Self-confidence like that was f**king hot.
It was too bad she wasn't his type, he thought as he walked past her, only pausing long enough to grab the bag out of her hand and give her luscious little ass a swat for good measure, grinning when he heard that little growl of hers that he liked so damn much.
It really was too bad that she wasn't his type.
Chapter 12
"I just took you out twenty minutes ago," Zoe complained even as she reached for the new black leash with the small baby blue teddy bear pattern that she'd bought during her second trip to the pet store and headed for the front door.
Sure she could have used the black leather leash that Trevor bought, but she liked this one. It was manly no matter what he said. The teddy bears were blue not pink, she'd pointed out when he spotted it during their last walk. That was immediately followed by a one minute glare that she found kind of cute.
She wasn't sure if he'd been pissed about the so-called "girly leash" or the fun she'd had at his expense at the pet store, but it hadn't mattered because both put a smile on her face. Several times today she found herself laughing at the memory of the little scene from the pet store. She really wasn't sure what she found more entertaining, the disappointed expression on the woman's face who thought just because Zoe looked a certain way that she was a pushover or the horrified almost comical expression on Trevor's face when her words hit home.
He really was an entertaining guy. Haley was right. Screwing over a man just for the hell of it was a lot of fun. It was also nice having someone in her life that she could joke with and just be herself. Over the past three years she'd learned to keep her mouth shut and accept all the crap life handed her as she tried to make something out of her life.
She'd never been a pushover a single day in her life, her big mouth guaranteed that, but working in that office had slowly sucked the life out of her, leaving her gritting her teeth and accepting whatever bullshit her bosses dealt her all while fighting the urge to open her mouth and land her ass in trouble. Turning into a meek little worker had been one of the hardest things for her to do, especially when she was used to speaking up for herself.
Growing up the way she had there hadn't been much of a choice in the matter since there was no one else to speak for her. Even though she'd had about a half dozen different social workers from the age of two until fifteen when she finally ran away, none of them cared about what happened to her. To them she was just a case they'd gotten stuck with and she only saw them about once a year when they had their mandatory meeting to make sure she was actually alive.
Her foster parents, all one hundred and fifty-three of them, had been a different story completely. Some had been nice, some not so nice and some had acted like she wasn't there, but in each and every home she'd been a paycheck and a charity case, nothing more. Not in one single home had she been treated or expected to act like one of the family.
There were always separate rules for her and the other foster kids in each home and different expectations. She was expected to do as she was told and keep her mouth shut when something happened that she didn't like. They learned quickly that they couldn't push her around just because no one cared about her.
She knew other kids kept their mouths shut, too afraid to upset their foster parents and be shipped off to a new home, but that wasn't her. The inconvenience of packing up her small duffle bag and going to a new home, dealing with new foster parents, and learning new rules hadn't been enough for her to keep her mouth shut. If they treated her like crap she spoke up, plain and simple. She never acted like a spoiled little brat who liked to bitch and whine about everything, but when she had foster parents who wouldn't feed her unless she worked for it or liked to hit her or some of the smaller kids, she spoke up, loudly.
Instead of coming to her aide and reassuring her that it would never happen again a few of her social workers actually told her to learn to shut her mouth, telling her it wasn't so bad and that if she wanted a roof over her head and food in her stomach that she needed to learn keep her mouth closed. Sometimes she followed that little tidbit of crappy advice and kept her mouth shut. She might have been a kid, but she hadn't been stupid. She knew no one was ever going to rescue her and love her and that she was damn lucky not to have to live on the street, but sometimes the way her foster parents treated her was too much and she couldn't keep her mouth shut no matter how much she wanted to.
It wasn't until she was fifteen and found herself living in an abandoned car that she realized that sometimes it was better to keep her big mouth shut, especially if she was going to make a life for herself. Although she did her best to curb her big mouth sometimes it still got her in trouble and she found herself in a sticky situation a time or two.
When she landed an entry level job with The N.W. Corporation a few years ago she'd forced herself to keep her mouth shut, knowing she didn't want to mess up the opportunity to make something out of her life. As difficult as it had been she learned to keep her mouth shut, mostly, until she barely recognized the person she'd become where being screwed over didn't bother her because she truly believed she'd move up in the company and all the nonsense they put her through would be worth it.
Had she really been that delusional?
Apparently she had, because she allowed them to push her around until she simply hadn't cared anymore. Even though it had only been a few months since she worked in that hell hole she still couldn't believe she let them treat her that way or worse that she let the job become her life. She'd lost touch with the few friends she had and stopped dating, not that she'd done much of that in the past, but at least a decent amount of sex might have made her life more tolerable.
She really missed sex, she thought with a sigh.
But if all went well tonight she wouldn't be missing it for much longer. Not that she'd ever been a tramp. She hadn't. She just had a healthy appetite for sex for a twenty-nine year old woman who hadn't had sex in five years.
She also missed the intimacy of being close to another human being. She missed lazy Sundays in bed, fighting over the remote, snuggling to stay warm and the way she felt when a man made love to her, not alone.
"No f**king way," Trevor said as he stepped out of his apartment and caught sight of the leash.
"This is just getting sad," she said, sighing. "It's just a leash, a cute leash, but a leash all the same."
"If it's just a leash then why aren't you using the black one?" Trevor demanded, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to glare at the offending leash.
"Because it's cute. Did I not just cover that?" she asked, knowing she was taunting him and god help her she loved it.
"Cute?" he asked, sounding dumbfounded.
"Uh huh," she agreed absently, walking, more like being dragged to the front door by Toby. As she opened the door she decided to taunt him just a little more. Just as she stepped through the door she added, "Cute just like my Red Sox tee shirt," she said, squealing, whether it was from him lunging for her or Toby taking off at a full run and dragging her she wasn't sure. The only thing she knew was she couldn't stop laughing as Trevor's hand missed her bottom by a mile and he promised she wouldn't be able to sit for a week after he got his hands on her.