Badass (10 page)

Sitting back in the booth at the motel diner, she pushed her scrambled eggs from one side to the other. Why had she ordered this? Muffins were more her speed in the morning. Lifting the coffee cup, she took a sip. Blah! It had grown cold while she sat here and brooded. Apparently a waitress had seen her grimace, because she brought her a fresh cup. “Thanks,” she smiled at the woman. ‘Charla’, as her nametag read, smiled back, but it was an odd smile. In fact when she looked around, everyone was sorta leering at her with that same knowing, goofy look on their faces. Avery glanced down to make sure her boobs weren’t hanging out or something. They weren’t, all the buttons were done and straight. What was going on? It wasn’t like she knew these people. Even though Kerrville wasn’t a huge city, her paths had not crossed with most of these folks. Feeling uncomfortable, she took one last long drink of coffee, grabbed the flyer and made her way to the cashier where she was met with yet another smirk.

Relieved to get out of the restaurant, Avery made her way back to the room. Last night was still fresh in her mind. Sleep had been a long time coming – all Avery could see when she looked around the room was Isaac. The feel of his hands on her body were impossible to forget, and the look on his face when she had given him pleasure was burned in her memory forever. Avery wanted more. Was she just kidding herself? Could Isaac ever really want her in his life? Oh, he desired her, but what hurt the most was that he didn’t want to want her. Lord, even the thought was as much of a brainteaser as it was a tongue twister. For some reason, she didn’t appeal to him. And that hurt.

After he had left her alone, she had sat down, and in typical Avery fashion had jotted down a plan. Thank goodness, she didn’t have to go to a typical nine-to-five job. Every time she thought about how wonderfully free her days were – it thrilled her – Avery had two careers that were allowing her to be creative, sensual and made her a pretty decent living. Writing romance novels was fun as well as fulfilling. A tiny smile played over her lips. During the past year, she had become a pro at promoting her books. With meticulous care, she had researched the markets and what types of books were selling and which ones weren’t as popular. It amused her that the hottest, fastest growing market was erotic romances. Before she had felt inadequate to pen stories with explicit sex, now she had more information and even a tad of experience to fall back on. Just thinking of the tales she could spin with Isaac as the hero and her as the heroine made goose bumps rise on her skin. Soon, she promised herself, she would concoct another story so hot it would melt her fan’s ereaders.

Sitting on the bed, she picked up the notebook where she had detailed her game plan. Being fair to herself and Isaac, she had put a time limit on her campaign. She would give it three weeks – until the end of the month – and if, by then, he was still pushing her away, she would go. The dance contest would fit perfectly within her strategy. And if her pole dance didn’t work at convincing Isaac she was perfect for him – she still had two or three more ideas to try before she gave up.

Scooting back against the headboard, she twined one of her dark ringlets around her forefinger and considered the cosmopolitan-style list. First, she intended to show Isaac that she could fit into his world. Check. It wasn’t a one-time feat, but last night was a good start – or at least a start. Second, she would try to tempt him. This would be a hard one. Avery knew she wasn’t very tempting. Hmmmm, the clothes seemed to work, but the dance would have to be her piece de resistance. Making a few notes, she thought about what she would wear and what song she would dance to. Her safest bet would be to use the same songs that Destiny had used when she taught her the one and only routine she knew. Glancing at the flyer, Avery decided to call and find out exactly what was expected of a contestant. “Please, just don’t let Isaac answer the phone,” she prayed. After two rings a male voice came on the phone, “Hardbodies, May I help you?” Thank God, it wasn’t him.

“Yes, I was calling in reference to the dance contest you are hosting in your establishment, tonight.”

There was a pregnant pause, then a distinct chuckle. “All right, what would you like to know, mam?”

“Should I bring a tape or CD of my song selection or will you have some way of providing musical accompaniment for my dance number?”

“Uh, okay. What tune are you planning on performing to?”

“‘Wild One’ by Faith Hill and ‘How Do I Live With You’ by that . . . . . other girl. I can’t think of her name.”

“Trisha Yearwood and its ‘How Do I Live
Without
You’. Our band can play both of those songs.”

