Paradise Road

by C. J. Duggan

  Everyone in the bar, including Cassie, watched on silently as two waterlogged people with murderous dispositions left a slippery trail along the floor and up the stairs. I couldn’t bring myself to look at them, I was too busy thinking of ways to murder Dean Saville as I stomped up the stairway after him. He opened my door, throwing my suitcase roughly inside.

  ‘Hey!’ I yelled, pushing past him after my bag, picking up the sodden suitcase to stand on its right side. ‘Don’t throw it.’

  My attention snapped from fussing over my suitcase to hearing the door slam, realising that Dean was standing in front of it. I swallowed, standing slowly as we looked at each other: wet, dishevelled and angry. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Luckily there was no knife to speak of because the way we were looking at each other we probably would have tried to murder one another had there been one. I left my suitcase, caring little if it fell over on its side as I went to stand before Dean.

  ‘Get out of my room.’

  Dean scoffed. ‘What, you want it back now, do you?’

  ‘Only until the bus comes.’

  Dean rolled his eyes. ‘When are you going to grow up, Lexie? I mean, it’s really good to see that turning eighteen has made you more responsible. Look at you.’

  I glanced down at the puddle forming at my feet and my sodden attire. ‘Look at me? Look at you!’ I yelled, pulling at his sodden t-shirt. His hand caught my wrist with such lightning speed I was taken aback with how quick he was, and how my heart beat so fast feeling him touch me, feeling the strength behind his hold, but above all hating the traitorous thrill that surged inside me when my eyes flicked up from his hold to meet his gaze. I knew I was in trouble, I knew it the moment I saw his eyes dart briefly to my lips, I knew it when I didn’t fight his hold – if anything, I leant into it – I knew it when I was aware of nothing other than my breathing, deep and heavy, and I knew exactly how much trouble that meant when I noticed that Dean’s matched my own. And even though the anger we had still remained, it morphed into something more, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, and what was more disturbing was that I really didn’t want to.

  Chapter Forty

  Pulling me forward Dean crushed his mouth against mine, cupping my face and kissing me so passionately I felt the violent thrill twist in the pit of my stomach as my hands grabbed the damp fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him into me with a desperation that surprised and excited me. His tongue delved, searching, teasing, tasting me in a way I had never experienced before. I felt like a goddess under his touch, the way his fingers expertly danced across my wet, sensitive skin that was speckled with goosebumps, my nipples hardened and exposed through my sodden clothing. I gasped as he pulled me around, pressing my back against the grooves of the wooden door. His hand skimmed down over my breast, trailing down, down. A shiver ran along my spine, the anticipation of where he might go, but when his hand instead moved away from me, I was all but ready to protest when I heard the delicate click of the lock on the door. Only when my eyes briefly followed where his hand actually was, clicking the button on the door handle, did I get it as my eyes lifted to meet his, sparkling with amusement as he once more lowered his mouth on mine, kissing me deeply, robbing me of breath and pressing me hard against the door. He pulled away, hovering against my mouth, taunting me by being so close yet not giving me what I wanted, the added torture of his thumb skimming across my bottom lip, his free hand hovering and flicking playfully at the top button of my skirt.

  ‘You still want nothing from me?’ he whispered against my mouth.

  ‘No. Nothing.’ I breathed out the lie. I felt his lips smile against mine, before he kissed me again, this time slower, softer. His touch skimmed across my body as if I were made of glass. I felt very much on the edge, as if I could shatter underneath him at any moment as his hot lips traced a line down my neck. Telling him I didn’t want anything from him was an absolute lie, because as he playfully nipped at my earlobe and whispered dirty promises into my ear, all that ran through my mind was what I did want from him, or, more appropriately, what I wanted him to do to me.

  He was completely in control and I could feel the desperation building inside me. There was an inner urge, one I didn’t know existed, almost like another Lexie, the one that was working to peel the damp fabric from Dean’s body. He quickly caught on, finishing the job for me as he removed his t-shirt for me, over his head, and threw it to the ground. My hands slid up over his chest, his skin damp, smooth but blisteringly hot to touch. His body was built in all the right places, curves and dips in his torso that made for a beautiful landscape, one I wanted to explore, until Dean flinched as my fingers traced up his rib cage. He grabbed my hands and kissed my fingers with a small smile.

