3
The next night I stood against a cold stone wall in the slutty red dress and red pumps. I had once again gone for my fuck me red lipstick and I was hoping that it would work for a second time. I checked my phone for the third time. Still no text or call from Micah. It was seven fifteen and I was starting to get worried. I didn't think he was going to show up. I told myself I would wait another five minutes, but as I saw a couple walking by hand-in-hand discussing the opening of the gallery, I couldn't take it anymore. I walked over to the street to hail a taxi when I heard a voice behind me. “That’s some dress you got there.”
I turned around and felt ecstatic as I saw Micah smiling at me. He looked me up and down and licked his lips. The slutty dress had totally done its job.
“You know some guys like to leave a little to the imagination.”
I couldn't tell if it was an insult or not.
He moved closer to me and whispered into my ear, “You're just lucky I'm not one of those guys.” I felt him slip a hand underneath my dress where he just touched the tops of the back of my thighs right under my ass. I tried to contain the heat spreading immediately from my pussy into my core. Suddenly I wanted to skip the art gallery and just go straight back to his apartment, but there was a part of me that also wanted to make him wait. He had been the tease on Saturday night, but I would be it tonight.
“Shall we go in?”
He pulled his hand out from underneath my legs and turned, extending an arm to me. I looped mine through his and we walked down the block into the gallery. It was one of those huge white spaces with benches in the middle and artwork around the edges. There was a sculpture between two white benches facing it without backs. I let go of Micah's arm as I examined it closely. It was copper, and it was ripped into shreds and made to look like a three-dimensional heart. Not like the one in your body, like the shape.
“See something you like already?”
“Yeah. It's like the heart is hard, protective somehow.”
Micah moved close to me so that our bodies just barely touched. “And how do you protect your heart, Lena?”
“I run away.”
“How does that protect you?” He slid a finger along the outside of my arm. It was a subtle touch that sent shivers down my spine.
“I don't know, running away from my problems is just something I'm good at. You know, like you're a great artist. I'm a great runner.”
He just looked at me.
“It's a skill, Micah. Protecting your heart is a skill everyone should learn.”
Suddenly he stepped back. “Why? Why do you think that way?”
“Because in the end, everyone gets hurt. In the end, we all feel pain.”
“That’s a sad realization.”
I shrugged. “Maybe, but to me it’s true.” Thinking about it, I realized this stemmed from my parents’ relationship. I had thought their love life was perfect but it ended in heartache. Somewhere I had decided almost all good relationships did. That was sad.
We both looked at the statue for a while longer. People passed us by, assuming we were admiring the art. But really we were thinking about each other. Our tryst was hot and sensual, but were we protecting our hearts? I knew the answer for myself. I was falling for Micah, and I was going to let that happen regardless of the potential pain I would be in later.
He touched me on the small of my back and led me away from the sculpture towards a group of paintings. They were beautiful drawings of flowers, painted neon colors to set them apart from the typical landscape. I had seen kids do it when I was in college, where for a while I had hung out with the artsy crowd while I was playing piano. But I hadn't really looked at art since then. It was incredible to just take a moment and look at the brushstrokes, gentle touches on a hard canvas that made it into something completely unique. I imagined it blank, the vast of the whiteness just waiting to be fulfilled by the artist’s touch. It made me wonder about Micah's work. He said he liked lines and measurements, but I knew that there was more to it. “Why did you get into architecture?”
He looked at me like I had just shaken him out of a deep thought. “It just seemed like the right thing to do.”
“What you mean?”
He smiled. “So I suck at figure drawing, but I like to draw architecture. I sent my portfolio to the art school here and they liked what I had.”
“So you kind of draw landscapes?”
“Yeah, kind of. I studied old Victorian architecture up the coast for a while before I transferred here. Actually, I know the artist that did these paintings.” He pointed to a smaller group of paintings next to the flowers. They were all industrial buildings.
“These are cool, but a lot harsher than the landscapes.”
He nodded. “Yeah she has this really steely feeling about her art. She only likes edges and lines—there aren’t any soft strokes in her work.” The only thing I had understood in what he was saying was “her.” Clearly this was an ex of his.
“So how well do you know the artist?”
He put up his hands as if in surrender. “Not as well as I know you, Lena. We dated for a little while when I first moved here but things didn't work out.”
I cocked my head to the side. “And why's that?”
He set his lips into a thin line, “Easier to show you then to explain it to you.” He spun me around and pointed at two young girls drinking coffee near the small bar that had been set up for the event. “See the girl with the long black hair? That’s Emma. And see the girl that standing next to her? That's her new girlfriend.”
I turned back at him wide-eyed. “She's a lesbian?”
He laughed. “She's bisexual. But I'm pretty sure once we got close enough to a sexual encounter she realized she preferred girls to guys though.”
I smiled in spite of myself. He looked a little hurt but I couldn't help but find it funny. Micah, the artistically sexy guy in front of me had turned the girl into a lesbian. It's just too comical. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” I said as he looked pouty. “I just can't help it! To think that some girl would be turned off by you? It's a joke, really.”
