A Little Bit of Crazy (Little Bits) Read online

  I sigh with relief when I catch sight of him stepping into the elevator. “James!” I call and dash through the closing doors. Before he can ask me what I’m doing I launch at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. He grunts at the force of my power slam but his hands quickly catch me with little effort.

  “Maya what’s wrong?” I notice how he buries his face in my hair and inhales deeply. It makes me shudder a little.

  “I didn’t sleep with anyone in Vegas. Or after our wedding,” I say, my voice quiet, my lips pressed to his ear. He lowers me to the ground and holds me at arm’s length. “I did about a week before our wedding, but I thought,” sigh, “If you’d said no messing around from the engagement I would’ve done that too you know. I would’ve just ended up coming to you. My libido sucks.”

  He winces a little at my announcement of my sexual encounter before our wedding but says nothing. His perfect plump lips purse a little and he bites down on his bottom lip. Making me a little jealous of his teeth.

  The door dings open, showing the large lobby full of people, staff and visitors. “Let’s go home?” I ask with a small smile. “Together?”

  “You want to?” I hate the look of disbelief on his face although I know it’s my fault it’s there.

  “Nope,” Sarcastically I roll my eyes and then lace our fingers. “Come on. Let’s go. Before your member shrivels up and runs away.”

  “You are so vulgar,” he chuckles and pulls me through the gaping crowds. Yes people, we are finally acting like husband and wife. I think.

  Is this what married people do?

  How the hell should I know? I’m you! If you don’t know then neither will I.

  Right.

  And home we go.

  We moved into his apartment after the wedding, I always loved his apartment. It’s a penthouse with two bedrooms, nice kitchen, Jacuzzi on the large balcony, a personal gym. House keeper, cleaners. Large sitting room with huge TV. Dining room, with awesome views of the city. He wanted to buy a new house, I insisted this was perfect, I wouldn’t be caught dead in a suburban area, I like the city too much. So much going on all the time.

  “I think this is the first time since before the engagement we’ve actually walked in here together,” I grin, nudging him with my shoulder.

  “Actually, there was a few times before our wedding I had to peel you off the city streets in your drunken states,” he raises his eyebrows. I giggle, “Oh yeah. My bad. Technically you carried me.”

  “So, what do you want to do?”

  I snort, noticing the awkward shift in the atmosphere. “We’re married, what do married couples do?”

  “Watch movies, talk about their day?” he raises his eyebrows and leads me to the couch with a hand at the nape of my neck. “Cook together.”

  “You didn’t mention sex.”

  “Do you always think about sex?”

  I tap my chin in thought and pull him to sit beside me. Crossing my legs I face him. “Pretty much. You’re only twenty eight, it should be all you think about.”

  “Twenty six.”

  “Really? Wow. I don’t even know my husband’s age,” I find this so hilarious. Laughter takes over me, to the point where I have to clutch my stomach much like my dad did when he tricked me in the car. “I think it’s safe to say I’m the worst wife ever. Maybe we should start there.”

  “Where?” he smirks, how fucking hot. Growl.

  I blink those dirty thoughts away, “Well, you pretty much know me. I’m crazy, sex crazed, party crazed, work crazed, coffee crazed, chocolate crazed.”

  “That’s a whole lot of crazed,” he grins and plays with a lock of my hair. His knuckles lightly brush my nipple as he winds the lock from my waist to my shoulder and back down again. Crafty.

  I shudder and clear my throat, “My favorite color is…”

  “Dark purple and grey.”

  “Right, what’s yours? Wait don’t tell me… it’s ummm… green?”

  “Brown, like melted chocolate.”

  “My hair is that shade,” I smirk as he shuffles closer, his green eyes as dark as moss now. “Continue.”

  “Violet, like your freaky eyes, another favorite,” he breathes and wraps his hand around the nape of my neck. “Peach, like your lips.” Even closer. Oh boy. “Cream, like your skin,” he tilts forward, his words barely a whisper across my lips. “Red, like the flush in your cheeks when you’re excited.” His lips graze mine. Ah screw this word foreplay. I slam into him and devour his mouth, my leg wraps over his and moments later I’m straddling him as our tongues dance.

