Ten Night Stand

by Mickey Miller

  “Already did.” I smiled with a confused expression.

  Jake chuckled. “I mean come here. Come into me.”

  I scooted to his side, and he wrapped me up in his arms. The AC was on, but our bodies were so hot together, I was surprised there wasn’t steam coming off us.

  “Jake, thanks,” I said, still breathless and dazed.

  “Thank you? Fuck, this is a win-win situation.”

  “Oh really, how is it win-win?”

  “Remember what we said at the beginning? Your pussy is wet and—”

  “Your cock is hard,” I said, cutting him off. “Well, was hard,” I joked.

  “You keep up this attitude and it won’t be long before that changes,” he said, stroking my hair.

  “Really? That’s all it takes?”

  He shook his head. “You know I like it when you talk dirty.”

  The truth was, I didn’t mind it either. Smiling, I settled against his chest and fell asleep.

  24

  It was beautiful.

  She’d challenged me every second of the way. Now she was mine, and I didn’t want to let her go. It had been a while since I’d felt this way. Instead of wanting her to get the fuck out of my room after we had slept together, I wanted to keep her as close as possible.

  And do it again.

  Outside my window, dawn was breaking.

  I was restless. All I could think about was Grant fucking Newman and how badly I wanted to hurt him for laying a hand on Andrea. I wanted that punch in the bar back. If I could do it again, I’d hit him so hard—fuck the hospital—he’d be in the morgue.

  My mind went in circles as I worked myself up, imagining how the scene between the two of them went down. Andrea was strong-willed, but even so, she was clearly still working some shit out.

  I was too though, so I guess it all worked out in the end.

  She slept so peacefully, and I stared at her like a creep while her chest contracted and expanded, running my finger from her calves to her thighs, hips, up her midsection to her shoulders before I kissed her on the neck.

  She let out a tiny moan and wiggled her ass into me. The blood began to flow to my cock again.

  I’d spent the last several years running around like a douchebag playboy, spending time with Tumblr girls with skinny waists and drug habits that I had no interest in. Too much time wasted. I’d told myself that was the best I’d ever get, especially after the Dani-Danny fiasco. My college sweetheart had taught me to not think too deeply about having relationships, just meaningless hookups where no one got hurt and it was all about a fun time. It wasn’t just Dani’s betrayal, but the fact that I didn’t have very many good examples of healthy male-female relationships.

  Now, the thought running through my head was, How the hell did I land a girl like Andrea? Cuz I sure as hell didn’t deserve her.

  She spoke like a lady and screwed like a pro, and I never would have figured she was a virgin. She was so confident, and she trusted me not to hurt her. Right now, I was feeling things I thought I was no longer capable of feeling given how jaded I’d become. And here I was with a fucking princess. It felt like Andrea was my prize for a rocky childhood.

  I swept my hand lightly along her leg, enjoying the soft touch of her flesh. She turned her head upward and nuzzled her brown hair into me.

  I don’t know if she was sleeping or what, but she gently took my hand and guided it to the wet spot between her legs.

  “Hey,” I said softly.

  “Hey yourself,” she responded.

  “We fell asleep with the lights on,” I said, stating the obvious.

  “And I haven’t slept this good in days. Wait.”

  She got up from the bed, turned off the lights, and snagged a condom from the top of my dresser before snuggling back into bed with me.

  “You want to have round two?” She asked so politely, there was no way I could say no.

  Who were we kidding? She had basically read my mind.

  A few hours later, I finally woke up, which meant I had finally been able to fall asleep after our last round.

  “Good morning again,” she purred, propping herself up on her elbow.

  “Morning.” I smiled back.

  “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” she said drowsily.

  “So early,” I growled back.

  “I know, but I had a dream last night that we got matching tattoos, and I’m curious now. I never asked you what those mean.”

  She ran her hand over my chest, specifically over the mirror image tattoos I had. Suddenly, a ball of anxiety formed in my stomach.

