Page 6 of Dodge

His thumb moved through the photos until one popped up, and he paused. It was a pic of Fauna he had taken on impulse last night. She had fallen dead asleep after coming hard for the second time and lay in a tangle of sheets that only covered her hips, her hair spread out around her head and her lips slightly parted. Dark nipples topped her small breasts. He recalled her breathy gasps as she clutched at his head between her legs. It had been a very long time since he’d last touched a woman with any kind of intimacy, and he was happy to know he still had his skills.

She looked peaceful in the picture. Beautiful.

When she first stomped into the bar in her chef uniform, Dodge noticed her. Gorgeous with her head held high as a queen and ready for a fight. Her radiant coffee skin drew his attention like a lodestone. She’d torn a black hat off a head full of tight, springy curls and threw it on the bar, her deep gold-and-green eyes snapping. By her body language and expression, she was not in a good mood. He sat close enough to hear her sharp complaints to the bartender.

“Fucker just fired me. I swear, Macie, one of these days he’s going to kill someone with the nasty shit he calls food.”

“I been tellin’ you to drop his ass for months, girlfriend.” He poured her a shot of tequila and set a saltshaker next to it. He shouted over his shoulder as he moved to the other end of the bar to scoopup a few lemon wedges on a napkin, “I hope this little drama means what I think it means.”

Dodge watched as the woman licked the back of her hand and sprinkled salt on it. “Yep, it abso-fuckin-lutely does. I. Am. Done.” She threw back the shot and gasped. “Holy shit. I forgot how strong you pour, but I want another.” Her white teeth bit into a lemon wedge as the bartender gave her a refill.

Dodge recalled there’d been two other men at the bar who took note of her quick consumption as well. He’d intended to finish his own drink and go to his hotel room by himself, but the woman started spouting all sorts of shit to the bartender. They seemed to be friends, as she didn’t hold back at all: the kitchen, the bad food, the fight, the lack of intimacy in her life, her struggles as a woman of color, and on and on. Her slurred words and loss of control escalated quickly. Too quickly, Dodge decided. She was on the small side and maybe not used to alcohol despite the classic tequila drinking method. A career drinker wouldn’t get that drunk that fast on two shots of Patrón. The other men were eyeing her with a speculation Dodge recognized. The two of them stared at the woman and whispered between themselves, lust clearly on their faces. He didn’t want to get involved but couldn’t leave her alone to be taken advantage of by two strangers in a bar.

One man made a gesture of thrusting the index finger of one hand through a circle he made with the other. When he added a second finger, Dodge had the impulse to take the bastard outside and beat the ever-loving shit out of him. But that would have left her alone, and she was getting louder and drunker.

He was still surprised it only took two shots before she was hammered. It was a piece of cake to get her to his room, and he meant for her to pass out and sleep it off. She had other plans.

“I got people aroun’ me all the time, an’ I’m still lonely. Even my fuckin’ boyfriend leaves me alone. He’s nodda good cook. Not ad’ all. Gonna make people sick. Can’t run a kitchen. I got better scores in cullenurry… coolnory… fuck. Cooking school. More essperience. Only reezon he got through id is ’cauz I helped him with hiz food. I was ’posed to get the head chef job. Been working my ass off for it, but noooo! He geds it. Story of my life, I guess, and no one cares. I work hard, keep my noze clean, an’ still I’m at the bahdom. My las’ boyfrien’ did the same. He cheaded on me too. I’m sooo tired of bein’ overlooked. Fuck it, I need to feel somethin’. I need to feel someone.”

Dodge’s thumb hovered over the Delete button. Fauna had begged him to fuck her, insisted on shaving herself, and threatened to go back to the bar to find someone else when he refused. Short of using physical restraining force, he had little choice if he wanted to protect her. Twice he went down on her, and twice she came hard in his mouth. Dodge licked his lips as he recalled her rich flavor. His cock had swelled to painful hardness, and he’d slipped into the bathroom, fisted himself, and quickly found his own release.

He took the picture on his phone after he came back in the bedroom and saw her sleeping. Yeah, it was creeper-ish, but he didn’t think about that at the time.

This morning, she was contrite and embarrassed. He thought about just making her leave, but there was something vulnerable about her. Some need she had, and he found himself in rescue mode, feeding her breakfast and then taking her home. She didn’t cling or want his number, which surprised him. Definitely not what he was used to, and he’d been kinda disappointed.

He’d thought about her words during the final hours of the car show as he packed up to head home.

“Let’s just consider this to be a fond memory of the one who got away, yeah?”

He hoped it was that simple, but it didn’t seem to be going that way if she was still on his mind.

“Thank you for saving my ass and being such a great guy. That means more to me than I can ever say.”

Three knocks sounded on the door and disturbed his musings. Dodge got up, thinking it was the pizza he ordered. He opened the door and wished he’d looked through the peephole first. Blood rushed to his head, and his hand clenched the doorknob. He wanted to both slam it shut and open it wide at the same time. What were the odds that the minute he might have found something new and bright, something old showed up?

“Hey, baby. Gonna let me in?”

“What are you doing here, Mallory?”

The woman’s lower lip pushed out, making a red duck mouth. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Thought I’d come by for a spell.”

Dodge’s jaw tightened as he saw the dilation of her blue eyes. “It’s awfully late for a friendly visit. How long you been in town?”

Mallory ignored his question and pushed her way into the apartment. “Bedelia said you was at some car thing all weekend, an’ I figured you was back by now. Get anything good?”

“Some.”

“Hmmm, that’s cool. You’ve always been real smart about bikes and cars and stuff.”

She flopped down on the sofa and slipped off her high wedge shoes. Dodge watched with his hand still on the open door as she dropped a worn leather jacket on the floor and settled in. She appeared skinnier than the last time he’d seen her. Even her breasts seemed smaller from the way her shadowy nipples poked out under her tight Harley tank top. The short, ripped jean skirt she wore rucked up and showed her see-through black leggings. She wasn’t wearing full panties but a thong.

“Hey, baby? You got any food?”

He wasn’t surprised at her hunger. This wasn’t the first time she’d come to him this way. “Ordered a pizza. Should be here soon.”

“Cool. You got any beer?”

A tickle of dread brushed the back of his neck. If the universe wanted to fuck with him, it had picked a great time. “I’ll ask again, Mallie. What are you doin’ here?”

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