Home : Stories by Catw00man/Stories by Zippit : MBN Universe : Outsider
Summary: Kevin wants what he can’t have.
AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: mbn@cryptoffic.com
RATING: NC-17
SERIES/SETTING: MBN Universe
CHARACTERS: Kevin Harvick, Dale Earnhardt Jr, Clint Bowyer, Martin Truex and Jeff Gordon, Kevin POV
PROMPT: Taming the Muse #26 (#1 for me) - The Great Unwashed; NASCAR_fic100 #68 Harsh Words
COMPLETED: January 20, 2007, Revised November 21, 2009
WORDS: 7,821
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ok…this is very different than anything I’ve done before. Basically this is inspired by an RP universe that is very much like a soap opera, ie everyone’s got a secret and the characters are definitely exaggerated a bit. But it’s all in fun. So if you’re in for drama, excitement and a little bending of the rules give it a try. Hopefully there will be much more to come because this is a VERY long story
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North Carolina Bar: September 27, 2005
I pull into the parking lot of the North Carolina bar so many of us frequent and scan the parking lot for familiar cars. I don’t see any at first so I park and kill the engine and just stare at the place that can honestly only be described as a dump. But it’s a dump off the main road, out of sight, and maybe that’s why we gravitate here. No one cares who we are.
Slide out of my Denali, head for the door and wonder if I’ll see him tonight…not that it matters. If he shows he’ll probably be surrounded by his boys or, even worse, the boy and I won’t even be able to get close. It’s a useless dream anyway, this pointless fantasy of mine. I’m just a friend, the eternal source of sarcasm. It’s not like anyone takes me seriously anyway.
And that’s the way I like it.
If you don’t let anyone get too close you won’t get burned. And I’ve been burned too many times to count.
Brief glance at the wedding band on my finger and I shake my head. I really need a drink, or maybe even a good fight. Anything to take my mind of the constant ache inside that no one can touch…or even knows is there. Catch sight of the door and start to make my way in when something catches my eye.
The Camaro.
Feel the burning rage and anger that always consume me when I see anything that reminds me of him build inside and I clench my fists. Eyes narrow to slits as I scan the old grey and blue paint and I have the irrational urge to key the hell out of it. I wonder which of his young teammates he’s seducing tonight, the psychotic, controlling bastard. I’d warn them, not that it would make a difference. He takes what wants, when he wants, and we all seem to let him. Dark smile curls my lips. Maybe tonight won’t be so boring after all.
Turn sharply and head into the dark club, my rage and pain filling me to the point that my skin feels like it’s on fire, but this is nothing new for me. I’m known for my temper, my flashes of irrational anger that I don’t even try to control. And why should I? A fight, an argument, rough out of control sex, it all can be so liberating. Not to mention I’ve discovered long ago that it’s no use trying to tame my wild side. It is what it is and I have no desire to be something I’m not.
Make my way through the smoky, dimly lit room over to the bar and order a shot of tequila and a beer. Knock the shot back immediately and then scan the bar, my eyes widening when I see a face I don’t expect, at least, not this late. Grab the cool long neck and make my way over to him, happy for the company even if it may just be for the moment.
“Hey Shifty, didn’t think Athena let you off the leash this late. What gives?” I ask him, familiar smirk on my face. I read his surprise and slight annoyance as he turns towards me and I know I shouldn’t be such an ass to one of the one true friends I have. But sometimes…I just can’t hold my tongue.
“She’s out with her sister, Harvick. Not that it’s any of your business,” he replies in a slightly aggravated tone. But as he looks me over and takes a drink of his own beer I can see him soften a little, eyes taking on a teasing glint and I know from experience I’m in for it. Clint gives as good as he gets. Which is probably why we get along as well as we do. “So what’s your story? D finally let you out of your cage?”
Snort and almost choke on my beer at his words and then grin back at him, eyes flashing mischievously as I reply smoothly, “They haven’t built a cage that can hold me yet.” Smirk at him before adding, “And don’t think plenty of people haven’t tried.”
I smile as he laughs and shakes his head before knocking back the rest of his beer. “You really are one of a kind Kev. They definitely broke the mold with you.”
“Of course they did,” I reply before draining my beer and motioning to the bartender for more. “Besides, the world couldn’t handle two people as hot, sexy and talented as me.” I grin and deliberately drawl out the “a” in talented leaving no doubt where my true talents lie, not that I’m propositioning him. No, he made it clear a long time ago he was a one woman man, straight as an arrow. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t fun to tease. Besides, who knows? He could always get the urge to experiment. Smirk and wink at him as the bartender brings new beers for each of us.
“In your dreams, Harvick,” he replies to my unspoken invitation as he reaches for his new beer. Then he pauses and seems to study me for a moment before finally asking a little softer and almost shyly. “I mean, you don’t really…”
He trails off and now it’s my turn to laugh. “Don’t worry Bowyer, you aren’t the leading role in my fantasies.” I see him visibly relax a little and I know it’s because he knows me better than most. He knows all too well my favorite pastime off the track…he’s walked in on it enough times. That’s why I can’t help but tease him again. “But if you wanted to make a guest appearance…”
I laugh again when he pushes at my shoulder and shakes his head. “Save your seduction for someone it’ll work on, Happy. I have all that I can handle at home,” he tells me but it’s not in anger. No, this is the same song and dance we always play and I’m grateful for it. I’m honestly glad I have someone in my life who truly wants nothing more from me than friendship because…that’s something my life is sorely lacking.
Turn away from him and lean back against the bar, pushing these negative thoughts from my head. I don’t need a lot of friends to make me happy. No, I find happiness wherever I can, however fleeting it may be…and there’s nothing wrong with that. Because it’s better to be happy for a moment than miserable for a lifetime…right? Bring my beer to my lips and start to take a drink and relax when someone entering the bar catches my eye and I freeze.
It’s him.
And for a moment I’m completely entranced.
To be honest I’ve always been attracted to red headed hard bodies. I guess I never was much for the bleached hair and bronzed skin I saw way too much of in my youth. Maybe it was because anyone who spent so much time worrying about their skin tone was too shallow to care about anything else. Either way, red heads have always caught my eye, and this one is no different. But that’s not why he owns the stage in my dreams. No, it’s something much deeper than that.
It’s his eyes.
Eyes filled with a fire and determination that match my own. Eyes so blue they could take your breath away and a passion that rages beneath the surface just begging to be let out of control. I want to revel in that passion and lose myself to the fire that I know burns so brightly. I want to feel that heat, consume myself in that fire until it burns me to the core…just like it’s doing now.
Frown and shift a little uncomfortably as I can already feel the semi-hard-on I always get when he’s in the room and try to shake it off. I shouldn’t let anyone get to me this way. No one gets to control me like this. I look over at him again and let out a soft growl when I see he’s not alone. No, he’s got his “boy” in tow and I know any chances I might have dreamed of are out the window for the night. Push back my disappointment and instead lean over to Clint and do what I always do when I’m uncomfortable…lose myself in my own sarcasm.
“Check it out. The Crown Prince of Nascar has decided to grace us with his presence,” I tell him as I elbow him none too lightly. I see Clint turn in their direction out of the corner of my eye and I can’t help myself. “I’ll betcha 20 they don’t make it across the room without putting their hands on each other.”
He turns to me and raises an eyebrow after catching sight of them at the door. Then he looks back and me with a grin and replies, “Even Junior’s got better sense than that. I’ll take that bet.”
I return his grin, clank the neck of my bottle to his and then take a drink, silently sealing the bet much like we have so many times before. As I watch them cross the room over to the darker end of the bar which is not too far from us, I can’t help but think how glad I really am that Clint is my teammate. It actually has been…nice…to have a real friend for once. But friend or not, I still think he’s going to lose this bet…unfortunately.
I study them closely as they walk over, moving much too close together and with a casual familiarity that I can’t help but envy. But I’m going to need more than comfortable friendship between them if I’m going to win this bet. Watch as they reach the dark end of the bar and his hand lightly brushes over Martin’s and I can feel the jealously curl inside as I grit my teeth.
It’s really not just the fact that this boy will probably be sharing his bed, if he isn’t already, that twists my guts up inside. Much as I might want his body and to touch that passion that comes off him in waves…I’d give even that up to somehow break into his tight circle of people around him that he keeps so close to his heart.
But I’m an outsider and I know I always will be.
Oh, we’re friends and all, have been ever since I became teammates with his dad. But there are friends and then there’s…his special group. His family and his “posse” that make his eyes light up in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, when you know how to look for it, and that makes me seethe with a jealously in a way I’ve never known because I know I don’t even stand a chance. But maybe…maybe one day I can find a way to get the smallest taste….
