Desire

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Desire Page 49

by Simone Sowood


  Unfortunately my boss left two months after I started and Calvin replaced him. Calvin the nightmare. Calvin the something to prove. Calvin who was “full of ideas on how things could improve” and who “really wanted to make his mark on things.” His style of management was to criticize and complain. As a result Sam and I hated him.

  Sam had been in the job for three years, long enough to start looking elsewhere. But I was stuck here until I put in some time in the role. That was, unless Calvin fired me in the meantime. He was working on it, I just knew it. He hated me from the second he laid eyes on me. No matter what I did, he gave me the lowest marks in my monthly performance reviews. Nothing I did was good enough, though he was eager enough to steal my ideas and claim them as his own. I suspected his real reason was he was threatened by me. He would be found out at any time as the incompetent boob he was, and I’d be the person who exposed him.

  “Ladies, good of you to come to work today,” Calvin said in his attempt at a stern voice.

  We were used to being treated like schoolgirls by him and it took a lot of effort to keep from bursting out laughing.

  “Abbie, I need the WeeksEnd report by eleven o’clock.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m on it.”

  “I mean it, Abbie. You need to get it done now. And make sure your work isn’t sloppy like it usually is.”

  I turned my head away before he could see the rage in my face. My work was not sloppy. Ever.

  How was this guy married? Did he treat his wife the same dickish way? My mind wandered, envisioning what it would be like to have him pumping away on top of me. Surely there was no way he’d be in for some foreplay, it’d all be about getting the business done, efficiently and oblivious to his wife’s lack of enjoyment. I hope he did it with the lights off, for her sake. That pasty dough boy body could only be worse naked.

  The rest of the day was mundane, and I looked at the clock in the corner of my computer screen more than I looked at my spreadsheet.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Sam said, smacking her laptop lid shut.

  Chapter 2

  We walked down the street, wading through the crowds of workers fleeing their offices. It was the same every Friday evening, I met up with my best friend Jenny and always tried to drag Sam out to join us.

  Sam held the glass door open for me, and I stepped into the dimly lit bar, already loud with chatter. Later the work crowd would thin out and the music would get turned up. If we lasted until then, we danced — usually making fools of ourselves but not caring. Or at least Jenny and I didn’t care. I suspected this was the real reason Sam always ducked out early.

  Tonight, after most people had left, including Sam, a cute blond guy came up to our table.

  “Hi, I’m Duncan,” he said, extending his hand to me.

  I looked at his hand, but didn’t offer mine. “I’m Abbie,” I muttered.

  Undeterred, Duncan sat on the bench beside me. I gave Jenny a look, as if to say what the fuck, but she gave me a wide-eyed stare and gestured to talk to the guy. He didn’t seem to notice my appeal to her. Or at least he didn’t let on if he did.

  “Do you come here often?” he asked. How original.

  “Sometimes,” I responded then turned to Jenny. “So, Jenny, Matt is taking me to Cape Cod for our anniversary. I can’t wait! Seven years. Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

  Jenny rolled her eyes. “Hard to believe all right.”

  But it worked, Duncan stood and left giving a little wave as he went.

  “You’re an idiot,” Jenny said as soon as he turned away.

  “I’m not interested in another relationship.”

  “I know, you’re still in the all-men-are-assholes phase. You have to get through that.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “But you have to. Enough time has passed, Abbie, you have to move on with your life.”

  “There’s no way I’ll ever trust a man again. I promise you that much.”

  “You didn’t have to have a long-term relationship with that blond. Just a good, casual fuck.”

  “Ha!” I laughed, “I could do with one of those.”

  “So then go after him, have a one-night stand. Wake up in the morning feeling better. Orgasms have amazing therapeutic powers.”

  “I’m far too scared for that.”

  “Just do it.”

  “No way. What if he has a little pecker? Or is really selfish in bed? Then I haven’t gotten anywhere.”

  “You’re just nervous,” she teased, blowing air through her straw at me.

  “So what if I am?”

  “You’re going to miss out on a lot of life with that attitude.”

  I pouted my bottom lip out at her. She was probably right. Then again, what did she know? She’d never had a boyfriend for longer than a year, and it was not unusual to see her go through a string of men. Heh, maybe she does have this figured out right.

  * * *

  I lay in bed that evening, unable to sleep. With frustration calling out from between my legs, I once again decided to chase the orgasm that eluded me that morning. I picked the vibrator up from the floor and gave it a wipe. On reflection, I ran to the kitchen and raided the junk drawer for some new batteries. Maybe that was the problem, fresh batteries would mean faster vibes.

  There in the kitchen, I pressed my hand through the side of my panties and cupped my vulva before slipping two fingers inside. Wet but not wet enough.

  I moved the fingers back out and searched for my clit. I rolled it between my fingers and remembered the feeling of being embraced, of hands stroking up and down my back the way Matt used to move his when he fucked me from behind. Once wet enough, I turned on the vibe and guided it into position with my left hand, making sure the little ears were resting on my engorged clit.