He shrugged before turning back to look at the artwork some more. “Yeah, didn't feel like a joke at the time.”
“Micah.” I moved in front of him so that I blocked his view. “Does this look like a joke?” I took his hands and put it around me so that they laid perfectly on my ass. “Does this feel like a joke?” I tucked my head into his neck and sucked on the flesh carefully. When I brought my head back up so that our eyes would match, our breathing did also. I could feel the growing bulge in his pants pushed up against my pelvis. So I wasn't the only one that was ready for a good time.
“Let's get a drink. A little liquid courage.” I gave him a confused look—it was clear that I didn't need any more courage. He took my hand and led me over to the bar, giving a slight wave to Emma as we passed. He ordered us two shots of tequila and I was shocked to see that they had it. He raised a small glass in the air. “To us.”
I smiled at him. “To us.”
He sucked his down in a second, whereas it took me a little bit longer to get the fire down my throat and into my belly. As soon as I set the glass down he grabbed my hand and walked briskly through the art gallery to a sign that said EXIT. I was liking where this was going. He looked both ways before pulling me through the door and into a dark hallway. The only light that was available was a red blinking lights for emergencies. “I can't believe you just did that! You could've set off the alarm!”
He shook his head. “There is no sign on the door that said there was an alarm. I knew we would be safe.” I was about to start protesting again when he took both of my wrists in one hand and pinned me up against the exposed brick wall. He was kissing the inside of my neck and down my exposed chest. The dress was strapless and my breasts were just barely contained within it. I closed my eyes in ecstasy as his lips trailed down to my breasts, where he used his other hand to pull down the dress and expose a s
trapless black bra. When he saw what I was wearing, he knew that the dress wasn't just for show. He suckled his way back up to my lips and chewed on my lower lip for a moment, causing painful pleasure to travel through my mouth. “Why do you do these things to me, Lena?”
“Do what?” I breathed.
“Make me want to end it and then make me want to fuck you until you’re sore.”
He loosened the tie that he had been wearing. He took a step back to assess me but he kept my hands above my head. He pulled off the tie and wrapped it around my wrists. “You keep those there, you hear me?”
I could only nod. As my hands remained above my body he lifted up my dress and started drawing circles on my mound outside of the black silk panties I was wearing. “You've been a bad girl, Lena, leaving me for another guy. I guess I need to remind you why you shouldn't be thinking of anyone else but me.”
My breath caught in my chest. All that I wanted was for Micah to fuck me, and I knew it was coming—which made it even worse. He continued to draw circles along the outside of my underwear and occasionally he would put his hand on the inside of my thigh and rub between my legs. I felt exposed. If anyone should come through that door they would see my hands above my head and Micah pulling down my underwear to my knees. I had to admit being exposed turned me on. At any moment we could be caught. It was titillating.
As he bent down to pull them down to the floor he put his head up between my legs and gave me a quick lick. It was just enough to send heat through all of my veins. Micah made me feel like I was on fire. And he was the only one who could put it out. I stepped out of my underwear and he threw them to the side. He dragged his fingertips along the outside of my leg slowly and dutifully all the way up to my hip. He got close to my ear and whispered to me, “Do you want me to fuck you?”
I nodded. “Yes. Please fuck me.”
He undid his belt buckle and dropped his pants and his boxers. I heard the belt hit the ground with a clink. In echoed in the empty hallway. He pulled me just slightly away from the wall and lifted my legs up around him, putting his hands underneath my ass. I crossed my legs behind him and slid myself onto his cock. There was a pipe just above my reach, and when he pushed me up onto him I grabbed onto the pipe. He banged me against the wall, and using his pelvis he pushed deep into me. He rammed me again and again while I begged for more. “Harder, Micah, fuck me harder.”
Just as I was on the edge of coming he put my legs back down and slid out of me. I looked at him with wide eyes—was he not going to fulfill my need? He hadn’t come either. Why would he make either of us wait?
He rubbed his finger against my lips. He slipped his pointer finger in my mouth and I sucked on it, allowing my tongue to envelop it. Then he slipped his middle finger and pointer finger in my mouth, and again I sucked as hard as I could. When he pulled them back out he dragged them down my body and over my dress until he reached my pussy. He shoved the two figures in and I cried out. “Yes! Fuck me.”
But immediately he pulled his fingers back out and licked them himself. “You taste just as sweet as you did the other night.”
I could hardly breathe. I was so turned on I felt like I would explode at any second. He took my raised hands and pulled me away from the wall. The hallway was narrow and he pushed me so that my chest was against the opposite wall. He stood behind me and whispered, “Bend over. I want to see that ass shake.”
I did as I was told but I kept my arms above my head. He leaned against me and pushed his cock between my wet pussy lips. I arched my back and closed my eyes. He pulled all the way out and teased me more. When he pushed in again I knew I didn't have much time. “Please Micah, let me come.”
