I enjoyed drinking and hanging out with Raven as much as I enjoyed fucking her.
Maybe more.
20
Raven
Zach’s show at the Improv is awesome. The guy is funny as hell and just oozes charisma on stage, and the Friday night crowd is enthusiastic. As I sit laughing, I can’t help but think how utterly different he is from Link. Maybe this is what I needed, to start seeing someone who’s the opposite of the guy I can’t stop thinking about. Then again, just having that thought means I’m still thinking about Link.
They say that a woman is never really impressed with a man until she sees him performing a skill he’s exceptional at compared to other men, and by the time Zach’s thirty-minute set is done and he finds my table, my appreciation for him has doubled. As has my desire to sleep with him.
He’s all smiles as he takes a seat.
“Oh my God, Zach, you were so funny! And the crowd loved you.”
“Thanks. Yeah, the crowds here in LA are true comedy fans. It’s when I’m onstage in Omaha or Dallas that things get dicey.”
The emcee finishes introducing the next comic and he takes the stage.
“You want to see some more, or would you rather have drinks with me at the bar?” Zach asks.
“Is this guy as good as you?” I reply with a sly smile.
“Not even close.”
“Then the bar it is.”
We take a couple of seats at the bar in the front room, drinking and talking. I’m very relaxed around Zach and my side hurts from laughing so much tonight.
“Want another?” he asks. “I’m buying—or at least I am if they remember to deduct these from my pay.”
I already had the club minimum two drinks, while sitting inside waiting for Zach’s set, and I’m just finishing my second one here at the bar. Needless to say, I’ve got a nice buzz going. I’ve also got a strong desire to take this cute guy back to my place and rip his clothes off. At this point, my inner slut has awakened and I’d love to be taken advantage of and rough-fucked.
“Um… I’m already a bit drunk,” I say. Hint, hint. “How about you take me to my place instead?”
“I’m not a cab driver!” he says with feigned indignation.
I’m not laughing though. I lean toward him.
“Shut up, Zach,” I say, “and take me home and fuck me before I change my mind.”
I kiss him before we even get in the car, and it’s not bad. There are no fireworks like there were with you-know-who, but it’s still a kiss. There’s a man with his tongue in my mouth, and that’s a welcome change from my recent celibacy.
On the way to my house, the alcohol starts playing with my mind, giving me slutty ideas. Take off your shirt and ride topless to your house, Raven.
Lean over and give him a blowjob while he drives, Raven.
Make him fuck you up against the car in a parking garage, Raven.
They all sound like amazing suggestions that I would love to act on. I do none of them, however, because I have no idea how Zach would react if I did. Some guys are scared off by women who are into shit like that. That was one of the things I loved about Link. Link seemed to like me more the sluttier I behav…
Goddamn it, Raven, stop it. Link’s gone. He’s gone, and there’s a hot guy right next to you who wants to have sex tonight.
I resist my sexual urges for another few blocks, until I decide it would be much more fun to give in to them.
“Hey, I have a really great idea. Wanna do something crazy?”
As I’m saying it, I turn in the passenger seat and place my hand on Zach’s thigh.
He arches an eyebrow. “This should be interesting.”
I slide my hand a little closer to his crotch.
“Let’s park somewhere and fuck in the back of your car.”
Uh-oh. It sounded so much less slutty in my head than it did coming out of my mouth.
“Like, where?”
“I don’t care, Zach. One of those overlooks up on Mulholland. The roof of the parking garage at the Grove. Anywhere we can park.”
“What if we get caught?” Hey, he’s actually considering it.
“We won’t. And if we do, so what?”
His expression changes, and he appears to be talking himself out of it.
“I love the idea, Raven,” he says, “but I can’t risk getting in the news for something like that.”
Well, damn it. It sounded so exciting, so dirty.
“It’s okay, I understand.”
Only I don’t, really.
A few minutes later, we pull into my drive. I’ve somehow managed to keep all my clothes on, despite every instinct telling me to take them off in the car. The minute I close the door of my house behind us, though, I start stripping. Zach watches me take off my shoes, then pull my shirt off, somewhat baffled by my hurry. He may be content to go slow, but I’ve been building up to this since yesterday. His eyes grow big as I peel off my pants, then shuck my bra and panties.
“Oh, my god,” he says. “Those tattoos.”
I’d rather he notice my curves than my ink, but whatever. Taking his hand, I lead him to my bedroom, then immediately slide down to my knees and undo his pants, lowering them along with his underwear. In front of me I see a nice-looking, completely normal penis. I’m willing to bet that the Wikipedia page for “penis” has a picture of one that looks just like Zach’s. I’m good with that; it’s attractive and at least serviceable in size. The fact that it’s hanging completely limp after he’s watched me strip is a little annoying, but I’m aching to give a blowjob.
I take that cock in my hand and open my mouth, only to see Zach bend down and pull his underwear and pants back up, separating me from the blowjob I was so ready to perform.
I look up at him.
“Slow down, speedy,” he says, almost apologetically. “Come sit with me for a minute.”
Confused, I follow him to the bed and take a seat next to him. Even though he’s just thrown a wrench into my plans, it’s still sexually thrilling for me to be fully naked while he’s still dressed. I scoot over until my bare thighs touch his jeans.
