2B or Not 2B

by Stephanie Witter

  “And how many are there?”

  He pulled back, a small smile tugging at the right corner of his plump lips. “Depends on you, Bridge.”

  “Yes, my Lord.” I grinned, trying to diffuse the tension. It was killing me to not be allowed to ask him about being a soldier or about why he was here instead of at a base or in Afghanistan or wherever the hell they sent soldiers to. But first, I needed this place. Once we knew each other more, things might be different. Right now, I could tell he was about to explode just because I asked this one tiny question. “Is that better?”

  “Yeah, right,” he said, rolling his eyes before turning up the volume of the TV.

  Chapter Three

  DAY 3

  The party was nothing special. It wasn’t too wild, and people were just enjoying the loud music and the flowing alcohol. It was a perfectly normal party, almost tame compared to some I went to in high school.

  I drank a second shot of tequila and smiled at Macon who was making a come-hither look at a poor girl ogling him. If only she knew how he liked to play hot and cold with women. He laughed and then looked back at me, bumping his shoulder against mine.

  “So, baby, ready to move your ass with me?” he asked me, tilting his head toward the packed living room where couples were dancing and groping each other.

  I looked down at myself. My boyfriend-cut black jeans, black converse and tight black tank top were nothing compared to the scantily clad girls in the apartment. Yet, being the only overweight girl among tons of thin, leggy girls wasn’t in my favor.

  “I’m not feeling like flaunting my fat.”

  He lost his smile immediately. He hated it when I talked like that about my body. He loved me like I was, and most of the time I loved me, too. But since what happened with the last guy I had been with, things had changed a little.

  “Baby, now you better follow me, or it won’t be pretty.”

  I rolled my eyes and shrugged. He put his empty beer bottle on the counter in the kitchen and grabbed my hand in a tight grip. He wasn’t kidding. I giggled and let him lead the way between the moving bodies. He stopped in the middle of the room and started to grind into me, his hips moving expertly with the loud heavy beat of a song I didn’t even know. I shook my head, but followed his lead.

  It was our thing. We had danced together since we were kids, but since high school, we liked to pretend to be into each other like the other couples. Oddly, it usually helped both of us to end the night with someone else.

  I turned and kept my back to his torso. Slowly, almost too slowly for the rhythm, I leveled myself down, my hands gliding against his body from his neck to his crotch. He chuckled in my ear and tightened his grip on my hips, a little too tight, pushing my ass against his hips. I put my head on his chest and moved my hands up and down his firm body, amused by the looks we were attracting. We were good at this.

  Just before the song ended, Byron walked pas me, leading a leggy brunette to his room, but just before he reached his door, his eyes focused on me, weighing on my heated skin. I was too far away to see his eyes, but I could feel their burn. And I couldn’t look away.

  He snaked an arm around the tiny waist of his new one-night stand and kissed her neck just before he opened his bedroom door. She giggled and sashayed in. He smirked at me and my blood ran cold in my veins. I looked away and gritted my teeth.

  Suddenly, the song ended. I turned around, laughing mischievously with Macon, and tried to forget everything about my roommate. My best friend’s eyes were happy. He hugged me and put his lips against my left ear. “Byron just left with a brunette, but he didn’t look happy to see how you were dancing with me.”

  I shook my head and released him from my tight embrace. “Like he cared. He knows you’re gay, and he was perfectly clear that he finds me annoying. I didn’t see him all day after breakfast.” I wanted to add that he hadn’t wasted any time finding someone to play naughty-sweaty-sexy with either, but it was better to keep my comment to myself.

  Macon brushed away my bangs that were sticking to my sweaty forehead. “I think I just found my guy for tonight,” he said, changing the subject. Macon, the whore, was unstoppable. I pushed him toward the improvised bar where a cute looking guy was waiting. I was not into red-haired guys, but this one knew how to wear the color. I could guess how the night was about to end for these two.

  “Hey.”

  I turned to the right where a tall guy was smiling at me. He had the perfect surfer look going for him. Shoulder length fair hair, blue dreamy eyes, light scruff, cargo tan shorts, white tank top, and biceps almost too big for his overall lean built.