“No – basically, you just show up and let us know when you arrive that you want to dance. We’ll assign you a number and you’re all set.”

That surprised Avery. “You don’t need to know my stage name?”

“Oh, I’d love to know your stage name. Tell me.”

At his tone, Avery wondered if he were making fun of her. Gee, she wished she knew how these things worked. “My stage name is – uh – Rose. The Wild Rose.” There – that sounded sexy. Didn’t it?

“Well, Miss Wild – I’ll be watching for you tonight. Good luck!” As the gentleman hung up, Avery could swear she heard him laughing. Men! She’d never understand them if she lived to be a hundred. Why couldn’t things be simple? Over the years, she had woven this elaborate daydream scenario of her life with Isaac. In her heart, Avery had imagined them dating, getting engaged and her walking down the aisle in white satin as her Dad and Isaac waited at the altar. After that, things had gotten a bit blurry. Would they live at Tebow? Would they have a little cottage with that proverbial white picket fence? She knew there would be children – dark haired babies with beautiful blue or violet eyes. Avery even had names for them: for a boy, Austin Isaac McCoy and a girl would be named Savannah Elise McCoy. Isaac would help her take care of them and they would take them to church and attend family gatherings. Oh, it was going to be wonderful.

Screech! Halt! Avery stopped her musings – Isaac was different and she had to be different, too. That was what this seduction campaign was all about; to prove to Isaac that she could be just what he needed. Back to the plan. The third phase in her mission would be to make him jealous. Now, that would take some thought. And the last item on the agenda was to make herself scarce so he would realize he missed her - and needed her. Sighing, she admitted to herself that she had a lot of work to do. And the first order of business was a trip to the Laundromat.

****

“Noah, I don’t know who else to call?” Harper sounded desperate. Noah closed his eyes and steeled himself to her pleas. “I’ll do anything, please. Just say that you’ll meet me. I only want to talk – that’s all. Just talk.”

Hanging his head, Noah debated what to do. “I can’t condone your lifestyle, Harper. BDSM is not something that I could ever be involved in. You have ventured out way beyond my comfort zone. What you do – what you want done to you – it just turns my stomach.” His voice betrayed his distaste, but he couldn’t hide it. “I will never understand why you crave pain. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you that.”

“I know,” she whispered thinly. “I’ll try – Noah – I’ll try to give it up, if you’ll just help me. Please, say you’ll meet with me – tonight. Meet me at your brother’s bar. Nothing will go on, except conversation. I promise.”

Fuck! Sadness and anger colored his thoughts. This was the woman he had built his dreams around, only to find that she had thrown her life away in pursuit of kinky thrills and a sick desire to be tied up and whipped. “All right, Harper. But know this – I can’t be with you when you’re this way. It’s like a disease. I’ll never understand why you couldn’t be satisfied with me and what I could give you.” She had hurt him. He was just now beginning to see a way out of the sorrow. His attraction to Skye was what he clung to now. There was life after Harper, and he didn’t want to get drawn back into the torture of watching her try to hide the whip marks and the bruises. God, she even had started cutting herself. Seeing her addicted to pain was something he abhorred. “I’ll meet you at 9 at Hardbodies, but don’t count on changing my mind. As long as you are involved in this scene – you and I are through.” He hung up before she could say anything else. Hell, he wished he had someone to talk to – but he was too ashamed to tell anyone the truth.

****

“You’ve been busy.” Isaac checked the receipts and notes that Levi had given him. “These are some really good ideas,” he complimented his employee.

“Tonight’s dance contest will just be the beginning. Next week we have the wet t-shirt contest, and after that the Jell-O-wrestling, the pool tournament and a games night which will consist of darts, arm wrestling and a Texas-Hold’em poker night.” Levi was excited. Isaac was pleased with the man, he was a good bartender, plus he had drive and determination. And no one could deny that the women loved his rugged good looks, and that never hurt. To top it off, he was becoming one of the finest Doms Isaac knew. Several other men had been asking to play in his dungeon, and Isaac was considering it. The only one he knew wouldn’t be joining them was Ajax; he was trouble waiting to happen.

