Reaper's Legacy(2)

Was that it?

Huh …

“Oh, f*ck that’s good.”

The apartment door opened as Zach collapsed between my legs, oblivious to the world. I couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as a man walked in.

I didn’t know him, but he couldn’t have been Zach’s brother. He didn’t look anything like Zach, who was taller than me, but not by a whole lot. This guy was really tall, and muscular in the way men who work with their hands get from heavy lifting on the job.

He wore a black leather vest with patches over a ratty T-shirt and jeans that had streaks of dark motor oil or grease or something. A half rack of beer dangled from one hand. His hair was short and dark. Almost military. His lip was pierced and he wore two rings in his left ear and one in his right, like a pirate. Eyebrow was pierced, too. His features were bluntly handsome, but nobody would ever call him pretty. Big black boots covered his feet, and the chain from his wallet hung low across his hip. One of his arms had a full-sleeve tattoo. The other had a skull with crossed blades behind it.

He stopped in the doorway and looked us over, slowly shaking his head.

“I told you what I’d do if you broke into my place again,” he said quietly. Zach popped up and his face went white. His entire body—with one notable exception—stiffened. I felt that exception slither out of me, along with some fluid, and realized we hadn’t even bothered to put a towel down or anything.

Ewww.

But how was I supposed to know we’d need a towel?

“Shit,” Zach said, his voice a tight squeak. “Ruger, I can explain—”

“Don’t f*ckin’ explain,” Ruger said, pushing forward into the room. He slammed the door shut behind him and walked over to the couch. I tried to hide my head in Zach’s chest, more ashamed and embarrassed than I’d ever been in my life.

Flowers. Were flowers too much to ask?

“Jesus Christ, what is she? Twelve?” Ruger asked, giving the couch a kick. It shuddered under me, and Zach sat up, pulling away from my body. I shrieked and pushed my hands down between us, trying to cover myself from his brother’s gaze.

Shit. SHIT.

Then it got worse.

The brother—Rooger? whatever the hell kind of name that was—looked right at me as he leaned across my body, grabbing a folded blanket from the back of the couch.

He tossed it over my crotch.

I moaned and died a little inside. My legs were still spread wide, my skirt up high around my waist. He’d seen everything. Everything. This was supposed to be the most romantic night of my life and now I just wanted to go home and cry.

“I’m takin’ a shower and by the time I’m done, you need to be gone,” Ruger said, getting in Zach’s face. My boyfriend flinched. “And stay the f*ck outta my apartment.”

With that, he walked down the hall to the bathroom, banging the door shut. Seconds later I heard the shower come on. Zach jumped up, muttering.

“Asshole. He’s such a goddamn *.”

“Was that your brother?”

“Yeah. He’s a prick.”

I sat up and straightened my shirt. Thank God I hadn’t taken it off. Zach loved to touch my breasts, but we’d actually moved pretty fast once we got started. I managed to get to my feet, holding the blanket in front of me while I pulled down my skirt. I had no idea where my panties had gone, but a quick look around didn’t reveal them. I leaned over the couch, digging in the pillows, hunting. No luck, but I managed to stick my hand in the disgusting wet spot we’d left behind.

I felt like such a whore.

“Fuck!” Zach yelled behind me. My head jerked up—how could things possibly get any worse? “Holy f*ck, I cannot f*cking believe this!”

“What’s wrong?”

“The condom broke,” he said, eyes wide. “The f*cking condom broke. This has got to be the worst night of my life. You better not be pregnant.”

The air froze in my lungs. Apparently things could get worse.

Zach held the broken rubber out toward me. I stared down at the nasty thing, not quite believing my bad luck.

“Did you do it wrong?” I whispered. He shrugged, not answering.

“It’s probably okay,” I said after another long pause. “I mean, my period just ended. You can’t get pregnant that soon after your period, right?”

“Um, yeah, probably,” he said, flushing and looking away. “I didn’t really pay attention to that shit in class. I mean, I always use a condom. Always. They never break, not even—”