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When It Rains

Page 4

by Glenna Maynard


  I don’t know what she was planning on doing, but with the way she is looking at me it was nothing anything good could come from.

  “I don’t need you touching me either!” I grit through my teeth at her, afraid her touch will feel all too good. Her breasts are peeking out of the top of her low-cut shirt and I can’t help wonder how they taste. My mind is racing, wondering why I feel I’ve met her away from my family. Sure, Joe talked about her, but he never showed me a picture.

  “Fuck you buddy. You don’t know a motherfucking thing about me.”

  Her dirty mouth makes my cock jump and I have to fight the urge to shut her up with a kiss.

  I feel crazy.

  I’m in trouble.

  This is trouble.

  I’m attracted to her, and I think she feels a connection to me too. A connection that has nothing to do with Joe. Confusion is written all over her pretty face as her thick lips turn into a snarl.

  Maybe it’s lust.

  Maybe we’re both just broken and lonely.

  I come back at her with a lame response. “Yeah, I don’t want to know you either.” Slamming the door behind me, making sure to drive my point home, I walk away before I give in and kiss her.

  Moments later, I’m helping Freddie bust a few tables when I see Audrey step out of the storeroom, wiping at her eyes.

  I don’t want to care that I made her cry, but seeing her so vulnerable, I want to run to her, take her in my arms, and say I’m sorry.

  I don’t even know why.

  I don’t know her and she don’t know me.

  We manage not to cross paths the rest of the day, Audrey hangs in the back office while I stay up front. Maybe she will sell us her part of the business. There’s no reason for her to stick around. Joe’s gone, she isn’t family.

  I get ready to head back over to Ma’s for my ‘party,’ and thankfully Audrey isn’t on the guest list. I don’t know why I can’t get this chick off my mind. Maybe it’s just that she’s pretty, and I’ve not been around any attractive available women. Well, Audrey isn’t on the market, but she’s gorgeous. When I am getting ready to leave she takes to the stage to sing as the night crowd starts filing in.

  Her eyes look everywhere but at me, and damn it if I don’t want her eyes to meet mine, even though I told her I didn’t want her to stare at me.

  When she won’t it about kills me. I stay around a few minutes, curious to hear her sing.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I wasn’t prepared for a voice from the past to come out of her mouth.

  She starts out soft and low singing the song Hello, by that Adele chick.

  My mind travels back to before I enlisted.

  Three years ago

  This brown haired beauty I’ve been seeing hang around Dusty Rose’s, a low-end bar in Legacy, takes up the stool next to me. I’ve heard her sing, she has a sultry voice that caresses your senses, and you want nothing more than to listen to her all damn day and night. She can barely hold her head up right now though, she’s as drunk as I wish I were. Her eyes gloss over as they roll back in her head. She slumps against my shoulder and I bump her off. I’m not in the mood for this shit tonight of all nights. Felecia dumped me, called me a loser. Said I’d end up kicked out of boot camp within the first week. Fuck her, I don’t need her.

  My brother was supposed to come out with me tonight, but he had to study for some stupid test. Good ol’ Joe always doing the right thing. He’s never missed a day of school in his life. Not even in high school. He would never take part in skip days, afraid it would hurt his precious GPA.

  I’m proud of my brother, I wish I were more like him. One of those guys that always does the right thing. I’m not though. I’m the one that makes all the mistakes, and fucks up everything good that comes my way. The military is my last shot to prove to my family and myself that I’m more than a criminal.

  The woman next to me falls against me again, only this time her head lands in my lap. I stroke her dark hair from her face as I down the last of my beer.

  “That feels good,” she purrs, looking up at me with half-closed eyes. “Can you drive me home?”

  “Where’s home?” I question, not really interested, but her head in my lap, and her pretty mouth have my cock thinking other ideas.

  “Motel 6,” she whispers then hiccups.

  I know the motel, partied there a few times. It’s just down the street. We can walk, if she’s able.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you.” I lift her head and try to position her on the stool again. I stand up to get a twenty from my wallet to pay my tab, and she jerks upright before her head can hit the bar.