  “Hey.” I smiled back, amused to know this trick still worked for me to attract someone.

  “So you’re B’s roomy?”

  He was one of Lord’s friends, then. Interesting. I let my eyes wander on his tall body, drinking him in. He wasn’t a preppy looking guy, the kind I loved, but to just to mess around, I avoided that kind of guy at any cost. Preppy looking guys were only if, by some miracle, I wanted to have a relationship, which I didn’t want. At. All.

  “And you are flirting with me?”

  His smile broadened at my bluntness. He brushed away his long locks of hair, and I could smell that he had been swimming before coming to the party. Chlorine smell emanated from his skin, it was enticing compared to the awful smell of smoke and alcohol spilled everywhere around the apartment. I glanced around and saw that some people were already starting to leave, scrambling through the door and bumping into the walls. It was late, after all, and most of these people must be getting ready for the new college year starting … tomorrow, since it was already way past two in the morning. A drunk guy stumbled into me, and his sweat coated my arm. I made a face and glared at the idiot, but he was already through the door. Lucky bastard. I looked back at “my” guy who was still smiling at me.

  “Definitely.”

  I kept my eyes locked with his baby blues and gave him my most mischievous smile. “Good thing I’m not against the idea of finishing the night in my bedroom.” I ignored the squeeze in my chest, the very thing that told me that I was doing what I told myself I wouldn’t do anymore. That wasn’t who I truly was, and yet … I needed to work off this edge. Seeing Byron lead that girl into his room got to me in a way I couldn’t even explain.

  A slight pink hue appeared on the guy’s cheeks, and I applauded myself. This game was easy for me, flirting and leading a guy to mess around with me for some time. All of this was the easiest thing. No complication, no expectations. Just fun.

  “Lead the way, London.”

  “Then give me your name.”

  He closed the little space between us and lowered his head to my ear. His breath smelled of beer, but it was his breath brushing my bare, slightly sweaty skin that gave me a little shiver.

  “Jordan.”

  I grabbed his hand and walked to my bedroom, pushing my way between some people still lingering around. Macon winked at me and gave me a thumbs-up when we walked past him, as he was still chatting up the guy he left me for. I winked back and opened my bedroom; fortunately, it was void of any horny couples.

  I walked in and released his hand before closing the door. He looked around my bare bedroom and then at the bed before his blue eyes landed back on me with a secretive smile. Without any hesitation, I closed the distance between us, pushed him on the bed and crawled next to him, my body flush against him. Focusing my eyes a second longer on his slightly-parted, thin lips, I kissed him.

  I closed my eyes tighter, willing myself to ignore the sounds coming from the other bedroom, but it was difficult. The girl’s moans were a little too loud for me. I had to up my game. I had to feel something for the guy I was kissing. I had to not think about what Byron was doing to that girl because the sounds she was making were damn distracting.

  I took Jordan’s lower lip between mine, sucking on it lightly before seeking entrance with my demanding tongue. He brushed his tongue against mine, slowly,
too slowly for my taste or my mood. I bit on his lower lip and let my hands wander on his firm chest, less muscular than I thought; definitely less than Byron’s chest. And now I was thinking of my roommate while I was kissing another guy. But I kept kissing Jordan, pushing away everything else, forcing my mind to turn off.

  While we kissed, I began to feel his erection pressing hard against his cargo shorts, making him groan low in his throat, and I heard the last people leaving the apartment and the music stopped. We were alone. Byron probably chased away his brunette of the night once he was finished with her and forced the others to leave. I tugged at Jordan’s zipper, and he broke the kiss, a question in his eyes. His labored breathing was fanning my face, making me proud to know I was able to make him so blinded by desire.

  “Are you loud when you come?” I asked with a mischievous smile as I opened his pants and tugged down his boxer briefs, freeing his hard length.

  His breath caught in his throat, a hiss passed through his gritted teeth. “Uh … it depends.”

  I palmed him and began to move both hands up and down. He moaned, but not loud enough for my liking. “Well then, let me help you come louder than you ever have.”

