The Affair 1 & 2: a New Adult Series

by Olivia Grace

  “Shit,” he cursed.

  With a seductive whine, I encouraged him. “Cum on, baby.”

  With a hard thrust, he exploded.

  “Arrrrgh!”

  He gripped my thighs, causing them to redden as he fought the tension of the intense release.

  His breathing began to slow as the last of his juices drained.

  We looked at one another. Our smiles were giddy, bashful, and new. For once, I felt the intense intimacy that I used to, that I had yearned for, that I had so stupidly sought from a stranger.

  “Let me go get you a towel,” he said as he slid out of me.

  Then he hopped up. As he skipped out of the room, I longingly watched his curvaceous ass disappear around the corner.

  After hearing the bathroom door close, I reached towards the coffee table for my cell phone. I unlocked the screen and opened the Facebook messenger app. I scrolled down to my conversation with Justin. Holding my finger on the tab, the menu popped up. I chose “delete” and watched as the entire conversation disappeared. I then opened the Facebook app, navigated to his page, deleted him as a friend, and blocked him. I did the same to his contact in my phone.

  Tyler startled me as his smiling face appeared around the corner. “Breakfast, Karrie Stahl?”

  Bashfully, I smiled. “Yea. Sure. Let’s eat.”

  Thirteen

  A month and a half later, on a cool Saturday night in November, I was standing at the bar in Pink Rhino smiling at Sabrina and her new nose.

  “It looks great,” I told her as I sipped my Sprite spiked with vodka.

  Club rules were that I was old enough to dance but not old enough to drink. But the bartender had grown to like me, so she spiked my refreshers with a shot or two throughout the night.

  “Thanks.” Sabrina’s smile was wide and assuring. She knew she looked great.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Just an hour.” Then she bit her lips shamefully. “I stole mom’s car. She’s gonna kill me.”

  I giggled. “That’s an understatement.”

  “I had to come see about my bestie. I see you less and less, especially since you got that new car.”

  With earnings from the club, not only had I been able to save my education but I also was able to finance a Buick Enclave. It was no Benz. But the payments were affordable, it was safe, and my dad insisted that I get it when he took me car shopping two weeks prior.

  I smiled at the thought of finally being able to afford a car as I rubbed my fingers through my hair. That night my red locs were bone straight to go along with the black latex and lace body suit that I was wearing. I didn’t want to be the girl next door that night. I thought the dominatrix look was different and more alluring. Yet, Rosie hated it. She spat Italian at me that I knew weren’t endearing words as soon as she saw me.

  “Che cosa l'inferno?! Prendere quella merda! Questo non è il tuo look!”

  Yet, she got over it when I got the right reaction from the crowd my first go round on the main stage.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here,” I told Sabrina. “But I have to work the floor before Ralph sees me…or Midnight.”

  We both giggled.

  “I’ll be back,” I promised as I returned my drink to the bar and disappeared into the crowd.

  The crowd was heavy that night. After two months, I’d acquired my own clientele that were for sure money makers. I knew what they liked and didn’t like and vice versa. No longer was I creeped out by strangers who were too touchy feely with odd requests.

  “New Pussy…”

  My eyes rolled in the back of my head as I heard Midnight’s voice behind me.

  I shot around to face her. “My name is Kar…My name is Ginger.”

  She waved her hand dismissively. I hated when she had these bipolar moments, not knowing whether she wanted to like or dislike me, respect or disrespect me.

  “The guy at table twenty is asking for you,” she spat as she strutted by.

  Everything in me wanted to trip her, but I knew that she would beat my ass before I could lay a hand on her.

  Curiously, I made my way towards table twenty, which was on the second level in a dark corner of VIP. Iggy Azalea serenaded me as I fought my way through the private section that was packed to the hilt with a rowdy bachelor’s party. Yet, in the dark corner at table twenty was a dark figure, clutching a glass filled with a dark whiskey and ice. The brim of his trucker’s cap hid his face as he stared down onto the first level.

