by T Gephart
My hands stayed on her as my mouth kept its distance. “Maybe we leave the kissing part for a bit. Did you want a drink?”
“Yes, drinks are good.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “I think we need those. Those would definitely help.”
Noticing that she hadn’t been chilling with a beer the day we’d met, I figured she was more a cocktail kind of girl. Not a problem for me. I had a few bottles of liquor tucked away that would do the trick. Hopefully help her not be so uptight.
She sunk her ass into my couch, watching me as I turned and moved into the kitchen. The grin spread across my lips as I heard her mumble something about my ass when I reached up and grabbed a bottle. The vodka bottle being the closest was the one that I palmed, grabbing a couple of tumblers from the shelf beside it as I turned back to face her.
The plan to grab some ice and possibly a mixer sidelined when I caught sight of her second smile of the night. Maybe it was the drink in my hand or the residual view of my chest, the reason for it not really important other than it was happening. That smile of hers was pretty damn compelling.
“Here we go; I’m assuming you have nothing against vodka.” My ass joined hers on the couch as I sat the tumblers down on the coffee table beside us, the bottle tugged from my hand as she pulled it toward her.
“I can mix us up something.” I watched as her fingers quickly twisted the lid from the bottle. “I think I might have some juice in the fridge.”
“Great, thanks.” She brought the bottle to her lips and took a massive swallow.
“Or you can drink it straight, that works too.” The OJ obviously not needed. Right. This was turning out to be an interesting evening. Not at all how I’d planned my night, but I couldn’t say the latest turn of events was disappointing. The new direction intrigued the hell out of me.
“This is really strong. Wow.” She coughed as she moved the bottle away from her mouth, her eyes starting to water.
“Yeah. Straight vodka isn’t great. It tastes better if you add it to something.” I watched as she once again took another swig.
“Ugh. Yeah this is terrible.” She winced, the mouthful of vodka traveling down her throat, her hand clutching at her chest.
“Then why are you still drinking it?” A valid question seeing as she was about to get cozy with the bottle again. I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or pull it from her hands.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her smile confirming she had no idea what she was doing.
“Look, why don’t you let me make us a drink. It will taste better.” And at the very least give the bottle a fighting chance at being appreciated.
“Ok, but don’t take too long. I’m not here for the drink. We’re supposed to be getting naked. We need to have sex. We need to move to that part.”
She was so fucking adamant. I think she’s said the word screw or a variation of it at least ten times since we walked in the door and I wasn’t sure which one of us she was trying to convince. I sure as hell didn’t need a pep talk.
“I think we should probably hold off on the sex, just for a while.” Or at the very least until I was convinced she wasn’t going to freak out when we got to the good parts. So far I’d only managed to get my shirt off, give her a half-assed kiss, and she was already looking like she might hyperventilate.
If it had been anyone else, I probably wouldn’t have bothered, but there was something about this particular girl that had me perplexed. No way was I not seeing this out. My other concern was if I took her back to the bar and she was still waving the lets-have-sex flag, it might not end well. There’d be a million assholes lining up to help her with that, most of them not giving a rat’s ass about her mental health or putting on the brakes if she had a change of heart. Whether I understood the reasons why didn’t matter, she was staying with me tonight. Sex completely optional.
“I know what you’re thinking.” She shook her head as she tried to focus on me, the couple of swigs of vodka already starting to take effect. “This is where I tell you this is a rebound thing because my boyfriend dumped me, and I need to get him out of my head. Where I cry about the fact I was with him for two years and he left me without a second thought. But this isn’t a revenge thing, he doesn’t even care. He’s getting married.”
Well, I guess that explained the reason she was no longer part of a couple. The rundown she gave me sounding more like someone was caught up on a whole lot of history rather than just looking for a good time.
“Actually I wasn’t thinking that at all.” I didn’t even try to lie. “What I was thinking was you are really sweet and as much as I’d love to have sex with you, I’m more concerned with making sure that whatever we do, is as good for you as it is for me.”
“Are you always so smooth? I’ve seen you, you know, with girls. How do you do it? They flock to you. You always have a girl.” Words just tumbled out her mouth like she didn’t have a filter. I liked her this way and hoped I got to see more of it. The revelation that I was so into this girl, someone I barely knew, just as surprising as the situation.
“I don’t know, maybe it’s the abs.” I grinned, hoping we’d broken through whatever wall she had up.
“Bullshit, what do you say to these women?” The wall was definitely gone and in its place some confidence was starting to poke through. I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t the booze.
“It’s not like a party trick, Alison.”
“Sure it is. Do whatever you do to them, to me. Seduce me.”
Performing that shit on a dime was not happening. It’s not like I had an actual routine like a trained monkey or something, I just knew how to talk to women. Knew how to make them feel good about themselves which in turn made them feel good about being with me. It wasn’t hard actually; you’d be surprised how by purely being attentive could get you ridiculous amounts of women. And I was all about the finer details.
“Is that what I’m supposed to do? Seduce you? I thought you wanted to screw?” She’d been pretty clear about that. Hell the word had gotten more of a work out than I had in the last week, and did anyone even use it in general conversation? Not in relation to sex anyway. Fuck, sex, yes—screw not so much.
