by Amo Jones
She continues on. “You left with nothing else but that top, but not before he woke, shocked the living shit out of both of us, and your hands went flying, dignity went flying –along with your phone, and then we both fell out the window, landing on taxi dude who was waiting down below. As hottie was leaning out the window to laugh at us, we both bolted to the car, with taxi driver hot on our heels. He floored it out of there quick-smart. All of us were in fits of laughter.”
“Oh my God,” I gasp, just as memories start flashing through my head like a bad movie. “I remember.” Leila’s phone vibrates on her dresser, she reaches for it aimlessly. I swing my legs off the bed, letting my long hair fall over my face while massaging my temples. “God, I –”
“—Oh!” Leila giggles smugly. “Oh, this is great.”
“What?” I answer, still caressing my temples. I peek at her from behind the loose strands of pink hair. “Wait don’t tell me, you hooked up with the taxi dude.”
She doesn’t answer me, but I feel a weighted thud land beside my thigh. “No. I mean, I did consider it, but that text,” she points to the phone near my leg. “Is for you.”
“What?” I ask confused, and then grab the phone, opening the text.
Ame: MMS loading…
“Oh…no…”
“Oh…yes…” Leila mocks in my tone, nodding her head up and down and tapping her fingertips together like the evil wench that she is.
I swallow nervously, and then click “Open”…
“Tequila shots are the way of life.” Leila shoved a shot glass into my hand. “Come on, Ame.”
She started dancing to some hip-hop song playing through the loud speakers, and for a brief second, I thought about going home. I was dressed in a tight black bodysuit that dipped down between my breasts and a mini skirt that cinched around my waist, but that’s as far as I let Leila go. She tried to get me into heels, but before she could pull out her god-awful Louboutins, I was already tying up my –what she calls—goth boots. They’re not goth boots, or maybe they are, either way, I’m not bothered. They’re comfortable and all I’ve really loved to wear since I was a kid. If it’s not my black Doc Martens, it’s something casual like Chuck Taylors. I would never, ever, be seen in any kind of heel. She shoved some thigh-high fishnet tights into my hand and demanded I put them on first, and then she would allow me to wear the boots, and I figured instead of hearing her go on and on about it all night (because she was very capable of doing so), I threw the stupid things on. I don’t wear makeup, and that didn’t change tonight either. I brushed on a smudge of blush—though I don’t need it—and some pineapple flavored lip balm, that had more scent and taste than what it did display wise— let my pale pink hair down from the tight bun I usually always leave it in, took my reading glasses off, and we were on our way. But as I was standing there with a shot glass of clear liquid in one hand, and a slice of lime in the other, I was beginning to regret every decision—including becoming friends with Leila—that led me to this point. She must’ve sensed this like the little spidey-sensor that she was, because her arm wrapped around my waist as she pulled me into her.
“Oh come, on. Just think… this time next weekend, you’ll be wishing you were ass deep in tequila shots while you’re meeting your mom’s new man and kids.”
She was right. I was being a softie. I don’t do kids, and they don’t do me. I don’t really like being told all my flaws in under thirty-seconds flat.
I raised the glass to my lips and tilted my head back, swallowing the sharp, disgusting drink, then quickly shoved the lime into my mouth like I had seen in so many movies.
“Wooo!” Leila raised her arms in the air. “That’s my girl. Now, let’s get another.”
A few more shots in, I was dancing up against Leila, the room sort of spinning. She dropped down in front of me to rub her ass all over my front in a seductive manner, giving a clear view of the crowd in front of me. My smile fell when I saw what, or who, was staring back at me. Dark brown hair sticking out of a cap that’s flipped backward, intense eyes that summon all of my senses at once. Soft, tan skin, and then he stands, his still on mine. He has to be around six-foot. His lean body carries nicely fit worn jeans and a black shirt. He swallows his drink while his focus remains on me, then pats his friend’s back and then—“Oh no.” I muttered, just as Leila came back to standing, laughing and tossing her hair over her shoulder. “What?” She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, handing me another drink.