  I was sure that he wouldn’t be able to hear me over the music, so I touched his shoulder and bent down to purr rehearsed lines into his ear that would ensure hefty tips.

  However, every rehearsed word that I had recited for weeks was now unbeknownst to me as our eyes met.

  I gasped, seemingly loud enough to catch everyone’s attention, but no one around me heard or noticed my sheer fright.

  Instantly, I turned to walk away but, without standing from his seat, he was able to grip firmly onto my elbow and bring me closer to him.

  He stood and used his overbearing presence to force me into a corner.

  He hovered over me as shame ran through me.

  “Please don’t tell my dad, Brad. I just...I needed.” My words were replaced with embarrassed whimpers.

  I was caught off guard when he said nothing and just intensively stared down on me. His finger to my lips quieted my rambling, and my feelings changed from embarrassment to arousal.

  “I need this,” left his lips in a tone that I could not gather. I figured that after weeks of mourning, he’d traveled to the city and stumbled upon me in a latex getup. Yet, scrutinizing and judgment was nowhere in his expression. I dared not believe it, but I thought I saw lust. “I need you,” could be heard coming from his lips in an almost demanding tenor. “Dance for me.”

  I could smell the whiskey, so I assumed he was drunk. He didn’t wait for an answer. Again, he grabbed me by the elbow and guided me to table twenty. He sat down and brought me down on his lap with him. Embarrassment was no more. Though confusion lingered, I was enslaved by his caress of my hair as I sat paralyzed on his burly lap. The only movement was in my channel that began to treacherously flow like the Mississippi River.

  He smiled admiringly at me. “So beautiful.”

  His hands found the back of my neck. His fingers were lost amongst my locs. The feeling of his grip against my scalp was alarming. Words of wonder and confusion lodged in my tight throat.

  He brought my face close to his.

  His smell choked me as his lips met my ear. “I can’t share you.”

  PART TWO

  The Affair 2

  Fourteen

  Karrie

  I shivered. Literally, the words that left his lips caused me to tremble. I was full of fear and excitement. I froze. Then reality hit me. Suddenly, I moved to leave his lap. Yet, he kept me there. He firmed his grip around the back of my petite neck. He was forcing me to allow his lips to stay fastened against my ear.

  His breath against my face was hot in both temperature and lust. My eyes slammed shut. I bit down on my bottom lip to fight the urge to collapse into him and give him every piece of me.

  “Don’t run.” His words sounded like a demand. Not a request.

  “It’s you?” I asked breathlessly.

  He ignored my confusion. “Don’t leave me.” When it sounded like he was begging, I felt my sex get wet.

  “Is it you?” Tears now accompanied my words. I don’t know why I was panicking. I was ecstatic, upset, and turned on all at the same damn time.

  My emotions were so fucking confused.

  “Promise me that you won’t leave.” His smooth baritone against my ear was like an explosion that broke the dam inside of me.

  Hell, I couldn’t leave. Had I, I would have embarrassingly revealed the puddle that I was sure I was creating on his jeans.

  “We’re attracting attention. You have to dance for me.”

  He loosened hi
s grip enough to allow me to turn to the left. I saw Midnight looking on curiously, along with Dave, one of the bouncers.

  “Smile.”

  Fuck. Every time he ordered me to do something, it sent a shock wave or erotica through my body.

  I smiled, sheepishly, towards our onlookers. On the inside, I was praying that my skin hadn’t turned bright pink.

  “Dance, darling.”

  And I did. I began to move on his lap. As I turned my hips in slow circles to the techno beat, he began to run his big hands over my tiny frame.

  I wanted to faint.

  “Can I do this? Is it okay? Can I touch you?”

  “Touching is allowed,” I managed to allow to escape my throat.

  “Yes, it’s me, darling,” he finally answered.

  Our eyes locked. They weren’t the ocean blue eyes that I would normally stare into and instantly feel passion, love and security. Though they were emerald eyes in the soul of a different man, I did feel the same.