  With my eyes closed, I concentrated on the feelings of pleasure radiating out from between my legs. I tried to zone out the buzzing noise. I even tried to imagine Ryan Reynolds naked and hard. But nothing pushed me over that edge. Frustrated, I kept going, trying to free myself of negative thoughts. I dragged a hand up my body and tried sucking my thumb, imagining Ryan Reynolds kissing me. Still nothing. I tried to stop thinking that I would never have another orgasm as long as I lived. I tried to stop thinking what I was doing was ridiculous and pathetic, and tried to concentrate on the vibrations going on down there.

  I was on the verge of giving up when the coffee shop man’s smiling face popped into my head. His deep brown eyes sparkled at me, and he smiled. Oh God, that smile was unreal. His shirt fell open, exposing his muscles underneath. He drew me into him, tilted my chin and kissed me. My body tensed, then melted and pulsing pleasure waves overtook my body.

  I slid down the kitchen cupboards and sat on the floor. Why had that guy jumped into my mind? And why was he enough to push me into such delight? Was I that desperate for the attention of a man? The way he had so much confidence in speaking to me was definitely sexy. And he was cute. Okay, not cute, he was exceedingly hot. The hottest man who has ever spoken to me. Perhaps I was stupid to be cold to him. Perhaps Jenny was right, I needed a good fuck. But how would I ever get coffee-shop man into a one-night stand? Would I ever even see him again?

  Chapter 3

  I spent the weekend sulking and cleaning. Then washing my clothes. While putting my clothes away, I ended up digging out those old jeans from the back of my closet. After debating what to do with them, I duct taped them to the wall in my kitchen. Right beside the snack cupboard. Shortly afterwards I reasoned I couldn’t waste the food already in my cupboard, and sat down to watch an old romance starring a man my mother probably lusted after while stuffing my face with Oreos.

  I don’t understand why I was crying since romance was only found in movies and not real life. I huffed, blew my nose and jogged to the bedroom, undoing my pants as I went. By the time I hit the bed, they were down around my thighs and my trusty vibrator was on and buzzing to go.

  I thought about the movie, the k
iss, the man’s movie-star body, everything. But before long coffee shop guy was front and center in my mind. He backed my naked body against the wall and lifted me, but before I even got to run my fingers through his glorious mane, I climaxed.

  After my body calmed, I decided message received, loud and clear. It was time to take a risk. I would somehow get him home and wrap my legs around his waist. He would be my first one-night stand. I just had to find him.

  Before I knew it, Monday morning was upon me and the countdown to Calvin was in full swing. I dreaded the morning a little less than other Mondays, now I’d given myself the mission of finding coffee-shop man.

  * * *

  “Good morning,” Sam said with her usual chirpiness.

  “Morning!”

  “Well, that’s an unusual smile for a Monday. What’s up?” I’d only known her six months and already her ability to read me was uncanny.

  “Come get a coffee with me and I’ll tell you.”

  “Ooo, coffee? That’s usually reserved for Fridays.”

  “Is that a no? Because I’m going.”

  “As if I’m going to pass up the opportunity to find out what’s going on.”

  We entered the coffee shop, my eyes flitting over the place, but there was no sign of coffee-shop man.

  After she’d fixed her chocolate mocha and I’d skipped the sugar on my skinny Americano I said, “Let’s sit down.” I led her to a table where I could keep an eye on the door.

  “Sitting down? We never stay. This must be good!”

  “It is. At least for me. Over the weekend I had an epiphany. I need a man.”

  Her face dropped for a second before she broke into a wide grin and started clapping, “Yippee!”

  “Stop it. People are staring.”

  “I don’t care. This is a momentous occasion.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m not talking about a relationship, just a one-night stand.” I paused, “Or maybe a fuck buddy, but nothing more.”

  “Is it the blond?”

  “Huh?”

  “Jenny texted me about the blond. Don’t worry, she got his phone number for you.”

  “No, it’s not the blond!”

  “She told me how cute his ass was.”

  “What? How would she know?”

  “She doubled back after you left and found him.”

  “The traitor! Anyway, like I said, it’s nothing to do with the blond.”

  The door opened and a group of suited men walked in. I couldn’t see all of them straight away, so I stared as they made their way to the counter.

  Sam looked to me, and then looked to them and back to me again. Her mouth opened wider with each turn of her head.

  “Close your mouth, you’re about to catch flies.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject, I’m onto you. It’s the guy who was here on Friday, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe.” I couldn’t keep the smile from my face.

  “How are we going to find him again?”

  “I’m going to blow a lot of money on coffee until I do.”

  It wasn’t a good plan, granted. And I didn’t have the money to spend on coffee. When I’d come up with the plan, coffee-shop guy was already waiting in the coffee shop for me Monday morning and treated me to the first coffee.

  “Well, hopefully he’ll be here in a minute.”

  “Unlikely, but a girl can dream.”

  The door opened again and my heart crashed against my ribcage. My cheeks burned.

  “What? Is it him?” Sam asked, whipping her head around to see. “It’s him!”

  “So what do I do now?”

  “Go talk to him!”

  “But what if it isn’t interested in me?”

  “Sweetie, I was here Friday. Trust me, he’s definitely interested in you.”

