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Bait Page 19

by M. Mabie


  “Yeah, yeah. Sure. Have fun. Be careful. I love you.”

  Before I could say it back, I turned my body away from two prying eyes and replied, “I love you, too. See you tomorrow.” I disconnected the call and headed for the ladies room. I needed a minute.

  If flying from one part of the world to another, across time zones and datelines, gave one jet-lag, then what was it called when one’s heart traveled from one man to another and then back in mere minutes?

  I'd love to know.

  We went to a club named Taboo. Melanie had been there before. It was a little comforting having at least one person who knew their way around. If the name had anything to do with the atmosphere, I had a suspicion I was in for a real experience.

  We stood in line outside for a while, but it was a beautiful, albeit humid, October southern night. There was a breeze that washed past every now and then. It was refreshing.

  Troy and Melanie hit it off great. Although, I wasn't really getting a flirty kind of vibe from them. It was more of a kindred spirits thing.

  They talked about his job at Tinnitus and how she'd dated a few musicians. They even knew a few of the same people back in their hometown. I saw them exchange numbers earlier and I thought it was kind of cool.

  “So how do you guys know each other?” Melanie asked as we got closer to the club’s roped off doors.

  Casey spoke first, “Her best friend from college is in a relationship with my brother.” The answer was true. Half true. He neglected to add the part about where we had a few one-night stands, communicate almost daily, and we fucked on my hotel floor the night before. But who was really paying that close of attention?

  I still had a sour feeling in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't quite call it guilt, because I couldn't truthfully admit—even to myself—that I regretted being with Casey. Whatever it was, it made me feel anxious. All I wanted to do was get another drink and lose myself on the dance floor with him.

  Casey hadn't touched me since Troy and Melanie showed up in the lounge and I was eager to feel his hands on my skin, even though it was risky. But I wasn’t worried about Melanie. She was a love-the-one-you’re-with kind of girl and my desire made me reckless.

  Taboo was precisely that. A variety of people were inside the club, and for club hours we were pretty early. Having had a few more drinks at the hotel, it was only a little after ten when we finally gained admittance.

  They played house music and the layout was totally bizarre. When first we walked in, there was a glass wall separating us from a dance floor that was elevated about waist high. Upon looking up, through steel beams, I could see the underside of a glass second floor where people had started to dance as well. Strobe and ultraviolet lighting made everything look aggressive and otherworldly.

  Melanie and I decided to find a table while the guys got our drinks. We selected a secluded spot in the back where you could see both dance floors and we didn't have to scream to talk.

  “So what's the real story with you and Casey?” Melanie asked as soon as we were seated on a circular white couch with a small coffee height, glass table, which glowed bright red from within.

  “I don't know what you’re asking me? His twin brother and Micah are dating. You remember me talking about her, right? I met Casey when I was in San Francisco for her graduation last spring.” I answered as casually as I could manage.

  If one tells a half-truth at nine o'clock and another at ten thirty, do they cancel each other out? Or make one complete true story? Even I wasn't believing my liar's logic.

  I was thankful that Casey and Troy were walking toward us just then, with two shots and two beers apiece.

  “Good spot, ladies. Let's have some fun,” Troy said as he placed his handful of drinks on the low table and came to sit by me. It felt strange, but I pretended like it was no big deal. All the while, my skin was screaming for Casey.

  “Should we toast?” asked Melanie over the thumping music. Then, answering her own question, she lifted one of the clear shots above her head. We all followed suit and soon there were four arms stretched upward, toward the center of the seating area.

  “We'll all make one,” she instructed. “I'll go first. Here's to meeting new friends and replacing the shitty ones.”

  “Here's to finding someone to lay on top of me later,” Troy said and we all laughed.

  “Here's to brave men who wear red pants,” I said, because I couldn't think of anything good.

  We all looked at Casey and he smiled weakly, “Here's to the bait.”