  I raised my brow. ‘Ticklish?’ I mused, loving this small vulnerability I had just discovered. He didn’t answer. Instead, he distracted me with his lips, his body pressing against mine as he took my mouth as if he was dependent on it for survival, stealing my breaths, making me whimper as he slowly peeled my top up and over my head, only then breaking away from me to throw it aside, before lowering his head to kiss me through my wet bra, already see-through from the rain. My head thudded against the door as I closed my eyes, my hands sliding through the wet tendrils of his thick hair as he tasted me. I was lost in the throes of pleasure, feeling his hands holding me prisoner on either side of my waist until I felt his hand skim up to my shoulder to work on peeling the strap down, exposing me to him and his hot mouth.

  My breath hitched as he took my nipple into his mouth. Oh God, it felt good, so good, so utterly wicked as my hands grabbed at his hair and pulled him into me. Dean moved to slide down my other bra strap, freeing myself completely to him as his mouth moved to my other breast, bringing me undone, running his tongue over and nipping at the sensitive peak, the incredible heat of his tongue compared to the cool of my rain-soaked skin. I could feel my legs turning into jelly as a pressure built between my thighs. I could have cried when he broke away from me, but it wasn’t for long. His hands moved up my body, sliding up to edge the wet denim of my skirt over my hips. The wet fabric of my undies was now the only barrier between me and the hard bulge in his denim pressed against my thighs. I linked my hands around his neck. He lifted me as if I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he kissed me, deep, hard and in rhythm to his hips grinding me against the door. I groaned as he continued to move his hips, creating the most delicious friction that was robbing me of all my thoughts. His hot whispers against my neck only built the intensity.

  ‘You want this? You want me to fuck you against this door?’

  All I could do was nod and pull him closer to me, stopping his dirty mouth by kissing him into silence, trying to draw out the intense pleasure mounting inside me. I didn’t want it to stop, ever. How I had missed the feeling of desire, of the heat, the weight, the longing for more. Never would I have believed I had wanted it like this, but just like Dean it was raw, rough, intense with fleeting moments of tenderness. All I knew was I did want Dean to fuck me, I had never wanted anything more in my life and I didn’t know if it was built on the edge of a deeper emotion. All I knew was that I wasn’t afraid, and there wasn’t any part of me that said I shouldn’t be doing this, even though it was definitely something I shouldn’t be. The devil on my shoulder wanted this, wanted me to open myself up entirely and that was exactly what I was going to do.

  I took Dean’s hand and slowly guided it to touch me in my most intimate part. I looked him straight in the eyes.

  ‘I do want something from you,’ I said, my breaths heavy.

  Dean’s hand delved into the damp fabric of my undies, feeling exactly what I needed, teasing so slowly. He swallowed deeply. ‘What do you want, Lexie? Tell me what you want.’

  And just as he was about to slide his finger inside, as a promise of what was to come, I whispered against his mouth, ‘I want it all.’

  He closed his eyes, letting my words roll over him
as he placed his forehead against mine. He exhaled as if that was exactly what he’d wanted to hear, and as my reward he pushed his fingers inside me, catching my gasp and urging me to be quiet as his magic fingers worked me into a passionate frenzy. I was ready to scream, to explode under his touch when something else shattered the moment.

  Knock-knock-knock.

  ‘Lexie? Are you there?’ Laura’s voice sounded through the door.

  Fuck!

  Dean and I were frozen, looking at one another: my eyes reflecting a blind panic, no doubt, and his complete and utter annoyance. I clamped my hand across his mouth.

  ‘Um, hang on a second,’ I called out.

  Dean let me go, and panic kicked in as I righted my bra and he picked up his shirt, then mine. We didn’t need to voice what we were both thinking as we searched around for an alternative exit, one we knew didn’t exist. The window wasn’t an option, the single bed was too small to squeeze under and I had a blind, no curtain to hide behind. It was then our heads both snapped around to my oversized 1970s Art Deco wardrobe. Perfect!

