Forget About It

by Jessie Harper

  The set of Graham’s shoulders makes Dave shrink back and I use this moment to escape. “I’m going to dance! Nice to meet you!” I yell over my shoulder as I sprint to where Stephanie and her friends are grinding up against a group of guys who don’t look old enough to have gotten into this bar. I avoid the potential jailbait and dance by myself. There are plenty of guys more than willing to bop along with me and I dance with a few of them. But I never stay with one for very long; I twirl away. If Graham wasn’t here watching from the bar, I’d be more aggressive. I did come here looking for a hook up. But I can feel him staring at me and every time I look his way he’s looking right back.

  Until he’s gone.

  I notice immediately and the frantic feeling that overcomes me catches me by surprise. Would he just leave? Without telling me? Without saying anything at all?

  Someone bumps into me from behind as I swivel around looking for Graham. I turn to apologize and end up with my face pressed tight against a rock-hard chest. I tilt my head up and find myself looking directly into Graham’s blue eyes. He smirks.

  “I thought you’d left,” I tell him, my voice giving away too much of the panic I was feeling earlier.

  “I’m not leaving you here,” he yells over the music. “This place is a meat market. What’re you doing here anyway?”

  I manage a shrug and a guilty look that has Graham scowling.

  “Aw, Cassie. Seriously?” He takes one look at the other guys on the dance floor and shakes his head. “That’s it. We’re leaving.”

  “I’m not leaving,” I protest. “I’m having a good time. I want to dance.”

  Graham shakes his head again. “You’re done dancing with the douchebags in here.” He surveys the crowd again. “No more dancing for you.”

  “Please?” Why am I begging Graham to let me stay? I’m a grown woman and he’s not the boss of me. Although from the way everyone else on the dance floor is giving us a wide berth he must look like he is.

  “Nope.”

  “Okay, I won’t dance with any more of these ‘douchebags.’” I make liberal use of the finger quotes. “But then you have to dance with me.” I don’t know why I suggest this but by the time my brain catches up with my mouth it’s too late. Graham stands in front of me and for the first time tonight he looks unsure. I give him a hard poke in between his pectoral muscles, resisting the urge to flatten my palm out and rub it over him.

  “I don’t know about that,” he stalls. “I’m not a great dancer.” This might be the truth but we both know his reluctance isn’t entirely about his two left feet.

  “I’m sure you’re fine. Don’t you guys do victory dances on the field and stuff?” It’s meant as a dig, but Graham can’t hear me. The music’s getting louder and I have to put my mouth against his ear to be heard.

  “What?” he yells and I know there’s only one way to keep him from hauling me over his shoulder and ending my evening.

  I just go back to dancing. Graham stands there, seemingly unable to figure out what to do next. I dance around him, taunting, hoping he’ll give in and start to move. His friends are doubled over at the bar watching us and when he sees them whipping out their phones and starting to record his humiliation, I get ready for him to stomp off. But he doesn’t. Instead he goes for it and I’m tipping my head back and laughing at the way he flails himself around.

  He’s right; he isn’t a great dancer. But what he lacks in talent he makes up for in effort. And I’m used to making up for less than talented partners so he ends up looking fine. I’m the one really doing all the work, which would be a great sexual joke except I’m refusing to think about Graham and sex. And I already know that he’s much better at fucking than dancing. Which I try to put out of my head.

  Unfortunately, Graham is exceptionally good at doing one thing: grinding. Which is making it harder and harder to keep from thinking about him naked. Because once we end up rubbing all over each other my brain takes a vacation from pretty much anything but the feeling of his body up against mine.

  Under the pulsing lights I start to forget about all the reasons fooling around with Graham is a bad idea. His hands feel like they belong on my hips, my arms seem to have found a home wrapped around his neck, and when he leans his face in close to mine I instinctively tilt my chin up and part my lips as if kissing him is the most normal thing in the world. But the second our lips touch I come back to reality. Graham isn’t for me. He can’t be and so I pull back. He furrows his brow, and he looks like a confused toddler as I shake my head and work my way out of his embrace.

