Tore Up (Mississippi Smoke Series Book 1)

My fist remained frozen in the air as I stared at the closed door. Another of Halo’s moans from the other side, and I had to grip the doorframe. She was masturbating. Fucking hell.

I squeezed the wood tightly and closed my eyes as her sounds got more frantic. This was something I had not needed to know. I didn’t need to hear it. I should walk away. Leave her to it.

But I wasn’t going to. I was going to stand here and torture myself with it. Ripping this door off the hinges and going to replace her fingers with my mouth—it was tempting as fuck. I knew how she’d tasted on my fingers, and I was jealous of hers right now. That they got to touch her slick cunt and pussy lips.

Taking long, deep breaths, I dropped a hand to rub against my dick. How many times today had she made me hard? Could I even count? She’d laugh, and I’d stiffen in my jeans. She’d flash me a shy smile, and there I’d go again. She would lean over, and I’d see her cleavage. Then, bam, boner. I had gone to work out in the gym and kept glancing at the clock, counting down the time until I’d get to have dinner with her. Get an excuse to talk to her some more.

This was day one. I had two more days of this shit.

“Oh God!” she moaned loudly, and my hand tightened on my cock.Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Fuck, pretty girl, that sounds hot.

I needed to stop listening. This was wrong. I stepped back and fisted my hands at my sides.

“Bane!” she called, and another cry came from her.

She was getting off to thoughts of me.

Fuuuuck. Time for another goddamn shower.

I had to get myself under control before she came back downstairs. I’d come to ask her what movie she wanted to watch tonight. It was just an excuse to see her. I hadn’t wanted to wait any longer.

“Oh, oh, oh.” Her voice was softer.

I unbuttoned my jeans and was working on the zipper as I headed down the stairs. My dick was going to be raw from all the jerking on it I had been doing, but, damn, she was keeping me worked up. Glancing at the guest bedroom as I passed it, for a moment, I considered moving her in there. No, I couldn’t do that. Too close to me. The others might hear her when she had her sex dreams, and they’d know I was in there with her. I had to leave her upstairs.

I shoved my door open and stalked into my room, pulling my cock out of my pants as I did so.

Halo sat down on the sofa, pulling her legs up and crossing them. I had almost asked her twice now what movie she wanted to watch, but the second attempt hadn’t happened either.

During dinner, she’d asked me questions about the stables. She was curious about shit no other female I’d dated even thought about. It was fucking cute, the way she was visibly concerned about the foal she’d named Slingshot. I should tell her that his sire was a Triple Crown winner, and if we wanted to sell him today, he’d sell for hundreds of thousands. But I was enjoying the way she was championing him like he needed one.

Pulling up the movie options, I turned to look at her. “What’s your favorite movie?” I asked.

She scrunched her nose, then laughed softly, almost as if she was embarrassed. It was bad that I wanted to kiss every one of those damn freckles on her nose.

“You just made me real fucking curious—” I stopped myself. I’d almost called her pretty girl. Shit. I was losing my head.

“In my defense, I didn’t get to watch much television, growing up. I only went to the movies once.” A shadow crossed her face then, as if the memory wasn’t pleasant.

Wanting to demand to know what had happened and what fucker I needed to kill was also not good. She was the kind of girl guys fought over, chased. Every weekend night of her teenage life, she should have been taken on dates. But the fucker I’d killed had made sure that didn’t happen. The burn in my gut to kill him again because of the look on her face was strong. My immediate reaction shouldn’t be for her. Just the baby. But, damn, I didn’t like knowing she’d been robbed of so much. She’d been smiling and laughing. I wanted to keep it that way.

“What movie did you go see?” I asked, trying to calm my vengeance for a girl I hadn’t known. The one she’d been. The one who had needed someone to care about her. Other than the sick psycho who had lived under the same roof.

She shrugged. “I honestly don’t remember. We, uh, didn’t see the whole thing. I had to leave, but that wasn’t my favorite movie,” she told me. “No one remembered my twelfth birthday. I was a preteen and had all the emotions that came with that. I hadn’t expected a present or even cake, only for someone to remember it. Anyway, I stayed up after everyone went to bed and snuck into the living room to watch television. I never got to choose what we watched. An old movie came on one of the few stations we had.”

She paused and pursed her lips as her eyes twinkled. It would have made me laugh if my chest wasn’t currently constricting over the fact that no one had remembered her fucking birthday.

“Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

Trying like hell to tamp down the shit going on in my head, I managed to smile. “I can honestly say I have never heard of that one.”

Her musical laugh soothed me. “You don’t say?” she replied sarcastically.

I went to hit Search to see if I could find it, and two things popped up. There was a movie and a television series. Both were definitely old school. “Which one?” I asked her.

“There is a TV series?” she asked, sounding excited. “Um, I just watched the movie.”

I selected the movie.

“Bane,” she said, and I turned to look at her. “You aren’t going to like this. Please pick a movie you want to watch.”

I shook my head. I hadn’t planned on doing that, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to now that I knew she’d never gotten to watch what she wanted, growing up. Fuck that. She could pick every night. We could even watch the series if she wanted to.

“We are,” I told her. “This is what I want to watch.”

She gave me a look that said she wasn’t fooled before turning to the screen.

“The early ’90s,” I said, grinning.

“Like I said, we can watch something else.”

“Why would we do that?” I asked. “The ’80s and early ’90s have some of the most iconic movies of all time.”

Another trickle of laughter. “Sure they do.”

I looked at her. “I’m serious. Risky Business, The Lost Boys, Dead Poets Society, Flashdance, The Breakfast Club, Goodfellas.”

She was smiling at me as I listed off movies. When she didn’t agree, I knew she’d never seen one of them. We were going to rectify that shit.

When the movie started, I turned back to the screen. “Shh, no more talking,” I told her.

Another giggle, then silence. After a few minutes, I glanced at her to see she was completely focused on the screen. My thoughts, however, were on how much longer it would be before she was asleep in bed so I could hold her again.