We Shouldn't and Yet...

by Stephanie Witter

  I nod and gratefully take the beer he’s extending me. Our fingers briefly brush and while he’s nice and very good-looking, nothing stirs inside of me, when one look from Jensen has me burning up.

  I take a mouthful of beer and swallow slowly, hoping that the cold liquid will refresh me enough to last another half hour before I feign exhaustion and get out of here.

  “I know we’ve only just met so I hope I’m not coming on too strong, but would you like to have a drink or a coffee sometime?’’

  I choke on my beer and discreetly dry my lips, my eyes slanting to Jensen. I don’t know if he’s heard Wesley, but he looks ready to pounce and this time around it’s not to fulfill his lust, but to pound someone’s head. His eyes go from me to Wesley, bringing his freshly poured whiskey to his lips.

  “Uh…I—I guess so. That’d be nice,’’ I say, stuttering and weakly smiling. I steady my hand holding the beer bottle on my thigh, the cold steamy glass freezing my thigh through the thin cream fabric of my skirt.

  Wesley’s smile gets bigger and I have to say he’s really nice to look at. Maybe agreeing to go out with him isn’t such a bad idea after all. I do need to forget Jensen and while I’m not ready to date anyone, even though I still regret and feel guilty after what happened with Jensen, going for a drink with a man doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a date. I think.

  “It’s a date, then,’’ he says, bursting my weak delusion and giving me a sexy wink.

  I nod slowly, my neck stiff.

  “A date?’’ Hal butts in, his voice flat as he straightens up next to me, his shoulder pushing against my elbow. “You two are going out on a date?’’

  Silence falls around all of us as Jensen tosses back another glass of whiskey. Quentin’s frown falls on Jensen and then goes to me and I feel myself blush. He must know what happened, then. Hal’s eyes are hard on me, but his face is devoid of any expression. The others, Tracy, Paul, and Marco lean back on the couch as if getting ready to watch a movie.

  Wesley, suddenly more hesitant, shrugs. “Well, yes.’’

  Jensen puts his empty glass on the coffee table with force and I cringe, afraid the glass might actually shatter in his palm and hurt him. He stands up on stiff legs and walks to the small bench next to the front door. He grabs his helmet and Quentin quickly follows him, snatching the other one next to Jensen’s. “We’re out. We’ll be back late, Hal.’’ Jensen sounds distant, but his son doesn’t seem to hear him. He’s still watching me closely while I’m keeping a close eye on the older men walking out.

  When their bikes roar to life outside, I get my wits back and shrug. “Stop acting like my big brother, Hal. I’m fine, honest.’’

  He shakes his head and slowly goes back to talking with the others, but his shoulders are still tense and he doesn’t look back at me once. I’m left talking with his friends and Wesley while my mind is with a certain bike and its owner.

  I fake a yawn after another thirty minutes of idle chit-chat and take my leave with a wave to the others, my number in Wesley’s phone and a half hearted hug from Hal who doesn’t meet my eyes.

  And now, all I’m thinking about is where Jensen is. No, to be honest all I’m thinking is with whom he is with and the possible answer is too painful. But it shouldn’t be.

  Where Jensen is concerned there’s a lot of things that shouldn’t be, but are.

  ***

  JENSEN

  I look around the packed bar. Behind the bar, Q’s employee, Yury, a young guy who grew up in the city but moved here a couple of years ago is tending the bar on his own while two waitresses run the room to tend to the Friday night crowd.

  Q peels off the label of his beer, his eyes not watching his employees for once. I’m the lucky bastard who has all his attention. He’s still fuming after I’ve taken my bike with too much alcohol in my blood for it to be safe, but now that his rant is over I don’t care. It’s not like I’m going to go back home on the damn thing. I’ll call a cab.

  “Ease off, Q. The booze is only starting to hit me now.’’ I toss back the last of my whiskey and lean back, knowing full well that he’s going to cut me off if I ask for a beer.

  “That’s not the fucking point, you fucker.’’ He toys with his wedding band, his thumb turning it around his ring finger. “What was that shit back at your house? You couldn’t be more obvious.’’