  “Bathroom,” I manage to get out before I turn and run in what I’m hoping is the direction of the ladies’ room. I have to get away from Graham before I make another decision I’ll regret in the morning. I round the corner and move down the hall. A hand grabs my elbow. I turn to find myself staring up at a heavily breathing Graham under the harsh florescent lights.

  “What the hell was that?” he asks, face angrier than I’d like.

  “You kissed me!” I’m accusing him, hoping he’ll see the issue here and back down.

  Instead his nostrils flare and he moves in closer. “You kissed me back.” His hand comes to rest on the exposed skin of my upper arm. “Don’t pretend you didn’t.” He leans in, letting his lips graze my ear. “And you liked it.”

  I did like it.

  “We said it was a one-time thing. We decided. Which means no kissing, obviously.” I move to put some space between us but Graham’s having none of it. He keeps moving forward until I’m pressed against the wall. I can feel him breathing as he brackets my body with his arms, pinning me in.

  “I know what we said,” he tells me. “But that doesn’t change how you make me feel.”

  “How I make you feel?” I whisper, knowing I’m playing with fire. “How do I make you feel?”

  Graham doesn’t answer, he merely pushes closer to me and grinds his hips against mine. I can feel his erection between us, his breath against my neck. I put my hand on his chest, planning to push him off me, but when I feel the way his heart is beating against my palm I end up leaving my hand there, letting the warmth of his chest and the thumping of his heart hypnotize me. He drags his nose along my neck, nipping the edge of my jaw as he goes. By the time his mouth makes it to mine any resolve I might have had is gone.

  I lean into Graham’s kiss, letting him explore my mouth. He’s gentle and unhurried like we have all the time in the world. Like we aren’t in some sketchy hallway in the depths of this bar. Like we can be together without any consequences. He nips at my bottom lip and wraps his arms around me, pulling me toward him. When I slide my hand from his chest to the back of his neck, he responds with a growl, deepening the kiss and pulling me in even tighter. Heat licks through my body, every nerve humming.

  The sound of a door unlocking and swinging open has us breaking apart like two teenagers caught by the porch light. The poor woman lets out a surprised yelp followed by mumbled apologies as she scurries away. Graham moves to go right back to making out, apparently not giving a shit about the drawbacks of this location.

  “No, wait.” This time I refuse to let him distract me. “We can’t do this.”

  Graham lets out a groan of frustration, pulling his hands through his hair. “I know,” he says but doesn’t sound convinced. He looks at me and groans again. “The thing is, Cassie,” he starts, obviously conflicted. “The thing is, I know we shouldn’t, but I can’t stop thinking about you. About last time.” He seems almost embarrassed about it like he’s confessing something dark and terrible.

  “Me, neither,” I whisper, knowing this is the wrong answer here. I should tell him I’m not feeling anything, let him think it’s all one-sided. Then he’ll leave me alone and we can go back to being sworn enemies like we agreed. But he’s standing here looking like he could eat me up and instead of running away from the big bad wolf I find myself edging in closer. “One more time won’t hurt, will it?”

  8

&nbs
p; Graham

  It takes me two seconds to realize I’ve been given the green light. Cassie’s standing there licking her lips and waiting on me to make a move and I’m still dumbfounded that she might be okay with this. “What did you say?” I lower my lips dangerously close to her ear.

  Cassie doesn’t pull away, if anything she gets impossibly closer. “You heard me.” She runs one hand over my stomach down to the waistband of my pants. She leaves it there, tracing her fingers along the edge of my belt.

  “You’re on board for this?” I drag my mouth along the column of her neck, desperate to get my hands on more of her. If she says no, if she changes her mind, I’ll back off even if every cell in my body is telling me to do the opposite. I know what we’ve already decided and I can’t have the ambiguity from last time.

  “For sex?” Cassie asks, still sliding her hands around in the red zone. “Yes.”

