Steamy Dorm
Page 33
“What's wrong? Where's Noelle?”
Jordy wrings her hands in frustration, before adjusting the guitar strap on her shoulders. “She ditched me! She ditched the act, and me. She got the chance for a solo recording act. She went back on what we said we'd do when we started gigging. That we wouldn't fuck each other over if it came to that.”
I think back to when Noelle discovered me in the apartment with Jordy. “This isn't anything to do with me as well, is it? Because... you know. Something did kind of happen between us. And I don't know if she caught out on that.”
“What? No.” Jordy scrunches her eyebrows, baffled and annoyed at my statement. “It's nothing to do with you. Why would you even think that?”
My cheeks heat up. I didn't think that was an unreasonable assumption, and I bluster in defending myself. “I don't know. I just thought – I heard you guys arguing. And she's always snappy to me, and you're always nice to me, so I wondered if she might have heard something. Or whatever.”
Jordy lets out a snort as we both sit down onto a pockmarked square table. “You're not that important to her.” Upon seeing my distraught expression, she hastily adds, “Nobody is important to Noelle except Noelle. She doesn't care about anything. I could sleep with a goldfish and she wouldn't blink an eye. This was a long time coming. I'm surprised she didn't leave months sooner. Because she used to say a lot that I was holding her back.”
I switch from cursing myself inwardly about jumping to conclusions like a suicidal frog, to immediate concern for Jordy. “Why would she say that? You're really talented.”
In response, Jordy shrugs, eyes downcast. I don't like seeing her sad. Despite her tough words, she's obviously off kilter from the whole business, and looks on the verge of tears. “Look. Just perform by yourself. Play some rad rifts. Stun the crowd into insensibility with your solos. We'll love it.”
“I perform better with a partner. I'm no good just standing on the stage by myself.” Jordy hesitates, biting her lip. “I've got it!” she then exclaims, one moment staring at the table between us, the next pointing at me. “You can sing. You know our set songs, right?”
“I,” I mumble, a bolt of panic sliding through me. “Um.”
“I've heard your voice!” Jordy reached forward in earnest, grabbing my hands and holding them tight. I shiver at the contact, and again take in the scent of mown grass and ripe strawberries. I end up flicking my gaze to her lips as she runs a tongue over them. “You can do it. I know you can.”
I let out a squeak of terror in response. The thought of going up and singing in front of strangers with songs that I've only sung in the shower is making me want to faint.
Jordy looks at me, excited and imploring at the same time.
Well, fuck, I think. No way can I resist that puppy face. Plus, I do want to remain on her good side. For reasons. She has me hook, line and sinker.
Chapter Four
After telling my boss and the other staff members what's up, I clamber onto the stage behind Jordy, and Freddy examines me in surprise. He blocks the microphone for a second. “Clarissa. You're taking up singing again?”
“Apparently.”
Freddy grins, before taking charge of the mic. “Looks like our music act is here, with a slight change of singer. I think you guys will be in for a treat tonight! Incidentally, did you hear about the girl who lost her left arm and left leg? She's 'alright' now.”
“Fuck off!” Someone in the audience yelled, along with groans and laughter. “Be gone with you!”
He leaves me to the lions, and Jordy gives me an encouraging smile. “Let's start with Web of Lies. Remember. Deep breath. Calm. You can do this. And thank you. Seriously.”
“I regret,” I answer. She winks at me, then starts strumming the first notes. Hesitantly, aware of all the eyes upon me, I begin singing. At first, I'm slow and shaky, and I know it, but Jordy steps closer to me, exaggerating deep, relaxed breaths, and I gradually build confidence throughout the song. I end up glancing over the audience's heads a lot. Freddy in the meanwhile is now working my share of the tables, which gives me another reason to add to the list of why Freddy is my bestest friend ever, and at the end of Web of Lies – I've fallen into perfect harmony with Jordy's playing. My voice is clear, high, with that country air that I dislike about it, but the crowd fall into silence as we finish Web of Lies, and then start another crowd pleaser – Truth of Love.