  His eyes were fixed on mine and then he raised his shot a little higher signaling for everyone to drink. It was tequila. No lime. No salt. And consequently, no feeling left in my throat. It was like fire all the way down into my stomach.

  “I'm going to hit the ladies room and then I'm going to dance upstairs. Meet back here in a while?” asked Melanie and we all nodded our agreement.

  When she left I sat in my seat next to Troy feeling two things. Casey's eyes burning through me and the liquor burning through my already murky judgment. I wanted him, but didn’t know what to do or say.

  Then Troy asked me, “Do you like to dance, Blake?” A smile crept from east to west across his cleanly shaved face. My gut reaction was to look at Casey and gauge his reaction to this, but I focused my eyes on the beer in front of me. I leaned forward to grasp it just as Troy slipped an arm around the back of my seat.

  “She isn't dancing with you, man,” said Casey from across the table.

  “She's not? How about you let her make up her own mind, man.”

  “She's mine, Troy,” said Casey a little louder than necessary. I presume it was the alcohol making him so quick tempered. I wasn't looking forward to a repeat of last night. Or maybe I was.

  “She is?” I didn't know what had gotten into Troy. He hadn't behaved like this earlier or last night. He'd only been fun and, more often than not, a source of comic relief.

  “She is tonight,” Casey deadpanned.

  His sudden claim to me made me feel hot and also a little nervous. But before the situation could escalate, I moved around the circular seat to him and extended my arm.

  “I want to dance with you,” was all I needed to say. What I'd said was one-hundred percent true. Apparently, I was capable of honesty. Sometimes.

  He didn't hesitate, and even gave me a Casey smile, as he walked me to the lower dance floor. When he found a place that suited him, he turned to face me, still holding my little hand in his big one.

  “What was that about?” I asked as our bodies cinched together.

  “Don't worry about it. He's being a...a Troy.” His lack of a better word made me giggle a little and could feel some of the tension roll off his body. My hands snaked up around his shoulder and he brought one of his around low on my waist. The other hung fluidly at his side.

  “I liked your toast,” I told him.

  He leaned and looked down at me so that we could talk face to face over the lyric-less music. He started moving us to a hypnotic beat and said, “I thought you would.”

  My hand, on its own accord, rose into his hair, my heels giving me an advantage I didn't usually have. I splayed my fingers wide and clutched him.

  Then I kissed him.

  I couldn't hear his moan, but I felt it. Through his shirt, which was already beginning to cling from sweat, and through mine, which was doing the same, I felt his chest vibrate with a low rumble. His tongue teased at my lips and I opened my mouth without thought or concern. The one hand around my waist soon became two.

  We grinded against each other for what felt like hours. Song after song we moved our bodies together like we shared a person. I thought back to the first night we danced and how it felt just like that.

  Real. Hot. Genuine. Easy.

  He was right. I was his. In that space and time, my body was the property of Casey Moore.

  Saturday, October 11, 2008

  I TOLD TROY SHE was mine, but the truth was, I belonged to Blake
. She could toss me out anytime she wanted, but I couldn't do the same to her.

  Her taking that call earlier did things to me. It made me livid and jealous and made me realize, again, that she wasn't mine.

  It wasn't a good time to talk about it, but I needed to relieve some of this tension I was drowning in. The music was loud, so bent down closer to her and I spoke into her ear.

  “What are we doing, Blake?”

  I felt her smile against my cheek. “I think we're dancing.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She pulled away and met my eyes with hers. They looked so big, magnified by the shading and makeup I wasn't used to seeing her wear.

  “You know what we’re doing. We're having fun.” She smiled, but it slid off her face when I didn't smile back.

  “What am to you?”

  “Casey?” She looked worried. But I didn't care. I wanted something. I wanted her to say something to me to let me know that what I was feeling wasn't fucking insane.

