Something There In Between

by S. Ferguson

  “DEC! Get your bitch ass over here!” Jake roars. I love my brother, I really do. I repeat this to myself as I make my way towards him and the group with him. Jake is clearly drunk and the guys he came in with, including Greg, don’t seem to be any better off.

  “Dec, you’ve been here for a while now and we have to properly welcome you to the family,” Jake says, his eyes full of glee, and I’m slightly terrified. Jake is a balls to the wall kind of guy, not much middle ground. His idea of celebrating could be anything from burning down a building, to getting so drunk we can’t move for a few days, or possibly some combination of the two. Of course, he’s already pretty close to that last one already.

  “Okayyy…” I draw the word out, trying to not act as nervous as I feel. Jake is like an animal; he smells fear.

  “Dec meet, um…” He looks to his right, and I see a small woman tucked under his arm. She’s wearing a jean skirt that is so short, it can best be described as vagina length. Her tits are huge, obviously fake, and about to fall out of the tank top she’s wearing, which is sporting the Keegan’s logo. She has got to be freezing her ass off. She’s wearing a shit ton of makeup, but I can tell she’s cute, if you’re into that sort of thing. When she realizes Jake is waiting for her to supply her name, I see annoyance flash in her eyes before she looks at me, then they light up. I see something lurking in them, though. Calculation? Whatever it is, my spidey senses begin to tingle.

  “Candice, my name is Candice,” she purrs, extending her hand to me.

  I can already tell where this is heading, and I don't like it. However, I technically do owe my brother for this job, and keeping this job means being in good with him and the guys who are obviously a part of this… celebration. Rejecting his and by association, Ron’s welcome aboard gift, would be beyond insulting.

  I frantically search my brain, but I can’t find a legitimate excuse to get out of this. So, I bite the bullet and give her a handshake. As soon as her small hand is in my larger one, Jake pushes her toward me, all but slamming her body up against mine.

  “You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” she purrs, wrapping her free hand around my waist, and rubbing her tits against my side.

  Despite my lack of interest, I am in fact a red-blooded straight male, and boobs are kind of cool, so I feel myself hardening in my jeans. Candice must feel it, too, because she lets out a giggle. I think it’s supposed to be cute, but it comes across as obnoxious. She lowers her hand and cups my half hard dick through the denim. I shoot Jake a panicked glance.

  “Here, fucker.” Jake shoves a bottle of whiskey into my free hand and mouths, You’re welcome.

  Realizing there really isn’t anything I can do to get out of this, and remembering the fact that it’s been more than a hot minute since I got any, I decide to roll with it. Taking a swig of my bottle, I let go of Candice’s hand, squeezing my arm out from between us, and reach around her to cup her ass. I have to damn near bend in half, which puts my neck in range of her mouth. She starts licking me. Usually my neck is one of my more erogenous zones, but who just starts licking someone with no preamble? I take another swig, and this becomes my default when Candice does something I don’t like or understand for the next couple of hours. Drink after drink slips down my throat until I don’t even notice the burn anymore.

  Before I know it, I’ve been partying with Jake and the guys for a couple of hours and I’m wasted, wasted being an understatement. I know I finished the bottle Jake put in my hand, but I don’t remember it being replaced. I know Ron stopped by our group, slapping me on the back and giving me a welcome speech, before instructing Candice to be sure “you make the boy happy.”

  I vaguely remember some shots and other drinks, but I’m definitely holding a half empty bottle of vodka right now, and I have no idea if I’m the reason its half gone or not. I’m standing, leaning against the wall, facing a table full of Greg, Quinn and a few other guys, whose names I can’t remember.

  Jake is entertaining everyone with his spectacular dance moves to the right. Dancing has always been the sign that it’s time to take Jake home. When the dance moves come out, it’s time to roll out. We had coined that phrase after a disastrous weekend trip to Vegas.

  Candice is literally glued to my side. If she got any closer, I think she would have to actually crawl inside my ass. Bree is noticeably absent. I know she’s still here working, but I haven’t seen her since Jake dragged me over here. If I’m being honest, I’ve avoided looking for her. Part of me is very ashamed that she's seeing this or that I’m even doing this. Either one. Deciding it’s time to break the seal, I gently push Candice off my body and walk to the bathroom.

