Blue Persuasion

by Blakely Bennett

  “Never happening,” I said, raising an eyebrow and laughing.

  “So sexy, I had to try.” He tugged the chain, causing me to groan. As he nipped his way up my right thigh, I yelped over the duel sensations. The tip of his tongue finally flicked across my clit, while his left hand wrapped around the back of my upper leg, and his right held the chain taut, forcing my nipples down.

  My body shook as he took my swollen nub into his mouth and sucked as his tongue danced around my entrance. He paused and I moaned from the loss of the heat of his mouth.

  “Lean back against the cabinets and bring your pussy right to the edge, legs spread wide.”

  I shifted my hips forward and placed my feet on either side of me, spreading my legs as wide as possible.

  “So fucking sexy, Blue.” He spread my wetness from my pussy onto my ass and spit to add more lubrication. Just before dipping his head back down, he said, “Take care of those nipples for me.” His mouth lowered as his finger penetrated my ass.

  “It’s going to get wet,” I cried, rolling my blood-filled peaks between my fingers.

  His mouth and hands knew what to do to prolong the climb and intensify the release. He swirled his tongue around the folds of my pussy, finally centering on my clit. He licked it soft and slow as he worked a second finger into my ass. Then he increased the pressure of his tongue and the propulsion of his fingers.

  “Oh, holy hell, Bond, I can’t hold it...” A geyser erupted out of me as my orgasm rapidly fired. My heart pounded as light shot from behind my eyes. I struggled to stay on the counter, my legs dropping over the side.

  Bond scooped me up and easily carried me into his bedroom. He stripped and lay on his back on the center of the bed, beckoning me with his hand. As I pulled the dress over my head and stumbled on weak knees, he rolled a condom onto his shaft. I climbed on top, straddling his firm cock. He guided me down, and set the pace with his hands, fingers digging into my hips.

  I played with the chain between my nipples, staring straight down at his grinning mouth. He took my right hand and placed it over my pussy. He tugged the chain as I leaned back on my left hand, circling my hips in time with my fingers on my clit.

  “So damn sexy, Blue. Give it to me. I want you to cum again for me.”

  The closer I came to the tipoff, my eyes lost focus and rolled up into my head. I could still see Bond’s sexy smile and his ultimate acceptance, even with my lids shut tight. Just as the orgasm swam over me, I opened my eyes and hooked Bond’s gaze. “For you, now!”

  “Give it to me,” he said, taking control of the pace again, roaring his release, just chasing after mine.

  I collapsed over his chest, both of us breathing heavily.

  Bond then shifted to the side, removed the condom and tossed it in the trash. He situated me back on top of him, running his fingers down my spine. “Damn, that was good. You seemed more open tonight.”

  “Did I?” I said, snuggling in close, my head on his chest. “I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Okay.” He wrapped his arms around me.

  I inclined my head to watch his reaction. “Are you okay with me inviting someone to our get-together on Wednesday?”

  “Male or female?”

  I shoved his shoulder. Then I crossed my hands over his chest and rested my chin. “It’s a man that Cat tattoos. He’s a big, hulking Native American, large like Red. Bigger I think. Cat thinks he and I should be friends.”

  “What do you think?”

  “He seems very ... I don’t know ... closed off. Maybe that’s just with me.”

  “You like him,” Bond stated, sitting up and situating me on his lap.

  “I don’t know him at all. He fires off all my warning alarms. Big, confident, distant. The more I talk about it, the less I understand why I’m even considering it.”

  “Invite him.”

  “Did you not hear what I just said?” I asked, crawling off his lap and crossing my legs.

  “Blue, I want you to be happy.”

  “You aren’t listening, Bond. Besides, he isn’t open to anything more than friendship anyway. This guy isn’t potential.”

  “I am listening, beyond your words. You can’t use this, us, to keep you back.”

