Worthless Read online

  “That’ll be crazy.”

  “Yeah.”

  They lapsed into silence once more, both looking up at the ceiling.

  “Did your work thing get settled?” she asked.

  “Work thing? Oh, you mean the two kids who wanted VIP? Told Joe the story. Not sure what’ll happen.”

  “They sound like assholes,” she said.

  “You’d be correct,” he answered. “But I can’t control their actions. I can only control my reactions to their behavior.”

  “Smart,” she said. “Is that something from rehab? Like step nine of the twelve steps?”

  “No. It’s something my mom used to tell me all the time. When I was younger, I was a little control freak, but my mom tried to drum it into me that it’s impossible to control the world around you. You can only control yourself.”

  “And sometimes, not even that,” she said, quietly, and he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.

  He let her words float around the dark room for a few minutes, as words do once they’re out there. Then he had to ask. “What is it you want to control?”

  Next to him, her chest rose and fell, and then she rolled onto her side. “Not supposed to be on my back. Some weird pregnancy rule.”

  Hmm. He’d have to do more reading in his library copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. “You’re avoiding the question.”

  “I’m allowed. I’m pregnant.” She released a long yawn, and it spread to him, forcing him to yawn also.

  “You’re loving that excuse, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “And I’m loving letting you get away with shit. Don’t answer the question. Tell me about work.”

  She released a beautiful vulgar curse. “That zeroes right back to the control question.”

  “What’s going on?” His hand found her arm under the covers and he traced gentle lines up and down her forearms. Being in her bed, in her presence had his craving back to manageable. As long as he kept her awake talking, he could fight it back.

  “I…no, never mind.”

  “Amy,” he said, “you can tell me anything. I promise that anything you say can’t be worse than something I’ve done.”

  She was quiet for a moment, then, “Probably true.”

  “Definitely true.”

  “I’m not designing,” she whispered. He wondered if she realized her palms were resting on his torso, caressing gently.

  She waited for his response, holding her breath and feeling his warm taut skin under her hands. As always, when near Danny, she wanted to run her hands or lips all over his skin. He was in a pretty bad place tonight, so for his sake, she kept her hands as still as possible. It wouldn’t be fair to instigate anything sexual, especially after reiterating that they were platonic.

  And if her body wanted more, seeing him freak out tonight had hammered home exactly why they should remain platonic. He’d kind of lost it. If she hadn’t been home to pull him into her bed, what would he have done? He’d admitted he was craving drugs. After his sister’s confession, his reaction had been to seek solace in losing himself.

  What about when they had a kid? Kids were not an oasis of calm. You either learned to handle your shit or be prepared for emotional upheaval on a regular basis. Could she trust Danny not to backtrack?

  “What do you mean you’re not designing?” he asked. “I’ve been to your store. It’s full of clothes.”

  “None of them mine,” she said. His breath was hot on her forehead, and her lips were half an inch from his pectoral, the one with the tattoo that looked as though he’d drawn on himself with his non-dominant hand. He smelled like cut grass and something muskier, earthier. “Well, I should say that I’m designing. I have notebooks full of sketches.”

  “But?”

  “But I haven’t priced any of them out for manufacturing,” she said. “I gathered the contacts. I want my clothes made here in Florida, and there’s a factory that employs formerly abused women. I took a tour of it, met with the floor manager, but I never signed the contract or sent them a single design to sew.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  Her nails dug slightly into his skin. “If I knew, I could fix it, right?”

  “Not always, but you know the answer, Amy. It’s the same thing that always stops people.”

  “Fear,” she whispered.

  “Yeah. What are you scared of?”

  “Everything.”

  “Not true,” he said. “If you were scared of everything, you wouldn’t have taken over your mom’s store and made it amazing. You wouldn’t have let me move in. What is it about having your designs made into clothes that has you running scared?”

  “What if my designs don’t translate? I can count on one hand the number of designers that design for bigger women. I design specifically for curvy bodies, but what if I’m wrong? What if my clothes look awful on women?”

  “They won’t,” he said, full of a confidence she wished she could bottle.

  “How do you know?”

  “Amy, have you looked in a mirror? I don’t know shit about clothes and fashion, but I do know you always look amazing. I swear, I look forward every morning to seeing what you walk out of your room wearing.”

  “Really?” Her heart pounded at his words.

  “Swear. I also look forward to seeing you.”

  The last was said in a low voice, so low, it took her brain a moment to register, but then her heart took over and she leaned in to give him the kiss that had been on her lips all day. It was soft, sweet, and just for him.

  His grip on her arm tightened for a moment and then his lips were planted on hers. Hard. Hard enough to feel it in every needy, tingly inch of her body.

  Then he pulled back, leaving her lonely and cold. “Don’t do that, Amy. Not fair.”

  “You’re right.” Tears tried to push their way out of her eyes, but she blinked them back. “I’m sorry. Let’s go to sleep.” She rolled, giving him her back. She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep given how her body was urging her to throw caution to the wind and lay her heart open for Danny, but pregnancy was an amazing thing and she was sleeping in minutes.

