Private Message

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Private Message Page 6

by Danielle Torella

"Boys in books are better."

  And that's that. I walk past him out of the back room, and out of the coffee shop, finally. It's been a long day with Ben on my mind, I just don't get him. As I am thinking about him yet again my back pocket buzzes. An incoming text from Ben: Have a good time tonight…not too good of a time ;)

  I snort, ha! He actually used a winky face? I just shake my head, return my phone to my back pocket, hop in my car, and drive home. James will be here in an hour so I better get ready and force some food down my throat. I don't seem to be very hungry today, not with my thoughts returning to Ben and his body, the way his mouth tastes on mine…it's the only thing I seem to be craving. Ugh! I need a cold shower!

  As punctual as ever, James is here right on time. I love that about my brother; at least one of us can show up on time. He knocks on my door and I rush to let him in. His six-foot frame towers over me he wraps me as up into a big bear hug. It's crazy how he got all the height, but we have different mothers. Before I was born, my dad had cheated on my mom for a while, and eventually he came clean. They got divorced, my mom got full custody of me, and my dad ended up marrying his mistress.

  I didn't find out that I had an older brother until I was about five years old. I started to have visits with my dad and his new family at that age. Up until that point I would cry about leaving my mom to go spend time with him because he was a total stranger to me. But once I met James we were attached at the hip. I started asking to go to my father's more often just so I could spend time with James. He was a cool big brother who didn't whine when I asked him to play Barbies or have tea parties. He wanted to make me happy. As I got older and began self-exploration, I found rock music and the feelings it provoked in me, the security and passion I felt then and still have now. I began to dress a little more alternative than the kids at my school, and that opened up the doors for bullies. Once James got wind of that, well, let's just say I didn't have any more problems at school. On the outside he looks like Kellen Lutz, a big ol' teddy bear in my eyes, but to someone who's about to receive a good beating. He's pretty damn intimidating.

  I started going out at night to go to these rock shows alone, not having many friends, so alone was my only option. Mom didn't like the idea of rock concerts, and she hated the idea of me going to them by myself. So she put her foot down and said no altogether. I just went out my bedroom window. I was about fifteen when I started doing that, and one night James was at the same small show I was, and he flipped out! Telling me how dangerous it was for a small young girl like me to be out alone at night, with drunken assholes all around me. The problem was that I didn't even notice anyone else when I was at a show. Once the music starts, I am consumed whole. So from that night on, whenever I wanted to go to a show he made me promise to take him along, for precaution. I love my big brother more than anyone.

  "So are you ready, Tessy? Or do you need another half hour as usual?"

  I stick my tongue out at him. "No, for once, I think I am good."

  His eyebrows shoot up in shock. "Seriously? So does that mean we can head out a few minutes early and grab a bite to eat? I haven't had a chance yet, and I really fucking hate cheap venue food."

  I grab my small black purse and my red Kodak easy shot camera and we walk out the door.

  "So, where are you stashing that thing tonight? Or do I not want to know?" My brother only knows me too well. He knows that I will probably stick my camera in my bra to get past security. I'll be damned if I can't get any pics of this show! The band is freaking amazing!

  "No, you don't," I tell him with a laugh.

  He just drops his head and shakes it.

  We decide to just do the whole drive-thru thing tonight since doors open in twenty minutes, and I like to rush to the front to get front and center to the action. The line isn't really all that bad, but I take notice that they are all wearing coats and will probably stop at coat check, ha! One step ahead! I didn't wear a jacket! Dumbasses. We get in and of course I am right, so I grab James's hand and run to the front of the stage. James takes his typical stance behind me to keep other fans from thrashing into me and to block any crowd surfers. He's my personal bodyguard.

  The crowd really starts to pack in after the second opening act. With one arm at each of my sides, holding the barricade in front of us, James becomes my human shield. He never complains about doing this with me. One time I asked him and he told me he gets to see killer bands and shows, and spend time with his baby sister, even if that includes being slammed into and being dropped on. See why I love him so much?

