by Nikki Ash
“Yeah, I’ve heard of you. Although, I’m not sure why you were so eager to be introduced to the man who’s fucking your ex-girlfriend.”
Gerald’s jaw drops, and his eyes bounce back and forth between Nevaeh and me. “Bullshit!” he hisses. “Nevaeh is a virgin. She doesn’t have sex.”
Well, this just got interesting.
Nevaeh tenses, and I pull her closer into my side. I don’t know who the fuck this guy thinks he is, but I’m about to put him in his place for Nevaeh’s sake. Leaning toward Gerald, I say slowly, “Well, Gerald, the fact my cock has been pounding into her tight, warm fucking cunt night after night for the last year says otherwise.”
His fists tightening tells me I’ve hit a nerve, and that has me grinning. Just as he’s about to say something, Logan walks up. “What’s up, Ethan?” Logan looks from Nevaeh to me, and I know I need to end this before Logan fucks it up for this girl.
Turning to Nevaeh, I lay it on thick, knowing her ex is hanging onto every word I say. “Baby, I need to get back to work, but I’ll see you later.” I give her a wink and a quick kiss before letting go of her and walking away with Logan, who looks confused as fuck.
Once we’re out of earshot, he says, “Who was that hot chick and why the fuck were you calling her baby?”
As we head back to my office, I explain the little I know, which isn’t really much.
“So how did it feel?” Logan asks, dropping into a chair.
I close my door and sit behind my desk. “How did what feel?”
“To be someone’s boyfriend.” He laughs.
“I’ve been a boyfriend before, asshole.” At one time in my life I was a whole lot more.
“And I think I made a damn good boyfriend if I say so myself.” I nod jokingly. “Plus, it was so short-lived, I didn’t have time to fuck anything up.” I chuckle. “Actually, I take that back. I think I did kind of fuck it up.”
“In the thirty seconds you were pretending?” Logan raises a brow in disbelief.
“Apparently she’s a virgin, so when I told him we’d been fucking for the last year, he damn near lost his shit. He probably thinks she’s a whore now.”
Logan laughs. “Did you at least get her number?”
“Hell no. The last thing I need is some innocent girl getting attached to me.”
“True,” Logan agrees. “What did you say her name was?”
“Why?” I ask, suddenly feeling protective over this woman I don’t even know.
“Just asking.” He shrugs nonchalantly.
“She’s off-limits.”
Logan laughs. “I wasn’t planning to go there.”
“Good, don’t. Now, let’s talk about the dirty cop,” I say, switching gears. “How the fuck did you let it get to the point he owes over two hundred grand?”
“He’s a fucking cop, Ethan. I couldn’t say no. Plus, he was good for it.”
“You know better than that shit. You don’t take bets people can’t back up.”
“He made comments, man.”
“Threats?” My ears perk up. Surely, that dirty fucking cop didn’t threaten me or my business.
“He said he would be forced to let the higher-ups know what’s going on downstairs.”
I slam my fist on my desk. “This shouldn’t be the first time I’m hearing about this. Two hundred thousand dollars isn’t chump change, and him not paying up makes me look like a fool.”
“I fucked up,” he admits, “but he had the money. I saw it. I think he’s gambling elsewhere.”
“You got reckless and now we’re going to have to handle this shit. If I let him get away with this, other guys will think they can fuck me over. We’ll go over to his place tomorrow and confront him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, sorry doesn’t get me my fucking money, nor does it stop me from looking like a fucking chump. I don’t give a fuck if it’s the goddamned president. We don’t allow people to bet who can’t pay up. It’s bad for business.”
Logan stands and, without saying another word, walks to the door. As he’s leaving, in walks Carmen. She gives Logan a flirty smile before she closes the door behind her.
She saunters up to me and places herself between my legs and the desk—a woman on a mission. My mind goes to the white dressed angel from earlier. Her innocent eyes and full lips, swollen and pink from our kiss. The way she nervously played with her bottom lip. Holy shit, I need to stop thinking about this woman. Maybe I can fuck her out of my system.
