Back Stage

by T Gephart

  However, nothing in my life is ever simple. I powered down the computer not even bothering to download my music notes, deciding to work off my phone once it was charged. And with my email happily sailing away in cyber space, I became suddenly curious what the bedrooms looked like. I mean, if this was the shared space, I imagined the bedrooms would be pretty spectacular. It wouldn’t hurt to look; I would definitely not touch anything. I didn’t even have to go all the way in, just poke my head through the door. What’s the harm?

  Holy shit.

  The room was impressive. Well as much of it as I could see from the door. I wasn’t tempting fate and going all the way in. That would be taking it too far right? I mean, I didn’t even know whose room it was.

  It was while I was justifying my argument that I heard the elevator ping, announcing the arrival of a guest. Who the hell was that? Housekeeping? Staff? Security? Was there some hidden security cameras and they’d seen me going where I shouldn’t? I’d barely stepped into the room. Crap. I should have just left.

  And for no good reason, I panicked.

  I could have just quickly shut the bedroom door, sat at the desk like I had been five minutes earlier. But no, I had to act like I had been robbing the place, disregarding that I had a key and a reason to be there as I crawled under the desk and hid.

  It was a stupid instinct, that instead of just waiting to see who it was, I was now crouching low like an idiot, in the tiny space.

  Carefully my hands circled my knees and clutched them closer to my body, my effort to hide myself being taken very seriously.

  Not that I’d have an excuse for being under the desk if I ended up being caught. Other than me being an idiot. Which would be the truth in this instance.

  Footsteps.

  My ears strained against the wooden panel of the desk. It was hard to hear anything, with the thing not being some MDF wannabe from Ikea; it was solid. Possibly antique. I had no idea why I was surprised.

  The door opened. Then shut really quickly. The sound of heels and men’s shoes clicked on the floorboards. There were definitely two people in the room.

  “Jason,” a female voice giggled, “I’m so turned on right now.”

  Great. Not only was it the person I least wanted to see, but he also had company. The giggling annoying variety.

  “Yeah? I haven’t even done anything yet.” His voice was low, dark—a rumble.

  Whether or not he’d touched her, I could see where giggling, annoying groupie—I didn’t know she was a groupie, I’m assuming—was going with that. He had that sexy shit locked down.

  Not that he held that power over me anymore. No, of course not.

  “Don’t you believe me?” More giggling. “Why don’t you let me show you how wet I am.”

  Excuse me while I puke. Seriously, why do girls talk like that? Like he doesn’t know what a wet pussy feels like? I’m sure, honey, he knows exactly what it feels like; he doesn’t need a guided tour. And another thing, dressing it up like a treasure hunt doesn’t make you sound sultry, it makes you sound like a fucking pirate. Argh, follow me trail to where X marks the wet spot. I will never understand how guys got turned on by that. Obviously now was probably not a good time to ask.

  “Hmm, you are wet.”

  Hold the phone people, the man was a genius. He was also an asshole and I hated him even more. You know, in case I needed more of a reason, listening to him be with a girl would do it. Ignore the fact I didn’t want to sleep him and the man obviously wasn’t going to stop having sex. Shut up logic, you have no place here.

  “Oh, yeah. Touch me like that.”

  There wasn’t a need for me to actually see what was going on, the moaning and the rustling of clothes was enough of a tip-off. My earlier idea of hiding was even dumber than I first thought. I might be hunkered down for a while. This was so going to suck.

  “Like this?” he asked, clearly needing the treasure map that I had stupidly said men didn’t need. Oh look, it was a fucking expedition. I was literally shaking my head and rolling my eyes at the same time. It was a talent.

  “Yes. Yes. Oh, yes.” The giggles had stopped, however the annoying hadn’t. It was just breathier now. Elongating every syllable. My hand clapped around my mouth as I forced myself not to yell, “Oh please.”

  “Or is this better?”

