Seeking Nirvana

by V. L. Brock

  I pouted. “Yes, of course everything’s fine, why shouldn’t it be?”

  “Well, I told Liam I’d keep an eye out just in case you needed any help. I saw you last night with a strange man, and I didn’t see him leave until this morning.”

  Keeping tabs was she? I nodded once. “Ah, I see. Yes, Mrs. Steinbeck, everything is fine. I ran into a little trouble last night, the man you saw…” I trailed off, and even the old busy-body craned her head around, when a black and silver pick-up truck pulled into my driveway behind the Mercedes.

  Oh, fuck…great timing, Walker. Could this get any worse?

  He unfolded himself from the truck, a knapsack in hand. I gaped as he approached my steps in his black workpants covered with dust and paint, a tight white T-shirt that emphasized his muscles and his tattoos, and sandy-colored heavy boots. Fuck me, he was a fucking man’s man, and I was a sexually unsatisfied woman…you do the math.

  He flashed me a quizzical look which had me faintly, although desperately, shaking my head.

  “Mrs. Steinbeck, this is my…” I faltered as I thought on my feet. Think of something, Kady, “Cousin…” I glared at the man as he climbed my front steps with a deep frown scored in his brow. Now a name, think of a name, “Jack, this is my cousin, Jack. Jack, this is Mrs. Steinbeck, Liam has asked her to keep vigil.”

  He towered over her stumpy form. “Oh, nice to meet you, Mrs. Steinbeck,” he muttered, and offered her his hand. She looked down her nose less than impressed at the gesture, before gingerly accepting.

  She looked at me pointedly with a faux grin. “You never said anything about an Irish cousin, Kady.”

  “We…” I glanced at Walker, silently pleading for him to help me as he ran his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “’Aye, we were never really that close, but since the accident,” He shook his head and sucked in a purifying gasp. “We could have lost her, Mrs. Steinbeck, and I would never have forgiven myself, see.”

  She sniffed and bounced her football helmet of a hairdo up with the palm of her hand. “Yes, well, I will leave you be. Kady, my dear, if you need anything I am only a few paces away.” She glared at Walker as he stepped over the threshold, dropped his bag to the polished flooring and removed his boots.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Steinbeck. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  With an arched brow, she nodded, turned and sauntered down the front steps.

  I waited until she was safely down the flight of stairs before shutting the door. Exasperated, I pressed my back against the wood and tipped my head back. “I cannot believe Liam has got the nosey parker of next-door to keep a fucking eye on me.”

  “Never mind that, darlin’, Irish cousin?” His stupefied expression had me throwing my face into my hands as I succumbed to another bout of disbelieving giggles.

  “I was attempting to think on my feet,” I chuckled through my covering.

  Next thing I knew, a pair of warm, rough hands was encased around my own, lowering them from my face, and my giggles were replaced with silent weighted desire. My wet, practically naked body was pinned against the door. Water beads fell from the tips of my loose hair and trickled down my flesh, leaving my skin raised with goose bumps as Walker’s warm breath fused with the moisture. I peeked up under my lashes. If it wasn’t for his body pinning me to the door, his intense stare alone, would have. Unable to stop my chest from heaving, my breathing caught, and my body trembled, while nerve endings screamed in torturous delight at his proximity. He was so rugged and dirty in his work clothes, he smelled musky, masculine––it was so different from Liam’s immaculate getup, and was such a heady combination.

  My fingers stirred against his calloused hands and I unconsciously licked my lips as he dashed his tongue across his.

  “The um…” I forced a swallow, my lips twitched as I fought my body’s response toward him. “The showers free,” I eventually gasped.

  He dipped his head, his eyes remaining boring into me. My legs lost the will to bear my weight any longer, and soon, the small of my back was subtly slipping down the polished surface of the front door.

  My voice was scarcely a whisper as his fingers moved lightly against my own. “There’s…um…” I swear my heart was going to bruise with the assault it was burdening on my ribs. Unabashed I halted my words and drew in a lungful of air through my nose and released it from my mouth as I regained my composure, or lack of it. “There are towels on the side in the bathroom. You’ll find everything you need. If you can’t then just call.”