I watch him look around once they reach the end of the bar and I’m not sure if he notices me and Clint or if he just doesn’t care. But after he seems to assure himself no one is paying attention he leans in and presses a brief kiss to the kid’s lips…and I deal the only way I know how.
“Daaaaaaaaaamn, it’s like watching two bitches in heat,” I call out loud enough for them to hear, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I see Junior jump and Martin duck his head and I can instantly tell he’d expected my silence as he looks at me with a frown. But if I have to watch their sickening display, I’m at least going to get my two cents in. Besides, if I can’t be happy why should I have to watch them?
“Shut up, Happy,” the boy mutters and my eyes flash with venom as he dares to use even my “public” nickname. Isn’t it bad enough he gets to be one of the special ones? Now he thinks he gets to pretend he knows me?
I can feel Junior’s disapproving eyes on me as I hit Clint lightly on the chest and grin at him saying, “See? What did I tell you about those two?” I force my tone to be teasing, carefree and in complete contrast to the turmoil of emotions churning inside me. I shouldn’t push June so much, especially about his protégé, but I can’t help myself. It’s the only way I know how to cope.
“Alright, Harvick, you were right. Don’t let it go to your head,” Clint tells me as he shakes his head and pulls out his wallet, forking over a $20 to me. Then he turns to the bartender and takes that opportunity to pay his tab as well. As I pocket the money I hear his voice and I turn, instantly becoming mesmerized momentarily by Junior’s too blue eyes.
“I should be insulted by that,” he tells me as he eyes my prize money, but there’s not a trace malice in his gaze. He does know me, at least a little. Or maybe he just chooses not to think badly of me and doesn’t take my teasing to heart. Maybe that’s why we’ve always gotten along…for as little as I dare to go near him. I’m always afraid he’ll find me out. That he’ll someday read my eyes and know my true feelings, so I return his gaze with a smirk and hide under innuendos. One thing he should know by now is that I definitely find him desirable.
“What can I say?” I reply, practically leering at him as I stroke the neck of my beer slowly as it sits on the bar. “It’s my night already,” I practically purr as I raise the beer to my lips, tongue flicking across the mouth of the bottle before taking a slow swallow. I can feel his eyes on me, he’s watched me more than once, and I play up the seduction as much as I can even though he’s too far away and it’s just a meaningless game to him. I start to reply again but then the moment is shattered when Bowyer speaks to me again.
“I think I’m outta here for the night,” he tells me as he knocks back the rest of his beer and I wonder if his actions were intentional. He’s teased me more than once about my “crush” that I won’t acknowledge. I’m just glad he’s the only one…well, only one of two who know my secret. He’s just less condescending about it.
“Awwww, poor Shifty. Feeling that tug of the leash already?” I mock him, still annoyed by his intrusion into my game. I see him frown slightly and I can’t stop myself from going in for the kill. “You really are her whipped little puppy, aren’t you Bowyer? Always go running at the snap of her pretty little fingers?”
He turns and calmly sets his empty beer on the bar before turning to level me with his bright blue eyes, his back to Dale and Truex down the bar. His voice is lowered, for my ears only, and I find out once again he’s more than a match for my taunting. “Yeah, Harvick, I am running back to Athena. But you see, you can have your little games and torrid flings. I’ll be the one waking up with someone who loves me all curled around me.” He shoots me a condescending smile and then asks me, copying my mocking tone from earlier, “Now where does that leave you, Happy?”
His words cut deep for a moment, just like I know they were intended to, but still I know he wasn’t trying to be cruel. We’re…different, and I can’t deny that. So I reply exactly the way he expects me to, “Having a hell of a lot more fun then you, Shifty.” I finish off the rest of my beer and shrug at him. “I get enough bitching from D, I don’t need to add you and Athena to the mix,” I tease him and smirk, turning the conversation as best I can.
He stares at me for a moment and then shakes his head and laughs. Pushes me lightly on the shoulder and grins back at me as he replies, “You really are too much sometimes, Harvick.” Then he pushes away from the bar, shooting a glance down at Martin and Dale before smiling at me again and admonishing me, “Now don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
I grin back at him, relaxing when things return to the normal balance we’ve found with each other. I know on some level he looks down on me. He’s just too good of a friend to admit usually. “You know I will,” I tell him with a cheeky grin and he just shakes his head again.
“I’ll catch you later, Kev,” he says with a laugh and turns to head out. I give him a half hearted wave, move to order another drink and wonder if he really understands how much he gets under my skin. Shake my head as I take my fresh beer and look to see him exiting the bar. He’s too much of a nice guy to say the things he does if he knew how deep they cut…not that I wouldn’t deserve it.
I shake off these thoughts, the same way I always do, and turn to once again study the DEI boys. They’re huddled close at the end of the bar, heads bowed in a conversation too soft for me to hear. Their touch is friendly but tentative and I wonder just how far this “interoffice” romance has really gone…not that it matters. Even if I do win him for a night--or ten--which I swear I will, he’ll never let me in like that. I mean, why would anyone bare their heart to someone who doesn’t even have one?
I take a long drink of my beer and think about doing the right thing, think about leaving them to their conversation and giving them their privacy. But I can’t. Even though I know I should, I can’t. Watching him earlier and sparing with Clint has got me all wound up, and no one banters like an Earnhardt. My decision made, I snatch up my beer and head down the bar.
They’re both staring at each other with moon eyes as I approach, and I watch as Truex tilts his head towards the dance floor and says something quietly. Junior shakes his head and I watch Martin tug at his sleeve. He can’t possibly….
“No way in hell are you getting me out there,” June says as he glances to the dance floor again. Then looks back to Martin, still shaking his head and repeats himself more emphatically, “Nope. No way.”
I slide up behind Martin as he replies to Dale, still not noticing me, “You say that now, but after a couple of drinks I’m sure it won’t be that difficult.” I glance over his shoulder at Dale who does notice me and just shake my head as I proceed to do an abbreviated version of the Macarena.
Dale smiles, I’m sure holding back a laugh at my antics, and then arches an eyebrow at the boy. “Says the one that gets drunk faster than anything on this planet.”
I don’t even know if Truex responds because I can’t hold by my laughter, but I do catch his glare…which just eggs me on more. “Awwww is the poor rookie a lightweight?” I tease him and chuckle again.
Junior seems to be doing a poor job of smothering his own laughter and for an instant I’m caught up in his eyes as they honestly seem to sparkle. He really should laugh more often. Someone like him doesn’t deserve to be forced to carry the weight of the world--or his dad’s legacy--on his shoulders. Someone like him-
“I’m not a damn lightweight,” the boy snaps at me and forces me back into the moment, making me remember he’s even here. I feel the weight of his glare before I see it and it’s all I can do to control the sudden flare of temper that flashes through me at being pulled so suddenly from my thoughts and perusal of Dale. But, somehow, I hold it in and turn to look at him again.
I try to make my tone light and teasing as I pat him on the back. “Eaaasy Rook, don’t take it so personal. It’s not your fault you can’t run with the big dogs yet.”
“Funny Harvick…I never really saw you as the dog type.”
I look up to meet teasing blue eyes and the rest of the bar melts away. I grin back at him, intrigued by the very idea that he might think about my “type” even though I’m sure he’s just playing the game. But still…what if he’s not?
“Yeah?” I ask with smirk as I recline against the bar. “So what type did you see me as, June?” I practically purr back at him as I grab my beer and take a slow drink.
“You always seemed a little more feline to me,” he replies with that slightly crooked smile of his. Why is it always so easy with him? I swear I could play this game all night.
“Huh,” I say as I tilt my head in thought, pretending to really think over his words. “Well, I guess that makes me king of the jungle.” I smirk at him as my eyes flash and ask him suggestively, “So what does that make you?”
He chuckles and his grin broadens at my words as I see he’s trying to find a comeback of his own. But then he dips his head slightly as he runs his fingers through his red hair and I see a trace of that sweet southern boy he can never completely hide. No, no matter what the world seems to think, there’s still a little shyness in him and I can feel warmth flood through me at the sweet contradictions that seem to define him.
“Didn’t you always call me the ‘Prince’ of NASCAR?” he finally asks me, still with a hint of that sweetness but he covers it with a cocky grin that’s almost a match for my own.
“Works for me,” I drawl back at him as my eyes flash again. “I don’t mind you being my prince,” I continue with a wink and I can feel Martin’s eyes boring into me. I want to continue to ignore him but I know if I do I’m just going to end up pissing them both off. So, I finally give in and break my lingering gaze. Reach for my beer and finish it off before looking between them both and say, “I need a drink, how about you two?”
I watch Truex down the rest of his beer and mumble for another one as Dale just nods and motions with his hand. I glance at the scowling boy and once again I can’t help myself. “One more for the lightweight, coming up,” I tease and turn to motion for the bartender to come over as Junior’s chuckle warms me again.
