Recklessly

by A. J. Sand

  But in actuality, he was really glad they had come because he could’ve watched her all night. She had a strut about her—not overtly notice me—but there was a light swing to her hips, a slight arch at the small of her back that gave her butt a lift. It was the sound of her voice, too. The confidence. The intonation. How she spoke like she never had a doubt about a thing she said.

  “Well, maybe you should’ve said, ‘The other girl I fuck works there,’ and I would’ve been on your side,” Kiera said with an edge to her tone.

  “Not necessarily,” Abel said after he emptied half his beer down his throat. “I knew and I voted differently. How could you not?”

  “Can we just have a pleasant meal? Is that okay, everybody?” Wes asked. “And we’re friends, Kiera. Remember?”

  “Well, I never paraded other guys in front of you…”

  “But you could have if you wanted…and I’m not going to argue with you about this. I need to use the bathroom.” Fuckin’ buzz kill of a night. Wes sighed, walked away from the table, and went down to the first floor where the workers had just set up for karaoke. The bar scene was much livelier and louder down here, and a few people were dancing to the music flowing from the speakers.

  “Your date seems pissed at you.” Lana appeared on his left, balancing two towers of empty glasses in either hand.

  “She’s not my date. You need help?”

  “No. You’re not allowed to help. But thank you.” She walked away to set them on the bar before returning to him. “Does she know she’s not your date?”

  “Oh yeah. She just likes to pretend she doesn’t. Kiera’s been clear on what her and me are. Wes Elliott is only Wes Elliott’s, girl. So, how have you been?” he asked.

  Lana shrugged as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Good. Busy with work. No time for play. You?”

  “Busy with play…but I get to call it work…” he replied with a smile. The speakers emitted a familiar musical chord as a guy stepped up to the karaoke microphone, and Wes and Lana stared at each other. She smiled first. “Well, if he’s going to sing The Cure, I think we have to stand here and judge him.”

  The not-so-sober guy on stage shouted a cringe-inducing version of “Pictures of You” to what looked like a bunch of his fraternity brothers, who hooted and hollered throughout the whole, dreadful thing. Wes and Lana snickered as the guy fumbled through the lyrics and made them up when he needed to. Wes was pretty sure that at one point he was singing an entirely different song. Wes made a fist and mimicked speaking into a microphone.

  “Well, Lana, at this point it appears he has introduced a weird foot pattern into the performance.”

  “I think you’re right, Wesley. I believe he thinks he’s dancing,” Lana replied with her own fake microphone.

  By the end, though, Wes and Lana joined in on the cheers purely for the entertainment value of the show. “A four,” Wes whispered.

  “Out of ten? Then a two!” After a laugh, Lana looked at her watch. “Hey, I’m officially on break and your food probably won’t be out for a while; come outside with me,” she said in that tone he found so irresistible, and Wes followed her out to an adjacent alley.

  “It’s good to see you, Lana,” Wes said, pulling her into a hug. Her hair smelled amazing, and he was tempted to lick her neck. But he really wanted to lick her everywhere.

  “You too. Look…about what your brother said…I wanted to call, Wes, but I know guys like you,” she said when they pulled apart, and she retreated to the opposite wall.

  Wes smirked. “Do you? Okay, so tell me about me then.”

  “Even excluding the girl at the table upstairs, who was a few minutes short of popping a squat and peeing on your shoe, you could send a mass text message to all the women in your contacts saying, ‘I want to see you,’ right now, and get a response from every one of them before this conversation ends. They’d bend over backwards for you on command.” Lana pressed out a slow-spreading smile. “I mean that literally.”

  The corners of his mouth started to curl because he wanted to laugh so badly; she was right. Wes strode up to her, liking and hating that about her. “I liked you bending over in Vices.”

  He had expected her to blush, but she only held her unabashed smile. And he connected to something behind her stare—something bold, unrestrained. Pretty girl, wild heart. Pretty wild. “That’s not the point, Wes. All I’m saying is, you have tons of options, and one girl not calling you doesn’t really faze a guy like you…except you’ve never been in a situation where a woman didn’t call...or freak out because you didn’t. You’re having trouble handling it. So now your ego needs answers, right? That’s why you’re really here.” She paused to expand a celebratory grin. “How’d I do? Did I nail it?”

