Auto

2

Frankie woke up with a migraine and an odd taste in her mouth. Clutching her head with a tortured groan, she got up, trying to reconcile herself to what happened last night.

She could barely remember. Closing her eyes, she tried to get out of bed, but when she turned she whimpered and winced.

Fuck, it felt she had gotten ripped open six different ways.

It hurt to move. At all, There was some shuffling beside making her frown for the umpteenth time today.

"You leaving, Babydoll?"

Her migraine disappeared for a moment. Slowly she turned toward the deep, raspy voice. There in her bed was a tattooed man, a white tattooed man, with messy black hair, and a bare chest.

What was he doing in her—

She looked down. These weren't her sheets. Damn it.

"You look shocked, Babydoll," His amusement pissed her off.

Auto slid an arm behind his head, grinning up at her.

"You never had a one-night-stand before?"

Frankie couldn't even. She couldn't explain that she never had any-night-stand before him, she could barely speak.

"Cat got your tongue?"

Auto smirked. She was so sexy in the mornings. He didn't know why he was talking to her.

Rule number two don't do anything that suggests commitment, especially spending the night and morning conversations.

She should've been gone, but the cute perplexed look on her face kept him interested.

Her bare breasts were only partly covered by the comforter, marks all over her smooth brown skin.

Auto grinned with pride as he inspected the damage. He throat was covered in jockeys, so was her chest. Her mouth was red and swollen from his ardent kisses.

He knew that beneath that sheet was even more sensually defiled flesh, and before she left, he intended to defile her more.

"What's up, Frankie?" He prompted when she'd been silent for a few minutes. She didn't look at him, didn't respond making him bristle.

Sitting up, he pressed a kiss to her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Pulling her back against him, he rested a kiss on her shoulder.

"You good, Babydoll?"

Frankie raged on the inside. No. No, she was not good. She was not good she was not good at all. She went the club to drown her sorrows, and lament the boorishness of men.

She was angry that it was a requirement to have s*x to be in a relationship.

Then she went and had s*x! With a stranger no less!

She wasn't that kinda girl. To each her own, and she didn't judge, but she didn't like the idea of offering herself to every sexy guy that floated along.

She wanted her body to mean something. It had value, and she didn't want to change that.

But it was too late, by the feel of it.

"Listen Babydoll, it's getting late, and I gotta work. So you need a ride home?"

Robotically she nodded.

Auto smiled, trying not to be upset by her lack of eye contact and verbal response.

"Alright, lemme throw something on and I'll take you home."

★

Nearly an hour later Frankie sat in the passenger seat of Auto's Mustang in nothing but his shirt.

Auto watched her get out of the car, her hands wrapped around her little body.

"Thanks for the ride," she said quietly.

Auto grinned. "Likewise."

Then he took off, making her feel like more of a prostitute than she did before.

The air was stifling as went inside her tiny apartment. She was disappointed. Musing over her indiscretion, she filled the tub with warm water and bath salts sinking in with a satisfied ah.

Her muscles felt like string cheese.

Tonya had called, asked if she was alright. Depends she'd said.

Depends.

★

Four months later...

Holy s**t on a cracker. What the flying monkey fig happened?! Why the f**k—

She glanced at the test again with a cringe.

Who the f**k—

Frankie read it one more time.

How the f**k—

She hated kids. She never wanted them.

Stupid tattooed sexy man with his stupid sexy face and stupid sexy voice, she hoped he died... In approximately eighteen years, anyway.

She didn't even know his name, but she doubted he'd be jumping for f*****g joy.

Oh hey, random stranger! Remember that night we f****d? Well, you won't forget it again!

What was she gonna do? Certainly not go to her father that's for damn sure. Frankie didn't need him to express his disappointment again.

If you were a boy, you wouldn't be pregnant.

At least he knows science, she mused.

It was only fair to tell him. Once she did that, it was out of her hands and into his.

She would be responsible, let him know. Whether he would accept it or reject it, didn't matter. So long as she wasn't at fault.

★

Auto rammed into the brunette with force, ignoring her squeals.

He kept f*****g her until he came, filling the condom.

He pulled out of her, discarding the used condom in the trash in the bathroom.

Turkey basters, full condoms, and crazy women didn't go together he'd learned.

"Why won't you c*m in me?" The woman whined.

Auto regarded her with disinterest.

"Because I don't like you, and I damn sure don't trust you." He answered flatly. His tone wasn't malicious but matter-of-factness with which he said it made her flinch.

"You have ten minutes to leave."

Stepping into his pants and shrugging on his shirt, he left the hotel room, headed home.

Tommy was supposed to have dropped his shipment off two hours ago, and yet, he received no calls.

He was ducking him the stupid son of a b***h.

Don't cross me, so simple. Now he had to get his legs broken.

Snorting as he went into his house, he called his friend Grim.

"Hey, motherfucker."

Auto rolled his eyes. "Shut the f**k up, Grim. Tommy."

"That little cocksucker actually took off with the money?"

"And the shipment," Auto confirmed. "This I got a family bullshit won't carry him for much longer. I'm gonna break that fuckers neck family or not."

There was a knock at his door.

Shirtless Auto padded out to loft, still on the phone.

"Where did you get with the Kings?"

Grim snorted, his derision carrying through the line.

"They want thirty."

Auto picked up his gun from the kitchen ledge, going to open the door.

"You're f*****g kidding me, right?"

"I wish."

Opening the door he prepared a response, but it got lost in his lips.

"Babydoll?"

Grim frowned. "When the f**k did we start talking about dolls, Motherfucker?"

"What are you doing here?" He was confused, but not unhappy.

Her figure-hugging jeans, tight black shirt, and jean jacket made him miss her body.

"Dude, I've been here this whole time. We've been having a conversation."

Auto didn't respond to Grim, hardly even hearing him.

"I came to give you some good news."

Auto schooled his features.

"What good news?"

"What?"

"You're gonna be a Father." She stated blandly, not feeling excited whatsoever.

"What?!"

"I just said that you dumb fucker!"

"What the f**k do you mean?"

"The f**k you mean the f**k I mean? I just said what b***h, what's your problem? You sampling product, or something?"

Grim was pissed, confused and worried about the fucker. Auto had never been the sanest of the bunch. In fact, him and Auto were the worst.

"Babydoll what the f**k are you talking about?"

Grim gave up. "I'm not a babydoll. Is there someone else with you? Cause if you on that gay s**t we—"

"It's simple," Frankie spat sarcastically. "You f****d me, and got me pregnant congratulations."

Auto swallowed hard. "I always use protection."

"Aite Motherfucker you taking this to far. I love you like a brother but you ain't f*****g me, and if you try—"

"Not this time."

Auto was speechless. It didn't last long.

"How do you know it's mine?"

Grim didn't know what to make of they statement. "Look, I'm gonna come over. But I'm warning you b***h, you try some gay s**t and I'm shootin' yo ass."

Frankie didn't even scoff. Honestly, it was a pretty valid question. "You were my first and only."

Auto dropped his phone.

"I'm sorry what?"

"I was a virgin."