Sighing loudly, I look at Carmen, who is the opposite of Nevaeh in every way, at least on the outside. On the inside, all women are the same. As I rake my gaze down Carmen’s face and body, I wonder what it was I ever saw in her. Her caked on makeup that I used to think was sexy, now looks overdone in comparison to Nevaeh’s natural beauty. The tits I loved to fuck aren’t appealing in the slightest. Nevaeh’s aren’t even half the size of Carmen’s, but I bet hers are perky and would fit perfectly in my palms. Carmen’s short skirt that usually turns me on now looks cheap, like she’s trying too hard. Holy fuck, has this woman broken me?
Before I can think twice, I push my chair back and stand. “It’s not happening, Carmen. I have somewhere I need to be.”
I rush her to the door and down the hall, my eyes searching the club, looking for that sexy little angel. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I need to find her. I go back to where we were just a short time ago, but she’s gone. I stalk toward the dance floor, scanning the area, but I don’t see her. And for the first time in my life, I chase after a woman who, without even meaning to, has brought me to my goddamn knees.
The club closes at four in the morning, and I’m there at the door when the last person walks out.
“You okay, boss?” Kenny, the bouncer who mans the main entrance, asks as I stare out the door. It’s still dark outside, the sun not due to come up for another couple hours.
“Yeah, I was hoping to catch someone before she left.” I walk back to my office and think about how one interaction with Nevaeh affected me so deeply. I should feel relieved I couldn’t find her. What would I even do with a woman like her? According to her ex, she’s a fucking virgin. Relief: that’s the emotion I should feel, but then why is it that all I feel is regret?
Nevaeh
Go to a club
Get drunk
Kiss a stranger
Sitting on the edge of my bed, freshly showered and in my pajamas—I can finally feel my feet again now that I’m out of those crazy heels—I strike through three more items on my list, excited that in one night I experienced not one, not two, but three things. I glance at the list and smile. It’s a list of things I want to do and experience before I die, most of which my mom would have a heart attack and die over if she saw. I created it during a low day, hoping to give me something to look forward to. There are still so many items left on the list, I can’t imagine actually completing it, but I’m determined. Now more than ever.
Some of the items include:
Get married
Get a tattoo
Learn to play cards
Make love somewhere crazy (after I’m married)
The list goes on and on. I laugh at some of the items I wrote years ago like Go skydiving. I’ve had this list for so long, the paper it’s written on is crumpled and worn, but I keep it to remind myself of everything I’ve yet to experience in this life. If I have it my way, I will complete every single item.
Looking at the items I crossed out, my mind goes back to that gorgeous man and the way he consumed me. The reason for kissing him became irrelevant when he picked me up and placed me on top of the bar. I’ve never been kissed like that before, and it took everything in me to pull away from him when all I wanted to do was keep kissing him. How could a man I don’t even know give me butterflies Gerald couldn’t give me in the two years we were together?
He’s a stranger, for crying out loud. But a devastatingly good-looking stranger…
His handsom
eness, however, was overshadowed by a coldness that clung to him. I felt a sense of danger seeping from him, but at the same time still felt safe. He’s the kind of man you stare at from a distance, hoping you won’t get caught, but never dare to approach. Yet there I was, in his arms, being devoured by him. It’s been over an hour since his lips were on mine, but I swear my body is still trying to recover from that mind-altering kiss.
Just as I’m folding my paper back up and placing it into my underwear drawer, Blaire bursts into my bedroom in her pajamas with two glasses of chocolate milk. We always have some on hand for the moments that require it. Whether it’s to celebrate our birthday or the two of us getting hired, or simply to cheer each other up after having a bad day—the chocolate milk symbolizes our friendship.