“The mechanical bull will be here in a few days,” Levi’s comment brought Isaac back to the present - which was good, the less time he wasted thinking about Ajax the better. He was cruel, vindictive and blamed Isaac for getting thrown out of the BDSM clubs in Austin and San Antonio - and he was right. As long as Isaac had influence, a cruel Dom who mistreated his subs would be called down for their bad behavior.

“Good, I’m looking forward to trying that bull out, myself.”

“Boss, you need to see this.” Doris walked into his office and laid the Kerrville Daily Times in front of him. “Everybody is talking about it.” It took a second for Isaac’s eyes to focus on the photo and headline, but when he did he almost swallowed his tongue.

“What the hell?” Avery, his Avery, was standing in a line-up with several other women; all dolled up in what could only be hooker attire. And the headline read– ‘LOCAL PREACHER’S DAUGHTER JOINS A BROTHEL’. He stared – held it up close to his face `and squinted – then stared some more. Was this a joke? Flashbacks of last night ran through his head, especially her words – ‘I can do this, I’ve been practicing.’ Practicing, be damned! She was turning tricks! Even though he was seeing it, Isaac didn’t really believe it. There had to be some other explanation. Well, there was only one way to find out. “I’ll be back.” He stood and stalked out, paper in hand, leaving Doris and Levi standing there with their mouths open.

The Harley was just a streak as he tore down the street. Speed limits were irrelevant at the moment, besides – he was in tight with the sheriff and this was an emergency. Whipping into Avery’s motel, he bounded off his motorcycle, still clutching the newspaper. She had some explaining to do. He couldn’t imagine what was going on – but, more importantly, he needed to make sure she was all right. Rapping on the door, he waited. And waited. Damn! Just the thought of being near Avery had his cock misbehaving – ‘this isn’t a damn social call’, he reprimanded his errant manhood. Shit! She either wasn’t answering the door or she had checked out. What if something was wrong? There was only one-way to be sure. He knew Marvin, the owner, and he’d open the door and let him in to see.

A few minutes later, Isaac stood in the motel room and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her childish suitcase was still on the end of the bed. “I guess she’s just out somewhere.”

Marvin looked at him with a tired expression. “Suppose so. Do you want to leave a message?”

“No, no – I’ll check back later.” Getting back on his ride, Isaac tried to reason this out. First, there was that slip he had made in full view of the whole town when he had kissed her on Main Street. Lord, how many times had he relived that moment? But that pleasure had been eclipsed forever by the hot lovin’ he had enjoyed with her last night. What was he going to do? Every time he was with Avery, he hurt her. The first time had been the night in the bar when he had humiliated her by showing her the door, then lying to her about her sex appeal. The second time they were together, he had yelled in her face before the bar fight, and last night he had pushed her on the floor right after she had given him the best blowjob of his life. Growling his displeasure, he headed back to Hardbodies once again; having no idea how to find Avery or what he’d say to her if he did.

  Thankfully, the day passed swiftly.  Avery was never far from his thoughts, but he had things to do that he couldn't put off.  The article in the paper was another story. For now, as far as Isaac was concerned, it hadn’t happened.  He purposely refused to think about it.  His mind was numb on that topic. But everyone that came in who knew Avery or knew that he knew Avery had something to say about it. The whole damn thing made him furious. People had no right to gossip about something when they didn’t even know if it was true or not. Pictures could be photoshopped. Frankly, Isaac doubted the story – you couldn’t believe everything you read, anymore.

 When night fell, people began pouring into the bar.  The band was in fine form and the liquor was flowing like a fountain.  There was no sweeter sound than the cash register ringing up sale after sale.  It took both him and Levi to tend the bar, and the dance contest was in full swing by the time Isaac got around to focusing on it. Women of every form and fashion were putting on a show. Biker chicks, buckle bunnies, good-time girls, and a few regular hometown girls that didn’t mind strutting their stuff. Hell, why hadn’t he thought of it before? A night like this would be damn good for business. People loved to have a good time. 

 “Lord God Almighty,” Levi breathed as he watched Doris announce the next number. “It’s her.”