  The drummer beats his sticks above his head and the band jumps right into a hard fist-pounding song. And that's when my adrenaline kicks up a few notches. I begin to slam around and semi-head-bang. I am so not like the other girls at most of these shows. I don't come in wearing miniskirts and what look like bikini tops. I don't hop on shoulders and flash the bands. I am the girl in the jeans, Converse and a tank top. Simple. Clean and classic. I scream with the lyrics until I can no longer hear myself. I know I won't even be able to talk in the morning, but that's OK, because it's what I live for.

  The band is halfway through their set and I reach into my top and pull out my camera while security is attending to a fistfight just left of the stage. But I'm being bumped into, and it's blurring my shots. If only I could be on the other side of this barricade with the other "press" photographers. One day, Tess. One day.

  As I bob my head to one of my favorite slower songs, I see a great opportunity, so I whip out my little weapon and hold it out, only to find a figure right in front of me.

  "You know you can't have that in here, don't you?" the tall figure asks.

  It's Ben.

  Oh. My. God. What is he doing here? And how is he in front of me? Riiiight, he works for a music magazine dummy, you just talked about that. But I was not expecting to see him here tonight. I actually haven't thought about him since I walked into this place. So to see him standing directly in front of me, at this moment, is blowing my mind.

  He keeps eyeing me, waiting for me to say something, and then turns his attention above and behind me. That's when I remember that's where James is. Ben's eyes go from smoldering to ice cold. What is his deal?

  "What are you doing here?" I ask him.

  He looks back down at me. He has to speak up a lot more since the band has started a more upbeat song. "Work" is all he says.

  Oh, this is how it's going to go down, is it? He's going to make assumptions? Well, guess what, buddy, you have no claims on me. We are not dating; I wouldn't even say we are friends. Just two people who have made out...

  "Right, the magazine." I am not about to tell him that James is my big brother. Let him assume.

  Talking even louder, he says, "Can I call you later after the show?"

  Oh yeah, he's trying to make himself heard by James, trying to rile up some trouble, I am sure, or at least start a fight between James and I. I snort and roll my eyes at him.

  "Text me" is all I say. And once more he looks from me to James, and he leans in and kisses me on the cheek, and nods.

  OK, it was only a little kiss on the cheek, but that was all it took for me to reach my total high. I was there in my element: the music, the vibe from the fans, the heat in the venue, the scent that he was radiating in front of me, the smell of his sweet breath against my cheek. I am at a total loss. I can't control myself. The next thing I know I have my hands wrapped around the back of his neck, my fingers fisting the hair that grazes his neck, and I am pulling his mouth to mine. He didn't refuse me. Oh, thank god he didn't refuse me.

  Pushing our bodies up against the metal barricade between us, he wraps his long toned arms around my waist. His tongue dips into my mouth and I can no longer hear or see anything but him. His tongue is hot, thrusting into my mouth with great force, and I think if he keeps kissing me like this I am going to come. And as much as I want that right about now, I don't want a venue full of people to witness it, let alone my older brother! SHIT!
James is still behind me!

  "Eh-hem," I hear come from behind me. I reluctantly pull away from Ben. His breathing is staggered and coming out harsh.

  He licks his lips. "I'll call you later."

  And he's gone. As he's walking back around the side of the stage, the band finishes their last song, everything begins to settle down and people start to leave the venue.

  As James and I are walking out to the car, he speaks up. "Uh, you want to tell me what the fuck that was all about, Tess?"

  I turn to face him "Oh, um…that was Ben." I shrug, trying to calm myself and not look like a little schoolgirl.

  He eyes me and I can already sense his temper rising. Did I mention he's a very protective big brother? Oh crap, what am I going to say so that I don't sound like a slut, but to also to make sure he doesn't totally hate Ben?

  "And who is 'Ben' exactly?" He's all macho.

  Here we go. I suck in a big breath of cool Seattle air and tell him the story. Sort of. I end with: "So she left so we could talk. That's all."

  His mouth has dropped open. "That's all? Are you sure?" He asks.