“Yes, but I want the line as well.” I kid you not, she pouted like I’d taken her candy.
“There aren’t any lines. I don’t have an act that I perform to get women into bed. I just talk to them.” Once again I led with the truth. Lies weren’t in my bag of tricks and I wasn’t about to start now.
“Just talk. C’mon. Really? What do you do?” She tugged on my arm as her eyes spelled out their disbelief. “Pretend for a minute I’m not a sure thing.”
“Alison, your ex-boyfriend was obviously an asshole and there are clearly some hurt feelings there, but regardless of all that stuff, you are not a sure thing.”
“But I—” She didn’t get a chance to finish.
“You are beautiful. And I think you’re really sexy and even though you’re acting crazy, I’m almost certain that underneath it all is a sweet girl who isn’t a hundred percent sure you’re down with this. Any time you change your mind, I’ll take you home. There are no assumptions, not on my part.”
She didn’t talk, just looked at me for a while as my words settled. Not sure what her limp-dick boyfriend was like, but she wasn’t going to get bullshit lines from me. Not the way I operated. And if there was one thing I’d learned having a girl as a best friend, it’s that there were enough lies in the world without my contribution.
“Wow, now I really want to have sex with you.” She moved in closer, her tits heaving up and down as she breathed a little heavier.
“Here’s a hint.” I tipped her chin so I got a good look into her eyes. “If you want to have sex with me, maybe stop talking and let me kiss you.”
“Please.”
It was more than a word, it was a plea and I was more than ready to take-two on the action she’d started when she’d walked into the bar. My lips moved closer to hers, her mouth parti
ng in anticipation. Her eyes automatically closed as I made contact, her body moving closer to mine. She eased off the brakes a little and moved her mouth giving me better access as I slid in my tongue. Now we were getting somewhere. The moan that was trying to jailbreak from her lips, muffled by my mouth. It stayed on hers, hungry for more. She was into it, her hands reaching up and pulling me closer. And being that I like to keep things even, I reciprocated by bringing her head closer to mine, feeling her body against me.
At this point, I had no game plan. I was cutting straight to bootleg play and seeing where the hell it ended up. I wasn’t sure that sleeping with her was even a possibility, but I wanted to kiss her and so we were going to do more of that. Who knew, maybe that’s all we’d be doing, and I can’t say that I’d be pissed-off. Sweet. That’s exactly what her mouth was, and I wanted as much of it as she was willing to give me.
“You are so good at this. You should teach a class or something.” She mumbled as things started to get more intense.
“Shhh, just let me kiss you some more.”
Rusty was an amazing kisser. Ten stars on a five-star rating. Seriously, seriously good. Rob had never kissed me like that, not like he literally wanted to drink me into his soul, which is what it felt Rusty was trying to do.
I wasn’t sure if we should be having sex or I should be swearing my allegiance to his lips, he was really that good. It wasn’t just his mouth, it was like his whole body was in on it. His hand wrapped my neck bringing my head closer as I laid on top of him, his fingers ever so slightly grazing my skin—it was most definitely a team effort, and I was happy to be their cheerleader.
Any hesitation I’d had slowly faded away. It wasn’t even the alcohol, it was him. Something about him made me feel totally at ease. He wasn’t rushing me, pushing me to get naked. He was slow.
Deliberate.
Savoring me.
The nerves and uncertainty disappeared as he took his time, every touch and caress either with his hands or lips, making me feel beautiful and wanted.
Our kissing spectacular—not a lie, he was like Cirque du Soleil with that mouth—had moved from his couch into his bedroom. This was a very welcome development, and while we were still clothed—except for the T-shirt I’d made him lose earlier—we were definitely heading for some adult action. This was it. We were finally going to get busy. I was going to have sex with him. Please Lord, don’t let him have a small penis. Or at the very least, let him know what to do with it.
“Hey.” He pulled his mouth from mine; that smile of his dazzling me. He totally must have had braces at some stage, no one’s teeth are that perfect.
“Hey.” I giggled back wondering if it was too forward to ask him to take off his pants now. He had asked me what else he could show me, and there were things I really wanted to see.
“You doing okay?” He brushed the hair out of my eyes.
So. Freaking. Smooth.
“Yes, yes. I am now.” The voice that floated out didn’t sound like it was mine. No, this voice sounded happier and a hell of a lot relaxed.
“Good.” His lips moved back to my neck, they felt nice there, all warm and soft against my skin. It was heaven and I was so blissed out, which is the only reason I could possibly have said the next thing that came out of my mouth.
“In the interest of full disclosure, I’ve seen you around. The bar wasn’t the first time.”
“Yeah, I get that quite a bit. It’s okay.” His grin curled up at the edges. Almost like he’d been expecting it. My mind scrambled with a logical explanation. Oh God, please let him not have been on America’s Most Wanted.
“Huh? What?”
“I get recognized; the band thing. It doesn’t bother me.”
“You’re in a band?”
Whoa. Band?