  And I brought my mouth to his cock. He groaned loudly. Very loudly. Game on.

  *

  DAY 3

  I hated the taste in my mouth. It was like I had swallowed a ball of cotton, damp with some nasty mix of alcohol. But I wasn’t hungover; I didn’t drink that much last night. I yawned and left the comfort of my bed. I brushed away some of my blonde hair hanging in my face, and I tugged down my black tank top to cover my stomach, which was not as flat as other girls’ that flaunted theirs everywhere on campus.

  Not ready to walk around the apartment in tiny shorts, I put on large pajama bottoms, equally black to cover my too-thick legs that are not exactly toned. I scrambled out of my room, and the scent of coffee greeted me even before I paddled into the kitchen.

  “Already up?”

  Byron was eating a doughnut at the kitchen counter, his mug of coffee calling my name. My eyes zeroed in on it,–I would be drooling over his chest if he wasn’t wearing a shirt―and I sighed.

  “It’s way past ten. It was time,” I mumbled, mistaking the cupboard of glasses for the one with the plates and mugs. I cursed soundlessly and poured myself some coffee. Adding more sugar than usual, my feet walked to the little table, and my body fell gracelessly on the chair. I wasn’t exactly a morning person most of the time.

  He joined me at the table and extended a doughnut to me, chuckling at my pout.

  “Are you a morning person?’’ I asked him just before I took a bite of the appetizing doughnut.

  “I’m used to waking up early to go for a run, but I have been slacking these last three days.”

  “Run?” I shook my head and glared at him when he laughed.

  A silence fell between us, punctuated by me almost spilling my coffee on the table after I choked. He crossed his strong arms over his muscled chest.

  “It looks like you ended the night well, Bridge.”

  I swallowed my coffee and smirked. “Just like you did, Lord.”

  He leaned over the table, closer to my hunched over form. His light blue eyes were serious. “At least I made her come.”

  I straightened my back and shrugged. “Believe me, I made him come, too. The bastard was actually loud.” I kept my promise to make him come louder than he was used to. Feeling proud of such a thing might seem weird, but I was and I didn’t care about what other people might think of me.

  He pursed his lips and sneered, his eyes blazing on my face. He ran a hand in his scruff, which was darker than last night. “I heard. I heard a little too much, actually.”

  I put down the last piece of my doughnut and frowned. I leaned closer to him over the table, mirroring him. “Don’t tell me the second ground rule is that I can’t have things getting loud in my bedroom, but you can.”

  He shook his head and the blue in his eyes darkened immediately. It was mesmerizing. “No, but next time, chose a guy who can make you come because you were awfully quiet.”

  I recoiled in my chair. “Gross, Lord!” But the ache low in my stomach and between my legs told something else entirely. Despite my better judgement, I was thrilled―and turned on―that my roomy didn’t like what happened with Jordan. And the weirdest part was that I had no idea why. “Don’t tell me you can’t listen to others having some fun.”

  He straightened like I punched him, his face pale. “What?! You’re crazy.”

  I stood up, but he startled me by standing up too, not ready to give me any kind of leverage. He wasn’t that tall for a guy, but he towered over me nonetheless. His steely eyes weren’t leaving my brown ones. I walked to him, invading his space. His shoulders tensed. My eyes darted briefly from his eyes to focus a second on his lips that were a little too inviting. At that moment I gazed at his thin scar, which was partially hidden by his thick scruff, but was more visible in the morning light falling on his temple.

  “And just so you know, you didn’t hear me because I fucked him with my mouth,” I said just above a whisper.

  “Fuck,” he managed to mutter after his Adam’s apple jumped a couple of times. His lips were slightly parted, his breathing louder than a second ago. I was playing dangerously.

  “Exactly.”

  I turned around and walked back toward my bedroom.

  “You didn’t just say that,” he called back at my retreating figure, disbelief audible in his voice slightly hoarse.

  “Not only did I say it, but I did it, too.” And I laughed, not turning around to see him gaping at me.

  I didn’t know exactly what I was doing, but I loved this lightness in my chest and stomach. I liked the laugh that was bubbling inside of me. I was enjoying myself and messing a little with Byron’s head was a perk I would have never expected when I read the newspaper the other day.

