Well, Carson did say he wanted to get to know the real me, didn’t he? I think with a nervous smile. I suppose he’s just gonna have to meet my family a little sooner than expected …
I pull out my phone and send a message to Carson:
Change of plan. We’ll have to do dinner some other time (sorry!). But how do you feel about going to see New York’s hottest new band? x
I look again at my dress, my hair all tied up in a ponytail, and my heels. It might have been okay for a romantic date in a small restaurant but I certainly don’t look like I’m about to go to a rock show …
But then if I pull out my hair, mess it up and slip on my battered old Vans instead?
Actually, this look kind of works!
§
“ID please,” the gruff, burly bouncer on the door to the Mercury Lounge asks me.
It’s one of those things I’m still finding it hard to get used to over here — back in England, I’d be kind of flattered to still be asked my age!
I show him my passport, he nods, and then I head inside. I find Jonathan at the bar, and he’s already bought us both bottles of beer.
“I love your look!” he grins as I approach, handing me my beer. “ Preppy meets punk. You’re so good at putting clothes together!”
“Actually?” I say, taking a swig. “This one was kind of an accident.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“Well,” I sigh. “Please don’t hate me but I kind of messed up this evening. You see I’ve accidentally kind of double booked, so I’m dressed for a restaurant. You see there’s this guy …”
“I knew it,” he interrupts, his grin getting wider and his eyes widening in a tell me everything expression. “It’s him isn’t it?! I’m so glad you found him again!”
“What can I say?” I shrug. “After we spoke I was so scared I’d blown it with him. I had no way of getting in touch with him but I supposed you could say that fate brought us back together again … I just had to see him tonight but I didn’t want to let you down either.”
“So basically you’re asking, do I mind playing third wheel for you tonight, Honey?”
Just like Jonathan, I think. Always cutting straight to the chase.
“I guess so?” I reply sheepishly.
“Absolutely not!” he laughs. “In fact, I’d be delighted. I’d love to meet this guy. He must be something pretty special.”
“I think he is actually,” I agree.
And I guess a part of me is kind of excited for Carson and Jonathan to meet. I mean, I know they’re totally different, but they’re both really nice guys, and I think Jonathan is a really good judge of character too, so I’d like to see how they get on …
§
We’re standing at the back of the room, waiting for Circles, the headline band, to come on, when I see him. Carson. And as always, my heart skips a beat.
He’s dressed kind of cool and sharp — but alternative, too — and he totally fits in here. As he gets a little closer, I can tell by the cut of the suit he’s wearing that it’s vintage; I’m impressed.
“Nice suit,” I say as he takes his place next to us.
“Well,” he laughs, “I realised that if we’re gonna be seeing more of each other, I’d better pay attention to what I wear. I thought you’d appreciate this old number.”
He leans in to kiss me, then turns to shake Jonathan’s hand.
“Jonathan, this is Carson,” I say, still getting a tiny thrill whenever I say his name out loud, “and Carson, this is my cousin, Jonathan.”
I have to stifle a smile when I notice the flash of excitement in Jonathan’s eye — he obviously thinks Carson’s hot, too.
And if he noticed Jonathan’s expression, he tactfully ignores it. “I’m going to the bar,” he says, “can I get you guys some drinks?”
“Sure,” I reply, and Jonathan nods and smiles too.
Once Carson’s left us alone again, Jonathan leans in and whispers in my ear, “Good grief, girl! Where did you get one of those? Because I want one! He’s gorgeous.”
I laugh and nod.
And I have to admit, I’m really pleased at how warm and easy and fun this all is — how my life actually seems to be shaping up okay, out here in New York.
Carson comes back with our drinks, just as the main band take to the stage. The lights dim and the crowd clap and for a moment everything falls into darkness.
Then a drumbeat, low, insistent, steady, like the beat of my heart whenever Carson is nearby.
The lights flash, illuminating the drummer, there in the very centre of the stage, a picture of cool: amazing tattoos, jet black hair cut in an asymmetric bob, her face lost in concentration as she pounds out the beat.
Then two more lights flash on at either side, lighting up the two guitarists, both gorgeous girls with ice-white hair. As they start to play, I feel my stomach lurch with excitement.
Wow, these guys are good.
And as I watch them, transfixed, it takes me a moment before I realize that Carson has slipped his hand into mine — or maybe I slipped mine into his?
Either way, I give his warm hand a little squeeze and he does the same right back.
§
After the show, we’re all buzzing with excitement, and Jonathan suggests a nightcap at a nearby bar called No Fun. We pile into a booth, laughing and joking, and I can’t help but think that tonight is going even better than I could have hoped.
Carson seems totally relaxed too.
Right now he’s telling us a funny anecdote about his college roommate, a guy called Dave who was so tidy, he even ironed his socks.
And as I listen to him talk, I realise now that my only real problem is that I wish I had him alone. I feel bad about this, I mean I definitely don’t want to bail on Jonathan, but at the same time, it feels like it’s been forever since it was just Carson and me.
