and tossed aside like a stupid, desperate little girl that followed a desire and came out dirtied.

I shove the door open and stride down the street. I barge past people walking in the opposite direction and secretly will one of them to say something to me to give me a damn good reason to get all this anger out. I know it’s irrational, it all is, and I’m not proud of myself. Hell, seeing her was like a blanket around my heart, but a knife to my chest. She’s love and hate all rolled together in a ball of sheer confusion. My first instinct was to place my hands on her cheeks and pull her lips to mine. Then I realised, that in that split second, I had lost myself to the desire, and everything else that she represents to me came flying at me full force.

She’s the reason my sister is dead.

It’s her fault I wasn’t there to keep my sister safe that night, and she just proved that she makes me lose my mind. All rational thinking comes to a stop when I’m near her. It’s a battle of emotions going on in my chest because I blame myself just as much, I hate myself just as much as I hate her.

“Finn,” Kyle calls out from behind me. “Finn, wait up.” He rests his hand on my shoulder, halting my stride.

“What?” I bark.

“Don’t
what
me. You know exactly
what
.”

“Not now, alright?” I rub at my temples and sigh.

“No, Finn. It’s not alright. Everyone has been pussyfooting around you for weeks now. We’ve put up with your drink and drug binges, we’ve put up with your attitude and your complete disregard for anyone else, and it’s about time you stopped. I thought we already had this conversation this morning?”

I hang my head, feeling ashamed, tired, conflicted.

“Was that
the
girl?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“The one who was going to pierce my dick?”

I laugh, “Yeah. You nutter.”

“She didn’t deserve that,” he barks, ignoring my remark.

I shrug. “Maybe not, but it’s how I feel.”

“And that makes it okay?”

“Whose side are you on? So I yelled at a girl and probably made her cry. Do I feel good about that? No. But she didn’t lose someone that night, she will still go on to live her life and forget who the hell I am. Fuck, Kyle, I still don’t even know her name, so why should I care how the fuck it makes her feel?”

“Megan.”

“What?” I snap.

“Her name is Megan.”

“Of course you’d know that,” I muse. “I should have known that you were on first name terms because she was going to shove a needle in your …Did she see you naked?” A boiling anger bubbles up inside my chest, jealousy. Which is totally irrational and I try to push it away, but I have to know. “I mean, did you show her your cock? Did she have to … touch you?” I swallow noisily, feeling sick with the mental picture spinning in my head.

“No!” he gasps. “You came in and started hollering so I didn’t even get a chance to sign the consent forms.” He shakes his head and I let out a sigh of relief. I know it’s ridiculous to not want her near any of my friends’ intimate parts, actually, the thought of her near another man’s cock, be it in a professional circumstance or not, makes me want to tear in to someone. “Guess I saved you,” I smirk.

“Saved me? No, man. I am going to get it done. Megan said it was badass, hell, had you not been there before with her, I would have given her a sample of my Southern charm.”

I react instantly, giving Kyle no warning that my fist is just about to connect with his jaw. His head flies back with the force and when he rights himself, he blinks and shakes his head to clear it.

“Fucking twat.” He laughs, rubbing his jaw. “Guess I had that one coming. Still, that was really a pussy punch being that you’re not firing on all cylinders, so I’ll let you have it. But just so you know, if you ever mark this pretty face for good, I won’t be so kind, friend,” he warns, saying the last few words through gritted teeth. I stand in front of him with my hands on my hips not knowing if I should laugh or cry. The first day I’ve been sober in weeks, and it’s been a rollercoaster. It’s almost been going fast enough to make me feel sick.

“Let’s get lunch,” Kyle suggests, punching me lightly on the arm and walking in the direction of the square where all the bistros are.

I follow but I’m not in the least bit hungry “Lunch? We only ate two hours ago.”

“Well, I burned up all the calories I had for breakfast through nerves when I sat there waiting for my fate in the tattooist’s, so I’m ready to go again.”

“Idiot,” I throw at him affectionately.

“Wanker.”

“Sorry ‘bout your jaw.”

“Already forgotten.”

“Oh, and … Southern charm? You’re not a bloody cowboy.”

He frowns and then grins at me. “No, but we are in the South and they don’t come much more charming than me.”

 

 

BOOK: Against the Tide
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