  A smile kissed his pale, molded lips, his eyes darkened as he freed my hands, yet his body moved in closer. I felt the heat under his T-shirt. Each heave of my chest was about an inch away from making contact with his torso. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, Kady. Get yourself dressed.”

  Relief got the best of me as he pulled away and turned around. I raptly observed how his black workpants tightened over his ass as he bent down to collect his knapsack, how his muscles and shoulders worked as he flipped the bag over his shoulder, how each step he graced induced my aching hunger as his shoulder blades and hips worked and flexed.

  In less than five minutes, he was going to be in my shower, all wet and naked while I was in the next room.

  Fuck!

  Hanging my head in defeat, I sluggishly made my way up behind him while focusing raptly on trying to recite the alphabet backwards.

  While he was in the shower, I dried my hair and let it fall to my shoulders in a wild, shaggy mess. I always preferred it that way, it showed off my layers and with my heavy eye makeup, it always worked in my favor.

  I was just about to step out from the closet in my dark skinny jeans, a mint green silk blouse and matching green heeled pumps, when Walker surfaced from the bathroom. He was strolling to the end of the bed, his dark jeans resting low on his hips. Against the doorway of the closet, I rested my shoulder, completely entranced by the panther tattoo prowling down the length of his golden back. I blatantly stared as he shoved his arms through the sleeves of a black T-shirt, the panther moving and writhing as his muscles and shoulder blades shifted.

  “Nice tattoo,” I finally managed to find my voice.

  Silently cursing to the cosmos as he straightened the material over his torso before he turned, he smirked and tapered his eyes. “Have you been ogling me, darlin’?”

  Gazing at the freshly showered guy in my bedroom, I wiggled my eyebrows, shrugged a noncommittal shoulder, and stepped from the closet, flipping the light switch as I did so.

  “Kady Jenson,” he gasped, dipping his hands into his front pockets.

  “Don’t be full of yourself, Walker. I didn’t say yes.”

  “’Aye, that you didn’t. But you didn’t deny it either.”

  I strolled toward the marble-like dressing table by the window to fetch my green clutch purse. “What can I say,” I murmured shooting him a glare. “I have a good eye for detail, and that wild cat you have spread over your back, is some very fancy detail.”

  He held the door of his truck open for me, allowing me to slip into the bench seat. I was locking my seatbelt into place when he slipped into the driver’s side, tossed his leather jacket to the side and started the ignition.

  “So where are we going darlin’?” he asked, stretching the belt over his torso.

  I gazed to my left, the bottom half of the large Celtic-styled cross on his bulging bicep was peeking out from under the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Have you heard of Ecstasy?”

  “Have I heard of…” he trailed off shaking his head and ran his hand through his damp hair, “Of course I have, Kady. I’m not a hermit you know.” He pulled out of the driveway, muttering to himself. The occasional sniggering coming from behind the wheel, made it blatantly obvious that he was finding his one person conversation highly entertaining.

  Darkness was already gaining by the time we were halfway to the most hip club in town. The streetlamps flickered as orange-glows lit the way down the slightly dilapida
ted streets, certain secluded areas were enclosed by tall fences with barbed wire coiled around the top.

  I pulled my focus from the passing buildings plastered with graffiti, peeked over at Walker and asked him a question which I have been giving myself a headache over for the prior two weeks. “Why is there such animosity between you and Liam?”

  Offering me a brief glance, he pulled his gaze from the road ahead. “Me and Liam?”

  I nodded and licked my lips. “It’s hard to misread that kind of atmosphere.”

  Silence suffused for a moment before he muttered, “We had a…misunderstanding––”

  “What about?” The words came from me naturally. “It must have been a pretty big misunderstanding to bring forth the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse whenever you two are in the same room.”

  He sniggered, seemingly unbothered. “Yeah, it was pretty fucking big, but no need to worry your pretty little head, darlin’.” He pulled up and shut off the ignition. Red and white lights streamed from the double glass doors, ‘Ecstasy’ was lit up in Diablo-red over the awning in cursive lettering. “Let’s just have a good night.”

