Garrett felt locked inside, as much metaphorically as literally. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t stand up on his own two feet, walk to the door, and unlock it, but the will wasn’t there. The motivation wasn’t there. He was trapped. Imprisoned.
What the hell am I doing with myself?
I can’t be like this. I have worked too damn hard for too damn long to be something. Why am I throwing it all away because of that fucking asshole? Why?
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contact list. Maybe he needed someone to distract him. To take his mind off the nightmare. He might be able to sleep after he’d fucked, after the high of his orgasm temporarily drowned out the voices in his head. Curled up against a warm body. Yes.
It was daytime now. Nigel would be at work. Anjuli would be at work. Fuck. Who else was there? He hadn’t spoken to any of the other contacts in his phone since before he left the university. He didn’t feel like opening that can of worms with anyone. If I can make it till tonight...maybe Anjuli will invite me over again after work? He decided to send her a text: Going to practice tonight? And it was the last thing he remembered doing before passing out.
“Look, I really don’t think you should be driving to work like this, lindo.” Chase had arrived home from the gym, showered, left for a meeting, and then came back, and now he was standing in Garrett’s bedroom doorway again looking smoking hot in a pair of jeans and a leather jacket.
Garrett had just pulled on his uniform pants and was ready to slide his shirt on when Chase appeared. If he wasn’t mistaken, Chase’s eyes had darted across Garrett’s bare chest. Even now, he didn’t look away; his blue eyes pierced right into Garrett’s.
“I’m fine. I got some sleep,” Garrett argued. He slipped the polo shirt with the DuPont Performing Arts Center logo over his head and pushed his arms through the holes.
“You’re still shit-faced drunk.” Chase blew out a breath and shook his head. “Isn’t it like a twenty, thirty minute drive?”
“I’ll be fine.” He stepped into his shoes, and when he bent to tie them, he wobbled a bit, catching himself with his arm against his bed.
“You can’t even tie your shoes; how are you going to drive to DC?”
“I’m going to have some coffee before I go,” Garrett explained. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I can’t call out tonight. I just got this job, and I don’t want to lose it.”
He could see Chase’s wheels turning as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Let me take you,” he offered. “I’ll even buy you coffee. Besides, I have nothing to do for the next hour until my shift at the liquor store.”
“I can’t let you do that, man. It’s really out of your way,” Garrett protested. Why was he trying so hard to be nice to me? It didn’t seem like Chase was the type to take no for an answer.
“Fine, you buy us both coffee, and we’ll call it even. You won’t lose your job, we’ll both have coffee, and you won’t wreck your car. Seems like a win-win-win to me.” He flashed a brilliant smile at Garrett as if he’d just solved a complex mathematical equation. “Also, coffee,” he added with a wink. “Did I mention that part?”
Garrett rolled his eyes. Maybe getting a cute roommate wasn’t such a great idea. Especially a straight one. “Fine,” he relented.
Chase looked victorious as they both headed out the door and down to his car.
Eight
She wasn’t sure what the point was of Garrett texting her earlier. She kept staring at his words: Going to practice tonight? She’d answered him a few minutes after she received it, but the space on the screen below her text was blank. No response. She wasn’t sure if it was his way of saying he wanted to hook up later, or if he was saying he wasn’t going to be there tonight.
She had her answer soon enough. She had figured out where his little office was, at the very end of the long hallway with the other administrative offices, like Nigel’s and Tom’s, the building manager. Garrett’s little maintenance cubby was in an alcove that housed the first-floor restrooms, the door in the wall that separated the men’s room from the ladies’. Before practice, she slipped down the hallway, wishing her high heels weren’t click-clacking on the hard tiles and echoing throughout the quiet building. He’ll definitely hear me coming...
She was poised to knock when he whipped the door open, almost startling her. She corrected a wobble on her heels as she searched his face for a smile. His eyes were glazed over, dark circles underneath like he hadn’t slept the night before. He’s too young to look like that, she observed.