Blaire sits on my bed after handing me my glass—her short pajama bottoms and tank making my long-sleeved flannel pajamas look like something a nun would wear. My mom bought me these pajamas for Christmas, and while they’re definitely ugly, they’re super comfy. Sometimes I wonder how Blaire and I have remained friends all these years. Why she would want to deal with my mom and all my hang-ups. But instead of questioning it, I thank God for her because I can’t imagine my life without her in it. I guess it’s true what they say, opposites attract. Although, are we really opposites when most of the time I’m wishing my life could be more like hers and less like my own?
“Okay, I’m dying to know what happened.” Blaire takes a large sip of her chocolate milk before she sets it on my nightstand. “You said you would tell me when we got home, and we’re home, so spill.” She gives me her pouty face she’s mastered to get what she wants.
“I can’t believe you weren’t there to witness it.” I sip my milk slowly.
“I know! So, tell me.” She crosses her legs and leans forward like she’s a five-year-old about to be told the biggest secret.
I take a deep breath. I need to get this off my chest and Blaire is the only person I can talk to about this. My mom would completely freak out, I would never mention it to my dad, and my brother would want to find this guy to give him a beating.
“I ran into Gerald on my way to the bathroom and he had this beautiful woman with him. She was way prettier than me, and she looked at me like I was the dirt on the bottom of her heel, and get this, he introduced her to me as his fiancée.”
“That small dick motherfucker.” She grabs her milk from my nightstand and takes another sip. Blaire’s never had a filter. She’ll tell you how it is, and she doesn’t care who you are or if it’ll hurt your feelings. She has hated Gerald with a passion from the day she met him and has mentioned on several occasions she would love nothing more than to castrate him.
“Be nice,” I start to say, but I’m interrupted when Blaire places her hand on my shoulder.
“Trust me, that was me being nice. He’s an asshole. You don’t know what it was like to hear you cry yourself to sleep for days.”
I nod because what can I say in response to that—she’s right. After we broke up, I spent days lying in bed and crying myself to sleep, wondering if I could’ve done something differently, but knowing I couldn’t have. At least not without compromising my beliefs. I don’t always agree with the way my mom wants me to live my life, but there are parts of my religion I do believe in, and that includes choosing to wait until marriage to have sex.
“Okay, continue,” Blaire insists.
“He asked me if I was seeing anyone and, to save myself from being humiliated, I lied and said I was.”
Blaire grins like a freaking Cheshire cat. She would never judge me or make me feel guilty about anything. It’s easy and comfortable to talk to her, knowing I can tell her anything—unlike my mom, who’d have me in a confessional quicker than one could say Hail Mary.
“My little Nevaeh Hansen lying. I feel like I should hug you.” She holds out her arms and I roll my eyes, continuing my story.
“Without looking, like an idiot, I pointed toward the bar and said the guy I was seeing was over there…and to my surprise, Gerald wanted to meet him.”
Blaire’s eyes widen. “What did you do?”
Blush creeps up on me as I remember what happened next. “I walked up to a random guy and kissed him.”
Blaire jumps off the bed with her mouth hanging open, her milk almost sloshing out of the cup. “Are you freaking serious?”
“And he kissed me back,” I whisper excitedly.
“Oh my God! Who are you right now?” Blaire cracks up laughing. She sets her milk on the nightstand and hops back onto the bed. “How was the kiss?”
“It was amazing. It felt like the entire world around us disappeared. His lips were so soft yet strong, making me want to soak up every single drop of him. He consumed every part of me. I felt sparks, Blaire. Real sparks.”
“Was he cute?” Blaire asks, practically bouncing up and down on the bed in anticipation for my response. The woman has been boy crazy since we were in middle school. I remember when her mom bought her her first teen magazine featuring Zac Efron on the cover, and she snuck it over to my house so she could show it to me. My mom walked in and demanded she not bring that filth into our home again.
“He was undeniably beautiful. His dark brown eyes were like warm brownies straight from the oven!” I gush. “And my goodness, with his chiseled jawline and perfectly straight nose, he could be a model in a magazine. He wore a sharp, expensive-looking black suit that fit his body like it was tailored perfectly for him. And when we kissed, my hands went to his chest and I felt the hardness of his muscles underneath his clothing…”
And now I’m picturing him naked.