A few moments later I turn back to them and pass out the beers, my hand lingering just a moment over Dale’s as he takes it and I grin at him, remembering their conversation from earlier. “So, how many beers do I have to buy before Junior’s on the dance floor?” I direct the question to Truex, but my eyes never leave Dale’s as a slow smirk crosses my lips.
“Too many for your wallet to handle,” he replies to me, holding my gaze for the moment. I take that moment to deliberately look him over…it’s all part of the game right?
“He’s bluffing,” Martin chimes in and once again I’m reminded that tonight is not the night for me to try and stake my claim, however small it might be. He’s here with the kid…and I’m just going to have to accept it.
So I laugh and turn my attention to my cold beer, taking a long slow drink before teasing them both again. “Hey, thanks to you two I’m up 20 bucks.” I glance back at Budweiser’s golden boy and chuckle. “Maybe you need to try something stronger than beer for once, Earnhardt?”
He shakes his head and snorts at me as he reaches for his beer like the good sponsor boy he is. Then he takes a drink and grins back at me, eyes sparkling with mischief, and I’m reminded of a kid looking for trouble when he taunts me, “Least I can last longer than you can.”
My eyes widen as he challenges me and I can’t keep from smirking back at him as I reply smoothly, “Ohhhhh, do I feel another bet coming on?” I can feel Martin’s eyes on me as I dangle the proposition in front of Dale and I suddenly turn to him and ask, “You want in on this, Truex?”
He seems taken by surprise, slight smile on his face fading when Dale chimes in with me. “Yeah, do you?” he asks the kid and I know he feels teamed up on as he shifts a little uncomfortably.
I can’t hold back my self satisfied smirk as he ducks his head and shakes it slightly. “Nah. I’m good.”
He really is so out of his league.
Chuckle softly and mock him once more, savoring the twist of the knife. “Yup, lightweight alright,” I tease as June and I share another laugh and silent smile. But apparently that was one step too far.
“I’m not a lightweight!” Martin snaps as his head jerks up and he glares at me. He knows, I think as his eyes briefly bore into mine. He knows I want this to be more than just a game. But I refuse to back down and continue to hold his gaze. “Fine. I’m in,” he practically growls at me.
“Your funeral,” I taunt him once more, still holding his gaze with an intense one of my own. If he wants to play, I’m definitely good to go.
“We’ll see,” he shoots back at me much softer as he finally breaks my gaze and I feel a surge of satisfaction at being the one to make him back down. But every ounce of that gratification is wiped away the instant I see June lean over to him and whisper soft in his ear. A slow smile spreads across Martin’s face as he turns to murmur back to Dale just as soft and I feel my heart drop.
I’m just a game.
A meaningless game.
And I should know better. I should know not to get my hopes up no matter how easily we get along. I’m not part of that closed circle. And no matter how many little glimpses he gives me…I’m still standing on the outside. Swallow hard and push it all back, shove it down deep inside and just go back to playing my part…the carefree jackass.
“Soooooo,” I draw out until I get both of their attention again, and it doesn’t escape my notice that they are definitely standing closer together again. But I hold back my disappointed sigh and ask flippantly, “Stakes?” Maybe I can find a way to get something out of this.
“Five to one odds, Martin drops first,” Junior replies to me and I laugh as the boy just turns to glare at him, pulling slightly away again.
“Oh, I’m so taking that,” I reply again as June smirks back at me and I internally curse my body’s instant reaction to that look. Why the fuck does he have such an effect on me?
“Why is everyone against me,” I hear the boy lament to himself and I completely shut him out, focusing only on Dale. Maybe, just maybe I can get something out of this.
“So, what are we playing for? Money?” My eyes lock with Dale’s and I give him a devious grin as I taunt him in a way I know he won’t resist. “Or do you wanna up the stakes?”
“Up ‘em stakes,” he says with a mischievous grin of his own. “We’re out for some fun tonight.”
My breath catches as his eyes flash so blue and I swear he really is a match for me. The boy says something, probably recognizing the look on Dale’s face, but I pay him no mind as I just let Junior hypnotize me with his eyes. “Whatcha got in mind Earnhardt?” I purr back at him as a million possibilities run through my mind. “How sure are you that you’re gonna win?”
“Pretty sure,” he replies instantly with a cocky grin and I don’t even think. I want him anyway I can get him and I’m even willing to share.
“So what are you willing to bet?” I ask and then glance at Truex suggestively. Maybe if I can get him to put the boy on the line I could get him to barter for something--someone--else. Because there is no way in hell I’ll ever lose this bet.
I hear Martin stammer as I look back to Dale and try to urge him on a little more. Maybe just maybe--
“Hey. Not going there, Kev,” Dale snaps at me sharply and I watch my hopes shatter as his eyes start to harden.
How dare he tease and taunt me that way and back down? How can he just turn on me so easy? Why do I always have to be on the outside? I feel my frustration rise and I cover the best I can with a mock pout and teasing words, “Knew you couldn’t hack it.”
He glares back at me and part of me wonders if he has any idea how that simple look cuts me more than anything else. More than Clint, more than D, hell more than even that fucker I know is around here somewhere. But I don’t back down. I can’t back down. Even when he hisses back at me.
“I’m not going to bet that. Over my dead body,” he spits at me and I know I’ve really crossed the line. Now I just have to wonder how long he’ll hold this against me. Inwardly sigh as I hope he doesn’t really question it…that he just chalks it up to me being an asshole slut.
“You realize I’m standing right here, right?” Truex seems to question us both and right now I just don’t have the patience for his shit.
I glance around, making a show of it, and finally respond mockingly, “Did you hear something?”
Truex then proceeds to flip me off and snarl at me, “Ass.”
But his words don’t touch me. I could care less about what he thinks. All I can think about are the blue eyes studying me way too hard. What if he sees through me? What if he figures out what I was really trying to do.
I can’t take the chance.
I take a breath and then play my part. The rejected. The one no one ever takes seriously. The “ass.” I force a laugh and shake my head at Dale before taking a pull from my beer. “Damn Dale,” I tell him, trying to just play it all off. “Don’t be so touchy. I was only kidding.” I pause for a moment, actually hating myself for what comes next, but I’ve played this character for too long. I have to seal the deal. “What, are you afraid I might rock his world?” Then I finish off my taunt with a laugh and I see a faint shade of pink creep into his cheeks. I just wonder if it’s anger or…something else.
“Forget it,” he snaps at me and storms off suddenly not even waiting for the boy. But just as I expected Truex doesn’t even try to face me. No one really does when I get like this. No, he does exactly what they all do…turns and leaves. And as I always do I watch them walk away, left alone to wallow in my frustrations and loneliness.
Finally I drop my head, the weight of it all crushing me for a moment. This is why I don’t let anyone in. This is why I play the callous, sarcastic jerk because as much as this hurts, it’d hurt a lot more if I really cared. I nod to myself and reach for my beer, taking a drink. That’s right. I don’t care. And if they think I’m not good enough for them, that I’m nothing but a manipulating little slut, then who am I t I pull into the parking lot of the North Carolina bar so many of us frequent and scan it for familiar cars. I don’t see any yet so I park, kill the engine and just stare at the place that can only be described as a dump. But it’s a dump off the main road, out of sight, and maybe that’s why we gravitate here. No one cares who we are.
Slide out of my Denali, head for the door and wonder if I’ll see him tonight…not that it matters. If he shows he’ll probably be surrounded by his boys or, even worse, the boy and I won’t be able to get close. It’s a useless dream anyway, this pointless fantasy of mine. I’m just a friend, the eternal source of sarcasm. It’s not like anyone takes me seriously anyway.
And that’s the way I like it.
If you don’t let anyone get too close you won’t get burned. And I’ve been burned too many times to count.
Brief glance at the wedding band on my finger and I shake my head. I need a drink, or maybe even a good fight. Anything to take my mind off the constant ache inside no one can touch…or even knows is there. Catch sight of the door and start to make my way in when something catches my eye.
The Camaro.
Feel the burning rage and anger that always consume me when I see anything that reminds me of him and clench my fists. Eyes narrow to slits as I scan the old grey and blue paint and I have the irrational urge to key the hell out of it. I wonder which of his young teammates the psychotic, controlling bastard is seducing tonight. I’d warn them, not that it would make a difference. He takes what he wants, when he wants, and we all seem to let him. Dark smile curls my lips. Maybe tonight won’t be so boring after all.
Turn sharply and head into the dark club, my rage and pain filling me to the point that my skin feels like it’s on fire, but that’s nothing new for me. I’m known for my temper, my flashes of irrational anger I don’t even try to control. And why should I? A fight, an argument, rough out of control sex, it all can be so liberating. Not to mention I’ve discovered long ago there’s no use trying to tame my wild side. It is what it is and I have no desire to be something I’m not.