You say that love can feel like the worse thing in the world
But it's better to be loved then not loved at all
Because it's not love that causes all the pain
It's the loss of it, the death of it that drives us insane...
I'll be here for you
Like you're here for me
The only thing that's true
Is you'll be the death of me...
By the time the last song finishes, and Jordy announces it's the end of the set, the crowd applaud rapturously. Freddy holds one thumb up from the audience, Jordy is beaming at me, and I'm grinning from ear to ear.
“They like me!”
“They should. You were fucking brilliant,” Jordy says, eyes sparkling. “That was perfect. I'm in love with that voice.”
Those words thrill me. Squealing happiness, as Jordy puts her guitar down I catch her in a rough embrace. She staggers backwards, before stabilizing and laughing as she hugs me back. For a moment, I don't register the press of her body into mine, but when I do, I find myself instantly getting turned on, and hastily back off, before letting out a laugh. I can't believe I sung in front of all these people. What's more, they even seem to like our dynamic.
I have to finish the rest of my shift, which luckily is only thirty minutes, and Jordy walks me to my car.
“Thanks again,” she says, wrapping an arm about my neck, “you killed it back there. How come you've never sung in public before, though? You have an amazing voice.”
“Honestly? It's because I don't think I'm good enough. I don't like my singing voice. It's really immature and I sound like one of those hick country singers who chew grain.”
“That's ridiculous.” Jordy stares at me, utterly serious. “I don't believe that on so many levels. You're good. And you should know it.” She brushes me on the cheek, and gives an admiring, satisfied curl of her lips.
The flattery sends me off balance, along with her entrancing features. Anyone who stares at me like that whom I have the slightest interest in will never fail to make the frogs in my stomach jump. Fluttering is too tame for the sensation that conjured up inside. My mind starts running away with the possibility of our lips contacting, of her maybe shoving me into my car across the back seat, the leather creaking around us as we wrestle with each other, and rip at one another's clothes. I've had car sex once, and it was significantly less sexy than the scenario I'm imagining at the moment. It helps that Jordy, with her blonde hair, and her tall, likely slender figure is the kind of person who you might expect as one of the hot girls that Dean picks up from Supernatural for his one night stands.
Yes, I like my T.V shows.
It's not long before Jordy manages to charm me into heading back to her place for a few celebratory drinks – there was no car sex, but she came dangerously close to distracting me a few times when I was driving, until I needed to tell her to stop if she didn't want to die. She grinned at that but complied, taking her teasing hand off my thigh.
I tell myself that I'm doing this as well because I suspect she could do with some company, and that I want to continue the magic of this evening with her – which is a nice cover up for the fact that I want for us to do the horizontal tango once again.
I hear Freddy's voice at the back of my head as I park outside her apartment. No. Just no. Don't do it, Clarissa.
She cracks open a beer from her fridge and hands it to me, and we spend a good hour talking about the performance, and what a utter bitch Noelle is. I was right about Jordy needing to talk to someone, which makes my motives less despicable.
Jordy needs to get it off her chest, I can tell, and my ears are near deafened by the ranting she has in place for the girl who dumped her.
I can't help but notice that we're gradually edging closer and closer on the leather sofa, having started at opposite ends, until my diminutive form is cuddled right up to Jordy's tall body, hidden underneath a dark hoodie. We've had more than a few drinks, and my barriers are lowered. So, apparently, are Jordy's.
“You're amazing, Clarissa, you know that? You're a good singer... a good looker... sometimes you make funny jokes... and sometimes you fall onto collapsible tables.”
“You're never gonna let that go, are you?” I huff, though I giggle as well. It was pretty fucking funny, even though it was probably one of the more humiliating things to happen in my short existence on this earth.
“Clarissa.” Jordy frowns, taking a deep breath, and touching the side of my cheek with her hands. “Do you like me?”
I feel suddenly, utterly sober. What do I say to this? Yes? If I say yes, what would it mean? Would it be like a declaration of love? Do I love her? Do I want that?
Is it too soon? Is she on the rebound, like me? Is she even with Noelle, anymore?
