Title: Here's Roxy
Featuring: Roxy Phoenix
Date: Featuring An STD
Location: OK, just Tyler Rayne

The hot water trickled down her body in a tranquil flow. Each stream danced rushed along the curves of her body. The steam stole her breath momentarily as she was reduced to short pants for air. It had been a while since she had had a good hot shower. These past few weeks, she’d been running for her life. A fate that had been all too familiar to her. In and out of shoddy hotels, dodging the bill at 5 AM. Petty theft for food, booze, and cigs. Shit, the last time she had stolen a purse, she was seventeen. She thought she had moved past that shit once she had met him. The good life. Nice homes. Fast cars. Money. Luxury. Traveling. Leisure. Good sex. Security. Reliability. Then he had to go and fuck himself up. Fuck everything up. And here she was, cleaning up his mess.

God, she missed the way things used to be… not for the company �" she had grown tired of him years into the relationship, and she had just stayed around for the materialistic shit. Yes, she was that vain. Everything could not have been going any better, until he got tired of the same old shit. He had to go and venture off to bigger things… and drag her with him. Now, she was stuck, and he was nowhere to be found.

It was all over. Things would never be the same. Now he was gone. She was left as his scapegoat. But she would find him, and she would make him pay. He would learn never to fuck with Roxy Phoenix.

Why hadn’t she broken into Ty’s place sooner? As long as she had known of his involvement, she could have saved herself a hell of a lot of time and effort and just come begging… wait, she did not beg. She never begged.

She was sure that he hadn’t had a good fuck in years. How could he? She was the best. He knew that. She probably could have just waltzed in and fucked his brains out, taken his cash while he was “recuperating,” and be on her merry fucking way. In his life for a quickie and back out again… it sounded like a plan, and she’d get satisfied in multiple respects. Of course, she probably knew his combination, so she could steal his money and leave before he even had a chance to stop her. But she felt obligated that after these three years that they hadn’t seen one another to spend some time… “catching up.” But how could she “catch up” with someone that she had so much history?

She raised an eyebrow at the Victoria’s Secret body wash on the shelf in the shower. Maybe he kept it around for one of his cheap pumps who wanted to freshen up before he kicked them out. Needless to say, she was quite grateful �" she did not want to spend the day followed by the scent of Axe.

Once she had poured some soap onto the �" once again questionable �" pink loofah that was dangling off one of the knobs, she ran the loofah all over her body. The suds covered the ink and scars on her body… if only she could scrub them off.

Before she was finished washing off, she felt eyes on her. Ty’s eyes. She knew that feeling too, and it sent shivers up her spine. She swirled around and bit her lip. He didn’t look surprised… or glad to see her. He’d have to get over it. So she broke into his house? Big fucking deal. He could act like such a bitchy chick most times.

It was only a matter of seconds before he would have joined her in the shower and fucked her roughly into the wall… like they had done so many times before. She’d only have to work him up this time to get him out of this… “attitude.”

Soon her hands began to gracefully slither up and down her perky breasts. She stood under the shower head to allow for the water to agitate her nipples. Her slender fingers began to work other areas, and she started to shake in ecstasy. The fingers from one hand nagged sensitive areas as the other penetrated her moist orifice. Her heart began to race as she quickened her speed. Her high-pitched moans began to echo throughout the bathroom.

“Oh, Ty…” she squealed. “Mmm. My pussy is dripping wet. Oh, it’s so tight.”

Usually… this did the trick. But he didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t in the mood for playing games. Ugh. Maybe it was his time of the month.

Since she had been so close to her orgasm, she just finished herself off. She could have gone on for hours with multiple orgasms, but she got the impression that he wasn’t interested… yet. His loss. He would surely change his mind before the day was over.

“Uh, y’wanna get me a towel?” she asked. She was short of breath.

"A towel, Rox? Since when are you so quick to cover the goods? Way I remember, you prefer to walk around with your clothes off."

She nodded. He was right. She had no limits… or shame… or modesty… or humility for that matter, of course.

