Cabin In The Woods

by Kristine Robinson

  * * *

  Chapter 1: Gina

  The pounding music in the club was giving me a headache. I sat at the table where I usually stayed with my boyfriend CJ and sipped my drink, watching as he pulled another woman onto the dance floor and began to hold her close. I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d abandoned me for another girl at the club and I was beginning to wonder why I came here with him in the first place. Hell, I was beginning to wonder why I was with him at all. CJ was a trust fund baby, a brat who didn’t have a care in the world for anyone. Including, apparently, me. That would have bothered me a year ago but now, I didn’t care. I had very little emotional attachment to CJ and we were only really together out of convenience—our families got along and we came from similar backgrounds. I wasn’t that invested in him. The girl he was dancing with was beautiful, too, in a different way than me. She was olive-skinned with long dark hair that cascaded down her back. I thought dryly that I hoped he was enjoying himself. At least someone was.

  I decided to go outside for a cigarette. I felt more alone than ever in the back alley of the club. I looked at the stars, thinking about CJ, realizing that I didn’t love him. I didn’t even like him, really, but he did buy me nice things and take me to these lavish parties. I couldn’t complain about my life. It was a life of privilege, of wealth, and though I often felt neglected by CJ, I knew exactly who he was and didn’t expect anything more of him than what I got. At least he was faithful, as far as I knew, and often times he treated me like a princess. According to my mother, that was what mattered. She had always told me that I was just a pretty face, that my only real ambition in life should be to remain as arm candy to a man who could afford to give me a lavish lifestyle. The thought of it made me sad; she didn’t see anything in me, not my intelligence or my potential. I had never been anything but a doll to her, a toy, something to be rid of.

  I was about to go back inside to find CJ when I ran chest-first into a girl who was carrying two garbage bags out the back door. My gut reaction was to get angry, to rage, but then I saw that she was a beautiful girl, bright with red hair and green eyes and a sweet, apologetic smile.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, without even thinking. “I didn’t mean to—“

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She headed past me for the dumpster. I turned to watch her walk. Her movements were elegant and feline; the way she walked was captivating in a way I didn’t understand. Instead of going inside, I lit another cigarette, wanting to linger a little longer. As the girl approached the back door, she shot me another one of those bright smiles that made something twist pleasurably in my stomach. It was a feeling I’d never had looking at CJ, and I was suddenly fascinated enough to want to keep her there.

  “Wanna smoke?” I asked her, not wanting her to leave me in the back by myself. She shook her head.

  “No, thank you, ma’am,” she said, her voice all honey. “I don’t smoke.”

  “Don’t want to smell like cigarettes, hm?” I said, teasingly. She shook her head again. “I suppose garbage is preferable.”

  She looked at me with one eyebrow raised, a small smile still playing on her lips.

  “Maybe you should take better care of yourself,” the girl said. I bristled at that. She didn’t even know me. I was just trying to talk to her and found her suggestion to be infinitely rude.

  “Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?” I asked her in a huffy voice. I knew I was overreacting but this stranger, this nobody who simply worked at the club, had overstepped her bounds. I was a loyal patron of this club and had never seen her before. She must have been new, unused to having to mind her manners around the customers.

  The girl just shrugged, then left with a grin. I threw away my cigarette and went inside to find CJ. He wasn’t on the dance floor where I’d left him, nor was he at the bar. I walked in a loop around the club and finally found him in one of the side rooms with his pants down, a pair of olive-colored legs wrapped around his waist. He was railing into the girl without a thought in the world as to who might find him or what I would think if I did. A rage grew within me, born out of embarrassment and entitlement. He was a terrible boyfriend, yes, but he was supposed to be mine and mine alone.

  I grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him off the girl, who looked at me with wide eyes but said nothing.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hissed at him, humiliated and furious all at once. The look on his face made me angrier. He looked at me casually. Actually, he looked at me like I was an inconvenience for interrupting his dalliance with the girl.

  “Relax, babe,” he said, his voice lazy and unconcerned. “I’m just having a good time. Lighten up.”

  “I’m your girlfriend,” I spat. “What the fuck, CJ? In public? You couldn’t have waited to cheat on me until we got home, asshole?”

  He looked at me blandly. “Don’t talk to me like that. You’re just a sex toy that should know her place.”

  I charged at him, full of rage, went to slap his face but he pushed me so that I fell forward and hit the table. I tried to stand, feeling a small trickle of warm blood begin to drip off my lip where I’d hit it on the table. Just then, the girl I’d seen in the alley earlier opened the door and peered in. When she saw me and my bloody face, she looked at CJ with disdain and anger, all traces of a smile gone from her pretty features.

  “Get out of here or I’ll hurt you,” she said, her voice calm but her face deadly. She was much, much smaller than the man but I had no doubt she would act on her threat. She faced him boldly, as if he didn’t outweigh her by at least fifty pounds.

