Page 20 of Vandal Unbound

My hand tightens around my hardening cock before I can stop it.

“Fuck.” The word comes out rough and low while the hot water beats against my shoulders. My cock jerks in my grip, thickening fast as Daisy fills my head so completely, it’s like she’s right here in this bathroom with me.

The cherry-print pajamas are getting soaked and cling to her taut nipples. She looks nervous, which stirs something in me. I don’t want to scare her, and yet…her fear gives all this an extra edge. It reminds me that becoming who I used to be is still an option, a pathway, even if I can’t see the direction to it yet.

I brace one hand against the tile wall and close my eyes as I stroke my length from root to tip.

This is a terrible idea, because I’m in no place to fixate on a woman I shouldn’t be fixating on. One with a goddamn kid, at that. But my body doesn’t seem to care. I visualize those slender fingers of hers tentatively wrapping around my cock like I’m something precious.

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter out loud. Don’t know why I’m waxing poetic about a woman jerking me off.

But I can’t stop. I imagine her looking up at me through those thick lashes while she parts her lips and takes the tip of me inside. Me wrapping my hand over hers to increase the firmness of her grip.

A harsh breath tears out of me. “Jesus Christ.”

My hand’s strokes shift from slow and tentative to the exact pace I need to come quickly. Before remorse gets the better of me and I lose all sensation. Before the whiskey and pills kick in and chase away the first real organic arousal I’ve had since before the accident.

Water beats down on me as I tip my head back beneath the spray.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I suck in air and sprays of water.

“Fuck. Fuck…” It’s right there. I want to come so bad, I can taste it, riding the edge in desperate need of the one thing that will push me over.

Come for me, Vandal.

Shit blurs. Her voice. The image of her on her knees, begging me. And when I do as she asks, I visualize it spilling all over those tits of hers.

I come hard. Wave after wave. For a second, I huff a laugh as this orgasm makes up for lost time.

But it’s so good, it feels like a burst of blue sky through the clouds. It’s so good, I don’t want it to end as I work myself down. My body shakes for a moment while I find my breath.

And for a heartbeat, I feel more like me.

7

DAISY

The uniform for Annie’s bar is pretty simple. A short and tight black skirt and any black T-shirt you want. I’m wearing an old Guns N’ Roses T-shirt that by any definition is vintage.

I call it desperation because there’s no way I can afford to buy any cute black tops for work just yet. At least, not until I get my paycheck. And even then, my last one has had to stretch further than it should already. Plus, there’s a growing list of things Elsie needs first.

And while I know my love for her is infinite, my finances are not.

Which is why I’m so glad Vandal did those repairs last night. I’m as capable as the next girl of looking up basic tasks on YouTube, but when it all starts to need tools like screwdrivers and washers and new bulbs, I need to tap out.

As I was getting ready this morning, everything I touched made me think of him. Grabbing the milk from the fridge for Elsie’s cereal. Running the water to make the coffee. Standing beneath a light that didn’t flicker.

But then I gave myself a good talking-to. If and when I eventually find a man, he won’t be a fixer-upper. He won’t need me to mother him or nag him. When he shows up, he won’t be drunk or high or smell like he hasn’t showered for days. He’ll already know how to take care of himself and will appreciate that while I can take care of myself, it would be amazing if he wanted to take care of me and Elsie too.

Then I’ll tell him the truth about who we really are.

“Can I get you guys anything else?” I ask two workmen who came in for lunch as I place their burgers on the table.

The one with kind blue eyes looks up at me. “Don’t suppose I could get your number?”

“Smooth,” his buddy says before he takes a bite of his burger.

I smile, politely, because I’m supposed to. “I appreciate the request, but the only numbers I’m going to be giving you today are your check.”