I fuck her in the shower, then on the bathroom counter, the floor just inside the bedroom, again on the bed, the couch and the kitchen, you get the picture. Every time I was inside her, it was like I was hoping for a connection…and I’ll keep fucking her until she wants that connection too.
5
Emily
I can lie and say that Smokey had zero effect on me, that what we did was just sex…but then I’d be a big fat liar. The first time he talked to me, outside of the casino, he already had a pull on me. I could just tell he was up to something, something I couldn’t put my finger on exactly. He reminded me of my goddamn dad, and why, I also couldn’t put my finger on exactly. But there was something else, Smokey was sexy and playful, all the things I can be but have little time for. I always keep people at a distance, it helps when they up and desert me. So even though he was hot, I stuck to my guns.
The second time he came around after I told him to fuck off, I was shocked. My heart did a little jig in my chest and I did everything I could to make it stop. But his twinkling eyes, his perfect smile, his imperfect flat nose, his messy hair, I was a goner. There was no way I was going to sacrifice my heart with this guy, but I wanted him, and sex was all I could give him. One night, that’s it. I could give one night to being young, single and sexy. He made me feel sexy, and that made me turned on. When he carried me to the hotel because my feet were absolutely killing me, and he noticed that, call the police because my heart had just been stolen. I was even more surprised when he took my heels off and began rubbing my feet. When his hands slid up my thighs and his eyes closed, he looked so fucking sexy. It was like he was having the same reaction I was to him touching me. I haven’t been with a man in almost a year, and even any time before then, I never had a more sensual experience before. I couldn’t wait to have sex with this man.
But we didn’t have sex, I fell asleep on him, after I told him basically my life story. Too close, I thought as I spilled my family history, so in an effort to remain even, I asked about his life. Telling me about his mom made my eyes well up, how he spoke of her with such love and heart ache, God he was so easy to feel for.
When I split for work, and he invited me to come back after, my heart did a back handspring because even though I vowed to myself one night, I knew he was too tempting. My entire first shift at my day job, he was on my mind. Wondering what he was doing, thinking about his cock as he peed right in front of me, who does that? Any other guy, I think I would’ve been offended, but not with him. He said he was small, but clearly that was not the case. I also noticed he was wearing briefs, a sight not seen often anymore. What Smokey was packing under his jeans was all I thought about. Well hell, he was all I could think about. His Cheshire Cat grin, his playful tone, he was so easy going, but when he looked at me I could tell he was determined. It felt good to be lusted after, to be looked at as a woman. He was so feely and oozed sexuality, all I could fantasize was his mouth on my chest, between my legs, thoughts that had me splashing cold water on my face multiple times that day.
By the time I got off work and made my way up to the hotel room, I was wet and tense and beyond ready, R. Kelly’s “Bump n’ Grind” on repeat in my head. I had no intention of just getting on my knees and blowing him, but when I opened the door and saw him in the kitchen, something ignited in me and I couldn’t resist anymore. The surprise in his eyes spoke to something so deep inside me I can’t even describe it. Even when he looked down at me, his cock at my lips, his hands in my hair, it was all too much. I could feel myself coming dangerously too close to wanting more than tonight with this guy, if I let myself. I blew him like my life depended on it, and I couldn’t get enough. I didn’t care that my tits are droopy, I pulled my shirt down and exposed myself and his cock literally throbbed as he took them in.