Make my way through the smoky, dimly lit room over to the bar and order a shot of tequila and a beer. Knock the shot back immediately then scan the bar, my eyes widening when I see a face I don’t expect, at least, not this late. Grab the cool long neck and make my way over to him, happy for the company even if it may be brief.
“Hey Shifty, didn’t think Athena let you off the leash this late. What gives?” I ask him, familiar smirk on my face. There’s surprise and slight annoyance on his face as he turns towards me and I know I shouldn’t be such an ass to one of the few true friends I have. But sometimes…I just can’t hold my tongue.
“She’s out with her sister, Harvick. Not that it’s any of your business,” (he replies in a slightly aggravated tone. But as he looks me over and takes a drink of his own beer I can see him soften a little, eyes taking on a teasing glint and I know from experience I’m in for it. Clint gives as good as he gets. Which is probably why we get along as well as we do. “So what’s your story? D finally let you out of your cage?”
Snort and almost choke on my beer at his words then grin back at him as I reply smoothly, “They haven’t built a cage that can hold me yet.” Smirk at him before adding, “And don’t think plenty of people haven’t tried.”
I smile as he laughs and shakes his head before knocking back the rest of his beer. “You really are one of a kind, Kev. They definitely broke the mold with you.”
“Of course they did,” I reply. Drain my beer then motioning to the bartender for more. “Besides, the world couldn’t handle two people as hot, sexy and talented as me.” Grin and deliberately drawl out the “a” in talented leaving no doubt where my true talents lie, not that I’m propositioning him. No, he made it clear a long time ago he was a one woman man, straight as an arrow. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t fun to tease. Besides, who knows? He could always get the urge to experiment. Smirk and wink at him as the bartender brings new beers for each of us.
“In your dreams, Harvick,” he replies to my unspoken invitation as he reaches for his new beer. Then he pauses and studies me for a moment before finally asking a little softer and almost shyly, “I mean, you don’t really….”
He trails off and now it’s my turn to laugh. “Don’t worry, Bowyer, you aren’t the leading role in my fantasies.” He visibly relaxes and I know it’s because he knows me better than most. He knows all too well my favorite pastime off the track…he’s walked in on it enough times. That’s why I can’t help but tease him again. “But if you wanted to make a guest appearance…”
Laugh again when he pushes at my shoulder and shakes his head. “Save your seduction for someone it’ll work on, Happy. I have all I can handle at home,” he tells me but it’s not in anger. No, this is the same song and dance we always play and I’m grateful for it. I’m honestly glad I have someone in my life who truly wants nothing more from me than friendship because…that’s something my life is sorely lacking.
Turn away from him and lean back against the bar, pushing those thoughts from my head. I don’t need a lot of friends to make me happy. No, I find happiness wherever I can, however fleeting it may be…and there’s nothing wrong with that. Because it’s better to be happy for a moment than miserable for a lifetime…right? Bring my beer to my lips and start to take a drink when someone entering the bar catches my eye and I freeze.
It’s him.
And for a moment I’m completely entranced.
To be honest, I’ve always been attracted to red headed, hard bodies. I guess I never was much for the bleached hair and bronzed skin I saw way too much of in my youth. Maybe it was because anyone who spent so much time worrying about their skin tone was too shallow to care about anything else. Either way, red heads have always caught my eye, and this one is no different. But that’s not why he owns the stage in my dreams. No, it’s something much deeper than that.
It’s his eyes.
Eyes filled with a fire and determination that match my own. Eyes so blue they could take your breath away and a passion that rages beneath the surface just begging to be let out of control. I want to revel in that passion and lose myself to the fire I know burns so brightly. I want to feel that heat, consume myself in that fire until it burns me to the core…just like it’s doing now.
Frown and shift a little uncomfortably as I can already feel the semi-hard-on I always get when he’s in the room and try to shake it off. I shouldn’t let anyone get to me this way. No one gets to control me like this. I look over at him again and let out a soft growl when I see he’s not alone. No, he’s got his “boy” in tow and I know any chances I might’ve dreamed of are out the window for the night. Push back my disappointment and instead lean over to Clint and do what I always do when I’m uncomfortable…lose myself in my own sarcasm.
“Check it out. The Crown Prince of NASCAR has decided to grace us with his presence,” I tell him and elbow him none too lightly. I see Clint turn in their direction out of the corner of my eye and can’t help myself. “I’ll betcha 20 they don’t make it across the room without putting their hands on each other.”
He turns to me and raises an eyebrow after catching sight of them at the door then he looks back at me with a grin. “Even Junior’s got better sense than that. I’ll take that bet.”
I return his grin, clank the neck of my bottle to his then take a drink, silently sealing the bet much like we have so many times before. As I watch them cross the room over to the darker end of the bar not too far from us, I can’t help but think how glad I am that Clint is my teammate. It actually has been…nice…to have a real friend. But friend or not, I still think he’s going to lose this bet…unfortunately.
I study them closely as they walk over, moving much too close together and with a casual familiarity I can’t help but envy. But I’m going to need more than comfortable friendship between them if I’m going to win this bet. Watch as they reach the dark end of the bar and as his hand lightly brushes over Martin’s I feel the jealously curl inside me and grit my teeth.
It’s not just the fact this boy will probably be sharing his bed, if he isn’t already, that twists my guts up inside. Much as I might want his body and to touch the passion that comes off him in waves…I’d give it up to somehow break into his tight circle of people he keeps so close to his heart.
But I’m an outsider and I know I always will be.
Oh, we’re friends and all, have been ever since I became teammates with his dad. But there are friends and then there’s…his special group. His family and his “posse” that make his eyes light up in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, when you know how to look for it, and that makes me seethe with a jealousy in a way I’ve never known because I know I don’t stand a chance. But maybe…maybe one day I can find a way to get the smallest taste….
Watch him look around once they reach the end of the bar and I’m not sure if he notices me and Clint or if he just doesn’t care. But after he seems to assure himself no one is paying attention he leans in and presses a brief kiss to the kid’s lips…and I deal the only way I know how.
“Daaaaaaaaaamn, it’s like watching two bitches in heat,” I call out loud enough for them to hear, my mocking voice dripping with sarcasm. I see Junior jump and Martin duck his head and I can instantly tell he’d expected my silence as he looks at me with a frown. But if I have to watch their sickening display, I’m at least going to get my two cents in. Besides, if I can’t be happy why should I have to watch them?
“Shut up, Happy,” the boy mutters and my eyes flash with venom as he dares to use even my “public” nickname. Isn’t it bad enough he gets to be one of the special ones? Now he thinks he gets to pretend he knows me?
I can feel Junior’s disapproving eyes on me as I hit Clint lightly on the chest and grin. “See? What did I tell you about those two?” I force my tone to be teasing, carefree and in complete contrast to the turmoil of emotions churning inside. I shouldn’t push June so much, especially about his protégé, but I can’t help myself. It’s the only way I know how to cope.
“Alright, Harvick, you were right. Don’t let it go to your head,” Clint tells me as he pulls out his wallet and forks over $20. Then he turns to the bartender and takes the opportunity to pay his tab as well. As I pocket the money I hear his southern drawl and turn, instantly becoming mesmerized by Junior’s too blue eyes.
“I should be insulted by that,” he tells me as he eyes my prize money, but there’s not a trace of malice in his gaze. He does know me, at least a little. Or maybe he just chooses not to think badly of me and doesn’t take my teasing to heart. Maybe that’s why we’ve always gotten along…for as little as I dare to go near him. I’m always afraid he’ll find me out. That he’ll someday read my eyes and know my true feelings, so I return his gaze with a smirk and hide under innuendos. One thing he should know by now is that I definitely find him desirable.
“What can I say?” I reply, practically leering at him as I stroke the neck of my beer slowly. “It’s my night already,” I nearly purr as I raise the beer to my lips, tongue flicking across the mouth of the bottle before taking a slow swallow. I can feel his eyes on me, he’s watched me like this more than once, and I play up the seduction as much as I can even though he’s too far away and it’s just a meaningless game to him. I start to reply again but then the moment’s shattered when Bowyer speaks to me again.
“I think I’m outta here for the night.” He knocks back the rest of his beer and I wonder if his actions were intentional. He’s teased me more than once about the “crush” I won’t acknowledge. I’m just glad he’s the only one…well, only one of two who know my secret. He’s just less condescending about it.
“Awwww, poor Shifty. Feeling the tug of the leash already?” I mock him, still annoyed by his intrusion into my game. He frowns a bit and I can’t stop myself from going in for the kill. “You really are her whipped little puppy, aren’t you Bowyer? Always go running at the snap of her pretty little fingers?”