“What’s up?” I ask with a dirty smile, putting my hand on his crotch and trying to find his zipper. “I am dying to get you in my mouth.”
Zach takes my wrist and moves my hand gently off him.
“Raven, I can’t do this. You’re kind of drunk and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”
I look at him, my eyes no doubt a little glassy, as I think this over.
“Here’s the deal,” I say, “I decided this morning when I woke up that I was going to have sex with you tonight. And I was a hundred percent sober when I decided it. See? You’re not really taking advantage of me.”
I hear my words and realize I sound buzzed. I am not drunk, though.
“Yeah, but I’m not the kind of guy who feels comfortable with that. I just met you yesterday. This all feels a little rushed.”
I sigh and look down. There are my nice tits. There’s my cute, bare pussy. I have a lovely tattooed body, ready to be totally ravaged by a man. And next to me is a guy who’d rather be cautious. Well, fuck caution.
“Zach, I want you to take advantage of me. I think you’re an attractive guy and while I was tattooing you I was simultaneously wondering what you were like in bed.”
He doesn’t say anything, and I start to think I’m making some progress, but this needing to convince him is taking a toll on my own desire. I decide to give it one last shot, and I climb onto his lap, facing him, and push him back until he’s lying on the bed. Leaning forward, I kiss him hard, pressing my tits against him and grinding on his crotch just enough so that he’ll feel it.
Zach kisses back, but I feel no excitement from his end and after a minute or so he’s still not hard.
I pull back, looking into his eyes. There’s no spark of desire, no mischievous look that might indicate we’re on the same page here.
That’s it, I’m done.<
br />
Climbing off him, I look around the room. Where the fuck are my panties?
Zach says, “Look, we can just chill for a while if you want. Maybe then…”
Maybe then what? Maybe I’ll be sober enough for you to fuck me? That doesn’t work; I want to be fucked now.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, still looking for my panties. “I had fun at the club. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Raven, I’m not saying I don’t want to have sex with you. I do. I just want to do it the right way. I don’t want to regret it.”
I think, Dude, nobody has ever regretted having sex with me.
I can’t say that, though. Or at least I don’t say it.
“Maybe it would be better if you just went home. I think I’m just going to go to sleep.”
“Sure, if that’s what you want.”
I already told you what I want.
Still naked, I walk him to the living room and see my clothes piled up near the front door. Oh yeah, I remember taking them off there. I don’t bother to put them on, though, because what’s the point? He’ll be gone in a few seconds anyway.
I kiss Zach chastely on the lips—no tongue—and give him a brief hug.
“Those tattoos are incredible,” he says, looking me over. “How many do you have?”
“A shitload. Thanks for the laughs tonight, Zach. You’re a very talented guy.”
“Can we go out again? Okay if I call you?”
“Sure,” I tell him, already certain that kiss I just gave him was the final curtain of our little no-act play.
“Good. I like you a lot, Raven,” he says. “Sorry if this first date got a little weird.”
It’s obvious he means it. It doesn’t matter now, though, as I look into his eyes and smile wanly, then open the door and watch him walk away into the night.
Zach’s a nice guy, concerned about doing the right thing. You know, always respectful, the kind of guy your mother hopes you’ll end up with.
That’s not what I want. I want someone who will fuck me like I’m aching to be fucked right now, who will pin me down to the bed and have his way with me, and who will like it just as much when I turn the tables and get rough with him afterward. I have no need for respect, unless it’s the respect I earn by being a total badass in bed. Zach’s respecting me enough to question my intentions is just a way of saying he doesn’t think I’m capable of always making my own decisions. It’s the nice guy’s way of taking that decision, of what I want to do with my body, out of my hands.
If I say I want to be taken advantage of, then you accept my gracious invitation and get busy doing it.
I don’t want to be questioned.
I don’t want a nice guy.
I want a man.
Like Link.
The thought pops into my head to text him, to tell him to come by just for some purely physical fun. No conversation, no emotions, no strings whatsoever.
No future at all, just the present. Tonight, not tomorrow.
Instead I go to sleep with my cats.
21
Link
It’s game six of the NBA’s Western Conference finals, and if the Lakers win tonight, they’ll be moving on the finals. It’s the biggest thing going on in town at the moment, and anyone who’s anyone is in the Staples Center. I’m there, too, but only because Marcus got me a ticket. I’m sitting next to his girlfriend, Rashida, her kid, Jayden, and Marcus’s sister, Macie. We’ve got good seats, about five rows up behind the Lakers’ bench.
I look across the arena and in the courtside seats along the baseline I spot Drake and Mason, with Allie and Claire. Not long ago I would have been sitting in those seats with my buddies, but since these two women arrived on the scene, I give up my seat whenever they want to come. I wouldn’t miss tonight’s game, though, so I asked Marcus for a ticket and he was happy to hook me up.
Rashida and I get along great, and Jayden’s a sweet kid. He adores Marcus, too. I doubt a kid has ever loved his mom’s boyfriend as much as Jayden loves Marcus, which makes watching a game with Jayden ridiculously fun. Macie’s pretty cool, and quite attractive, but since she’s Marcus’s sister and still in college, it’s hands off.
