by Xavier Neal
In no mood for their bickering, I interrupt. “Can I check out for the night?”
“Go ahead and knock, Prince A,” she replies and snaps her head back at Brock. “And you do get first look at your test results. Your copy is delivered via the box you checked when you consented. It is not my fault you chose hand delivery then don't want to stick around to see what the piece of paper says, Prince B. However, you consented that I would be offered an available copy the next day, which I got. You wanna be pissed off at someone? Be pissed off at yourself.”
Mr. Money Bag offers me a smile. “Checking out?”
With a short nod, I slide the envelope through the hole for him to count.
Chance mumbles in my ear, “Did you get yours? They come back clean?”
“Of course they did,” I answer in a whisper. “Doesn't everyone's?”
“Not everyone's,” he retorts.
“What do you mean not everyone's?”
“I mean not everyone's.”
Before I can press for detailed information, Mr. Money Bags is sliding my receipt to sign.
Once a month, at random times, French has our blood checked. Not only for drugs but for any STDs or health risks we might have developed. You come up dirty for anything and that's it for you. No questions. No retests. No objections. Remind me to grab mine on my way out.
After being dismissed by him, I turn to back French's direction. “Have a good night, French.”
“Prince A, I actually need to have a word with you.”
“Is it about my test results?” I quickly ask.
“No but-”
“Even if it was, you think she would tell you? No. She would just fucking fire you,” Brock growls.
Sharply standing up she growls back in his face, “You're fucking right I would. You knew what the fuck you signed up for when you joined me. You all read the same paperwork. You were all given the same fucking chance. Do not be pissed at me. I wasn't the one who broke their end of the bargain. He was.”
In no mood to add stress to my already reeling mind, I croak, “Can we talk about it Monday?”
She gives me a brief glance. “First thing. Understood?”
French accepts my nod and returns her viscous scowl to Brock.
When will he ever learn?
Quickly, I exit the office, swing by medical to grab my lab results and head for my car, anxious to get home to a hot shower and my even hotter girlfriend.
Who I am not in love with. That's not what this shit fucking with me is. It's....it's...well, it could fucking be the plague. I don't know! I just know it's not that.
The drive to my loft is short as is the elevator ride up to my floor. Doing my best to enter the place quietly in case Ari passed out while waiting for me, I slip inside, surprised to see her half-awake on the couch. From the side she looks peaceful. Comfortable. Like she's the only person in the entire world aside from me that belongs there. Her head turns to drink me in and the knot in my stomach explodes.
Fuck. That's love isn't it? I can't strip anymore because I've fallen in love? Fuck, what kinda horse shit is that?! Apparently my subconscious is against me being naked for anyone that isn't her. Fucking fantastic.
“It's almost three in the morning,” she yawns.
With a soft smile, I toss my keys on the table beside the door. “Yeah. Why don't you go ahead and get in bed. I'm gonna grab a quick shower and meet you there.”
Ari's face hardens. “Why do you need a shower?”
“I smell like sweat and ass.”
My honesty is met with another stern expression. She folds her arms across her chest. “Why do you smell like ass?”
Not a good time to tell her because I strip and use women like toys to make the show better.
“Because I was working.”
Rightfully so she pins me with another skeptical look. “What kinda server doesn't get in until this late? Is it a 24 hour kind of place? And where is your uniform? Those are just your normal workout clothes.”
Irritated with the line of questioning, mostly because the annoying fact I'm in love with her is still bouncing around, I snap, “What is your problem?” When Ari doesn't answer I bite a second time. “Tell me what the fuck is really bothering you or let me take a fucking shower.”
She bluntly asks, “Are you cheating on me?”
Blindsided, my jaw drops.
Of all the fucking days to be accused of that shit.
“Am I your side girl? Are you secretly married with a wife and 2.5 kids?”
What the hell is .5 of a kid?
“Well?”
I run my hands down my face trying to scrub away the building rage. “Do you really think I'm cheating on you or are you trying to create a reason to break up with me?”
Fuck....
Confusion washes across her face. She remains silent as she looks away. After a hard swallow she shakes her head. “I should go.”
Ari turns away from me to reach for her stuff, which is when my eyes land on the empty wine bottle.
This just keeps getting better and better...
“Are you drunk?”
Defensively she snaps, “You told me to have a drink and relax while I waited for you!”
“I didn't tell you to drink the whole goddamn bottle!”
“Well fuck you! How was I supposed to know I would be drowning my loneliness in high quality grapes!”