He turns and calmly sets his empty bottle on the bar before turning to level me with his gaze, his back to Dale and Truex down the bar. His voice is lowered, for my ears only, and I find out once again he’s more than a match for my taunting. “Yeah, Harvick, I am running back to Athena. But you see, you can have your little games and torrid flings. I’ll be the one waking up with someone who loves me all curled around me.” He shoots me a condescending smile then asks me, copying my mocking tone from earlier, “Now where does that leave you, Happy?”
His words cut deep, like I know they were intended to, but still I know he wasn’t trying to be cruel. We’re…different, and I can’t deny that. So I reply exactly the way he expects me to, “Having a hell of a lot more fun than you, Shifty.” Finish off the rest of my beer and shrug at him. “I get enough bitching from D, I don’t need to add you and Athena to the mix.” Make sure to keep my tone light because there’s no way I’m letting him know how much his dig got to me.
He stares at me for a beat then shakes his head and laughs. He pushes me lightly on the shoulder and grins back as he replies, “You really are too much sometimes, Harvick.” Then he pushes away from the bar, shooting a glance down at Martin and Dale before smiling at me again and admonishing, “Now don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
I smirk back at him, relaxing when things return to the normal balance we’ve found with each other. I know on some level he looks down on me. He’s just too good of a friend to admit usually. “You know I will,” I tell him with a cheeky grin and he just rolls his eyes.
“I’ll catch you later, Kev,” he says with a laugh and turns to head out. I give him a half hearted wave then turn to order another drink. I wonder if he understands how much he gets under my skin. Shake my head as I take my fresh beer and look to see him exiting the bar. He’s too much of a nice guy to say the things he does if he knew how deep they cut…not that I wouldn’t deserve it.
Push these thoughts away, same as I always do, and turn to once again study the DEI boys. They’re huddled close at the end of the bar, heads bowed in a conversation too soft for me to hear. Their touch is friendly but tentative and I wonder how far this “interoffice” romance has really gone…not that it matters. Even if I do win him for a night--or ten--which I swear I will, he’ll never let me in like that. I mean, why would anyone bare their heart to someone who doesn’t even have one?
I take a long drink of my beer and think about doing the right thing, think about leaving them to their conversation and giving them their privacy. But I can’t. Even though I know I should, I can’t. Watching him earlier and sparing with Clint has got me all wound up, and no one banters like an Earnhardt. My decision made, I snatch up my beer and head down the bar.
They’re both staring at each other with moon eyes as I approach, and I watch as Truex tilts his head towards the dance floor and says something quietly. Junior shakes his head quickly and I watch Martin tug at his sleeve. He can’t possibly….
“No way in hell are you getting me out there,” June says as he glances to the dance floor again then looks back to Martin. He’s still shaking his head, as he repeats himself more emphatically, “Nope. No way.”
Slide up behind Martin as he replies to Dale, still not noticing me, “You say that now, but after a couple of drinks I’m sure you could handle it.” Glance over his shoulder at Dale who does notice me and wink at him as I proceed to do an abbreviated version of the Macarena.
Dale smiles, I’m sure holding back a laugh at my antics, and then arches an eyebrow at the boy. “Says the one that gets drunk faster than anything on this planet.”
I don’t even know if Truex responds because I can’t hold back my laughter, but I do catch his glare…which eggs me on more. “Awwww is the poor rookie a lightweight?” I tease him and chuckle again.
Junior does a poor job of smothering his own laughter and for an instant I’m caught up in his eyes as they honestly seem to sparkle. He really should laugh more often. Someone like him doesn’t deserve to be forced to carry the weight of the world--or his dad’s legacy--on his shoulders. Someone like him--
“I’m not a damn lightweight,” the boy snaps and forces me back into the moment, making me remember he’s here. I feel the weight of his glare before I see it and it’s all I can do to control the sudden flare of temper that flashes through me at being pulled so suddenly from my thoughts of Dale. But, somehow, I hold it in and turn to look at him again.
Try to make my tone light and teasing as I pat him on the back. “Eaaasy Rook, don’t take it so personal. It’s not your fault you can’t run with the big dogs yet.”
“Funny, Harvick…I never saw you as the dog type.”
Look up to meet teasing blue eyes and just as before the rest of the bar melts away. I grin back at him, intrigued by the very idea he might think about my “type” even though I’m sure he’s just playing the game. But still…what if he’s not?
“Yeah?” Smirk and recline against the bar. “So what type did you see me as, June?” I purr back as I grab my beer and take a slow drink.
“You always seemed a little more feline to me,” he replies with that slightly crooked smile of his. Why is it always so easy with him? I swear I could play this game all night.
“Huh.” Tilt my head in thought, pretending to think over his words. “Well, I guess that makes me king of the jungle.” Smirk at him and lean forward a bit as I ask suggestively, “So what does that make you?”
He chuckles and his grin broadens at my words as he tries to find a comeback of his own. But then he dips his head slightly as he runs his fingers through his hair and I shoot a glance at Martin. He’s worried about what the boy thinks of all this and I really don’t care. But that’s me. He actually gives a shit about what people think of him no matter how well he can play the game and I feel warmth flood through me at the sweet contradictions that seem to define him.
“Didn’t you always call me the ‘Prince’ of NASCAR?” he finally asks me, still with a hint of hesitation but he covers it with a cocky grin that’s almost a match for my own.
“Works for me,” I drawl back at him as I run my eyes over him. “I don’t mind you being my prince.” Wink at him and I feel Martin’s eyes boring into me. I want to keep ignoring him but I know if I do I’m going to end up pissing them both off. So, I finally give in and break my lingering gaze. Reach for my beer and finish it off before looking between them both. “I need a drink, how about you two?”
Watch Truex down the rest of his beer and mumble for another one as Dale just nods and motions with his hand. Glance at the scowling boy and once again I can’t help myself. “One more for the lightweight, coming up.” Then I turn and motion for the bartender as Junior’s chuckle warms me again.
A few moments later I turn back to them and pass out the beers, my hand lingering a moment over Dale’s when he takes it and I grin as I remember their conversation from earlier. “So, how many beers do I have to buy before Junior’s on the dance floor?” I direct the question to Truex, but my eyes never leave Dale’s as a slow smirk crosses my lips.
“Too many for your wallet to handle,” he replies to me, holding my gaze. I take the opportunity to deliberately look him over…it’s all part of the game right?
“He’s bluffing,” Martin chimes in and once again I’m reminded that tonight is not the night for me to try and stake my claim, however small it might be. He’s here with the kid…and I’m just going to have to accept it.
So I laugh and turn my attention to my cold beer, taking a long slow drink before teasing them both again. “Hey, thanks to you two I’m up 20 bucks.” Glance back at Budweiser’s golden boy and chuckle. “Maybe you need to try something stronger than beer for once, Earnhardt?”
He shakes his head and snorts as he reaches for his beer like the good sponsor boy he is. Then he takes a drink and grins back at me, eyes sparkling with mischief, and I’m reminded of a kid looking for trouble. “Least I can last longer than you can.”
My eyes widen and I can’t keep from smirking back as I reply smoothly, “Ohhhhh, do I feel another bet coming on?” I feel Martin’s eyes on me as I dangle the proposition in front of Dale and I suddenly turn to him and ask, “You want in on this, Truex?”
He’s obviously taken by surprise, the slight smile on his face fading when Dale chimes in with me. “Yeah, do you?” he asks the kid and I can tell he feels teamed up on as he shifts a little uncomfortably.
I can’t hold back my self satisfied smirk as he ducks his head and shakes it slightly. “Nah. I’m good.”
He really is so out of his league.
Chuckle softly and mock him once more, savoring the twist of the knife. “Yup, lightweight alright.” June and I share another laugh and silent smile, but apparently that was one step too far.
“I’m not a lightweight!” Martin snaps as his head jerks up and he glares at me. He knows, I think as his eyes bore into mine. He knows I want this to be more than just a game. But I refuse to back down and continue to hold his gaze. “Fine. I’m in,” he growls at me.
“Your funeral.” Continue to hold his gaze with an intense one of my own. If he wants to play, I’m definitely good to go.
“We’ll see,” he shoots back at me much softer as he finally breaks my gaze and I feel a surge of satisfaction at being the one to make him back down. But every ounce of that gratification is wiped away the instant June leans over to whisper soft in his ear. A slow smile spreads across Martin’s face as he turns to murmur back to Dale just as soft and I feel my heart drop.
I’m just a game.
A meaningless game.