  I nodded my acquiescence, unclipped my seatbelt and dropped out of the truck.

  Security nodded us in, and with my Irish bodyguard at my side I was ushered into the nightclub with a firm hand pressed at the base of my back. I turned to look at him the moment I felt his warm, sturdy hand on my body. Even though my silk blouse was a barrier between us, to me, I might as well have been nude, because the effect he had on my body made no difference regardless of if I was clothed or butt naked. He smiled as he flexed his fingers against me. He knew what he was doing, the bastard.

  A piercing voice calling, “Chick,” had me perusing the area. Within moments, my eyes fell upon Liv, her brunette hair all big, long and 1980’s styled with a metallic red headband that matched the metallic red tight mini-dress, which barely contained her tits and covered her female surprises.

  You could tell she was a fucking stripper and proud of it.

  She pushed herself from the red curved plush bench as I made my way toward the kinky devil. “Hey, Liv,”––I wrapped my arms around her neck––“Sorry we’re a little late.”

  “No worries, you’re here now.” Holding my upper arms, she pulled away and her eyes deviated to Walker who was standing at my side with his hands buried in his front pants pockets. I swear I heard her growl when she let her hands fall and skirted me. “And who’s this then, I don’t think I have had the pleasure.” She held out her hand.

  “Walker, meet Liv, Liv, meet Walker, one of Liam’s employees.”

  There was no doubt about it; Liv was in flirt mode, because when their hands fell away from one another, she began fumbling with her overly large silver hoop earring. “Well, Walker, I’m surprised I haven’t heard anything about you.” She lowered herself back into the seat, crossed her amazing set of bronzed legs, and tapped the vacant spot next to her, “Come.”

  He reflected her smile and skirted the low round table to take his seat.

  The waitress approached us just as I was lowering myself opposite the gorgeous two-some. I had no reservation that those two would have some seriously stunning kids. The thought was unwelcomed. And the fact that it was unwelcomed, I found slightly unnerving.

  “What’ll it be?”

  “I’ll have a white wine. Walker, what are you having?” I called over the table.

  “I’ll have a Jack,” he laughed. I pointed my finger and pursed my lips at him as he subtly teased about the alias I gave to my nosey-neighbor earlier.

  Liv pressed her hand on his thigh and leaned in, showing off as much of her cleavage as possible. “And I’ll have a screaming orgasm”––she looked back at Walker, pouted her lips and fluttered her eyelashes––“I haven’t had one in a while, and they aren’t as effective if it’s one of your own.”

  The sandwich I ate for lunch slowly made itself known as it clawed its way back up my throat. My stomach rose then freefell in a knotted mass. The heated smirk Walker bade my best friend had me averting my eyes, and studying my fingers as I tangled them together in my lap.

  I never felt so out of place as the waitress scampered off with our order.

  Liv rested on her right hip, her right arm propped on the curve of the arched couch. Her left hand traced small circles on her chest. “So Walker, you work for Liam?”

  “’Aye.”

  “In what area?” she probed her voice heavy and throaty. She was going all out tonight, her left leg swished from side to side, causing her ankle to finely graze his lower leg.

  I observed as his attention sank from her smoky eyes to the seducing strokes that the fingertips of her left hand were making over the bulge of her breasts. He licked his lips, “Construction.”

  “I should have known with the size of those arms.” She halted her stirring fingers. “May I?”

  He nodded warily, granting his permission to have her physically examine his muscles.

  “Wow, you are definitely packing there, Walker.”

  I scanned around for the waitress who was taking far too fucking long. If I was going to sit through this mating scene without throwing up or feeling antagonized, I was going to need a fucking drink––and something stronger than the white wine I had just ordered.

  “Finally,” I rolled my eyes as the dark-haired waitress drew near with a tray in hand.

  “I have one white wine, one screaming orgasm––”

  “I hope to have more than one tonight,” Liv injected with a seductive, rasping chuckle.

  “And a Jack.”

