Heat Wave: A Summer Loving Anthology

by Anthology

  “You look like shit,” I laugh.

  “You don’t look so hot yourself, big brother,” she punches me in the arm. “Why do you look like you pulled another all-nighter?”

  “I just haven’t slept very well,” I reply and look away.

  “Huh. Couldn’t sleep or couldn’t stop dreaming?” she narrows her eyes at me.

  My head jerks in her direction and I stare at her as I try to determine what she knows.

  “You still talk in your sleep, Jagger,” Cass laughs her evil laugh. “So, who took Mali away from you?”

  “What?” I ask as I search my memory. Yeah, I dreamed about Mali all night. Again. One dream led to another one and I woke up every night at least a million times.

  “You said ‘I can’t lose her,’ very clearly,” Cass relayed.

  “I don’t remember that. How do you know I meant Mali?”

  “You said her name before that, but you mumbled so I couldn’t make out what you said.”

  “Why are you stalking me in my sleep? That’s weird. Really weird,” I chastise her and pour her coffee.

  “Whatever, big bro. You were loud and woke me up. When I wake up, I have to get up and pee. Keep your trap shut tonight and we won’t have this problem again,” Cass says as she takes her coffee mug to the table.

  An hour later, I’ve showered, drank enough coffee to bathe in, and I’m walking out the door for work. I give guitar lessons to aspiring musicians at a high-end music store. Translation: I teach spoiled brats, whose parents pawn them off on me to babysit, how to play the guitar. They then go home and drive their parents crazy with their inability to play anything remotely coherent.

  I get paid well enough for it and I actually do love it, especially with the people who are a natural. Watching their talent develop is the best. But today my mind keeps wandering to a certain little brunette who is supposed to rock my world tonight.

  While the current client plays his practice chords, I pull out my phone and send her a naughty text. I know she’s in the water today so it’ll be a while before she can answer, but at least it’ll be waiting for her. We’ve texted every night and she’s gotten a little braver with each conversation. I’m slowly winning her over to the dark side.

  IOU several orgasms. Didn’t keep my promise the other night.

  The three little dots show on my screen, showing me she’s typing a reply back to me.

  “What are you smiling about? Am I doing good?” the kid asks me.

  “Um, yeah, you’re doing great. Keep going,” I tell him.

  Mali: You get one pass. Only bc I feel bad you haven’t had your first one yet. After that, all bets are off.

  Me: We can always skip the jazz club.

  Mali: No way. Already picked out my outfit.

  Me: Are you texting wet?

  The three dots show, then disappear. Then show. Then disappear. Now they’re back again.

  Mali: Oh, I’m wet. But I haven’t been in the pool yet.

  “Ah, shit,” I exclaim. The kid beside me nearly jumps out of his chair.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, man. I just remembered something I was supposed to do,” I lie. “Keep going.”

  Me: You made me say a bad word. I’m collecting my due tonight.

  Mali: You’re sure playing hard to get. LOL

  Me: You’ll see hard tonight all right.

  Mali: Promises. Time for my total body lubricant. TTYL

  Shit. Now I can’t wait for this day to be over with so I can see her again. It’s been a long week of cold showers and not seeing her while I spent time with my family.

  Her practice schedule is grueling and she’s usually worn out at the end of the day. My band practices at night and we play at the nightclub Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights. Our schedule makes it difficult to spend much time together during the week. Still, every night after our ritual texts, I consider just showing up at her condo.

  Finally, after endless hours of listening to others mutilate the sweet sounds the guitar is designed to make, it’s time to leave and meet Mali. I hurry home, shower, change clothes, and rush toward the front door.

  “Going to see Mali?” Mom asks.

  “Yeah, sorry to run out on you again,” I apologize.

  “No need to be sorry. Go finish falling in love with her,” she urges.

  “Mom,” I groan. “I’m not in love with her.”

