Reaper's Fall
Page 42
That’d do.
“Here’s the bathroom,” she said, pointing to a door at the top of the stairs. “And here is Jessica’s room. Mine’s at the far end of the hall, over the porch.”
I glanced down toward her door, the step up into her space. I wanted to see where she slept, but she pushed through to Jessica’s room instead. The place was all clothes thrown in piles across the shaggy green carpet and posters half falling off the walls. I had an ugly feeling the plaster was so weak it couldn’t hold them . . . The place felt about as solid as a wasp’s nest.
“The mirror’s on the back of the door,” Mel said, closing it behind us. She stood still, studying her image, and I came to stand behind her. The lines of green twisted across her body, spattered with flowers that bloomed and faded in a pattern I wished I could keep forever.
No, I wanted to keep her forever.
God, I deserved to be shot, because I wanted to defile her. Defile her and then lock her up so no other man could even see her, let alone touch her.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly, touching her face. I reached up, setting a hand on her shoulder. She covered it with her own, winding our fingers together. Her eyes burned through mine in the mirror, and that’s when my world shifted.
I’d fallen in love with Melanie Tucker.
Not some little-boy, bullshit needy “love” like I’d felt for Emmy Hayes—this was nothing like that. This was deep, almost painful in its unholy intensity. It was like she’d sent tendrils burrowing deep inside, binding us together so tightly I’d die if I ever tried to pull them out.
I was truly, deeply, and utterly fucked, because I fucking loved this girl . . . and she wasn’t for me.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Hey . . .” she whispered back.
“I think we should—”
Suddenly the door flew backward, knocking Mel right into me. My arms flew out to catch her as Taz lurched into the room, Jessica riding on his back.
He stilled, eyes crawling over Mel as I realized she’d lost the bra when she’d fallen.
“Nice artwork,” he said, grinning broadly. “But I think you missed a couple spots.”
I wrapped an arm across Mel’s chest, doing my best to cover her up. She gave a shriek. Then she was breaking free, running out the door to her bedroom as Jessica launched herself at me, smacking at my face while Taz laughed his ass off.
“You aren’t allowed to touch her,” Jess shrieked. I raised a hand to protect my eyes, wondering how the hell I’d ever considered this girl sexy enough for a drunken one-night stand. Could you even call it that? It’d been a partial, and a shitty partial at that.
“Get your woman off me,” I yelled at Taz, who laughed harder. Finally I managed to shake off the screaming banshee queen, shoving her toward Taz so I could go after Mel.
“I’ll kill you!” Jessica yelled behind me. Fucking witch. First Kit, now her. I was surrounded by devil women. Mel’s door was slammed shut, and I could hear her sobbing.
Fucking hell.
I’d broken her already, and I hadn’t even gotten laid first.
MELANIE
I lay back on my bed, laughing so hard it actually hurt. God, the look on Jessica’s face. The crazy hypocrisy and weirdness and the way I’d dropped my bra . . . it was all too much. And about time I freaked her out, too. She’d been freaking me out for years.
“Mel, are you okay?” Painter asked, knocking on my door. I gasped, trying to catch my breath to answer. It came out on a sob, and every time I tried to tell him I was fine, the words ate themselves and I would start laughing again.
Finally he pushed his way through the door, dropping down on the futon next to me to pull me into his arms. Then he rolled me on top, wrapping his body around mine.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, sounding all sweet and tender. I snorted, still incapable of catching my breath. “Mellie, it doesn’t matter what he saw. You’re okay.”
I clutched at his leather cut, pushing my head up so I could see him.
“I’m fine,” I gasped, although I was pretty sure there were tears running down my face, probably all mixed with paint. Attractive. His hands rubbed up and down my back, and my legs fell to either side of his hips. Oh hell. I could feel him there—exactly where I needed him—and he was longer and harder than any man had a right to be.
“I’m fine,” I repeated, sniffing. “I was laughing, Painter, not crying. It was just so funny. The look on Jessica’s face. You’d think she’d caught us screwing on her bed. And for the record, I’ve caught her having sex on my bed twice before, so she’d have no right to complain even if we had been . . .”
My voice trailed off as one of his hands dug into my ass, pulling me hard into his pelvis.
“You were laughing?” he asked very carefully.
“Yeah. It was funny. Didn’t you think it was funny?”
A slow grin started to steal across his face, and then he shook his head. “Well, yeah. But girls don’t usually laugh about shit like that.”
I smiled, letting my face drop against his chest.
“I’m not most girls.”
The leather of his club colors was rough against my nipples, and I thought about the look on Taz’s face as he took me in. Appreciation, although not in a creepy way. Felt kind of good, actually. Now I had those unpainted sections he’d so helpfully pointed out pushed up against Painter’s chest. Okay, I hadn’t exactly forgotten . . . but suddenly I was more aware of how my breasts felt rubbing against the fabric and leather covering his body. Then Painter’s hands found my ass, gripping it and giving a squeeze, sending thrills running through me.
