by A. m Madden
“I don’t know you well enough,” I admit.
“You knew me well enough to kiss me?”
“Apples and oranges.”
She laughs at my response. “Apples and oranges?” she repeats my words.
I nod, but don’t elaborate. She fusses with the hair that’s piled on her head. When I still remain silent, she asks, “Care to explain?”
“Well, you’re attracted to me…”
“You are so cocky.” She laughs out loud cutting me off mid-sentence while shaking her head.
“Let me finish.”
She motions with her hand for me to continue.
“You’re attracted to me. I’m attracted to you. Why not act on that attraction toward each other?” She folds her arms, leaning back into the booth, waiting for me to continue.
So, I do.
“We could walk out of here, step off the curb, and get hit by a bus.” I lay my forearms on the table, leaning closer to her side. “That would be a damn shame. Because, then I would die never knowing what it feels like to be inside of you.”
She widens her eyes, “Wow. You’re so slick.”
I shake my head, responding, “No, just practical. I’m into immediate gratification. Life is way too short.”
Our food arrives, stopping her from responding. I prep my burger, add ketchup to my plate, take a bite, and yet she still watches me without having moved a muscle. “Aren’t you hungry anymore?” I motion toward her plate.
“I’m trying to figure you out.”
I shrug before taking another healthy bite. “This is really good. Your food is getting cold.”
Not another word is uttered during the rest of our meal. A few times she opens her mouth, as if she’s about to say something, but then shakes her head instead. I find her reaction to me hilarious. She truly has no idea how to respond to me. She also has no idea how to handle the truth in my words. After I pay the bill, we get back in my truck and I ask, “Now where?”
“It’s your call. What do you want to see?”
I reach over and take her hand. She has a tattoo on the inside of her wrist of a dove. I trace it with the tip of my finger and ask, “Is this your only tattoo?”
“No.” When I look over at her face, she’s smiling. “None of your business,” she adds, anticipating my next question.
“We’ll see.” I drop her hand and start the truck. “I want one. Take me to the place you got yours.”
“You’re in Vegas. Don’t you want to see naked women gyrating on a stage or something? That’s usually the first thing guys your age want to see.”
“I’ll wait until you gyrate for me later. Right now, I want to get a tattoo.”
She shakes her head, directing me to the tattoo parlor. It’s late, but we’re in Vegas. Once inside, the dude behind the counter asks me some questions and shows me to a room in the back. After taking a few steps, I turn toward Missy and ask, “You coming?”
“Sure.” She follows me down the hall, hovering in the doorway as I sit on the table.
“What are we doing today?” the artist asks. “Do you need to see a book?”
“No, I know what I want. FREEDOM running down my arm from my shoulder to my elbow.” I remove my T-shirt and add, “And the letters T. T. in big block font over my heart.”
He nods and steps away to grab his supplies. Missy comes closer and asks, “T.T.?”
“Trey Taylor.”
“You’re getting your own initials over your heart? Isn’t that a bit egotistical?”
“I’m my biggest fan,” I respond unapologetically.
The initials are for Taylor and Trestan. She’ll always be part of me. This will be a constant reminder of her absence in my life.
“Freedom? I was right. You just got out of jail, didn’t you?”
My tattoo artist looks up briefly before resuming his job.
“I did NOT just get out of jail,” I clarify to both of them. “I’m thinking of enlisting.”
“Really?” she asks, believing my lie. “That’s pretty cool.”
I shrug, not committing either way. I have no intention of enlisting. If I did, I wouldn’t be invisible. Although the thought had crossed my mind before I decided to run away, but I couldn’t leave Taylor.
Missy remains quiet the rest of the time. She sits beside me, watching intently. My tats take several hours to complete. It’s really late, but I’m not the least bit tired. My nap was just enough to keep me going. Missy settles into my truck and yawns, laying her head back against the seat.
“Tired?”