  “Diggs, you don’t want to know…”

  She looked back at me with those stunning blue eyes of hers and fluttered them. She made it so hard for me to stay closed off.

  “Please,” I said, suddenly feeling awake.

  “You don’t feel comfortable with me?” She swallowed and turned away from me.

  “Wait. Sorry. I do. Listen, I’ve never told anyone about these tattoos. No one. Do you realize how many times I’ve had to make up shit about these? I’ll tell you.”

  She still had her back toward me, so I crept behind her and pressed myself into her back as I whispered in her ear, “When I was fifteen, I was in a bad place. I had just changed foster homes again, and my new neighborhood was in gang territory. Basically, I had a choice. Get beat up every day at school, or join a gang.”

  She spun her head back toward me, touching her forehead to my chin.

  “You joined a gang?”

  “For the first three months of that school year, I’d refused. They would beat me up every day. But finally, they found out I had a sister and started threatening her. So I did what they asked.”

  She spun all the way around to face me, on her side.

  “And they made you get these two tattoos—what do they say?”

  I sighed. “Trust and Mi vida loca—they look backwards for you, but if I look in the mirror, I read them perfectly. The gang leaders said they wanted me to look at them every day in the mirror so I would remember I was one of them—that was the same gang that those guys who tried to jump you were in.”

  She wiped a tear that ran down her cheek. “Why didn’t you just get them removed?”

  I paused for a moment to think while I ran my hand up and down the side of her body. She had just asked me a damn good question.

  “I don’t know. I guess…I guess I have thought about it. But in the end, it’s the scars that form you and make you who you are as much as the positive experiences. I like to look at them and remember that I’m the fucker who made it out.”

  We made eye contact, and I realized that Andrea, while she didn’t have tattoos to remember them by, had her own scars she carried with her. As I caught myself looking up at the ceiling, I felt Andrea’s lips on my chest. I looked down to see her kissing my tattoos. She kissed both of them, then looked up at me.

  “Never be ashamed to show me your scars,” she said. “I won’t be ashamed to show you mine.”

  Her teary expression changed into a slight grin. “Besides, your tattoos are hot A-F.”

  I tilted my head. “Did you just say hot A-F? As in, hot as fuck?”

  She grinned sheepishly. “Yes.”

  “One of these days, Andrea, I’m going to get you talking dirty.”

  I growled at her and brought her body into mine for a kiss.

  After a moment, she pulled away. “Hey, maybe we have time for one more. Can you check what time it is though?”

  I rolled over and checked my phone.

  “Shit, Diggs. It’s quarter to nine. What time do you have to be at work?”

  She rubbed her eyes and looked me. “It’s...what time?”

  “Almost nine.”

  Her eyes popped open in alarm. “Crap, crap, crap!” She jumped up from the bed and went about my bedroom and the living room and the couch area, gathering her clothes in all the different places she had shed them the night before.r />
  “I wish you wouldn’t have to hurry out of here. Aren’t I your biggest project anyways?”

  “Well, yes,” she yelled from the other room. “But my boss doesn’t need to know that I’m sleeping with you.”

  “So what, I’m just going to be your secret side ho?” I ribbed as I walked into the living room. I had an inkling, and I reached into the couch and pulled out her white thong. I handed it to her with a smile.

  She returned my gaze with a quizzical look. “How the hell did these...you know what? I’m not even going to ask. I was in a haze for about two hours last night.”

  “Is that all?” I asked, grabbing her body and pulling her into mine. She was still naked, holding all of her clothes in her arms. I kissed her on the forehead and looked down at her. She stepped into her thong and skirt.

  “Argh, this is just a little bit skimpy for the office, but I’ll have to let it slide. No time to go home.”

  My phone buzzed, and I checked the number.

  I got so many random sales calls, I basically never answered unless I knew the number or was expecting a call, but this was from a 312 number, so I decided to pick it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Jake Napleton?” a female voice asked.

