Erotic Short Stories 2

by Lynn Hagen

  Fuck Mitch and Derek.

  Just because my father had never shown me love and attention, that didn’t mean I was looking for it with the guys I screwed around with. They had no idea what they were talking about. I just like older men because they were more mature.

  End of story.

  The men who frequented Purple Sunrise might be straight, but I was bored, horny, and the Blue Smurf was still doing all the thinking.

  We stepped inside to low lighting. The music overhead sounded like the blues. Being born and raised in New Orleans, I was already digging it.

  I recognized the artist. Etta James. She had been my mother’s favorite, and the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” took me back to my childhood of playing out by the bayou as my mother cooked and my father sat on his rocker, our dog, Bo, lying on the porch next to him.

  I released Mitch’s hand and stepped farther inside the lounge. There was a glass-encased waterfall on the wall to my right, lit up by purple lighting. To my left was the most beautiful and masculine bar I’d ever seen. It was made of dark wood and the wallpaper was of a warrior sitting atop his horse. The horse’s front legs were in the air, and the warrior’s sword was raised.

  My wallet cried at the idea of buying a drink. I realized this was a bad idea when some guy approached us, looking at Mitch and me like we were street trash.

  He looked down his nose at us. “Can I help you?”

  “You the doorman?” I asked, ready to start my fun.

  The scathing looked he gave me said he wasn’t. He must’ve been one of the regulars who was determined to keep street rats from entering the fine establishment.

  The guy could kiss my ass.

  Mitch’s cheeks were a bright pink as he smiled at the stranger. He leaned his arm on the stand by the door and nearly fell over. “I’ll suck your dick for a drink.”

  I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. This place was too stuffy and needed to liven up. These men had probably never cut loose in their boring lives.

  And the look on the stranger’s face was comical. His lips were pinched, and his eyes were narrowed. He was also red in the face.

  “I think you mistook this establishment for Cherry Pit.” He’d said the club name with disdain.

  I’d opened my mouth to give him a sassy reply when Mitch lost his hold on the stand and tumbled forward, landing on the stuck-up bastard’s chest.

  Mitch burped and snickered then looked up at the guy. “I’m still offering that blowjob. I’m mighty thirsty.”

  I pulled Mitch off the snob. “He’s probably never gotten his knob polished before. He doesn’t even know what a blowjob is.”

  For just a brief second, Snob’s eyes turned smoldering before the look evaporated, replaced by annoyance.

  Straight men had no sense of humor.

  My eyes widened when Mitch fumbled with his zipper. “Hang on,” he said. “Let me show you what I have to work with.”

  I smacked Mitch’s hand. “Maybe some other time.”

  It was one thing to crash a stuffy lounge, another to expose one’s self. I didn’t want the cops to get involved. I wasn’t looking for that good of a time.

  Mitch grinned up at Snob again. “Are you sure? I suck a mean dick.”

  I turned, ready to pull Mitch’s drunken ass out of there, when I ran into a hard wall of flesh. I stumbled backward, my Blue Smurf still miraculously in my hand.

  Unfortunately, I spilled some of it on the stranger’s shirtfront. “Oh crap. I’m so sorry!”

  I expected the guy to shout at me, call me names, or threaten to call the cops. Instead, he smiled and said, “The blue works much better than the white.”

  Was he for real? I looked from the stain that would never come out to his handsome, god-like face. His looks did more for me than any of the jocks at Cherry Pit.

  “Is there a problem, Richard?” the guy asked Snob.

  “A problem?” Snob looked wide-eyed at the stranger. “Clearly these men shouldn’t be here.”

  “Ah, come on.” Mitch wouldn’t stop grinning at the prick. “I offered to suck your dick. I think that makes us friends.”

  Handsome coughed, but I could tell he was hiding a smile. He cleared his throat and glanced at me.

  I held up my hands. “Don’t even look at me. I didn’t offer jack shit. I just came in here for a drink, but Snob is blocking us.”

  “Snob?” The stranger’s smile grew.