“Hey...” The single word floated off his lips.
She squinted, trying to read his expression. He seemed...different than the last time she’d seen him. And it wasn’t just that he was tired. “You didn’t text me back,” she said, hoping his explanation would shed some light on what was going on.
“Sorry...I...” He shook his head as if his reason wasn’t worth sharing.
Even though he looked a bit downtrodden, she couldn’t help but think about how amazing his cock felt inside her the other night. It had been a week now, actually. And she was craving him again. Still, the slowness of his reactions rang warning bells.
I’m a psychologist, for fuck’s sake, I should be able to figure out what is wrong with him.
“I was wondering if you had time to—uh, maybe run some lines together after rehearsal tonight?”
His eyes bounced between hers for a moment, as if searching for an excuse. Her heart started to sink at the way his lips turned down. She wasn’t expecting to receive the answer she wanted.
“You know, if you’re not too busy...”
He allowed a slight smile to pull the corners of his lips up. Is that desire flashing through his eyes? “Yeah, I can probably do that.”
A weight lifted off her, and she was surprised by how heavily burdened she was in the face of his rejection. “Okay, I’ll see you around 9:30 then?”
“If I don’t see you first...” he fired back, and she thought she detected the slightest slur in his words. She backed away from his office door and click-clacked down the hallway in her heels, wondering if he was drunk.
He’s drunk, she confirmed by the time she reached the auditorium. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen those signs on a hundred veterans at her job. He was trying to compensate, but the look in his blood-shot eyes and that tiny slur was all it took to give him away.
She breathed out as she tried to prepare herself to get into character. She wanted to lash out at herself for considering fucking this younger guy at his job when he was drunk—and really so wildly inappropriate for her in pretty much every way, except the way it felt when his cock was inside her, his lips on hers and his arms wrapped around her. But she didn’t have time for that kind of self-reflection. She needed to cast away Dr. Anjuli Raina and become Roaring Twenties flapper, boyfriend-murdering, the “name on everyone’s lips” Roxie Hart.
Roxie Hart wasn’t exactly known for making the best decisions either. So maybe she’d just chalk this indiscretion up to method acting?
Her phone buzzed at 9:30 on the dot with a text: Meet me in the green room. She couldn’t prevent a wicked grin from displaying itself right across her face for the whole cast to see. She looked up from her phone and caught Nigel staring at her. She shrugged sheepishly and shoved her phone back into her purse.
She collected her things and began to head toward the exit that led to the backstage area and green room, but Nigel called out her name. She whipped around to face him, noticing that most of the cast was chattering and in the process of leaving the building. Why was she being singled out?
She caught a glare in his eyes as he asked, “Where are you going?”
“Oh,” she shot back, scrambling for an explanation. “Garrett is going to run through some lines with me on his...uh, break.”
She wasn’t sure how much authority Nigel had over Garrett, but she assumed in the general hierarchy of the theatre as a company, he was almost certainly at a
higher level as a director. She didn’t want it getting back to Garrett’s boss that they were having a fling. The last thing she wanted to do was cause problems for him.
“Have fun,” Nigel volleyed back. “But not too much fun!” He laughed it off like it was a joke, yet she couldn’t help but perceive a bit of honesty in his words.
She smiled and continued on her path. Moments later she was flinging the green room door open and feasting her eyes on a gorgeous redhead, limbs spread out comfortably on the shabby plaid sofa and fingers stroking his beard. His smile was dazzling; all traces of the drunkenness she’d seen earlier had vanished. She was glad, too, because she certainly didn’t want to run the risk of all that alcohol causing any equipment failure.
He reached underneath his thigh and pulled out a script. “Where do you want to start?”
“What?” Her eyebrows arched up as she studied his face, confused.
“What scene do you want to go over?” he reiterated.
She knew he was teasing her, but she still felt disappointed. She wanted him to take hold of her, throw her down on the sofa and fuck her within an inch of her life...
