Page 57 of Rough and Rugged
Her shoulders rise, suggesting she’s taking a deep breath. Whether the exhale is for concentration or the fact that suddenly she seems to be breathing heavier, faster, and she’s trying to calm herself, I can’t be certain.
I kick my foot between hers, forcing them to spread. “Widen your stance for balance.” My voice remains low, ragged even. Her head tilts back. The nape of her neck hits my lowered shoulder. I turn my head, my nose tickling up the side of her throat.
“Aim the tip,” I whisper, the sound a hushed croak.
I release the arm holding the ax and place both my hands on her hips to steady her. Or maybe it’s to steady me, because I want nothing more than to tug her closer to me. Feel her back against my chest. Have her drop the ax, and the uptight act, and give into me. Let me bend her forward and take her rough and sweet. Let me show her I can love her.I’llbe the greatest. Uncultured, not well-financed, but rich beyond means in other ways.
“Ellis.” Her voice is raw, low and seductive. “You need to step back.”
The warning startles me and I quickly straighten, watching Ginger catch herself with her foot as she tips backward unsteadily.
Had she been leaning against me as much as I was leaning into her?
With a final brush of my hands over her hips, still unable to confirm if she is wearing anything over her ass underneath my shirt, I take a large step back and allow her to take her turn at ax throwing.
She’s horrible.
But adorable in her efforts.
Chapter Four
Ginger
I’mnothalfbadat ax throwing.
Granted, I hardly hit the board, but the few times I did, the ax stuck. However, we don’t rack up the points we need to be competitive, and while I expect a big fuss from Ellis, like Wesley made whenever he lost at pool, or darts, or a bet he placed on a football game, Ellis simply laughs off our score, accepts a beer from our opponents, and we move on.
Surprisingly, we find Grant just outside the ax throwing event and the three of us finally wander toward the food vendors.
“I’m starving,” I admit, my mouth already watering for a brat. Or two. And maybe a hot pretzel with layers of salt.
Wesley would have criticized my food choices, but thankfully, he isn’t here.
Glancing down at the ring I still wear, I remind myself he isn’t present in my life anymore period.
Why am I still wearing this thing?
A full week has passed, and the memories hit hard and fast, and out of the blue when I try to keep them locked in a box. The images. The words. The hurt.
Wesley isn’t really so great. He’d done his damage with comments about my clothes and my hair. About what I ate and didn’t eat. About activities I participated in and didn’t do.
Did I love him? I thought I did, but a good look at his behavior since we’d gotten engaged, and his most recent actions, remind methatwas not love.
He’s a selfish, spoiled, small man in both brains and dick. I’ve had better.Maybe.
Feeling like someone is watching me, I glance upward. Ellis is staring at the diamond on my hand. The hand I hold in front of me, fingers extended, as I examine the ring myself.
“Nice rock.” Sarcasm fills the compliment.
I should return the garish thing. Or I could hock it. I might need the money. I moved out immediately, feeling fortunate to have found another place, but one that won’t be available for another month. For now, I’m staying with Grant, ashamed to tell the rest of my family and friends that the engagement is off.
I hadn’t done anything wrong. But still, I am embarrassed.
I hum in response to Ellis’s remark and toy with removing the ring now. However, in only a slip of a thong beneath Ellis’s shirt and my still damp bra which grows increasingly more uncomfortable, I don’t have any pockets to place this thing in for safe keeping.
Grant does a cursory glance at the diamond as well, scoffs, and lifts his beer, taking a healthy guzzle. He’s well on his way to being shitfaced by three o’clock. Thankfully, he’s sworn to secrecy about my current engagement status. He never liked Wesley and he’s been more vocal about his opinion now that we’ve broken up.
I lower my hand, dismissing all thoughts of my ex, the white gold band weighing down my finger, and my future. For now, I’m living in the present. And that means a hot pretzel, two bratwursts, and my first beer of the day.