My palms were sweaty, so I rubbed them down my skirt. “He’s—comi—”
“—Who?” Leila caught my eyes, following my line of sight. It was as though he was walking toward us in slow motion. I held my breath as he got closer and closer, and— his eyes flicker over my shoulder, a sexy grin tickling the corner of his mouth, displaying a tiny show of his straight white teeth, and then he brushes past me, going straight to the bar.
I let out the breath I was holding, my shoulders sagging in relief.
Leila chuckled. “Oh, I see you’ve noticed Maddox Stone.”
“Maddox what now?” I asked. I felt as though I was floating and the walls seemed to warp. “I think I want more to drink.”
“Sure you do.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
I rolled my eyes, trying not to look too obvious in how disappointed I was that he walked past us. I’d never seen him—ever, but then again, I don’t go out much, and when I do go out, I’m almost always trying to stop Leila from killing herself.
“That’s not what I mean, I just mean,” I paused, deciding on distraction. It always worked with Leila. “I mean that I need to get more drunk. I think.”
“Well.” She hooked her arm in mine. “Who am I to stop you?” She pulled out a stool at the bar, ordering four shots and two Jager bombs.
“Um,” I said, eying the shot glasses with my index finger raised. “I don’t think this is what I me—”
“Scared?” a voice said from beside me and out of instinct, I looked directly at him. I faltered slightly, my mouth going dry.
Shit.
“Not scared, just… wary.”
His gaze stayed on me and goddamnit, he was more beautiful up close. His cheeks, though his skin had a slight golden tint to it, had a smidge of blush, probably from the alcohol. His eyes were a dark avocado green, which were framed by eyelashes that were thick black. His jaw was prominent, his cheekbones slightly high, like a model’s. His features were so sharp and breath-taking, I almost faltered. Both arms were covered in tattoo’s, with another big one on his neck. He also had a gold ring in his nose. Something about him seemed menacing. He definitely gave me the bad boy vibe—not my type. I liked the quirky guys. The nerds who liked science over parties. I could never date a guy who skated like me, they always found it intimidating when I could out trick them, so I liked quirky guys, and I liked them for a reason, because guys like Maddox Stone, they broke girls like me. I realized I was being judgmental, as I didn’t really know his story, but at the same time, I wanted to be aware. Even if I was at a bar full of drunk people—me being one of those people.
He scooped up my shot glass, his eyes pinning me in my spot, and then brought the rim to his lips, tipped his head back and shot it back. He sucked on the lime and then tossed it into the glass.
“Try it. It’s fun.”
“What? You trying to get me drunk?” I picked up the other glass, shot it back, and then grabbed Leila’s other one and shot that back too. “All you had to do was ask.”
His eyes narrowed and then moved over my shoulder, landing on Leila, I was guessing, then came back to me. “I’m Maddox.”
“Right.” I try my hardest to not look out of place. “I’m Amethyst, but people usually call me Ame.”
“Ame?” He grinned. “It’s cute. I like it.” Then he glanced over to the table I saw him at before. “Come sit with us?”
I cast a quick look to Leila, who was glaring at me like what the fuck was I waiting for, so I shrug. “Yeah, sure.” He
picked up the rest of his drinks that he came for and we followed him back to the table. I spun around quickly when I knew I was out of earshot from him. “Tell me everything about him.”
There was no surprise that Leila knew who he was. She had either slept with him (which I was really hoping she hadn’t), or she had been with his friend.
“I fucked his friend, and, hey!” Her arm caught mine. “Homeboy can be a bit of a player. Never had a girl, but he plays the field, if you feel me.”
I searched her eyes, bored. “I don’t feel you, so spit it out.”
“Wrap it up.”
“Leila!” I whacked her with the back of my hand, but then realized if I was to have my first one-night stand, would he really be the worst candidate? No. The answer was no, he wouldn’t. My face fell at this revelation.
Leila must catch it because she busted out laughing. “Girl, do it, but let’s continue to drink first.”
She brushed past me and headed to the table.
“Hey! Rosé!” a voice yelled from behind me.
I turned back toward the table, and that’s when I realized eight sets of eyes were watching me. Did he just call me Rosé? As in the wine? I walked toward them, and because Leila, like the little wench she was, had taken a seat beside one of the other guys, that left me to take the only empty spot.