  *

  DAY 3

  What was annoying after hosting a party was the cleaning part. The apartment was a mess; the alcohol spilled everywhere, the bottles and cups thrown all over the place, and even the ashtrays were full to overflowing. Equally awful was the smell, a mix between sweat and stale alcohol. But we managed to clean everything fast, and now I was back in my bedroom, putting on clothes after a well-deserved shower.

  Macon was on his way over to pick me up so we could go out to see a movie. He wanted to drool for two hours over Charlie Hunnam, and I wasn’t against the idea either. Charlie Hunnam might help me chase away Byron from my mind.

  I laced my red converse and opened my door, but stopped when I heard voices. Male voices. I frowned and tippy toed to the living room, but stayed hidden in the hall. They couldn’t see me, but I had a perfect view of the four guys in there. Byron and Jordan were on the couch, while two other guys I saw last night, but didn’t catch their names, were sitting on the ground facing the couch, nursing a beer on the coffee table.

  Jordan’s hair looked lighter in daylight, and he seemed too cocky for my liking. I was pretty sure I wasn’t about to like what I was going to hear. All three guys were focused on him, and he loved it. It was so obvious with his stupid, proud smile, tugging at the lips I kissed just hours ago before asking him firmly to leave once his breathing was back to normal. It had been funny watching him put his pants back on with shaky hands. I really shook his world.

  “And do you know what she told me?”

  The guy sitting on the ground with his back to me leaned closer, his dirty blond hair not as shiny as Jordan’s was. “Shoot, man. Don’t leave us hanging.”

  I cringed and took a good look at Jordan. He gazed at each guy and stopped a second longer on a subdued Byron who was taking a sip of his beer. “Let me make you come louder than you ever have.”

  “Fuck,” Byron said, his beer bottle midair between his mouth and the coffee table. The others nodded, open-mouthed.

  “And did she ever make me,’’ Jordan added with a far away look
, probably replaying my handy work on him. Being a witness of guy talk wasn’t as fun as I thought it’d be when I was the main subject and my roommate was in the room. “The bitch knows how to use her mouth. And tongue. And her fucking teeth.”

  Classy. This guy wasn’t at all what I thought he was. But I brought it on myself after all. I didn’t even talk to him or get to know him a little before inviting him into my room.

  “Shut up.”

  “What, B. Is it bothering you that I had her first?”

  Byron put his beer bottle on the coffee table and turned a little more toward Jordan to lock eyes with him. Where Byron was rough and raw on the edges and a hell of an intimidation, Jordan was just a cocky little shit. “No, but hearing you when she was down on you is.”

  Jordan shrugged and winked. “Sorry, but if she’s as good when I tap that pussy, believe me you’ll hear me again.”

  One of the two other guys laughed like a moron, and Byron tensed more. “Shut the fuck up.” His voice wasn’t loud, but the firm tone said it all. “Can’t you ever respect a woman?”

  Jordan’s smile disappeared. “Like you’re any better.”

  Byron’s fists closed on his strong thighs encased in old, torn jeans. “Maybe, but Bridge is my roommate.”

  Jordan laughed at his face. The other two guys exchanged a look I didn’t like. In substance, it wouldn’t go well. “Just say it if you want to shag her, but I know you’re not one to want a petite blonde girl that’s almost fat.”

  I sucked in my breath. It was hard to hear I wasn’t somebody’s type partly because of my body. It’s not like my weird attraction to Byron would lead anywhere, but it wasn’t good for the ego when the guy you gave a blow-job to hours ago pointed out your failing body.

  “Fuck off.”

  “What?”

  Byron stood, and the two other guys jumped up, ready to act if things derailed. Jordan’s confused look was kind of funny, but it was Byron’s shaking body that had my attention. He barely restrained himself from snapping.

  “Leave before I send you to the hospital or the graveyard. Don’t piss me off any more than you already have!” His voice wasn’t that loud, but it was coming from deep within his chest, and his breathing was louder, shorter, harsher.