Fragments (Running On Empty Book 1)
Page 22
Trin passes me my clutch and smiles back. “Oh, he will all right. Brace yourself.”
While walking over to my door and opening it, she calls, “Ready!” and walks out.
I take a few tentative steps and pull my shoulders back. I can do this. What if he thinks I look terrible? Ugh. Why do I care? Telling myself to get my shit together, I walk out of the room and head to the lounge to where I can hear the others’ voices.
“Ready guys, sorry to keep— ” I stop. All eyes are on me. “What?” I snap.
Trin is smiling like a Cheshire cat while the boys just stare at me. I follow their gazes that travel from my toes up my legs and land on my breasts and then my face. Their eyes follow this trail up and down a few times without saying a word.
“Ah, hello? Can we go now?” I know what they’re seeing. I’m wearing my silver leather ankle-strapped stilettos that are really tall, and highlight my French pedicure. As their gaze travels up my leg, they reach my mid-thigh to an A-line bright blue skirt leading up to the tip of the sexy deep V plunging neckline covered in transparent mesh to my shoulders. Three-quarter length tight sleeves adorn my arms. From the front, the plunging mesh neckline shows the curve of my breasts, while they are securely taped into the sides of the triangle from my neckline. If anyone queries whether I have boobs or not, this dress shows that I do, and that they are of a sizeable nature. My hair is curled, parted to the side, and across my right shoulder. I had gone soft on my make-up colouring, hard on the eyeliner, with a gentle lip-gloss to give myself a flirty look. As my dress is quite revealing and playful, I didn’t want to go overboard. I feel my black dangly earrings tickle the sides of my face as I stand there. Turning, I start heading to the front door when I hear a muttered,
“Oh, fuck,” from Alex’s mouth. Yes, my front V has a matching back V. What probably shocks him the most is my tattoo of, l’amor che move il sole e le altre stelle written across the back of my shoulder blades in soft cursive script.
“Um, Bea?” Alex stammers. “Are you sure you want to wear that dress? It’s not that dressy at the bar. Just jeans would do.”
Trinity snickers as I look over my shoulder at him.
“No, I’m fine,” I say, while grabbing the door handle.
“But it’s pretty revealing and—”
I turn and cut Alex off with a wave of my hand. Looking down at my chest, I deliberately put my hands to my breasts and say, “It’s all good. These puppies are very secure. I’ll be fine.”
“Ohh,” Trinity squeals, breaking the shocked look from Alex’s face.
“You’re both wearing bright blue! Twinsies!”
Looking up from my breasts, I see she’s right. Alex is wearing a bright blue fitted shirt that showcases his broad and muscular chest, and black jeans that fit him perfectly. Ty, on the other hand, wears a deep-red shirt and dark blue jeans. Both guys look great, but we are clearly more dressed up than them. That is fine by me; we aren’t going to hang out past dinner anyway. We have a dance floor to get to.
Alex grunts at Trinity’s comment and continues to look at me like I have grown a second head. My heart sinks as I wanted him to want me.
“Well, don’t come crying to me when the sleazy guys are all over you. You chose to wear that.”
My mouth flies open as I gasp. Narrowing my eyes at him, I sneer, “Fuck off Alex!” as I walk out. Fuck him. Fuck him very much.
By the time we arrive at the bar, neither Alex nor I are speaking to each other. I am pissy at his comment, and he is pissy about my dress. Whatever.
Our dinner is spent in mostly silence, except for the playful banter between Trinity and Ty. While they fill the void in conversation, Alex looks anywhere but at me. But I glare at him. Coward.
Once dinner is over, Trin takes my hand and announces, “We’re off to the bar to have some drinks and meet guys.” Looking directly at Alex, she continues, “I’d say it was a pleasure but as always, Captain Arsehole stopped that.”
Squeezing my hand, we stroll to the bar to get our drink on.
