“This place is so cool!” I shout to Rachel over the techno music that blares around the room.
“I know!” she shouts back.
“And the guys are hot!” I continue to shout.
“I know!” she gushes.
We let the music sink into our bones for thirty minutes longer and then we rise from the sofa, ready to take the dance floor by storm. Downing our fifth round of drinks between the two of us, we head to the dance floor, as David Guetta and Akon blasts through the speakers.
When I dance, nothing else matters. It’s like I am in a different world. My mom made me take dance classes when I was fourteen to teach me structure and discipline and it worked for a couple of years. But I was intent on driving everyone up the wall, purposely deviating from what everyone expected of me. I dropped dance as a result, but she followed with piano lessons and voice training. The woman was relentless, but I’m thankful for everything I’d learnt because of her.
As I grind my waist to the beats I hear, I feel a hand caressing my body. I sink into the touch, gyrating my hips. The person turns me to face them. He is tall; typical blonde hair and blue eyes, fairly muscular upper body. He sports a long-sleeved navy blue t-shirt with faded blue jeans and a pair of black embossed suede Louis Vuitton moccasins. Eh. Not a Ben, but he’d have to do.
I chastise myself for thinking about Ben. He shouldn’t be an after-thought, despite the wild time we had together. Yet, I wished I were dancing with him instead of this young, arrogant, rich kid, who was probably decked out and at the club courtesy of his hefty trust fund. I scowl at my thoughts.
Arrogant or not, this boy can move. I am enjoying my dance with him. After four songs I decide to rest my feet and he follows me.
“Can I buy you a drink?” his voice vibrates in my ear.
“You can, and I have no doubt that you can. But buying it is up to you,” I sass, amusing myself.
A smile shadows his face as he picks up my correction of his grammar. His white teeth are partially crooked but, still, he is handsome. I have to give him that. “May I buy you a drink?” he corrects himself.
“Yes, you may, since you’re offering. I’ll have a Bacardi and cola on ice, hold the cherries.”
I look around for Rachel as he leaves to get my drink. I spot her dancing with an equally attractive guy. Dark hair, supple white skin, hairy, black jeans, white button down shirt and black boots.
Rachel is in her zone. She has her eyes closed and is grinding so far on him that you’d think she was trying to give him some on the dance floor. Her strawberry blonde hair is wet around her neck. Her short grayish-blue cocktail dress that hugs her hips so nicely is riding up with every bump and grind of her body.
Upon entering Joelle’s, she had stashed her leather jacket at the baggage/coat area, where the attendant handed us both tickets to collect our stuff when we were through dancing. Such great service here. They think of everything.
So she was free. Dancing until a voice said dance no more.
“Here you go.” The blonde guy returns and hands me my drink.
“Wow, that was fast,” I say, quickly perusing my drink.
I had learned my lesson while in high school when a guy drugged my drink. I didn’t see it fizzing, but thankfully, Rachel spotted it and we both kicked the guy’s ass. Since then, if a guy buys me a drink, I look for anything strange before drinking it. Sometimes, I end up not drinking it at all.
“I know the bartender,” he gloats.
“Rich kid, huh?” I assume.
“I won’t brag,” he sniffs, brushing off invisible lint off his shoulder.
“Oh, you don’t have to. You ooze spoiled rich kid,” I retort, growing weary of his arrogance.
“Ooh, smart mouth. I know what to do with smart mouths,” he coos, drawing closer.
I tilt my head to one side, perusing him seductively. Poor boy, he is in for a rollercoaster ride and doesn’t even know it.
“So, why are we here talking about it?” I set my drink down on the table in front of us.
Rachel comes over in that moment with her guy on hand. “Hey, we’re leaving. You ready?” she asks.
“I’ve been ready,” I state, staring pointedly at Blonde Guy.
He gives me a smirk and extends his hand to me. I take his proffered hand, rising, and he grips and squeezes my waist. I flash him a sultry look that earns me a gasp and widened eyes. Yup, now I’m in my zone.