  “Why… What…” Hundreds of questions swam in my head. None of them came out. I wanted to know why he’d gone through such extremes to lie. I wanted to know was his love for me as genuine as his many words had claimed. I wanted to know how he even felt this way with a wi… His wife!

  The recollection of Celeste’s death sudden made me freeze again. “You’re married!” I whispered.

  “I was,” he responded rather nonchalantly.

  “Exactly!”

  I searched his eyes for an explanation that his short, confident words refused to give me. I searched diligently but only saw lust.

  “Dance for me. The song is almost over.” He smiled at me. It was an attempt to change my mood. It was the cutest, most charming smile I’d ever seen. But it didn’t work.

  I thought of Celeste’s funeral. I thought of their kids. “I can’t do this, Brad.”

  He never flinched. His loving eyes never changed. “Yes, you can.”

  He was so encouraging and persuasive.

  Yet, I was still timid and worried. “Brad…”

  “You can … and you will.”

  There he was again. Urging me, pushing me in a way that I had never in my life experienced before. It was as if he saw my insecurity and attacked it like a hungry lion. Pouncing on it until it ran away and revealed the strong and assertive woman that sat on his lap and finally continued to dance, grinding against an impression erection that was fighting its way through his zipper.

  The entire time that I rotated my hips and attempted to act as if I was not as nervous as the day I broke my virginity, I attempted to channel Ginger. I don’t know where she went that fast. As soon as she saw Brad, she through me under the bus, went into the locker room or something! Then when he revealed that he was him, that bitch took a bus to the twilight zone. She was gone. She took my voice, new found sexiness and self-esteem right along with her!

  That bitch!

  However, Brad watched me in a way that I had never been watched before. In his eyesight, I was adored, I was reverend, I was … his.

  Suddenly, I began to realize that this was him; the same man that cuddled with and made love to my insecurities, the man that inhaled my low self-esteem and exhaled my confidence, the man that made my day before I even got out of bed.

  It was him.

  There was no need to feel insecurities between us. They did not exist. With him, I was open, willing and ready. I was confident in my femininity and owned my sexiness.

  He saw me realizing this and smiled so genuinely. He watched the fear in my eyes become replaced with confidence. His lips curled with the most adoring approval and admiration.

  “That’s it, darling.”

  I relaxed in the thought that I no longer had to pretend that he was there with me because was there; live and in the flesh… Hot, adorable tanned peach-colored flesh that I wanted to run my tongue against.

  He felt me relax. He saw my content. He watched me as I looked longingly at every detail of his face.

  “Come with me.”

  I gulped. “Where?”

  “Out of here.”

  Everything in my heart wanted to go, but everything in my logical mind said no. Outside of our loving and erotic chat box was reality. His current reality was full of chaos that I dared not step into the middle of. I wanted to go. I would have followed him anywhere. But I feared the big murderous elephant in the room.

  The town had been buzzing with news, both facts and hearsay, about Celeste’s murder. There was no suspect, but Brad had been questioned. He was not a suspect in the eyes of the law. He was the suspect to many people in town, however. No one understood why a normally quiet town had been attacked by this murderer in the middle of the night that never struck again. Brad had also been put on paid administrative leave, pending the investigation.

  No one had outright pointed the finger at him, but the town was buzzing in wonder and gossip.

  “I… I haven’t made house.” I regretted that lame, immature response as soon as I said it.

  Real smooth, Karrie.

  He slipped his hand into his pocket. When he pulled it out, he put something large inside of my hand, telling me. “You’ve made house. Let’s go.”

  I looked down at my hand. In it was a bundle of one-hundred dollar bills. It was house and then some.

  I had to go. Smart or not, I could not let this night end like this. Not when I had so many questions.