Right beside Maddox.
“Rosé?” I gritted my teeth slightly, scrunching up my face in distaste. The guy sitting opposite me, and who had called me that, resembled Aquaman.
He grinned, his dark green eyes curving in mischief. Soft brown hair hung down his thick shoulders, and his jaw was hidden behind a heavy beard. That wasn’t where the resemblance to Aquaman stopped though, oh no, this guy had the arms and body to match. He was scary but cute. If that could even be possible. I had a little bit of hair envy over his long locks, too.
“Yeah, your hair!” He gestured around my body, his demeanor relaxed.
“Oh, right, the pink.” I slowly sat down, suddenly feeling way out of my element. I picked up my drink and took a long sip.
“It’s different.” He hid his smile behind his glass. “Is all I’m saying.”
“Mmmhmm, I know.” I put my glass back down. “It’s sort of why I dyed it.”
Maddox, who I could see out of the corner of my eye was still staring at me, put his arm over the top of my chair. Aquaman caught his friend’s body language, and then slowly sunk back into his seat, a playful grin on his face.
Maddox pointed from the guy beside Leila. “That’s Wolf.” I followed his finger and my focus fell on another set of green eyes, only, where Maddox’ were a little more mischief mixed with torment, this guy’s were a little more…reserved. He looked similar to Maddox, though. A little bit. He was a tad shorter and leaner than Maddox. Maybe a cousin. Good looking, obviously.
Maddox gestured to Aquaman. “That’s Talon.”
“Aquaman sounds better, just saying…” I murmured, downing the rest of my drink. When I put my glass back on the table, everyone at our table started laughing. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Then I looked to Leila pleadingly. “Lei…”
She swiped tears from her cheeks. “Aw, honey, it’s ok.”
Sinking back in my chair, I swallowed my nerves. “I’m going to need another drink.”
Many drinks later, we’d all fallen into breezy conversation. My muscles had relaxed, but I was well aware that I was at a non-respectfully drunk stage. Even Maddox, who had picked up the PDA, had one hand on my knee, which was causing heart palpitations. “Aquaman and Rosé, has a ring to it, doesn’t it?” Aquaman—Talon, winked at me from across the table.
Maddox’s grip tightened on my leg. It was fleeting, and I almost missed it.
“I think I’ll let you call me Rosé, but only because I will call you Aquaman.”
Talon’s head tipped back, his laugh erupting out of him. The music and the chatter in the room was drowning out my anxiety—or maybe that was how much alcohol I had drunk.
I giggled, more to myself, and turned to face Maddox who was still seated beside me. Our gazes caught, and the intensity of his stare sucked out all of the voices. My heart was banging against my chest, my breathing shallow and desperate. His eyes dropped to my lips, his head tilting to watch me with interest. I swallowed when I saw the corner of his mouth tip up in a taunting smile. Why did he feel familiar? Something about him. Or the drinks were playing tricks on me—yes, that would be it.
“Amethyst?” His tongue wrapped around each syllable of my name, and suddenly, I wanted to know what that tongue felt like pressed against my flesh. What his rough voice sounded like groaning out my name.
Jesus Christ, I was drunk. And I was still staring at him.
“What?” I asked, ignoring the rising heat climbing inside my body.
Suddenly his face was closer to mine, so close that I could feel his breath fall over my bottom lip. I wanted him. Bad. Fingers latched around the back of my neck, pulling me closer until our lips were lightly pressed together, not kissing, just there—existing.
“You and I are leaving,” he growled over my lips, conjuring all of my senses and possessing them with five simple words. “Now,” he finished.
Make that six words.