  I slapped my thighs with my palms. “Back from what? Never mind. Why are men so fucking frustrating? I think he is only doing it because Cat put him up to it.”

  “Invite him. I want to meet him.”

  “I’m going to go,” I chuffed, moving to get off the bed.

  “Don’t be mad at me,” he pleaded, grabbing my arm.

  “Do you know how often you say that to me? Would it be so much to ask that you be a little jealous instead of pushing me on someone who doesn’t even want me?”

  “He wants you. He might not want to want you, but make no mistake, he ... wants ... you.”

  “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” I threw his hand off me but didn’t move to leave.

  “I know our situation isn’t easy on you. I live it daily with Red and Jacqs. I get it.”

  “You don’t have to hide it.”

  “That’s true.” He stroked my cheek. “I love you, Blue. You know that and ... you also know we’re temporary. You help me survive my crazy threesome situation, and I keep you from being sexually starved and lonely. Maybe I’ll be jealous when I meet him.”

  “Yeah, right. I know you’re right but... Forget it.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Invite him on the very off chance that it pisses you off!”

  “Very funny. Come here.” He scooped me back up in his arms and rocked me back and forth, his warm breath against my cheek.

  We gently kissed for a while and then I got up to leave.

  “I’m going to head home. I want to do some writing before work tomorrow, which is a double shift. See you on Wednesday.”

  Bond walked me out and hugged me by the door. “See you Wednesday.”

  Melancholy followed me to my car. I didn’t think it would be the last time Bond and I would spend intimate time together but for some reason, the end felt much closer. Tears struggled for their release as I fought with the driver’s side door to get in.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Waves

  by Mr. Probz

  No writing happened before work. I did get one thing off my list though: texting Tate. I rewrote the text several times before settling on:

  Me: We’re all gathering at Red’s at 7 p.m. tomorrow night. I’ll send the exact address soon (don’t know it off the top of my head).

  Tate: What should I bring?

  Me: They usually have beer and hard lemonade or cider to drink. If you like a particular kind of beer, you can bring that or a snack.

  Tate: Okay. See you then.

  Then I texted Cat.

  Me: I invited him. Would you mind sending him Red’s street address? I don’t know it off hand.

  Catherine: Consider it done. Lainie will be so excited.

  When I texted back, I pulled Lainie into the conversation.

  Me: You told Lainie?

  Lainie: I’m assuming you mean about Tate. Yes, everyone knows.

  Me: Jesus Christ, people. Do not embarrass me. This is not a date!

  Lainie: Of course, I won’t.

  Catherine: But I might.

  Me: Death by boobs, coming your way, Cat.

  Catherine: Good thing I have nine lives.

  Lainie: Lucky for you. Don’t worry, Blue, I’ll make her behave.

  Me: Is Stay coming?

  Lainie: All the usual suspects plan to be there.

  Me: Great...

  Lainie: It’ll be fine.

  Me: Especially if I don’t show.

  Catherine: Don’t even think about it.

  Me: I’m off to work. See you bitches later.

  Catherine: Later.

  Lainie: Later.

  ♥♥♥♥♥

  On Tuesday, The Chart House wasn’t its usually
bustling self for lunch. The stormy weather seemed to keep the regular customers away. Fortunately, the skies cleared by dinnertime and I did okay overall. A coworker asked me to cover her dinner shift for Wednesday night, and I almost said yes. However, something, or more like someone, kept me from taking her shift.

  By the end of lunch on Wednesday, a firm knot had formed in my gut. I decided to strap my breasts down as well as I could manage and take a late afternoon step aerobics class.

  My elevated heart rate, along with the good sweat, helped me garner some control over my emotions. He’s just a man. One I don’t particularly know or like. My friends will be around, and who cares what he thinks. I don’t have to share my writing if I don’t want to. He’s nobody to me.