  “I think he’s referring to me,” Richard said. He gripped Mitch’s wandering hands and gently set my friend aside.

  “This isn’t a private club,” Handsome said. “They’re more than welcome to have a seat at the bar.”

  I smirked at Snob. Yeah, I knew his name was Richard, but he was still an uptight asshole.

  Handsome took my hand and kissed my knuckles, giving me a pirate’s roughish smile. “Let me buy you and your friend a drink.”

  Mitch turned, bleary-eyed, his cheeks still red, and smiled. “Do I have to suck your dick?”

  I wanted to bitch slap Mitch. This god-like creature was mine. If there would be any dick-sucking, I would be doing it. “Find your own piece of meat.”

  “I did.” Mitch snuggled up to Snob before Richard once again set him aside.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Edward.” He took my hand and led me to three unoccupied stools. When I looked behind me, I saw Mitch storming from the lounge. I wanted to go after him. I started to get up, but Edward put a hand on my arm.

  “Richard will call him a cab. He won’t allow your friend to walk home in the condition he’s in.” Edward nodded at my glass. “What do you have there?”

  “This.” I raised my glass and snickered. “Blue Smurf. You should try it.”

  I didn’t think he would. It was a concoction of…I had no idea. But Edward asked, “May I?”

  With a shrug, I handed it over. I watched as his lips touched my straw. Fuck, why did that make me hot all over? Probably because I imagined the straw was my dick.

  His lips wrapped around the plastic in such a sensual way that I sighed and leaned my jaw on my hand, watching with the utmost focus and dirty thoughts.

  He set the glass down. I was bereft of the disconnection. Edward had the nicest lips I’d ever seen.

  “That packs a powerful punch. It’s really sweet, too.”

  I hadn’t even noticed that. This was my second Blue Smurf, and my taste buds weren’t very reliable at this point. In fact, they were pretty numb.

  Edward wiped at his mouth. “It has a ton of vodka in there, too.” He eyed me with baby-blue bedroom eyes. “I’m surprised that drink didn’t knock you on your ass.”

  I hadn’t known that, either. No wonder it had cost ten bucks. I just thought because it was in a hurricane drinking glass that the glass had made it a fancy drink. The little pink umbrella was still stuck in it.

  “I’m not exactly seeing straight.” I giggled. What the fuck? I never giggled. “But then again, there’s nothing straight about me.”

  Edward slid a business card toward me. “When you sober up, give me a call.”

  * * * *

  I woke to a god-awful hangover. Never again would I drink something blue with an umbrella in it. I wouldn’t be surprised if I pissed blue pee. The thought of going back to sleep sounded nice, but my phone erupted into a loud pop song.

  Where was the damn thing? I would murder my device if I could just remember where I’d put it. Then again, I really didn’t remember much of last night. Had Mitch really offered to suck a straight man’s dick?

  Then a flash of blue eyes raced through my mind. I’d been a lot more wasted than I thought. But that had been my goal last night. To go out and have a good time. But I was so over the headache and upset stomach.

  Then I tried to sit up. That was a big mistake. With a hand slapped over my mouth, I rushed to the bathroom and got rid of the Blue Smurf. It didn’t smell so pleasant the second time around.

  I was dying. Th
at was the only explanation for how I felt. I was hugging the cold floor and wishing for a very quick death because, who the hell could survive feeling this way?

  My phone began to ring again. Fuck that phone. Whoever it was would just have to wait until the world stopped spinning and my gut stopped clenching.

  I must’ve fallen asleep, because, when I opened my eyes, the shadows in the bathroom were farther away from me. I also felt much better, other than having a killer headache.

  Two pain relief tablets later and I still hadn’t found my phone. Too bad I couldn’t clap my hands and have it chirp for me. You know, like that old commercial for the clapper?

  Thankfully it rang again. I dug it out from under a pile of dirty laundry. How it had gotten there was anyone’s guess. “Sonny,” I said when I answered.

  “Dude, what was in that fucking drink last night?” Mitch asked with a deep groan. “I don’t even remember how I got home.”