  “Fucking tell me the truth. You can lie to everyone else, but right here, right now, just tell me what this is?” My mouth overloaded how I wanted that to come out. Immediately, she grew rigid in my arms. I'd made her uncomfortable, but I was uncomfortable, too. And maybe for the first time she would actually deal with it.

  I knew that she'd just frozen up and left me. She was in my arms, but I'd pushed her into a corner that Blake couldn't handle.

  “We fuck, Casey. We talk on the phone and we fuck. Is that what you want me to say?” Our bodies were pulling apart, mostly hers from mine.

  “A really long one-night stand, huh?” I joked sardonically.

  “Yep,” she shouted over the music, I could see her temper beginning to surface like mine. She continued, “That's what men like you want isn't it, Casey? Fuck and run?”

  She was trying to rile me up.

  Falsely I admitted, “Fuck and run sounds kind of nice right about now.”

  “I couldn't agree more,” she deadpanned.

  I scanned the club, for what I needed, and saw what I was looking for. “Well, I don't want to waste any more of your time.” I grabbed her hand and practically pulled her through the mob of bodies that congregated on the dance floor.

  Walking us down a long hall, I turned every door handle as we passed them. She didn't put up any resistance. When one turned, I peeked my head in, didn't hear anything and then pulled us both inside. I moved her so she was wall and I locked the door.

  It was dark. There wasn't even enough light for my eyes to adjust. That was fine though. I was making a point. And if I had to watch her face as I did it I would have surely backed out.

  I unbuttoned the sexy-as-fuck green number she was wearing and batted her hands away when they came up to my chest.

  “Stop,” I said quietly, making sure to keep as much emotion out of my voice as possible. I didn't want to frighten her. I wanted her to know exactly what she was asking for when she'd suggested this. When she made this something that it wasn't—at least for me, it wasn't.

  With all of the buttons released, I pushed the straps off her shoulders and the whole thing fell to her feet. I felt her try to push her body against mine, but I backed away. I flipped her small frame and she faced the wall. She trembled under my hands.

  “Blake, are you scared?” I had to know. Yes. I wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine, but I didn't want to cross a line. She didn't answer. So I leaned into her and pressed my forehead into the back of her hair. “I don't want to hurt you. You make me crazy. I want you to know how I feel.” Her ass pushed into my cock and I realized she wasn't shaking out of fright. It was lust. Maybe this really was what she wanted.

  So be it.

  “You want me to fuck you like this, don't you? You've been begging for it all weekend.” I had to admit, the fact that she was responding to this made me feel powerful and mighty. Like I actually called the shots for a second.

  “Say it. Tell me to fuck you, Blake,” I growled as I pressed myself hard into the back of her. Her thong-parted ass cheeks felt like they were ten degrees hotter than my hand. I was still fully clothed and decided I would remain that way.

  I unlatched my belt, one button, and unzipped my fly. I pulled myself free and ran the length of myself down her delicate ass. I slipped my hand from behind between her legs and found her soaked-through panties. When my hand met her pussy, she whimpered, “Please, Casey.”

  I moved the silk aside and pushed two fingers deep inside of her. Her sharp inhale told me she wasn't expecting it. It was thrilling.

  “Not what I want to hear.” I moved them in and out and stroked her already clenching core. Then I pulled them from her, leaving her panting and circling her hips in my absence.

  “Fuck me,” she said, but it was so quiet that I could have missed it if the room wasn't so still and I wasn't so focused on her body.

  “Louder, I don't think you mean it.” I moved in closer to her, pressing her to the wall with my hip and rocked my hips to tease her. My hands found her breasts full and her nipples hard. I squeezed them both at the same time and she bucked.

  “Fuck me,” she said, but she was still holding back. My hips began rocking into her, mimicking the motions I so badly wanted to act out. I put my mouth on her neck and sucked, making sure not for too long or in the same place.

  “Please, Casey.” Her frustration was evident in her plea. “Fuck me!”

  Those were the magic words and she shouted them in earnest.

  She panted, “Fuck. Me. Just fuck me.”