  “Make that two Jack’s will you, babe,” I ordered, bleeding my wine in two large gulps and slamming it back on her round salver. Walker glowered at me as I pushed myself from my seat. “Excuse me, I need the restroom.”

  Managing to squeeze through the crowd on the dance floor, which were being turned all manner of different colors with the flashing lights, I felt a firm hand clutching on my hip. Tossing the guy an affronted stare, I just managed to pull away before being pulled into the throng of sweaty, grinding dancers.

  Not for a second did I acknowledge my own strength, when I pushed the door to the restroom open. A woman shrieked, “Hey,” as the door hit the wall before slamming shut.

  Frowning, I held my hands up. “I’m sorry,” I apologized rounding the right corner and forcing a firm grip on the unit of washbasins. For the umpteenth time I stared into the mirror, and a stranger stared back. “What the fuck is your problem?” I hissed under my breath.

  “Excuse me?” A blond behind me gasped, holding her hand to her chest as she surfaced from one of the stalls.

  Admonishing myself for not staying home, I hung my head. “Sorry, not you. I was talking to myself.”

  “You want to be careful with that,”––she placed a cold hand on my shoulder––“it’s the first sign of madness.”

  I snorted, “I think I’m already there.”

  When I got back to our table, Liv was throwing all of her best moves, moves that I saw time and time again when we were working Red Velvet together. Flipping her hair over her right shoulder to entice her target with a view of the curve of her neck, stroking the bulge of her chest, her thighs, and the rasping giggles as she tipped her head back then pressed her chest against his arm as she fell forward.

  Seeing the effect that she was having on him stirred my frustration further. Each time I saw his eyes drop to her flaunted, flawless flesh, I heard my heart thrumming in my ears, my pulse puncturing through my neck, and my lungs all but gave up on even sucking in air. I must have been watching like a hawk because I even noticed each of his gasps, the way his eyes fluttered closed for a few precious seconds whenever her body made contact with his, as though relishing that connection.

  I felt so angry, so irritated that it made me feel sick with adrenaline.

  I leaned over the table, snatched the shot of Jack and tossed it down my throat, hoping that it would contain my rising jea
lous fury and turn it to love and happiness.

  Yeah, I felt like a fucking flowerchild.

  “Kady, are you alright?” The pleasant lilt which usually had me secretly squirming in my seat and the air ousted from my lungs now filled me infuriation, and aggravated my hidden bitch.

  “I’m fine,” I hissed, not even attempting to lift my eyes to meet his gaze.

  “So how old are you, Walker?” I stared at my best friend, my jaw working rapidly under my flesh as her fingertips traced over the tribal-sleeve tattoo on his left arm.

  “I’m twenty-five, what about you?”

  She giggled again and I just wanted to wrap my hands around her throat to shut her up. “I hope I’m not too old for you, Walker, because I’m nearly thirty…”

  Thirty…

  Chapter Eight

  Two years ago.

  “I’m not sure about this, Liv. I don’t think I can do it.”

  She dropped her head, yet I remained restrained by the intensity of her golden, almond glare. Hands set sturdily on my shoulders she incited me, “Yes, Kady, you can…we can. You said you had no idea what to do for his thirtieth, what better gift than every man’s fantasy?”

  She was right. I’d been brooding for what seemed like months about the perfect gift for Liam’s thirtieth birthday. He had already achieved so much, and I was finding it increasingly difficult to decide, considering I was still unemployed after leaving my three year job at Red Velvet.

  I stared at my best friend for a good few minutes not saying a word. I simply heaved a sigh, which merited me with her, “Good girl” praise that always made me relax.

  “Hey, Kady, baby, I’m ho––” He was just closing the apartment door when he stopped abruptly. In a loud din, his briefcase plummeted from his grasp onto the hardwood flooring of the smallish hallway. “What’s going on?”

  Liv and I both sported tiny satin gowns which barely covered the tops of our thighs. Liam’s eyes burned with questioning hunger as he watched my friend stand behind me down the hall to our bedroom, her arms coiled around my waist caressing my body through the silken fabric.