  She needs to sleep this shit off.

  “Come on,” I say gruffly taking her in my arms like were fucking newlyweds. She drifts in and out of consciousness as I walk down the sidewalk with a would be corpse, she is so damn stiff. Her head hangs over my arm, lolling from side to side as she moans low. I hope she doesn’t puke on me. We reach our destination, and I prop her up against the wall by the office. “Room number and key?”

  She reaches her hand down the top of her shirt and into her bra. I snort as she hands me a keycard. This drunken hot mess piece of ass kicks her shoes off and starts running for the pool.

  Fuck, just what I need, for her to get a second wind and drown.

  Picking up her heels, I jog to catch up with her, hooking my arms around her tiny waist before she takes the plunge into the cold water.

  “Oh no, you’re going to bed.” This chick has some spunk.

  “You going to put me there,” she says with a smirk. Her smile widens to her eyes. Damn, I didn’t realize how pretty she really is. Her dark hair frames her face and she has the most kissable thick lips.

  Her nails dig into my arm as I walk her backwards toward the room. She giggles, nearly tripping over a cement parking barrier.

  I catch her by her elbow, preventing her from falling.

  Her red lips touch against mine briefly, so soft and inviting. I have to remind myself that she’s way too intoxicated for me to let things go further, despite the hardening of my dick against the seam of my zipper begging to differ.

  I steal a glance at her key, 102. Thank God, I don’t have to walk her up the stairs. This chick is biting my ear and licking my neck as I unlock the door. She isn’t making it easy for me to put her to bed and end the night there.

  I try to put her shoes on the table while she tugs on my hand. “You gonna stop playing with my shoes and fuck me or what?” Okay, yeah she wants to, but if she wasn’t so damn drunk off her ass would she still want me?

  I get her shoes and key card on the table after a great effort and she pulls me down into the bed. You wouldn’t think someone so small could be so strong, her thick long hair, probably weighs more than she does. Her tongue is down my throat and her hands are down my pants before I can even take a breath.

  “Slow down wildcat,” I say with a chuckle as she tears at my buckle like a rabid animal. “We have all night.” I wink.

  “You’re hot,” she compliments me, running her hands up my stomach. Her touch is like a match to gasoline. My heartrate jumps through the roof; I want her so bad.

  “You too,” I reply feeling like an idiot. This hot as hell woman wants to fuck, and all I can do is feel guilty that she’s stupid drunk. Indecision is weighing on me, but I am saved from the choice when she falls back on the pillows and starts to snore.

  I roll her to her side, wrestle the covers from under her, and tuck her in. Going to the bathroom, I grab the small trashcan, placing it near her head, in case she wakes up and has to puke. Checking the mini-fridge she doesn’t have anything to drink. I know she isn’t my responsibility, but I don’t want to leave her without at least making sure she has water, and something to put on her stomach when she awakens.

  Taking the room key, I go in search of a vending machine. I find a couple of snack machines by the pool. It takes me three tries to get the machines to take my crumpled bills,
but I manage to get her some crackers, along with a bottled water.

  Back in the room, she is still sleeping soundly. I place the items on her nightstand, and debate leaving a note. In the end I decide against it, I’m leaving in a few days for boot camp, and she won’t remember a damn thing about this tomorrow.

  I kiss her forehead, turn out the light, and bid her goodnight.

  I never knew her name—until today. I wonder if she remembers that night. Funny how fate sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

  Audrey

  God! I thought that asshole would never leave, he just kept berating me, letting me know his position, like I fucking asked. Maybe it’s time I talk to Cassie about the future of the bar. I don’t think I can bear to look at Cameron, “the dick” a minute longer. He freaks me out, and I get the weirdest sensation that I know him. It’s gotta be the fact that he so closely resembles Joey. If I had met such a prick before I would remember.

  What was he expecting? He comes here looking like my dead lover and thinks I am not going to stare. It’s like caching glimpses of the man I love. So many times I wanted to walk up to him, wrap my arms around him, and hug him close to see if he smells like Joey. I know it’s wrong, but I’m drawn to his brother. I can’t seem to stop myself. He’s made me cry twice today. I can’t believe he had the nerve to speak so rudely to me.