Tonight’s game is the Grizzlies’ last chance. If they lose, their season is over, and in the first half they scratch and claw their way to an eight-point lead. Drake and Mason meet me in the Hyde Lounge for halftime drinks and they again thank me for not making a big deal out of Allie and Claire getting two of Drake’s four tickets.
“How’s the gig with Jackie Hightower going?” Drake asks.
He’s smirking because he thinks it’s hysterical that I was having sex with Jackie.
“I quit yesterday.”
“What? You quit, just out of the blue? Why the fuck would you do that?”
I guess there’s no reason not to tell him.
“She suggested me to Marissa Mooney for a one-off event job yesterday at LACMA. Afterward, Marissa took me to her house and got naked, pretty much demanding sex.”
Mason is surprised. “Wait, Marissa Mooney wanted to fuck you—and you said no? She’s a sexy little thing. I’d fuck her if I weren’t taken.”
“That’s not the point. I’d fuck her, too. At least I wasn’t against it, until it became obvious that she hadn’t actually hired me for security. She’d hired me specifically for sex. On Jackie’s recommendation.”
Drake’s eyebrows raise. “Whoa, that’s a little strange.”
“’Strange’ is too polite. It’s fucked up, that’s what it is. So, I said no and left. Marissa actually followed me into the street, butt-naked, yelling at me that I was an idiot. I called Jackie and quit a minute later.”
He sucks in a breath. “Totally understandable. After the Oscars thing, you’ve got all the work you can handle anyway.”
I nod, glad that he can see it my way.
Mason takes a sip of bourbon. “So, how does Marissa look naked? Good body?”
I laugh. Of course that’s what they both want to know. “Fucking hot, bro. Slammin’ little body. She’s kinda psycho, though.”
“Yeah, I can see that she might be,” Drake says. “Hell of a director, though.”
I’m actually amazed that Drake hasn’t had sex with Marissa. She’s been around for about a decade, and it seems like he’s fucked every showbiz chick in town.
“Given any more thought to calling that tattoo chick again? What’s her name?”
I give him the evil eye.
“No. And her name is Shut The Fuck Up.”
Drake laughs. “Dude, just remember this: I know you better than you know yourself. And I saw something in your face when you first told me about her.”
I ignore him and finish my bourbon while simultaneously signaling for another.
“We need to talk about business, Link,” Mason says, his tone suddenly serious. “Right now you have options because your profile is still high enough, but that’s fading fast and those options will disappear, too. It’s time to get ambitious.”
My friend obviously doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does.
“I am ambitious. I just don’t want to be famous. I would be completely happy being unknown. Fame is for other guys.”
“Well, we should still talk about your options while they’re still available. Your situation is pretty much now or never.”
Mason just doesn’t get it. I promise to stop by the office soon so we can discuss my “situation,” then steer the conversation back to the Lakers game.
The second half is a different story than the first. Marcus scores the first eight points of the third quarter and the Lakers win going away. There’s a huge celebration on the floor and confetti and streamers falling from the rafters. Marcus looks happy, but his is a measured happiness, while everyone else on the team is giddy. Rashida, Jayden and Macie make their way down to the court and I follow behind. They all have clearance passes. I don’t have one, but no security guard is going to fuck with me anyway.
We stand nearby as the arena announcer interviews Marcus. It actually takes a full minute for the cheering to subside so that he can begin. “Marcus, you don’t look as thrilled as I would’ve thought you’d be. You’ve helped the Lakers to their first conference title in a decade!”
Marcus is cool as can be. He smiles just a bit and says, “I’m happy, man. But we’ve still got a lot of hard work to do. Can’t stop yet. No rest until we’re holding that trophy up high.”
The crowd goes nuts. I’m happy for the guy. He’s a close friend, one of my closest, but Marcus used to have his head so far up his ass he could barely walk. In the last year or so, he’s turned everything around. New attitude, huge new endorsement contract, and just last week he was named the NBA’s Most Valuable Player. Now he’s got the Lakers on the verge of a championship and there’s no one more popular in Los Angeles at the moment than Marcus Jennings. Not even Drake.
I feel a hand slip into mine and I look down to see Rashida’s brown skin against my white-dude fingers. She’s looking straight ahead at Marcus, tears streaming down her cheeks. I can’t help but grin.
“What a season,” I say.
Rashida can barely talk, she’s so fucking happy.
“I’m just so proud,” she says. “He’s worked so hard for this.”
The look on her face is priceless. It’s pure, infinite love. I’d give anything to feel that someday, and to know someone loves me that much.
That shit ain’t in the cards for me, though.
Marcus arrives to hug everyone, including me. When he goes to the locker room, his family waits for him in the Hyde Lounge, where Drake, Mason, Allie, and Claire have already assembled. I celebrate with everyone for a few minutes, then decide it’s time to check out.
I say my goodbyes and start to head out, but Drake catches up to me and stops me just outside the lounge. People in the arena concourse stop and stare, whipping out their cameras.
Hollywood Bad Boys Club, Book 4: Link Page 15