“It’s mojito time,” I declare in her ear. “I want a fishbowl that is filled with just a mojito.” She nods quickly, replying, “On it,” and climbs onto a bar stool. Luckily for us, there are two free. I opt to stand, though, as I don’t trust my boobs to behave while sitting on a stool. The last thing I need is a “told you so” from Alex. They have survived dinner—now they just have to continue behaving.
Soon, the music of the bar makes my hips swing in time with the beats. Trinity sips the last portion of her cocktail and grabs my hand. “Okay, Twinkie, let’s start grooving. I have spotted a few guys that need to spot me.”
She weaves us through the crowd, and we arrive at the dance floor. Straight away, my arms fly up to the sound of Dave Guetta’s “Titanium”. I don’t like poppy, annoying songs, but a decent dance number, I adore. I twist my arms above my head as I stare down, while swaying my hips. The music carries to the fibres of my being, as each beat trickles down my spine and releases the tension that I feel. Nearby, Trinity sways and occasionally sings along to the lyrics. We both resonate with the music. I feel grounded and alive. As the night continues, we dance wholeheartedly while occasionally a guy or two approaches us.
Looking towards the bar, my eyes find Ty standing there and my gaze moves across, slamming into Alex, who is staring at me with a grim look on his face. I continue to sway my hips without losing eye contact. I feel more in my element than ever before. He grips his beer bottle and before I can decipher his reaction, a very tall, tight clothes-wearing blond girl approaches him. Ashamed of how wantonly I was dancing towards him, I turn and face Trinity, giving him my back.
While distracting myself in the next song, a strong hand grazes my right hip; I look over towards it and am surprised to see standing there is Leon. Wearing dark jeans and a short-sleeved black muscle tee, he looks edible. He smiles once I meet his gaze, and then his eyes travel down my body while his lips pull into a hiss, the edge of his right eye crinkling. I have definitely made an impression also. I give him a full smile and extend our dance area a little to accommodate him. Before I can introduce him to Trin, she steps closer to a dark-haired guy who is near her and grabs his hand to lead him away. Leon and I are left there staring at each other. Before my nerves set in, he reaches for my hip and draws me closer.
“Trice, you look …” He bites his lip and looking down at me, he raises his eyebrows, and in a husky voice and says, “ravishing.”
I tip my head up and grin. “So, you like my outfit, huh?”
His smiles again as he pulls me in closer and wraps his arms around my waist. My arms loop around his neck as he looks down on me. “You have no idea.”
I look over his shoulder for a moment and see Alex staring angrily back at me while the girl paws all over him.
Gazing back up to Leon, I smile and continue to dance closely with him, swaying my hips gently to the beats of Rihanna. Gazing back over his shoulder, I’m confronted with Alex’s vacant seat. Out of the corner of my eye, I sense a familiar shoulder span and look to the side to see the bimbo strutting in her heels, dragging Alex out the door. My chest constricts with jealousy, but I don’t move to stop him. We are not meant to be.
I look back up at Leon and see his gaze move from my eyes to my lips. Pain that I haven’t felt in years threatens to leak out of my pores, but I breathe in deeply to stop it. Will I never get over Alex? Gazing into Leon’s eyes, and seeing someone who is lusting so deeply for me right now, I grab the back of his neck and push his lips closer to mine. There is only one way to find out.
Chapter Eighteen
“Black Hole Sun”
Soundgarden
Alex
“You need these, man. If you keep staring at her, you’ll explode.”
Ty is right. As I sit by the bar, shooting back JD and chasing it with beer, my eyes are transfixed on Bea and the movement of her hips on the dance floor. Every sway calls to my groin. She looks like a siren and I want her so badly. The
trouble is that so does every other fucker in the bar. I wish she’d worn a T-shirt or something …
The possessive need to protect what’s mine runs rampant under my skin. She looks relaxed and carefree under those lights and I just want those hands of hers on my skin.
Shot after shot I chase down, trying to block her, but my traitorous eyes catapult back. Staring at her hands travelling up and down, I will her to think of me. To want me like I want her. My thoughts seem to have worked as she opens her eyes, looks directly in our direction, and abruptly clashes with my gaze. I can’t look away, and the pain that I feel for wanting something so out of reach makes my face hurt with trepidation. I don’t want her to see the lust in my eyes, but a horse and chariot couldn’t drag me away.
