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Spark

Page 12

by Erin Noelle


  Grabbing a fresh glass, I fill it with ice and pour the two clear liquids in simultaneously, then top it off with a lime wedge and walk it over to her. “Anything for you, gorgeous.” I grin as I set the drink down in front of her.

  She reaches her hand out to pick up the glass, purposely making contact with mine as her eyes twinkle with pure, unadulterated lust. “Anything?” she coos. “Cause I can think of a few—”

  “Yo, Crew, need your help over here, man, and Tasha, go save Carmen from table twenty-one! They’ve taken body shots to a whole ‘nother level!” Rory shouts out from the other end of the bar, abruptly cutting her off.

  Grateful for the interruption, I blow out a sigh of relief and spin around on my heel to rejoin him in front of the never-ending crowd waiting to get a drink. Then, I spend the rest of the night focused on the customers, setting my charm on overdrive as we rack up the tips, and while doing my best to avoid Tasha.

  Nearly an hour after last call, the final drunken customers stumble out the door and Rory quickly rushes over to lock it behind them. Thank God. I'm fucking exhausted.

  Slumping against the sticky counter, I grab the bottle of water I've been nursing all night and guzzle down the rest of it. I'd been moving at ninety miles an hour for the last seven hours and all I can think about is a hot shower and crawling into bed with Hudson.

  "Tonight was only a warm-up, man," Rory chuckles as he rounds back behind the bar, snatching a beer from the cooler for himself. "Just wait until tomorrow. Thanksgiving is our busiest night every year. This place will be wall-to-wall bodies, all of the college kids here on holiday break, and others who are tired of being cooped up with their families all day. It's gonna be insane money."

  "I'm always down for ‘insane money’," I reply as I toss the empty container in the trash, "but for now, let's get this place cleaned up. I'm ready to crash."

  Picking up the sanitizing spray and rag, my eyes quickly scan the room, noting several of the waitresses wiping down the tables, while others are busy counting their tips for the night. I don't see Tasha around anywhere, and I silently hope she's already left, but just as I begin to clean off the tap nozzles, a familiar rack of tits framed by bright red hair moves directly into my line of sight across the bar top.

  "My cousin is having a little get together at our place tonight. Most of the girls are coming if you want to join us." She pushes her full double-Ds out farther, as if that's necessary, and gives me her best fuck-me eyes while reaching out and trailing a fingernail down my chest.

  I force a smile, not wanting to outright reject her, especially not with an audience. "Maybe some other time, T. I've gotta get home; my younger brother is there alone, and uh, I don't want him to worry." I stop myself before saying my girlfriend is waiting on me, because for one, I'm not really sure what Hudson and I are exactly, and two, Tasha strikes me as the type of girl who likes a good challenge, and if she knows I'm taken, it'll make me even more appealing.

  The remark about my brother seems to appease her, at least for now, as she nods and grins wickedly. "Hot as fuck and a sweet family guy. I like you, Crew Elliott."

  Uncertain of how I'm supposed to respond to that comment, I stare at her, probably looking pretty fucking stupid until our manager, Brody, saves my ass. "Tasha, leave the poor kid alone, and the rest of you, come cash out. I'm ready to get out of here."

  "We'll talk later." She blows me a kiss over her shoulder as she sashays toward the office.

  Thankfully, the few girls who are still remaining all follow her into the hallway, leaving Rory and me alone to finish our closing duties, and before he even opens his mouth, I feel the lecture coming.

  During my very first shift, he warned me not to shit where I eat. "Flirt, but don't fuck,” he’d said. “Most of the waitresses will try to hook up with you, thinking that fucking you really makes them your favorite, like they've all got some magical fucking cunt that's gonna bring you to your knees, but there's too much premium pussy walking this town, to get involved with someone you gotta see every day."

  At first, I didn't think it'd be too hard to fend them off; I’m capable of saying no nicely, but tonight was my first shift working with Tasha, and I realize it's going to be a little harder than I originally thought. I think I’m going to nickname her Tenacious Tasha.

