Kinetic Energy

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Kinetic Energy Page 2

by Hayley Faiman


  Some song comes on that has the entire crowd lifting their arms in excitement. She runs off, and I lose sight of her. I stay perched in my seat, my eyes scanning the crowd, looking for the luscious body encased in the bright blue dress to appear again. I don’t move for the next few hours, hoping to catch a glimpse of her from the front. The back and side of her wasn’t enough, I’m fucking greedy.

  “Hey there, handsome,” a deep sultry voice says from in front of me.

  I turn my head slightly and take in the woman sitting across from me. She has to be in her mid-twenties, her hair is light blonde, bleached, and her tits overly large and fake. I prefer a natural woman, but I’ve been so distracted tonight by the sable-haired beauty, that I haven’t even looked for another woman to fulfill my desires.

  “Thomas,” I grunt.

  She smiles, her eyelids dropping in an effort to seem submissive. I can tell by her demeanor that she is anything but. However, my cock is already hard, and she’s in front of me, the mysterious dark-haired woman isn’t. I’m a dick, I know, but I somehow think that she understands the score.

  “Wanna get outta here?” I ask.

  “My apartment is a block away.”

  I stand, holding out my hand for her. She joins me and together we leave the loud club. I don’t know her name, and she only knows my first. I’ve never seen her before, and I’ll probably never see her again. All I know is that she’s over twenty-one and lives a block away from Huskies club.

  When we arrive at her apartment, I’m surprised by how clean it is, how extremely tidy and put together. She doesn’t speak, and neither do I. Following behind her, we make the short distance to her bedroom in just a few strides.

  Closing the door behind me, I turn around. Her black dress has been peeled off, and she’s standing in front of me, barefoot and completely naked. Not submissive in the slightest. Normally, it would be a turnoff. Today, I’m so on edge that it doesn’t matter. I pull a condom out of my pocket and wordlessly take my own clothes off.

  The next hour, I aim to forget.

  The next hour we’re just two bodies giving each other pleasure.

  I’ll feel guilty tomorrow. I’ll feel regret tomorrow.

  I feel anything but that right now.

  INES

  Pressing my lips together, I stare at the syllabus. I don’t know how I’m going to pass this class. I glance up at the professor and I blush. His eyes roam over the classroom and for some reason, I wish they would stop on me. They don’t, it’s as though he’s looking, but he’s not seeing any of us.

  I can’t see him well enough to guess at his age. I wish I would have chosen a seat a bit closer to the front. Something about him, about his flash of blue eyes, causes me to hitch my breath.

  No matter how intimidating this class seems, I don’t think I could even attempt to drop it. I have a feeling that it’s going to be way too much fun to watch Professor Jacobson three times a week—every week. I don’t hear a word he says the rest of the class, content to just watch the way his luscious mouth moves.

  Once my classes are finished for the day I meet up with my new girlfriends. Alison, Rachel, and Tawny. We’re all going out to this eighteen and over club that we found, called Huskies. But first, we’re going to get drunk in the parking lot. I’ve never been a big partier, but these girls are always ready for some fun, and I’m finally free, so I decide that it can’t hurt anything.

  I’m so drunk. I reach for Alison’s hand and she wraps her fingers around mine with a giggle. We’re all pretty wasted. I met these three chicks at freshman orientation and we’ve been partying ever since. They must have a crazy tolerance for booze. They drank almost an entire bottle of vodka between the three of them in the parking lot before we came into the club. I only took a couple of shots and I’m extra tipsy as it is, I couldn’t imagine drinking more.

  “Oh my God, do you see those guys over there?” Alison slurs.

  I glance in the direction of where her head is facing. There are a group of guys standing around, they’re staring at us and it makes me uncomfortable. Their gazes are a little too comfortable as though they’re used to staring at girls and undressing them with their eyes.

  “I’m fucking that blond one tonight,” Alison announces.

  My eyes widen and I smile, shaking my head. Surely, she must be joking? I’ve been around a lot of girls, my sisters always had their girlfriends over as I was growing up, but I’ve never heard them talk like that before.

