Page 22 of Ravenous

Like shewantedit bossy.

Wanted me to be the guy who gave it to her hard and told her what to do.

Even liked being my bad girl sometimes.

Fuck, I was in trouble.

11

JOY

Two hours later,with a stomach full of eggs and cocoa, I stood in my wrecked bedroom. The wooden floors were swollen and warped from the rain. The rubble was everywhere.

I’d called the insurance company and sent them photos I’d taken with my phone. But I wasn’t the only customer in the area who had a storm claim, so they said they’d have an adjuster come out in two or three days. Sooner, if possible.

“Two or three days,” I muttered, staring at my flipped bed.

I remembered how Wes had just lifted it and flung it onto its side. I knew firsthand he had solid muscles, but working a ranch sure made him strong.

My inner walls clenched remembering the night before. I was sore, and for a day or two, I wasn’t going to forget what we’d done. All because of the storm. Because of the adrenaline.

Because… I’d wanted Wes, and last night there was nothing that was going to stop me from having him. Yup, a storm brought out my inner slut.

It also brought down the ceiling and my roof.

The drywall was broken like eggshells all over everything. Insulation was a fluffy but sodden mound in the middle of the floor. Like sad cotton candy. I looked up into the hole in the ceiling. I could see even more insulation and the framing in the crawl space. I could see past that and outside. Plus, there was the tree limb. It was in the crawl space area and small branches had come through the ceiling and had fallen haphazardly on my bedroom floor.

“I’ve always wanted a skylight,” I said to myself, seeing the blue sky through the hole in the roof. No. That couldn’t stay. I had a tarp in the garage I could put over the hole until the repairs could be made.

My cell rang. I grabbed it, hoping it was the insurance adjustor telling me someone could come out today to at least patch the roof.

“Crap.” I answered the call because I never knew what my mom’s emotional state would be. She often needed me to talk her off some ledge or other, and not always metaphorically speaking. The woman suffered from depression. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi sweetheart.”

I could hear the strain of stress in her voice.

Oh boy.

“What’s up?”

Something was always going on. Whether it was drama between her and her sisters or her boss at work or that she’d seen my dad in town, there was always something that triggered my mom.

“Oh, honey, you won’t believe what happened. My air conditioner you bought me got damaged during the storm last night.”

“Oh no!”

This was Montana. Air conditioners were rare because it didn’t get all that hot. Maybe a week of uncomfortable temperatures, but it cooled down at night. But I’d bought my mom a unit a few years ago because her allergies made her so miserable, and she was having trouble sleeping. Depressed people who don’t get their sleep could go downhill fast. I knew cool, filtered air definitely helped with allergies and sleep.

“It’s terrible! I don’t know what to do. Do you think the insurance will cover it because of the storm?”

I sighed, looking at my own insurance nightmare. “Yes, but the deductible probably won’t be worth it.”

“Oh.” She sounded depressed.

Fuck it. I didn’t have the money, but I’d figure it out. “Mom, call an HVAC company to come out and take care of it.”

“I don’t think I can afford it if the insurance won’t pay,” my mom said weakly.

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