  I cross my arms and look away. “It was either leaving or bashing in that pretty Wesley’s head. And I don’t want to hear ya, okay?’’ I say, my slur getting stronger now as the bar starts to swim in front of my eyes.

  “What game are you playing?’’

  I laugh and lean over the table, uncrossing my arms and holding up my sluggish upper body with my elbows. “I’m not playing, Q. You wanna know what I was thinking ‘bout back there?’’ I lick my dry lips, everything seeming to slow down around me. “All I was thinking ‘bout was fucking her, ‘bout being inside her, claiming her as mine.’’

  Q shakes his head, his mouth twisted in a grimace. “Your son has feelings for her, fucker.’’

  “You think I don’t know that!’’ I yell and push up to my feet, catching myself on the table when I’m ready to crumble to the floor. “Shit! I hate myself, believe me.’’

  Q sighs and stands up too, patting my bad shoulder. “I know that, J. I don’t want you to lose your son over your latest self-destructive move. That’s all.’’

  “The worst is that Hal has nothing to do with how much I want that girl. That’s more fucked up.’’ I shrug him off and tread carefully to the parking lot.

  Outside, the light breeze makes me more lightheaded. I growl and lean against the outside wall. The bricks’ coldness seeps through my shirt. I think I left my leather jacket inside, but I’m too intoxicated to make the trip back in there. It’s not like Q isn’t going to pick up after me. He’s used to it by now. And I have my wallet in my pocket, so I’m good.

  I take my phone and through bleary eyes dial for a cab. Ten minute wait, or so they say. I breathe deeply, trying to fight the rolling motion in my stomach. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to puke my guts up because I haven’t eaten since lunch today.

  From here, I can still make out the laughter coming from inside and the music playing over the speakers. More cars park in front of me, with more people, but none are the exact girl I’m looking for. Because I am looking for her, even when I know she’s not gonna come here. After all, she’s got a date with Wesley. She must have everything planned with him and she’s going to let him fuck her. And I don’t want any other man to touch her. I turn around and punch the wall. The skin on my knuckles breaks open. I’m bleeding and I don’t feel much other than a dull pain, muddled by the booze coursing through my blood.

  A car honks and I look up. It’s my cab and I have the perfect destination in mind. With heavy and unsteady feet I walk to the car. My chest is lighter now and most of all, I’m determined.

  ***

  AIDEEN

  I’m freaking out a little bit. No, in fact, I’m freaking out a lot, enough to grab the baseball bat my father gave me before I left so I can keep it under my bed. He’d be happy to see me making good use of it.

  I slowly, as to not make any noise, walk to the front door where loud bangs are coming from. It’s more like punches than actual knocks to me. I raise the bat over my shoulder, gripping it tightly. I’m breathing quietly, oddly enough even slowly. I’ve always been logical and efficient when in a time of crisis. That doesn’t mean my heart is beating calmly in my chest.

  “Aideen!’’

  I stop dead in my tracks, a foot in the air. I know that voice, even slurred and through the thick door. “Jensen?’’ I tentatively ask.

  “Open the fuckin’ door!’’

  I feel my shoulders slouch at once. I drop the bat alongside my body but keep it in one hand as I open the door and face a huge Jensen, drunk and apparently pissed. I scowl at him. “What are you doing here, damn it?’’

  He reeks of alcoh
ol, but I let him invade my personal space, his body still leaning against the door. I don’t know if he’d be able to stand on his own otherwise. “Are you going on a date with that guy?’’

  “You’re kidding me, right? You must be kidding me.’’

  His brown eyes, dull and glassed over, try to focus on me. His frown deepens. “Huh?’’

  “My social life is none of your business. Am I questioning yours?’’

  He snorts and blinks slowly. “Ask away! I broke it off with Cassie and there’s been no one since you.’’

  It’s harder to swallow. A lump appears in my throat and my eyes sting. I don’t know what to make of the emotions inside me. They’re all blending together. What I pick up on is the relief, the sliver of happiness and the new wave of lust. Even when drunk, angry, and reeking of alcohol I want this man. But he’s supposed to be a one-night stand. Nothing more. Just that.

  “You want me to fill the available spot?’’