  I don’t hesitate. I press her back to the wall and crush my lips to hers. I find the edge of her shirt and propel my hand over the expanse of smooth skin underneath. I palm her breast, my thumb zoning in on her nipple. Cassie groans into my mouth and one long leg wraps itself around my waist. I haul her against me, enjoying the friction against my cock but I know if I don’t get her out of this hallway and back to my bedroom I’m likely to come in my pants. I release her breast and Cassie protests, whining. Repositioning my hand over her ass I contemplate carrying her out of the bar. Even though I know that’ll be entirely too much of a scene I can’t think of any faster way to get her to the car.

  “Let’s go,” I mumble, my face still pressed tight against Cassie’s.

  “Go?” she asks, the confusion almost covering up the lust in her eyes.

  “Unless you want me to fuck you here.” I’m joking, but Cassie doesn’t blink. I pull my head back and watch as she scans the weird little hallway.

  “Well, not here,” she clarifies before sliding down my body like a firehouse pole. “But maybe in there.” She takes my hand and yanks me toward the unoccupied bathroom door.

  “In the bathroom?” She can’t be serious. She’d rather have sex in the bathroom of a bar than let me take her back to my place again. I shake my head. “No way. This is too public, Cassie.”

  “We’ve been in this hallway forever and no one else has come down here.” She’s right about that, but still, when she’d said yes I’d been picturing her spread out across my bed. I’d been imagining plenty of time to do the things I wanted to her.

  “We can’t go back to your house or to mine. That’d be too…” Cassie leaves me to fill in the blanks. Too planned. Too private. Too personal. As much as my dick is begging me to take her up on her offer, my brain can’t seem to accept it. Just sex? I’m pretty sure I can handle that even if it means ignoring all the reasons I should be keeping my hands to myself. We’ve already slept together and I can’t seem to shake the need to do it again. But here? Like this? Maybe not.

  Cassie senses my hesitation and slides back up against me, her hand palming me through the fabric of my pants. I congratulate myself on the decision not to wear jeans tonight. I can feel the warmth of Cassie’s hand as she gives me a squeeze and all the blood rushes from my brain. “You’re so hard,” she whispers and I somehow become impossibly harder, my cock threatening to punch through my zipper. “I don’t want to wait. I need you inside me now. Please?” I know I’m being played here. I know that Cassie’s relying on the fact that I’m so worked up I won’t be able to come up with a better plan, that I’ll give in and do what she wants. So it’s no surprise when my brain officially surrenders, letting Cassie lead me down the hall and into the bathroom where she locks the door behind us with a click.

  It’s a single stall—toilet and sink—and surprisingly clean. Why it’s tucked away like this I have no idea, but I’m hopeful that means no one is going to come knocking on the door. Once we’re inside Cassie’s all business, back to wrapping her arms around my neck and rubbing against me.

  “I wish I’d worn a skirt. That’d make this so much easier,” she tells me which lets me know this isn’t the first time Cassie’s done this. I wince at the thought of some other guy pounding her up against some other bathroom wall.

  But if she’d worn a skirt I’d probably already be inside her. At least this way I get to spend a few minutes peeling her out of some of her clothes. Because there’s the drawback I’ve just realized about this bathroom idea: I can’t really get Cassie naked. Which is maybe why she suggested it. A quickie in the bathroom scratches the itch, but means no breakfast, no sleepover, no second helpings. It means no strings and I’ve already agreed to it.

  Cassie’s working on the buckle of my belt when I cover her hand with mine. She’s used to being the alpha and it shows. But even if I’ve agreed to this location that doesn’t mean she’s running the show. Not by a long shot.

  I walk her back until her thighs hit the sink. She lets me lead her, running her hands to the back of my neck. Cassie’s not short, but I still have to lean over to find her mouth even in the heels she’s wearing. She goes for my belt again and I move just out of her reach. The noise she makes is one of disappointment and I have to give her a scolding tsk tsk. I know she’s thinking this should be fast, but even if I’m restricted to this spot, I’m not about to waste what could be my last time with Cassie on a wham, bam, thank you ma’am.

  “So impatient,” I chide as I kiss my way down the front of her. I slide my hands back under her shirt and give her tits the attention they deserve. At least I give them the attention I can give them here with Cassie still completely covered up. Her nipples strain through the fabric of her bra, the material so sheer that I can feel every inch of her through the lace. It kills me not to be able to yank her black top over her head, ditch the bra, and pull one of those hard little nubs into my mouth. She’s groaning as I run my hands over her, but this is nothing compared with what I’d do if we were somewhere more private.