  CJ blustered, drawing himself up straight. “I am a loyal patron of this club. Don’t you know who I am? I could buy and sell this place without a thought. You’d better watch who you’re talking to.”

  “No, I don’t know who you are,” the girl said, stepping closer to him, her chin held high. “And I don’t care. Get out of here now.”

  CJ was about to say something else and made to move toward her but then two more staff members showed up, both men, wearing security t-shirts. They escorted him out as he huffed and insisted that they let him go. I heard him protesting throughout the bar even over the pounding music of the club.

  By then, the girl CJ had been screwing had quietly disappeared from the room. I didn’t blame her for what she did, and was glad that it didn’t have to come down to my confronting her, too. That was the last thing I wanted. I was still sitting near the table, staring up at the girl who’d come to my rescue. She knelt down and reached her hand out to take mine, then helped me up.

  “Come with me,” she said gently, and I followed her through the club and to the manager’s office. She shut the door behind us and the room went blessedly quiet. I watched while she reached into a small refrigerator and took out an ice pack, handing it to me so that I could put it on my lip. She disappeared for a moment and reappeared with a glass of water. I sipped it gratefully, watching the girl through my lashes. She was so pretty and she had stood up for me even after I had been so rude to her outside. I couldn’t believe that she would even look at me, let alone help me.

  “You probably think I’m just some spoiled fool with too much time on my hands,” I said, and to my surprise, she nodded in agreement. I was stricken by her honesty, by her opinion of me, and began to cry. I was overwhelmed with the emotions of having found CJ, of being locked in the office with a stranger who thought very little of me. Everything was so humiliating that I couldn’t help but to break down.

  “No, no,” the girl said. “Don’t cry. You just looked like you needed some help. I don’t think you’re all that bad.”

  I looked into her eyes, then. Saw that she was being genuine. She looked at me kindly with no hint of resentment in her green eyes. I relaxed a little, watching as she sat down across from me in one of the manager’s chairs.

  “What’s your name?” I asked her, curious. She smiled at
me brightly and just the sight of it made my heart flutter in my chest.

  “I’m Alana,” she told me. “What’s yours?”

  “Gina.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Gina,” she said kindly. “Do you want me to call you a cab?”

  I shook my head no. The last thing I wanted to do was deal with a stranger, especially a strange man. After CJ had hurt me, I had no wish to look at another man’s face.

  “I’d feel better with someone I know,” I said, gazing at her, hoping she’d get the message. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to stay with her. She made me feel safe and cared for, though all she had done was give me an ice pack and some water. She’d even admitted that she thought I was just another spoiled patron of the club, but part of me thought that maybe she wasn’t quite convinced.

  “You barely know me,” she said, chuckling. “We just met tonight.”

  “After the night I’ve had, I’ll take it,” I said. She looked at me for a long moment and then told me to wait a minute and disappeared from the room. When she came back, she gestured for me to follow her.

  “I fixed it so that I can take you come. C’mon.”

  We left the club and got into the parking lot. I slipped into her old, rundown sedan. It was hardly the kind of thing that I was used to but I was grateful for the ride nonetheless. We were quiet and I wasn’t sure what to say, whether to ask her about herself, knowing this was the last time I’d probably see her, or whether to just keep quiet. So I did, staring out the window instead, watching as the other cars passed.

  When we got to my apartment, I turned to thank her.

  “Would you like me to walk you to your door?” she asked, and I was grateful for the offer. I nodded, relieved. For some reason, I didn’t want to let go of her just yet. When we got to the door of my apartment, I turned to her.

  “Want to come in for a drink?”

  “Technically, I’m still on duty,” she said. I took her hand and she looked at me with a little half-grin on her face.

  “Please,” I said, giving her my most charming smile. “One drink. I want to thank you for being so kind to me.”

  She paused, then nodded and followed me inside. I gestured for her to sit on my couch as I poured us both a glass of wine, then sat next to her, handing her the glass. There was something about her, about that smile, that threw me off balance. It made it hard to quit staring at her beautiful features. Made it hard, too, to keep from moving closer to her.

  “Tell me your story,” I told her, because I really wanted to know. Because I wanted to keep her talking. I watched her face as she spoke, stricken by how beautiful she was. I’d never really been attracted to women, but I felt something stir within me while I was sitting there with her, some unfamiliar attraction that both confused and aroused me. I hoped she didn’t notice; I’d feel embarrassed if she knew what I was thinking, that the last person on my mind was CJ or any man.

  “My story is short but far from sweet,” she said. “I was born in Arkansas. Very poor family. I’m working here in South Beach to send them money when I can.”

  I nodded, then thought about it. “I can help you,” I said, my voice low and sultry. “If you help me forget.”