When I sent him to the living room, I stripped my clothes off after taking out the lasagna. He cooked for us, sigh. Ignoring my observation of my dimply thighs and my little tummy, I let my vagina lead the way and turned the corner of the kitchen and toward him. Smokey’s expression was like one of those cartoons when the character’s eyes bug out of their head and tongue roll out to the floor. His reaction to me caused my feminine pride to plume her feathers and flaunt that shit. I was uninhibited, letting my body take over. I didn’t have to worry about what he thought about my body in this position or that, he obviously liked it and told me as much. But there was more to it than that, the way he looked in my eyes and touched my face, it was again too much. Too close, too fucking close Emily. I was falling too fast and stupidly. Just because the guy likes me for sex doesn’t mean anything. But he didn’t force sex with me, or push, or initiate, even after fingering me he ordered us dinner the first night. My emotions were fucking with me, and I kept seeking a way to distance myself. Closing my eyes when he was inside me, not cuddling, hurrying to the shower. But he followed, fucking me in every room. It could be in my head, but it was almost like he was trying to get me to let my wall down, but he couldn’t possibly know my wall was as secure as Fort Knox.
As much as it hurt me to leave because I knew I’d never see him again, flight instinct had me rushing for the door as the morning came just the same. I made it to the elevator before the first moronic tear spilled down my cheek, and I cursed my lonely abandoned child heart for not growing up and not just allowing myself to have a sliver of a good time without being heartbroken afterward. But that wasn’t true. I’ve only ever had one night-stands or sexual relationships and I’ve never had this reaction. Maybe it was best that we never saw each other again because this was bad…I had it bad for Smokey.
My days and nights were filled with thinking of him, dreaming up scenarios. Coming home from work or school to his car in the driveway, him in the shower, bending me over in the kitchen as we made dinner. Even the mundane, grocery shopping together, cleaning the house, doing laundry. I felt so alone since we’ve parted, which makes me feel so dumb, I’ve always been alone my whole life and yet I’ve never felt this abandoned. I crave his touch, his smile, his voice. The heaviness in my chest is my companion, the only thing I have left of him. I wonder if there’s any way I could look him up somehow, but I don’t know his real name. He knows where I am, yet it’s been three weeks since we were together and I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. My focus has always been school and working to pay for school and bills, but that’s not been my drive as of late.
Then the morning of my twenty-second birthday, I wake up and tell myself to get over him, he’s not coming back and I recite my ten-year life plan aloud as I lay in bed. I recite it all day, over and over in my head, and it does lessen the thoughts of him a little…but then, at the casino later that night…he’s there.
6
Smokey
It’s been three weeks since I saw Emily. Of course, once the weekend ended, she casually gathered her shit and spewed out how we should get together again sometime and thanks for a fun time before fumbling with the door knob and backing out the door.
My mind has been on nothing but Emily. What she might be doing at any moment, if she's at school or which job, if she's in bed with another man in a hotel room somewhere. My mind sometimes is my worst enemy, and the only thing I can do to stop that last thought is tequila, and a lot of it.
I've resisted using Chilly in finding her or getting her phone number, but three weeks and my restraint is spreading thin. But I have the perfect excuse to go to Vegas and see her. Because clearly Emily’s anti-biker, I ask Sven if I can borrow a car from the used car lot. Having free reign at a car lot, I naturally pick a red Ferrari. On my way to Vegas I call and make a reservation for the weekend at the same hotel we stayed in before. Again, with my mind being an asshole sometimes, as I get excited about surprising her, it counters with maybe she won’t want to see me, or maybe she has a boyfriend now. The thoughts have me pressing my foot on the gas and trying to distract myself with music.
I park in the underground lot of the hotel we’re staying
in, and check in before walking to the casino Emily works at. My eyes dart to all the dealers in the high rollers section, my heart pounding with just now wondering if she’s even working, when I see her. Her hairs in a ponytail and she’s painted her nails red, her lipstick matching the shade. A lungful of air escapes me in rush, letting go of the worry that I’ve been feeling for three weeks now. She’s so beautiful, and I stand by the bar for a few minutes just watching her. It’s when the bartender asks me if I want a drink, that I’m snapped back into reality. Shaking my head, I walk over and the guy at the rope must remember me from last time because he unclips it from the pole as I approach and I give him a nod in thanks.