As soon as her keys are in her hand, I swipe them. “You're not going anywhere.”
“I wasn't going to drive, asshole. I just need my keys to get into my apartment.”
“Now I'm an asshole because I care about what happens to you?”
“You didn't seem to care about that while I was here waiting all night for you!”
“I told you I would be home late!”
“This isn't late any more, Arik! This is early! This is Sunday morning early. Shit, I might as well have stayed the night at my own apartment and just came over after you showered away your dirty little secret that you say you don't have.”
Never said I didn't have one, just not the one she's assuming.
“You're not leaving.” I shrug. “Be mad. Be pissed. Break my shit. Whatever makes you feel better, but you're not going anywhere until you're sober and we've finished talking this out.”
In classic Ari fashion she snips, “You're gonna hold me hostage?”
My mouth twists tight.
I'm not going to have a drunken dispute with the woman I just fucking realized I love. Nope. Not fucking happening.
“Oh,” she growls. “You just fucking wait until I wake up!”
Without another word she storms off past me and up the stairs to my bedroom on the top level. As soon as I hear the television turn on up there, I kill the one downstairs, and head for the shower.
This entire night went to shit in a whisper. One minute I was minding my own damn business, making money, doing what I do best and the next I'm contemplating a change of career because apparently I fell in love and missed the goddamn memo. Fuck it. Maybe Ari had the right idea when she got wasted. Maybe it's just that kind of night.
Ari
Stretching across the bed I'm surprised when my hand hits the empty pillow. I take a big deep breath in hopes of smelling breakfast, which is the only acceptable reason to be up so early. When nothing caresses my nostrils, I shoot my eyes open. It only takes a brief moment to kick in where I am.
Right....we crashed here last night. If he's not making breakfast why isn't he in bed with me? Did he get up to pee?
The plunking of keys fills the loft with an unexpected melancholy mood. A few more notes linger in my ears, begging me to come down to them. I grab his gray shirt off the ground, slip it on, and slowly descend the steps. As I round the corner, the vision of him shirtless behind his piano steals my breath. His back is to me yet the change in tempo tells me he's aware I'm here.
Cautiously heading his direction, I notice the pillows and blankets thrown askew on the co
uch. An empty wine bottle. His clothes in a pile near the table. The faint memories of an argument rush back to me.
Arik instructs, “Sit.”
Uncertain of exactly how upset he is, I do as I'm told.
My eyes watch his hands caress the chosen notes like women he's spent his entire life pleasing.
He really does have magical fingers. I know it's not the time for that, but I'm just sayin'!
In a soft voice, I admit, “I um... I don't remember much about last night.”
He grunts, “That's what happens when you drink an entire 1500 dollar bottle of red wine alone.”
That explains why that shit was so good. We're talking so good I went on a drunken hunt for more of that as soon as I finished.
“You weren't saving that shit for something important were you? Like...the christening of a niece?”
“It was a housewarming gift from my father.”
In a playful tone I insist, “I'll pay for it.”
Instead of leaking out the sound of laughter I love so much, he shrugs. “I don't give a fuck about the wine, Ari.”
It begins to settle in that this isn't going to blow over as smoothly as I was hoping. A heavy sigh escapes. “Look Arik, I'm sorry for whatever I said last night. I honestly don't remember. It was late. I was drunk and stressed and tired and-”
“I know,” he cuts me off and removes his hands from the keys.
“Then why are you still pissed at me?”
“I'm not,” the whispered confession has my shoulders sinking.
I murmur, “It feels like you're pissed...”
“You had every right to be pissed off last night.”
Not the way I saw this conversation turning. Though I think we can all agree the quickest way to end a fight with a woman is to simply say you were wrong.
“You have every right to suspect I'm cheating on you.”
I swear if the next line out of his mouth is that he is, you better be ready to give me an alibi because I'm gonna need it.
“But I'm not.”
You're off the hook for the moment.
His arm slides around me to play the keys on the other side. “I would never cheat on the woman I love.”
That's good to know. I mean he...wait what? He didn't- He didn't just say that, right? Clearly he misspoke.
As he starts to play again he says, “You're the only woman in my life, Ari. You're the only one in my life that can compare to the love I have for this.” He motions his head towards the piano. “You're the only one I'd give it up for.” Without allowing time for a response he adds, “All of it.”
Leaning my face over to him, I shake my head. “I would never ask you do that. I would never ask you to be someone you're not.”
He wets his lips and softly sings familiar lyrics to me.
It's his audition song. The one that meshed our crazy world's together.