  I hadn’t even answered when again his warm hand wrapped around the back of my neck and brought my face close to his. The opportunity to breathe the same air as him was electrifying. I inhaled deeply, simmering in the taste of his breath against my tongue. His eyes pierced through mine and straight to my soul. I wanted so badly to feel the erection that danced underneath me inside of my presently slick walls. I could imagine that my eyes had so much yearning in them that I nearly looked pathetic.

  His mouth; I was so close to the mouth that I dreamt of. Though there was a big difference in the appearance, what I felt in his presence was the same. I fought the urge to be eager, to take his mouth with mine without asking or his acknowledgment.

  He knew. He saw the craving inside me. I was sure that he could see how I salivated with hunger.

  Running his fingers up my scalp, he palmed my head and pulled me close to him. I wondered why his aggression drove me so insane, as he kissed my forehead. My mouth pouted in disappointment. I wanted those lips in other places, nastier places.

  “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

  I heard him, but I was embarrassingly stuck in the moment. Yet, I was snapped out of it when he lightly tapped my ass with one hand. His other hugged the glass of abandoned whiskey and brought it to his lips. I wanted to be that whiskey. I thought of the hours he’d spent caressing me with words that had changed my outlook on love. I wanted him to literally drink me.

  He sat back so coolly that I almost wanted to dislike him. He was so bold, so cocky.

  He saw my urgency, my yearning, my desire, and only said, “Fifteen minutes, darling.”

  I finally found mobility. My legs finally started working. I stood, hoping that I hadn’t left a stain on his pants.

  I hadn’t, thank God.

  I could feel him watching me as I walked away. I begged for Ginger to assist me in

  walking to the locker room, as graceful as possible, because I knew he was watching. Along the way, I asked myself the questions that I wanted to ask him so badly.

  “What the fuck?! What is going on?” I muttered to myself in order to prevent from looking like a fool, dressed in leather, talking to herself. “This can’t be real. This fucking can not be real.”

  I barged through the locker room door unknowingly. The three dancers inside, including Midnight, jumped. Yet, I was too into my own utter confusion to even pay any attention to them. Within seconds, I felt someone hovering over me as I slipped out of my outfit and heels.

  “Leaving early, New Pussy?”

  My eyes rolled int
o the back of my head. This was not the time.

  “Back off, Midnight.”

  “Ooo.” Her grin was full of sarcasm. “New Pussy isn’t the timid little White girl anymore.”

  I sucked my teeth. “Midnight, please. Not tonight.”

  “Seriously…” Suddenly, her voice changed. She was like sincere and kind. It was weird. “Are you leaving with that guy?”

  “I know him. He’s a friend. I’m just hanging out.”

  She wanted to say a lot. I could see it in her eyes, behind her Chinese bangs. She thought I was lying. She was judging me. However, she only said, “Be careful.”

  I nodded as I slipped into a pair of skinny jeans. She made an about-face on her six-inch heels. I wasn’t going to explain anything to her. If she assumed that I was about to leave with a proposition to sell my ass for rent, so be it. I was on a mission, and her condemning eyes weren’t going to stop. She didn’t know that that man had my heart for months. That I’d held my breath for weeks, waiting for the moment that he spoke to me. That I had walked around for what felt like eternity with this massive hole that needed closure. Now he was here - not in a chat box, not in my dreams... here. I had to go. I had no choice.

  Exiting the locker room, I looked around quickly for Sabrina. I didn’t see her in her usual spots. She wasn’t at the front bar or the back bar. Not a fiber in my being wanted to keep Brad waited. Memories of him standing me up had me full of fear that he would not be in that parking lot waiting for me. I’d waited too long to have this moment. I didn’t want to risk losing it because I was looking for Sabrina. So, I shot her a text, saying that I looked for her before leaving because I didn’t feel good.

  Having to lie to her for the first time in my life should have been a sign that I should not be doing this. Yet, I ignored the gut feeling.

  After paying house, I made my way towards the back door of the club. As always, a bouncer followed me, to ensure my safety. Surprisingly, as I slipped out of the back door and into the cool Chicago night, Brad was standing there, waiting to be my protection as well.