I don’t bother cashing in money for chips because I don’t want to play, but I want her to know I’m here. My eyes trained on her as I approach her table and I stand beside a woman in a small sequin dress who’s standing amongst the other on-lookers. Out of the corner of my eye I see her glance at me when I come up to the side of the table, then again but this time for longer. My eyes remain on Emily as the chick turns to face me.
“Hey,” she purrs, “you gonna play? I can be your good luck charm,” she says, putting a hand on my leather clad bicep.
“No,” I reply without looking at her.
Just that simple word has Emily’s head swinging over toward me, shock on her face, like my voice confirmed I was really here or something. I give her a small smile and take a deep breath, not sure what her reaction will be to me being here. She just blinks at me, almost embarrassed. Before she can tell me to leave or something, I tilt my head toward the break room and begin to walk toward it. Heading through the doors and to the exit, resting against the brick wall while I wait. My head is telling me she doesn’t want me here, that I should leave, she’s not coming. Then, the door clicks open and I turn my head to watch her walking toward me in her skin tight black skirt, her hips swaying as she approaches.
“What are you doing here?” she asks as she crosses her arms under her big tits.
“It’s your birthday,” I state.
Her mouth opens as she blinks and furrows her forehead, “And you know that becaaauuse?” she asks with raised brows.
“I looked at your license.”
“When?” she asks, her brows pinching together again.
“You were in the bathroom taking a piss or something, I don’t remember-”
“So, you went into my purse, took out my wallet and looked at my license?” she asks in a displeased tone.
“I don’t remember if I followed those steps exactly, but yes, something like that.”
“What is wrong with you?”
I give her a look like that list might take a while to go over.
“Anyway, it’s your birthday and I want to take you out,” I say.
“Take me out?” she repeats.
“Yes, like we go somewhere and I pay for shit, take you out,” I nod, “I can wait ‘til you’re off work, or tomorrow even, I have the suite for the weekend.”
She inhales and looks away from me, then down at her feet, then back up at me.
“I thought last time, that we agreed to just sex,” she finally says.
“We can just have sex this time too, if that’s what you want,” I say, stepping closer. “But, I’ve been thinking about you for three weeks, only you and wanting to take you out-”
“I took an earlier shift to cover someone, so I only have to work another half hour,” she says cutting me off.
I give her a smile and she blinks up at me, and I can see she’s unsure of whether this is the right thing to do, and I don’t know why she’s thinking that way.
“Okay,” I say softly, leaning in and kissing the side of her mouth.
“I have a change of clothes with me,” she adds.
“Okay,” I reply with another kiss to the other side of her mouth.
“Okay,” she breathes out, fluttering her eyelashes and placing a hand on my chest.
“I’ll be at the bar waiting,” I say, taking a step back.
She inhales and steps back too, looking up at me and smiling before shaking her head and heading back for the door.
I don’t drink while I wait for her, unsure as to what she might want to do and whether that would require me to drive or not. A half hour feels like days when she finally comes to sit beside me at the bar. Looking over I take in her white V-neck shirt, it’s skin tight and showing cleavage that has my dick twitching. She’s also incased in skin tight jeans and high-heel sandals that show off her little red toenails.
“Fuck,” I mumble and adjust my dick in my jeans not so discreetly.
“What?” she asks with a laugh as she watches me.
“You, wearing that shit, you must’ve known I was going to visit,” I say, waving over the bartender because now I do need a drink.
“It’s just a shirt and jeans,” she says confused.
“Emily,” I state, looking over at her. “When you finally realize how fucking hot your body is, you’ll understand this is not just a shirt and jeans…it’s like a candy wrapper, I know what’s underneath, and what’s inside…tequila,” I pause talking to her to order, “you?” I ask her.
“Two tequila’s,” she nods at the bartender. “You were saying,” she says looking back at me.
“What was I saying?” I tease, narrowing my eyes in thought.
“About my clothes being a candy wrapper,” her eyes darting to my mouth.