I scoot in closer, his words heating my flesh from their proximity. Arik continues the melody melting my thighs apart until I'm damn near in his lap. Swiftly, he shifts me to straddle him but returns to playing. The piano is now a tool of seduction alongside his breathing of the words against my eager body.
As I wrap my arms around his neck, I beg in his ear, “Touch me instead.”
There's a low groan yet he continues to play.
I run my teeth along his neck and rock against him to plead my case further.
Nope. I am not against sexual terrorism to get what I want from my boyfriend.
His will begins to waver. “Tell me you love me.”
The teasing on his neck stops. Finally the melody ceases. Leaning back to stare into his eyes, I search for the emotions I already know are waiting for me.
This is fast. This has to be too fast. We just started dating....well...okay so maybe it wasn't that recently. But still! How am I supposed to know if I love him? I don't think I do. I mean...What? What do you mean that's what's wrong with me? Be a little more vague please.
He pushes the loose strands behind my ear. “I already know you do.”
How the fuck is that certain? And if he knows it then why do I need to say it out loud?
“But I deserve to hear it said.”
My mouth parts, but nothing comes out.
His arms graze across my hips while he softly whispers, “Do you think about me when I'm not around?”
Sheepishly I answer, “Of course.”
“Do you miss me when I'm gone?”
“A little.”
The feeling of his fingers roaming down to my thighs has me whimpering. “Do you crave anyone else's touch?”
My eyes roll into the back of my head. “Never.”
Arik's cock nudges me at the same time his tongue teases my neck. “First thought in your mind and last at night?” The question is answered with a soft moan. After a firm suck he asks, “You want my happiness and peace of mind as much as you want your own?”
To my surprise I whisper, “Yes.”
With a gentle tug on the nape of my neck for our eyes to meet, he states, “That's love, baby.”
Feels like he's over simplifying it. There's gotta be more to love than that. If it was simple everyone would be in love. If it was that simple people wouldn't break up constantly and the divorce rate in this country would be slightly lower. If it were that simple...I wouldn't feel scared. Fuck. The only thing that scares me more is the thought of him leaving me. I don't wanna lose him. I wanna be with him. I....shit....
His lips feather mine and the breath I was holding escapes. “Tell me.”
My heart conspires to betray me with my own lips. Arik's fingers slip under the t-shirt and brush against my clit. Instantly my hips rock forward in hopes of being fed more of his touch.
Acting this horny is how I stumbled into love in the first place. Wait. Shit!
The moment he slides two fingers inside me, I toss my head back and cry out, “Yes.”
Greedily I move faster, encouraging him to take me fast and rough, the way he usually does. Arik uses his free hand to guide my body to the speed he wants. His movements are slow. Precise. Exact. Each action is filled with more passion than the previous one. All of a sudden my entire body begins to shake on the brink of coming sooner than expected.
“I'm gonna co...” is all that escapes before he removes his fingers.
What the fuck just happened?
Baffled at his action, I bite, “What-”
“No,” he denies in a tone drenched with so much heat I feel like I could come from it alone. “Tell me.”
Groaning, I complain, “This is torture.”
“So is waiting to hear what I already know.”
“If you already know then why should I say it?”
“So that you know it too.”
Arik's green eyes smother out any opposition.
Why does it feel like my mouth is the last part to catch up to this? I've done the one thing I didn't wanna do. I've fallen head over heels for this guy. Tell me this gets less terrifying or least tell me I get used to it.
His hand softly strokes my outer thigh. “Baby...”
In a whisper, I confess, “I do. I do love you, Arik.”
He smirks brightly. “You're so fucking stubborn.”
In a playful sneer I say, “You fucking love it.”
“I fucking love everything about you.”
Carefully Arik lifts me off him just enough to shed his shorts. On instinct my legs wrap around him, the anticipation of his dick unusually painful. The crown of his cock nudges at my opening only briefly before the obvious hits me.
“Condom,” I croak.
With a simple shake of his head he states, “No.”
“Is that your new favorite word?”
He chuckles lightly and relief to hear the beautiful sound floods me.
Huh. Definitely has to be love.
“I'm clean. Got tested earlier this week. Results are on the coffee table.” He doesn't wait for further objections or reasons why
he shouldn't take me freely. On one sharp thrust his cock is covered in my scorching heat. An unfamiliar barbaric groan rips through him. “Fuckin' A, Ari.”
Swept away by the europhic feeling myself, I somehow manage to agree with the blunt statement, “Yes...”