My Not So One Night Stand

by Rebecca Robertson

  “Can I ask you something?” I pleaded, distracting myself with his History textbook.

  “Sure.”

  "Do you always give Sophie an orgasm?" I questioned, reading over some notes.

  Sophie wasn’t Luke's girlfriend but it was common knowledge that the two occasionally met up for sex.

  He suddenly caught my eye and I quickly looked away, desperate to avoid his scrutinising gaze. I don't know why I suddenly felt embarrassed talking to him about this. Perhaps it was because he had more experience than me and compared to him, I felt like an inexperienced little child.

  "Yeah. Not always through sex, though. Sometimes I do it with my fingers or my mouth," he replied, making my head jolt up in intrigue.

  “I’ve never had anyone put their mouth there,” I told him, reaching up to capture his jaw. “Does it not hurt here?

  “Yeah, my jaw can ache afterwards,” he confesses, seating me into a comfortable position on his lap.

  “I wonder if it feels good?”

  “I think it does. Sophie likes it.”

  “Maybe I’ll ask Jake to do it for me.”

  “Don’t.”

  Luke’s harsh tone shocked me into silence; the tension in his left cheek saying it all.

  “Why not?”

  “Dunno, just don’t,” he reasoned, practically begging me with his eyes.

  “Okay,” I agreed, unknowing as to why I did.

  We stared at each other for a while longer, our unspoken agreement seemingly causing unwanted tension. Why didn’t he want Jake to touch me there and why did I get the feeling he was unhappy I slept with him in the first place?

  Whilst shaking away my guilty thoughts, I attempted to focus my attention on Luke’s beautiful face, though struggled to completely let go. I should’ve known back then that he had feelings for me, yet I was so focused on dickhead-Jake that I couldn’t see past it all.

  “What Jake did; it’s not okay but I’m learning to get over it,” I insisted, breaking through the silence. “People always say you have to go through the dickheads to find Mr Right.”

  “And am I Mr Right?” he smirked, selectively hearing kicking in.

  “I’d say you’re Mr got-a-pretty-good-chance, yes,” I replied, nudging his shoulder. “You know you mean more to me than Jake and Dan ever did. Don’t ever doubt that,” I stated, turning suddenly serious, for feeling the need to do so.

  He let slip a relieved sigh and without so much as giving me a minute to gather my thoughts, sought out my lips in a passionate embrace to join them with his own. Because of this, his sudden movement created a somewhat minor tidal wave in the tub, causing the water surrounding us to stir and ripple; its calming sounds acting as a brilliant juxtaposition against our chaotic kiss. Next, completely throwing me off guard, his hands firmly grasped at my hips and I found my front was deliciously dragged against his impressive length. This prompted a low moan to resonate from the back of his throat, successfully taking my ever increasing arousal to the next level.

  "Did you just stage two me?" I giggled, managing to pull myself away from his swollen lips long enough to utter out my enquiry.

  "Perhaps? Did it work? Or do I have to whisper lowly in your ear how shaggable you are?" he grinned, pushing his hips up in a way that I could only assume was to further entice me.

  "No need, Anderson. Actions speak louder than words. How about you just show me?" I suggested, lightly tracing my name happily stationed over his beating heart.

  "As you wish," he breathed, leaning forward and engaging in yet another brutal attack on my body.

  It wasn’t long before I was lost in the moment, slipping into a state of peacefulness where the only thing that mattered was Luke and his mind-blowing assault on my neck and boobs. His mouth was so greedy in its pursuit to feed on me that I became momentarily distracted and mildly traumatised when sudden wetness was bestowed onto my face

  "Luke! What the hell?" I screeched, proceeding to wipe away the bubbles he just shoved in my face.

  "Sorry baby, I skipped straight to stage five and got white stuff all over your face." he smugly replied, earning himself a cold glare, which I only hoped succeeded in knocking him down a peg or two.

  "Fine then," I childishly declared and whilst scooping up enough bubbles in my hands to supply Hoes & Bros their annual foam party, I gently shoved the substance in his face, getting to work on crafting him a Santa-Claus-like beard. I giggled to myself the entire time.

