Page 38 of My Rose

“Pay for what? Better lessons for you? Your song sucked, by the way. Now get away from me, and don’t ever come back here again.” A huge, heavy weight lifted from me just as my phone vibrated again. I was so worked up I had half a brain to throw it on the ground and stomp on it. Instead, I stared down at it as it shook in my hands, blocking out the sounds of August slamming his car door and speeding off down the road.

I finally did it. I’d finally pushed through whatever feelings I thought I had for August Coleman and opened my eyes to the reality of him.

And that reality was fucking awful.

Chapter 16

Briggs

"The ape, vilest of beasts, how like to us." ? Quintus Ennius

My body screamed when I woke up the next day. But the first thought on my mind was still Rose. I wasn’t good at the whole ‘dating’ thing, but I sent her a good morning text anyway. Every twist, every bend as I stood from my bed, was agony. ButI’d learned to work through the agony, to push through the pain. To be a man.

There was nothing fucking manly about being beaten by your father, though. I was almost surprised that he and Dean took off immediately after dumping me back on the doorstep and that Father didn’t continue taking his anger out on me. Rhonda was already waiting inside, and at some point in the night, she came in and left not only a new phone but a wrap and some medicine out for me, as well. That woman seriously needed a raise. She also set out a cooler full of ice packs and a heating pad next to it for the rest of my muscles that were overcompensating for the half of my torso that wasn’t doing so well.

A godsend of a woman.

I was sent to the hospital after the first time my father tried to teach me a lesson. He claimed I fell down the stairs, and the money he slipped the doctors and nurses who took care of me made it so they didn’t bat a single eyelash at the way my marks were targeted around certain organs, aiming for bones instead. They took his word and his money and left me for days as I recovered. But my body was getting used to it. The only thing that made me take an ice pack and put it on my ribs before getting in the shower was thinking about being near Rose and not being able to touch her. Not being able to hug her or bend down to kiss her.

One day of rest. That was all I’d need to be able to get close to Rose again.

The bathroom was dimly lit as I stepped inside, but the bruising on my ribs was clear as day. I stayed under the shower head forpossibly an entire hour as I tried to work out the pain that coursed through my body. I turned my thoughts back to her—that soft skin and those lips—so ready to part and spew whatever came to her mind, even if it was odd or had a bite to it. But what I really wanted from those lips was for them to wrap around my cock and suck the insane desire I had for her from me.

Even with an injured body, my dick took no time standing to full attention at the mere thought of her. My length throbbed as I pressed my palm flat to the cool tile, my back arching to accommodate the stance. Reaching down, I pictured my fist in her hair, those dark strands twisting between my fingers while I put her plush, red mouth to good use.

My palm was nowhere near what I imagined her tongue could do, but that didn’t stop me from stroking my cock from root to tip, rubbing my thumb along the top like it was all in her control. My fingers were hers, and the warm water that fell on my shaft between each stroke was from the drool I’d cause by burying myself so deep into her throat that she’d struggle to swallow, much less breathe, before I’d slam back in.

My cock strained, the veins pulsing harder as my hips began to buck like she was truly here, on her knees before me in this very shower. I’d make her play with herself and tell me how wet she was for me as her fingers slid over her tight bud, winding us both up for a release as cataclysmic as kissing her was. I’d watch those tits of hers bounce as she gagged, trying to take all of me in, not relenting for a single second and loving the sounds she’d make with every garbled gasp.

Not a minute later, I was panting from the imagery, my forearm resting on the tile to support my body just as a heavy load of cum burst from me like I’d never fucked a day in my life. I pushed the wet hair from my face as I rinsed off before turning the shower off and stepping out, my body humming with the reality that having her on her knees for me might not be as far a cry as it used to be.

And then Dean called.

Another hour later, I was standing in my gym, knuckles wrapped, with a red-headed asshole breathing down my neck.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Briggs? You know he thrives on your mouth. Lashing out at him was the stupidest thing you could’ve done. And I’ve seen you do a lot of stupid shit.”

I punched the bag in front of me, and Dean took a step back, giving me space. “The way I see it, I saved the business money,” I replied without looking at him.

Another punch. And another. I punched and kicked until the pain on my side was offset by the rest of my muscles crying out in misery. I leaned forward and rested my forehead on the bag, my arms wrapping around it to still it against me.

“Listen, I’m not saying I’m not proud of you for figuring that out on your own. I mean, shit, you saved us a small chunk of change. But did you have to push him? Was it that hard to just—” He stepped into my field of vision as I turned my head to the side, his fingers pinching together while dragging across his lips like he was zipping them shut. “Is it hard to do that, Briggs?”

“Yeah. It is, actually.” I walked over to my duffle bag I'd hung on the wall and pulled out my phone. I still hadn’t heard from Rose. As Ityped out another message, Dean came to stand by my side, eyeing my screen.

He sighed, his tone softening. “Why don’t you just call her?”

“That would be overbearing.” I didn’t give a shit about being overbearing. I was more worried about her coming to her senses. I stared down at my phone again, hoping I’d see some dots pop up. But, nothing. The very thought that I cared about what a woman thought about me, that they’d see my vulnerabilities, was unnerving.

Dean snorted. “You look desperate.”

I glared at him. “I’m not desperate.”

He put his hands up. “Okay, not desperate. So why is she ignoring you already?”

“Not sure.”

“Trouble in paradise already?” He slapped his hand over my shoulder, and I felt the pain sear across my stomach. “Sorry. You’ve looked worse before. Probably shouldn’t be here, but I didn’t want to discuss things with you at the house.”

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