  "She's relentless, dude," he says lowly from behind me, "like a fucking Venus fly trap. She struts around shoving those irresistible tits in your face, flipping that long red hair that makes you wonder if she's a true ginger or not—and she most definitely is—only to suck you in, take what she wants, and spit you out." He does nothing to disguise the venomous tone in his voice, which I have to admit surprises me a little after I saw how friendly he seemed with her earlier.

  "You sound like you're talking from experience," I note as I continue to organize the bottles of well liquor.

  He howls with laughter, shaking his head while he holds his stomach. "Oh my God, no...well, at least not personally. I've worked here for over three years, and in all that time, I'm the only bartender who hasn't dipped my dick in that jar of honey. And I'm the only bartender still working here." He raises his eyebrows to emphasize the correlation. "I won't pretend to be a fucking saint. On more than one occasion, I've had a little too much to drink and found myself balls deep in one of the girls here, but I've got some standards."

  "Should I tell her I have a girlfriend?" I ask, hoping he gives me a different answer than my intuition.

  "Negative, Ghost Rider. And whatever you do, don't bring your girl up here unless you want to break up with her. Although, one good thing about Tasha claiming you tonight is that the other girls will back off, knowing she's making her play. She rules the roost around here, if you haven't caught on quite yet."

  I spin around to face him, crossing my arms over my chest with aggravation. “So what am I supposed to do then?”

  “You walk the fine line of flirting without fucking,” he closes the cooler door after having restocked all of the beers, “and hope she finds someone that catches her attention. You wear her down before she does you.”

  “Is that what you did? Is that why she doesn’t try with you?”

  Blowing out an exasperated breath, he shakes his head. “Nah, man. Brody told her he doesn’t share with his brother.”

  “Wait! Your brother is Brody? Our boss, Brody?” I question disbelievingly.

  He snickers. “You’re a quick learner.”

  “And he doesn’t share wh—” I stop myself mid-thought as it all falls into place. “Her and Brody hook up?”

  “I told you—Venus fly trap. Don’t get caught, man.”

  At three-fifteen, I finally pull up in front of my apartment, my body feeling like I just finished a triathlon. Sluggishly, I tread through the snow from my car to the front door, lacking the energy to even hurry out of the cold.

  The apartment is quiet when I enter, and other than the light over the sink, the place is dark. I detect the lingering scent of Chinese food, and the unopened fortune cookie along with the ‘Leftovers in the fridge’ note on the table confirms my suspicion. My empty stomach rumbles at the thought of food, but I’m too tired to even eat.

  Lumbering down the hall, I peek my head in Caleb’s room to check on him and find him passed out in his beanbag chair, with the home screen of Call of Duty illuminating the room. An empty bag of Funyuns is crumpled up at his feet next to his dropped XBOX controller, his gaming headset is still covering his ears, and his vaporizer is resting in his lap. Chuckling under my breath at how he’s rocking the whole pot-head look, I remove the headphones and set the vaporizer off to the side, then lift him up—which isn’t nearly as easy as it used to be—and turn around to take him to his bed.

  I stop before ever taking a step, shocked to find Hudson curled up on top of the comforter, sleeping soundly. She hasn’t changed out of her jeans and t-shirt, and knowing that she’s used to getting up before the crack of dawn, I can only imagine she’s been asleep for quite
some time. I also know she was probably scared to leave Caleb alone, afraid he’d have a seizure and she wouldn’t be around to hear it, even though he’s been episode free for fifteen days now, the last one being at Hudson’s house a couple of days before we went home to pack up for the move.

  After lowering my brother onto the mattress, I move around to scoop her up in my arms and carry her across the hall to my room. She stirs when I lie her down in my bed, her long lashes fluttering open as her sleepy blue eyes focus on my face.

  “You’re home.” She smiles softly, reaching up to brush her fingers across my cheek. “Did you have a good night?”

  I nod, taking in her beauty, which seems to be magnified lying on my pillow, surrounded by my sheets. “I am and I did, but I’m happy to be home,” I grasp her wrist and drag it over to my mouth, kissing the inside against her pulse, “especially when my girl’s waiting for me.”