  Neither did I. The last thing I recalled was talking to some hot piece of man candy at some lounge. “Did we seriously go into Purple Sunrise?”

  I was hoping that was a bad nightmare. Why on earth would I have gone into a place with nothing but straight men?

  “How the hell should I know?” Mitch asked. “The last thing I remember is offering to suck some college dude’s dick.”

  I looked around for the clothes I’d worn last night. Maybe there was some kind of clue in one of the pockets. I’d wanted to have a good time but not forget what the hell I’d done.

  “Are you heading over to Michael’s house later? I hear he’s having a barbeque, and nothing beats free food,” Mitch said.

  “Did you forget that Michael and I hate each other?” I pulled out a business card from the back pocket of my jeans. I’d left my house last night with fifty bucks, my wallet, and my phone. I had my phone, the money was gone, and where in the fuck was my wallet?

  I drove a senior transportation bus for a living. I needed my driver’s license. But the longer I searched, the more I realized it wasn’t in my apartment.

  And Mitch was still on the phone, as if he had nothing better to do then let dead air space linger between us.

  I went back into my bedroom and grabbed the business card off my dresser. “I’ll call you back.”

  “I’ll bring you a plate of food from the barbecue.” It sounded as though Mitch was just getting out of bed if the rustle of sheets was anything to go by. “You know he makes the best fucking ribs.”

  “Just don’t tell Mike it’s for me or he might poison it.” I hung up.

  There was just a name and a phone number on the card. Edward Grayson.

  Either I could stare at the number all day or call it. Taking in a deep breath, I dialed the number. I prayed Edward, whoever he was, knew where I’d left my wallet.

  Although I lived on a budget, I had two credit cards in there, and my credit limit was a nice amount. My balance was at zero, and I wanted to keep it that way. If this guy had no clue where I’d left it, I’d have to cancel my cards, apply for a new social security card—and my mom would kill me because she was always telling me not to carry it with me—and get a new driver’s license.

  If someone had lifted it off me, they could keep the condom tucked inside, but I wanted the rest of my shit back.

  “Edward Grayson.”

  My heart stopped then restarted at the sound of the deep and sultry voice on the other end. I wanted to put a face to that jack-off worthy voice, but for the life of me, all I could remember were blue eyes.

  “Um, hi,” I said as if I was some dumbass virgin trying to flirt with a hot guy. “I don’t know how I got your business card, but my name is Sonny—”

  “Sonny bunny.” The man’s laugh was rich and made goose bumps rush over my skin. “Yes, I know who you are. How could I forget such an enchanting night?”

  It must not have been that great since I didn’t recall what I’d done or who the fuck Edward was. “Okay, I just wanted to know if you’d seen my wallet. I lost it, and I need it for work.”

  “You left it in my car,” Edward said. “You were gone before I realized you’d left it.”

  His car? I rubbed my forehead, once again cursing that blue drink. “Well, thank you so much for giving me a ride home and for finding my wallet. Can we meet up so I can get it from you?”

  And so I can see your face and hopefully jog my memory.

  “I assume this is your phone number so I’ll text you my address. I’ll be there around six.”

  I wanted to say more, but nothing came to mind. What did you say to a stranger you didn’t remember but still wanted him to talk to because his voice would make a mint on some sex phone line?

  “Then I’ll see you at six.” I hung up and set the card on my dresser. I was glad I didn’t have to work today. I’d just have to Uber wherever the guy lived since I wasn’t driving without my license.

  I could be in and out and home by seven to catch my show. I just hoped the guy didn’t want a reward, because I had no cash on me and wasn’t stopping at an ATM.

  With my fingers crossed, I showered and spent the rest of my day being a lazy fuck and waiting for Mitch to bring me that plate of food.

  * * * *

  I frowned as I looked at the address in my phone then up at the tall building.

  “Is everything okay?” the Uber driver asked. “Is there where you need to get out?”

  The address on the front door matched the one in my phone. This wasn’t a mistake. I was right where I was supposed to be but felt if I stepped out the car I would be arrested for not being rich enough to breathe the same air as everyone in Forest Hill.