  I frowned, hearing lots of noises in the background, including an ambulance and shouting voices. “Yeah… Who is this?”

  “My name is Janice Caldwell. I live near Keri and the boys,” she said, as though that explained it all.

  “Oh-kay, and…?”

  She huffed and puffed. “Keri Straub?”

  Oh shit. “Tate’s aunt?” I asked, shocked.

  Andrea’s ears perked up, and she gave me a look of concern, purse in hand and slipping her shoes on. I shook my head gravely. She took a step towards me, but she stopped when her phone started ringing. Go, I mouthed, but she came to me to give me a kiss on the cheek, which took me by complete surprise. But a good surprise.

  “See you later?” she whispered.

  I nodded, smiling briefly.

  “I’ll pick up something, okay?” She looked down at her phone, which was pinging like crazy. “Crap, so late. Have a great day baby…” she said quickly with a wave, her eyes still on her phone. She was gone before I could return the favor.

  “Mr. Napleton?” Janice snapped.

  I was still staring after the door as it clicked shut.

  “Hey! You! You hearin’ me?” Janice went on.

  Fuck. “Uh, yeah?” I said, focusing back on the conversation, but it was hard. “What’s wrong?”

  “Tate gave me your number. He said you told him to call you if anything ever happened?”

  My gut twisted. “Yes,” I said hoarsely. “What happened?”

  “Keri was shot while on her way home from work last night. It’s…not looking good,” she said, her voice hard and grim. But then it softened just a little. “With the situation with Keri’s son, Tate’s alone. But I can’t be watching him after this morning. I got my own family to take care of, see?”

  Oh shit, I thought, processing all that. “I understand, can I talk to Tate, please?”

  That got me another sigh, but there was a jostling of the phone and then—

  “Coach N?” came a wobbly voice. “Is that really you?” My heart dropped from out of my chest cavity to the floor. I heard panic in his voice.

  “It’s me, Tate. How ya doin’, kiddo?”

  “Okay, I guess. Coach N, my auntie got shot.”

  I bit my lip and resisted letting loose a string of swears. A wave of emotion came over me. I loved this fucking town most of the time, but this was one of the times I hated it more than ever.

  “I’m so sorry, Tate. Where are you right now?”

  “I’m at the hospital.”

  “Okay. But which hospital are you at, Tate? South Side?”

  A brief pause, then, “Yeah… That’s what Janice says.”

  “You stay put. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Okay?”

  For an eight-year-old, he sure as hell was a lot calmer than I would be in this situation.

  “Tate. You there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Stay right where you are,” I told him, afraid for him, hoping it would all turn out okay, but knowing it probably wouldn’t. “I’ll come get you. You won’t be alone in this.”

  25

  I sat at my desk, sipping on the iced Starbucks vanilla sweet cream coffee that I had ordered this Wednesday morning. The night had been worth it, but I was as tired as a dog now, and I had to at least feign working, especially the way Steve had been on me lately. I was contemplating working on some ad copy he’d wanted me to brainstorm, but instead I pulled up Jake’s Instagram page.

  It felt a little surreal pulling up a gorgeous man’s page with whom I’d lost my virginity to the night before. In the classical sense, as Jake had so diplomatically put it. I had no idea how he’d gotten me to say some of those things, but it hadn’t felt strange saying them. On the other hand, it felt like a whole new world had been opened up to me where I could be another form of myself; a liberated version of myself.

  But only with him.

  The picture of Jake and Tate was such a contrast to all of the other thumbnails. It was literally the only one where he was smiling and not trying to look like a cocky asshole.

  I clicked on the thumbnail to see if the picture had gotten any action since I’d posted it the night before.

  What I saw made me nearly spill the second half of my iced coffee all over my tank top and shriek with surprise.

  Of course, Steve walked by right then.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Uh, yes. I mean, more than okay!” I said, unable to contain my smile.