“Yeah. I think I’ll call it a night. I feel bad I didn’t show you around.”
“I don’t. This is what I wanted to do. What are you doing tomorrow?”
She looks over at me. The shadows from the streetlights hide most of her face, but I can see the surprise in her eyes. “I thought you were heading out tomorrow.”
“If I can spend the day with you, I’ll stay.” I admit, putting her on the spot.
“I have to work.”
“Take off.”
“I barely know you.”
“You know more than most people I know. Where to?”
“My car is at the hotel.”
I drive in silence back to the hotel. When I pull into the lot, she points to a small car parked in the corner. I throw my truck in park, shifting in my seat until I am facing her. My knee rests against her thigh. I place my hand on the back of her neck, slowly skimming my finger against her smooth skin. Without an invitation, I pull her toward me until my lips land on hers. The kiss deepens as both of us explore the other’s mouth with our tongues.
“Come in,” I demand. I need more, and I’m not opposed to asking for it.
“You’re pushy and dense.”
“I feel a connection to you. You can’t tell me you don’t feel it.”
“I don’t sleep around.”
“Neither do I.”
She lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Okay, sure you don’t.”
I give her my most offended look. Truth is, I don’t. I will be and soon, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“I don’t,” I repeat, staring right into her eyes. I run my lips along her neck until I reach her ear. When I tug on her lobe with my teeth, she rests her hand on the back of my head. Her body is submitting. She wants this as much as I do. Over the past few hours I wondered what noises she would make when I buried myself in her. I need to find out. I release her ear to look into her eyes once again.
“Life is too short.” Before she can respond, I crush my lips to hers. I mold my hand over her breast, running my thumb over her hardened nipple. And when I pinch it through the fabric of her tank top, her sexy little moan into my mouth gives her away.
She reluctantly breaks the kiss and says, “I really gotta go.”
“Okay…I understand,” I shock her by not arguing. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I ask and simultaneously run my hand over the smooth skin of her leg. A flash of disappointment passes over her face. She probably expected more of a fight from me. She schools her features and nods with a smile.
“Can I get one more kiss?”
Her response is to kiss me. She sinks her fingers into my hair, gripping it desperately as our kiss intensifies. A few very long minutes later, she pulls away. “I’ll come by to pick you up around eleven.”
“Sounds good.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She opens her door and walks over to her car. Before she gets in, she turns and waves.
Hmmm. I struck out. I may have overestimated my charms. I’ll have to try harder tomorrow.
Missy arrived at the hotel at eleven on the nose. She called me from the lobby, and I suggested she come to my room since I needed a few minutes. She gave me some lame excuse, and I laughed at her reason. I knew damn well she didn’t trust herself to be in my room again. I can’t say I blame her.
This morning I decided to pull back on my advances, but tease her just enough. She sat in the
lobby waiting for me. As soon as I laid my eyes on her I became excited about our day, or specifically how it would be ending. She looked hot in another pair of short shorts and a fitted T-shirt. Today, her hair was long and loose. I prefer blondes. But as I walked down the hall toward her, I found myself wanting to bury my hands in her chocolate brown hair while I rode her from behind. I had a vision of her hair falling halfway down her back as she lifted her head during her climax. It was a good vision. So by the time I came face to face with Missy in the lobby, I was sporting a raging hard-on…and I told her so.
She dragged me all over Vegas, showing me all the necessary tourist attractions. We did some gambling, some partying, and some kissing. We picked up some beer and food, and came back to the hotel to chill out. Now, here we are…and I’m getting antsy.
As she sits cross-legged on the chair in the corner, she giggles again at nothing in particular. She suddenly stops laughing long enough to ask, “Wait, what did you ask me?”
“Why are you all the way over there?”
The smile leaves her face and she says, “It’s safer.”
“Safe sucks…unless you’re fucking. Then it’s necessary.”
“You are unreal,” she announces while shaking her head.