  “Okay, I’m a slave to my ego sometimes. Happy?” Wes touched the side of her face before his hands fell to her waist. He eased her hips back and pinned them to the wall. She tensed just slightly, gripping his forearms, when his lips touched her earlobe and grazed the start of her jawline. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about you…”

  Lana turned her head a notch, and he pulled back, gaze dropping to her mouth when she bit her bottom lip. His core warmed as he was swept up in a fantasy of towing his tongue across her mouth, then another of giving her more reasons to need to bite her lip.

  “Oh, yeah? I was thinking about you, too.” Lana clutched the front end of his shirt before her hand slipped underneath it. “And I guess I can admit that my ego was hoping you’d be the one to make first contact,” she said, laughing, but it quickly faded off into a contemplative look.

  Wes planted his hands on the wall above their heads and brought his lips close to hers. “Well, I’m here now...and I don’t want us to play this game.”

  “Why? ‘Cause I won?”

  “‘Cause I want you.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Did you have fun the other night? ‘Cause I did. I don’t even really mean the bathroom; I mean all of it. Hanging out, talking surfing and music…being with you. I want to do it all again. Nothing complicated.”

  “Oh, I see. Just the fun, huh? Pretty upfront, Wes Elliott.”

  “You’re beautiful, you’re funny, and we had an all-around great night together. I want to have more great nights. I don’t want to beat around the bush with you. There are two things about ‘the mating game’ that I can’t really deal with. People who pretend they want a relationship to get sex, and those who use sex to try to get a relationship. So, yeah, I’m upfront.”

  “Very telling how we keep ending up at a place called Vices at the exact same time.” Lana undid the two buttons of his shirt. “I have been thinking I only got a preview last time…”

  “You did…” he said with a sly smile. “But, look, I’m cool with us just being friends, too, if you want that instead.” But please don’t want that.

  She smiled; it was fleeting but calculating. “No, ‘cause we’d try to be friends…”

  “And just keep fucking each other? I’m not good with unresolved sexual tension.”

  “Good. I like my sexual tension…” Her nails shimmied down his stomach and he sucked in air between his teeth. “…Pretty resolved.”

  His lips skated over her cheek, from her earlobe to the edge of her mouth. “Then come home with me...” But Wes hadn’t actually figured out how that would work, given his current dinner company or the fact that her shift wasn’t over. “Come home with me.”

  Lana caressed his face then joined their lips in a flurry of a kiss. A kiss so intense, so robbing of his breath, Wes nearly forgot they were outside against a brick wall as thoughts of giving in to the passion right there swam into his head. God, there was so much he wanted to do with Lana. Learn her body. Find out what she was into. Her fantasies and favorite positions.

  She pulled away suddenly. “Lose the baggage and come to my place. I’ll text you my address. I get off at twelve-thirty.” A jolt ripped through his body when her fingertips co
asted across his abs.

  He caught her wrist when she started walking away. “Yeah…” Wes brought the back of her hand to his lips. “…But later, too.”

  *

  Lana lived in a quiet apartment complex in Marina Del Rey with an unobstructed view of the city’s namesake dock, and it was an “L.A. short” drive from his place. When she swung the door to her 3 floor apartment open, wearing shorts and a tank top, and a beer bottle pressed to her lips, his heart kicked into a sprint. His excitement to see her—to be with her again—had been building for a few hours with persistent images of what was to come. Charlotte and Kiera had insisted on staying at Vices Hollywood for two rounds of karaoke after dinner, and then Abel had prolonged their stay further with his aimless flirting with nearly every unattached woman at the place just to torture him.

  “Hey, Deuce,” she said, as she gestured for him to step into the apartment. As he walked by her, Wes ran his hand along her stomach and tickled her side before she shut the door. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it was exceedingly homey. Simple. Neutral couches and blue carpeting. Nondescript art.

  “Nice place.”