  Her gaze hones in on where my lips press against the delicate skin, a hushed moan escaping her lips. “I like being here waiting for you.”

  Releasing her hand, I kiss her forehead and stand upright. “I need to take a quick shower and wash off this stink. I’ll be right back, okay?”

  Nodding, she watches as I retreat from the room, and when I return ten minutes later, clean, fresh, and ready to get some much needed rest, I slide onto the mattress to discover her stark naked between the sheets. She rolls over with her long blond hair fanning out on the pillow, and curls her lips up in a naughty grin.

  “Remind me who your girl is again.”

  So it turns out I like sex. Like really, really like it. I’m not sure why I waited so long to try it out, but now that I’ve discovered how great it can be, I don’t plan on stopping. Ever.

  Maybe it’s just Crew, but he’s so gentle and patient with me, never rushing or rough, always ensuring I’m enjoying it as much as he is, despite the fact last night was the first time we’d done it in a real bed. The greenhouses, the storeroom in the lodge, and even both of our cars have been more than accommodating over the last couple of weeks, as we’ve been unable to keep our hands and mouths off of each other. But there was just something different about being in a bed—his bed—and then actually sleeping together afterwards that made it seem like something…more.

  Oh, and there was the part where he called me his girl and I nearly melted into his sheets. Perhaps that had something to do with it too.

  I lie awake for quite some time before I finally wriggle my way out from under the dead weight of his limbs, finally realizing that because he got home so late and then stayed up to pleasure me, he’s not going to be getting up anytime soon. My dad covered the greenhouse chores for me this morning, but I need to get home to help Mel and Grams with Thanksgiving dinner, which like all Sunday dinners is open to the resort guests.

  Slipping back into my jeans and shirt from the night before, I kiss him on the forehead, grab my purse off the dresser, and quietly exit the room. As soon as Mary sees me emerge from the hallway, she jumps off of the barstool where she’s sipping on a cup of coffee and thumbing through a magazine, throwing her arm around me in a tight hug.

  “Thanks again for staying with Caleb last night. I hope he was on his best behavior,” she greets me with a cheerful smile as she releases me from her embrace.

  I chuckle while padding over to where I left my boots by the front door and sliding my feet into them. “He minded his manners for most of the night, even offering me his bed while he played his game.”

  “Oh, Lord,” she laughs. “Now, he’ll never want me to wash his sheets, and not to mention, he’ll love gloating to Crew about finally getting you in his bed.”

  “Anytime you need me to stay with him, I’ll be more than happy to,” I offer as I push my arms into the sleeves of my coat, “and let me know when you guys start to run low on supply. I brought over another two ounces last night, which should last a few weeks.”

  “I will, but I really think he’s okay at this point. The new doctor is very encouraged with his responsiveness to the CBD, and hopefully, if he continues on this path, he’ll be ready to enroll at public school for the spring semester. We’re going to start with leaving him alone a couple hours at a time. I know he’s dying for some privacy, having had Crew and me in his face constantly for the last couple of years. It’s hard for him, especially at his age.” She stops momentarily as she rounds the bar into the kitchen, grabbing the coffee pot. “You sure you don’t have time to stay for a cup of coffee? The boys will be asleep for hours.”

  Smiling regretfully, I shake my head. “On any other day, Mary, I’d love to, but if you want mashed potatoes and green bean casserole to go with your turkey and dressing this afternoon, I better get home and help out.”

  “Ah, yes. I forgot about you needing to help with the Thanksgiving prep. We should get together soon, just the two of us, and have coffee or lunch or something. I feel like I’m not doing my motherly duty if I don’t show you embarrassing pictures of Crew when he was a kid…though I’m not quite sure which box those are in.” She snickers, tipping her head at the mountain of unpacked boxes still lining one wall of the dining area.

  “I’ll take you up on that offer any other time,” I pause to glance at the digital clock on the stove, noting it’s half past nine, “but for now, I’ll see you around two?”

  “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Everything about Thanksgiving dinner is perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.

