Wicked Wednesday Throwout
Hi all.
This week is a excerpt form Relentless heart. I know I keep bouncing between this and S#!t Storm but Maggie and Ty have been extra chatty this week, and I don't see either shutting up in the foreseeable future. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I actually posted part of this earlier in the week on my profile. Sorry for the repetition, but I couldn't find a good point to break up the narrative. It is kind of long, so bare with me.
****
Relentless Heart
Maggie:
Ty has an arm slung over his face, snoring quietly as I enter the room. his legs are tangled up in the sheet, pulling those damn grey sweats dangerously lower on his hips. Are grey sweatpants standard issue for hot dudes? Is there a person at the gym that lets them know when they are required to wear them? "Sir, you have more than one tattoo, and a V that makes girls stupid... here are your grey sweatpants."
I want that job.
Focus Maggie.
"Ty. Ty, wake up." I gently shake his shoulders. Before I know what is happening his hand is cupping my ass and he has me pinned to his chest, grinding himself into my belly. He whispers my name like a prayer as I struggle against his heavy arm to hold myself away from his body. "Ty." I say again a little louder, shaking the bed with my hands which are firmly propped on either side of his pillow.
Those damn blue eyes lazily slide open and I watch a mixture of shock, confusion, and satisfaction flash through their stormy depths. "Sorry, I was dreaming." He apologizes., releasing his hold on my bottom. I slide off, loving the contact, and fighting away the grin that wants to burst forth.
Ty covers himself with the comforter, and I am far more disappointed about this than I should be. "I need to go. My kid will be home from her sleepover soon. I would have left but I can’t find my purse or my dress." I watch as his expression falls, but he tells me where to locate my belongings nonetheless. After thanking him, and telling him to go back to sleep, I find my stuff and change as quickly as possible.
The sporty little car in the garage is locked to my dismay. I try the two sets of keys on the hooks by the door, but realize there must be a third set, as there is a third hook. When I arrive back in Ty's room he is searching through his dresser. The intricate back piece I noticed before is on full display. My feet move me forward without my permission until I find myself a step away. "Beautiful." I whisper, my fingertips unconsciously finding his skin and tracing the lines to his spine. He stiffens as goose pimples rise over his skin. I drop my hand and step back.
Ty turns to me, and I take him in. His precision toned body covered in ink, the smattering of hair across his chest, all of it is sheer perfection.
FOCUS MAGGIE!
"I need my purse. Your car is locked." Oh god, my voice sounds like a little girls.
Ty reaches behind him and retrieves a set of keys, holding them out to me. I reach for them, hoping to make a quick getaway, but instead I find myself being pulled forward. Oh god, what is he doing. He can't touch me, he doesn't want me. I keep searching for the look my ex husband used to get. The one that told me I was his toy, just something he could use and toss a side at his leisure, but I don’t see it. I slam my eyes closed, because I can't bear to see that look again, and I know it is coming. Ty tilts my face toward his pulling me in with both arms. My hands find his smooth skin and wrap around to his back. My fingers curl in as I shudder against him. Then like a freight train, he kisses me.
Fuck if his lips aren’t as perfect as the rest of him.
Ty deepens the kiss, as I tangle my hands in his hair. Once again, I feel the sweet sensation of him grinding into my belly. All of the blood in my body rushes to my core and the sensation is almost euphoric. This isn’t a kiss of claiming, the type that makes me feel like a possession. This isn’t the type of kiss that tells me that I am to do as I am told, and act like I like it, or suffer the consequences. This is an actual, lust fueled kiss. The type that makes your toes curl, brings you to the brink of ecstasy just from the messaging of tongues and sweet caresses of lips and hands.
“You fucking pig. No one is going to want you. You are a used up whore. You were nothing before me and you will be nothing after.”
Fuck, no no no no, get out of my head you bastard. My thighs touch the side of Ty’s mattress. I don’t even know how I got across the room. I startle, because all of the insecurity that that man instilled in me rears its ugly head. Before I know what I am doing, I slip away from Ty and stand near the door. He doesn’t really want me. He can’t. I am damn near a decade older than he is. Ninety percent of my days are spent in sweats and scrubs. I have curves and stretch marks, and more scars than the ones I covered with tattoos. Turning in on myself, I wrap my arms protectively around my center. Just as I did when he would admonish me for whatever imaginary thing, I did that day. No, I can’t stay here, no matter how good it feels to be in this beautiful mans arms. This, whatever this is, is not real. If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.