  "Uh... yeah." I am not going to tell him about the make-out session.

  "So, wait, you're seeing a guy who's a nude model?" He winces.

  I can feel my cheeks heating up. "Uh, yeah…"

  He throws his head back and laughs. "You really know how to pick 'em, Tess."

  "What the hell is that supposed to mean, James? I haven't even had a serious relationship with anyone, and you know that, of all people. Why I can't."

  He throws his hand up in surrender. "You're right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, but really, Tess, a model?"

  I roll my eyes. I know he didn't mean to come off as so judgmental. "No, he's not a model, he works at Tones, that killer music magazine that I am obsessed with. That's why he was there tonight; he must be interviewing one of the bands there for a feature."

  The look on his face tells me something just clicked. "Wait, Ben Mitchell?" he asks me.

  "Yeah, have you read his articles in the magazine?" I ask.

  He bobbles his head from shoulder to shoulder. "Yeah, that, and I have heard he has quite the reputation when it comes to women, Tess."

  "Look, I'm not asking your opinion about the guy, I can take care of myself."

  "I know you didn't ask for my opinion, sis, but you know I am always going to be defensive about you and anyone you might be seeing."

  I give him the tightest hug I could give. "I know and thank you, but please don't worry. If I have an issue with him or any other guy I will let you know so you can introduce your fist to their face, OK?"

  "You got it." He gives me a wicked grin.

  Who the hell was that guy with his arms around her sides tonight? Her boyfriend? She never mentioned anything about a boyfriend. Then again, I never did ask. She knows that I have a bad rep with the women at the bar, but fuck, I'm not seeing anyone. I haven't even slept with a girl since that night I first saw her. Granted I have had a lot of offers, I just don't want them.

  Just thinking about her with that guy pisses me off. She says she's a virgin, so maybe it wasn't her boyfriend. He didn't try to stop me when she was sticking her tongue down MY throat. Ugh, just thinking about that kiss is making me hard. Fuck, it feels like forever since I did anything with a woman. Since meeting Tess, I find myself taking a lot of cold showers and reuniting my hand to my own dick. What am I, back in high school?

  She told me to text her when I asked if I could call her, but I don't care. I need to talk to her. I need to hear her voice. It's been two hours since the show ended, so if that were her boyfriend, then maybe he would be gone by now…I hope.

  "Hello?" Her voice sounds sleepy.

  "So, how did you enjoy the show?"

  She lets out a soft yawn. How can a yawn sound so sexy? "I loved it. I love that band and being able to get up front was the most amazing thing ever."

  Ever? "So not even our little public display of affection could top that?" I tease.

  "Ha, I think it was a combination of both, actually." Her voice sounds a little more seductive now and I wish I were there. I picture her in a form-fitting tank top and panties on her bed.

  "What are you wearing?"

  She sighs. "Nothing special."

  "Oh, come on, anything you wear would be special on you."

  "My favorite T-shirt and boy shorts," she says, and my cock twitches.

  A low growl escapes me. "Nice." And as much as I don't want to bring it up, I have to ask her.

  "So, was that your boyfriend behind you tonight? If so how did he enjoy OUR little show?" OK, I know that sounded a little bitter, but I had to throw it out there.

  She snorts. I can't believe she actually snorts, and she doesn't even try to cover it up like most girls would. "No. That wasn't my boyfriend, Ben." Fuck, I love it when she says my name.

  "Well then I hope it was a gay best friend or something, because I am not in the mood for competition with a straight guy friend who secretly has feelings for you, or whatever little teen drama show you have set up." OK, now I'm rambling, she's rubbing off on me. hmm…that's sounds good right about now…

  "That was my brother James," she says.

  Thank fucking God! I still have a chance with this girl. "Ah, that's good to know. I am surprised he didn't punch me for making out with his sister in front of a few hundred people."

  "Nah, James is cool. He knows that if I need him to rectify a situation I'll let him know." She sounds like they're a Mafia family or something.

  "Good, he should want to protect his amazing sister."