A flirtatious smile snaked across her lips. She knew how to push Ty’s buttons… and she had done that for the past seven or so years that they had known each other. Her tongue slid out of her mouth and traced the shape of her red lips.

“Is that an invitation? I just didn’t want to track water throughout Rayne Manor,” she said, an emphasis to articulate the mansion’s rite with a sense of pretention. “I felt like I would try to be considerate.”

"Considerate, eh? Didn't realize you knew the meaning of the word. So, uh... what exactly is it you're doing here?"

She sighed and cocked her hip out. While flexing her arm to meet her hip, he could see the definition in her shoulders and arms. She had lost weight since he’d last seen her. She needed a few good meals. Looking stressed as well, she had a few more bumps and bruises on her. They weren’t the kind she’d sustained in the ring. These wounds went deeper.
New ink too. He hadn’t seen the Slavic words on the inside of her wrist or the stars that danced about her ankles. But that tribal Phoenix still climbed up her spine and stretched out along her shoulder blades as did the black Scorpio tattoo on her lower right abdomen that had been put there many years ago to hide that nasty scar that she had been cursed with at sixteen. If it was possible for her to look like hell, it was now. But damn, she still looked great for looking like shit.

“Well, well, Mr. Rayne,” she cocked her hip out, and her hands met her waist. “If I weren’t already naked, I’d say you were undressing me with those eyes of yours.”

"I never had to undress you, Rox. You couldn't wait to tear your clothes off when you were around me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Ty.”

Her patience was wearing thin, and her nipples were starting to perk up from the chill in the room. Tyler’s gaze went to them immediately.

However, his anger of her breaking into his house resurfaced, and the glance averted to her face.

“So, I'll ask again... the fuck are you doing in my house?"

“Mmm, so forward,” she coquettishly giggled. “I always did like that about
you.”

"Yeah, you also liked when I stuck it in your ass."

There wasn’t an answer to that one �" she wouldn’t deny it. He stepped outside the bathroom for a moment, leaving the dripping vixen with fond memories of many wild nights. He returned a few seconds later with a towel and tossed it at her, making sure to stay close to the door.

"If you're here to kill me, kid, I'm really not in the mood. Feel free to dry off, get your shit, and be on your fucking merry."

She rolled her eyes and began to roughly towel-dry her hair. “Well, thanks for the welcoming party.”

"You broke into my house, Rox. The fuck did you expect?"

“What’s with the hostility? You know I like making an entrance.”

"Not that it isn't lovely to see ya, kid.” He surveyed her full body in the nude, “All of you. But... well, when people show up out of the blue like this, it's usually because they need cash. And someone is paying them to try and cut my heart out. Which, let's be fair, isn't exactly above your moral standards."

“Wow, still believe you have a heart?” She scoffed, “Always the optimist, Ty.”

“Money?” He put his hands on his hips. “They have banks for that shit.”

"How cute! You think I was waiting to see you before I took your money?" She put a finger in her mouth. The same finger that only seconds go was inside of her. Her freshly dried breasts met the shirt that clung to his chest, and with each inhale, he took in her soft clean scent.

Her grasp lowered to his groin, and her voice dropped seductively, “Can’t I just drop in and… see an old friend?"

"You're really not getting the ‘me not in a mood to fuck around’ thing, are you?” He rubbed his temples and backed away from her warm touch. “If you just wanted to see me, you could've called. Christ, kid, it's been... what? Four? Five years? Long ass fuckin' time. You broke into my house. You got naked. And you waited for me in some half-assed attempt to throw me off guard. Put me at a disadvantage so you could feel superior and use those wiles of yours to try and get what you want out of me. So let's skip the bullshit and get right to the part where you tell me what the fuck you want."

“I thought it was a rather full-assed attempt, thank you. And like I said, I could take whatever I wanted without waiting for you.” She patted his cheek, “I missed you, Ty. I’ve never been the ‘calling type.’”

“I know you’re stubborn, but you’re not deaf.” He asked, “Do you need a cab?”

Ignoring him, she began to redress. Luckily, she had one last pair of clothes in her bag �" and she had chosen one of her best looking ensembles to entice Tyler into giving her money… and maybe doing some laundry.