  I finish my business, and start washing my hands, when I hear the bathroom door open.

  “I think I’m done for the night, man,” I say, as I turn expecting to see Jake or one of the guys but instead, see Candice shutting the door behind her. I hear the telltale click of the lock, and she starts walking towards me. She’s shaking her hips in such an exaggerated way, I think I’m supposed to find it sexy, but she’s shaking her hips so hard I’m tempted to ask her if she’s having some sort of seizure. My ADD brain is snapped back into focus when I feel hands on the waistband of my jeans.

  “But, baby, we’re not done yet,” she murmurs before sinking to her knees in front of me. She looks up to my face and licks her lips. She has lipstick on her teeth, and I debate if now is the right moment to tell her that or not. Before I can open my mouth, she nuzzles the crotch of my jeans.

  Clearly, I’m not as drunk as I thought because my dick immediately springs to life. It’s almost painful, as all the blood in my body runs to one place. She licks her lips again, and pulls the zipper down on my fly after undoing the button. I’m usually a commando guy, and probably should have warned her or something. Next thing I know, my cock springs free and, with a loud smacking sound, hits her in the eye.

  “Jesus,” she whines letting go of my jeans, and sitting back on her heels while covering her eye. “What the fuck was that? That was too hard to have just been your dick,” she says, rubbing her eye and looking at me.

  My jeans are sagging down my thighs, my cock and balls swinging free. Well, pointing free? I don’t know what the right term is. I do know the minute she sees my piercing because her eyes grow wide, and an almost evil smile crosses her face.

  “Oh, baby, I’m gonna have fun with that,” she purrs, reaching for my dick and stroking me from base to tip. She lets her thumb slide over my Prince Albert piercing that just smacked her in the face, and I can’t help the moan that comes from my mouth.

  “Such a big boy,” she croons, leaning forward and licking the tip. My head rolls back, and smacks the wall. I don’t remember moving to lean against the wall, but I am very grateful for the extra support. I close my eyes as my dick is engulfed in warm, wet heat. It’s almost disturbing how good Candice is at this. Then suddenly, Bree’s face pops into my head. I open my eyes and look around the room. Candice and I are still alone, and she’s going down on me like her life depends on it. I’m not a small guy, and she’s all but swallowing my whole cock down her throat. It’s been so long and it feels so good. I close my eyes again. Blue eyes are staring back, that radiant smile, and suddenly, I realize I’m about to come. I open my eyes again, and gently push on Candice’s shoulders until she releases my dick with a popping sound.

  “Grab onto the sink and bend over,” I order, reaching into my back pocket to grab my wallet. Once it’s out, I yank a condom from my billfold and tear the foil packet open with my teeth. Candice obeys me, grabbing the sink and bending damn near in half. Her barely there skirt lifts up, showing me a smooth ass and shaved pussy. Damn, she wasn’t even wearing underwear under that tiny thing?

  After sheathing myself, I walk up behind her and take myself in hand. Once we’re lined up, I thrust in, hard and deep. Candice’s feet rise off the floor with the force of my thrust, her grip on the sink so tight her knuckles are white. She squeals and then moans
as I slowly pull out. I set up a rhythm, slamming into her quickly, then pulling out slowly. After a few minutes, Candice is squealing so loud it's hurting my ears, so I bend over her and wrap one hand around her mouth. The other grabs onto her shoulder and I start pumping into her so hard it feels like we might go through the wall. The sink is creaking with the weight of us slamming into it so hard. I wonder how mad Ron would be if I destroy his bathroom? I can’t find it in me to care right now. Even with my hand covering her mouth, she’s loud as fuck. I feel the familiar tightening in my balls, and my thrusting becomes faster and faster.

  Candice suddenly lets out a deep moan, and I feel her pussy clamp down on me. That’s all it takes, and my eyes roll back in my head as I fill the condom.