  Was he fingering her or was it an experiment? It still wasn’t clear.

  “Holy fuck. Yes. Yes, like that.”

  She obviously liked it, whatever it was he was doing.

  “Are you sure? Maybe you’d prefer this.”

  Seriously? Just fucking do whatever it was you were doing before and move things along. I’m getting a cramp in my thigh. Oh and P.S. I hope she has crabs.

  “Oh God, you are going to make me come.”

  Thank God. Let’s wrap it up, lady.

  “No, you aren’t. Not yet.”

  What do you mean no she isn’t? Why the hell not? Just give her the fucking orgasm.

  “Jason, oh God. I’m going to come.”

  Lady, I’m thinking you might have to take care of it yourself. Just reach down there and give him a hand. And I’m talking literally.

  “But I haven’t done this yet.”

  No one likes a show off, Jason. I hope she has crabs and herpes.

  “Ah, ah, ah. I’m going to come.”

  I’m yet to be convinced, you said you were before and you let me down. Let’s not get too excited.

  “So do you want me to stop?”

  YES! For fuck’s sake just either make her come or give her a vibrator. I can’t stand it any longer. Oh, and in addition to the crabs and herpes I hoped she had originally, could we add a yeast infection? I mean, if I’m allowed to have a list, why not.

  “No, no. Don’t stop. I want to come. I want to come.”

  Trust me, we all want the same thing, lady.

  “Like this?”

  Jesus, I hated him. Like hate of epic proportions. Her too, whomever she was.

  So. Much. Hate.

  “Yes, I want to come, please.”

  Honestly, I don’t blame her for begging. At this point I was too. For what? Well, who the hell knew? A pair of noise-cancelling headphones would be a good start, followed by some chiropractic care for this crick in my neck I was developing. Oh, and the last twenty minutes or so of my life back.

  “What about if I do this?”

  Please make it stop. Please make it stop. Was he a sadist? Why won’t it stop?

  “Oh. Oh. Oh.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, make her come already!”

  It was supposed to be a thought, I’d had a lot of those through the course of this craptastic experience and yet, somewhere between my mind and my mouth something must have gone wrong. Because, instead of it being harmless internal dialogue, of which I’d had plenty, those words leapt out of my mouth and had announced themselves.

  It was quiet.

  Really, really quiet.

  No annoying giggling, no moaning, no threats of coming.

  Nothing.

  Crap.

  “Angie?” Jason’s sexy voice was gone and in its place was his what-the-fuck voice. I’d heard it a few times in the last few days so I knew it was him, even without looking, or the fact that his fuck-buddy had said his name fifteen times. Okay, maybe it was only ten. Whatever, she’d said it a lot.

  “Heeeeyyyyy.” I slowly rose to my feet, brushing myself off as I stood. Pins and needles shot up my leg, the lack of circulation from being curled underneath my body making them feel tingly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” My lips spread into a forced and probably freaky looking smile.

  Really, it’s not like there was an etiquette guide for it. I was totally winging it.

  Jason’s hand shifted from the front of I’m-coming’s jeans. The look on her face, priceless. That elusive orgasm probably was going to be a while. It’s okay though, because given the way things were going, it hadn’t been a sure thing anyway.
/>   “Who is she?” The eye daggers she shot me enough of a clue I wasn’t going to be winning any fans here. It was only fair though seeing as I had wished the crabs, herpes and yeast infection on her. Although her disliking me wasn’t going to have me losing any sleep.

  “A friend.” Jason answered before I’d gotten the chance. His face, unreadable.

  “Actually, I’m not really.”

  We were so far from friends it was laughable he’d even call me that. We were the opposite of friends, we were frenemies. Who’d had sex once and now hated each other. And wished evil fungal infections … oh wait, that was probably just me who wished that.

  “Okay, well. I’m not really into girls. So. Um. Can she leave already?”

