Page 57 of His Big Bad Stick

That’s when I slowly sit up.

I hold a blanket against the top of my chest.

“That’s right,” I say. “We both chased our dreams and got them. You became a famous hockey player. I became an artist.”

“Really?”

“That’s right. I can tell you the whole long story someday if you want. Or not. Doesn’t matter. I basically took a chance on myself, rented a space and opened a gallery. It was a struggle. But I loved my gallery. It was all mine. Until it wasn’t.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning things went to shit, Colver. Some people were able to just skate right through the last handful of years. No pun intended with the skate thing. For me, it was hard. I didn’t mind the sense of isolation and all that. I got a ton of stuff painted. But selling online really didn’t work the way I wanted it to. Not to mention being trapped in a terrible lease. That’s when Simon showed up. The hero investor type.”

I roll my eyes.

Colver doesn’t make a face or anything.

“I don’t date those kinds of guys,” I say.

“I’m not sure I really give a fuck about the kinds of guys you fuck.”

“Wow. Even after coming you’re still mean.”

“What did you expect? Me to run out and buy you roses? You’re cunt is heavenly. That’s about it.”

My face burns hot and I swallow hard again.

I accept the reminder that I’m in the presence of evil.

“Right,” I say. “Okay, I’ll speed this up. Simon bought the building and offered to help me. I ended up foolishly signing away some of my rights and intellectual property to him. I was desperate to survive and wanted to make a name for myself. At some point things with Simon turned into something else. He only recently gave me that diamond ring. I’m not sure what it exactly means either. I think it’s more symbolic for him than anything. I don’t love him. I don’t want him. I hate him. But I’m trapped.”

“And how do I help you with that?”

“I don’t know, Colver. I just had to see you. Simon and I got into a big argument over my paintings. I want my stuff back. I want what’s mine and to move on. He can keep everything he’s made from me. I just want to be left alone now. He told me to buy him out. Can you imagine that? Buying my own paintings from him? But I guess I did that to myself. Well, I lost it and started yelling. Finally sticking up for myself, I guess. Simon told me that my artwork wasn’t even that good. That he only did what he did because the building was increasing in value and because he knew I was an emotional mess and he could get me into bed really easy. Fuck him for saying that.”

“Seems like that’s what you did, Abrielle,” Colver says.

“Yeah. I suppose so. None of this bothers you?”

“Why would this bother me? You got tricked by some guy with money.”

“But…”

“Do you think I’m going to get jealous? Look at me, kitten. Look me in my fucking eyes…”

I’m already looking at him.

He waits a second.

He then touches my chin. It causes an instant flood between my legs.

“I just ate your clit for breakfast, Abrielle,” he says. “I savored your cunt and drank from it like someone broke open a coconut. And I felt how tight your cunt was. You’ve been neglected all this time. That’s the part that makes me angry. Got it?”

Now I’m wondering if a woman can orgasm from hearing a man talk.

And, yes, I’m aware that Colver is awful. Just pure mean, evil, and rude.

But it’s his style.

---