  He patiently allowed me the pleasure of sculpting my masterpiece, never once breaking eye contact as I went about shaping him the perfect replica of a grey, old man. I couldn’t help but enjoy the feel his smooth jawline against my fingertips, though I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t imagine it being my tongue gliding along it instead.

  "Do you remember when we were kids and our Mum's used to put us in the bath together?" he asked, removing a stray lock of hair from my line of sight.

  With a quick nod to my head, I smiled at the memory of five-year-old Luke screaming his head off when shampoo accidentally got into his eyes and bit on my lower lip to suppress the urge to laugh. The poor bloke was traumatised!

  He never did quite recover from that and I knew to this day he still held a slight grudge towards my Mother, who was the main culprit behind the attack. It was the foremost reason he had major trust issues when it came to such activities; his earlier insistence of, “Get the fuck away from me with that shampoo!” suggesting as much.

  "You were the first girl I ever saw naked, ya know?" he proudly detailed, as if the very thing were an actual achievement.

  "Same. The first willy I ever saw was yours," I replied, finishing off his 'bubble beard' and smiling at how hilarious he looked. “Set the standard pretty high, too,” I added, lightly bopping him on the nose.

  “It’s the last one you’ll ever see as well,” he sternly informed, though not before smiling at my finishing product.

  He went to reach for his phone and whilst taking a sneaky photo of us both, proceeded to nibble on my ear before popping the device back down and away from the dangers of water damage. His playfulness was certainly not lost on me and as the true saying went; I gave him a taste of his own medicine. I ruffled up his hair and pretended to feast on his chin, all while I wiped away the many bubbles. We were the very definition of sickeningly happy but I couldn’t care less, especially since we were alone. I’d never been particularly fond of open affection but with Luke, I found I never wanted his hands off me.

  “You like what you see?” he laughed, noticing my blatant stare.

  “Hmm. I just feel extremely lucky,” I smiled, caressing his cheeks.

  “Nonsense, I’m the lucky one,” he insisted, pulling my face close to his as to engage in yet another sweet kiss.

  Midway through, the doorbell chimed and in doing so, signalled our food's early arrival. Unfortunately, it also prompted the end of our shared dip in the bath.

  "I'll get it," I offered, climbing out of the tub and quickly drying off.

  I grabbed Luke’s shirt from off the floor and lightly draped it around my naked body; pairing it with skimpy shorts and fluffy socks. I was still moderately exposed but figured I could just hide behind the door, grab our dinner and offer the young gent there some money.

  “Cash is on the coffee table!” yelled Luke, initiating my immediate stop.

  I gracefully picked up the twenty he had resting on the glass surface and proceeded to make my way towards the front door when whoever was behind it grew seemingly impatient and decided to knock again.

  “Just a minute!” I shouted, fiddling with the lock. "Sorry, I was just-"

  I began my apology but stopped short when my brain eventually registered what, or rather who was stood before me.

  I blinked a few times to ensure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me and remained inhumanly still, fighting off all sorts of crazy scenarios in my head as to what he could possibly want. He had aged a few years since I last saw him, but t
here was no mistaking those green eyes and that strong bone structure of his. He was the same person alright, only now he looked lost. It was obvious he didn’t expect to see me here, and as I opened my mouth to enquire about his arrival, I sounded awfully abrupt in my questioning.

  "What are you doing here, Dan?"

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Confrontation

  As I stared into the dull, green eyes of the man I once loved, I realised I felt nothing for him whatsoever. Sure, my heart sunk at his obvious suffering but other than that, nothing.

  “Are you okay? You look a little pale,” I asked, kindly telling him he looked like shit.

  He was thinning at the waist and chewing on his lower lip like nobody’s business, both of which concerned me. Dan was often known for smoking cannabis back in Uni and even I knew towards the end it got slightly out of control. Now, it looked to have spiralled and I dreaded to think what drugs were currently pumping around in that system of his.

  "Maya," he whispered; voice cracking at the seams.