  She didn’t bother to address me, my existence meaningless to her, as she turned her attention back to Jason. Her hands scrunched tight around his t-shirt.

  She could hold onto him all she wanted, that orgasm I’d robbed from her wasn’t coming back. At least not in the short term.

  His eyes stayed locked on mine, ignoring her clawing hands.

  “Did you need something, Angie?”

  He said the words slowly, letting each one settle.

  “No, no I’ll let you two get back to it. Seems like you have your hands full.”

  Or at least he had, and there was no way I’d be sitting through another round of that. No, no, no. Get your shit, get out the door and go scrub your ears with bleach. And, I was going to need about five gallons of ice cream as well to deal with the truckload of emotions I had going on.

  “Jason.” Ms. I’m-going-to-come-or-maybe-I-wont pulled at his shirt again. In case he forget she was hanging there, or maybe it was a prompt to remind him he had unfinished business.

  “Why are you here?” He completely ignored her, his eyes following me as I moved further away from the desk and closer toward the door.

  “Did you hear me? Hello?” She was getting impatient, I think she actually stomped her foot.

  “No one was supposed to be up here.” Why the hell was I justifying myself? Troy had given me his key; I hadn’t broken in. And, I was not the one who was trying to satisfy my screwed up need for a casual hook up. Oh, that’s right, because I don’t do that. I actually have to know the person before I let them into my vagina.

  “Are you just going to ignore me? I’m right here.” She sounded mad, she was probably mad.

  “I’m sorry, Kristen. Why don’t I give you a call later?” What do you know, he knew her name. Jase turned to face her for the first time since he removed his hands from down her pants.

  “But. But. I thought—” She tried to argue, and what she was going to pick as her selling point I had no idea. I thought you were going to make me come? Have sex with me? Love me, and stick around? No, I was the only idiot who’d have thought the last one. Even Kristen wasn’t that stupid.

  “Yep, great. Talk soon.” He didn’t give her chance for any further discussion. In fact he didn’t give her the chance for anything, and all but pushed her out the door.

  “Call me.” The words were cut short by the slamming door in her face.

  It was a stand off.

  The two of us on opposite sides of the room. Neither of us saying a word.

  And I knew I shouldn’t have looked down, but my eyes had a mind of their own as they followed the lines of his body down. To his crotch, and where his very hard cock was still straining against his jeans.

  “See something you like?”

  I’d been busted. Not only had it been mortifying enough to have to been caught hiding under a freaking desk while he dated some girl, he’d now caught me staring at his pants. And not in a way that was anywhere near innocent.

  “No. Been there, done that and got the t-shirt. Thanks for the offer though.”

  Well at least I could count on my mouth to get with the program. For better or worse, if I was thinking it, I was probably going to be saying it and in this instance I totally approved of my verbal spillage.

  “I know you hate me.” He was back to the measured words, and the low rumbly sexy voice.

  “Wow, you really are smart. Here I was thinking that college education was nothing more than a fancy paper.” I folded my arms tightly across my chest, my mood confused.

  “But I also know how good it was when we were together.” He moved closer.

  “And now you’re back to dumb again. That night was nothing. I faked it the whole time.” Of course that wasn’t even close to being true but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Even if it meant tarnishing the memory. It’s not like it had meant anything to him and for me, it was just a reminder of heartache. Who cared if I tore it to shreds.

  “Lie if it makes you feel better, the way you came—on my mouth, on my hand, on my cock—you couldn’t have faked that.” He was right. None of those times had I faked it, and he knew that.

  “Maybe I’m that good of an actress? I was still nice back then, and didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” I had been nice back then. It was before he’d ripped out my heart. Before I knew people did that, before I’d opened my freaking eyes.

  He had moved. His feet had progressively walked him to directly in front of me, where he now stood. Still. There.

  “I’m pretty sure it was you I was having sex with, and not Meryl Streep.” His voice was sharp. Like a ruler slapping a desk and he wasn’t letting me off the hook.