“Here’s the bathroom,” she said, pointing to a door at the top of the stairs. “And here is Jessica’s room. Mine’s at the far end of the hall, over the porch.”
I glanced down toward her door, the step up into her space. I wanted to see where she slept, but she pushed through to Jessica’s room instead. The place was all clothes thrown in piles across the shaggy green carpet and posters half falling off the walls. I had an ugly feeling the plaster was so weak it couldn’t hold them . . . The place felt about as solid as a wasp’s nest.
“The mirror’s on the back of the door,” Mel said, closing it behind us. She stood still, studying her image, and I came to stand behind her. The lines of green twisted across her body, spattered with flowers that bloomed and faded in a pattern I wished I could keep forever.
No, I wanted to keep her forever.
God, I deserved to be shot, because I wanted to defile her. Defile her and then lock her up so no other man could even see her, let alone touch her.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly, touching her face. I reached up, setting a hand on her shoulder. She covered it with her own, winding our fingers together. Her eyes burned through mine in the mirror, and that’s when my world shifted.
I’d fallen in love with Melanie Tucker.
Not some little-boy, bullshit needy “love” like I’d felt for Emmy Hayes—this was nothing like that. This was deep, almost painful in its unholy intensity. It was like she’d sent tendrils burrowing deep inside, binding us together so tightly I’d die if I ever tried to pull them out.
I was truly, deeply, and utterly fucked, because I fucking loved this girl . . . and she wasn’t for me.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Hey . . .” she whispered back.
“I think we should—”
Suddenly the door flew backward, knocking Mel right into me. My arms flew out to catch her as Taz lurched into the room, Jessica riding on his back.
He stilled, eyes crawling over Mel as I realized she’d lost the bra when she’d fallen.
“Nice artwork,” he said, grinning broadly. “But I think you missed a couple spots.”
I wrapped an arm across Mel’s chest, doing my best to cover her up. She gave a shriek. Then she was breaking free, running out the door to her bedroom as Jessica launched herself at me, smacking at my face while Taz laughed his ass off.
“You aren’t allowed to touch her,” Jess shrieked. I raised a hand to protect my eyes, wondering how the hell I’d ever considered this girl sexy enough for a drunken one-night stand. Could you even call it that? It’d been a partial, and a shitty partial at that.
“Get your woman off me,” I yelled at Taz, who laughed harder. Finally I managed to shake off the screaming banshee queen, shoving her toward Taz so I could go after Mel.
“I’ll kill you!” Jessica yelled behind me. Fucking witch. First Kit, now her. I was surrounded by devil women. Mel’s door was slammed shut, and I could hear her sobbing.
Fucking hell.
I’d broken her already, and I hadn’t even gotten laid first.
MELANIE
I lay back on my bed, laughing so hard it actually hurt. God, the look on Jessica’s face. The crazy hypocrisy and weirdness and the way I’d dropped my bra . . . it was all too much. And about time I freaked her out, too. She’d been freaking me out for years.
“Mel, are you okay?” Painter asked, knocking on my door. I gasped, trying to catch my breath to answer. It came out on a sob, and every time I tried to tell him I was fine, the words ate themselves and I would start laughing again.
Finally he pushed his way through the door, dropping down on the futon next to me to pull me into his arms. Then he rolled me on top, wrapping his body around mine.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, sounding all sweet and tender. I snorted, still incapable of catching my breath. “Mellie, it doesn’t matter what he saw. You’re okay.”
I clutched at his leather cut, pushing my head up so I could see him.
“I’m fine,” I gasped, although I was pretty sure there were tears running down my face, probably all mixed with paint. Attractive. His hands rubbed up and down my back, and my legs fell to either side of his hips. Oh hell. I could feel him there—exactly where I needed him—and he was longer and harder than any man had a right to be.
“I’m fine,” I repeated, sniffing. “I was laughing, Painter, not crying. It was just so funny. The look on Jessica’s face. You’d think she’d caught us screwing on her bed. And for the record, I’ve caught her having sex on my bed twice before, so she’d have no right to complain even if we had been . . .”
My voice trailed off as one of his hands dug into my ass, pulling me hard into his pelvis.
“You were laughing?” he asked very carefully.
“Yeah. It was funny. Didn’t you think it was funny?”
A slow grin started to steal across his face, and then he shook his head. “Well, yeah. But girls don’t usually laugh about shit like that.”
I smiled, letting my face drop against his chest.
“I’m not most girls.”
The leather of his club colors was rough against my nipples, and I thought about the look on Taz’s face as he took me in. Appreciation, although not in a creepy way. Felt kind of good, actually. Now I had those unpainted sections he’d so helpfully pointed out pushed up against Painter’s chest. Okay, I hadn’t exactly forgotten . . . but suddenly I was more aware of how my breasts felt rubbing against the fabric and leather covering his body. Then Painter’s hands found my ass, gripping it and giving a squeeze, sending thrills running through me.