“You think that’s crazy?” Jonathan cuts in as Carson comes to the close of his anecdote. “You should have met Melissa here when she was growing up! She used to ask to do the vacuuming at my parents house when she came over! She used to enjoy it!”
I feel myself blushing, and I shoot daggers with my eyes at Jonathan but he just won’t quit until Carson’s laughing his head off at the image of twelve year old me, running a vacuum cleaner around for enjoyment.
“Shut up!” I exclaim. “Let’s just pretend I was always this cool and sophisticated. Unless you want me to tell Carson all about your My Little Pony collection.”
Carson laughs. “No! I’m enjoying this! I want to know all about you, Melissa! Even as a child. And for what it’s worth, I was an enormous geek, too.”
And as Jonathan continues on with a long involved anecdote — turns out he’s actually pretty happy to talk about his My Little Pony collection — I feel Carson’s foot brushing against my own, our eyes lock across the table, and I realise that he probably wants to be alone with me just as much as I do with him.
But despite this, Jonathan seems totally happy and content here at the table. I find myself willing him just to even go to the bathroom for a minute, so that I can steal a quick kiss from Carson, but no luck. He just won’t seem to leave us alone, not for a single second.
I know what to do.
I could just say something — suggest that Carson and I are gonna head back to his together. But can I bring myself to be so forward, to say something like that in front of my cousin? And anyway, what if I got it wrong? What if Carson isn’t expecting me to come back to mine tonight …
But my doubts are obliterated when I feel his foot rubbing against mine again, and his fingers brushing the soft flesh of my thigh.
No, we’re both totally on the same page here. It’s like we’re reading each other’s minds.
I’m desperately trying to think of a way of being alone with Carson now. I mean, I guess we could just stay out drinking, and hope that Jonathan has to go soon, but at the same time, I already feel like I’ve had more than my fair s
hare of alcohol. I’ve never been a big drinker at the best of times, and I’m already onto my fourth beer …
Okay, I decide, I’m gonna tell everyone I’m going home, and then, once we’ve all said goodbye and got in our own cabs, I can call Carson and meet up with him.
So, I do the biggest fake yawn I can muster.
“I’m beat,” I explain. “I’ve had a long day, and I guess I need to go to bed.”
As I say it, I notice that Carson looks a little disappointed.
Damn, I think, perhaps he can’t read my mind after all! But don’t worry, I’ll call him as soon as I get in a cab on my own.
“Hey Melissa,” Jonathan says. “My place is on the way to yours’ right? Let’s share a taxi!”
Oh no! I haven’t thought this through, have I?! This isn’t going quite how I planned!
We all settle up and head out onto the street. It’s still kind of warm, and I have the sudden sad feeling that maybe the night really is over and once again, I’ve not had any time alone with Carson.
“Okay then,” I say, catching his eye, suddenly feeling kind of awkward, too shy to even give him a proper kiss goodbye in front of Jonathan.
“Okay then,” he replies, seemingly overcome by the exact same awkwardness.
He leans in, and instead of kissing we do this weird awkward hug thing, and then finally I give him a squeeze and a quick kiss on the cheek, all the while feeling Jonathan watching on, a big grin on his face.
“Great to meet you, Jonathan,” Carson says warmly and the two shake hands and give each other a hug too.
Then, before I know it, Jonathan has flagged down a taxi and I’m climbing into it, every atom in my body screaming at me to just run back, into Carson’s arms.
What am I doing?!
And as I slump down into the seat and put on my seatbelt, I feel like I just can’t hide my disappointment anymore, my face falling, not wanting to turn around and wave him goodbye in case I actually do something stupid and soppy like actually start crying.
“Hey,” Jonathan says, resting a reassuring hand on mine, “What’s wrong darling? Haven’t you had a good night?”
“No, no!” I say. “It was great. I just … I don’t know.”
I just can’t seem to say it.
“Am I gonna have to spell this out to you?” Jonathan replies with a smile.
“What?!” I ask, confused.
“If you don’t get out of this cab right now and go home with that boy, young lady, then you’ve not been listening to a word of my advice!”
We both laugh and I feel my heart leaping with excitement. He’s right — again.
“Thanks Jonathan,” I say, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Then I hurriedly unbuckle my seatbelt, jump out of the cab, and wave him off, watching it speed off into the night, leaving me there on the curb.
I turn around. I’m alone in the street.
Where is he?
I start to run, turning the corner in what I hope to God is the direction of his apartment, and sure enough, I see him just a half-block away.
“Carson!” I call as I run.
He stops and turns, his puzzlement quickly becoming a wide excited grin as he realises who it is, racing towards him down the empty street.
And as I reach him, I do what I’ve been wanting to do for so long now, throwing myself into his arms and kissing him as if my life depended on it.
“You know what?” I say with a big grin between kisses, “Actually, I don’t think I’m that tired anymore!”
§
Girl After Dark: Back to Yours
Your apartment is stylish and elegant — just as stylish as you — but admiring the decor is the very last thing on my mind right now.
We’ve hardly made it through the door before we’re kissing again, both of us wanting the same thing, our bodies crying out for each other, our mouths gasping, our kisses hot and breathy.