  But I can improvise.

  I run my hands along the edges of her leather-clad hips. I am enjoying these pants but I’ll enjoy taking them off of her even more. I pepper kisses all along Cassie’s chest and stomach until I’m almost kneeling in front of her. She looks down at me and our eyes lock. I wait two breaths before I make a move to reach for the button and pop it open. She’s panting as I ease the zipper down and hook my thumbs in the waistband. I’m torturing us both, but I make myself take my time revealing Cassie’s creamy thighs inch by delicious inch.

  I take a second to appreciate the lacy black thong. It’s the only thing separating me from my final destination. I lean in close and feel Cassie shudder when I exhale. She does it again when I press closer and take the edge of her panties in my teeth. I pull, letting my nose trail along her slit. I finish the job with my hands and run my palms back up the front of her thighs to spread her wide. I can still hear the music from the club thumping through the walls, but that does nothing to muffle Cassie’s moan when I slide my tongue along her opening. Her knees buckle a bit before she steadies herself against the sink, throwing her head back as I devour her.

  Cassie writhes against my face, making these little whimpering noises that have my whole body going tight. I work her with my tongue, holding her still with my fingers splayed across her thighs. Not that she has anywhere to go with her ass firmly against the sink. I smile against her and ease first one finger in and then two, curling them just enough to hit a spot that makes her shudder. “Come on, Cassie,” I urge her as I continue my assault. She answers me with the sexiest little gasp right before I feel the muscles of her pussy start to clamp down on my fingers. She pulls at the short hair on the back of my neck as she rides out her orgasm.

  But I’m nowhere near done with her.

  I pull my mouth away. Her cry of disappointment is replaced with a grunt of understanding as I spin her around to face the mirror. I fumble with my belt buckle one handed, but manage to get myself organized without breaking contact. I run my hand down her back to her
hip, wishing we were skin to skin. The cold rush of air when I pull my other hand back to slap on a condom has me working hard to get back to Cassie and give myself some relief. I lean over her, my chest flat against her back, and position myself at her opening. “Hold on,” I warn her before I thrust forward.

  Once I’m inside her, it takes everything I’ve got not to just start hammering like crazy. I take a few deep breaths, inhaling the scent of Cassie’s hair and giving her time to adjust. She grinds against me and my eyes nearly roll back in my head she feels so good. “God, Cassie,” I groan into her ear. “I love fucking you.”

  Cassie turns her head and captures my mouth with hers. “Then fuck me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I start moving. I pump in and out, Cassie meeting me thrust for thrust. She grips the edge of the sink with white knuckles as I slam into her, groaning louder than I intend to but unable to make myself stop. The sound of our bodies slapping together echoes off the white walls. Anyone who comes even close to this bathroom is going to know exactly what we’re doing and neither of us seems to care. I move to cup Cassie’s breasts again and she arches into me, giving me better access. Cursing the layers still between us, I pull the cups of her lacy bra down so I can run my callused fingers over her. Cassie gives me an appreciative hmmm and squeezes her eyes shut. I look over her shoulder and watch myself fuck her, enjoying the way her mouth falls open and her head lolls to the side. Reaching forward to find her clit, I rub in circles as I slide in and out of her and watch as her face scrunches up. I can feel how close she is, making it harder and harder for me to keep myself from coming.

  “Open your eyes,” I tell her, my voice surprisingly gruff. Her eyes snap open and meet mine in the mirror. “I want you looking at me when you come.” She holds my gaze, her breathing shallow and uneven, and I watch her features change as I feel her body give in to mine. She slams back against me and lets out a groan that I accidentally answer with my own. And then we’re both coming, eyes locked together, bodies humming. “Like a fucking firecracker,” I mumble into her hair as I try to keep her close to me for a few seconds longer. Because Cassie is like a firecracker: beautiful and unexpected but sure to burn my hands if I hold her too long.