  Hours later, she didn’t know how many, because Danny’s body was blocking her view of the alarm clock, she woke in the throes of a dream. A dream so vivid, her body was having a hard time distinguishing between reality and slumber. In her dream, she’d been tied to a platform. One of those weird dream things where you know it’s a wooden stage, but strangely padded and comfortable.

  Her arms and legs had been anchored spread eagle, and a faceless man had stood over her. Yet she’d known it was Danny. In the dream he’d held her captive, licking her, fingering her and using other devices on her, bringing her to the brink of orgasm but pulling back.

  When dream-Danny had threatened dream-her that he’d keep her on edge forever, she’d woken in a panic, her body feeling the arousing effects of the dream as if it had really been her on the cusp of orgasm.

  Her fingers—in real life, not bound—found their way between her legs, and she released a little whimper at how close she was. One or two strokes and she’d be coming.

  “Amy?”

  With a gasp, she released her hand from between her legs, slamming it on the side of her body, only Danny’s body was too close, and she ended up slamming her arm onto him.

  “Oof.” He released a little grunt, but recovered quickly. “Are you all right? I heard you moan. Is it the baby?”

  “No. I’m fine.” Except she wasn’t fine. Her body was on fire with the need to come to the point of pain. “Sorry for waking you.”

  “It’s okay. I’m a light sleeper. It’ll be good when the baby’s here. I can do the nighttime stuff.”

  She didn’t respond and scissored her legs, trying for relief.

  “Amy, you’re breathing as if you’re running. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I had a dream,” she said.

  “Nightmare. I know a
bout those.”

  “No. A…sexy dream.” Her words fell into the dark abyss of night when you could say things that you wouldn’t in the light of day.

  “Oh.” He fell silent, then propped himself on his elbows. “I read about that. Some pregnant women get dreams that are almost like wet dreams.”

  Since hers had been almost exactly like that, her cheeks heated. Thank goodness it was dark. “Danny! Can we not talk about it?”

  “Was that what it was like?” he asked, ignoring her demands he drop the subject.

  “Not exactly.” If it had been, she would’ve found fulfillment. “Let’s try to get back to sleep. Tomorrow’s a workday.”

  They fell back into silence, and it seemed that Danny had easily fallen back asleep again, but she was too antsy, too aroused to relax enough for sleep. Her skin and nerve endings felt like one tense ball of need.

  If only Danny weren’t in the bed with her, she could pull out her vibrator and take care of business. Or if they were a different kind of couple, she could verbally state her needs, climb on him and use his body.

  But he was next to her and she’d made it clear to him and to his sister that she didn’t want him as her lover. God, she was an idiot. At long last after much tossing and turning, she finally drifted back to sleep.

  The dream she slipped into was even better and more vivid than the first. This time, Danny was the one tied up and she was in charge and riding his dick as if their lives depended on it.

  “Amy,” he groaned.

  “I’m in charge,” she said.

  “Okay, but this’ll be better if we take our underwear off.”

  Her eyelids flew open. “Oh my God. Ohmigod.” Somehow her dream had become her reality, and she’d rolled over on top of Danny and had her thighs spread around his hips and was using him to get herself off.

  She tried to push off, but his hands grabbed her hips and kept her in place. He gave a thrust, and she couldn’t help it, she moaned. Not like a little deep moan, but a mewling needy, back of her throat moan.

  “That’s right, baby. Use me.” Danny’s hands were tight on her hips and his erect cock was hitting her where she needed it, but her greedy body wanted more. “I’m yours.”

  “Shh.” She closed her eyes and concentrated on where their bodies were touching, specifically his cock, her pussy. She ground into him harder, needing more pressure, but she’d been millimeters away from an orgasm in her dream and it took only a second to get her there now.

  Even with two layers of cloth between them, her body rippled into orgasm from the mere pressure of feeling him under her. “More,” she gasped out.

  “Take off your panties,” he instructed.

  She had temporary amnesia when it came to her relationship with him. It’s complicated might as well be tattooed onto her forehead. Gone was her insistence they were platonic. Gone was her belief that he’d prefer Kym to her. And gone was her fear of his addiction, when mere hours ago, he’d been in the middle of a spiral of backsliding. In its place was her body and its deepened craving for him. Violently, she tore her panties down her legs, wrenching them off her body, while he mimicked her actions.

  She remounted him and positioned him into place. As the tip of his head, breached her swollen, aching passage, she froze. “Are you sure?” For the first time, she opened her eyes fully and focused on him.

  He gave her a crooked smile. “I told you, you can use me, and I’ll take you any way I can get you. I understand it’s just sex for you.”

  She started to push her way down onto him.

  “You might be pregnant, but we use condoms,” he said, and she looked at him, taking in his serious expression.

  “All right,” she whispered, and reached over into the nightstand for the box she’d purchased when she’d thought condoms might be necessary for her and Mitch. She’d never imagined ripping into the box for use with Danny.

  No, not true. She couldn’t lie to herself. The condom box remained sealed because she could only imagine using them with Danny. Now she had him, and she positioned him and sank down onto him.

  They groaned in unison.

  “Jesus, Amy. Feels amazing.”