  I wanted to get back at CJ but I wanted more to touch this girl, for some reason. I moved toward her and took her cheek in my hand, brought her face to mine and kissed her softly on the lips. She froze but then began to respond, her mouth soft and sensual on mine. I slipped my tongue between her lips to coax hers out and she tasted me sweetly, stroking my tongue with hers. I sighed against her lips and responded passionately, putting my hand to her cheek to pull her face close to mine. I found that I was touching her, that my hands were on her thighs and I was stroking them up and down with my fingertips. I felt her shiver while I kissed her, our mouths pressed hotly together, and I brought my hands from her legs to her shirt, pulling it up over her head. She let me, then reached around and unhooked her bra for me so that it fell down onto her lap. Her nipples were a light pink color, almost as light as her skin, and when I lowered my head to take one between my lips she dug her nails into my shoulder. I sucked on one breast, teasing it with my tongue, relishing the taste and feel of her in my mouth. It was something I had never done before, never thought to do, but I found that it was getting me hotter than anything I’d ever experienced. Once her nipple was hard, swollen, and wet from my mouth I switched to the other one and began to suck on that, lost in desire and the desire to please her in a way I hadn’t felt before. I traced the outline of her free nipple with my fingertip while continuing to suck on the other one. I found I could spend all my time on her lovely breasts, that I would be happy to kiss and suck on her all night if I could. But she pulled back, pulled her bra back over her breasts and hooked it in the back.

  “You should get some sleep,” she said softly, searching my eyes.

  I blinked at her, then got angry. Nobody said no to me. Ever. It hurt, especially on a night like this after what had happened with CJ, after he’d publically humiliated and rejected me in the club.

  “I never thought I’d be denied twice in one night,” I said. “Especially by someone like you.”

  Alana looked at me coldly, drinking in the insult. She shook her head.

  “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” she said, and got up to leave. I watched her go, cursing myself. I felt horrible for being so rude. There was no excuse—the girl had brought me home, even kept me company for a little while. I remembered her mouth on mine and brought my hand to my lips, which were still warm from her touch. She had been so kind to me and in turn I had been a raging bitch.

  I got up and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. I stared at myself as I took off my makeup and brushed my teeth, filled with self-loathing. I couldn’t believe what I had done, the things I’d said to her. Disgusted with myself, I climbed into bed. Briefly, I thought of CJ, but the thought left my head as soon as it entered and I found myself thinking about Alana, about her lips and her taste and the way she smelled. I fell asleep hating myself, and was restless for the rest of the night.

  When I did sleep, I dreamt of her. We were back at the club in the coatroom where I’d found CJ fucking that girl, but in the dream CJ was nowhere to be found. Instead, it was just Alana and I. She was on her knees, her face between my legs, not licking but simply teasing me. She would run the flat of her tongue along the creases between my mound and my thigh, her breath teasing my mound as she touched me. I dreamt that she did this for a long time, until I was practically begging for her to give me some satisfaction. She wouldn’t, though, instead moving her mouth to my thighs, kissing them sweetly. Her palm cupped my mound but didn’t apply much pressure other than to rub against my bud in a circle. The touch was so indirect that it drove me crazy.

  “Please,” I begged her in the dream. “I need more.”

  She looked up at me and smiled. “But you’re a rude girl,” she said. “You don’t deserve more.”

  I told her I was sorry, then told her again. Still, she teased me. She crawled up my body and licked the circles around my nipples, refusing to touch the actual points with her mouth. While she did so, her fingers brushed through the tiny thatch of hair above my mound and then lowered to settle upon my lower lips. I humped up against her hand, trying to get more friction against my needy bud. For a minute, she let me grind against her. She did so just long enough to let me work myself into a frenzy and then she moved away, grabbed my chin in one hand and held my face still to kiss me with a wicked fury. Her tongue explored my mouth while my body implored her to do more than just kiss me, to fuck me. But she wouldn’t, no matter how much I begged. I had never been so turned on, so taunted by anybody. Not in my dreams or awake. CJ had never been a good lover, had never gotten me to the point where I would plead for release. My imagination told me that Alana would be able to do just that. I had only spent a short amount of time with her but I could tell by the way she moved, the way her eyes sparkled when I had kissed her, t
hat she knew how to pleasure a woman beyond her limits.

  She teased me for the rest of the dream, not actually touching me at all. Instead, it was all indirect pressure and pleasure built from the mere idea of being fully attended to by her mouth, her mound, and her fingers. There were things I’d seen in videos before that part of me had always wanted to explore with a woman, though I’d hardly admitted it to myself before. I wanted to know what it felt like to rub our folds together, to make love with our buds pressed against each other while we stared into each other’s eyes. I wanted to know, too, what she tasted like, and how she would sound when she moaned while I got to try pleasuring her for the first time with my mouth. I would touch her the way I liked to be touched, knowing that’s what she would want.

  When I woke up I was panting, my panties soaked clear through. I tried to please myself but it was no use. I was still filled with disgust at the way I had treated her and knew, too, that there was nothing I could do to myself that she wouldn’t be able to do better. It was no use to try.