Unfortunately, her buzz from the few shots of Raspberry Vodka was definitely starting to fade with the constant bickering. Not that she ever got drunk on it �" it was like water to her people. But shit, she was getting nowhere. Maybe she should have just gone home... yes, home. God, suicide would have been better than that place and those people. Wherever she went, she just had to get the fuck out of here. Christ, she was not going to throw herself at him. She still had her dignity, if nothing else.

The black thong was quickly jerked up her legs, and the lacy black push-up bra soon covered her breasts. It was only a matter of time before her extremely short pleated skirt hugged her hips, and the low cut V-neck shirt enveloped her upper torso.

Tyler was growing frustrated, “Roxy, just give me some fucking answers.”
She leaned against the wall and balanced her leg on the toilet seat, rushing to zip her knee-high boots up. Within seconds, she’d get out of there and never have to see his fucking face again. Why the hell did she bother coming here?

“Roxy-”

“What do you want from me, Ty?” She snapped, “I don’t have an answer for you. Not now.”

And she wouldn’t tell him. She was too proud to admit that she was back on the streets, when he had known all the awful things that she had done to get out of there. And certainly, she couldn’t let Tyler think he was right about everything he had warned her about going back to him.
But Tyler knew that she had a weakness for booze, and there was only a matter of time before she dropped the secrecy. Something was off though. He looked around… she was alone.

“Where’s Jason?”
“Where’s Jason?”

Where the fuck did he get off asking a loaded question like that? He was badgering her from the moment he saw her, and all she wanted was a little hospitality. Sure, she broke into his house �" but he shouldn’t have made it so easy to get into. And yeah, she helped herself too some of his liquor, and his pissy attitude was ruining her buzz… and sure, she put out her cigarettes in his couch �" but someone needed to give him an excuse to replace those hideous 1970’s eternal bachelor bad leather couches. Yeah, and she was watching porn on the television… big fucking deal. Well, that part he probably enjoyed.

He stared at her, more puzzled at her silence rather than initial intense anger. His eyebrow curiously curved downward, in utter surprise that she didn’t produce an automatic response, similar to ‘Oh, he’s out on the Veranda.’ She had to think of something, and fast. There was no way he was going to tell him what happened. She was far too proud to give him any information to him, and even if she had disclosed anything she knew the response, “I told you so.”

She didn’t need any lectures. Lord knows that any of the incoherent and belligerent ones she got from her father were usually followed by a round of abuse �" mental, emotional, physical, and sexual. It was probably the reason she had perfected all efforts to get her way, which she always did… and any protest fueled her Bulgarian temper.

Jason was on the top of her shit list… and if Tyler Rayne kept fishing for information, he’d soon make the list as well. However, her silence served as more than enough answer. Why couldn’t she just come up with a lie �" something?

He chuckled, reading her expression that she didn’t have an answer or a lie to feed him. Ty sighed with a priggish smile, “This the part where I tell you I told you so?”

Fucking prick.

“Fuck you, Tyler.”

Yes, the full name. No more teasing. No more games. She was fucking done. He threatened to shoot her �" he had some fucking nerve, and now he wanted to test the boundaries further. She thought he had learned to regret that. Obviously, their time together hadn’t taught him enough, other than what buttons to push to drive her wild… with passion and fury.

“How much are you in for?”

Her finger swiftly met her mouth. A habit that she often tried to unsuccessfully break, but with her nerves pressed, she reverted back to the twitch. Soon after she became aware of her actions, she retracted her finger from her mouth. Given her stress, she was surprised she had managed to keep them as long as they were.

She didn’t even look at him. He’d only have some nasty smug look on his face, and she would never give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg. She wasn’t a fucking charity case.

He rubbed his chin and surveyed her exposed skin, “Judging by the bruises and the scars, I’d say you’ve been in some trouble.”

There was no denying that.

“The fact that he’s not here with you means that the little cock sucker bailed and left your ass hanging in the wind. Whatever he stole, or owes, is on your head now…” He gestured to the scar under her left breast.

“Which would explain the rib injury from… what’s that? A month ago? Hm, a pipe or a baseball bat?”

