Big Man's Contract

A cocky smile appears on his face—maybe he can tell, after all.

I try to remain cool and uninterested. It’s proving to be difficult.

“I can be your lifeline,” he says.

“But?” I add.

His laughter is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

“What’s the catch?” I ask. “There has to be one, right?”

His smile slides into more of a smirk. “Of course there is. Nothing in life is free.”

2

Madden

“So what is it? What do you want from me in exchange for you helping me return the Osprey into what it used to be?” she asks.

“Simple. I’ll help you achieve your dream if …” I pause and let the silence linger for effect before continuing, “you agree to spend one night in my bed.”

The look on her face is priceless. It’s exciting knowing that I can have any effect on her at all. It’s addicting. She’s always been beautiful, but when her lips open with surprise, her icy blue eyes open wide, and her cheeks flush, she’s a goddess. Lina Renier. Lina, Lina, Lina. I can’t believe she’s back. When I heard she moved away to LA, I thought I would never see her again. I wrote off that chapter in my life. But I never forgot about her. Not a single day went by when I didn’t think about her. She was always mean, always torturing someone. Everyone thought she was just a bitch, but I saw something else. I saw an insecure girl who only wanted to fit in, to make friends through any means possible. She lost her way and maybe she let her popularity get to her head. But there was more to her than that. Much more. When no one was around, she opened up to me. She let herself snort just a little when she laughed. She told jokes without fear of judgement. She was herself.

When my brother’s friend, Chuck, at the locksmith shop told me she was back, the news literally took the air from my lungs. Chuck even asked what was wrong and told me I looked as though I’d seen a ghost. Feels like I have. I couldn’t get my truck here fast enough. I floored it through town, making my way to the old Osprey. When I got out of the truck and saw Linny all grown up in tight jeans and red high heels, I almost forgot I was supposed to be pissed off for what she did to me all those years ago. On the way over, I hoped she had let herself go, or maybe married some movie star and ruined her face with plastic surgery. Maybe if she looked completely different from what I remember, I could let her go. She does look different, but at the same time she looks the same. She’s curvier than she was in high school and maybe a little taller, but she’s just as beautiful as I remember. Maybe even more.

Now she’s in front of me, stuck between accepting my offer and abandoning her goal. She’s too stubborn for the latter. At least I hope she is. The Linny I knew would never give up on her goals. I hope that part of her hasn’t changed.

My blood runs hot as I wait for her to answer. I’d love for her to beg or whine, try to convince me that the deal is unfair. I want her to squirm because she did much worse to me.

Astonishingly, she holds her head up high and says, “Fine.”

I cough out a laugh of surprise. I almost back up when she leans boldly toward me. She’s intimidating as all hell, just as she was in high school. Back then I would have shrugged away into the shadows, away from her powerful gaze that was always up to no good, but this time I hold my ground.

“You’ve clearly held a candle for me all these years,” she says. “Let’s just fuck right now and get it out of the way.”

My dick gets hard by her words without even thinking about it. I want to pounce on her right here, right now. Take her on this bar. But when her words finally sink in and I start to think with my brain instead of my dick, I realize that her teasing reminds me of how she was as a teenager, before she humiliated me in front of her friends.

I take her chin in one of my hands and run my fingers through her hair with the other. Her fake confidence falters. There, now that’s better. I had a feeling it was all bravado. She doesn’t get to be in control this time. I promised long ago that she would never have that kind of control over me ever again. It’s my turn to take charge.

I then reach over and grab her by the waist, pulling her up onto the bar, then sliding her onto my lap where I sit on a bar stool so that she straddles my waist. She hardly weighs a thing so it’s easy to move her as I please. She’s too shocked to do anything about it. Instead she stares at me with wide, curious—almost, but not quite fearful—eyes. She breathes quickly and her nervous heartbeat flutters against my chest. Her hands shake. She seems frozen in place. Good. I want her to know who’s boss now.