Giving him a wicked grin, she sashayed right over to him and flung one of her thighs onto the sofa on either side of his. He straightened up on the cushions, and she rose up on her knees until she met him eye to eye. “I want to practice our sex scene,” she whispered, her voice dripping with honey and seduction. “The one where you whip out your cock and fuck me raw...”
Something like a growl came out of Garrett’s throat as he thrust out his hands, gripped Anjuli’s shoulders and forced her to the floor in front of him. He spread his legs and, with one hand, freed his cock from the confines of his navy blue uniform pants. It came springing out like a charmed cobra, ready to strike. In one swift motion, he threaded his fingers through her long, dark waves and pulled her mouth to his groin, forcing her to take his cock deep within her throat.
She gasped right before nearly choking on his manhood. Her lips were spread so wide around his cock, they burned with pain, but her wincing only seemed to encourage him to thrust harder, deeper. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more of him into her mouth, he pushed farther until she gagged, her mouth filling with saliva. “That’s it,” he rasped, his head thrown back against the couch cushion, and his eyes closing in ecstasy. “Take a little more down your throat, baby.”
She had been rendered speechless and immobile, his strong hands guiding her mouth up and down on his slick, veiny shaft. The men she’d been with since she’d turned over her...new leaf...were fun, but they had all had a certain reservation about them, preferring that she call the shots, letting them know what her limits were.
Garrett didn’t care what her limits were. Or he did, and his objective was only to push her past them. She didn’t know why she found it so exhilarating, so intoxicating. But she did, and she couldn’t seem to get enough. She wiggled a hand free to slide it up her skirt, snaking her way to her own sex, which was throbbing and pulsing with desire. It was so soaked, her juices ran down her fingers as she slid them inside. I could come right now...just from sucking his cock, she realized with a gasp.
As if he’d read her mind, he snapped her head back, ripping his cock from her mouth with a popping sound. His eyes were glazed over again, like they’d been in his office earlier, but this time it wasn’t alcohol to blame; it was pure, unadulterated lust. He pulled her sweater over her head and tore at her bra until he finally unclasped it, freeing her breasts. He didn’t bother with her skirt; instead, he hiked it up as he pulled her back down on his thighs, anxious to plunge into her waiting wetness.
She was just as eager as he was. She rose up, about to guide his cock into her pussy, but he slapped her hand away. “That’s my job,” he snapped at her, “and I’ll take you when I’m ready.” Without another word or protest from her, he bent down and claimed her nipple, sucking it into his mouth and biting down on it hard enough to make her squeal and grind against him, desperate for him to be inside her.
He worked her up into such a frenzy that she attempted once again to slide his rock-hard cock deep within her. Again, he batted her hand away and chastised her. “You’ll get me when I’m ready,” he seethed, barely pulling away from her other nipple before sinking his teeth back in. The pain seared through her, radiating directly to her core, which felt like it might detonate if she didn’t relieve the pressure soon.
She tried to climb down him, to plant herself between his legs to take his manhood into her mouth again. She wanted to make him as desperate for release as she had become, but as soon as she tried to squirm away, he tightened his grip on her hips. She felt him pressing into her stomach until he shifted his pelvis ever so slightly to brush the head of his cock against her clit. The sensations rolled through her like thunder, only intensifying the need building inside her. She was sure as soon as he pushed past her lips, she would explode.
“How do you want it?” he moaned into her ear, thrusting up against her pussy, but just shy of pushing inside her.
“I don’t even care,” she said on an exhale. “Just inside me. Fuck, please!” She bucked against him, hoping maybe, just maybe, her lips would catch him and usher him inside. But she knew it was pointless. He was too big. He’d have to be steered in like a huge ship coming into port.
He pulled a condom out of nowhere, apparently planted in anticipation of this moment, and unrolled it onto his cock. She breathed out again, realizing she almost took him bareback. She understood now why he kept holding her off. Fuck, I have to get a grip, she chided herself. I can’t believe what this man does to me.