Our entire apartment is carpeted with a soft, cream matting. It has two rooms, both with queen-sized beds, a walk-in closet with drawers on the outside, and huge vanities. The bathroom is spacious, having a large, pearl oval bath with brass lining and piping and a matching overhead shower. The kitchen has a black marble countertop and a black marble island, black stove and silver refrigerator.
The living room is big enough to be another room. We have one plush black leather couch, a comfortable grey L-shaped couch to the right of it and a black chaise lounge by the massive window that shows off the view of the Philadelphia skyline. Silk scarves cover the lamps in the living room, giving the room a rosy pink hue. The apartment, I thought, is girly, with a touch of masculinity – a healthy balance.
As the guys chat loudly with Rachel, I decide to get more comfortable. After a quick shower, I slip on a red lace Teddy and matching lace panties. A thick, curvy beauty, I fill the bosoms of my lingerie with my cleavage spilling to the top. The lace hugs my curves perfectly. There is no hiding my agenda in this outfit.
I saunter into the living room and catch the eye of Blonde Guy.
“Well, I think that’s my cue,” he mutters, getting up. He makes his way over to me and I tug him into my room, waving to Rachel and her guy and closing the door.
Turning into him, he cups my face and kisses me deeply. He moans into my mouth as our tongues touch. I undress him, tugging his shirt over his head and sliding his pants down after quickly pulling his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his fitted jeans. His erection strains through his black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Not as impressive as Ben’s though.
I run my hands silkily over his bare chest. He’s a waxer. So vain. He inhales sharply and shudders as I flick my finger over one of his nipples. I push him onto the bed and straddle him, reaching down and licking his nipples.
Blonde Guy grips my head and holds me in place as I tease him, sucking hard. He lets out a haunting groan and his erection throbs against my mound. Flipping me over, he sinks to the floor. He slinks my underwear down and off my legs then, pulling me down to him, buries his face in my center, much to my distaste. I hate when guys go down on me.
He licks wildly making me writhe with discomfort. Parting my folds, he flicks his tongue on my clit making everything south of my stomach tighten. I slip the dress over my head and begin to tease my nipples, taking them between my thumb and index fingers, rolling them. A spike of ecstasy flutters through my body at my own touch. I can feel my sex watering.
He jerks me feverishly as he inserts two fingers inside me, not creating the desired effect. But I oblige him nonetheless. I stretch for the condom on my vanity and rip it open with my teeth. He looks up from beneath me then grabs the condom and quickly rolls it on. He strokes his length and looks at me with a seductive smile.
“Are you ready for this?” Blonde Guy coaxes. He beats his length on his leg twice then approaches me with hungered intent.
Sinking into me, I squeal at first contact, still sore from earlier. He moves slowly inside me to try to loosen me up. His body in my arms feels warm. I run my hands up and down his back, feeling every dip and curve of his muscles. His body flexes and shivers atop mine as I trail my fingers down the center of his back.
“Harder,” I order him. This propels him and he rises from me and begins pounding my opening. “Ah, yes. That’s it.”
“Ugh,” he grunts. “You like that don’t you? Oh, I just love how your pussy feels.” It's obvious he is a talker; a little annoying with all the talking, though, so I try to picture som
ething else as he pounds me.
Ben. Yes, Ben. I close my eyes and I see him on top of me. Arching my back as sensation pulsates through me, I become wild with passion.
“Ah!” I moan, meeting Blonde Guy’s thrusts with equal force. I tighten the grip of my sex around his dick causing him to flinch.
“Fuck,” he groans, clasping my legs to his chest. “You’re so bad. You want me to come don’t you? Do that again.”
I clutch him again and his lips part and his eyes cross, looking absolutely retarded. I stifle a laugh and close my eyes trying to recapture a picture of Ben.
I picture Ben grinding inside me, stroke after stroke, touching my sweet spot. And with that image, I’m gone, shattering into an orgasm.
“Oh, yeah. I love the way you come. I’m right behind you,” he growls.
Increasing his pace, he batters into me repeatedly. With one hard, final thrust he bellows loudly into his climax, his body shaking and twitching as he empties himself.
He sprawls out beside me breathing like he’s just run the Philadelphia marathon.