A tire iron, it was… actually. And, boy, she was lucky to escape with a few bruised ribs. He was on a roll, and no one could ever stop Tyler Rayne when he knew he was right. That son of a bitch could prattle, and she had to stop him. That gun. That would shut him up.

The buzz was entirely gone. A headache began to surface, and the more he went on, she wanted to just either shoot him or herself.

No, she wouldn’t kill him. She’d just shoot him in the foot. Teach him a lesson. That way, he’d be the one bitching… well, he was still bitching now. But that whining would be a little more tolerable.

“You’re in deep, and you’d figured you’d come here and take some cash. Now, either you got cold feet or you wanted one last fuck before you ran off with my money. Can’t say I give a shit either way.”

When was he going to stop? She got the point. It was a stupid decision to come here, and she had embarrassed herself. She would pilfer the remainder of the bottle of the Raspberry Vodka and just drown her sorrows while she hitchhiked to the nearest motel. That was only… gee, an hour or two away. Tyler and his fucking isolation complex.

“You’re not getting a hand out. Not from me.”

She wasn’t asking for fucking charity. Her plan was to just waltz in, take the money, and head out. And yeah, she waited to try and fuck him… just for fun, but hell, if she would have known she was going to get this much fucking nonsense over it, she would have just climbed back out the window minutes after she had broken in �" several thousands richer.

“Oh, and I’m not gonna fuck you, either.”

He had to add that last zing, as though he was making sure to verbally note his rejection of her implied proposal. She wasn’t on her knees begging him to screw her like some desperate woman. He could be such an asshole.

“You wanna be a pissy little bitch? Leave. You want some help… well, I might have an idea.”

She could only wait to hear this one. Knowing his ideas, she’d be back on the pole dancing her way to earning money again. Or he’d make a proposal for her to start turning tricks. Boy, he was wearing on her patience. She was going to punch him in the fucking nuts at this rate.

“I’m fucking starving, though,” He quickly changed the topic of conversation. “So, you can either come join for me dinner, and we’ll discuss things… Or you can get the fuck out.”

Her fists were shaking with rage. He snatched the gun from the counter and walked out of the bathroom. She didn’t even watch him head out. She couldn’t. She was so fucking steamed. She couldn’t get to the gun, because he would no doubt overpower her. Sure, when she was in full health, she could have been able to give him a fairly decent match. Since she’d been It was a waste of time trying to figure out some way to get back at him with his cocky attitude. But she couldn’t let him walk off having the last word.

He paused about five paces out. He was going to say something… he always had to say something. Hadn’t he done enough?

“Oh, and Rox…”

She looked up. He stared her straight in the eye, his face returning to the stone dead emotionless slate from before. He matched the intensity of her glare, raised the Desert Eagle and discharged a single round into the wall of the shower. The blast rang like a church bell in her ears. She winced.

Fuck! If she hadn’t fired several rounds of her own in her lifetime, she would have been a little less prepared. Thankfully, she had plugged her ears at the last second. Bastard.

“You ever break into my house again, I will shoot you.”

Roxy Phoenix growled and slammed the door to the bathroom.

With an inappropriate itch of her foot, her eyes fell on her ankles… surely one tattoo that he didn’t miss right at the base of the trail of stars on her right ankle and leading to the pivot of her foot �" her own gun. A new present that she had given herself when she pawned her engagement ring. And damn, it was a good one.

The Smith and Wesson .500 caliber revolver was just inches away from falling out of her bag, seductively beckoning her to use it… sometimes being hot and bothered threw all common sense to the wind.

It was time to whip out the Bone Collector.

If push came to shove, they’d probably kill each other. It’d be a battle who’d get to the other first. And she would be damned if she let him beat her to it.

He couldn’t have been more than a few feet down the hall when she fired two .5 inch rounds in the bathroom door. It didn’t hit him �" she was sure of that. But she let Tyler Rayne know that Roxy Phoenix always had the last word.

“Hey asshole,” She could see Tyler through the holes in the door, standing cautiously next to his butler. She snarled with a victorious grin,
“You’re paying for dinner.”
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