“Oh right,” I inhale, my hand moving to her leg, my fingers sliding down to her inner thigh. “That underneath this is the most delicious, sweet, fucking best tasting candy I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
Her breath hitches as my hand moves up her thigh, my pinky grazing along the seam of her jeans and against the warm fabric encasing her cunt.
“That your cum tastes like ice cream and melts on my tongue…and cock…and fingers.”
Her body shivers as she leans toward me, her lips so close to mine and I wonder if she’s actually going to kiss me.
“Two tequila’s,” the bartender says and she pulls back.
I blink and look over at the bartender wanting to strangle him, but instead I reach out for my shot glass.
“Happy birthday,” I tell Emily, raising my drink as she does the same and we clink the glasses together.
We start doing tequila shots, one after the other, sucking lemon and licking hands for salt.
“It’s not fair,” she says after our fifth or so shot. “You know my age, my middle name, I don’t know anything about you.”
Running a hand over my mouth and smiling, I look over at her, “My name’s Samuel Patrick Ramirez, I’m twenty-seven-”
“Twenty-seven, Jeeeesus you’re old,” she states.
With a growl I move toward her and she yelps, my hands move to her sides where I squeeze and my teeth nip at her neck.
“Let’s go somewhere,” she says through her giggling.
“Anywhere,” I tell her.
“I want to do something crazy,” she adds.
“In that case, of course I do too.”
Looking up at me, she smiles wide and says, “Let’s get married.”
Everything inside me stops, my brain, my lungs, my heart.
“Married?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” she shrugs a shoulder, her voice casual.
“Married?” I repeat, more to myself.
After a moment she amends. “We don’t have to,” looking a little deflated.
“No, let’s do it,” I say quickly, looking over at her.
“Yeah?” she asks with hopeful eyes.
“I mean, I know you’re drunk and will probably regret it in the morning…”
“Probably,” she nods.
I’m not drunk, not even a little. So when she says we can go to the drive-thru chapel on The Strip and it’s close by, I jump off my barstool and pick her up, throwing her over my shoulder as I walk us out of the casino. Everyone’s looking at us, and I don’t care. I’ve never felt
this before, this level of happy. I know she’ll regret this, and I should tell her no, but it’s like this way she’s tied to me. I know, what an asshole. But I am an asshole, so. We arrive at the chapel and its lit up like a neon disco party and pull behind two cars ahead of us.
"Shoot!" Emily says and for a moment my heart stops because she’s about to tell me she can’t do this. "We don't have any rings.”
She looks so worried over this and everything in me just wants to make it better. Leaning over I kiss her forehead and reach down to the glove box, I’d stopped for coffee on my trip and tucked the napkins and small straws inside. Grabbing them I begin crafting the little flimsy straw into a ring. When I present it to her she smiles and nods her head. The Vegas lights illuminate her face, and I've never seen anything so goddamn pretty before. My breath hitches and a weird thickness happens in my throat, making it hard to swallow.
"What?" she asks.
"You're really pretty," as soon as the words come out I realize how stupid it sounds.
I wait for her to question 'pretty? Not beautiful?'
But her cheeks blush and she gives me a soft smile, a hint of a fucking adorable dimple appearing in her left cheek as she looks down for a moment before blinking back at me.
"Thank you."
I understand that phrase ‘takes my breath away’ at this moment. I do feel light headed, a little high from how her just being beside me causes my body to react. Soon, we’re up at the window and my hearts beating so fast I feel like I might be having a heart attack. I’m so nervous she’s going to say she’s changed her mind as I put the car in park, and I feel like we need to rush before she can truly voice the doubts. Of course there’s an Elvis impersonator at the window which calms my nerves for the moment. He asks for our licenses and we both hand them over, and I don’t look at her, again too nervous to see her face and if she’s scared. When he hands us back our I.D’s I tuck mine in my wallet and then grab the cash for the ceremony. As we wait for him to print the paperwork and start the proceedings, Emily’s small hand rests on my forearm and I finally turn to look at her.
Too Close: Plantain Series Novella Page 4