  “I was easily impressed, and my inexperience worked in your favor.” As much as I wanted to, I did not move back. I didn’t filch and I didn’t run. I stood my ground, playing our stupid game of verbal ping-pong.

  “Bullshit, I bet I could make you come just as hard now.” Whoa! What?

  “Dumb and delusional. Sadly, it doesn’t make you more appealing.” I’d snapped back so fast, I’d almost not heard the words.

  Silence.

  He didn’t respond which annoyed me. It was his turn to say something, why didn’t he say it? He always had a comeback, there would be no way he’d let me have the last word.

  And I waited. Nothing.

  Instead his mouth stayed tight, his jaw clenched, as his dark brown eyes studied me. Their path travelled over every inch of my body so that I felt naked. Exposed.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I demanded, my voice not as confident as I would have liked.

  “How am I looking at you?” He tilted his head to the side, a slow smile working at the edges of his lips.

  “Like—Like you want to eat me.”

  “I’d love to eat you.” His smile got wider.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “No, but it’s what I meant.”

  The oxygen from the room seemed to have evaporated. Poof! Gone. It was like being in a big black hole, a vacuum. There had to be a plausible explanation as to why I could no longer breathe. It wasn’t just my lungs that were having difficulty trying to function, it was my brain too. Sound had also gone to wherever the air had disappeared to as the silence deafened me.

  I tried to remind myself how much I hated the man in front of me as my body had kicked into autopilot. Those words he said were making me respond in a way I was not comfortable with. A way I knew he wanted. A way he would enjoy.

  And I couldn’t stop it because despite what I told myself, my feelings for this guy were so freaking twisted he still turned me on.

  Fuck biology and its chemical reactions.

  “That is not happening.” Oh, thank God I didn’t just strip down and offer myself to him. Ain’t going to lie, it could have gone either way.

  “You don’t sound so sure.”

  “I’m positive. Like I would go there anyway. You were just about to have sexy time with someone else.”

  “But I didn’t, and now here we are.”

  “I’m not the alternate, Jason.”

  “You never were the alternate, Angie.”

  “Stop. Stop talking.” My body shook all over.

  What did he mean; I was n
ever the alternate? I was never his first choice either.

  “Ask me why I was with that girl.” He lowered his head so his face was inches from mine. Too close. Way too close.

  “No, I don’t give a fuck.”

  “I was with her because I haven’t had sex since the first night I saw you again. I can’t function, Angie. It is way beyond fucked up. I want you, and I know I can’t have you. And I have had a raging hard-on I can’t seem to get rid of.” His nose skated against the length of mine. I’d never heard the pain before. The underlying ache in his words, not that it could change what he did. Or where we were now.

  “Am I supposed to be flattered?”

  “No, you should be disgusted and you should leave.” His mouth moved to beside my ear, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Why aren’t you leaving, Angie?”

  “I am.” I nodded, knowing I needed to leave.

  “Your feet haven’t moved.”

  “They will.”

  “They better.”

  There was a snap. Like a band inside of me breaking and flicking me back, my body recovering before I lost my footing. And by some miracle in what I can only think confirms the existence of God, my feet moved toward the door and took me out of that room, my hands also worked as part of the team and shut the door behind me.

  My head pounded in time with my accelerated heartbeat. I was confused, turned on and disgusted, and I had no idea which emotion would end up dominating. How could I want him after hearing that? There was something wrong with me. There had to be. Only some sick, twisted or deranged pervert would want that. And yet if I hadn’t walked out that door I know I would have gone there. Why? Because all the messed up feelings swirling around were driving me insane and I just wanted to feel good, even for a while. Even if it was the wrong kind of good. Which is why I left. Which is why I needed to go far away from him. Which is why I was standing outside his door wanting to go back in.

  Leave, Angie. Put your damn feet one in front of the other and walk away.

  So I did.

  And then I was gone.