  Once home and showered, I couldn’t decide what I wanted to wear. No makeup for sure. Back and forth I shifted hangers, hoping something would jump out at me. We would probably sit outside part of the time, and it was warm as hell. I decided to dress as I normally would. I threw on a pair of short black shorts, a tight, white sports bra with a loose-fitting, pink tank top that mostly covered the shorts.

  I debated whether it would be better to get there early, before him or after. After won out. At about 7:15 p.m., I slipped into my black flip-flops, grabbed my cell phone, the chapter from my novel, a bag of Kettle chips, and my driver’s license.

  When I arrived at Red’s, I spotted a red Harley parked on the side of the road, the chrome engine sparkling clean. I parked away from the bike and left my driver’s license and the pages in the car.

  Red’s cream-colored home with multiple arching windows and a red, barrel tile roof had a long circular drive and tall palms out front.

  Just before entering, I berated myself for making the occasion more important than it should be. I struggled to shrug off my judgment of myself. I trust myself. I’m safe and sound. I trust myself. I’m safe and sound. “Okay, let’s get this over with,” I said aloud to myself and then turned the door handle.

  I opened Red’s door and passed through the front sitting room. The hardwood floors shined as I strolled through the wide doors, under the high ceilings, and made my way to the kitchen. Why didn’t I bring a bottle of tequila? I thought. I really could’ve used a shot.

  The large, open space had a counter that ran from the opening to the back wall, cabinets above and below. The sink faced an outside window, the refrigerator situated between the dishwasher and the stove. Next to the swinging door that led to the dining room was a walk-in pantry with an extra freezer.

  I rummaged in an underneath cabinet for a bowl. Finding one, I poured the chips into it and set it on the counter. When I looked up, I saw that most of the gang sat outside around the pool. Samantha and Tate chatted on the inside couch, facing the back of the house.

  See, he can smile, just apparently not with me.

  Samantha and I physically had nothing in common. She had a slight frame, long legs, flowy, white-blonde hair, and blue-green eyes like her sister, Jacqs, all which made her look younger than her twenty-five years.

  I observed Tate laughing at something Sam said and then he caught me watching him. I quickly turned away and made a beeline to the fridge, my back facing them.

  “I wondered if you’d show,” he mused, standing way too close.

  My adrenaline fired as I spun around, still holding onto the refrigerator door. He appeared to have made more of an effort in dressing. His loose-fit, dark-blue jeans looked new and his pale-green dress shirt looked pressed. He checked me out as I scanned his appearance.

  “Are there shorts under there?” he asked, lifting the hem of my tank, grazing my thigh with his fingertip. His touch singed my skin, and my wayward nipples jumped to attention.

  Our eyes locked, and I could have sworn a brief smile flirted on his lips. Was he playing with me? “What do you want?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?” His eyebrows drew together in a look of confusion.

  Finally! I had knocked him off his game. “A drink?”

  “I’m good,” he said, holding up his beer.

  I grabbed a hard apple cider and popped the top off with the church key hanging from a magnet on the fridge. “Have you met everyone?”

  Our eyes connected once again.

  “Yes. Cat did the introductions.” His stare bore into me. This man didn’t just look at me, he infiltrated me and I didn’t like it, but neither would I back down.

  “Great,” I said as I glowered back at him.

  “Who is Bond to you?” he asked, leaning against the counter near the sink.

  “How do you mean?” I mirrored his posture.

  “He seemed to grill me the most.”

  I did my damnedest to suppress a smile. “Does that mean you’ve been grilled by everyone?”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Everyone but Sam.”

  “Bond is the one who brought most of us together. He thinks it’s his job to look after the group.” I took a sip from my cider and slowly set it on the counter, all the while maintaining our eye lock.

  “Again, no answer. Clearly, more than you want to let on.” He stood up straight and took a swallow of his beer.

  “What makes you think Bond’s grilling has anything at all to do with me? We’re all friends and have been for a long time.”

  “He asked about my intentions.” He dipped his head, his long hair falling forward, and yet his eyes remained glued to mine.

