Belong

by NB Baker

  “Well, we could go back inside. We have coffee,” I suggest, giving him an excited smile. Realizing that we don’t even know each other names, I step over right in front of him, holding out my hand to shake his. “Hi, I’m Sarah Crawford.”

  Taking my hand in his hand, he lifts it up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on the back, sending tremors through my body. My mind spins like I’m on a tilt a whirl. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sarah Crawford. I’m Justin Troma.”

  His movements are swift and very gentlemen like as he opens the door and gestures for me to go in. I give him a small curtsy gesture, and he laughs, putting his hand at the small of my back, following close behind.

  “Mr. Troma, go ahead and grab yourself a seat and tell me your poison.”

  He scoots the bar stool out, making a loud screech as it moves across the floor. Then I hear him say, “You are.”

  I look back over my shoulder, and there’s that cute, sexy as fucking hell smirk again. That look could turn even a heart of stone to a pile of mushy goo.

  I don’t want him to think that he is going to get the upper hand with me, so before I walk away, I shoot him a seductive wink. “Yep, that’s me. Poison. I’m deadly, that’s for damn sure.”

  “Ahh, I see. Ya know, that’s the first thing that popped into my mind the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Really! You thought that I was deadly? What like black widow type or ninja type deadly?”

  “Nope, that this beautiful woman might just be the death of me type.”

  OK, he has to be screwing with me. I’m waiting for a camera crew to pop out and scream “You’re on the next episode of Deceived.”

  Maybe now would be a good time for me to change the direction of this conversation. There are only are two things that could happen if I don’t. One, I end up looking like a giant ass because he’s just dicking around with me. Two, I end up ripping his clothes off and fucking his brains out right here on the counter.

  “So, coffee work for you?”

  “Yep, coffee sounds great.”

  “So, Mr.” He cuts me off before another word comes out of my mouth.

  “Kitten, if you call me Mr. Troma one more time, I’m going to have to put you over my knee.”

  The mere thought of that sends me into a wet, throbbing frenzy. Holy shit, if he only knew all the things I would love to do to him right now, he would either run or fall in love.

  “Mr. Troma was my father. Call me Justin.”

  My mind immediately focuses on the word ‘was.' I wonder what the word ‘was’ means to him. Divorce, never around father, or does it mean the same as my definition of was? I don’t want to ruin whatever this is that we’re doing, so I bury my curiosity.

  Holding my hands up, I say, “Sorry, Justin. So, tell me about yourself.” Handing him a cup of coffee, I’m not sure what I should do now, so I stay standing on the other side of the counter.

  Pulling the stool out next to him, he says, “Why don’t you come on over here and have a seat, and I will tell you anything you want to know.”

  “Okay!” I know that came out like a pubescent teen. Now all I need to do is twirl my hair around my finger and giggle. Fuck, I really don’t give a shit. If he wants me next to him, that’s where I am going to be.

  Placing a hand on my knee, he gently turns me so that we face each other. “So, what do you want to know?”

  Looking at his beautiful face, I lose all concentration. “Umm…umm.” Pulling my head out of my ass, I start with the easy stuff. “Well, let’s start with where you’re from. How old are you? What do you do? Is there a Mrs. Justin? Are you a creeper? What do you do for fun?”

  He starts to laugh. “Kitten, if there were a Mrs. Justin I wouldn’t be sitting here with you. If I were a creeper, you’d never see my coming.”

  Oh, my God! A gorgeous man who has integrity. I haven’t seen this in a while. Not to mention he has a bit of a dark side.

  “That was quite a list of questions. Let’s see here, covered the married and creeper question which I’m guessing are the most important on your list. So that leaves me with, I’m twenty-seven. I was born and raised right here in the great mile high city of Denver. I have my own martial arts academy, well I’m a partner I should say. I teach classes and do some personal training. It’s a part of who I am, so I find it very fun. Oh yeah, I do like to step inside the octagon every so often. Now that’s a fucking rush! I haven’t done much of that since I blew out my knee though.”