  He shakes his head and grabs my shoulders, pulling me to him and hugging me. His big arms engulf me easily as he sways from side to side, probably unaware of it. I let his warmth seep into me before I push him away softly, almost reluctantly.

  “You’re far too drunk to talk about this now. I hope you didn’t ride here.’’

  “Q would’ve had my head.’’ He lets me lead him to the couch and he falls on it, his face plastered to the couch and small pillows. “I want to know about you and…’’ He doesn’t finish his sentence as he starts snoring.

  “What mess are we getting in here, Jensen?’’ I mumble as I go to my bedroom and grab the throw cover to put it over him. I watch him sleep for a minute or two. His lips are parted and contrast against his thick, dark beard. He’s frowning in his sleep and his eyelids keep on moving as if his dreams show him things he’d rather not see and it makes my heart squeeze painfully in my chest. Then, I shake my head and finally go back to my room, more lost than I thought possible.

  I close my bedroom door and sit on my bed. I open the first drawer of the bedside table and take out the picture. I bring it closer to the lamp and stare at it. It’s a younger me with a brooding blonde and green-eyed Yann. We’re hand in hand and I’m smiling at the camera while I keep Yann in my sight right in the corner of my eyes. I trace Yann’s face with my thumb and let the pain and guilt hit me for a little while, but I don’t let myself crumble under the weight of them. No tears leave my eyes.

  “I still miss you, Yann,’’ I say quietly, my voice broken. It’s the only sign I show of how I am truly feeling on the inside.

  JENSEN

  Getting up from the sofa, where I clearly passed out last night, I bring my hand up to my aching head. My mouth is parched, my eyes are barely functioning and I’m not sure if the smell of bacon coming from the kitchen is going to make me sick or not. I slowly, careful as to not face plant and make a bigger ass of myself, walk to the open floor kitchen. Aideen’s back is to me and her head is moving up and down probably in rhythm to the song she’s listening to coming from her iPod.

  I take my time just watching her. Dressed in a pair of black sweatpants hugging her ass just right and a light green tank top riding high over the flare of her hips, she’s gorgeous. It doesn’t help that her hair is up on top of her head, revealing her neck and the tantalizing skin there, just begging for my lips, my teeth. My tongue.

  My cock twitches in my jeans and I thank her for not taking off my pants last night. I don’t remember much of anything, but I think I made a scene. No need for another this morning when I’m pretty sure she’s not going to be in the mood for sex on the counter that I’d love to christen with her. Or any other surface. I’m not fucking picky if it means I can have her writhing under me.

  I clear my throat to catch her attention, but she keeps on doing her thing. She pours two mugs of coffee and bobs her head with extra emphasis and I chuckle. I would have never pegged her as the ‘dancing around the kitchen’ type. She often seems so serious.

  “Aideen?’’

  She jumps and takes off her earbuds in one swift move, then slowly turns around. She’s blushing, looking shy and younger all of a sudden.

  “Still alive?’’

  I rub at my aching temples and sit at the counter. She puts the hot mug in front of me. “Barely.’’ I point at the coffee and the bacon she puts on a plate for me. “After the scene I made I don’t deserve breakfast.’’

  “You were drunk. We all do stupid things when we’re drunk.’’

  “We’ve known each other for what? A little over a week? It’s the second time I’ve made a drunken scene around you. It’s inexcusable.’’

  She takes a sip of her coffee. She’s beautiful even without a speck of makeup. Not many women can say the same. “Do you remember what happened?’’

  I munch on a piece of bacon and force it down. I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea to eat now. I drink some coffee to wash it down. “Not really, but I can guess.’’

  She toys with the cord of her earbuds, her eyes going from my face to my hands which are pushing the bacon around the plate with my knife and fork.

  “It needs to stop, Jensen.’’

  “I know. I’m not going to show up drunk again, I promise. For what it’s worth, I really am sorry.’’

  She puts a hand on mine and stops me from pushing my food around again. Her palm is soft and warm over my hand and I have to fight the urge to link my fingers with hers. I can’t remember the last time I wanted to do shit like that with a woman.

  “I mean, we need to stop this… this thing. It’s a dangerous path we’re taking.’’

