He watches me while I put the straw on my tongue, and I suck slowly, moaning when the melted ice cream hits my tongue. The man in front of me watches me like I’m putting on a show for him, and I get lost in the moment, sucking the straw deeper into my mouth.
I want to make him suffer like he’s made me suffer. I lean my chest forward, showing off my cleavage while I drink, giving him a good view of what he can’t have.
I almost think he’s going to start jacking off at the table while his ears turn as red as his cheeks, but then he yanks the glass away from me causing cream to spill from my lips. “That’s enough, Montana.”
I sit by while he finishes our dessert, and once he pays, he accompanies me to the bathroom again and makes me stand in there with him while he goes.
He’s been so calm since I told him off that I think we may be moving forward. Not as friends. I’m not sure really. But something new.
However, he goes back into jackass mode as soon as we get back on the road.
“I want you to know, Montana, that I didn’t embarrass you for the way you spoke to me or that stunt you pulled with the milkshake at the end because I didn’t want to bring attention to us. But you need to know that I am twice the challenge you think you are, and you just made things ten times harder for yourself.”
He pulls my seatbelt over my lap before he drives faster. “And just like my most difficult mares, I’m gonna break you.”
13
Blackheart
Montana Elizabeth Barnes is the most testing woman I’ve ever met. I was telling the truth when I said Margaret would’ve loved her. She would have. Her mouth was just as smart as Montana’s, and she challenged me just as much.
But where Margaret would cower and let me take control, Montana only pushes me harder and whips out tricks I don’t see coming. I don’t know what to do with her and I never know what she’s gonna try next.
My little fox is a fighter, and I’m not used to going multiple rounds in the ring. But one of us has to lose, and we’re going to find out who’s stronger soon enough.
I roll down the windows while I get back on the highway while Montana keeps her head turned away from me.
I deal with the silence for ten minutes before I can’t take it anymore. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Montana raises a brow and scoffs. “Pardon me?”
“Do you have a boyfriend, Montana? Someone out there looking for you?” I don’t know why, but I’m hoping she says no.
Her upper lip twitches like she’s remembering something and she shakes her head. “No. No one.”
I hit a pothole that makes her bosom shake. “Any kids?”
She smirks. “None. You?”
My joy from her answers is immediately extinguished. “Nope.”
Her hazel eyes look me up and down. “Do you want any?”
I did once. I didn’t, but then I did. I remember when Margaret told me I was going to be a daddy. It was a Saturday morning and she was in my arms. I was barely awake when she shoved two positive tests in my right hand. I couldn’t wait to experience fatherhood. We were only a few weeks away from finding out the sex when—when I found her bleeding out in the kitchen.
That was the night I tried to end my life, and when I failed, I booked an appointment for a vasectomy the next day. Now there’s no chance I’ll ever risk facing pain like that again unless I get it reversed which I would never fucking do.
I glance over at the girl staring back at me, trying to intimidate her. “What about me indicates that I would have any interest in having a fucking kid, Montana?”
Her chest rises and falls a little faster, and she looks away from me. “Not a fucking thing, honestly.”
I’m the one who egged her on, but her answer still upsets me and opens my wounds all over again as if I’m back to that day.
Montana only twists the knife in deeper when she keeps the conversation going. “Are they her shoes, Blackheart?”
I get into the fast lane, going fifteen over. “What shoes?”
She gulps. “The shoes at your house. The shoes you let me borrow. Are they hers?”