Go to her, my thoughts push at me. Go and claim her. I want to run over to her and kiss those pouty lips and feel her breasts against me, while I squeeze her closer. I long to touch her again and swallow her desire-filled moans. On the brink of finally going to claim her, my vision is blocked as a past one-night stand is in front of me, covered in body shimmer and a tight dress.
Before I can move to the side, Mindi grabs me and whispers in my ear, “I’m going to suck you, while I play with myself.”
My body tightens as I try to squeeze her arm off me. Looking over to the dance floor, Bea is standing close—too close to a familiar looking guy. As he turns slightly, I see that it’s Leon. My mechanic. Jealously begins to burn through my throat. I’d like nothing better than to pummel his face into the ground for being so close. My nostrils flair as he steps closer to her. Bea suddenly looks up and pierces my gaze with hers. I glare. Step away from that fucker. You’re mine. She stares back briefly before gazing up to Leon and smiling. Fuck it. Why am I even bothering? I screwed up, and like my dad said, I’m a piece of shit.
My thoughts get more aggressive as each drink begins to build and build into my system. Well, I came here to block her out. Fuck her. Go hard or go home.
I stand and Mindi squeals, tightening her grip on my arm. She leads me to the entrance. Time to forget Bea for a while.
* * * * *
My face pinches as I wake up. Man, what is that taste in my mouth? I feel like I have eaten my own arse. Running my tongue over my teeth, it doesn’t get any better. My eyes sting as I carefully start to open them and see to my side the mop of blond tangled hair lying next to me. What in the hell? I look down and notice the blonde is naked and has her arm sprawled across me.
Sitting up slowly, I feel a sudden case of guilt. Mindi. I’ve been here with this girl before. Flickers of last night start replaying in my mind. This girl pushing me into the taxi, my pants being unbuttoned while she kissed down my chest and then began to suck my cock. Her drunken, savage hands all over me while I ignited, eager to block out Bea. Our bodies falling out of the cab … stumbling into the apartment … Clothes torn off as we got to my room where she lay on the bed, and I stroked her before fucking her doggie style. The taste of bile congealed in my throat as she then turned, pushed me down and rode me. I can’t think past that, as I presume we passed out …
My neck is sore, my shoulder is sore, and my head has a mariachi band in there playing Justin Bieber. FUCK! I need Panadol, and I need it now. I also need her to leave.
As I climb out of bed, I grab my jeans from the floor and drag them on. I am going to kill Ty the next time I see him for forcing me to do shots.
I grunt as I remember more sordid details. The distraction of an easy lay didn’t help. In fact, it has increased my guilt tenfold. Maybe I have a chance at fixing things, if I can just get Mindi out before Bea wakes …
I’m about to wake her when my arms bristle at a distant giggle. Standing still, I listen intently and hear a faint giggle again, followed by, “Stop it!” and then more giggling. Oh God. She’s brought that fucker home. My chest feels cold and my throat tightens. By bringing Mindi home, I have inadvertently pushed Bea into the arms of Leon when it should have been me. All because I couldn’t handle her looking hot in that blue dress. Idiot.
I grab the extra clothes and head to the shower to block out the sounds next door and wash off my mistake. Man, I am an absolute tool. Why did I need to bring her home? It shouldn’t have happened in front of Bea.
I turn the shower on hot and grit my teeth as I feel my skin redden. It’s not enough to burn away the stench, or the glitter she covered me in. Why do girls insist on putting a fucking disco ball on their skin, and then lie all over you? It gets everywhere and it takes forever to leave. It’s like a shiny, happy parasite, but I’m not amused.
My head throbs still, and I’m scrubbing my face and washing my hair while I replay Bea’s dancing last night. I can’t stop the groan that escapes my lips. I’m instantly hard and I can’t get her eyes, her hips, her lips out of my mind.