  Dean skidded across to it, opening it up and stepping inside; we were doing our best not to laugh, but as a last-ditch reminder I placed my finger over my lips for him to be quiet as I closed the wardrobe door behind me. I then frantically worked on grabbing a towel to wrap my wet hair in a turban-like twist on my head. I peeled off my bra, throwing it into the washing basket as I wrapped myself into another towel. I looked at my flushed complexion in the mirror, and with the light sheen across my face I very much looked like I had just stepped out of the shower … perfect! I only hoped Dean could remain quiet and that there was enough ventilation in there. I would have to make this quick.

  ‘Coming!’ I called out, hearing a small laugh from the wardrobe. I paused, rolling my eyes before whispering shhhh. What I really wanted to say was get your mind out of the gutter.

  I opened the door to Laura. ‘About time,’ she said, pushing past me into my room.

  ‘Sorry, I just got out of the shower,’ I said.

  Laura glanced around my room. ‘I thought you didn’t have a shower?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, no, I don’t, I have to use the one down the hall.’

  Laura made herself at home by sitting on the edge of my bed, idly flipping through my Cosmo magazine.

  ‘So, what brings you to these parts?’ I tried to change the subject. My eyes shifted to where my suitcase sat on the opposite side of my room where Dean had thrown it. I hoped Laura would stay immersed in the glossed pages before her, but like all things with Laura, she chucked away the magazine, seemingly bored already, until she straightened, her eyes locking with mine, wild with excitement.

  ‘Oh no you don’t!’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  Crap, had she noticed the suitcase, and how unusually tidy my room was?

  ‘Don’t act all coy and innocent with me, Lexie Atkinson. Tell me what the hell happened last night.’

  Oh God.

  I cringed, hoping they built soundproof wardrobes in the ’70s.

  ‘Um, look, how about I get dressed and we go grab some Wendy’s?’ I suggested.

  ‘Nah-ah, you are going to tell me right now. I heard you got into a scrag fight with Lucy Fell in the pool room?’

  Oh-no-no-no-no-no …

  There was no way of stopping this, of doing any kind of damage control, short of bashing Laura unconscious right now.

  ‘I think you’re getting a little carried away with rumours.’ I tried to laugh it off, make it sound crazy, and hearing it out loud it did sound crazy.

  ‘Oh, yeah, and the rumours about you and Ballantine disappearing into the back alleyway aren’t true either, huh?’ Laura wiggled her eyebrows.

  Oh God, please just shut up. I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

  ‘Honestly, Lexie, bar room brawling and hanging out with hot boys in alleyways. Why does all the exciting stuff happen when I’m not around?’

  ‘Trust me, nothing exciting happened, and how many times do I have to tell you about listening to rumours?’ I replied, grabbing her arm and yanking her to stand, as good as frogmarching her to the door. ‘Now, I have to get dressed, I have training to do, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Ahh, so is Darth Vader back from his trip then?’ Laura asked.

  I really wanted to end this conversation right now.

  ‘Goodbye, Laura, I have to get ready,’ I insisted. I didn’t have to work too hard at putting on the panic, knowing Dean was listening to every word of this conversation was making me feel sick.

  ‘Well, unless you tell me something remotely juicy, I won’t go,’ she said, crossing her arms.

  ‘How old are you, five?’ I accused her angrily.

  Laura smiled, batting her eyelashes. ‘Just a tiny bit of gossip, please.’

  ‘Okay, but only once you’re out the door.’

  ‘I’ll stand here,’ she said, wedging herself in the open doorway, ‘just so you don’t trick me.’ She waited expectantly.

  I thought for a long moment. What hot goss could I tell her? What hot goss did I know?

  I kissed Dean, I kissed Dean, I kissed Dean, I screamed inside my head.

  I blocked it out, thinking of something more appropriate.

  ‘Okay, here’s the goss … Amanda and Boon are back together.’ And before I could take in her shocked, open-mouthed look I nudged her out of the doorway and closed the door, locking it behind her.