“How was that?” he breathes.
“Um, I enjoyed it. You made me come,” I answer the best way I can without hurting his feelings.
“I knew I could make you come,” he brags. He slips the condom off and ties it. “Could you throw this away?”
I stare at the used condom he holds over my face. How rude. Asshole. I take the condom and wrap it in tissue paper that I keep in my bedside drawer and I throw it in the waste basket.
“Do you want something from the kitchen?” I ask him as I wrap myself in my red silk robe.
“No, I’m ok,” he responds, snuggling into one of my fluffy pillows.
I make my way to the kitchen. I hear Rachel screaming yes and I smile, happy she is getting her rocks off. This doesn’t happen often, so when it does, usually the guy is or becomes her steady boyfriend. Let’s see if this guy makes the cut.
I open the fridge and pull out a cold bottle of Sam Adams. Drinking it, I go over to the window and stare out at the lights over Philly. I exhale and reminisce on the Manhattan lights. I really do miss home. But I can’t go back. Not right now. I shrug off the memories and head into my room.
Blonde Guy is snoring, sprawled out naked on my bed. I am so not sleeping there.
From the closet I take out a blanket and extra pillows. By the time I head back to the living room, Rachel and her guy are quiet. I lay on the chaise, pulling the blanket up to my chin and staring outside at the lights until I slip into an eventual slumber.
CHAPTER 5
I wake drenched in sweat. I had another one of those dreams. I was a little girl again and sweaty men held me down. I fought, even tried to scream, but there was no sound. Then, there was darkness. But a tall figure, like light at the end of a dark tunnel, stood shining bright, and it was enough to drag me out of my nightmare.
Taking up my BlackBerry, I look at the time, 3:29a.m. I groan, hating to wake up before I’ve gotten my seven hours of sleep. I slip from under the covers, knowing what can put me to sleep. As I stand, I hear Rachel’s bedroom door open and Mr. Dark and Mysterious emerges. I stop, just taking him in. He is very handsome, but something doesn’t sit right with me.
“Yeah,” he whispers, still holding onto the doorknob. I think he’s talking to me when I see him adjust the phone to his ear.
“I’m out,” he says tersely.
I slink back into the darkness just to listen in on his conversation.
“Look, we have to be careful about all of this, be patient. I’d give it about two weeks to all come together,” he continues to say.
“Mase, for fuck’s sake, just be patient or you’re gonna fuck it all up. She’s yours. I gotta go.” He hangs up on this Mase person and takes a deep breath, gripping the bridge of his nose before releasing the pent up breath and stepping back inside Rachel’s room
My hackles rise immediately, sensing something terribly off about this guy. If he thinks he’s going to hurt my best friend, though, he has another guess coming. I’ll let her have her fun, but he is officially on my watch list.
Feeling the pang returning in my groin, I head to my bedroom and strip out of the robe I’m wearing. Blonde Guy is still snoring so I straddle his naked body and begin to stroke his limp cock. Like clockwork, he begins to harden in my hands. He groans in his sleep and fidgets. I see he’s fighting to get up. His eyes slice open in shock as I take him into my mouth.
“What are you doing?” he whispers easing further into my mouth as he holds my head in place.
“Ahh,” he groans as I sink his dick to the back of my throat.
Reaching inside my underwear drawer and without shifting my position, I fish out a condom. I swirl my tongue around him, slurping along his length. I suck my cheeks in and apply the pressure as I glide down his shaft.
“Fuck. You’re so good at this,” he hisses, raising his hips to meet my ministrations. “I’m coming.”
I widen my eyes. You are not coming without satisfying me! I rise from him, opening the condom.
“No, don’t stop,” he begs. “Shit.”
Rolling the condom onto him, I tug him gently then slap his swollen scrotum.
“Yes,” he hisses.
Slapping him again, he lets out a tortured moan. This guy.
I ease my tight center over his hardened length and watch his mouth drop open. Oh, I so own you Blonde Guy.
“Jesus,” he cries, thrusting inside me.
I rotate my hips and grind down on him, touching that sensitive spot inside me. I begin grinding deeper and harder knowing this will get me to that desired plateau.