My brain is overloading with the conflict of desire and moral integrity, of which I don't seem to have much of. “Yes,” I finally whisper, swallowing a lump of nervousness.
Jordy leans closer, so that her breath tickles my lips. “The first time, we were a little rough, weren't we? We didn't have enough time to discover... everything.”
I shake my head mutely. With a devious curl of her mouth, Jordy closes the distance, and our lips press together. I close my eyes, fuzzy from drink and arousal, and loop my fingers into her blonde hair, pulling her nearer as we begin to explore one another's mouths, sharing secrets with our lips.
She's soft, and she smells good. She's gentle, and it leaves an ache in my heart, on top of the fluctuating lust that burns within.
No, stop. I've fucked things up once. I know she's dating Noelle. Why must I always give in to desire?
Panicking, I withdraw from Jordy's lips, and gasp, “Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I seem to be abnormally attracted to people who are not single, and what I just did you to there was possibly the bitchiest thing I can think of. Like, I'm interfering with you and Noelle and I'm aware of this, but I just want to keep feeling you against me. You're amazing. Damn it.”
Jordy, blinking at my gush of words, holds up a hand and laughs. “Whoa, Nellie. First, pretty sure I was the one who kissed you here . So don't blame yourself for that. Second, me and Noelle are finished. It's over. I'm totally available. Third,” she says, holding up three fingers, “this is hardly the time to start freaking out, when we've already gone so far. I wouldn't want you getting buyer's remorse around me.” This last one is accompanied by a wicked grin.
I stare at her for a moment. She broke up with Noelle? Officially? I'm not a treacherous idiot who makes people cheat on their lovers with me?
What planet am I on? In the meanwhile, whilst my thoughts whirl chaotically, Jordy's waiting patiently for a response.
My answer is to pull her back to me, and engage in a deepest, soul-searching kiss.
Chapter Five
I wanted to do things seriously, to treat Jordy to the whole dating scene rather than leaping from singing act to bed Olympics. However, what I wanted and what I did were two completely different things.
Again, we groped each other on the sofa, finding excuses to keep contact with bare skin, to feel our hands glide over smooth flesh and tiny hair follicles. Again, for whatever reason, Jordy wanted to restrain me, and stop me from pleasuring her, instead focusing on what she did to me. Of course, whatever she does to me when I'm beneath her hands feels amazing, and sends me to places outside this reality. Her scent is intoxicating, and it's too easy to shut off my brain and indulge in what she offers.
She takes me to places where I've never been, and her sighs and gasps at my pleasure are something else. I think I understand how some people might be able to orgasm just from watching their partners climax alone, or being the sole reason why the person is having so much fun.
I don't stay with her overnight, though. Because as dumb as it sounds, I want to give the traditional side of things a try on the outside. And because I want to make a good impression on Freddy. He has that kind of radar sense that can tell when I've slept over someone's house, and I rather not give him extra anxiety in his worry for me.
He doesn't need to be worried, though. This is something special. I can feel it in my bones.
As we officially start dating, we see each other a lot over the course of a few weeks. We went to the movies once, ate out at another restaurant, and, on top of the physical activities we're sharing, we're also participating in music. Jordy, excited to have a new partner that can sing, insists on creating new music together with me, along with rehearsing the tunes she's already perfected.
Along with our duo act merging together, the name of her band changes. Before, it was called Dark Web.
Now, it's called Hidden Truth – after the new song that we're writing and practising together.
“Your harmony is beyond anything I had with Noelle,” Jordy remarked to me in one of our jamming sessions, when I'd finished work. My voice was exhausted from having stretched itself through several tunes, and we were sprawled together on the sofa, arms wrapped around one another. “I just feel this... connection with you and your singing. You sound like a bird. Clear and high and pure. It's so haunting, I get chills from listening to you. I want to write songs that suit that voice. Amongst others things that I want to do with you...”