This is what I get for making a monumental mistake. I’m harder with that image than I was
with Mindi. With one turn, I could cut the shower door in half. Without too much thought, my hand begins to stroke up and down, gripping the base as I surrender to the sensations. I see her eyes, and my grip tightens. I see myself walking over to her, standing in front of her, looking down and running my fingers along the deep V that has her breasts encased. My breath hitches as my strokes increase, gripping and sliding up and down. I know what lies under that dress and I want to lick it and claim every inch until we are no longer separate entities. Before my fantasy goes any further, I feel my balls tighten from my strokes and I open my eyes and hiss, staring down, watching my orgasm coarse through me. I put my other fist in my mouth to muffle the moan. I lean my head against the shower wall and let the water cascade down, washing the remnants of my guilty thoughts away.
Once I recover, I turn the shower taps off and step out to dry myself. Normally I would dress in my room, but I can’t risk either girl thinking that I am interested in another round. I get ready quickly and throw my other gear in the hamper.
Opening the door, I hear voices out the front and see Bea saying bye to Leon. She stands by the door while he is out on the doorstep. They don’t seem too intimate, but who knows?
I try not to look at Leon. I know that if he gives me a smug look that I will rearrange his face. Bea catches my movement and turns to me in that sexy-as-hell green nightie. Yep. Karma is a bitch, and she is laughing while cattle prodding my balls.
Bea mutters a quick, “Morning,” and continues talking to dickface.
I head to the kitchen to put on the coffee pot. I don’t want to go back into my room. As the coffee boils, I put a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster. My stomach isn’t up to a full breakfast. As I’m throwing back the painkillers, I hear footsteps approaching.
In a soft voice she says, “Is there enough coffee in that percolator, or should I put on another one?”
Well, at least she is talking to me again.
“Definitely. I am using the big one.”
The whistle of the coffee surging up gives me something to do so I cannot be tempted to look at her. I won’t be able to handle the freshly-screwed face; it will only make me hurt more. The toast springs up, and I butter it quickly.
“Alex.” She taps my shoulder, and I turn around. Her hair is mussed but her face is normal. “You, um … want to go for a run?”
I am momentarily speechless. She is still staring at me when I remember to answer. “Yeah, when?”
She opens her mouth to answer when I hear very loud giggling coming from my bedroom as the door opens.
“Alex, how did my G-string end up on the ceiling fan? Man, you fuck like an animal.”
I cringe at Mindi’s words. I look over to Bea, who now has a coffee cup in her hand.
“I’m just gonna take this to my room.”
Before I can stop her, she power walks away, narrowly missing colliding with the skank. Mindi shrugs as if it’s no big deal and her eyes light up when she sees me.
“Alex …” croons Mindi. “I woke up alone without you.”
Staring at this annoyance, I start to get her into gear. “Mindi, I have to head out, so if you can leave now, I’d really appreciate it.”
This time, she pipes up with, “What the hell? No encore? This is bullshit, Alex.”
I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow. “The answer’s no. If you want a shower, by all means there are towels in the linen cabinet over there, but for now, whatever gets you out quicker would be appreciated.”
She stands there with smeared make-up and tornado hair, her hands on her hips and her mouth agape. I point to the bathroom and take my coffee cup and plate of toast and head to the lounge room, hoping that she will take the hint. After calling me a few “choice” words, she heads to the shower. Not too long after, she emerges in the lounge room, glaring at me.
“So, last night was just another one-nighter? So you’re gonna treat me like a whore again?” Mindi snaps. Oh, is that what this is? I put my coffee cup down and glare at her.
“See, Mindi, here’s the thing. You approached me and you whispered sordid shit into my ear.
Not only was I drunk, I was very drunk. Do not play the victim card here when, A) it was consensual, and B) you blew me in the cab in the first minute.”
She gasps and death stares at me.
“Fuck you, Alex!” she hisses and turns, stomping out my front door.
I heave a sigh of relief that is only momentarily soothing, until I remember that Bea is in her room and probably heard that conversation. Yep, I’m a dick.
Huffing out my frustrations, I head to her door and knock.