  "Pfft" is all she lets out.

  "When can I see you, Tess?" I'm in a hurry, but what can I say? I get excited around her.

  I hear a wine bottle open when she replies, "Your call."

  That's all it takes and I am on my way.

  Frankly, I was hoping he'd call and want to come over. I want to get some answers about his so-called reputation. I know it's a little late, but I am wide awake, knowing he's on his way over here. SHIT! I better change. I don't want to be wearing my tiny shorts when he gets here! I run to my dresser and pull out a pair of black yoga pants and leave on my black T.

  He must not live too far from me, because about ten minutes after we hung up, he's knocking at my door. I set down a half-drunk glass of wine that I had already poured to steady my nerves. Instead it's only making me horny, and knowing I am about to have Ben and his sweet ass and sexy accent filling my tiny apartment is not helping any. I open the door to see him holding a bouquet of flowers. Where on earth did he find a place open at this hour? And they are my favorite: peonies.

  "Hi," I say when I meet his warm eyes.

  "Hi," he replies. Scanning my body, he says, "Nice shirt."

  He comes into the main room, takes off his black leather jacket, and lays it on the back of a chair.

  "Have a seat. I'll pour you a glass."

  He walks over to me instead. "Sounds great." He takes the bottle and pours his own glass and tops mine off. Taking my hand, he leads me to the sofa.

  We talk about the wine, and I want to know what my favorite wine tastes like on his lips. But if I kiss him right now, I'll never get the answers I am looking for, but instead wake up in the morning no longer a virgin. I can't say no to this man. That excites me and terrifies me to my core.

  I jump up and put my lovely pink plush peonies in a vase. From the kitchen, I speak.

  "So, I hear you have quite the reputation with the ladies." I try to sound nonchalant.

  He twists to look at me. "Now, who told you that?"

  "My big brother says he's heard a thing or two." God, I hope he's not offended.

  I walk back over and sit next to him on the couch. It feels impossible to keep a distance when we are in the same room together.

  He takes my hand. "Look, I know your friend—what's her name, Erin?—has told you about the women I leave with at Chatz, but I can honestly say that since Fri
day night when I saw you there, I haven't been with a woman since."

  I don't know if that makes me feel good or not. The fact that he has been with a lot of women worries me.

  "How many women have you been with?" I take a large sip of my wine. Maybe that way when he tells me, I eventually forget by morning.

  This time he shifts so his whole body is facing mine. "Does it really matter?" He asks me. I try to really think about that. I mean, it's in the past, right? You can't change how many people you sleep with.

  "I guess not." I admit. I finish off my glass of wine. I stand to get another glass. "Refill?" I reach for his glass.

  "Please." His smile is warm as he hands me his empty glass.

  I stalk back into the kitchen, noticing that my legs are a little weak from the wine already. Damn, I hate being such a lightweight. As I fill our glasses I hear music coming from my stereo in the main room. I stop and see him setting his phone down next to my player with the cord connected to it.

  He's playing his own music. He's got really great taste, from what I am hearing. I stare at his toned back, which is clearly visible through the thin white material of his tee. And in those jeans, his ass looks good enough to bite. He turns his head to see me in the kitchen, bends his arm, and crooks his index finger, inviting me to join him across the room.

  I walk slowly to him. Taking in the soft melodic tune that he has chosen to play, my heart is beating a mile a minute. His hands go around my hips and he starts to sway with me. We slowly dance in the same spot, just holding one another. When the tempo picks up on the next song on his playlist, he takes my hand and twirls me around so my back is to his chest. Oh lord, he starts to move his hips into circles, with his finger in my hips he encourages me to follow suit. I circle and grind my backside to his front. I can feel the hardness of his chest at the back of my shoulders, along with the hardness at the lowest part of my back. Sending heat straight to my inner thighs. How can this man get me so riled up just from a few gyrations of his hips?

  I lean my head back against his chest and he leans down close to my ear and whispers: "I need you. I crave you. You drive me wild. There is something different about you than any other woman I have ever met."

 

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