  “Wait, you mean fighting? For fun? Getting into a cage and having the shit kicked out of you.” I repeat, “For fun.” Except for this time, I say it very slowly to be sure that he catches on that I’m insinuating that I think he’s fucking nuts.

  With a smug look on his face, he says, “Yep, for fun. But, I also did a little shit kicking too. Have you ever been to a fight?”

  “Nope, can’t say that I have. I’ve seen a few bar brawls, and frat boys duke it out. Those can be kind of entertaining.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing. It’s a rush like you’ve never experienced. I’ll have to take you to one someday.”

  My curiosity about this staggering, business owner, personal trainer, cage fighting man is enormous. I envision him coming out of a steel cage after a huge victory. Sweat's rolling down his bare muscular chest, as he’s sweeping me up in his arms, and crushing my body to his. Then passionately, he’s kissing me in front of everyone. All the women are green with envy that I call this incredible man mine.

  “What about the training? What’s that all about? Are you some kind of ninja? That would be super cool!” I do my best impression of a karate chop with my hands, knocking my coffee cup across the counter spilling the hot contents all over the counter.

  “Shit!”

  Justin jumps up and lets out a loud, unrestrained laugh. “No, Kitten. I’m not a ninja. But when it comes to dodging hot coffee I could be.”

  As we clean up my mess, he tells me more about his work as a trainer. He used to compete but was injured in a match that took out his knee. He tells me that he thought his days of practicing the arts were over.

  I can hear sadness in the tone of his voice. “It was my everything. It kept me from life that could have consumed me all to easily.”

  His entire demeanor changes when he starts talking about training students. He speaks with such conviction. There’s profound passion about everything he does running through this man.

  Once we get my mess cleaned up, Justin refills our cups, and I grab two chocolate éclairs from the cooler. Justin stands up, reaching across the counter, grabbing two forks. His shirt comes untucked from his jeans showing a part of his muscular back. From what I can see it is also inked. Not to even mention his incredibly perfect ass.

  Sitting back down, he ruins my perfect view. “Alright, now that we’ve covered Justin one ‘o one, I want to know more about this fiery redhead sitting here with me.”

  What? Fuck! I do not want to talk about me. What the fuck am I supposed to say? ‘Hi, I’m a fucking giant mess.’ Well, that would just about sum it up. It’s said that honesty is the best policy. No, I think I’ll just keep it as simple as possible, and maybe I can once again change the subject.

  I fidget with my coffee cup. “Me, oh there’s not much. I work, sleep, eat. You know just your typical stuff.”

  He takes the cup from my hands. “Kitten, you’re not getting off that easy. Tell me about you. What do you like to do besides break hearts?”

  I have to chuckle. “Boy, you’ve got some really good ones tonight. Yep, ‘Heartbreaker’ that’s me. Did you know there’s even a song titled after me? It’s quite catchy. In fact, I think it might even still be on the jukebox. I’ll go check.” I stand up, and Justin puts his hands around my waist pulling me closer to him.

  “Nope, you’re going to sit down and tell me about yourself.”

  Letting out a long sigh, I take my seat. I’m not sure if I’m more i
rritated about having to talk about myself or having to leave his arms when I take my seat. I would be elated to stay right here in his arms. “Fine, what do you want to know?”

  Rubbing the scruff on his chin like he’s thinking real hard, he says, “Hmm, what do I want to know? Let’s start with how old are you. Where are you from? I already know what you do. How about what do you like to do for fun? Is there a Mr. Sarah? Are you a creeper? And do you drink anything besides coffee?”

  He emphasized the word you every time he said it. He turns so that he’s looking right at me. Like he’s really interested in what I’m about to say. I feel a little on the spot, but it’s also a little refreshing to have someone interested in what I have to say. Not just what I have between my legs, or what I can do for them.

  Leaning forward, I tell him, “Well, I’m twenty-one. I too was born and raised here in Denver. I want to leave someday, but right now I just can’t seem to do it. There are just too many ties that I’m not ready to break.”