  “Thanks. Rick helps to keep it from turning into a full-on frat house. He is sort of our dad.” She raised her beer. “You want one?” She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen.

  “No, thanks. How was the rest of your shift?” Wes asked as he settled in a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Great. Even without the tip from your table, I made a ton. I love Saturday nights at that place.” Watching the sway of her hips, his gaze tracked her to where she stopped in the kitchen. Her shorts were small and just hinting of the crescent of her ass at the hem. And then there were her legs: Tan, toned and even more stunning with the entire length of them visible. She was a cordial and efficient waitress, and sure that probably aided in her capability to get great tips, but her physical assets didn’t hurt, either.

  She was so perfect. She was gorgeous, she knew surfing, she spoke her mind and she drank beer. If he were really the marrying type, Lana would’ve had a diamond the size of Brazil on her finger right now. Shit. He’d buy her Brazil.

  As he looked around more, Wes envisioned every which way they’d fuck in her apartment, however and wherever she wanted. Couch. Kitchen counter. Carpet. Bathroom. Bed. Where-fucking-ever. Wes wanted to devour her. Look right into her eyes and watch her come until her body didn’t want to do anything except that ever again. The ferocity with which his blood flow hit his loins nearly left him dizzy.

  “Sooo…?” she said after she tossed the empty beer bottle into the recycling bin.

  “What?”

  “That’s the extent of my conversation ability right now, Wes...”

  “You didn’t really invite me over here to talk?” he asked in a faux coy tone.

  She pushed her tongue into the corner of her smile. Lana shook her head, and he liked that she didn’t conceal what she wanted beneath a lot of frivolous conversation. Her smile widened to the most tantalizing grin before she pulled her shirt off over her head, and Wes was out of his chair, tearing his own off.

  In a swift swoop, he set her down on the counter behind her, and holding her waist, he dragged her hips to his, as he listened to her breaths of anticipation pulse out the closer she got to him.

  “You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked.

  “Sex with you? Or this no-frills thing?”

  “Both…” Wes placed his lips to her ear. “You should know what you’re getting into—”

  Clutching his neck, she said, “This isn’t my first rodeo, Deuce.”

  “…‘Cause I like to fuck like I invented it. I mean, what’s the point if you don’t need to change the sheets afterward?” Beyond the pure hedonism of it, sex was worship for him, a moment to thank God for Woman. And he had quite the offering to make on Lana’s behalf. He pulled his tongue up from her earlobe to the top curve of her ear. “But I’ll ease you into it…”

  Lana laughed as she reached back and unhooked her bra before she dug her knees into his obliques. She looked down at her bare breasts then back up to his face, drawing her tongue across her bottom lip. He’d be a lifelong ass guy but in the instant he could reconsider. “You wanna touch me, Wes?”

  “Oh, I’m gonna do a whole lot more than touch you.” He leaned her back at a slight angle as he smashed his mouth to hers, his jaw clenching with anxiousness. Their lips connected in a gasping fury, both of them impatient, both guided simply by the fire of lust.

  His tongue edged her lips before slicing through, and Lana sucked on his lip as he clutched both her breasts. The hardness of her nipples on his palms sent a rumbling streak of electricity straight to his bones, and turned his erection into a sweet throbbing ache that he wanted to bury so deep in her that the thought blurred his vision.

  The groan that rushed out of him came as a surprise when Lana’s lips moved down his neck, licking and sucking their way to his pecs, as her nails coasted gently over his nipples. She grabbed his butt to pull him even closer, and then crushed her mouth to his chest. The pressure of her knees on his sides suddenly lightened as she spread wider and he shot his two fingers deep into her up the leg of her shorts. “Wet…”

  “I was touching myself, thinking about us at Vices...”

  “Touch yourself now…” With a smile on her face, Lana pushed him away for a second to pull down her shorts and underwear. She laced her fingers along her stomach and pressed them to her clit as he slid his fingers back into her body. The nerve endings in his groin were flooded with sensation, almost overwhelmingly, and Wes pumped his fingers harder into her. Lana’s moans were low and soft, offering a challenge to make her cry out louder. Wes gripped the back of her neck and made her lock eyes with him. Her body undulated in pace with his motion, and every clench from her pushed him toward being unable to ignore how badly he wanted to be inside her, feel on his dick what was happening on his hand. She gaped as she slipped closer to her climax, and he burned all over from the look of ecstasy in her eyes.