We were stumbling down a long hallway after climbing tedious stairs. Everything was constantly obscured, reality now tainted by my blurred vision, but my lips were always on his. His tongue dominated my mouth, and just as we reached his bedroom door, he picked me up by my ass. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling off his shirt as he kicked his bedroom door closed again and slammed me up against it. I didn’t remember exactly what happened between leaving the bar to getting here, and I didn’t really care. This man who I had just met, lit my insides up in every way possible, and I felt like I was going to combust from the inferno that was raging through me. Or maybe that was the alcohol—I mean, alcohol was flammable, right? Who cared, it felt great. He laughed, and his mouth connected with mine again. He expertly massaged my tongue with his while his hands went everywhere, then he placed me back on my feet and tore my clothes off, leaving me in nothing but my fishnet tights. He picked me back up then he threw me onto his bed, stepping backward, his step faltering slightly. He was obviously as drunk as I was. He lazily took in my naked body, as his tongue came out and licked his lip. Jesus, I think that was by far the hottest thing I had ever seen, then he removed his jeans and boxer briefs—nope, that was definitely the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. I gulped, either I was seeing double, or his dick size was frightening. I yanked my attention away from everything south and took in his hair. Ruffled, brown, and just the right length to yank on it. My eyes dropped back down his chest and my breath caught when I took in all of his tattoos. They filled a quarter of his chest and both of his arms. Couldn’t make out what they were, but I saw large Old English style writing going over his chest. D E S T R—nope. I’ve got nothing.
He grinned, then latched onto my ankles and yanked me down the bed. I screamed out excitedly just as his hand slammed over my mouth. His body lightly fell over mine, each of his legs stretching mine open until he was resting right there. I could feel him pressing against me and I tilted my hips up to him, wanting friction.
“We doing this? Because if we are, this is the only time I’m giving you an out. After this, your ass is mine.”
“Jesus,” I exhaled, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. His smell was everywhere, rubbing off of his skin and onto mine. Leather, whiskey, clean soap, and mint.
He chuckled. “Not Jesus, princess.” He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and tugged, before unlatching it and whispering, “Maddox.”
“I’m no princess, but ye—”He pushed inside of me before I could finish my answer.
I moaned, everything fuzzy and coming in and out.
Sweat, tongue, dick, pleasure, pain….
Back to the now, Maddox has sent a photo of him with his cap on backward, no shirt on, his pierced tongue sticking out b
etween his lips and his fingers spread on either side of his mouth.
“Cheeky fucker,” Leila mutters, looking smug from beside me.
“Oh my God, Lei, I can never see him again! Like, ever!”
“Don’t be dramatic! It’s only Maddox. He will have already forgotten your name. I wouldn’t sweat it, but you do need to collect that phone! Girl, iPhones are ridiculous, unless you finally want to move to Samsung.” She heads into our bathroom and swings a towel over her shoulder. She sighs once she sees my panicking is not subsiding. “Honey, it’s fine, honestly, I’ve had tons of one-night stands. The trick is to not think too much into it.”
Another text comes through and I scream, throwing the phone across the room.
Leila rolls her eyes, picks it up and stands. “You might need this phone, Rosé, but I’m keeping these…” She pauses, then her lips curl as she tries to stop her laugh. She turns her phone around to face me, and it’s a freaking photo of my red panties.
“Shit.”
Leila laughs. “I’m hitting the shower, boo, you should text him back. If Wolf texts me, tell him I’ll see him later.”
“Wait!” I stand from the bed. “You’re actually having a thing with Wolf?”
“After last night? Hell yes. His D game is on point.”
“Oh, see, I’m not cut out for that.”
“For what?” she asks, tilting her head.
“That!” I gesture to her. “The whole casual thing. Like, shit.”
“Ame, it was a one-night stand. Maddox has them probably every weekend with girls who he deems worthy of him.” she rolls her eyes again, and I sense something there. Maybe there’s something she isn’t telling me.
“You’re right, but I’m not going to get my phone or my damn panties back. I’d rather never see him again.”
AMETHYST
“Do you have everything?” Leila asks as we make our way down to the student parking. I pop the trunk of my little BMW hatchback. It was the one thing Dad said I couldn’t fight him on buying. I always tried to stop him and my mom from spending unnecessary money on me, but the car was the thing he needed me to own. He yapped on about the five-star safety rating and how European cars are the safest cars to own. I knew that it was his cop coming out of him, and I knew Dad had seen some horrendous accidents in his time, so I allowed it. She’s red, has leather seats and is a stick shift. I learned on a stick, and it has stuck with me since.