  “Which one do you want?” she asks me.

  My eyes flit from each guy and I bite my bottom lip as my eyes glance down to the ground. “I don’t think I’m going to do all of that,” I state. I can’t whisper because the music is loud but I don’t want to scream it either.

  “Don’t be a prude. They’re football players, babe. They train for endurance, if you know what I mean,” she giggles wagging her eyebrows. She tugs me behind her and the other two girls huddle in close behind me and together the four of us walk over to the four guys.

  I don’t tell her that I have a serious aversion to football players. My poor roommate, Jessa, is dating one. He’s the king douche of all douches, and I haven’t even officially been introduced to him yet.

  Not to mention, the guy I lost my virginity to was the star of the football team in high school. He worked hard to get me on my back, and then when he had me, he jackhammered into me, broke my hymen, and then pretended like I didn’t exist. He was a complete dick. I basically don’t have a lot of faith in guys that play football.

  My mind flits back to Professor Hottie Jacobson from earlier. Now, he’s someone I might consider flirting with for the night. His dark hair, and blue eyes, plus his full lips—it would be hard not to be attracted to him. I’m sure I shouldn’t be, he’s older and a professor, but that’s the kind of man I want. Not some guy who thinks he’s hot shit because he runs with a football.

  “This is Russ, he’s hot, right?” Alison slurs as she shoves me toward some guy. Rachel glances at me and grins a little too widely.

  All thoughts of my physics professor go out the window as Russ, wraps a hand around my waist to steady me, and his eyes search mine. He’s cute if I were into big, clean cut, guys. I prefer a little more scruff, and a little less bulk in a man. “Fuck, baby, you carry all that weight you got on your ass well,” he grunts. That’s when I know that he is definitely not the guy for me.

  What a fucking asshole.

  I try to take a step back from him, but his hand tightens on my waist. “C’mon, have a drink, hang with us a while.”

  Looking between my friends and the guys they’re hanging all over, I let out a groan. I really don’t want to hang out with these people, not in the slightest. I also don’t want to walk back to campus alone in the dark. We all made a pact that we would go home together, although looking at them now, I’m not sure that the plan hasn’t changed.

  I sigh in defeat. I don’t drink the water that Russ becomes almost insistent that I down. I pretend, dumping it out onto the floor when he turns his head. I’m thankful when his hand stays on my waist and travels no lower. Everything out of his mouth as the night progresses proves to me that he’s a giant fucking dickhead.

  The DJ announces the last song of the evening and all the girls scream and drag the guys out on the dance floor. Russ looks down at me and I shake my head. “Bathroom,” I announce.

  He watches me and a look crosses his face that I don’t quite understand. Turning from him, I walk as quickly as I can to the restroom. I stay in there as long as I can until I hear the song end, and the DJ announces that the club is now closed.

  Peeking my head out of the bathroom all I see is a sea of people. I try to find my friends, but they’re nowhere to be seen. Ditched. Those bitches. I sigh and file in with the rest of the crowd as everybody heads outside.

  I’m thankful when a big group of people head toward campus. I stick with them toward the back and follow them until I’m safely on campus. A few split
off, but a few actually go all the way to my dorm building and I mentally cheer when I’m safely inside of the building.

  Hurrying toward my door, I slip inside and look up to see Jessa asleep in her bed. Quietly, I undress, throwing on a pair of sleep shorts and t-shirt before I climb my ladder and slip between my sheets. I pull out my phone to see if any of the girls left me messages, but I don’t have any new notifications, messages, or missed calls.

  I let out a sigh and close my eyes. I have classes tomorrow. I can’t stay out all night like this again, and with people who don’t really care if I make it home safe or not. This isn’t the crowd I should be surrounding myself with.