We had skipped past the so-what-do-you do conversation that usually happened before you swapped bodily fluids, so I had no idea what he did for a living. Musician wouldn’t have been my first guess, but I wasn’t sure there was a job that would be suitable to match his talents. His talents being that he was unbelievably gorgeous, but as far as I knew people didn’t get paid just for being hot. Even models had to strut down a runway or something. Musician? Well, at least he wasn’t a criminal; I suppressed the urge to cheer.
“Isn’t that where you’ve seen me?” He eyed me, curiously waiting for an answer.
In retrospect I should have just gone with that. It was so much less creepy than the truth. Yep, the band. That’s where I knew him. The big hole in my theory was I had no idea which band and what he even played. The truth seemed like my only option. Well, the only one I could work with in my currently frazzled state.
“Err. No?” It hadn’t meant to sound like a question but that’s exactly how it squeaked out of my mouth.
“Well now, you have to tell me.” His interest looked piqued. It was more conversation than I wanted to be having to be honest. I was more concerned about getting back to the kissing we’d been doing before. I wanted to cry. No, seriously he was just about to touch my ass, and the bulge in his pants felt substantial. He definitely did not have a small penis.
No, we were done talking. We’d talked. Then our lips got busy doing other things, better things than talking. Why did I have to open my big mouth? Who cares about full disclosure, this wasn’t a legal contract—it was a one-night stand.
Am I so defective I can’t even whore around like a normal person?
I want my orgasm, damn it!
“I don’t want to talk.” I tried unsuccessfully to flirt. My hands tried to get in on the action, roaming over the large and delectable expanse that was his chest. I wasn’t as smooth as he had been but I managed to not look like a complete amateur.
“Yeah, you do.” His arms stretched behind his head and anchored themselves. His body relaxed while mine still hovered above him. “So tell me where you’ve seen me and then we’ll do other stuff.” He wasn’t giving in.
“Sex?” I was hopeful, but I really needed to clarify.
“Yes.” He rolled his eyes, giving me a grin. “Especially now you’re calling it what it is.”
“Sorry, habit. Rob called it—” My mouth clamped shut at the mention of the demon’s name. Wow. Mood killer.
“It’s fine, Alison. You can say his name.” He didn’t seem the slightest bit annoyed. Not sure I’d have been so cool about the mention of someone else right before we were about to scre—God, damn it. It was like a sickness.
I had successfully not even thought about Rob in over an hour. The hurt and emotions that had been twisting in my gut and head on the way over to the bar had dissolved since being with Rusty. The kissing had most definitely helped too. “But I don’t want to talk about him.” Sadly, not talking about him did not erase the fact I was now thinking about him. And I didn’t want to be. Oh, crap. Talk about rotten timing.
“You know what I think? I think maybe you do. Maybe you’re not as over him as you claim to be.”
Talking about Rob and how I ended up jobless wasn’t how I wanted to be spending my evening. I had grand plans. One-night stand and moving on kind of plans, which was why I was in bed—granted still fully clothed—with a man I barely knew.
The sigh hadn’t meant to come out of my mouth, but much like Rob’s name, it spilled out all the same. Uninvited.
“So, tell me.” His head settled into the pillow. “First about the dumbass boyfriend, then we can talk about me.” Another panty-melting grin. Thank God I was on birth control because I couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t spontaneously conceive by the glow of his smile.
“So I don’t usually go home with men from a bar,” I started, my confessional happening whether I wanted to or not.
“Yeah, I kind of guessed.” His eyes dipped down to his naked chest. “I usually don’t strip on demand before I make out, so I guess we’re both trying something new.” The smile played on his lips showed no hint of annoyance.
“Well . . . it’s made the whole proces
s easier, just so you know. I appreciate it.” A smile of my own confirming the sentiment. “Truth is, I suck at relationships. My mother has had more boyfriends than I’ve had hot dinners and even so, still ended up alone. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes, so I didn’t date much.” I neglected to add guys in general weren’t interested in me because . . . well, I was less femme fatale and more plain Jane. “My meager beginnings also didn’t give me the best self esteem.” I glossed over being teased because I didn’t have the right brand of jeans or fancy new shoes. “And we had no cash so the only chance I had was to go to the local college and fight to get a decent job despite not having a degree from a fancy college.”
There I was spilling my guts to an almost complete stranger about stuff I’d barely told Renee. I expected to him to run any minute now.
“Fancy or not, you still got a degree. You should be proud of that. What about your dad?” he asked this without judgment.
“Who knows. Any guy in the Tri-State area around the age of forty could be a candidate.” I shrugged, no longer concerned about the father who’d been absent my whole life. “He probably doesn’t even know I exist.”
“Well, that sucks for him, because you’re pretty awesome.” His finger lazily traced my shoulder.
“You’re only saying that to be polite.”
“Oh, babe. I’m a lot of things but polite isn’t one of them.” He laughed, his beautiful toned body shaking below me. “So, go on—loser boyfriend? Let me take a stab in the dark. Acted like prince charming when you first met?”
“No,” I scoffed, slightly embarrassed he’d guessed correctly. “Okay, maybe yes. But I didn’t just date him straight away; he had to work for it. Things in my life had changed and everything was going so well. I thought maybe it was my time to be happy.” The story continued on how my once wonderful life had started to unravel.