Page 40 of Belle
“So, you’re going to work tomorrow night?” I pull my jacket off and drape it over a chair in the kitchen.
“Yeah. I need to let them know I’m putting in my two weeks. I don’t think they care, but I want to do it for the girls at least. Some of them are the only family I have.”
“Like Tiffany?”
“No. I don’t know what’s going on with Tiffany. We used to be attached at the hip. We told each other everything. Something has been off about her for a while now and I haven’t been able to figure it out.”
“Well, they always say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
“Let’s go to bed, Maddox. We need to sleep so we can face whatever is coming in the morning.”
I watch her walk down the hall towards my bedroom. I don’t know what it is about this woman. I’ve been with plenty of women in my life, but none have made me want to stick around.
I’m fucking stupid if I think Belle has any desire to settle down and start a family with me.
I shake my head and follow her to the bedroom. She’s right, who knows what’s in store for us tomorrow.
* * *
The next morning,I roll over and find Belle’s side of the bed empty. It’s frustrating to try and wrangle this woman. She does what she wants, when she wants. She never tells me what’s going on.
“Belle?” I call out, grabbing some jeans from the floor.
I search around the house, not finding her anywhere. I grab my phone from my dresser and shoot her a text. If we’re out murdering people and shit together, she needs to at least tell me where she’s going.
I’m not surprised when an hour passes with nothing from her. I wouldn’t know if she’s lying dead somewhere or if she just went to the club, because she doesn’t give a shit enough to tell me.
I’m sitting on the couch, when the front door opens.
“What the fuck, Belle?” I jump up and walk towards the door, shoving her against the wall.
“What’s your problem?” She’s shooting daggers at me.
“You have to start telling me where you’re going. There is too much shit going on for you to just disappear all day.”
“I don’t have to tell you shit, Maddox. You better figure that out really quick.” She turns away from me, struggling to move from the wall.
I grip her chin with my fingers. “I don’t care what you say. We’re in this shit together. Have the fucking decency to tell me where you’re at.”
She tries to wiggle out of my grasp, and my dick twitches in my pants. Her breathing is heavy, and her body is pressed up against mine.
“I don’t give a shit what you think. I’m not in anything with you. We fuck, that’s it. It’s not a relationship.”
“This is more than just fucking, and you know it. Keep telling yourself whatever you need to, though.” I crash my lips against hers, and she greedily kisses me back, like I knew she would.
“Fuck you.” She tries to pull away and I shove her harder against the wall.
She’s wearing a flannel button up shirt that I easily rip off her. Her fingers are wrapped up in my hair. We’re a mess of teeth, tongues, and anger.
I grip her thighs, right under her ass, and lift her up, she instinctively wraps her legs around my waist. “You’re such a fucking asshole.” She groans, her head rolling back.
My lips travel from hers, down her neck, and I nibble and suck at her throat. “Fuck,” I moan.
She shoves her hand down my pants and grips onto my dick. She doesn’t have this dainty touch that most women have, she doesn’t give a shit if it hurts. She knows I like to feel the pain. Her fingernails graze against my dick, just as I pull one of her nipples into my mouth.
“I hate you,” she says, and I almost laugh.
“You wish you did.” I pull her nipple between my teeth and her breath hitches.