  “Jagger, I’m your mom. I raised you. You can’t always see the truth about yourself. Stop fighting it and just let it happen. It’s easy,” she advises. “What are you waiting for?”

  “I don’t know, Mom,” I admit. “I don’t know that I’m waiting for anything. I like spending time with her. It’s not love though.”

  “Don’t wait so long to realize it that she moves on without you. You’ll always think of her as the one that got away then,” Mom replies. Her voice is full of sympathy, like it’s already happened.

  Her words stay with me all the way to The Vine Room. She thinks I’m in love with Mali after a few weeks of pretend dating. That’s ludicrous. I arrive at the club ten minutes early. Perfect for me to have a drink before she gets here. I choose a booth that’s private and in the shadows of the low lighting.

  I’m sipping on a tumbler of bourbon when the air around me sparks with electricity. She’s here. I feel her before I see her. My eyes scan the room, looking for the source of my increased heart rate. What the hell is wrong with me? I never get worked up over a girl.

  It’s from going so long without sex. That’s what makes a sane man lose his shit, walk down the aisle to say I do, and give up exciting and gratifying sex for the rest of his life. Just the prospect of having sex again after an extended dry spell can make a man do something completely stupid. That’ll never be me.

  And there she is.

  I’m not that guy. The man who’ll promise her the fucking moon and stars for all eternity in return for one night of unbridled passion. See my point? Who the fuck thinks ‘unbridled passion’ in this generation? To keep my man-card, I have to amend that thought. She can have every fucking star in the sky if I can fuck her fifty ways to Sunday all in one night. This very night. Tonight.

  I thought she’d be nervous when she walked in a strange place alone. She’s actually just the opposite. She’s confident, poised, and so fucking beautiful my chest hurts from the squeezing sensation. Maybe the pain is from a lack of air since my brain has forgotten to tell my body to breathe.

  Another man approaches her, obviously flirting with her, and offers to buy her a drink and I’m instantly on alert. Her warm smile lights up her face as she lets him down easy. He mutters something about a ‘lucky fucking bastard’ as he turns away from her. That’s me he’s referring to, I think smugly. When her eyes land on mine, I feel the arc of electricity pass between us but she’s definitely the one in charge tonight.

  Her hips sway seductively in her little black dress as she walks directly to me. To me. Not the vacant side of the booth. She bends at the waist and the plunging V of her dress gapes open, giving me an unobstructed view and an uncontrollable salivation problem. Her soft lips land on mine and I use all of my might to not throw her on the table when her tongue lightly licks across my lips.

  Shit, I’m ready to leave right now. Fuck the rest of her seduction lesson. Fuck the small talk, dinner, and drinks. Fuck her the rest of the night, that’s all I want to do.

  “Hello, Jagger,” her voice hums seductively. “I’ve missed that so much.”

  “What?” I intelligently reply.

  “Your kiss.” She smiles as she swipes her thumb across my lips to wipe her lipstick off me.

  I grab her wrist to stop her. “I didn’t get enough,” I say as I pull her to me and bury my tongue in her mouth. She responds in kind and before long I hear uncomfortable laughs around us. They remind me I’m in a public place thinking about doing very private things.

  “You’ve missed me,” she smiles and slides into the
booth seat beside me.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” I compliment her and avoid admitting the obvious. Her smile falters for a split second and I feel like shit. Then I remind myself what this really is between us. Repeatedly remind myself.

  “Thank you. You look very handsome, Jagger,” she looks at me admiringly. “What are you having?”

  “Bourbon. Would you like me to order you one?”

  “I remember the last time you ordered a drink for me. Maybe I should order this one,” she laughs. “But then again, I haven’t forgotten that you owe me several screaming orgasms.”

  She laid that on me just as I took a sip of my drink. After my sputtering and coughing fit, I collect myself and wrap my arm around her shoulders. I lean in close to whisper in her ear, “I haven’t forgotten either. Would you like your first one right now?”