He pushed his dick back into me, this time more forcefully. He pulled out again but this time he didn't pull out all the way. He quickened his pace and as I sat on the edge of my orgasm as I let the ripples flow through me. There was a fierceness to Micah when it came to sex that I had never experienced before. I was all his and he wouldn't have it any other way. He pushed into my ass again and again and I could feel the slap of his skin against mine. Quickly I felt him come inside me, filling me with the hot sticky substance. I pushed my ass back against him one final time and my knees gave out as an orgasm shook through me. He put his arm underneath my stomach to hold me up against him and my legs shook with excitement. He pulled me up back against him and held most of my weight on his own. “That's for Saturday night.”
I could hardly breathe as I leaned back against him.
“Next time, don't choose someone else over me,” he whispered hotly in my ear.
I didn't speak. Mostly because I couldn't, but also because I didn't know what to say. Micah had claimed to me so quickly, but did my heart have any other choice in the matter? I wasn't going to think about it now. All that I was going to think about was Micah in this hallway and the blinking red light and the coma that followed our moment of pleasure.
4
On Wednesday morning I woke up extra early to make sure that I could get ready before I got Mackenzie out of bed. In so many ways I was still her mother. Even though we weren't in Florida anymore, I felt like I was still responsible for her. After I put on a pair of capris and a white button up shirt, trying to look like I had my shit together, I ran into her room and flopped down on the bed next to her. I was still flying high from my date with Micah; we had been texting ever since and made plans. “It's time to get up! We've got to go to the bridal shop to try on dresses.”
She barely stirred. “Kenz, you've got to get up. Charity’s going to freak out if we miss her ten o'clock appointment. I'll grab something out of your closet for you. You’ve got five minutes to get out of this bed and get into the shower.”
I got up off of her bed and started rooting through her closet and dresser to find something appropriate to wear to a bridal salon. Finally I settled on a mustard colored dress that covered up her boobs. My sister was built like a Barbie doll, but this wasn't really the time or place to show that off.
“Mackenzie, get up now,” I said, shaking her once more and dangling the dress in front of her.
She rubbed her eyes and looked at me for the first time. “Why are you wearing white?”
“What?”
She sat up slowly. “I said why are you wearing white? People are going to think that you're the bride. And you're not, and Charity is not going like the attention that’s going to give you.”
She had a point. “Fine, I’ll go change my top after you get in the shower. Come on! I don't want us to be late.”
She dragged her body out of the bed and made her way over to our shared bathroom. I heard the water turn on the way and I walked back to my room to pick out a different top. I settled on short-sleeved mint shirt, at least now I looked more like a bridesmaid then a bride.
As Mackenzie got dressed I asked about Mom. I still hadn’t heard the official verdict on the boyfriend situation.
“Hey, have you heard from Mom?” I inquired as she finished her makeup.
“Nah, she’s got some big fundraiser for the company. I don’t think she’ll be around much before we go home.”
“Okay.”
She popped her head out of the bathroom. “She hasn’t mentioned the boyfriend yet, promise.”
She knew me too well. “Okay, good. I hope she tells us together.”
“Yeah me too,” she agreed. “I don’t really want to tell you Mom’s dirty secrets. That would just be weird.”
Sisterly love right there.
“Yeah it would.”
We took a taxi to the shop. Charity was already at work with her Jag. After I paid the driver, we turned around to see the largest wedding shop I'd ever seen in my life. It was at least three stories high with mannequins in every window.
“Well this is going to be a blast,” Mackenzie said sarcastically.
“Hey, we've got to try here. I don't like her as much as you don't, but we’re stuck with her. And if we make this even worse, today is going to
be straight up unbearable. So put a smile on that cute little face of yours and suck it up.”
Mackenzie hung her head, her shoulders slumped forward, but I could tell that she was resigned to helping me get through this day. I walked toward the shop and held the door open for her. As soon as we entered we were surrounded by attendants.
“Oh, you two must be Charity’s new stepdaughters!”
“Oh, you both are so beautiful.”
“I thought she said the older one was a little bit smaller,” one said to another. Nice.
They were all dressed in professional black clothes and looked super put together. This place felt expensive. Right up Charity’s alley. This day was going to go exactly how I expected. Charity pushed through the attendants and gave us both huge hugs, squeezing us tightly like we belonged to her. It was uncomfortable. Mackenzie rolled her eyes at me as Charity embraced her.
“Charity, why don't we get started with the appointment? I know Mackenzie is a mess when she’s hungry, and you did promise lunch.”
She let go of my little sister and clapped her hands together, “Of course! Just wait until you see these dresses, you are just going to die.”
We walked upstairs past at least a thousand yards of tulle to see two mannequins at the end of a large room. And she was right, I was going to die.
“Neon pink?” I could hear the disgust dripping from Mackenzie's words. “You thought that having bridesmaids in neon pink was a good idea?”
I couldn't hide Mackenzie's feelings, or mine. The dresses were hideous. Not only were they neon pink but they were skintight with a gigantic bow on the back covering our asses. They looked like something a hooker would wear, not to a huge wedding. I looked at Charity as her face fell. “You don't like them?”
Misperception (Finnegan Brothers Book 3) Page 2