Page 83 of Unleashed

Outside my room, I hear the front door open and another male voice downstairs. It can’t be Greg since... And Finn would’ve texted me and never would visit this late, no matter what shit I spew. My tantrums are mere inconveniences to him, not genuine issues.

I don’t want Greg to see me like this, but my fury refuses to allow me to lock myself away from him. I flip the light switch and move in front of it. The room glows silver in the moonlight. If that’s Greg downstairs, he’ll have to fight to stay. I won’t be his on-call whore or glory hole since Trashy’s mouth or pussy muddies his cock.

I swallow the pain with a chaser of vomit threatening to explode all over my bedroom. Like I told Greg in Durham, I can’t watch him fall in love with another woman.

Jesus Christ. I want something I can’t have anymore. Greg didn’t trust me, while my brother wouldn’t have abandoned Hadley or denied he was her baby’s father if he had known. And for that, aside from his obvious and sometimes humorous faults, my big brother is a better man than Greg ever could be to me.

Chapter 12

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“HOW ‘BOUT IT?”

I think Tansy is talking, but I don’t hear a goddamn word.

The only person I’m focused on is Simone, cozying up to some dickhead at the bar. At first, I go numb, but then sweat beads across my forehead and random body parts twitch. It’s as if I’m in a sauna during an earthquake. I ball my hands into fists on Tansy’s hips, and I grit my teeth so hard they crackle. I’m positive that I growl. What the fuck is that woman doing to me? I swear to Christ, I’m turning into a fucking werewolf.

“Yo, Greg? Are you with me?”

I blink but can’t look away from the bar. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Because I just said my hair is on fire, and you said nothing.”

For five seconds, I look at Tansy. The top of her blue head is at my nose, so she might think I’m bored. Far, far from it.

She snuggles closer to me while I watch Simone leaning in close to this cumwad. But when his hand moves to her ass, squeezing it through her dress so much that it shows more of her cheek, I’m about to go apeshit.

Tansy laughs and rubs her hips against mine, assuming my hardening crotch is for her. She leans her head back, licking her lips. “Damn, Greg. You’re so hot and don’t even realize how much.”

I clear my throat so I don’t snarl like a bear or squeak like a mouse. There’s no middle road here. “I guess not.” There’s no line of women crawling all over me. Sometimes, one will throw me a bone when I’m the only option left. Just like Hadley when she needed a distraction. Shasta when I did. Rhonda’s temporary insanity. Drunken Cleo. Returning a favor to Simone. Horny Tansy. They’re all temporary. Women want me for a laugh or a fuck. Nothing more. Always less. At eighteen, those fuckers in the basement stole more than my virginity. I’m damaged goods. Always will be.

Tansy grips my tight shoulders and sweeps her hips across my groin. “I’m not kidding. My thong is fucking soaked.”

Tansy’s hands go to my jaw, and she kisses me before I realize what’s happening. Her relentless lips work against mine since I’m not participating. Cracking my eyes open, I see Simone up against that douchebag’s chest, and I growl again. Unfortunately, Tansy takes that as me encouraging her, and she shoves her tongue into my mouth. I freeze. I don’t want to kiss her like this. I would’ve had to work up to doing it and not jump in like this. I don’t know her. I have a hard enough time kissing women I know.

For me, kissing remains scary and involves my heart and soul. Shasta kissed me a few times, but I never started it. Rhonda also kissed me before I realized it. I never kissed Cleo. Betsy wishes she could kiss me, but I’d prefer dying in a vat of scorpions. The only two women I’ve kissed first...I meant it.

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