  “God dammit,” I groan a little loud as his trousers bulge beneath me, putting pressure on my cooter. Oh hell yeah. “Do that again.” He groans and shifts his hips causing the burning in my stomach to increase tenfold.

  I stand up dragging him with me and rip his shirt, buttons fly and scatter across the wooden floor. It’s sexy. He laughs a little as I run my fingers up his amazing abs and over his tight, muscled chest. Oh god, I’m going to come before he even touches me. I’m already wet. I need him.

  “Slow down,” he smiles as I fumble with his belt.

  “Nuh-uh, slow next time. Fuck now,” I manage to grunt. It’s a little incoherent but by the way his eyes darken I’m guessing he understands. His green eyes smolder as I pull my panties down, kicking them to the side and pull him until my back is against the wall. “Need you.”

  “Ok baby,” he says, his tone low and seductive as he rips his belt away. I tug on his trousers, watching as they fall to the floor, revealing a naked cock standing proud and rather large.

  Hell yes.

  Agreeing with myself.

  First time for everything.

  My eyes widen but I waste no time ogling at the perfect man before me. I rip off my shirt and throw it over his shoulder before pulling a condom from the pad compartment in my bra and rolling it onto his amazing, hot, straight, solid man thing.

  “Christ Maya,” he pants and I pull off my bra. He dives for my right nipple, sucking it into his eager mouth. “You’re so beautiful. Although I’m a little concerned about the hidden condom.”

  “Talk later. Lift me,” I moan and wrap my arms around his neck. “Time for bang bang.”

  “Even something as childish as bang bang sounds fucking sexy when it comes from you.”

  “Less talky more corky.”

  His body starts shaking with silent laughter and his head drops to my neck. “Corky?”

  I grunt and wrap my legs around him, nudging at him with my soaking folds. His laughter stops and he pulls back to look at me, using his body to keep me pinned to the wall as his hands caress my face. It’s a little too romantic, I’m not sure if I like it. Just give me the boom boom already. I can see the hesitation and argument plaguing his mind.

  “Come on man, you’re killing me here, don’t make me beg,” I groan and shuffle against him. “What’s wrong now?”

  “I just imagined our first time to be,” he exhales whilst thinking of the word I assume. “Slow, romantic, whatever. I never thought we’d…”

  I sigh and squeeze my thighs against his hips, desperate for him to relieve the burning between my thighs. “I don’t do slow. You’re a guy, you get to fuck. I’m not asking for the cuddles and the flowers. I’m asking for pure, hot, fucking. We aren’t in love, so we don’t make love.”

  “Christ,” he is clearly not happy with my choice of words and then his eyes narrow. “You will fall in love with me.”

  “Sure I will.”

  He growls and slams into me, his hands grope the soft globes of my ass as he pounds me into the wall.

  Forget the wall, he’s pounding me into next year.

  His movements match that of a feral animal. His eyes are angry, intense. Large hands grab every inch of skin they can reach as my nails dig into his shoulders and my teeth sink into his neck. He cries out as I shift with him, matching his movements, grinding against him. It’s almost painfu
l, I’m so full but the pleasure outweighs it by a lot.

  “Maya,” he murmurs and his forehead rests against mine. I close my eyes, too intimate. Keep it at a fuck. “Look at me.”

  “No, don’t stop,” I groan as his hips slam into my thighs. He hisses through his teeth as I bite his neck once more. “James. Oh, fuck, James.”

  His body begins to tremble, his eyes widen and his lips rest over mine. “Don’t move,” he growls into my mouth and presses me hard against the wall, his manhood throbbing inside of me as his movements stop. “You’re so wet, so tight. I can barely control myself.”

  I shiver as he peppers feather light kisses and tiny licks across my damp neck. His hand grips my hair almost painfully, pulling my head back to give him more access as his other hand grips my hip, effectively pinning my lower half to him. I’m so close, the burning ache is ready to be released.