  I stop think about the order in which he asked his questions. Even though they were pretty much the same as mine, which I thought was funny.

  “Fun, what do I like to do for fun? I love to read. It’s a wonderful escape from reality. No, there’s no Mr. Sarah. Yes, I am a creeper. Finally, no, I really don’t drink much other than coffee. It is a food group, ya know? No matter what those crazy ass people who haven’t experienced its love say.”

  Just then Leila and Oscar come out of the back room. Leila’s digging through her purse and pulls her keys out. “Kid’s as much as we hate to we’re going to take off. We just can’t hang out here all night with you.”

  Tossing the keys to me, she says to us, “Stay as long as you’d like. Just make sure to turn off the lights and lock up behind you.” Before she walks out the door, she blows me a kiss. “Make good choices.”

  Justin and I sit and talk for hours about anything, everything, and nothing. It’s refreshing, liberating, and straight up fun. I haven’t felt this free from all the crap in my life in so long. The feeling is so foreign to me, but I love it! I feel like a different person. Well, like an old me. An old me that I was certain was dead. But on a totally different level, a greater more powerful level. It is mind blowing that this amazing person who I just met and barely know could be my savior. Could he really be able to pull me out of this hell hole that is my world?

  I try to hide the yawn that has been threating to come out for a while. I see Justin look at his watch. “Shit, Kitten. It’s three. I had better get you home.”

  I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here in this moment. This fantastic, unbelievable, revitalizing moment.

  Lifting my eyebrows, I agree with him sarcastically, “Yeah, I suppose I should get some sleep. I’ve got a big day of doing nothing tomorrow.”

  Justin takes his coat from the back of the chair. “Well, then we’d better get going. I wouldn’t want you to be late for that.” He winks.

  We walk together over to the door and I hold it open for him as he steps outside. He turns around and gets a bewildered look on his face. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “No, I think I’ll just crash here tonight. Or this morning, however you want to look at it.”

  The bewildered look doesn’t leave his face. “What are you going to do snuggle into a booth and use a table cloth for a blanket?”

  “Yeah, smartass. That’s what I’m going to do. No! There’s a loft upstairs with everything I need. There’s a futon, TV, and shower. Pretty much an excellent place to crash every time I don’t want to go home. Leila lets me stay there whenever I want. Since the diner’s closed tomorrow, why not?”

  Justin leans in and gives me a kiss on the forehead. “You going to be alright here by yourself?”

  “Oh, yeah. I do it all the time.”

  Hesitant, he says, “Alright, just be sure to lock up right behind me.”

  Wow. This is so freaking adorable. He's protective of me. Or he’s just seen what’s out wondering around here at three in the morning and doesn’t want to be known as the last person who saw the missing girl.

  As I’m preparing to barricade myself in, he turns around and puts his foot in the doorway, preventing me from shutting it. Raising my eyes to meet his, he appears unsure about what he’s going to say. “I hope this isn’t too forward.” He runs his hand along the edge of the door. “I’m having a great time with you. I just don’t want it to end. Do you think Leila would lacerate my manhood if I stayed with you? I mean, that’s if you want me to.”

  Holy fucking shit balls! Did he really just say that? He doesn’t want time with me to end. Keeping as calm as I possibly can, I turn my head with a questioning look on my face. “You’re not a creeper, right? I have no reason to be in fear for my life?”

  He draws a cross with his finger across his heart. “Cross my heart.”

  I know that my face is red, and I’m acting way too excited, but I really don’t give a fuck. This person for some unknown reason makes me feel…alive. There’s this energy that flows through my veins when he’s near me. He’s a drug that after only one taste, I’m utterly and totally addicted to him. I must have him to survive. The craving for him is stronger than my urge to self-destruct.

  “I’d like that. However, I can’t make any promises on what Leila will or will not lacerate. I try and keep my nose out of that line of her business.”

  With a sly look on his face, he says, “I’ll take my chances.”