  I didn’t know whether to believe her, but I wanted to. I had to. Otherwise I knew damn well she’d go up to him on my behalf. I should have thought of that before I’d told her. I patted my cheeks, willing the red to go down, cleared my throat and stood. Sam’s smile gave me the last bit of confidence I’d get. At least she’d be there to pick me up after he rejected me.

  I walked to the prep area. Yes, I would wait there the way he’d waited for me on Friday. It was all coming together. Except as I walked to the little counter, I was looking at him and not where I was going. I stumbled into a chair and sent both myself and the chair toppling to the floor, accompanied with a deafening screech.

  * * *

  I lay on the floor, half under a table. A used Kleenex was far too close to my face, but I still contemplated pulling it apart and using it to shield my face as I fled the coffee shop.

  “Abbie, are you okay?”

  Oh no. Please no. This was the worst thing possible. Coffee-shop man crouched beside me. I closed my eyes, willing to see Sam when I opened them again. She stood halfway between me and our table, as if she had rushed over, and then hung back when the man got to me first.

  I can’t believe he used my name. I can’t believe he remembered my name! Too bad he’d wipe it from his memory now.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I said sitting up, conscious of every single person in the shop watching me.

  “Here, let me help you,” he said, grabbing my hands.

  My face burned red, but at least he would think it was from my fall and not from talking to him. The next moments were a blur but somehow I ended up sitting at a table with him and a glass of water. Over his shoulder I saw Sam hightail it out the door.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  “Only my pride,” I tried to smile, though my insides were a clash of emotions, fighting between embarrassment over the fall and excitement over finding him so easily.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve done things a hundred times worse.”

  “You have? Like what?”

  “Um,” he hesitated.

  I jumped in, “Liar!”

  His eyes widened at my accusation and we both laughed.

  “I have,” he protested. “When I was a kid I got to ride my horse in a town parade. And I fell off.”

  I burst out laughing. Not knowing whether to believe him. “I appreciate you trying to make me feel better,” I said with a smile beaming across my face.

  “Sir, your coffee,” the barista called.

  He stood and took a step to the counter before turning back to me, “Don’t go anywhere.”

  My heart swelled, Sam was right, he was interested in me. I watched as he fixed his coffee, then he retrieved my coffee from my original table. “Here,” he said as he set it in front of me.

  Chapter 4

  “So… you remembered my name.” That sounded awkward, why did I say that?

  “I never forget a pretty girl’s name.”

  He certainly didn’t lack for confidence but his comment had my heart dancing.

  “Do I get to know your name?” I asked, fiddling with my stir stick.

  “Of course. It’s Jay…”

  Was he done? He didn’t sound done. Did he forget his name?

  “Jay?” I repeated.

  “Yes,” he said, sounding surprised.

  “Nice to meet you, Jay. I’m Abbie White.”

  “Yes, I’m Jay, Jay Mc…”

  “Jay Mickle?”

  “Yes, Jay Mickle.” This was a strange conversation.

  “I feel like Judy Garland in The Clock,” I said.

  “Except you tripped over a chair, not me. And you didn’t break your heel.”

  “I…” I was speechless. How did he know that movie? No one knew that movie.

  He smiled at me, holding my eyes in his.

  “You’re a fan of old movies?” I finally said.

  “My mother watched them endlessly when I was growing up.”

  I sucked on the rim of my coffee cup, looking at him. Pondering.

  Normally people look at me with blank faces when I make a reference to one.

  * * *

  I glanced at my watch. Ho
ly cow, we’d been talking for an hour. Calvin would freak. Fingers crossed, Sam came up with a convincing story to cover for me.

  “Is everything okay?” Jay asked.

  “Yes, it’s just I have a real hard ass for a boss, and he’s going to freak on me for being late.”

  Jay shook his head, “Don’t worry about him.” How could he say that? I had a mortgage to try to keep up with. I was sure Calvin would put this on my record. I was convinced he was building a case against me to get me fired.

  “You sure must have a nice boss with a comment like that.”

  He laughed. “I don’t have a boss.”

  “What do you mean you don’t have a boss?” My comment seemed to surprise him, and he sat up straighter.

  “No, I don’t have a job.”

  “You don’t have a job?” What kind of person doesn’t have a job? It wasn’t like he was old enough to be retired. But it did explain his lax attitude about my job. He probably got fired from his last job for laziness. But it didn’t matter what he did for a one-night stand, as long as he satisfied me.

  “No, I’m, um, between jobs right now.”

  “Oh, then why are you hanging out downtown?”

  “You know, job interviews.”

  “What time is your interview? I don’t want you to be late because of me.”

  “Don’t worry, I have time. I like to come good and early.”

  “What’s the interview for?”

  “IT stuff. Nothing exciting.”

  “Good luck. I’m sorry, I really have to get to work.” I really, really didn’t want to go to work.

  “I hate to lose your company while I wait. Are you doing anything Friday?”

  “No.”

  “How about dinner? My treat?” He just asked me out. I had to pinch myself under the table to make sure I wasn’t in my bed masturbating.

 

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