  I kicked her legs farther apart with my left foot and clutched one of her ass cheeks while I positioned myself at her opening. Then plunged in.

  I didn't wait for her to relish in the sensation too long though. Partly because my dick was about to explode from the scene that was playing out, and also because I needed to fuck her as bad as she wanted me to. But most of all, I wanted to make my point.

  I slammed into her over and over. She came and then came again on a fast loop. She met me with every thrust. Saying my name and screaming, knowing that no one was going to hear her. Her voice filled my head and my world was consumed with her. I didn't let up. I was merciless. Pushing into her that last time, I heaved my cock with punishing force and came harder than knew I was possible. My screams harmonized with hers.

  For good measure, I surged forward one last time before I pulled myself out. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill.

  “Use this to get back to the hotel.” I slipped it under her hand that was still plastered against the wall. Blake's breathing was labored and I'm sure she was still in that twilight head-space between sex and thereafter.

  I kissed her shoulder.

  “This is a fuck and run. Now you know the difference, honeybee.”

  I slammed the door when I left.

  I fought my instincts and didn't go back to make sure she was okay. I hoped I’d opened her eyes to how she was falsely labeling what we were. I didn't know what the exact term for us was, but I knew fucking and running wasn't what we'd been doing. And now she would, too.

  I met Troy at the bar and told him I was leaving. He decided to stay.

  “Blake's still here. But I'm out.”

  He shook his head mockingly at me.

  “This was her call, Troy. I've got to go. Make sure she gets back to the hotel. Would you?”

  “Oh, I'll make sure all right,” he said like a snake, but I knew he wasn't.

  “If you weren't my best friend…” I pointed at him, adrenaline coursed wildly through my veins from the lesson—I hoped—I gave the girl who I’d rather be leaving with.

  “What? If I weren't your best friend I wouldn't have to watch you do this? I wouldn't see how she's got you so twisted up? Yeah, if I weren't your best friend I'd probably have a fat lip right now. But I am you best friend and I'd rather have the fat lip than feel how you're going to when this all falls apart.” Troy got in my face, chest swelled and eyes dilated
.

  I didn't want to fight him. I was already in a war with myself.

  I turned and left.

  I went back to the hotel and changed rooms. I didn't want to see her. I turned off my phone.

  I needed space. I needed time to think.

  I needed to wrap my head around the one fact that I hadn't let myself think about the whole weekend. The thing that was making this paralyzing pain sharper in my chest.

  She was fucking engaged and she never even mentioned it to me. She was going to marry him.

  I left the next morning and went to the airport for no good reason. My flight didn't leave for four more hours. I sat there and watched the planes come and go. My mind was a labyrinth.

  If I go this way what will happen? If I do that will it even make a difference?

  I wasn't getting anywhere no matter which way I spun it. She was with him and I still wanted her.

  I powered up my phone after having it off after the club. I needed to make sure Troy knew I was already there.

  Honeybee: I get it. I'm sorry.

  Honeybee: You didn't answer your door so I guess you're asleep. See me in the morning? Please?

  Honeybee: I said I was sorry. I meant it. You're being a little dramatic, Lou.

  Honeybee: My flight leaves in an hour. I'm in the lobby.

  Honeybee: This hurts. Stop it.

  That was the one that got me. I think her plane left at eight that morning, ours didn't take off until two. She was long gone.

  Me: Why didn't you tell me you were engaged? When did it happen?

  I got a coffee and put my ear buds in, she was still in the air somewhere over Colorado I was guessing. I sat there for a few more hours. I tried not to think.

  I just listened. But I'll be damned if every single song I heard didn't sound like it was written specifically for what was running through my mind. Fast songs, the slower more melodic ones, they all related.

  Was that how my life was going to be from now on? Could I even take what she had to give me at face value anymore?

  Did I even have a choice?

  Later that night, I finally started to make some kind of peace with it all.

 

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