  No compassion.

  No fucks given.

  Just hey I’m a prick, deal with it. I dealt with it all right, by ugly snot crying in the closet.

  After collecting myself I stayed in the office with my puffy eyes and runny nose for comfort. There was no need for him to be so cruel. I mean yeah, someone staring at you can be uncomfortable and awkward, but I’m grieving, and coping the best way I can.

  At least I am handling my, I’m not sure what to call it—my loss of Joey better than my break up with Austin. When he bailed on me, I drank way too much, and fucked one too many losers, until I met Joey. I try not to think about the girl I was back then.

  Sure, I drink too much when thoughts of Joey are too much, but at least I’m not taking random dick back to our apartment.

  I wouldn’t.

  I can’t.

  Joey’s memory deserves so much more than that.

  These past few months since he’s been gone, I’ve not done a very good job in keeping my shit together. Going over the books proves I’ve let my grief run the bar under. I’ve got to pick myself up, and do better for Joey’s memory. He wouldn’t want me staying drunk, and ruining what he worked so hard for.

  Resolved to turn this place and my life around, I go out front to prepare for tonight. I can’t change things overnight, but a sober performance is a start.

  I do my best to ignore Cam while I am on stage, but I can feel his daggered stare piercing my heart. It’s okay for him to gawk at me like a creeper, but not for me to do it to him I suppose. By the time I finish my second song he’s gone to his coming home party. Lewis is getting ready to take off. I promised him and Cassie I would stay and mind the bar. I know I’m not wanted there anyway. Why would I be? Things between Joey’s family and me have been odd at best since his passing, other than Cassie. I don’t exactly blame her for her argument with Joey the day he died, but I am still hurt she didn’t think I was ready to marry him.

  Sometimes I think it would be easier had she not told me that vital piece of information. I wish she had taken that to the grave. Well, let Joey take it with him. Then other nights I lie awake when it rains and wonder what if I had been pregnant when he died. I could’ve had a little Joey growing inside of me. I lay there rubbing my stomach, knowing I will never know what it feels like to carry the baby of the man I love.

  Life isn’t fair.

  It’s ugly and cruel.

  I am snapped from my thoughts by Sasha giggling. Freddie is whispering something in her ear. I knew it. I knew they had the hots for each other. It’s sweet.

  “Hey love birds,” I call out over the music. “Get back to work.” I grin and Sasha blushes.

  The kitchen is closed, but Freddie always stays around another hour or so to help wash glasses on busy nights. I wasn’t expecting much of a turn out, but it makes me happy to see us half-full. Most people want simple drinks, beer, a shot or some good whiskey and Coke.

  I’d love to have a Jack and Coke, but I am making a new promise to myself to try harder. I can’t keep running from my problems, or looking for answers at the bottom of a liquor bottle. It’s time to grow some lady balls and turn this shitstorm I have made of my life around.

  That’s my plan until hours later, when I hear Cam next door, fucking the brains out of someone, it’s either that or he’s watching some porn a bit too loud.

  Thinking about sex has my core aching, missing Joey’s touch. He still owes me. I laugh at the thought. Maybe he’ll show up in ghost form to pay the debt.

  Lying in bed, my fingers skim across my stomach as I listen to Cam grunting the sounds of a woman moaning. I miss being the one who is moaning too loudly, and getting bitched out by Cassie for her having to suffer through the sounds of her best friend, and her brother screwing.

  Joey knew just where to touch me, he was such a sensual lover.

  The first time we were together he went above and beyond to make sure I was comfortable and pleasured beyond measure. His fingers and tongue touched, licked, tasted, and caressed every inch of my body.

  On autopilot my fingers trail downward, until they find the crotch of my panties. Rubbing across my lips, I imagine Joey doing the touching. His dark chocolate eyes soft with love and determination to get me off. I think about his tongue sweeping across my clit, loving the way I taste. I bring my finger to my mouth just as he used to do with his own, and lick my finger. My other hand teases at my nipples, and I wish more than ever I hadn’t let Joey throw out my vibrator. He said I had him, I didn’t need an imitation.