“It’s true.” I pat the spot next to me on the bed and say, “Come closer. I hate shouting.”
When she doesn’t move, I add, “Come on. I don’t bite, unless you’re into that.”
She takes a long swig of her beer and then another. She must be drunk, because her next move is to walk over to me and sit on my lap.
“Much better.”
“I know I’m going to regret this,” she says sarcastically.
“Are you drunk? I prefer to fuck you when you’ll be able to respond and remember.”
“No, I’m not drunk. But I am horny as hell.”
“I can help with that.” She watches me through hooded eyes for several long minutes. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or the visual she is conjuring up in her mind right now that puts her in a daze.
“This is a bad idea,” she admits in one last pathetic attempt to stop me.
I skim a fingertip down her neck, straight to her nipple. I then pinch and twist it roughly through her T-shirt. She startles at my assault. While staring into her eyes, I release it and mold my hand gently over her entire breast. “Like I said, life is too short.”
When I trace a path with my tongue from her jaw to her ear, she pants audibly. As I’m nibbling on the skin on the side of her neck, she moans, “Oh God.”
“Like that?”
She nods and tilts her head further to give me better access. Her breathing becomes more ragged with every flick of my tongue.
“Can I fuck you now?”
With her eyes closed, she nods and then squeals when in one fast motion I lift her, throwing her on the center of the bed. Instead of joining her, I stand at the foot. I remove a condom from my pocket and toss it next to her. Her expression becomes serious when I begin to remove my clothes. She licks her lips just as I drop my jeans. I’m commando. My stiff cock leaves no doubt to my state of mind. I stroke myself slowly from base to tip, over and over. The more I stroke, the more she squirms. Without invitation, she removes her own clothes. Once she is as bare as I am, she reaches between her legs and strokes herself slowly.
Her body is smoking hot. She has a tattoo of a heart with wings on one hip and a pair of dice on the other.
“I’d rather you be doing this,” she says through her pants.
“Keep going,” I command. She listens and quickens her motions. Her eyes are glued to my hand stroking my cock. I can go for hours. From the look on her face, she can’t. She breaks our eye contact when her orgasm comes fast and hard. Just the way I’m going to fuck her.
“You done?” I ask when her cheeks tinge pink. “Don’t be embarrassed. That was hot. Having your mouth wrapped around my cock will be even hotter.”
“Are you always this bossy?” she asks, her feistiness replacing her embarrassment.
“Yeah.”
She crawls over to me and straightens on her knees. I release my cock and grab her bare ass. I’m worked up. I can easily bury myself in her right now. Fuck all this pomp and circumstance. But I need to feel the inside of her mouth first…and I need to see if she’ll obey.
“Suck me.”
While watching me, she takes my cock in both hands. After a few seconds, I demand again, more forcibly. She lowers her body until her lips hit my tip. After she teases me with her tongue, I hold her head and insist, “Open.”
She looks up at me through her lashes, opening her mouth to let me in. Just as I predicted, it feels like heaven. She grips me tightly with one hand as her mouth works me over from tip to base. Her ability to take my entire length drives me to roughly tighten my hold on her head as I fuck her mouth. My mind goes to Taylor’s mouth on me instead of Missy’s. My heartbeats pound frantically in my chest, and the familiar stinging I can’t shake takes hold of my heart. I should be with Taylor right now. My thoughts take a dangerous turn and emotion starts to fuck with my libido. I abruptly pull out, leaving Missy confused.
“Was that not okay?” she asks, obviously hurt by my motion.
My response is to flip her over. Wordlessly, I roll on the condom. I grip her waist and thrust into her from behind. Just as I imagined, her hair cascades down her back when she arches her body. She moans and calls my name each time I slam into her. Each time she does, I slam harder. I choose not to say a word. Her cries increase with each thrust.