“I have to go.” I say with finality, and then rush out Tyler’s door. Once the garage door clicks behind me, I start to run. I don’t believe that Ty is following me, but my body need the release of energy and stress. In no time I reach my block, only to come to a dead stop when I see the car in my driveway.
What.The.Fuck.Is.He.Doing.Here.
Several people tool around my porch and yard as I walk slowly up the drive. He is nowhere in sight, but according to my restraining order, he is not allowed on my property at all. As I reach my front step, the door opens ahead of me. At six foot five, Marcus stands at least a head over the other detectives on the premises. His jet black hair is in need of a cut as it falls over his aviator sunglasses. His chiseled jaw ticks from under the perpetual five o clock shadow he sports. Fuck, I know that look. When his nostrils flair, I start to feel one of my panic attacks fester inside. He is angry, angry at me.
“She’s here.” Marcus clips into his phone as I dare to climb to the second step. He shoves it into his pocket, and I can feel the anger pulsating from his body. He takes the remaining two steps down to my level gripping my arm roughly, then pulls me back down the last two into the yard. My brain begins to shut down when I see the other detectives from the team quickly dart into my house. As always, there will be no witnesses to whatever I am about to endure. Marcus grips my arm painfully and jerks me closer. Nononononononono this isn’t happening.
“Where the fuck have you been Maggie?” He growls through gritted teeth. I whimper when he once again increases the pressure on my bicep with his vice of a hand. “Don’t make me ask twice.” He hisses.
“At a friend’s.” I whimper, pleading with my tear ducts not to give him the satisfaction.
“You’re a fucking liar Maggie. I called all of your friends. Where the fuck where you, you whore.”
A sob escapes before I can smother it. Why is he even here? I haven’t spoken to him for over a year, and I have had a restraining order on him for two. I haven’t actually been this close to him since he left me in a bloody heap on my kitchen floor the day I was brave, or stupid, enough to serve him his divorce papers.
“Maggie?” Ty’s voice comes from over my shoulder. My body turns to ice wondering how much of the past two longest minutes of my life he witnessed. Marcus releases my arm and turns toward Ty as I do the same. Self-conciousley I pull my sleeves down on my cardigan. An action that I perfected hiding years of scars and bruises.
***
Fin and adu
This week is a excerpt form Relentless heart. I know I keep bouncing between this and S#!t Storm but Maggie and Ty have been extra chatty this week, and I don't see either shutting up in the foreseeable future. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I actually posted part of this earlier in the week on my profile. Sorry for the repetition, but I couldn't find a good point to break up the narrative. It is kind of long, so bare with me.
****
Relentless Heart
Maggie:
Ty has an arm slung over his face, snoring quietly as I enter the room. his legs are tangled up in the sheet, pulling those damn grey sweats dangerously lower on his hips. Are grey sweatpants standard issue for hot dudes? Is there a person at the gym that lets them know when they are required to wear them? "Sir, you have more than one tattoo, and a V that makes girls stupid... here are your grey sweatpants."
I want that job.
Focus Maggie.
"Ty. Ty, wake up." I gently shake his shoulders. Before I know what is happening his hand is cupping my ass and he has me pinned to his chest, grinding himself into my belly. He whispers my name like a prayer as I struggle against his heavy arm to hold myself away from his body. "Ty." I say again a little louder, shaking the bed with my hands which are firmly propped on either side of his pillow.
Those damn blue eyes lazily slide open and I watch a mixture of shock, confusion, and satisfaction flash through their stormy depths. "Sorry, I was dreaming." He apologizes., releasing his hold on my bottom. I slide off, loving the contact, and fighting away the grin that wants to burst forth.
Ty covers himself with the comforter, and I am far more disappointed about this than I should be. "I need to go. My kid will be home from her sleepover soon. I would have left but I can’t find my purse or my dress." I watch as his expression falls, but he tells me where to locate my belongings nonetheless. After thanking him, and telling him to go back to sleep, I find my stuff and change as quickly as possible.
The sporty little car in the garage is locked to my dismay. I try the two sets of keys on the hooks by the door, but realize there must be a third set, as there is a third hook. When I arrive back in Ty's room he is searching through his dresser. The intricate back piece I noticed before is on full display. My feet move me forward without my permission until I find myself a step away. "Beautiful." I whisper, my fingertips unconsciously finding his skin and tracing the lines to his spine. He stiffens as goose pimples rise over his skin. I drop my hand and step back.