  All of the guests, including the Elliott family, rave over the meal, particularly the side dishes made from homegrown vegetables and seasoned with herbs out of my garden. My older sisters, namely Dakota, apparently left their jealousy at home this time, and even more, they seem to be happy for me, flashing knowing winks and mischievous grins in my direction. I feel like I'm walking around with a flashing sign around my neck that says ‘Freshly Fucked by This Guy’ with an arrow pointing at Crew, who hasn't left my side all afternoon. Not that I really mind any of it; after all, I like being his girl.

  While the adults and Caleb take a 4:20 smoke break, Mel makes fancy after-dinner coffee drinks—both with and without alcohol—and I begin to gather the copious amounts of desserts Grams prepared from the lodge kitchen. After placing the first of the pies and banana pudding on the serving table, tastefully decorated in harvest oranges and autumn reds, I return to the back to grab the next round of goodies, when a strong hand circles my waist and yanks me backward to collide with a firm chest. The heat from his body, along with his familiar clean, masculine scent, infiltrates my senses, snugly wrapping around me like my favorite jeans fresh out of the dryer.

  "Hey, gorgeous." Crew nuzzles his nose into the sensitive area beneath my ear, nipping playfully at my lobe. "After that big meal, I've got a sweet tooth, and I was hoping you could help me out a little before I go to work."

  Giggling softly, I lean my head back onto his fleece-covered shoulder and grant him full access to my neck. "I think between the Caramel Coconut Cannabis Cookies, the Pot Pecan Pie, the Milk Chocolate Mary Jane Mousse, and the other normal desserts, you can find something to satisfy your craving."

  "Uh-uh," his deep voice hums against the delicate flesh while he peppers kisses up and down my throat, "I had something else in mind—something a little more tart, with a sugary cream filling."

  My face flames with embarrassment and I squeeze my thighs together as heat pools in my center. "I-uh, I don't think Grams made any lemon meringue macaroons today," I stammer breathlessly.

  "Hudson," he warns, slowly dropping his hand down my midriff as his fingers grow dangerously close to brushing over my mound.

  An uncontrollable moan bubbles up from my chest, but it’s swallowed by Crew's mouth before it emerges. He kisses me hard, his lips fervent, tongue insistent, and words are flowing from my mouth before I even realize it.

  "Meet me in my bedroom in ten minutes. The front door is unlocked," I whisper as we break apart.

  His lips curl up in his s
ignature panty-dropping smile. "I'll be waiting."

  Eight minutes. That's exactly how long it takes me to arrange the remainder of the desserts in the dining room, sneak away to my house, and lock my bedroom door behind me. Spinning around, I find Crew—a very naked Crew—sprawled out on my bed with his head propped up by a mountain of pillows.

  "C'mere, baby," he drawls, his Texan accent heavier than normal. "I'm ready for that dessert."

  I kick my shoes off and saunter across the carpet, my heart thudding with growing excitement. Even though we’ve been intimate over half a dozen times, most recently just over twelve hours ago, I learn something new about his body—as well as mine—each time. And I can’t wait to see what this evening’s lesson will teach me.

  Pushing himself up to sitting, he lowers his feet to the floor and partially opens his legs, giving me an excellent view of his already-hard shaft. I try not to stare, but fail miserably. His arms shoot out and grab my hips, then pull me close so that his face is mere inches from my chest. Then, drawing the hem of my sweater up to expose first my stomach, and then my breasts, he quickly tugs it over my head and throws it to the side.

  "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asks while unbuttoning my jeans and hauling the denim down my legs, my panties going along for the ride. "I can't fucking get enough, Hudson." His lips sizzle against my ivory skin as he slides off the mattress and down to his knees in front of me, trailing soft kisses from my belly button down to my throbbing sex. "I’m like a damn junkie, and you're my drug...always fiending for my next fix."

  What he says after that, I miss altogether, because the moment his mouth lands firmly at the apex of my thighs, all I can feel are the baritone vibrations of his words rippling through my body. With one hand securely grasping my waist, he hooks the other behind my knee and lifts my left leg up off the floor, resting my foot on the bed frame. Now, completely open and exposed to him, he settles between my legs and begins to do things with his mouth that I never dreamed were possible.

 

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