  My brother, Kosmo, would be greatly disappointed in my decisions tonight. The guilt that niggles in the back of my mind is enough to make me decide that I’m done with the three blonde girls. I need to surround myself with the right crowd.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THOMAS

  Pulling into the garage after a long first week of classes, I groan. Danielle is home. I should be happy to see her. After all, she’s my wife. However, the short trips she makes home are becoming more often a burden rather than joyous. She usually works the entire time she’s home, then complains about Nebraska. If it isn’t the weather, then it’s the lack of culture, and God forbid I attempt to take her out to eat or to a movie.

  Closing my eyes for just a moment, an image flashes before me. Dark hair, killer body, and pouty lips. I can’t get the girl from Huskies out of my mind. I’m disappointed that Danielle is home. I wanted to go back this weekend and see if she was there again. It makes me a fucking asshole, I know, but there was something about her. Something that called me to her.

  I grab my briefcase out of the passenger seat before heading inside. At least with her being here, I won’t be tempted to go out, and I’ll get all of the first week’s assignments graded. Making my way inside, I’m surprised by how quiet the house is. There is only a single light on in the kitchen, but Danielle isn’t in there.

  Walking upstairs toward our bedroom, I open the door and am shocked as shit to see her in our room. Danielle is dressed in a soft blue negligée, her dark blonde hair down her shoulder. “Danny?”

  “Hey Tommy,” she whispers. Her phone is in her hand and I’m startled when she sets it down. It seems as though the phone is a permanent part of her hand these days.

  She stands from the edge of the bed and stalks toward me, almost feline-like. I can’t remember the last time she initiated anything between us. Usually, when I attempt to touch her, she sighs and eventually resigns, but is never enthusiastic about it. She typically treats sex as a chore. Something she has to endure while she’s home.

  “I just,” she shrugs. “I haven’t been around much,” she admits. I want to snort. No shit. I’ve seen her twice in three months. Once for two days and now tonight.

  I reach up and gently caress her cheek with my fingertips. “How long will you be home this time?”

  Her eyes shift to the side and then come back to me. Looking down into her pretty blue eyes, I see guilt swimming in them. These eyes, they used to shine so fucking bright when they looked at me. Now, she only looks at me with annoyance, guilt, or resignation. Not many other emotions shine through them like they did in the past.

  “I’m leaving in the morning,” she admits with a shrug.

  My fingers fall from her face. Moving my hand, I place it on my hips, balling it into a fist before I do. “For how long?” I growl.

  She shrugs one shoulder, taking a step back. “I’m going to the London office.”

  “Fuck,” I bite out. “How the fuck long is it going to continue on like this, Danielle?” I demand.

  She lifts her chin in the air, and folds her arms beneath her breasts, pushing them up. “I’m making more money than you are, Tommy. If you want to quit and be with me, then you can. Nothing is stopping you.”

  I stare at her like she’s got two fucking heads. It’s almost unbelievable that she’s even uttered the words to me. I personally wouldn’t know how much she makes because we don’t share a bank account. The only time I do know is at the end of the year when I see our taxes. My salary pays for this house, my car, and my own bills. Her fucking mail isn’t even delivered here.

  “So what? I’ll be your little bitch, lapdog. Your fucktoy?” I snort.

  She lets out a cackle. “Oh please. Do you really think that you’re that good? I mean, let’s be honest here, you’re in your mid-forties. You’re way out of your prime.”

  I bite my tongue, refusing to tell her that the twenty-something year old I fucked five nights ago was left completely satisfied when I walked out of her apartment. Then I narrow my eyes “Who have you been fucking?” I ask, ignoring my own dalliances.

  “My vibrator, Tommy. Which, incidentally is really all that I need. Should I ask about your personal sex life?”

  My eyes widen at her question. I should tell her. Right here, and right now. I should get this bullshit sham of a marriage done and over with. Part of me wonders if she would even care. We don’t talk anymore, we’re virtually strangers, so why would she care where I stick my dick? “You want to know the answer to that?” I question.

  Her blue eyes meet mine and she lets out a sigh. “I don’t want to fight. Let’s enjoy our one evening together. Tomorrow, I’ll be gone.”

