Page 381 of Branded
An average one at that.
And one who was now ruined for all other men. Maybe I’d switch to women. I liked a good set of boobs, could get behind curves?—
Ha.
Who was I kidding?
I liked hard and built and thick.
And Theo.
I’d really liked him.
But he hadn’t called. In fact, he hadn’t even let me stay the night. He’d fucked me senseless, sent me on my way and yeah, being blown off hurt, but it wasn’t exactly a surprise. I was me. He was him.
And so…I’d gotten over it.
Then I’d gotten on with work—which, uncomfortably, was in the Breakers’ locker room.
He’d made his disapproval of that clear, and at first, I’d been determined to prove he didn’t affect me, to ignore what happened, to demonstrate that he meant nothing to me, so I’d forced myself to interview him like normal, to report on him like normal.
Were all the stories nice and kind?
No.
I’d sucked the guy off, and he’d still been ready to fuck me senseless. Hell, my pussy had throbbed for two straight days after we’d fucked, and I’d left his bed feeling like I’d run a marathon—something I didn’t bother with because exercise, blegh.
But that was it.
Nothing else.
No catching feelings. No repeat performance. Just…moving on.
So, no, not all the stories about Theo were nice, but that wasn’t because we’d fucked. I just…didn’t always shy away from tough questions, and he’d made it clear that my tough questions, that my reporting in general made him unhappy.
But, I repeated, moving on.
Making the best of it. Doing my job.
Getting opportunities I’d dreamed of and staying busy enough that dealing with Theo Young had gotten easier.
Until he’d eviscerated me in front of Smitty and Cas and Raph and Julie and Lake Jordan.
That, surprisingly, was harder to get over than never having his dick inside me again, never tasting his skin, or feeling his big body come over mine.
He didn’t like me.
He didn’t respect me.
And I’d still gotten wet in the face of all that derision.
I was despicable. And pathetic. And desperate. And?—
The heavy metal door swung open so fast that I didn’t have the chance to stop it, to dodge it. The panel of steel slammed into me, nose to toes, and then the pain was flooding my senses, sending me to my knees on the concrete.
More pain.
But then there was warmth—liquid warmth. Blood gushing out of my nose, dripping down…onto my blouse.