  I choose to not acknowledge the fact that, yet again, Bree’s face was all I saw when I closed my eyes. I thrust weakly for another minute or two trying to prolong our pleasure, but making sure my eyes stay open before grabbing the end of the condom. I carefully pull out, turn around to remove it, and then toss it away. Candice slowly stands up and pushes her skirt back down. Honestly, I don’t know why she even bothers. Now that my orgasm is over, I realize I’m fucking exhausted. I slowly fix my pants, and wash my hands in the sink again.

  “Baby, that was so good,” Candice says, coming up behind me and wrapping her arms around me. I stiffen, but then ask myself why. Why am I so against this? I just fucked her in a bathroom. Clearly, this girl isn’t after a relationship, something I’m not interested in, but if she wants to go another round, why the fuck not? Bree’s face flashes through my mind again, and I shake both the image, and the guilt it brings, away.

  “You’re coming home with me.” It's not a question, more of a command, and Candice nods her agreement as I take her hand and open the bathroom door. As soon as the door opens, there is a thunderous applause from the guys still hanging around. If I were a better person, I would have felt embarrassed, but I have no shame so I give a little bow and smack Candice on her ass for good measure.

  “Jake, I’m out,” I say, heading toward the door. Candice is stumbling behind me in her heels. I probably should slow down since my legs are much longer than hers, but I can’t find it in me to care.

  “Wrap that shit up. Twice!” Jake calls behind me, such a fucking gentleman.

  I shake my head and open the door to the street when, for some reason, the urge hits me to look back. I stop halfway through the door, my head lowered and slightly turned toward the bar. Don’t do it, Dec, I say to myself as I start to turn my head and then stop. I don’t know why my mind wants me to look back at Bree, but it’s a horrible idea. I refuse to think about why she’s on my mind at this exact moment, and decide to drown myself in Candice’s pussy and more booze. With that decision made, I turn my head without looking back, and march out of the door like a man on a mission.

  10

  Bree

  Things settle down quickly after Declan left with the girl, and Jake stopped his ridiculous dance moves. It's becoming more of an effort to not laugh around Declan and Jake. Declan definitely brings out the fun side of Jake and, well, pretty much everything.

  After closing up the bar, I start my lonely walk home. All the distractions from the night are gone, and I’m alone with my thoughts once again. My chest physically hurts, as all the grief slams back into me.

  For some reason the image of Declan walking out with the blonde woman plays over and over again in my head. It’s quickly followed by the image of Alex walking away with his mystery girl. Yes, thank you, head, I get it. Everyone is walking away from me with a better option.

  Pulling my earbuds out of my purse, I queue up my ‘emotional’ playlist and trudge along. The air is getting colder and colder, and more leaves are on the ground. I wrap my arms around myself, letting the melody flow over me. Soon, it will be too cold to sit in the park at night. I shudder, this time not from the cold, but at the thought of having no way to escape the suffocating apartment. Winter is so hard on me for this reason. It also reminds me of when Alex left. A few days from now, it will be the anniversary of the day he didn’t show up. The day he was supposed to come home, but didn’t.

  I shiver on my bench, wishing I could just let go of this pain. How can I want to get rid of something so badly, but still cling to it so strongly? I have to find the balance between not being consumed by my past, but at the same time I can’t let myself forget it. I have to remember, so it doesn’t happen again. Never again will I be fooled into thinking I’m loved. Never again will I share myself with anyone. I know I’m not good enough for either of those things. My existence is lonely, but the pain is tolerable. I repeat that lie over and over again in my head until I can almost believe it.

  Once I give up on sitting on the bench, and make it inside to the warmth of the apartment, I crawl into bed and my mind wanders back to Declan. I wonder if he’s still with that girl. He was really drunk. Did he manage to stay awake long enough to fuck her again? Or did he just pass out? More importantly, why is that last thought making me feel something eerily close to hope in my chest? I jump out of bed and take a double dose of sleeping medication, chasing it with a shot of liquor. I need to not think anymore tonight.

  The next morning, I make a point to wake up at ten in the morning, which is early in bartender time, and call the number on the card Ron gave me when I went into Keegan’s on my own.