You push me up against the wall, pressing yourself against me, and I can feel it straight away: the hardness between your thighs that tells me you need this just as much as I do right now.
Your hands are all over me: pawing my breasts, cupping my ass, and of course slipping between my legs.
At first you work me gently through the lace of my knickers and then, a moment later, I gasp as you urgently tug them downwards, right around my thighs. I only just about have time to step out of them before you’ve found your way between my legs, parting them with your hands, dropping to your knees now, your head nuzzling my sex, your tongue lapping at me, sending shudders of electric pleasure straight through me.
I push my fingers through your hair as I moan, urging you on, shivering and gasping as you tongue my clit, just the way I like it.
And when you stand up to kiss me, I taste myself on your lips, and we both smile, our eyes locking for a moment.
Then another surprise: I gasp as you pick me up in your arms, so easily that I feel like a doll as you carry me through to your bedroom and lay me down on top of the soft, sumptuous white sheets of your bed.
“No, let me do that,” you say as I push myself up to unzip my dress.
So I lay back down again, savoring the sheer slowness with which you undress me, unwrapping me – just like in my fantasy, uncovering first my shoulders, then my breasts, only the flimsy lace cups of my bra shielding them from view. But soon, you’ve taken that off too, and I find myself blushing.
“They’re too small,” I say, apologetically.
“No,” you murmur in between kisses, your lips teasing my nipples now, your tongue coaxing them into hard, pink little points. “They’re perfect.”
I’m trying to undress you, too, but all your focus is on me. Soon I’m naked, and once more you’re down there between my legs, this time working me quickly towards the very edge of pleasure, my fingers once again in your hair as I clamp my legs tight around you, the way you kiss me there so perfect, somehow forceful yet delicate, my body responding powerfully to everything you do. And sure enough, before I know it, I’m coming, arching my back, my eyes tightly closed, a long, low moan escaping my lips.
You bring yourself back up to kiss me, my honey once more on your lips, and finally I manage to unbuckle your pants, too, stroking your hot hard shaft, wanting to feel it in my mouth.
So I push you onto your back, working my kisses downwards, sighing as I take you finally between my lips, sucking you feverishly, as if I’m taken over by some primal force, stroking your shaft, massaging your balls, feeling you throb against my tongue in response.
I pull my head up with a gasp, locking eyes with you once more as I climb up and over you now, my hands on your broad shoulders as I straddle you, guiding myself back onto you, shuddering again as I feel your hot hands cup my buttocks, and then your thick hardness stretching me wide.
I stifle my moan with a kiss, my tongue in your mouth as you fill me right up, your hands on my ass, holding me in place as you fuck me, harder and harder, until I’m coming — again — and this time you do too, both of us shivering and gasping as I feel you pulse inside me, our bodies trembling and our hearts beating as one.
I lie back on my bed, lost in thought.
I know I said I was done with my blog, but the readers really loved my last post - the fantasy - and again they were hungry for more, and our night together in Carson’s apartment was so hot, I just knew they’d love that, too.
So I guess what I meant was that I was done with sleeping around. I’m really passionate about my writing and I want to continue. Carson knows both those things, doesn’t he? I mean, it doesn’t matter that I’m still writing my blog, if I’m writing about him, does it?
Anyway, if anything, he should be flattered!
After all, I’ve just written about how great he is — in both fantasy and reality. And only he knows the difference between the two …
Also, I worked really hard at keeping his identity a secret. I purposefully didn’t describe his apartment — which was completel
y amazing by the way.
All of the stuff he’d been telling me about his family name, his stepmother, the family law firm … Well, I’d guessed that he might come from money. But even so, I wasn’t expecting anything quite like that.
His apartment was a penthouse in Manhattan - I’d never even been in one of those before. One whole corner was windows: two large glass walls looking out onto the city below. And a full grand piano, too. It was like something out of a movie set!
I didn’t even get around to asking him if he could actually play piano, but he seemed like the kind of person who had lots of hidden talents so I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out he was a concert-level pianist or something.
There was really amazing modern art on the walls, too, and lots of books in these gorgeous fitted bookcases that lined the walls: books on art and architecture, not to mention novels, history and law, even books on maths, there were just books everywhere you looked. I didn’t realise until then what a turn on it was to know that he was obviously really well read.
I was used to guys who didn’t give a thought to how their surroundings looked, but Carson’s apartment displayed his taste and his personality.
The whole night was perfect: romantic and lovely. And I’ve never been treated quite like that before by a guy. He’s so attentive.
Next morning, he had to go to work, but told me I could stay as long as I wanted and to make myself at home. In the end, I didn’t stay too long. It felt weird being there without him. But even so, I was amazed how much he trusted me too, so early on.
Just then, my thoughts are interrupted by the familiar Skype noise. Of course, it’s Wednesday. My weekly date with Katy!
I accept the call, grinning when I see Katy’s pretty, friendly face fill the screen of my Macbook.
“How’s London?” I ask her.
Girl After Dark Page 16