She had smiled then, drew closer, and engaged me in another of our many kisses that we had shared. My stomach had twitched, and some kind of heavenly chorus decided to hum in my brain. Each time we crashed together like this, it became harder to pull away from one another. It always seems like a test between us, to see which person breaks first, and makes the lunge. We love touching each other's bare skins under our clothes, leaving heat trails. We've tasted often one another's tongues as they duel – and I find myself falling for Jordy DeWitt, and falling hard.
I've always been a sucker for love. I admit this to Freddy when it's officially been three and a half weeks since we started dating. I'm a sucker for love, and maybe a simple creature to please.
Since Noelle walked out on the person she was supposed to share her dreams with, there's been a new life in Jordy, as if she's realizing for the first time that she's free of burden and trouble.
Too bad for Noelle that Jordy has a new dream now with me.
“I really think I'm falling in love with her,” I admit to Freddy, who had been watching the blossoming relationship the whole time with a wary, cautious expression in his face.
My hulk of a friend doesn't want to make me feel bad, but neither does he want to toss away his concern. “Clarissa. You know as well as I do that I want you to be happy. And I really hope that things work out. Just, be careful, okay? Watch your step.”
“Come on, I'm not that clumsy,” I say, completely denying the fact that I am.
“Just because Jordy prefers you in bed to Noelle doesn't mean that she has a thirst for stardom as well. What Noelle got is the kind of thing that would make someone insanely jealous. Music is Jordy's life. She'll want a shot if she can take it as well.”
“What are you trying to imply?” I say, hurt and confused. “That she'd leave me?”
Freddy shrugs. “Just be careful. Guard your heart.” He pulls me close for a hug afterwards, and I accept it reluctantly. His snide comment about me being better in bed leaves no doubt to me that he knows exactly what is going on, and has suspected that it's been going on before our “dating.” at least, however, he doesn't call me out on it directly. It's a shame, though. He doesn't understand how wonderful this feeling is. Or maybe he does.
When I turn up at Jordy's apartment a few hours later, I've gone the full hog. I've washed, sha
ved, and sprayed perfume. I want to make tonight one of the best experiences we've had, and for us to be lost in each other.
When I arrive at Jordy's apartment, having parked in the residential lot, she lets me in, though she's clutching her cellphone in one hand, and stress lines furrow her eyebrows.
“Hey, Clarissa.” Her frown fades as she examines me, decked up in war gear, from the top that reveals an unfair amount of cleavage, short shorts, to my strawberry scented perfume that reminds me of her smell. “Oh. Hello.” Her eyes dilate, clearly liking what she sees.
I smile triumphantly. “Is everything okay, Jordy? You look like you had a headache.”
“Sort of. Just, you know. Lots of things to think about.” She tucks her phone away, inhales deep, then musters up a smile. “Though seeing you dressed like this has certainly cheered me up. Not bad perfume, either.” She sniffs. “Strawberry?”
“Yup. Maybe this will cheer you up more,” I reply in a sultry voice, before grabbing her by the hand and leading her to the bedroom. I can never get enough of her. Being around Jordy is like being constantly in heat. Everything about her just serves to fuel my infatuation, and I'm addicted to her smell and her looks. A woman's body is not as rough as a man's. I like both, but they just give such different tactile experiences.
I close the door behind Jordy, and proceed to work on kissing her, and taking off her clothes. I keep trying it on with her, because although she's played the dominant role each time, it doesn't stop me from pushing the lead. I know that one of these occasions she'll give in, and I'll be able to enjoy every inch of her as she lies helpless beneath me. I can tell that my attempted takeover is turning her on. A lot.
She gasps into my mouth, her blonde hair puffing as I dig my fingers into it and kiss those delicious lips of hers. Still tangled in her mouth, our tongues brushing one another, I reach for her dark hoodie, and realize she only has a baggy top underneath, and no bra. Both items come off, and her mussed up hair is adorable. I push her into the wall, pressing my body into her as the kiss gets ramped up a notch. Her front is exposed to me, and her nipples are pebbling. She has a surprisingly curvaceous body hidden underneath her shapeless clothing, and a few freckles on her collarbone, which I reach to kiss.