And I should know better. I should know not to get my hopes up no matter how easily we get along. I’m not part of that closed circle. And no matter how many little glimpses he gives me…I’m still standing on the outside. Swallow hard and push it all back, shove it down deep inside and go back to playing my part…the carefree jackass.
“Soooooo,” I draw out until I get their attention again, and it doesn’t escape my notice they’re definitely standing closer together again. Hold back my disappointed sigh and ask flippantly, “Stakes?” Maybe I can find a way to get something out of this.
“Five to one odds, Martin drops first,” Junior replies and I laugh as the boy turns to glare at him, pulling slightly away again.
“Oh, I’m so taking that,” I reply as June smirks back and I internally curse my body’s instant reaction to his look. Why the fuck does he have such an effect on me?
“Why is everyone against me?” I hear the boy whine and I completely shut him out, focusing on Dale. Maybe, just maybe I can get something out of this.
“So, what are we playing for? Money?” My eyes lock with Dale’s and I give him a devious grin as I taunt him in a way I know he won’t resist. “Or do you wanna up the stakes?”
“Up ‘em stakes,” he says with a mischievous smile of his own. “We’re out for some fun tonight.”
My breath catches as his eyes flash so blue and I swear he really is a match for me. The boy says something, probably recognizing the look on Dale’s face, but I pay him no mind as I let Junior hypnotize me with his eyes. “Whatcha got in mind, Earnhardt?” I purr back as a million possibilities run through my mind. “How sure are you that you’re gonna win?”
“Pretty sure,” he replies instantly with a cocky grin and I don’t even think. I want him anyway I can get him and I’m even willing to share.
“So what are you willing to bet?” Glance over at Truex suggestively. Maybe if I can get him to put the boy on the line I could get him to barter for something--someone--else. Because there is no way in hell I’ll ever lose this bet.
I hear Martin stammer as I look back to Dale and try to urge him on a little more. Maybe just maybe--
“Hey. Not going there, Kev,” Dale snaps sharply and I watch my hopes shatter as his eyes harden.
How dare he tease and taunt me that way only to back down? How can he turn on me so easy? Why do I always have to be on the outside? Feel my frustration rise and I cover the best I can with a mock pout and teasing words, “Knew you couldn’t hack it.”
He glares back at me and part of me wonders if he has any idea how that simple look cuts me more than anything else. More than Clint, more than D, hell more than even that fucker I know is around here somewhere. But I don’t back down. I can’t back down. Even when he hisses back at me.
“I’m not going to bet that. Over my dead body,” he spits and I know I’ve really crossed the line. Now I have to wonder how long he’ll hold this against me. Inwardly sigh as I hope he doesn’t question it…that he just chalks it up to me being an asshole slut.
“You realize I’m standing right here, right?” Truex questions us both and right now I don’t have the patience for his shit.
I glance around, making a show of it, then mock him. “Did you hear something?”
Truex proceeds to flip me off and snarl, “Ass.”
But his words don’t touch me. I could care less about what he thinks. All I can think about are the blue eyes studying me way too hard. What if he sees through me? What if he figures out what I was really trying to do?
I can’t take the chance.
Take a breath and play my part. The rejected. The one no one ever takes seriously. The “ass.” Force a laugh and shake my head at Dale before taking a pull from my beer. “Damn Dale,” I tell him, trying to play it all off. “Don’t be so touchy. I was only kidding.” I pause for a beat, actually hating myself for what comes next, but I’ve played this character for too long. I have to seal the deal. “What, are you afraid I might rock his world?” Finish off my taunt with a laugh and see a faint shade of pink creep into his cheeks. I just wonder if it’s anger or…something else.
“Forget it,” he snaps and storms off, not even waiting for the boy. But as I expected Truex doesn’t try to face me. No one does when I get like this. No, he does exactly what they all do…turns and leaves. And as I always do I watch them walk away, left alone to wallow in my frustrations and loneliness.
Drop my head, the weight of it all crushing me. This is why I don’t let anyone in. This is why I play the callous, sarcastic jerk because as much as this hurts, it’d hurt a lot more if I really cared. I nod to myself and reach for my beer, taking a drink. That’s right. I don’t care. And if they think I’m not good enough for them, that I’m nothing but a manipulating little slut, then who am I to disappoint?
Raise my head and look to the back of the club where I know he’s got to be hiding with his latest conquest. I hesitate for just a moment, each time having sworn it would be the last. But I know better. We both do. We both crave the twisted brutality we find in each other and right now…right now I need to hurt.
Decision made I don’t look back. I never do, not when I’ve made up my mind, and I head to the back of the club. Scan the darkened booths, not seeing him at first and I try to remember if I saw him slip out. But then I see one of his young teammates--Boston? Blake? Who remembers?--heading to the bar with two glasses in hand and I know I’ve got my chance.
Take off instantly in the direction the boy came from and I finally spot him smoking alone in a dark booth. I don’t even think, just slide in beside him and smirk, asking too cheerfully, “Having fun, Wonderboy?”
He turns his attention from watching where the kid went to glare at me and replies with clipped words, “Really not in the mood, Havoc.”
Shift slightly in my seat and take a long drink from my beer as the game begins again…but at least I know how this one ends. I look at him smoking slowly and part of me hates how the name he made for me both turns me on and makes me hate him all at once. But I know how this goes, and I know how to get what I want so I bait him with a grin. “Awww what’s wrong? Got a headache?”
“For you? Always,” he replies instantly and a slight smirk crosses his lips. He enjoys, no, he needs this sparing match as much as I do, especially since I know he hates me. I’m under no illusions about him. Those blue eyes couldn’t be more different from the ones I see in my dreams. They’re so…cold. Empty. And I’ve never asked what made them that way. Something tells me I wouldn’t like the answer.
Watch him scan the club, probably for the kid, and I continue the game by teasing him, “What’s wrong, lose your pet?”
“Jealous?” he sneers back and I swear I want to strangle him. He’s no different than me. But instead of faces with no names he plays his twisted games on the young blood in his own shop. Part of me wonders how long this one will last, while the other half of me wishes I was the one getting a turn…and I know he knows it. Those hard eyes don’t miss much.
So I shrug slightly and answer, telling him what he wants to hear. “Ok, so, maybe I’m a little jealous,” I admit, knowing how much he loves his ego stroked…and I’m going to have to do a lot more of that to get what I want tonight. Lean a little closer and tell him in a lower voice, “You didn’t have to bring the kid you know.”
Feel his hand move along my thigh under the table and he grips me suddenly, silently letting me know I won’t be walking away just yet. His voice is smooth as he leans close to my ear and I can’t hold back a shiver. “What’s wrong? Junior and Truex shoot you down already?”
He knew. The fucking bastard knew exactly what I was after…like he always does. The son of a bitch. He was probably watching the whole thing. Take a breath. Anger right now will work against me and I know it. It has to be on his terms. So I dip my head down and pout slightly as I murmur back to him, letting him know he was right. “No one wants to play.”
He nods and pulls me further back in the booth, but this isn’t what I want. His boy will be back before we know it and I’ll be cast aside, even as I feel his breath at my ear, tongue darting out to tease. So I lean into him, pressing closer and purr low in his ear, “C’mon, wouldn’t you like to find some place more private, Wonderboy?” Scoot even closer and slide my hand up his chest, pushing as much as I dare. “You know you wanna….”
Then I lean forward as he captures my lips with his and the fire ignites between us the way it always does. His lips are commanding and possessive as he plunders my mouth, and his hands are hard, bruising as he grips me tight…just the way I want him to. In only seconds the “kiss” has grown out of control and we’re both squirming uncomfortably with need.
Finally break the kiss, panting harshly and stare into eyes that right now I wish weren’t so blue. Hold his gaze for a long moment then ask him, still a little breathless, “So…what’ll it be? Me? Or the kid?” I don’t even have to wait for his answer because I already know what it’ll be.
He growls low and pushes me to the front of the booth, eyes flashing an even deeper shade of blue as he takes control…the way he always does. I barely make it to my feet before he’s out of the booth and dragging me by my wrist to the back of the club. I don’t even try to resist and why would I? This is what I am, after all. The lowest of the low, taking whatever’s offered. They don’t even have to say it. It’s in their eyes. Every one of them.
He pulls me with him into the men’s room and pushes me in ahead of him, following after me a moment later. Take a step back as he stalks towards me and I can’t help but lick my lips at the wild look in his eyes. I do know how this game ends, and it’s time to play my part. “So what, Gordon? You gonna screw my brains out right here?”
A dark smile curls his lips as he makes his way towards me and I don’t think he could look more like a predator. His voice is lower and harsher than most of the world has probably ever heard and I know I’m sick for the way it makes me feel. “You like the danger, don’t you Havoc?” He’s right against me now and his hands are on my chest, fingers curling then scratching me through my shirt. “It turns you into such a whore.” He sneers and pushes me backwards inside a bathroom stall.
