Page 1 of Shut the F*ck Up and Take this D*ck Like a Good Girl

CHAPTER 1

Piper

“Stop it, Marcus.” Pushing his hand away is harder than it looks. He’s been trying for more and more lately, and getting him to stop and respect my wishes has become increasingly difficult. I’d never feared him until his older brother came home a couple of weeks ago. For some reason, that seemed to ramp up his efforts to get in my pants. Also, he’s refused to allow me to meet the man, so it’s all the more confusing to me.

“You’re such a fucking prude, Piper.” Flinging his body back against the couch cushion, I flinch when he levels me with his signature glare. “You’re perfectly happy to dress like you’re ready to fuck, but then you turn into this ice queen. What the fuck is wrong with you?” His attitude has changed, as well. He used to shower me with compliments; now, I’m talked down to. Degraded like I mean nothing to him.

Marcus and I have been a couple for almost six months now. We’ve kissed a lot, done some heavy petting over our clothes, and a couple of other things. I’ve repeatedly told him that I’m not ready for sex, that I’m waiting for marriage, and until recently, he respected my wishes.

“What is your hurry?” I counter as I fix my clothes and smooth my long mahogany hair. “And why are you being so cruel?” Standing up, I tug my shirt farther down—it shows a strip of skin between the hem and button of my high-waisted shorts. Nothing overly revealing like he suggests.

“Because you’re a fucking cocktease, Pipe. Shaking your ass like you’re hot shit, but then clamming up like a fucking dry bone.” Getting to his feet, he steps closer, using his height to intimidate me. I hate to say it, but it works.

“I didn’t realize you were taking the way I dressed as an invitation. It’s been unseasonably hot, and I didn’t think I had to suffer in heavier clothing.” Backing up, Marc follows me until I bump into a wall.

Boxing me in with his arms on either side of my head, he snarls at me, “Either put out tonight, or we’re done.” Sucking in a sharp breath, I meet his stare and find that he is completely serious, so I’m not all that certain even if I say no, that he’ll accept that answer.

Straightening my shoulders, I refuse to back down or go against my values. “I guess we’re done then.” Rage enters his eyes lightning-fast, and before I know it, my cheek explodes with pain, and the taste of blood coats my tongue.

His hand rises again, and I react. Lifting my leg, I knee him in the groin and take off for the door and out into the street as he shouts my name.

Thunder booms, clashing right within my ear. It was drizzling earlier, but the skies open up just as I reach the street, and I’m quickly soaked through my clothes. “Dammit, Pipe!” I curse as I run down the street.

Marcus lives in a nice neighborhood—as a realtor, I’d kind of expect that. I also know there are a few pubs a couple of blocks away. Not near enough in this weather, if you ask me.

I don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed that he doesn’t follow me. I meant it when I said we were done. I can’t be with a man who doesn’t respect me. It doesn’t matter that he’s frustrated over not getting laid; it’s the names he’s been calling me, and that slap just sealed the deal. Giving me an out was just what I needed. I kind of wish it had happened on a nicer day, however.

When we got to his house after he picked me up from class this afternoon, it was gorgeous out. We’d planned on barbequing some steaks for dinner. Now I’m starving and soaking wet.

My roommate, Hael, will be all too happy to rub this in my face. We’ve been best friends since rooming together during our first year of college. When it came time to move out of the dorms, we decided to find a small house to rent together—which just happened to be how I met Marcus. He was our realtor, and about a week after we signed the lease on our house, he called and asked me out.

I was flattered. He was older and seemed to have his life together. I thought he was at that age where men were done playing the field. Maybe wanted to settle down. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Marcus likes to party, usually with a younger crowd. He stays out late and wakes up hungover, but I still thought he was more sophisticated than the frat boys at college asking me out. How wrong I was. All he wanted was sex like every other man on the planet.

“Idiot Piper. Big old idiot.” Great. I’m muttering insults at myself now as I approach the first pub I see. The frat boys call this pub row. That should have been my first clue that Marcus wasn’t boyfriend material because he visited here all too frequently.

Yanking on the heavy wood door, I’m assaulted by the smell of stale beer and man-stench. I just need a phone to call Hael, since I left mine at Marcus’, and then I can leave.

“ID,” the guy at the bar requests as soon as I enter.

All eyes turn to me, and I grow nervous as I approach the bartender. “Can I use the phone? I just need my friend to pick me up.”

“You under twenty-one?” Chewing my lip, I reluctantly nod. I’ve always found it impossible to lie. “Can’t be in here, then.” He nods towards the door, but I try again.

“Please, I just want to call her, and then I’ll go wait outside.” I hope I look desperate enough that he lets me.

His head shakes, and he points to the door again. A couple of guys call him an asshole, but I notice none of them offer to let me use their phones, either.

Sucking in a fortifying breath, I prepare for the freezing rain as I push open the door and step out. The wind nearly blows me over, and as I hustle to the next bar with a rowdier clientele, I don’t even enter. They have a man at the door carding everyone.

I’ve no idea how long I’m outside when a man walks up behind me, offering to share his umbrella. I’m about to refuse when our eyes meet, and I get lost in the forest green—my favorite color. My voice disappears, and apparently, so does my common sense.

I don’t know how long we walk, but I’m frozen to the bone and shivering so hard my chattering teeth can be heard over each boom of thunder. My skin hurts, and my cheek still throbs.

I feel his stare on me before he speaks. “Want to tell me what the hell you’re doing out here in this?”

“Not really,” I mutter, surprised I didn’t stutter through the shivering.

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