  I trail my fingertips up her bare thigh to the hem of her dress. Chills fan out across her skin like ripples in water. Her chest rises and falls in quick succession as her desire takes a toll on her. My hand inches up, barely brushing the sensitive skin of her upper thigh as she inhales a deep breath.

  “I’m supposed to seduce you, remember? Not the other way around,” she says breathlessly. She covers my hand with hers and effectively halts my progress.

  “I definitely remember,” I reply. “Seems I let go of my self-control when I’m around you. I give in to demands that are completely against my character. I agree to your crazy requests, against my better judgment.”

  I’m obviously losing my touch because she took that statement completely wrong. I see it in her face, I feel it in the tenseness of her body, and I sense it in her mood change.

  “Jagger,” her eyebrows draw downward as her eyes dart between mine, “at any time you want out of this, all I ask is you tell me before you’re with someone else. If this time apart made you regret your decision, we’ll stop now.”

  She picks up her small purse from the table and begins to slide out of the booth. This is my chance to walk away clean before my judgment is further clouded. Snuggling with her in her apartment, our daily texts, spending non-intercourse related time with her, and thinking about her at odd times of the day–all of this is foreign to me.

  She slowly stands and the conversation with my band springs to my mind. If Milo doesn’t sign us, they’ll blame me for letting her go. They’ll say he took his revenge out on us for his daughter’s broken heart. While I seriously don’t think Mali is capable of doing that to us, Milo definitely is and would do it in a heartbeat.

  “Mali,” I call to her and she stops. “I did miss you this week. And the past two weeks.”

  The hopeful expression in her eyes kills me. Cass was right when she said Mali couldn’t do this without becoming attached to me. I’m such a shithead.

  Disbelief clouds her eyes, replacing the hope that was just there. “You missed me?”

  She doesn’t sound convinced.

  “I did,” I nod. “And I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I meant your persuasion skills are already pretty effective. When I said you make me lose my self-control and get me to agree to things, that was a compliment to you. Not many people can make those claims.”

  She takes her seat again but the playful, affectionate Mali is gone. All-business Mali has taken her place. “By all means then, finish what you started,” she challenges.

  She’s purposely distancing herself from me.

  I’m already losing her.

  “Mali,” I say, my tone both a warning and a plea.

  “Maybe what you said earlier today was spot on,” she replies, ignoring my unspoken request.

  “What’s that?”

  “We should skip the jazz club. Let’s go to my place now.”

  Without waiting for my reply, she grabs her purse, suddenly stands, and quickly walks out the door. I throw a few bills on the table to cover my tab and follow her outside. I step outside the club just in time to see her car pull away from the curb.

  She stops when she sees me. “I’ll tell the guard to expect you.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MALI

  “I MUST BE THE DUMBEST person on Earth.” I strike the steering wheel in anger with the side of my fist. “I knew better. This was my fucking idea. It’s not fair for me to be disappointed in him.”

  I openly talk to myself even more as my foot presses harder on the accelerator, propelling me faster and faster toward the condo. Now I feel like an idiot for causing a scene at the club and I want to make it up to him.

  I’m going to blame my outburst on sexual frustration. He’s supposed to help me shed my inhibitions like the one-night stand sleazebag Jennifer said he is. He slept with me–and literally only slept all night. He’s been sweet, attentive, and affectionate. Then he’s a jerk, distant, and crass. It’s like every step forward we take sends us back two.

  Now that I know what I need to do, and I have a somewhat of a plan forming, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands. Maybe this was part of his plan all along-drive me crazy with sexual frustration until I snap.

  “Well, game on, Jagger. Bring your first string tonight because I’m not in the mood for bench warmers.”

  I tell the guard that Jagger will be along in a few minutes and rush to have enough time to prepare for my idea. One way or another, we’re taking the next step in this agreement. Once inside my condo, I begin stripping my clothes off and leave them lying on the floor where they land. It’s a breadcrumb trail for him to find me.

  After I light several candles around my bedroom, I position myself in the center of the bed and send him a quick text.