Once sheathed, he lifted her up and brought her down until his hard-as-steel rod found passage into her soft, wet core. He eased her down inch by inch, the sensation so slow and intense that she nearly lost her mind. This feeling...him inside me...it’s like a fucking drug. I could become addicted to this feeling.
She lifted herself and sank down again, watching his eyes roll back in his head with pleasure. Then they opened and speared hers in place, holding her gaze as he repositioned his hands on her hips and took control of their movement up and down, guiding her slowly, steadily as the pressure built inside them both. She searched his eyes for any indication that this was as intense for him as it was for her, and she finally saw it, a fire sparking in his deep green irises. The longer she stared, the hotter it began to burn and the faster he began to thrust inside her. But no matter how fast and furious the pace became, their eyes never broke their lock on each other, not even when they both shattered, sending an earthquake through each other’s bodies that rippled out into the universe like the birth of a star.
“Fuck, Garrett,” she moaned, her eyes snapping open and landing on the clock across the room. It was after midnight. “Fuck!”
She jostled his arm, which was wrapped around her with such dead weight that she could barely move. “Garrett?”
His eyes drifted open. “Hey.”
“Uh, it’s after midnight. We must have fallen asleep,” she announced.
Like his system was suddenly flooded with fuel, he jumped up from the couch. She crashed back into the cushions, feeling her body cool where his heat had seared into her. She glanced across the carpet and saw his used condom on the floor. What if someone had walked in and found them like that? Shit.
He still hadn’t said anything beyond his initial greeting. He pulled on his pants and fastened them up. She watched him, too fascinated by the way the muscles in his arms and abs moved to retrieve her own clothes. His hair was a crazy red mess sticking up off his head, and his eyes were sleepy, but he did look like he was gaining some lucidity by the time he pulled his shirt on and tucked it in his waistband.
“I guess I should get up too.” She chuckled softly. Her skirt was still on, just hiked up around her waist. She found her bra twisted up underneath her sweater and wrangled it on.
He grabbed his phone. “Oh, shit,” he said, looking down and furrowing his
brows.
“What’s wrong?” She hooked her bra, pulled it around and arranged each breast in its cup before looking up at him.
“My roommate is waiting for me. I forgot he drove me here tonight and was picking me up.” He slipped his shoes on. “I gotta go.” His thumbs flew over his phone, then he slid it in his pocket. “I gotta lock up.”
“I’m moving; hold on.” She pulled her sweater over her head. “Let me help you. What do you need to do?”
“Go check all the locks and turn off the lights in the loading dock and backstage area, please. Meet me out front? I’ll do the house and offices.”
“Sure, of course.” She ran around barefoot, carrying her high heels in one hand, and made sure all was locked up for the night before scurrying to the front of the building to meet Garrett.
After he secured the locks on the main door, he turned to her. “Hey, thank you. I had a shitty day, and you helped me forget it for a while.”
His voice was softer and more sincere than she’d heard it before. She was surprised. Perhaps he isn’t cold-hearted, after all, she wondered. “I’m sorry you had a shitty day, and I’m glad to help any time.”
“Hey, come meet my roommate.” He pulled her toward a small silver car that had pulled up on the curb with only its parking lights illuminated.
“Wait, let me put my shoes on!” She dropped her high heels to the cement and slid her feet in, noticing how badly they ached as soon as they pressed into the shoes. Ugh. She walked as gracefully as she could over to the waiting car.
“Hey, Chase, I’m so sorry I’m late. This is my friend Anjuli,” he introduced.
Chase flashed her a smile. She was instantly taken aback by how handsome he was, and how young. Probably not much older than Mishti, she sighed. “Hi, Chase, nice to meet you.”
Garrett turned to her. “Thanks again. I’m off tomorrow...but I’ll see you the night after, okay?”
She nodded; the cool night air felt refreshing on her inflamed cheeks. “Sweet dreams,” she said, hoping he would bend down and give her a kiss in front of his roommate.
The Navigator (Mountains Series Book 5) Page 8