  ‘Oh. My. God! Wait until I get home and see Boon,’ came the outraged, muffled reply through the door. I would have laughed but I knew I had a much more pressing issue at hand.

  I turned to see Dean making his way out of the cupboard.

  ‘Good ol’ Laura … she’s so –’

  ‘Annoying,’ he deadpanned.

  ‘And funny … She is good value, if not something of a romancer.’ I wanted to chuck that in for good measure, hoping that he wasn’t like everyone else in Paradise and believed everything he heard.

  ‘Yeah, well, I guess last night’s video surveillance should sort a few rumours out,’ he said darkly, looking at me with his knowing eyes.

  Oh shit.

  He was going to look at the tapes, see me working the bar when he’d explicitly told me not to, see me storming into the bar picking a fight with Ballantine, then my wrestle with Lucy, and oh God, was there alley footage of me and Ballantine? I felt sick, ashamed.

  ‘Is that why you were leaving?’

  ‘I thought I would save you the trouble of firing me.’

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ he said coldly, moving to the door.

  ‘Dean?’

  He paused beside me, looking down on me, his face like thunder. I desperately wanted to shy away. ‘For what it’s worth, Cassie had nothing to do with any of it. Everything she does is in the best interest of the bar. I simply bullied her into letting me do things around here.’

  Dean straightened. ‘Bullying, tampering, fighting, loitering: I don’t remember any of those attributes on your résumé.’

  I blushed, clutching my towel tighter around me. ‘I’m not proud of myself.’

  He shrugged. ‘It is what it is.’

  My eyes snapped up. Is that all? What did that even mean? Did he even care that I was in the back alley with Ballantine? His stony, emotionless gaze said he didn’t and it finally dawned on me. He’d just wanted a quickie against the door: no strings attached, no emotional baggage. I could have kicked myself for confusing the emotion between lust and more. Holy shit, I nearly lost my virginity to Dean Saville. Thank God Laura had interrupted us. I felt like such an idiot, so utterly, utterly stupid.

  ‘You’re right, people make mistakes all the time,’ I said coolly.

  Dean nodded. ‘Some bigger than most.’

  OUCH!

  I tried to let my expression remain neutral but no doubt something flashed in my eyes. ‘Yeah, well, I have a few things to sort out, so –’

  Dean didn’t seem
overly interested. He moved towards the door to leave.

  His lack of a response was more unnerving than anything. Was I fired, out on the streets? I guessed only time would tell.

  I stood there long enough to watch him walk down the hall without so much as a backwards glance before I slammed my door closed, my heart racing, my thoughts in a whirl.

  What the hell had just happened?

  Chapter Forty-One

  The pool room incident gave me a certain amount of cringeworthy street cred at school, fuelled by the usual rumour mill that had by now completely sensationalised the reality of the actual story. By the week’s end, the story had blown out to me having been sent to Paradise after a stint in juvie and that I enjoyed kinky sex and collecting knives in my spare time. I had gone from Lexie Atkinson, mousey new girl, to that chick who works at the pub and beats up chicks for kicks. I had been all about reinventing myself but this was ridiculous.

  I had also gained another more worrying status, one that I should have been used to, but whenever I overheard whisperings or the none-too-subtle questions about me and Dean being more than just employer and employee, well, that just made me feel awkward.

  With the week moving on at an agonisingly slow pace, Dean avoided me at every turn and if there was an exchange I was lucky to even get a grunt for a response. I suppose that was better than I’d expected, which was to be given my marching orders. I never knew if he saw the tape from Saturday night but it was never mentioned. As for any bar shifts midweek or otherwise, my name was never on the roster and I didn’t dare ask. All I wanted to do was fly under the radar for a while, not draw attention to myself.

  The moment in my room seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was something that was always on my mind every time I sat in my room, and that was a lot. It took a good while for Cassie to decide she’d speak to me again. Thankfully Dean didn’t seem to blame her for any of my bad behaviour, and I’d sworn to myself that I would toe the line, lay low and keep my mouth shut. No wonder the week had gone on for so long. There was silence in all aspects of my life, Ballantine included. I knew it would probably come down to me having to make a decision about our future. Whether I wanted to rekindle what we’d had?