  “Fuck this,” I growl and tug his hair so he’s looking at me and not on my neck. The goofy grin on his face almost makes me laugh. I kiss the corner of his mouth and wiggle my hips. His eyes close, his jaw clenches but all hope is lost. I watch as his entire body tightens, amazed at the groan that vibrates from his chest and through me. Then he throws his head back and begins to thrust mercilessly into me. He cries out my name, over and over.

  As if my trigger is linked to his words my insides tighten around his pulsing length and I come. Oh yes I come. My libido is screaming, I’m screaming. Total chaos comes over my nerves as my entire body burns as my stomach clenches. Milking him as he comes. Too intimate, I’ve never allowed myself to orgasm with another person, but that was the best orgasm I think I’ve ever felt.

  He drops his head onto mine, our sweaty foreheads touching. His eyes search mine, I’m sure I look dazed and confused, that’s how I feel. Dazed and confused. Confused and dazed. Yet utterly spent and shockingly content in his strong arms.

  “That was amazing,” he says, a small smile touching his lips as we calm our heavy breathing. “I always knew you’d be good but…”

  “How long until you’re ready for round two big boy?”

  “More corky?” he snorts making me roll my eyes and slap him. It’s then I realize we’re still connected, his semi still buried deep inside. “Bed?”

  “We are not sleeping in the same bed,” I laugh and he drops my legs, pulling out of me instantly. “I don’t sleep in the same bed.”

  “Christ, you’re the female version of a male whore. If you didn’t want that then why do this?”

  “I made no promises.”

  His eyes narrow in anger, he turns and dumps the condom in the bin. “Aren’t you on birth control?”

  I nod, “I don’t do it without a condom.”

  “Don’t trust me?”

  I sigh and scoop up my shirt, “Of course I trust you. I just don’t do it without a condom.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “Must you?”

  “Yup.”

  I let out another exasperated sigh. “It’s too intimate. I don’t do intimate.”

  “Sex isn’t intimate?” he scoffs, his tone sarcastic, laced in disbelief. “That felt pretty intimate to me.”

  “You are like a girl… seriously. I’m every man’s dream. No strings attached sex, no love, no accidental babies, no wedding, just a good fuck and a goodbye!” I practically shout in frustration. “What is wrong with you?”

  “We already did the wedding,” he shouts, his face scrunched in anger and hurt. “I don’t want just a fuck and a goodbye! I married you so I could feel that every day.”

  “Then I promise to do that every day,” I shrug, nonchalant.

  He groans as if I’m completely idiotic, which I probably am when it comes to receiving another’s affections, “You know what I mean!”

  “Actually I don’t!”

  “I want you to love me Maya, dammit, that’s all I want! I want your heart. Not just your vows, or your loyalty. I want all of you!” His eyes practically bulge from his head as he grips my arms and shouts in my face. “Don’t shut me out. Let me in. We’re already married, you’re stuck with me until death. So why shut me out?”

  “I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises. I don’t do relationships. We’ll get on better this way. Love makes people stupid and blind and it hurts. I’ve seen normal, hardworking people turn to mush and then completely withdraw when their hearts have broken. I’m not going through that. We have a marriage, it can be a good one as long as we have regular sex and stay out of each other’s way.”

  “If you’re going to try then stay with me tonight, in our bed,” he practically begs clearly ignoring my little speech. I relent, I can’t say no to that gorgeous pouting face.

  “Fine, but you’re cooking dinner,” I huff and storm into my room to change. He didn’t think I noticed the victorious fist pump in the air as I left the living room. What a tool, but a nice tool. I don’t know why a man like him bothers with me. I’m messed up, crazy, grieving, not a good combination. Even when I’m not grieving I’m still those other things.

  Looking at the picture on my nightstand my eyes burn at the sight of me on my dad’s shoulders as a scrawny snotty kid. He was one in a short list of people that truly loved me. I loved him dearly, more than anyone. This pain, this emptiness in my chest, this need to cry at his death every fucking minute of every god damn day. I can’t cope with that again.