God I hate him for being right but right now I’m so hard I swear I could pound nails. I need this, just as much as he does and, fuck…I hope he makes it hurt. Maybe it will drown out the pain I’m always ignoring inside. “So I’m a bitch,” I snap back as he continues to advance on me. “At least I get to have a little fun.”
He grabs me with no warning and slams me back against the metal partition separating the stalls, and I wince as something sharp digs into my lower back. But as his lips attack mine again I don’t care. I need to just…feel. And he’s more than capable of helping me with that.
I reach down, making quick work of his belt and unzip his jeans. Quickly slide a hand inside, knowing I’ll find bare skin and his hard cock more than ready for me. I wrap my hand tight around him, squeezing him roughly and now it’s my turn to growl. “C’mon, Wonderboy…” I drawl knowing he has the same love/hate feeling about that nickname as I do mine. “Show me what you’ve got.”
As always it doesn’t take much to get him to lose control and before I know it I’m slamming my hands against the wall in self defense as he bends me over the toilet. Straddle it the best I can as I feel him tearing my jeans down and hiss as his nails dig into tender flesh…but God it turns me on. I lower my head in both desire and defeat as he takes over, and my nails claw against the painted cinder block walls. I don’t even realize I’m already moaning until I hear his cruel, mocking words.
“You’re such a damn whore, Havoc,” he taunts as he shoves my jeans down to my ankles and strokes me slowly. Bite my lip hard as he teasingly rubs his damp cock against my ass and I know damn well this is gonna hurt. He’s just mocking me, stroking my own hard flesh almost tenderly now and I know what he’s waiting for. He wants me to beg.
Fucking bastard.
“Stop screwing around and just fuck me, you bastard,” I snarl and I hope to hell that’s good enough. Haven’t I been degraded enough tonight? I wish he would just--
A low scream is torn from my throat as he ruthlessly pushes his way inside me and a wave of heat engulfs me along with the pain. Bite my lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, and tremble hard as he smacks my ass once he’s finally inside. Feel nails run down my back and I push back against him, silently begging for more and he doesn’t disappoint.
I know I’m twisted. I’ve known this for a long time now. Normal people don’t get off on pain the way I do. Hell, normal people don’t get off on causing it either. But I’ve finally learned to just accept my demented desires. Oh, I don’t have to have pain to get off. But sometimes…sometimes I just need to be hurt.
Feel my nails tear as I claw the wall and I can’t hold back low grunts of pleasure and pain as he slams into me again and again until I can’t even think. Let go. Fall. Lose myself to the excruciating feeling of being torn in two and finally the crystal blue eyes of my dreams fade away…if only for the moment. “Fuck Jeff….” Groan deeply and my words are met with a sharp bite at my shoulder and I know he’s getting closer. His hand is around me, stroking me hard, brutally just like his pounding thrusts and I know it won’t belong for either of us.
“C’mon you son of a bitch…” he snarls at me and I give over to his need to dominate completely…something I only do with him. He’s the only one I allow to treat me this way, and that’s only because of the sweet brutality I receive in return. “Come,” he hisses sharply and I can’t deny him even if I wanted to…and part of me does.
Suck in a sharp breath then bite my tongue hard, this time drawing a little blood in my efforts to keep from letting out a howl as release claims me. Shake hard, gasping for breath as he continues to slam into me a few more times before he’s moaning his own completion. Hiss as he pulls sharply from me, and I don’t even have a chance to catch my breath before he’s spun me around, twisting me up, as he crushes his lips to mine.
Do my best to accommodate him as I somehow get turned around without falling and kiss him back, taking comfort in the familiarity. If he’d just give in…. But I don’t let myself even finish that thought because I know where it leads. Instead I break the kiss and gaze at him with eyes still glazed with passion and smirk. “Told ya you needed a real man.”
Watch a slow smile cross his face he strokes my face almost tenderly. I start to return the smile with one of my own when he finally speaks and pulls back. “Then where does that leave you?” He smiles evilly at me as he backs out of the stall and fastens his jeans.
“Bastard,” I growl at him, letting the familiar hatred fill me as my eyes narrow. I should’ve known not to expect more from him. I swear I hate that smug son of a bitch.
“What did you expect?” he says as he fastens his belt and smoothes his hair. “You might want to clean yourself up there, Havoc. You’re filthy.” He looks at me, disgust plain on his face before he turns and storms out the door.
Hear the door close and lean heavily against the stall before using toilet paper to clean myself up the best I can. Pull my jeans up and fasten them gingerly before making my way out of the stall and over to the sink, deliberately avoiding my gaze in the mirror as I wash my hands. As I turn off the water, I have to hang my head because he’s right. I am filthy. A filthy, disgusting whore. It’s no wonder Dale wants no part of me.
I wallow in my self pity for only another moment.
Leave the bathroom behind, chin up and a smirk on my face. Head back for the bar and another drink without a look back and without an ounce of shame…at least, that’s what I tell myself. As I reach the bar, I see Junior and Martin starting to head out of the club and it’s obvious the boy is a little disheveled. I should let them go. I know I should. But I have to know if he’s still pissed at me. Take a breath and call out before they reach the door, trademark grin on my face, “Looks like someone had a good time tonight.”
Chuckle as the boy tries to adjust himself, but my eyes only linger over him briefly. He’s not the one I’m concerned with. Turn my eyes to Dale, inwardly cringing as I worry about his reaction to me.
“Hey, dude, ‘bout earlier... sorry.” Breathe a soft sigh of relief and don’t even let him finish.
“Don’t worry about it, June.” Put my hands up in mock surrender. “Didn’t mean to step on your toes. Just having a little fun is all.” Try to brush it all off as the game I pretend it is.
He nods and smiles as he moves closer to Martin again. “No hard feelings then?” he asks with that sweet southern boy smile and I couldn’t deny him even if I wanted to.
“Of course no.” Force a smile. “Guess I’ll see you both around,” I say before turning back to the bar and away from this grinding torture of making nice. As I reach the bar and order another beer, I contemplate going home, but I know I won’t, at least not yet. Not until I’ve had a few more beers to soothe my bruised ego and to convince myself all over again….
I’m not what they say I am.
One day they’ll see.
One day he’ll see…even if it’s only for a night.
o disappoint?
Raise my head and look to the back of the club where I know he’s got to be hiding with his latest conquest. I hesitate for just a moment, each time having sworn it would be the last. But I know better. We both do. We both crave the twisted brutality we find in each other and right now…right now I need to hurt.
Decision made I don’t even look back. I never do, not when I’ve made up my mind, and I head to the back of the club. I scan the darkened booths, not seeing him at first and I try to remember if I saw him slip out. But then I see one of his young teammates--Boston? Blake? Who remembers?--heading to the bar with two glasses in hand and I know I’ve got my chance.
I take off instantly in the direction the boy came from and I finally spot him smoking alone in a dark booth. I don’t even think, just slide in beside him and smirk, asking too cheerfully, “Having fun, Wonderboy?”
He turns his attention from watching where the kid went to glare at me and replies with clipped words, “Really not in the mood, Havoc.”
I shift slightly in my seat and take a long drink from my beer as the game begins again…but at least I know how this one ends. I look at him smoking slowly and part of me hates how the name he made for me both turns me on and makes me hate him all at once. But I know how this goes, and I know how to get what I want so I bait him with a grin, “Awww what’s wrong? Got a headache?”
“For you? Always,” he replies instantly and I see a slight smirk cross his lips. He enjoys, no, he needs this sparing match as much as I do, especially since I know he hates me. I’m under no illusions about him. Those blue eyes couldn’t be more different from the ones I see in my dreams. They’re so…cold. Empty. And I’ve never asked what made them that way. Something tells me I wouldn’t like the answer.
I watch him scan the club, probably for the kid and I continue the game, teasing him, “What’s wrong, lose your pet?”
“Jealous?” he sneers back at me instantly and I swear I want to strangle him. He’s no different than me. But instead of faces with no names he plays his twisted games on the young blood in his own shop. Part of me wonders how long this one will last, while the other half of me wishes I was the one getting a turn…and I know that he knows it. Those hard eyes don’t miss much.
So I shrug slightly and answer, telling him what he wants to hear. “Ok, so, maybe I am a little jealous,” I admit, knowing how much he loves his ego stroked…and I’m going to have to do a lot more of that to get what I want tonight. I lean a little closer and tell him in a lower voice, “You didn’t have to bring the kid you know.”
I feel his hand move along my thigh under the table and he grips me suddenly, silently letting me know I won’t be walking away just yet. His voice is smooth as he leans close to my ear and I can’t hold back a shiver. “What’s wrong? Junior and Truex shoot you down already?”