  I lead us up a narrow staircase that’s right behind the double doors of the restaurant. His steps are in unison with mine as he rests his hands on my hips. The room is small but big enough to serve its purpose. I open the closet, taking out a bag and toss in onto the futon. It has all the necessities a surprise overnight stay would need. However, it’s never a surprise that I end up here. I like to stay a night or two until I can pretend that everything at home will be alright. Or the fear of being away too long overwhelms me. I have found out that the longer I stay away from home, the worse the backlash is, much worse. Which I don’t understand at all. My father can’t stand the sight of me, yet if I’m not there, he’s even more brutal when I return. It’s like he can unleash all the evil demons that consume him upon me, and I’m a sponge meant to absorb it all. Maybe it’s because if I’m there, then he can blame me instead of himself for what he’s done to his… our lives.

  Regardless, tonight, it’s just Justin and me. No physical or mental outside interference allowed, not tonight. I’m going to enjoy this for as long as it might possibly last.

  I take my things into the bathroom, change into my pajamas, pull my hair back, and brush my teeth. When I get back to the living area, Justin’s standing here in nothing but his boxers. Muscles ripple through his back as he pulls out the futon. The tattoos that sleeve his arms stretch across his wide shoulders and work their way down his sides to his narrow waist. His legs are lean and just as muscular as his back. And that ass! Holy fucking bat shit. That is by far the most perfect ass I have ever laid eyes on.

  The throbbing between my legs refuses to be ignored, and my nipples tighten as I stand here watching him. I shift my legs back and forth trying to calm the urge to go over and shove him onto the bed and quench the undeniable desire I have for him right now. He turns around, and I know that I’m busted, but once again I don’t care. He lets out a low toned laugh as he walks toward me.

  He kisses me on the top of the head. “Maybe I’m the one who should be in fear for my life.”

  He goes into the bathroom without latching the door. It slowly creaks open just enough that I can see movement, but I can’t tell what he’s doing for sure. I hear him start to pee. Well, now that’s something that when I got up this morning I never thought I would be hearing.

  I call out, “Ya know, you can shut the door. I can’t see anything anyway. Not that I haven’t tried.” The last part I say more under my breath.

  The toilet flushes then the water in the sink turns on. A few minutes later,
Justin comes out.

  In a sarcastic voice, I say, “A hand washer, now that is a very good quality.”

  The futon creaks and cracks at the impact of Justin’s weight as he leaps onto the bed. He reaches over and rubs his hands that happen to be very wet all over my face. “Oh, I wasn’t washing my hands I was using your toothbrush, and then I peed. I must have gotten a little on my hands.”

  “Eww, you sick bastard! Did you actually use my toothbrush?”

  “What? Are you really more worried about me using your toothbrush than me peeing on my hands and wiping it on you?”

  “Well, when you put it that way. Both are pretty sick, but if you were the type of person that would really wipe pee on someone I’d say there are more serious, deep-seated issues.” I grin.

  We are laying here with my back against his chest in silence. I can feel his chest rise and fall as his warm breath caresses my neck. He moves his hand and accidently brushes against my hard nipple. I begin to fantasize about him taking each one into his mouth. I feel him growing hard against my backside. I try to roll over to face him, and his grip around my waist tightens. I want him. If just being around him can make me feel this alive I can’t even begin to imagine what having that kind of connection with him would feel like. I start to squirm, trying to loosen his grip. His grip is that of a constrictor. The more I move, the tighter his hold becomes.

  With frustration laced in my voice, I ask, “Why won’t you let me face you?”

  “Because.”

  “Because isn’t an answer. Do you not want me?”

  He presses his rock hard cock into my back, making me take in a quick sharp breath. I feel his hands clench into fists. “Oh, I want you. That’s definitely not the case. But I just want to lay here with you. I want to breathe you in. I want to do this right. I want us, to be right. You deserve right. I feel…” He pauses as if he’s battling something within his own head. “I feel more of everything that is good when I’m with you. You wake up senses that I didn’t know were possible. I want what we are and what we might be, to be… more.”