  He frowned just as Amy walked over to my cube.

  “Andrea, you okay? Oh my God, you spilled coffee all over you!” Her eyes went from my wet tank top to the screen. “Dear God! This picture of Jake Napleton has over three million likes?”

  I beamed with pride. “Yes. It does. Jake’s finally taking some of my advice. I’ve gotten to know him a little bit, and he’s not such a frat bro after all, it turns out. He actually does have a soft side.”

  Steve laughed. “Ha! Soft side. That’ll be the day. Look, I’m as impressed as anyone that you were able to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes with this picture. I mean, come on! Jake playing with a cute little mop-headed kid who also happens to have the same jersey number as he does? Jesus, Andrea. I said re-brand, not Photoshop cute kids for sympathy pictures.”

  “These aren’t Photoshopped,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Yeah, whatever. And I have this head of hair without using Rogaine. Hey, it works either way. That’s all that counts, sweetheart.”

  My blood boiled. Steve had just discredited the single most important part of my campaign. But worse, he called me sweetheart.

  “Uh, Steve, sorry to interrupt,” Amy said, eying me and then Steve. “But the reason I came over here was that Marge in accounting was asking for you. Something about the Catalina Wine account?”

  Steve eyed Amy suspiciously. “Of course. I’ll be right over.” He seemed to say the words begrudgingly. He turned to me one last time. “All I’m saying is that if this re-branding campaign comes crashing down, it’s your ass, not mine.”

  I gulped and nodded.

  Once Steve had walked away a safe distance, Amy half-sat on my desk. “Even when you do right you do wrong! This picture is incredible.”

  “I know,” I said, shaking my head and using a paper napkin in vain on my clothes.

  She looked around, as if checking to see if someone would be walking by, leaned closer to me, and spoke in a low voice, “So how did you get that picture anyway? It is a little tough to believe.”

  “Well, the night that I stalked Jake I—”

  “You stalked Jake?” Amy exclaimed, eyes bugging. “What?”

  “Well, only because Steve wanted me to,” I said, a little defensively.<
br />
  Amy had a confused look on her face. She shook her head. “I don’t follow.”

  “It’s not important. Just know that Jake actually is a decent guy at heart. Even if he does feel the need to punch people out once in a while.”

  The corners of Amy’s mouth curved upward in a wry smile. “Yeah. He specifically feels the need to punch guys that get close to you.”

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes a little.

  “Oh come on,” Amy continued, not buying it. “Something is going on.” She made a gesture to my rumpled outfit. “Never mind that you actually got through to him if that pic is any indication, but you seem different, too…”

  I didn’t want to kiss and tell. But if I couldn’t tell Amy, who could I tell?

  “I’m going to tell you something, but you cannot tell anyone else. I’m swearing you to secrecy.” I arched an eyebrow, inviting her to reply and indicating just how serious I was about keeping this on the down-low.

  She raised her right hand and placed her left on my iced coffee cup.

  “I, Amy Kershaw, do solemnly swear that I will never tell a soul what you are about to tell me.” She dropped the serious act and leaned toward me with an excited grin. “Oh God, now please tell me. Tell me the dirty details.”

  I waved her closer to me and cupped my hand around her ear like we were back in second grade playing telephone. “We did it. Like, all of it.”

  Her eyes widened. “Get out!”

  I pursed my lips and nodded. Her jaw dropped. “So? How was his…ahem…unit?”

  “Can we talk about this later? I’ll fill you in, I swear. It’s just…” I looked over at the screen of my computer, then back at where Steve was standing a few cubicles away, still talking to Marge in accounting.

  “I know, I know. You feel like you’re on your last straw here. Well, three million likes, shoot, if that doesn’t get you out of Steve’s doghouse, I don’t know what will. Good job on that one, Andrea. Drinks after work?”

  I nodded. This seemed like one of those “you only live once” moments. God, the city was turning me into a happy hour girl.