4.

The place was extremely empty today, I didn't know why, yet, I was grateful. I wasn't ready to converse with the public, not when my head was in the wrong place.

I couldn't get Nick off of my mind, especially after last night. I didn't know what happened but I had left his house way before he could get me into his bed.

I freaked out.

I moved back home, one, because I wanted to see my dad and two, because I had enough of men trying to take advantage of me at any given time; especially a certain man.

I shook my head. I needed to banish these thoughts.

There was no doubt in my mind that Nick was effecting me but I wasn't ready to give him everything just for me to be hit to the curb straight after. That wasn't me.

As soon as I had gotten to Nick's apartment, after a very steamy make out session in the back of a taxi, my heart was beating and anxiety decided to creep in. He got out of the taxi and I got back in. "I have to go, I'm sorry." I stated, and then I left him there on the curb with his hands in his pockets and the face of a man who was not going to get laid any time soon. Not by me anyway.

That was the last time I spoke to him or seen him since last night. I half expected him to walk in to the parlour today and demand another tattoo, or to demand a reason as to why I left him high and dry last night.

I was glad he didn't.

The phone rang and I picked it up. I was alone today working, dad said all I had to do was phone him and he'd be up to help. Today, however, I made him take a day for himself. He mumbled and grumbled but finally decided to take the day off.

The man on the other end of the phone booked an appointment for next week. He wanted half a sleeve on his arm which would cost quite a bit. As soon as the phone was put back into its cradle, I was bored and alone once again.

I could literally hear crickets cricketing the place was so dead. It was weird, dad said the place was always busy, and it was, I saw that, but some days the place was empty.

I was so excited when the clock hit four in the evening. With hardly anyone making appointments today and no customers I was happy to be locking up the place and going home.

As soon as I was home, I dumped my coat on a hanger and my other items in the bowl in the hall and made my way into the kitchen.

"Dad?" I shouted as I walked through the living room and on to the modern floor boards.

"I'm trying to make fried chicken." Glenn stood infront of the oven with the frier in his hands. He looked comical in his apron and perspiration on his brow.

"What the hell are you doing?" I laughed. The grease in the frier was sizzling to the top. He was struggling to control everything going on in the kitchen. He had never been the best cook.

"I just said what I'm trying to do." He replied as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Your mother used to make fried chicken. I thought I'd give it a go as we have company tonight." Glenn wasn't in love with my mother anymore but he looked up to her a lot, even if they didn't talk.

"Company?" I sat down on the barstool behind him. I turned around to keep an eye on his cooking.

"Just a few of the old pals." He stated. I sighed, old didn't mean Nick. I was grateful.

"Sounds nice." My eyes narrowed as I watched him shaking the frier in the hot grease. "For god sake, dad, leave the frier alone, I'll make dinner."

"You'd do that for me, Birdy?" He whipped around and gratitude was evident on his face. I laughed at him before nodding my head. He let out a huge sigh of relief and chucked the apron on to the dining room table. "I doubt you'll need an apron, you're too good."

"Even professionals need an apron." I rolled my eyes and picked it up from the table. I wrapped it around my body and had to tie a bow at the front.

I ditched the disaster my father had made and decided to start from scratch.

My dad hustled around me as I made dinner. I didn't know who was coming tonight but I was glad my father socialised with his friends regularly. Glenn was an extremely sociable man and could talk to a brick wall and still make friends.

"You remind me more of your mother every time I see you, you know." I smiled at his statement. I loved my mother, she was always so genuine, sweet and soothing. I, however, hated her new husband, with a passion. I shivered a little.

"Is that a compliment?" I asked jokingly.

"It is." My father replied. "You do take after me in the sense of humour department though. I'm just funnier." I scoffed.

"I'm not too sure about that." I started to dish out the chicken. I put the chicken legs into bowls and placed them on to the dining room table. I had also cooked wedges and plated them up next to the chicken.

"Ahhh, you're a star." Glenn came up to kiss me on the cheek before rushing off to the living room and sitting on his arm chair to watch the beginning of the football.

I went upstairs and decided on showering. I heard the door knock and his friends enter the house just as I turned on the shower.

I striped out of my clothes and got in to the piping hot shower. I let out a sigh of relief.

I was only in the shower for two minutes before I decided to leave. I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body.

Just as I opened the door, I nearly screamed at the figure before me. A hand clamped around my mouth so the sound wouldn't travel further, that was hard to do as my father had the football on extremely loud anyway.

"Fucking hell." Nick's voice was rough and deep as his burning hot eyes raked my body from head to toe. "You're a dirty fucking girl, Cathy."

"I've not done anything." I trembled as I spoke. Nick stood before me in black jeans and a white top got me all kinds of crazy. His tattoos were on show, from his muscled arms and up his neck. Fuck, he was too hot.

"Coming out in just a towel, dripping wet." He gruffed.

"I didn't know you were going to be here." I rolled my eyes. "It's my house, my shower, my privacy. Get the fuck out." I hissed as I pointed to the stairs. My skin was full of goosebumps at the close touch from Nick.

"You know, it's not exactly, what's the word..." he trailed off as he looked up to the ceiling. I leaned against the door frame and watched. "Satisfying to be left high and dry."

"I don't care." I pushed past him and made my way into my room. He followed. I went to shut the door in his face but he held it open with his hand. He was so strong. I huffed in annoyance.

"I know you wanted it too, you know."

"Fuck off." I muttered. Before I could say anything else, my back was up against the wall. What was with him slamming me on to hard surfaces? "Get the hell off me."