Stop it, Nevaeh.
He’s a stranger.
You’ll never see him again.
And even if you did, a man like him would never want a Catholic virgin like yourself. He probably has dozens of hot women lining up to get a piece of him.
“Damn, he does sound hot!”
“And strong!” I add. “Right in the middle of our kiss, he picked me up and placed me on top of the bar like I weighed nothing!”
“Shut the front door! I can’t believe I missed all this!” Blaire throws her arms in the air, making me laugh. “Okay, so what happened once you finished your hot and heavy make out session?”
“Gerald walked over with his new fiancée, and the guy I had just attack-kissed took complete control of the situation after I silently pleaded with him to help me. He was the best two-minute boyfriend…until he lied.”
“What did he lie about?” Blaire’s brows furrow in confusion.
“He told Gerald that he and I were sleeping together behind Gerald’s back for a year. Only he said”—I lean in close to Blaire to whisper—why, I have no clue. Maybe I’m afraid my mom will hear me all the way from her house and slap me with a Bible—“he was pounding into my tight, warm, effing…” I point down to my vagina.
“Vagina?” Blaire finishes my sentence.
“Nope…the c-word.”
Blaire cackles as my cheeks heat up from embarrassment.
“And you know what? I never imagined such derogatory words could be such a turn on, but it was. He has me feeling things I’ve never felt before.”
“I love this guy. We have to find him again.”
I shake my head. “He left before I could even thank him. I feel so bad. I pretty much used him.”
“Well, you shouldn’t. Gerald is an asshole and needed to be put in his place. Did you get his name?”
“Ethan.”
“Sexy name.” She waggles her eyebrows. “Next time you see your two-minute boyfriend, Ethan, tell him to kick Gerald’s ass. He sounds like the kind of guy who totally would.”
“I wouldn’t want Gerald to get hurt. We might’ve ended on bad terms, but he’s not a bad guy.”
Blaire completely ignores my comment and changes the subject. “I hope you had a great birthday, Nevaeh. You deserve everything and more.” She pulls me into a hug and I hug her back, tears prickling my
eyes. There’s so much life I want to experience. I just need to make it happen.
“I had an unforgettable night, and although I’m sure Ethan has forgotten about me by now, I’ll never forget him or that kiss.”
“I’m sure you have embedded yourself into that man’s brain. There’s no way he has already forgotten about you. I wish you would see how damn beautiful you are. On top of that, you’re selfless and caring and have the biggest heart. You’re one of the best people I know, and one day a man will appreciate everything you bring to the table.” Blaire gives me one more hug before we say good night.
After saying my prayers, I get into bed, close my eyes, and say one last silent prayer, hoping to have sweet dreams of a certain brown-eyed man who made my birthday this year extra special.
Nevaeh
It’s Friday night, and I’m standing outside my brother’s door. Since I only have a few days left of spring break, I decided to pay him a visit. Stephen swings the door open and smiles wide when he sees me. “Hey, sis!”
I flash him a quick smile back, happy to finally hang out with him since I haven’t seen him in a couple weeks. He was supposed to meet us for my birthday but ended up bailing at the last minute. Now that I’m thinking about it, I’m glad he didn’t show up because the kiss with Ethan most likely wouldn’t have happened if he were there.
And I’ll never forget that kiss. Or that man.
“Get in here.” He swings the door open wider, stepping aside so I can pass through. As he’s shutting the door, his phone rings. When he looks down at it, a frown replaces the smile he was just sporting a moment ago.
“Give me a second.” He puts a finger up before he answers the phone, walking into the other room. He’s gone for a few minutes before I hear his voice getting closer once again. “Okay, I have to go. I’ll call you later.”
He ends the call, gives me a quick kiss on the cheek, then plops onto the couch, only to get right back up when the doorbell rings.
“Did you order Chinese?”