  “Hello,” a lightly accented male voice answers after the second ring.

  “Um, yeah, hi… this is Bree, Ron gave me your card?” I stutter, my confidence leaving me. I still have no idea why I’m calling this Ze guy or whoever he is.

  “Bree, I’m so glad you called.” He greets me like he’s been expecting me to call. “Tell me what time you want to get together, I have an opening today at 1:00 pm if you can make it?” His tone is almost fatherly, and something about him makes me feel comfortable. I immediately feel myself relax.

  I glance at the clock reflexively. “Yes, I can do one. What should I wear?”

  “Something you can work out and move freely in. See you at one.” He hangs up without another word, and I stare at my phone in shock for a minute.

  I take a quick shower, and decide to head out early. This way, my nerves won’t get the best of me. My body may be healing but my mind is fucked. Anything I can do to stay calm helps. The city buses are more crowded and more unreliable the colder the weather gets and something tells me Ze will not be happy if I’m late. I lace up my neglected running shoes and braid my hair quickly. I exit my building, and pull on one of Alex’s old skateboarding sweatshirts, pulling the hood over my head as the cold breeze does its best to blow me over when I reach the sidewalk.

  During the entire bus ride, and walk to the address on the card, I become increasingly nervous. This isn’t a great part of the city; the buildings go from looking old, to poorly maintained, to flat out abandoned. Trash litters the streets and graffiti decorates the walls lining the street. I have no doubt that, when the weather is warmer, there are homeless people on every corner here. I make a mental note to see about bringing some old blankets and sweatshirts out here. Winter is brutal when you have nowhere to go. I should know. I shake my head, and send up a silent thank you that this is no longer my reality.

  At 12:55 pm sharp, I am standing outside what looks like an abandoned warehouse. The parking lot has been repaved, and is half full with newer looking cars, which is reassuring. Obviously, there has to be some sort of business inside of it. The building however, looks like it should be condemned. One more gust of this freezing wind and the building will probably fall over. I walk up to the door, and raise my hand to open it, but the door is pulled open from the inside before my hand reaches it. An older man is standing in the doorway. He isn’t much taller than me, but has broad shoulders and is obviously in excellent shape. His jet-black hair has grey liberally sprinkled through it, and he’s wearing a black t-shirt over a pair of black athletic pants. His dark brown eyes look over my face, assessing me,
and I immediately know we’re going to get along.

  “Bree?” he asks. “I’m Ze.”

  “That’s me,” I say lamely, and he opens the door all the way, beckoning me inside.

  The inside of the building is the complete opposite of the outside. Bright lighting fills the huge space inside. The floors are some sort of light wood… bamboo, maybe? Definitely high quality. The right side of the room is full of regular gym equipment: treadmills, some free weights, and there is a bar running across the whole ceiling towards the back of the building, that has black and yellow straps hanging down from it. It almost looks like some sort of torture device. Ze follows my gaze.

  “That’s TRX. You’ll get to that, but first we need to see where you’re at physically,” he says, looking me over. “No extra weight on you, but your muscle tone is shit. Do you exercise at all?” he asks, walking a full circle around me, and coming back to face me. I feel my cheeks heat under his critical gaze.

  “No, I mean nothing besides walking a lot and whatever lifting is required at my job.” All too familiar body issues seep into my brain. How many times in my life will I have to endure someone criticizing my body? I mean, honestly.

  “What’s that look mean?” he asks, leaning forward and squinting in my face.

  “No…nothing,” I stammer. Why can’t this asshole just ignore my face like everyone else does? First Declan and now Ze. I must be losing my powers of invisibility.

  “Look, I have one rule in this gym and that’s total honesty. What is that look?” He holds my gaze, and I can’t look away even though I want to. His eyes are unflinching; I know I have no choice but to answer him.

  “I just− I guess I had been feeling better about my body lately, and you just kind of blew that out of the water.” I feel my cheeks heating in a blush and, to my horror, tears building up in my eyes. I blink rapidly trying to push them back.