  “I think so.”

  I could tell the guy wanted me to get the fuck out, so I did. Once I closed the back door, the Uber driver pulled away like he drove for NASCAR.

  Maybe he had warrants and didn’t want to get pulled over by the cops around this fancy-schmancy neighborhood. There was no doubt in my mind that the police patrolled around here every few seconds.

  I’d never driven through the ritzy neighborhood and hadn’t stopped looking at the houses on my way here. I felt like I was on some Hollywood tour, ogling and envying every single home I’d seen.

  But this building? Damn. I entered into a lobby that looked more like a five-star hotel. The floors were made of marble, the walls trimmed with gold. And there was actual pillars spaced out on the right and left.

  Up ahead was a guy in a uniform sitting behind a desk looking bored out of his mind. I rested my arm on the upper portion and smiled at him. “Hey, working hard or hardly working?”

  The guy looked at me as if I were daft. “Can I help you?”

  Okay, so he didn’t have a sense of humor. “I’m here to see Edward Grayson.”

  The bored desk jerk tapped on his keyboard then shook his head. “I don’t see any appointments for Mr. Grayson. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  Talk about a quick dismissal. I had an urge to flip the guy off. “Nope, I’ll just call him.”

  The guy snorted as he looked me up and down. “Yeah, I’m sure you have his phone number.” He stood. “Look, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave before I have to call the cops.”

  I’d never wanted to smack someone so badly in my life. I ignored him as I dialed Edward. All I wanted was my wallet, not to get hassled because my bank account wasn’t fat enough to stand there.

  “I just got out of the shower,” Edward said when he answered, and once again, I felt like swooning at his voice. But Desk Jerk was giving me the evil eye, his cell phone at the ready, like he had the cops on standby.

  He probably did.

  “I’d come up, but the guy manning the desk won’t give me a hall pass. He doesn’t seem to play well with others.”

  “Hand Carl the phone.”

  “It’s for you,” I said.

  Carl snorted again. “Right, like you know Mr. Grayson.”

  But Carl’s eyes weren’t filled with as much conf
idence as they’d been before.

  “He doesn’t believe I’m on the phone with you,” I said. “Just how big of a bigwig are you?”

  “Hang on,” Edward said.

  I strummed my fingers as the desk phone rang. Carl looked from me to the ringing phone.

  “You better get that.” I smirked.

  “Grayson Manner,” Carl said when he answered.

  My jaw nearly dropped. No. It couldn’t be Edward’s building, could it?

  “Yes, sir. I’m truly sorry for the mix-up, sir. It won’t happen again.” Carl looked as if he was about to pass out. “I’ll put him on the elevator right away.”

  Carl hung up with a shaky hand.

  I wasn’t a complete ass. I felt sorry for the guy. He’d just been doing his job.

  “Right this way, sir.” Carl rounded the desk, refusing to look my way.

  When we reached the elevators, he pressed the Up button.

  “We all have shitty days,” I said. “No hard feelings. You keep doing what you’re supposed to do.”

  Carl gave me an appreciative smile, even if he still looked as though he’d faint. The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped inside. “Which floor?”

  “Penthouse,” Carl said as he stepped onto the elevator with me and used a key before he hit the top button. He got off and gave me a quick nod.

  “You have a great rest of your evening,” I said as the door slid closed. I was just here to retrieve my wallet. Carl had been just doing his job. No harm, no foul.

  It wasn’t as though I actually belonged here. Hell, Carl probably made more sitting behind that desk than I made driving my senior mobile.

  The door slid open, and my jaw dropped. The elevator had let me off right into Edward’s home. Not in a hallway but right into his living room. I stepped out and looked around.

  Talk about dream living. What exactly did Edward do in order to afford not only this luxurious penthouse but to own the entire building?

  A man came from a hallway to my right. He was scrubbing his hair with one fluffy towel while another was wrapped around his waist.

  My towels were thin and threadbare. I wanted to snatch the towel away from him and rub my face against it.