"No." His face cake close, until his nose was touching my neck. I started to pant. "No." He repeated.

"I'm not doing this with you again." God knows it was so hard to get out of the moment once I was in it. I said I was going to be strong, I said I wasn't going to let this happen. "Get off of me, I won't tell you again."

"Or what?

"What?" My eyebrows crossed on their own accord.

"What are you going to do about it?" He pushed his body closer to my body, his white t-shirt now a little wet too. I couldn't help but flicker my eyes down to his abs. He had such a stocky and powerful body. He was too sexy for his own good.

"I could scream blue bloody murder, believe me."

"I would like it." He smirked. Nick's eyes twinkled as he took on his boyish charm. He opened his mouth to reply, but a voice came travelling from outside of the door. I hadn't realised Nick had closed it.

"Cathy? Do you know where Nick has gone? I swear to God, if he is in there with you I am going to grab his balls and chuck them under the wheel of my car." His voice was twinged with a tiny bit of humour but the evidenence of threat was still there.

"Tell him I've gone for a fag." He whispered in my ear. Goosebumps arose again.

"He will try to find you."

"He won't. Go on, tell him." I couldn't speak. Nick's finger touched a spot on my thigh before it moved higher and higher. My mouth went dry.

"He's gone for a-a fag." I stuttered. His middle finger joined his other, my body shivered as they moved up my inner thigh.

"Good girl." Nick rasped. I heard footsteps move away from my door but I couldn't relax, not with his hands on me. They were so dangerously close, so close.

"Stop it." I breathed. "Please." I was going to cave, I was going to jump his bones any second now. I couldn't stop, I didn't want to, but I needed to.

"Your tattoos."

"What about them?" I could feel his breath against my skin.

"They're so bright."

"I like colour." I couldn't breathe.

"Why?" His fingers touched me, it was so feather like and soft, I wanted more.

"Nick." I moaned.

"Yes, baby?" He moaned against my neck. "Beg for me."

"No."

"Beg for me." He demanded more firmly.

"Please, Nick." I couldn't help it, I wanted to kick myself so hard in the face. But as soon as his touch was there, it was gone. "What the-"

"Not so satisfying, huh?" Nick's body backed away from mine. He continued to walk backwards, leaving me breathless and empty until he was by the bedroom door.

"You're a prick." I let out.

"I like it that way." He winked my way before leaving the bedroom. I looked at the now closed door with bewilderment. For God sake, Cathy, Jesus. I couldn't have just kept my bearings could I? I flopped onto the bed and sighed.

After ten minutes of feeling sorry for myself, I decided to get dressed and face the music. I wanted to stay upstairs forever and never leave, but I knew that wasn't ever going to happen. I took a deep breath and I went downstairs.

I could hear the men shouting and cursing from half way down the stairs. The football was on and it was a very competitive sport, especially in this house. I wonder what team Nick supported?

As soon as I opened the door, my father turned around to face me with a grin.

"We're winning." I laughed at his childish happiness but it made me happy within to see him this way. My eyes flickered over to Nick.

He was sat on the chair. I half expected him to be watching the TV, however, his eyes were trained on me. He looked so relaxed, his ankle crossed over his knee and his arm outstretched over the back of the arm chair. I swallowed and turned my attention back to my dad.

"Have you all eaten?"

"We have."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Best fried chicken I have ever had." A man from beside my father spoke. He had salt and peppered hair and looked older than my father. "Glenn did good." I laughed loudly.

"Oh, dad, come on." I bent over as I laughed. "He didn't make them, guys. I did." Still laughing, I made my way in to the kitchen.

I could hear their voices from within the living room.

"You're a liar, you sneaky bastard." Laughter filled the air.

"You didn't tell me Cathy could cook." Nick's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"I didn't need to." I could hear my father reply.

"I'm going for a fag." Shit. I moved over to the sink and began to wash up, making myself look useful instead of listening in.

"You're lungs will be black soon, my boy, you need to give up."

"Fuck off." Laughter filled the air once again.

I could feel his presence before he even spoke.

"What do you want?" I asked as I washed the grime off one of the China plates.

"Many things, darling, many things." I turned around with soapy hands and took in his figure leaning against the counter. He was always so laid back and relaxed.

"You need to get over yourself." He shrugged in reply.

"You're quite the cook aren't you? A woman after my own heart, tattoos, good cook, what more?"

"You're never going to find out." I turned back to continue the washing. I heard his laugh from behind, it made my toes curl.

"What did it feel like last night when you left?"

"How did I feel?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"Happiness." His snicker made me turn around to watch him again. He was smirking. God, that damn smirk.

"Do you want to know why I'm asking?" He started to stalk towards me. I couldn't move back. I followed him with my eyes, my heart racing.

"Not really."

"Seeing you in just a towel, knowing I was so close to getting what I wanted yet still so far. Knowing I could have had you, I had your permission, your consent, I could have made you begged until you were on your knees, but I left." Arrogant twat.

"Lucky me." His body was pressed up against mine for the second time that night.

"Do you know what it took to walk away from you?" His breath, so warm against my skin. "A fucking miracle and a raging-"

"I get it." I cut him off, not wanting to listen to him anymore. "I get it, I really do. You wanted to show me how it felt to be left wanting."

"Not quite correct." I looked to him, his blazing eyes. They were captivating. "I wanted to teach you a lesson. Naughty, dirty girls get punished, don't they?"

"Do they?" I quivered. I didn't know why, but I liked his dirty talk.

"One day, I'll show you." And a part of me, the stupid, annoying part of me was excited to try.