  “It’s not like a light switch. You can’t decide when it should be on or off.’’ I pull away from her hand and stand up. I feel better towering over her, even with the counter between us. “I’ve spent the past week thinking about you. With the way you were looking at me last night, I think it’s the same for you.’’

  “Jensen—‘’

  “Fuck, no. Don’t try and push me away like that. At least, give me a goddamn good reason.’’

  “You’re Hal’s dad. Doesn’t it bother you?’’

  If only she knew. If only she was aware how deep Hal’s feelings run she’d be more appalled at how I’m still pursuing her. Because that’s what I’m doing. I want her again, I want her until I have my fill of her and as it is, it’s not going to happen very soon.

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t want you or that it’s going to stop. Fuck Aideen, I’m rock hard right now and I’ve spent the past week jerking off to thoughts of you that’d make a whore blush. It’s too late to turn it off and forget.’’

  She gapes at me and backs away to the other side of the kitchen, trapping herself. “Don’t talk like that.’’

  “Like what? I’m telling you the truth.’’ I round the counter and walk to her. I stop just before my body touches hers. I’m gone again. I don’t care about my raging headache, about my rational thoughts. I’m led by my cock, by her body and the sizzling lust between us. Nothing else matters at the moment and it’s fucking good to let it go. I’m a pro at letting shit go.

  “Don’t make me do this.’’

  “Do what? Kiss me?’’ I lean down to be eye to eye with her. “Beg for me to fuck you again?’’

  She opens her mouth, maybe to say something, but I don’t give her the chance. I attack her mouth and she groans into my mouth. I grab her ass in both hands and hike her up to sit on the counter, the apex of her thighs flush against my hard cock.

  She moans again and parts her lips, her tongue thrusting in my mouth as she fists my shirt, tugging it upward in jerky movements. Her breasts flatten against my chest. She’s not wearing a bra and her nipples are taut. I can’t resist them. I bring a hand to her breast and we both cling to each other harder.

  The fact that it’s a really bad idea deserts me, and from the way she moves against me, the way she tosses my shirt away from us and starts kissing my chest, I bet it’s not on her mind either.
<
br />   I take a step back and pull her top over her head. I put a hand over her throat and push her back, forcing her to lean back giving me access to her perfect round breasts and the dark pink nipples standing proud. Under my palm I feel her throat working as she swallows and I lock eyes with her again. She likes this dominant position. Her eyes are wide and glassy, her mouth is open and dragging air in and out. Her cheeks are redder, almost as if I’ve already fucked her. Her hands tense on my hips just above my jeans.

  I bring my mouth to her nipple and draw it in, sucking, licking. And I’m rewarded with a keening moan that makes my balls tighten. I growl and press harder on her throat as I bite on her nipple. She arches up, pushing against my hand. I lick her taut peak and move to her other one. Her skin tastes sweet and fruity. I’d lick her whole if she’d let me, and if I wasn’t already ready to burst. I don’t want to come if I’m not inside her tight pussy.

  I blow on both wet nipples and I watch closely as her skin pebbles. A shiver shakes her. “You’re fucking hot. You know that?’’

  I tug down her sweatpants and want to yell ‘fuck yeah’ when I see she’s wearing no panties. The pants fall at our feet and she’s naked, displayed for my greedy eyes. She’s wet, arching up to me and her eyes are saying what she’s not letting herself voice. She wants me to fuck her hard. She wants me bad, just as bad as I want her.

  “You make me believe it,’’ she pants and I feel the vibrations of her words under my palm. Blindly, she searches for the button of my jeans. She locates it and immediately opens my jeans and brings the zipper down. She pushes them down with my briefs and takes my hard cock in her hands. She squeezes my base and moves up. At my tip, she brushes me with a finger. I’m ready to come with one touch from her. It’s almost embarrassing.

  I moan and my eyes roll back in my head. I move my hips, urging her on. I massage her breast and still keep her restrained with my hand on her throat. I let her explore my cock, but when she sneaks her other hand to my balls and plays with them, touching me just right to the point of almost making my knees buckle under me, I push her hands away, snatch my wallet from my pants which have rested mid-thigh and grab the last condom I have on me. With my teeth, I open it and roll it on my dick.