  If I let him in, James I mean, I’ll only end up losing him. This marriage is a partnership not a declaration of love. I thought he understood that, maybe he was just hoping I’d change my mind. Not in a million years. Though I mean what I said, I will try harder. I just won’t open my heart.

  CHAPTER THREE

  So I change into one of his white tops with some band logo on the front that I stole from the fresh laundry pile a few weeks ago, it reaches my knees. I really am tiny compared to him, bearing in mind I’m five foot seven and tower over most of my friends. When it comes to James I feel so petite and feminine in his arms, so safe. Like I did with my dad, my dad always made me feel safe and warm and loved.

  I wonder if that’s another reason I agreed to marry James. My own fear of being alone.

  Yeah right. Alone is great, alone is freedom.

  I pad into the dining room after finishing up what work I have left, my waist length hair fanning around me in thick waves. My face free of make-up and thick, dark purple, soft wool socks cover my feet to my knees. I’d never normally let a guy see me in such a state but James is different. He’s seen me at my worst plenty of times and he seems to like me more than any of the dickheads I’ve messed around with before. Funny how that works right?

  The room is lit by nothing but four candles sat in the center of the large table, right at the end where two plates are set and the soft bluish glow of the moon hums through the floor to ceiling window. I notice how James is sat on the end and my spot is to his right. He’s trying for romance. God damn him.

  I want to scowl at him but I can’t bring myself to do it, he looks nervous, he knows he’s pushing it. Christ, am I really that much of a bitch?

  Yep.

  “Hey,” he smiles at me and pulls my chair out. “You should never wear make-up and stop tying your hair up.”

  “You should never do compliments or romantic dinners by candlelight,” I retort only half joking as I look at the strange smelling pasta dish. It smells divine, just weird, like nothing I’ve ever smelt before. A mix of lemon and other herbs and spices in the dark orange sauce. “Ok, I’ll accept the dinners if you cook like this constantly.”

  “This is one of three things I can make without burning,” he chuckles and pours me a little whiskey. Oh hell yes, why was I moaning about him before? “Would you prefer wine?”

  I shake my head and take a bite of the amazing pasta, holy hell. So much flavor. “What are the other two things?”

  “Huh?”

  “You know,” I laugh. “The other two things you can make without burning.”

 
; “You don’t like it?” he looks horrified, I feel sorry for him. Not a common emotion for me unless I’m watching an advert on TV for sick children, then I’m donating right away. I’m such a sap for poorly animals and kiddies. “I love it,” I practically growled as he reached over to take my plate. “I’m just interested.”

  “Oh, well,” he looks relieved and a little shocked. Maybe at the fact I’m interested in someone beside myself? Aww. “Cereal and soup. Microwaved soup.”

  I can’t help the laughter that bubbles up. I’m laughing so hard I almost choke on the pasta in my mouth.

  “My mum taught me to cook but this is the only thing I was ever successful at,” he laughs along with me. “Funny thing is, it’s the most complicated.”

  I manage to calm myself and sip a little whiskey. “Well this is great. Thanks.”

  “Totally worth it,” he grins and presses his knee into my thigh. “Hurry up and finish, I want to take you to bed.” Eye roll. “I don’t mean like that. I just… Damn, I’m completely fucking this up.”

  “I know what you meant, that’s the problem. You meant you wanted to go to bed and cuddle until sleep takes us away. Are you like this with all the women you screw, or just your wife?” I wag my eyebrows playfully. He snorts but says nothing.

  “I know you told me not to ask, but… how are you doing?”

  I stop pulling the duvet back and look at him. “I’m fine.”

  “When a woman says she’s fine it means she’s not.”

  “I think we’ve established I’m not like a normal woman, when I say I’m fine I mean the actual definition of fine. I’m ok. No I’m not great, yes I’m angry, upset, a little confused and missing my dad like hell but otherwise I am fine.”

  He nods seeming satisfied and climbs into bed. I stand and stare for a moment, then another, then another, by god he looks beautiful in nothing but his boxers. “I don’t bite.”