  “I’ll kill him.” I shook my head. “I told him there was no potential between us.”

  He raised his right eyebrow. “You and Bond?”

  “Oh my god, no. You and me.”

  “I see.”

  “Is it always going to be this way?” I blurted out.

  “What way?”

  “Difficult. What is it about me? I saw you with Sam. You smiled and actually laughed. With me, you just have this pinched, gruff expression, like I stepped on your insole.”

  Then he laughed and I knew he was laughing at me.

  Great!

  He continued his relentless stare. Just as soon as his laughter subsided, the groove right above his nose returned, as did the downturn of his lips.

  “What!”

  “Later.” He finally looked away and for a moment, I felt vindicated until I realized that Bond and Red stood next to me.

  “Coming outside?” Bond asked as he retrieved two beers and a cider from the fridge. He placed the drinks on the counter and swept me up in a hug. “Not sure about him,” he whispered into my ear as he placed me back down.

  Glancing up, I saw a new expression on Tate’s face, this one more confusing than the rest. At a loss, I turned to Red who hugged me as well. “Jacqs is dying to talk to you.”

  Taking my cue, I grabbed my bottle of cider and headed toward the French doors, having to pass closely by Tate to get out. He touched my waist and in that moment, I knew he felt it too. Enough space existed between us. He did it on purpose. Before the night was out, I planned to confront his bullshit.

  Out back, I took a deep breath, allowing the warm wind to flow through my hair. Finally relaxed again, it wasn’t hard to see that Tate turned me into a stress ball, the exact opposite of what I was looking for. It was time for Tate to find another place to land. Fortunately, Bond seemed to be on the same page.

  Before I had a chance to greet everyone, Jacqs grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the swinging loveseat. “Tell me everything!” she said, rubbing her hands together.

  “There isn’t anything to tell. This was all Cat’s doing. He isn’t looking for a relationship, and he isn’t even remotely my type.”

  “What?” she practically yelled, throwing her hands up. “That man is undeniably hot and intelligent. What the hell is wrong with him?”

  “I seem to put him on edge, and not in a good way. Don’t you find him standoffish and aloof?”

  “No, not at all. He seemed really friendly up until the time Bond drilled him with questions.”

  “Well, he i
s with me. Don’t get attached, I have no plans of inviting him again.”

  Jacqs lowered her shoulders. “I had such high hopes. Oh well. Sorry, Blue.”

  “No worries at all. Men and me, we’ve got issues.”

  Jacqs laughed. “Nah, you just need to find the right one ... or two.”

  “You’re a right comedian, you are. One would be nice, but at some point I just have to be realistic.” I leaned back, watching Tate join our friends by the pool as the swing rocked.

  “That’s a load of crap. You’re still plenty young. It’s not like the 1800s where you would be considered a spinster.”

  “If you’re trying to make me feel better—” I kicked the ground so we continued to sway.

  “Me, I’d be considered a whore or a courtesan.”

  Tate glanced back at me just as Lainie crossed between us, heading our way.

  “I think it’s time to give your historical romances a rest,” I said to Jacqs.

  “Maybe, but I’m not giving up hope for you!”

  “Carry on, if you must, but keep it quiet.” I stood up and gave Lainie a hug.

  As statuesque as ever, Lainie towered over us both. She had taken to wearing her sandy-brown hair wavy. Finding love with Stayman had certainly softened her demeanor. She seemed happy. It was hard for me not to be envious.

  Jacqs headed back to the group.

  “It’s nothing,” I said to Lainie.

  “The way he watches you? I’d say it’s something.”

  “It might be something, but nothing that would lean toward a good outcome.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. Stayman invited him over to our place. I assumed you would be coming too.”

  “You know what they say about assumptions...”

  “Gotcha.” She took the empty bottle from my hand and asked, “Another?”

  “Yes, thanks.” I took a deep breath and strolled over to the pool.