He knew. The fucking bastard knew exactly what I was after…just like he always does. The son of a bitch. He probably was watching the whole thing. I take a breath. Anger right now will work against me and I know it. It has to be on his terms. So I dip my head down and pout slightly as I murmur back to him, letting him know he was right. “No one wants to play.”
He nods and pulls me further back in the booth, but this isn’t what I want. His boy will be back before we know it and I’ll be cast aside, I think even as I feel his breath at my ear, tongue darting out to tease. So I lean into him, pressing closer and purr low in his ear, “C’mon, wouldn’t you like to find some place more private, Wonderboy?” I scoot even closer and slide my hand up his chest, pushing as much as I dare. “You know you wanna…”
Then I lean forward as he captures my lips with his and the fire ignites between us the way it always does. His lips are commanding and possessive as he plunders my mouth, and his hands are hard, bruising as he grips me tight…just the way I want him to. In only moments the “kiss” has grown out of control and we’re both squirming uncomfortably with need.
I finally break the kiss, panting harshly and stare into eyes that right now I wish weren’t so blue. Hold his gaze for a long moment and then ask him, still a little breathless, “So…what’ll it be? Me? Or the kid?” I don’t even have to wait for his answer because I already know what it will be.
He growls low and pushes me to the front of the booth, eyes flashing an even deeper shade of blue as he takes control…the way he always does. I barely make it to my feet before he’s out of the booth and dragging me by my wrist to the back of the club. I don’t even try to resist and why would I? This is what I am, after all. The lowest of the low, taking whatever’s offered. They don’t even have to say it. It’s in their eyes. Every one of them.
He pulls me with him into the men’s room and pushes me in ahead of him, following after me just a moment later. I take a step back as he literally stalks towards me and I can’t help but lick my lips at the wild look in his eyes. I do know how this game ends, and it’s time to play my part. “So what, Gordon? You gonna screw my brains out right here?”
A dark smile curls his lips as he makes his way towards me and I don’t think he could look more like a predator. His voice is lower and harsher than most of the world has probably ever heard and I know I’m sick for the way it makes me feel. “You like the danger, don’t you Havoc?” He’s right against me now and I feel his hands on my chest, fingers curling against me and scratching me through the fabric of my shirt. “It turns you into such a whore,” he sneers and pushes me backwards inside a bathroom stall.
God I hate him for being right but right now I’m so hard I swear I could pound nails. I need this, just as much as he does and, fuck…I hope he makes it hurt. Maybe it will drown out the pain I’m always ignoring inside. “So I’m a bitch,” I snap back at him angrily as he continues to advance on me. “At least I get to have a little fun.”
He grabs me with no warning and suddenly slams me back against the metal partition separating the stalls, and I wince as something sharp digs into my lower back. But as his lips attack mine again I don’t care. I need to just…feel. And he’s more than capable of helping me with that.
I reach down, making quick work of his belt and unzip his jeans. I quickly slide a hand inside, knowing I’ll find bare skin and his hard cock more than ready for me. I wrap my hand tight around him, squeezing him roughly and now it’s my turn to growl. “C’mon, Wonderboy…” I drawl, know he has the same love/hate feeling about that nickname as I do mine. “Show me what you’ve got.”
As always it doesn’t take much to get him to lose control and before I know it I’m slamming my hands against the wall in self defense as he bends me over the toilet. I straddle it the best I can as I feel him tearing my jeans down and hiss as I feel his nails digging into tender flesh…but God it turns me on. I lower my head in both desire and defeat as he takes over, and my nails dig against the painted cinder block walls. I don’t even realize that I’m already moaning until I hear his cruel, mocking words.
“You’re such a damn whore, Havoc,” he taunts me as he shoves my jeans down to my ankles and strokes me slowly. I bite my lip hard as he teasingly rubs his damp cock against my ass and I know damn well this is gonna hurt. He’s just mocking me, stroking my own hard flesh almost tenderly now and I know what he’s waiting for. He wants me to beg.
Fucking bastard.
“Stop screwing around and just fuck me, you bastard,” I snarl and I hope to hell that’s good enough. Haven’t I been degraded enough tonight? I wish he would just--
A low scream is torn from my throat as he ruthlessly pushes his way inside me and a wave of heat engulfs me along with the pain. I bite my lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, and tremble hard as he smacks my ass once he’s finally inside. I feel nails run down my back and I push back against him, silently begging for more and he doesn’t disappoint.
I know I’m twisted. I’ve known this for a long time now. Normal people don’t get off on pain the way I do. Hell, normal people don’t get off on causing it either. But I’ve finally learned to just accept my demented desires. Oh, I don’t have to have pain to get off. But sometimes…sometimes I just need to be hurt.
I feel my nails tear as I claw the wall and I can’t hold back low grunts of pleasure and pain as he slams into me again and again until I can’t even think. Let go. Fall. Lose myself to the excruciating feeling of being torn in two and finally the crystal blue eyes of my dreams fade away…if only for the moment. “Fuck Jeff…” I groan deeply and my words are met with a sharp bite at my shoulder as I know he’s getting closer. His hand is around me, stroking me hard, brutally just like his pounding thrusts and I know it won’t be long for either of us.
“C’mon you son of a bitch…” he snarls at me and I give over to his need to dominate completely…something I only do with him. He’s the only one I allow to treat me this way, and that’s just because of the sweet brutality I receive in return. “Come,” he hisses sharply and I can’t deny him even if I wanted to…and part of me does.
I suck in a sharp breath and then bite my tongue hard; this time drawing a little blood in my efforts to keep from letting out a howl as release finally claims me. I shake hard, gasping for breath as he continues to slam into me a few more times before he’s moaning his own completion. Hiss as he pulls sharply from me, and I don’t even have a chance to catch my breath before he’s spun me around, twisting me up, as he crushes his lips to mine.
I do my best to accommodate him as I somehow get turned around without falling and kiss him back, taking comfort in the familiarity. If he’d just give in…. But I don’t let myself even finish that thought because I know where it leads. Instead I break the kiss and gaze at him with eyes still glazed with passion and smirk. “Told ya you needed a real man,” I purr at him.
I watch a slow smile cross his face he strokes my face almost tenderly. I start to return the smile with one of my own when he finally speaks and pulls back. “Then where does that leave you?” he mocks me as he backs out of the stall and fastens his jeans.
“Bastard,” I growl at him, letting the familiar hatred fill me as my eyes narrow. I should have known not to expect more from him. I swear I hate that smug son of a bitch.
“What did you expect?” he says as he fastens his belt and smoothes his hair. “You might want to clean yourself up there, Havoc. You’re filthy,” he says as he looks down at me, disgust plain on his face before he turns and storms out the door.
I hear the door close and lean heavily against the stall before using toilet paper to clean myself up the best I can. I pull my jeans up and fasten them gingerly before making my way out of the stall and over to the sink, deliberately avoiding my own gaze in the mirror as I wash my hands. As I turn off the water I have to hang my head because he’s right. I am filthy. A filthy, disgusting whore. It’s no wonder Dale wants no part of me.
I wallow in my self pity for only another moment.
Then I leave the bathroom behind, chin up and a smirk on my face. I head back for the bar and another drink without another look back and without an ounce of shame…at least, that’s what I tell myself. As I reach the bar I see Junior and Martin starting to slip out of the club and it’s obvious the boy is a little disheveled. I should let them go. I know I should. But I have to know if he’s still pissed at me. Take a breath and call out before they reach the door, trademark grin on my face, “Looks like someone had a good time tonight.”
I chuckle as the boy tries to adjust himself, but my eyes only linger over him for a moment. He’s not the one I’m concerned with. I turn my eyes to Dale, inwardly cringing as I worry about his reaction to me.
“Hey, dude, ‘bout earlier... sorry,” he starts to apologize and I breathe a soft sigh of relief and don’t even let him continue.
“Don’t worry about it June,” I say as I put my hands up in mock surrender. “Didn’t mean to step on your toes. Just having a little fun is all,” I tell him, trying to brush it all off as the game I pretend it is.
He nods at me and smiles as he moves closer to Martin again. “No hard feelings then?” he asks with that sweet southern boy smile and I couldn’t deny him even if I wanted to.
“Of course not,” I tell him as I force a smile. “Guess I’ll see you both around,” I say simply before turning to head to the bar and away from this grinding torture of making nice. As I reach the bar and order another beer I contemplate going home, but I know I won’t, at least not yet. Not until I’ve had a few more beers to soothe my bruised ego and to convince myself all over again…
That I’m not what they say I am.
One day they’ll see.
One day he’ll see…even it it’s only for a night.
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Catw00man & Zippit - mbn@cryptoffic.com
This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission. |