  Me: Door’s unlocked. Lock it when you get here.

  I’m surprised when my phone pings with a text.

  Him: Should I be scared?

  Me: Yep, if you don’t hurry your ass up here.

  Him: Walking in now. Be gentle with me.

  Me: Not a chance in hell.

  The front door opens and I hear his chuckle as he reads my reply. At least he’s not mad about my erratic behavior tonight. His laughter stops and I assume he’s found the trail of my shoes, dress, panties, and bra.

  “Is there a prize at the end of this treasure hunt?” he asks from the hall.

  When he steps into the doorway of my bedroom, he stops in his tracks as his eyes roam over my body. He takes his time, soaking in every detail of my exposure. His white knuckles from his tight fists are the only evidence of how much he’s affected.

  “You tell me,” I reply with a sly smile.

  “Fuck yeah,” he growls. “I’m confused, though. I thought you were mad at me.”

  He slowly moves toward me, still feasting on me with his eyes.

  “Not mad.”

  “Then what?”

  Now his knee is propped on the end of the bed.

  “Frustrated.”

  “What did I do?” he absently asks as he kicks off his shoes.

  “It’s what you haven’t done. It’s time to deliver on the many screaming orgasms you owe me.”

  As he crawls up my body, he positions his arms and legs on either side of me. He lightly brushes his nose and lips against my skin starting at the top of my foot, up my leg, and then lingers at my hip. The anticipation of where he’ll go next kills me. He continues up my stomach, across my breast, and stops at my mouth.

  “I’ve memorized the scent and the feel of your skin. Fantasized about licking every inch of you. Thought about you being alone in this bed when I could’ve been here with you. Every fucking night this week.”

  “I hoped you would just show up,” I confess.

  “I’m here now, and you’re mine all night. No fucking interruptions.”

  His possessive growl sends shivers down my spine and thrills me. Every nerve is firing on double time, making my skin ultra-sensitive to his touch. His head dips down and his mouth lands on my neck. The feel of his velvety soft tongue as he licks and sucks on me is exquisite.

  He’s way overdresse
d for this part of the evening, and I desperately want to help him remedy the problem. I fumble around to unbutton his shirt and pull it free of where it’s tucked into his pants. When he shrugs out of it, I quickly unbuckle his belt, unbutton his pants, and lower his zipper.

  “Take these off,” I murmur against his lips.

  He jumps up to step out of his pants and his boxer briefs. His cock stands proudly before me, long, thick, and hard. His hand lifts and wraps around the base and he unhurriedly slides it upward. My eyes unconsciously follow his movement, my lips part, and my breaths come in needy pants.

  When his hand halts, I drag my eyes up his perfectly built body until I meet his licentious gaze. “Like what you see?”

  “Definitely love what I see. Just wish it was closer to me.”

  “Your wish is my command, Wildcat.”

  He grabs a condom from his wallet, slides it on, and climbs on the bed. As he moves up my body this time, he stops at my core and raises his eyes to mine in the most seductive way. While I’m held captive by his eyes, his tongue erotically emerges as he licks my clit. My head drops back as my body convulses from the pleasure he gives me. The combination of his warm, wet tongue and the stimulation of his finger inside me has me seeing stars as I scream his name.

  “Mmmm, you taste good.” He kisses the inside of my thigh and I realize I’m still pulling his hair. “But I don’t think I can wait one more second to be inside you, Mali.”

  “I can’t wait another second either, Jagger.”

  He pushes forward on his knees and I feel his cock stroke against me. The instant we become as one, joined in beautiful decadence, something changes. A switch instantly flips and we move together in perfection. Jagger kisses me again, his tongue caresses mine, and he thrusts harder into me. My hips rise to meet his over and over. Not that I have many lovers to compare him to, but I can’t imagine another could ever command my body the way Jagger does.

  “I feel your body tightening around me. It’s holding onto me like you can’t get enough,” he murmurs to me.