"Be quiet!" I demand. I need her to be quiet. I also need this to be over, and her noises are distracting me. My mind starts racing with dark thoughts. Dread takes over my emotions. It’s as fast as a flash of lightning. It leaves me no chance to brace myself for it, or to understand how to deal with it. It comes, destroys, and leaves in one swift motion. All this occurs as I’m still buried balls deep inside Missy.
Ignoring me, she screams and her pussy tightens around my cock. Thankfully, that's what my cock has been waiting for in order to finish this. My only sound is a guttural moan when I come inside of her. However, internally my mind is screaming FUCK!
Now that it’s over, I want her gone. I want to crawl into a hole and never wake up. Guilt washes over me. She was right…this was a huge mistake.
I pull out, pull the condom off, and walk into the bathroom. When I emerge, she is dressed and sitting in her favorite spot.
“What the fuck?” she asks through clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry. It’s not you it’s…”
“How cliché,” she interrupts my statement.
“Look, I’m still dealing with a lot of crap. You’re the first girl I’ve been with. I wasn’t prepared to…”
Shut the fuck up, Trestan. I need to shut the fuck up!
I owe her nothing. I had a great time, but that doesn’t mean I need to give her a piece of me. No one gets to have that. Especially, not a perfect stranger I only met twenty-four hours earlier.
“You weren’t prepared to what?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re a prick,” she spits out. “Hell, I knew you were only interested in fucking me, but then after today I thought differently.” She grabs her bag and walks to the door. “I take that back, you are just you. You can’t help being a prick. I’m the idiot.”
“Missy…”
She ignores my call, slamming the door behind her.
I try to justify the prick I’ve become. It’s just sex. No big deal. We both willingly participated in this. She could have easily said no. Besides, it’s just the way I will always be having sex from now on…without emotion. So, I better get used to it.
It’s literally ten minutes later when I’m in my truck getting the fuck out of Vegas. Did this pit stop backfire? Fuck, yeah. I’m no better than I was the day Taylor died. I search my brain for signs of what went wrong. I need to find a way to turn off my past. I need to be able to flip
a switch and become a robot.
Missy was a sweet girl. I think my mistake was getting to know her. If I keep the human element out of the equation, I won’t get hurt. If I’m honest with them up front, they won’t expect more than what I’m willing to offer…mindless fucking. No secrets and total transparency is the only way to avoid any guilt afterwards.
I’m sure there are plenty of chicks willing to just fuck. There isn’t a female on earth who can replace Taylor. She’s gone. It’s time to grow a set of balls and grow up. No more emotion. It’s time to stick to my plan. Re-invent myself and squeeze all the pleasure I can out of fucking life. Fuck anyone who gets in my way.
The drive to L.A. goes by unseen. During the drive I make a mental checklist of all the things I must do the minute I arrive.
Find an apartment.
Find a job.
Change my name.
Live my new life without excuses.
I should have that tattooed on my body. In fact, I think I will. I think I’ll ink my body with every poignant life motto that I need to constantly remind myself of. Forever mark where I’ve been, where I plan on going.
It’s the middle of the night, and the last thing on my mind right now is sleep. I purchase a few newspapers and find an all-night diner. I’m not leaving until I find several options for housing and employment. The apartment part is easy. There seems to be tons of places listed in the shady areas of L.A. I have no problem with that. I would dare anyone to fuck with me.
The job options aren’t that plentiful, and most are kitchen staff or waiting tables. There are a few for parking cars. I’m not doing that again. After half a dozen cups of coffee, I decide to give up on the job search. I reason with myself that I can try again tomorrow. Besides, I’ll need a permanent address to get a job anyway.
Jacked up on caffeine, I drive around the neighborhood that advertises most of the apartments I’ll be visiting. Leaving my suitcase in the cab of my truck, I grab the guitar case that holds my most important possessions and hit a local hardware store. I purchase a sturdy utility knife, an industrial strength deadbolt lock, a fireproof lockbox, and some random tools.