  She closes the distance between us and places her hands on my chest, sliding them up to my neck. I allow her, enjoying the way her cool hands feel on my skin. Last time she was in town, she didn’t want to have sex. It’s been months since I’ve been inside of my own wife. I should be craving this, needing this connection with her. However, it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel good.

  “Danny,” I mutter.

  Her lips touch mine, her tongue peeking to taste me. “Just, let’s not,” she hums against my mouth. “Not tonight.”

  I drop it for the night. I allow our bodies to enjoy one another. My heart isn’t into it though, and I doubt hers is either. We aren’t emotionally connected at all. Being with her tonight feels like I’m having a one-night stand all over again. This isn’t working, and I wonder for the millionth time why I’m in this marriage to begin with.

  INES

  I watch as my roommate, Jessa, does her homework—on a Friday night. I don’t know much about her yet, just her name and that she’s from a small town in Nebraska. I haven’t really asked much more about her. I sense she’s the kind of girl that likes to keep everything internalized.

  I don’t push her, but I’m curious to know more about who she is, and I think that we have more in common than maybe she realizes. I feel really bad for the girl, she’s obviously hung up on her boyfriend, but I’m not sure why. He’s a giant asshole. I snort to myself, I bet he’s friends with that Russ guy, probably BFF’s.

  My phone vibrates, taking me away from my thoughts. It’s an invitation to a party at a frat house from Alison. I groan. She apologized, and I spent the week lunching with all three of the girls, every day. However, I’m not sure I’m ready to party and be ditched by them again. They all swore to me that they looked for me, and were worried, but I don’t believe them.

  “Hey, want to go out tonight?” I ask Jessa. I’m pretty certain she won’t get wasted, and she won’t ditch me.

  She looks up from what looks like math homework and gives me a sad smile. “I can’t. I have to have all of this finished tonight,” she grumbles. I want to tell her that the dickhead doesn’t deserve her, but I keep my loudmouth opinion to myself.

  Sifting through my closet, I grab a skin-tight tank dress and slip it up my body. It’s probably a couple of sizes too small, but I’ve always been that way when it comes to clothes. My sisters were that way when they were younger too. Then, Lola got mixed up with her abusive ex-husband and changed everything about her looks. She’s been free of him for six months, but her clothing style has stayed subdued.

  My mama has always been this way too, tight and too short, while you’re youn
g enough to still pull it off—that’s her motto. She doesn’t dress super sexy anymore, but she’s still got it.

  Once I’m ready to go, I grab my phone and my purse, making my way to the door. I ask Jessa one more time if she wants to go out, but she shakes her head, no. I don’t push her. Hopefully, she’ll ditch that loser one day.

  Alison and the rest of the girls are waiting for me outside of my building. I greet them all with hugs, and we start to walk toward our destination. My phone rings in my hand and I cringe at the person on the other end. If I don’t answer, he’ll just keep calling me.

  “Hey Kos,” I cheerfully state.

  “How are your studies?” he bluntly asks.

  I smile, thinking of my hard-nosed, busy brother. I miss him so much already, I don’t know how I’ll survive until I see him at Christmas break. “It was the first week. Not much happened,” I admit.

  “What are you doing now? I hear voices.”

  I groan. “I’m going out with girlfriends,” I announce.

  He grunts but doesn’t say anything for a few beats. “You be careful, Ines. Don’t do any stupid shit.”

  Without allowing me to respond, he ends the call. I slip my phone back in my purse and think about his words. Don’t do any stupid shit. I have a feeling Kosmo has never done anything wild, crazy, or stupid a day in his life. I feel like I’m the only one of my four siblings to do anything adventurous. I think he’s decided just me being here is stupid enough, I guess I shouldn’t be having any fun either?

  Fuck that.

  We arrive at the frat house a few minutes later, and I ignore the crowd of people and head straight for the makeshift bar. I grab a bottle of cheap vodka and I hold it to my mouth, drinking as much as I can without throwing up. Then I take a breath, and I repeat the motion two more times.

 

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