  At the time I agreed, but now as I lay here getting worked up, I wish I had BOB.

  The woman getting pounded next door by my unwelcomed neighbor, screams incoherently paired with the sound of their bodies slapping together. No wonder Cassie moved across the hall away from Joey and me. Loud sex must run in the family.

  I try to ignore them and think about Joey, but I keep picturing Cam’s face instead. Even though they resemble each other, they are different in many ways. Cam’s hair is cut shorter and is slightly darker. Cam is also more muscular. Joey was in good shape, but his arms were half the size of his brothers.

  God, I miss him, his touch, his voice. Unable to concentrate on my own pleasure, I tune back in to the performance happening next door.

  He must really be giving it to her. Something hits the wall behind my head. Next I hear the smacking of Cam’s hand landing on her ass. I squeeze my thighs together. He must be doing her from behind against the wall. I can’t help but imagine how intense his eyes must be when he is fucking. I wonder if they smolder like they did when he was yelling at me earlier. My fingers are back at my pussy as I think about how he looked when he told me off. Nostrils flared, jaws clenched, eyes dark, and heated.

  Dangerous.

  Erotic.

  I hear him clearly now. “Fuck, you like it hard like that? You like it when I pull your hair and pound into you harder?”

  Cam is a talker, Joey was too.

  “Yes!” she hisses in response. They might as well be lying next to me. I can almost feel their panted breaths they are so close to where I am laying.

  My fingers are buried in my pussy, sliding in and out, working faster and harder as I rub my nipples in sync with the thrusts shaking the wall.

  “I’m so close,” he tells her.

  I want to shout, “Me too!” But I refrain and bite my lip, imagining his muscular body slamming into me with full force, filling me to the hilt, and him biting my shoulder when he climaxes. I circle my clit faster and faster wanting to get off right when he does. I pretend it’s me on the other side of the wall getting her ass smacked and
her hair pulled.

  Cassie

  I’ve been in the kitchen with Ma for three hours slaving over the stove making rolls, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans, baked beans, pasta salad. She’s driving me nuts with all this food. You’d think she was expecting Cam’s unit or something. I’m exhausted, and I am certain my makeup has melted from my face. I run out to my car to grab my makeup bag, noticing my brother hasn’t returned.

  Audrey messaged me earlier and told me what an asshole he was. I vaguely told her about his PTSD and asked her to overlook him. It will take time for him to adjust.

  I hope he doesn’t disappoint Ma. She’s had enough heartache lately. I know this is hard for Cameron, even if I don’t understand what he’s going through. His doctor said he has survivor’s guilt. I am afraid being here and coming to terms with Joe’s death is going to make him worse instead of better. And I don’t know why Ma insisted on inviting that bitch Felecia here. She doesn’t give a shit about Cameron. They dated all through high school. She was a dirty whore then and she’s still one now. She comes to the bar sometimes. Even had the audacity to make a pass at Joe before he got serious with Audrey.

  However, I put on a smile and tell her how lovely it is to see her as she gets out of her car. She’s dressed in a barely there black slip of a dress made of sheer material. I can see her nipples. Ugh! She follows me inside having come here many times over the years.

  I make a mad dash upstairs to get away from her, and reapply my makeup in my old bathroom. I can hear her fawning over Ma, her voice is carrying through the vent as she asks if she can do anything to help. She goes on and on making a spectacle of herself. “I think it’s fate that Cam is back home, and I recently divorced. He always was so handsome. I bet he’s even more fine now,” she gushes. Ugh, no, she isn’t sinking her teeth back into my brother. Not on my watch. “He’s handsome like you are dad.” She did not just call my father dad, gah. He’s Big Joe to everyone, including her sluttastic-self.

  I just know this whole night will end up being miserable. I almost wish I had asked Audrey to come. At least she’d keep Ma busy and unable to play matchmaker.

 

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