“I’m coming!” Blonde Guy shouts, shuddering and holding me in place. You have got to be shitting me. Blonde Guy lifts me off him and frees himself from the condom. Tying it, he once again hands it to me.
“Thank you. You drive me wild. You’re such a pro,” he compliments, patting my head like I’m a child and he’s off to sleep. What the fuck?
I throw the condom in the waste basket and search for my dildo. Jerry won’t disappoint. Yes, I name my dildo. Weird, I know.
I lay on the chaise spreading my legs, hoisting one leg on the window ledge. Jerry whirs to life and I slip it into my mouth to lubricate it. As I suck on the dildo I start twisting my nipples, sending signals throughout my body. My nipples elongate with every tug and now I really want to get off.
I close my eyes and all I see are Ben’s eyes as I slip Jerry inside me. Teasing my nipples, and working the vibrator inside me as it stimulates my clit sends shockwaves through my body. I’m not far off, I know it. As I picture Ben slamming inside me, I call his name quietly while I quake with a quick orgasm. Now I can sleep comfortably.
I wake up before anyone does. It’s 8:15 when I get up and start the morning by making a pot of tea. Rachel and I always start our Sundays with tea and cheese and crackers. As I busy myself in the kitchen, Blonde Guy appears putting on his shirt.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he says brightly. He really needs to leave. Now.
“Good morning.”
“You making breakfast?” He sits at the table, resting his chin in his palms.
I stare at him and sigh. Time to let him down easy. “Look…we had a wild time last night, you were great,” I lie. “But the night is over and it’s morning. You gotta go.” Way to let him down easy.
Blonde Guy looks at me with utter shock. He then scowls at me and shifts angrily from the island. Grabbing his jacket, he curses, “You’re a real piece of fucking work, you know that?”
He flies the door open and just before he slams it, lays the final “insult”, “Bitch.”
I shrug my shoulders as he slams the door and resume making tea. Rachel finally emerges.
“What’s with the slamming door?” she asks hoarsely.
“Blonde Guy just left.”
“Blonde Guy?” she pauses, trying to process what I’d said. “Ohh, Blonde Guy. Ok. Kicked him out?”
&
nbsp; “He overstayed his welcome,” I defend. “Dark and Mysterious still asleep?”
“Yeah. I knocked him out,” she brags, hugging herself.
“Oh, honey. He’s amazing!” she gushes, spinning and landing in the black couch. Looking up from it she speaks, “I think I like him.”
“Rae, you don’t even know him.” I gawk at her. After overhearing that conversation, I really think she needs to step back a little.
“We talked a lot last night. We like a lot of the same things. He’s gonna take me for a Sunday drive to see the Pennsylvania countryside today,” she tells me.
“Today? Babe, don’t you think you should get to know him first before taking trips with him?” I try to reason.
“Can’t I just have fun this once? Just go with the flow like you do and not have to worry about defining anything?” She stares at me with pleading eyes and I feel bad. She just wants to live, she just wants to have fun, who am I to stop that? I just don’t want my girl hurt.
“But Sunday’s our PJs and romantic comedy lounging day,” I remind her, feeling a little sad.
“Honey, we can miss one Sunday. Come on, please?” she begs, batting her long lashes. “Pwitty pwease?” She clasps her palms under her chin and continues batting those long lashes. I can’t turn down that pathetic face of hers.
“Ugh, you know I can’t turn down that pathetic face of yours when you start begging. I hate you,” I give in. “You’re gonna have to make it up to me, you know?”
“Oh, definitely.” She jumps up and runs toward me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She throws her arms around me and kisses my cheek repeatedly. “I’ll definitely make it up to you.”
“You owe me big time, Rae,” I tell her, a little bummed that she was gonna leave me alone. “And hey, no matter what, I love you and support you, okay? And I will protect you always.” I mean every word.
“I know, babe, I know,” she agrees, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing me. “I’m gonna go wake Dark and Mysterious. His name is Ryan by the way, Ryan Baylor.” She skips to her room.
Tainted Love (Book 1) Page 4