  Lana grabbed a fistful of his hair when he pressed his thumb to her clit, and his movement increased as he watched her. So close. So close. He waited until her body twitched, until she was clawing his forearms, and then he withdrew his fingers, grinning. Her expression was desperate and tormented, maybe even angry…until he ran his tongue along his fingers. Lana’s eyes widened in fascination before the look on her face turned savage with want. Her eyes flashed, and her yearning was raw. Primal.

  And it was really fucking hot.

  “I needed to know,” he said, shrugging.

  His pelvis rocked painfully into the counter when she pulled him forward with her legs. “Now, Wes...or I’ll literally kill you…”

  He laughed. “Which room?”

  “First door.” Wes yanked her up onto his body, and the shock from the friction of her against his hard-on almost made it impossible for him to walk the few steps. They landed against the door with her back on it and when he leaned in to kiss her, Lana put her finger over his lips. “Wes, you’re cool with this being what it is, right? What it is, right now?” she said in a mocking tone—striking in its similarity to the way he spoke—repeating the words he had said to her in the Vices bathroom.

  “Shut up,” Wes said with a laugh as she turned the doorknob behind her. Lowering her to the bed, he added, “Your roommates aren’t here.”

  Lana nodded. “Let’s feel free to make use of that convenience.”

  Balancing his weight on his arms, he hung over her. “How do we do that?”

  “You have a pretty face. I think I’d enjoy sitting on it.” There was no hesitation in her voice, no looking coy or breaking eye contact. “But I’m already lying down, so…” Her knees eased apart like butterfly wings, until they were both on the mattress.

  “Flexible,” Wes said as he peeled his jeans and boxers off.

  “Very. In most senses of the word,” Lana said with a smile. “Serious question before
we get down and dirty. When was the last time you got tested? And how often do you test for stuff?”

  “Every three to four months, give or take. ‘A plus’ on my last report card; no worries, but I always wrap it up, too. Last thing I need is a woman running off to a magazine with a story that I gave her something or got her pregnant. You?”

  “Every six months. Clean. Condoms or not, pills or not, how about we go together sometime next week and we both do it, okay? Especially if you want this to happen regularly.”

  He did. “Yeah. Sure,” he said when he was hovering over her again, the muscles in his arms flexed on either side of her body as he balanced.

  “Damn, you’re really sexy, Wes.” She held his tattooed arm tighter than the other, tracing the outline of one of the designs with her fingernail.

  He smirked. “I know.”

  Lana touched his lips, and he parted them, allowing one of her fingers to slip in. She giggled when Wes bit down softly on her nail and sucked on the tip as she slid it back out of his mouth. Her palm coasted down his gym-molded torso taut with defined ridges of muscle, and when she reached his pelvis, she grabbed hold of his dick. Dizzying frisson slashed through him, shoulder to hip, from the contact.

  “Cocky much?”

  “Cock…y is going to make you rip that headboard out of place.” He wanted to be inside her now, and he was fighting his patience, but he was craving the feeling of her on his tongue more.

  “So much talking…not enough not talking,” she said with a smirk. He plopped a lingering kiss in the middle of her stomach before he yanked her spread thighs toward him. He hugged his arms around either side of her hip flexors and opened her up more. With excitement thick in her eyes, she was breathing so hard her stomach was visibly contracting. “Well, it’s not going to tell you how to do it, Wes,” Lana said in a sultry whisper.

  Wes stayed silent, smirking like he always did—knowing he would make her call to God in the most ungodly of ways. Her face was locked in confusion when he scooted up, cradled her shoulders, and kissed her. She gasped, like she might protest, but her fingers were soon clutching the back of his head and mashing his lips harder against hers. When one of her knees collapsed against his thigh, Wes pushed it out again, pulled his palm down her stomach, and edged his finger into her.