Ty turns to me, and I take him in. His precision toned body covered in ink, the smattering of hair across his chest, all of it is sheer perfection.
FOCUS MAGGIE!
"I need my purse. Your car is locked." Oh god, my voice sounds like a little girls.
Ty reaches behind him and retrieves a set of keys, holding them out to me. I reach for them, hoping to make a quick getaway, but instead I find myself being pulled forward. Oh god, what is he doing. He can't touch me, he doesn't want me. I keep searching for the look my ex husband used to get. The one that told me I was his toy, just something he could use and toss a side at his leisure, but I don’t see it. I slam my eyes closed, because I can't bear to see that look again, and I know it is coming. Ty tilts my face toward his pulling me in with both arms. My hands find his smooth skin and wrap around to his back. My fingers curl in as I shudder against him. Then like a freight train, he kisses me.
Fuck if his lips aren’t as perfect as the rest of him.
Ty deepens the kiss, as I tangle my hands in his hair. Once again, I feel the sweet sensation of him grinding into my belly. All of the blood in my body rushes to my core and the sensation is almost euphoric. This isn’t a kiss of claiming, the type that makes me feel like a possession. This isn’t the type of kiss that tells me that I am to do as I am told, and act like I like it, or suffer the consequences. This is an actual, lust fueled kiss. The type that makes your toes curl, brings you to the brink of ecstasy just from the messaging of tongues and sweet caresses of lips and hands.
“You fucking pig. No one is going to want you. You are a used up whore. You were nothing before me and you will be nothing after.”
Fuck, no no no no, get out of my head you bastard. My thighs touch the side of Ty’s mattress. I don’t even know how I got across the room. I startle, because all of the insecurity that that man instilled in me rears its ugly head. Before I know what I am doing, I slip away from Ty and stand near the door. He doesn’t really want me. He can’t. I am damn near a decade older than he is. Ninety percent of my days are spent in sweats and scrubs. I have curves and stretch marks, and more scars than the ones I covered with tattoos. Turning in on myself, I wrap my arms protectively around my center. Just as I did when he would admonish me for whatever imaginary thing, I did that day. No, I can’t stay here, no matter how good it feels to be in this beautiful mans arms. This, whatever this is, is not real. If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.
“I have to go.” I say with finality, and then rush out Tyler’s door. Once the garage door clicks behind me, I start to run. I don’t believe that Ty is following me, but my body need the release of energy and stress. In no time I reach my block, only to come to a dead stop when I see the car in my driveway.
What.The.Fuck.Is.He.Doing.Here.
Several people tool around my porch and yard as I walk slowly up the drive. He is nowhere in sight, but according to my restraining order, he is not allowed on my property at all. As I reach my front step, the door opens ahead of me. At six foot five, Marcus stands at least a head over the other detectives on the premises. His jet black hair is in need of a cut as it falls over his aviator sunglasses. His chiseled jaw ticks from under the perpetual five o clock shadow he sports. Fuck, I know that look. When his nostrils flair, I start to feel one of my panic attacks fester inside. He is angry, angry at me.
“She’s here.” Marcus clips into his phone as I dare to climb to the second step. He shoves it into his pocket, and I can feel the anger pulsating from his body. He takes the remaining two steps down to my level gripping my arm roughly, then pulls me back down the last two into the yard. My brain begins to shut down when I see the other detectives from the team quickly dart into my house. As always, there will be no witnesses to whatever I am about to endure. Marcus grips my arm painfully and jerks me closer. Nononononononono this isn’t happening.
“Where the fuck have you been Maggie?” He growls through gritted teeth. I whimper when he once again increases the pressure on my bicep with his vice of a hand. “Don’t make me ask twice.” He hisses.
“At a friend’s.” I whimper, pleading with my tear ducts not to give him the satisfaction.
“You’re a fucking liar Maggie. I called all of your friends. Where the fuck where you, you whore.”
A sob escapes before I can smother it. Why is he even here? I haven’t spoken to him for over a year, and I have had a restraining order on him for two. I haven’t actually been this close to him since he left me in a bloody heap on my kitchen floor the day I was brave, or stupid, enough to serve him his divorce papers.
“Maggie?” Ty’s voice comes from over my shoulder. My body turns to ice wondering how much of the past two longest minutes of my life he witnessed. Marcus releases my arm and turns toward Ty as I do the same. Self-conciousley I pull my sleeves down on my cardigan. An action that I perfected hiding years of scars and bruises.
***
Fin and adu
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