  She had no words, because he was right. She’d come five minutes ago, but already her body was in hyper gear, building her arousal to a second orgasm. It was going to be a long pregnancy if she was alternating between nausea and wanting sex.

  She kept him deep inside her, swiveling her hips on his body, using him with one goal in sight which was to get off.

  “I’m close,” he warned.

  “Good, because I am too,” she panted out. Using her inner muscles, she squeezed around him, relishing his reaction which was a cross between a moan and a mash-up of creative curse words that sent them both into a screaming orgasm.

  She clung to him as long as she could, as the shudders of their pleasure calmed down. At last, her body felt sated and exhausted. With her last ounce of energy, she rolled off him back onto her side of the bed. She fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  The next morning she woke a little later than usual to find herself alone in bed. Danny wasn’t in his room, nor was he in the kitchen. There was a note tucked under a flower from the backyard.

  Amy, Headed to work early. Thanks for being there for me last night. Go kick the shit out of your designs. I believe in you. Dinner tonight?

  Love,

  D

  PS Eat the ginger snaps for breakfast and there’s watermelon cut in the fridge. Read that’s good for nausea.

  Holding the note to her lips, she covered her smile. Waking in her bed this morning, her first thoughts had been anxiety and nerves that she was messing things up between them, that she wasn’t being fair giving mixed signals. She absolutely couldn’t keep sleeping with him and claiming they didn’t have a relationship.

  She’d survived his first real setback when he’d been a shaking mess, craving drugs. Instead of fearing or loathing him, it had been easy to be present for him and support him through the worst of the need. And now this morning, he was taking care of her with food and flowers. Was she on for dinner with him tonight? Yes. Absolutely.

  “Surprise.” The voice came from behind a huge bunch of red roses, obviously picked up at the supermarket down the street. Mitch poked his head out from behind the blooms and came closer for a kiss, oblivious to Amy’s wide-eyed stare. She’d arrived a little late to work today, knowing Cat could manage opening. As she came through the back door of the store, she was confronted by the unexpected and unwanted reality of Mitch’s appearance.

  “Mitch. What are you doing here?” She let him kiss her cheek, then quickly backed off, taking the flowers out of his hands and going to put them on her desk, then hurrying back. She’d been so busy thinking about her pregnancy and her feelings for Danny, that Mitch had barely been on her radar.

  “Got back late last night and took a personal day. I’m taking you out for breakfast and maybe to the glass exhibit at Fairchild Gardens.”

  “Mitch, I work. It’s sweet of you to take a personal day, but I need a little more notice.”

  “You’re the owner. Surely you can take a day. Cat’ll watch things, right, Cat?” He exuberantly gestured, knocking his hand into a rack of blouses.

  Cat’s face was devoid of expression as she pretended to be busy straightening an already perfect stack of sweaters. Amy had no idea what was going through her mind, but she could imagine. Cat wasn’t going to remain impartial or indifferent. Not when Amy was pregnant with her brother’s baby.

  “I’m afraid we’re really busy today, but I can do lunch,” she said, realizing she needed to break up with him. No matter what happened with Danny, Mitch was too nice a guy to be led around and given false hope.

  He looked around the empty store and gave her a questioning look. She did her best to keep calm and look cheerful. Or maybe it was rude to go to lunch first. He’d be nice and pay, and then she’d feel badly when she dumped him.

  “It’s
a little early for lunch,” he said. “What should I do until then?” He actually looked a little sulky.

  Use your imagination, Amy wanted to say, but instead she shrugged. “How about a little brunch instead?”

  “All right.” He looked marginally more cheerful at her concession.

  “Cat, you’re good watching the store?”

  Cat gave a salute. “On it.”

  When Mitch walked to the front of the store, she hurried over to Cat for a whispered conference.

  “What are you going to do?” Cat asked in hushed tones.

  She glanced behind her. “Break up with him, I guess.”

  “You guess? Are you going to tell him about the baby?”

  “I don’t think so. It complicates things, right? It’s not really his business since we never slept together.”

  Cat shook her head. “Good luck. I think he really likes you. This’ll be a hard pill for him to swallow. Go easy.”

  She squeezed her friend’s hand. “I will. Thanks. Can I pick up anything for you? A smoothie?” Cat had a weakness for fruit smoothies at Moon Juice.

  Cat’s expression brightened. “That’s a good idea. Go for smoothies. Easier to break up while you’re walking and talking.”

  “Amy, you ready?” Mitch called from the front door.

  “Coming,” she said, holding up a finger. “Bye. Think happy thoughts for me,” she whispered. She hurried to the front of the store where Mitch waited. As they exited onto the sidewalk, she couldn’t help it, she glanced to her right at Kym’s store to check out the patronage there. She was happy to see Kym’s store was as empty as her black heart. Only an unfamiliar sales clerk, who could’ve been Kym’s body double, was visible through the window.

  “Where to?” Mitch asked.

  “Uh, how about a smoothie? I finished a late breakfast, so I’m not starving.”

  “All right,” he agreed, and they started walking down the main road side by side. She racked her brains trying to figure out the timing. Did she tell him now or after smoothie purchase? Now seemed cruel. At least treat the guy to a smoothie, right?

  “You look very pretty today,” he said.