  His tone was pleading and whilst I’d hardly go as far as to say my heart broke, it certainly didn’t swell either. If ever I needed confirmation that I no longer held romantic feelings for my ex, here it was. Although that wasn’t to say I didn’t care. It hurt to see him in such a state of distress.

  “What’s happened, Dan?”

  His eyes were unable to focus and although vertical for now, I suspected he wouldn’t be for much longer unless I offered him a seat, sharpish.

  “Do you have any paracetamol or anything? I need something to take the edge off,” he rasped, clinging to his head as though suffering extent pain.

  I wanted to tell him no but feared he may resort to other methods of persuasion if I were to even say so.

  “Erm, I have some in my bag. Is it wise to take them? It won’t hurt you will it?” I asked, handing over the packet.

  I watched on in horror as he cracked open three and swallowed the lot without needing water, reaching for a fourth.

  “That’s enough,” I warned, removing the pills from his grasp.

  His soft eyes lingered on me for a second and even though chapped to the extreme, his worried lips managed a small smile, heartbreakingly sad in its statement.

  “You’re wearing his shirt,” he commented, pointing towards my chosen attire. “It didn’t take him long, did it?”

  I reluctantly let out a sigh and silently scorned myself for not covering up more in the form of real clothing. I wasn’t ashamed of my relationship with Luke, but that didn’t mean I wanted to parade it underneath my ex’s nose.

  “And I assume you’re sleeping with him?” he asked, apparently needing spoken confirmation.

  “Yes, she’s sleeping with me,” spoke Luke, joining us from the safety of his bathroom, minus a shirt.

  Bloody marvellous!

  My name on his chest appeared to be glowing and had I not known any better, I’d say Luke chose to go topless on purpose. Sure, I stole his current shirt from the bathroom floor but would it have killed him to grab another?

  “Here he is. Luke Anderson; the one and only,” mocked Dan, apparently feeling better now he’d washed down a dose of paracetamol.

  His violent tremors had somewhat subsided, yet still in dire need of help, I found myself wishing he would leave.

  “What are you doing here?” I questioned, adopting a tone resembling that of patronising.

  I didn’t mean to sound condescending but implementing a calming tone seemed to be the sensible thing to do. After all, who knew what he was capable of? Being maxed up to the eyeballs could see a person do unthinkable things.

  "I’m in a spot of bother,” he replied, leaning back and casually resting each arm on the sofas back.

  “What kind of bother?” asked Luke, pinning me to his side.

  Was he scared?

  “Same as last time.”

  “How much?" he responded, conversing with Dan as though I wasn’t present.

  “Two grand.” He paused, looking suddenly remorseful. “They’re following her.”

  “What?” I interrupted, no longer able to just silently sit back and listen. “Who’s following me?” I asked, having my biggest fears confirmed when Dan looked nothing short of guilt-ridden.

  “No one’s following you, Maya. He’s just trying to get a reaction from you,” explained Luke, unknowing to my current predicament.

  He proceeded to keep me positioned by his side but I soon escaped his tight hold, needing answers.

  “Grey eyes? Neck tattoos?” I asked, aiming my enquiry at Dan. “He’s following me because of you, isn’t he? Why?”

  “What the hell, Maya?”

  Luke appeared suddenly furious as he directed his question at me; his undeniable confusion on the matter making me wary.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this was happening?” he asked, certainly picking his moments.

  His desperate tone and anxious expression didn’t sit well with me, though I didn’t dare let on. I wouldn’t gift Dan the satisfaction. If he was getting some sort of sick kick out of this, I certainly wouldn’t be feeding into it.

  “I asked you a question, answer me,” I demanded, not taking my eyes away from Dan’s.

  “Yeah, it’s because of me,” he whispered, ever the coward.

  “For fuck sake, Dan! I said I’d kill you if you did this again,” growled Luke, baring actual teeth. “What part of stay the fuck out of her life didn’t you understand?”

  “Wait, what?” I probed, honing in on the last part of Luke’s speech in particular.

  He was talking as if he had an active part in Dan’s departure and the sudden realisation that I was being kept in the dark surrounding this whole thing knocked me for six. I didn’t understand any of it and if I wasn’t provided with suitable answers in the next coming seconds, I would’ve expressed my extreme anger in the most terrifying of ways possible.

  “Can someone explain what’s going on? Who are you in bother with and why do I have someone following me?”

  Both Luke and Dan shared an odd exchange; their hateful expression saying it all.

  “It’s Luke’s responsibility to tell you,” smiled Dan, certainly enjoying himself.

  I turned my attention to Luke, waiting not-so-patiently for him to elaborate.

  “Look, Maya. I know you’re confused and scared, but it’s important that you remain calm,” he explained, angering me further.

  “Maybe I’ll calm down if you tell me what’s going on!” I snapped, done with all the secrecy and code-talk.

  Dan piped up from the sofa; the three paracetamols he had knocked back certainly working their magic.

  “There never was a job in Scotland,” he interrupted, obviously changing his mind regarding ‘Luke’s responsibility’. “I owed some people money. Bad people and when I couldn’t pay up, they threatened to hurt you. Luke helped me accumulate the cash and told me to use the rest to skip town. Without you.”

  What the fuck?

  “Fast forward a year later and here I am in the same predicament. They need their cash and they’re threatening you if I can’t get it.”

  Embarrassment and shame both veered their ugly heads and as if that wasn’t bad enough, wrapping my mind around the fact that my Luke was the reason Dan left proved just about impossible. I couldn’t believe it.

  “You paid him to leave?” I whispered, aiming my enquiry at Luke.

  “Yes, but I did it to protect you.”

  “Protect me?”

  “Yeah, he wasn’t just smoking weed, Maya. He was taking pills, snorting coke, and these men he was involved with were dangerous. I didn’t want them knowing you,” he declared, sounding awfully stern.

  I allowed the severity of the situation to sink in before I continued, desperately clutching at straws. I was trying to see the rationality behind it all but was failing miserably in my attempts.

  “How much?” I asked, needing to know.

  “Two thousand.”
r />   Luke lowered his gaze, unable to look at me.

  “Well, at least it was more than fifty quid,” I laughed, though I was far from amused.

  I was disgusted.

  “I should be used to men taking money at my expense by now,” I stated, ignoring Luke’s downfallen face. “Am I not good enough, or something?” I asked no one in particular, verging on hysterical.

  “You know you are, Maya,” insisted Luke, desperate for my gaze on him. “This wasn’t about the money. It was about getting him away from you. He was putting you in constant danger and I was worried sick.”

  “Bullshit!” interrupted Dan, wide-eyed and raring to go. “You were waiting for this moment all along. Couldn’t wait to get rid of me so you could worm your way in. Well, at least now we can swap notes. Tell me Luke; does she warn you when she's about to come for you, too? Scream your name until she's blue in the face? Oh, and does she still do that cute sigh after you've fucked her good and proper?"

  I barely had time to swallow my disgust before Luke launched himself forward and pulled Dan up from the sofa by grabbing the collar of his shirt. He was up and in his face within seconds, emulating the true essence of murderous. Though, quick to use my reflexes, I sensed his need to punch something, and cautiously intervened.

  “Luke, don’t!” I begged, placing my hand on his trembling arm.

  Not expecting my help, Dan momentarily looked to me with appreciation but I didn’t dare gift him the satisfaction of eye contact. What he had said hurt and whether he was high or not was irrelevant.

  “Do you regret taking the money?” I asked, skipping formalities.

  I looked Dan dead in the eye and hoped that in doing so, I initiated honesty.

  “No,” he replied, smugly so. “I only regret not asking for more.”

  His brutal words hit me straight in the gut and not wanting to break down in front of him, I turned my back on them both, determined not to show my tears. Nothing more was said as I moved past both men to escape their pathetic excuses. I simply made my way towards Luke’s bedroom, where upon my entrance I ripped off his shirt and scouted out my own clothing.

  “Maya, please wait.”