I wait for a few seconds, but he makes no move to touch me.
So, I reach out and touch him instead.
Chapter Six
I cup his rough cheek and turn his face towards me, then gently tug on his beard and bring his face close to mine so I can taste his lips. I might start the kiss, but he finishes it, his tongue working against mine, his lips leaving my dizzy.
The door opens, and I whip my head around.
“Cab is on the way,” Ellen says, smirking.
“Okay. Can you just give us five minutes?” I plead to her. She nods and closes the door behind her. Five minutes isn’t going to cut it, but beggars can’t be choosers. Feeling bold, I straddle his lap and kiss him again, grinding down on his cock. My hands on his face, I hungrily kiss him, my tongue tasting and searching. His hands lower to touch the globes of my arse, my dress now ridden up and exposing my panties. He makes a sound deep in his throat that has me wanting to undo his jeans, not caring who comes in or sees. Maybe I could have a quick taste? I could drag him into the bathroom and get on my knees in front of him; there’s a lock on that door, so no one could interrupt. He touches my leg and groans, “You know, not all women can pull off the knee-high thing, but with you it should be mandatory.”
Mandatory?
I grin.
What should be mandatory is him fucking me every day and night.
I lift his shirt up, exposing his abs, and he lifts his hands so I can pull it off him. Apparently he isn’t going to be the voice of reason either, because he isn’t stopping this even though the girls could walk in at any time now, and we have to leave any minute. I don’t give a fuck, either. I’ve never needed someone inside me as much as I want him in this very moment. I can feel his hard cock straining against his jeans, and I make a soft sound of want. My hand is on his zipper when the door suddenly slams back open.
“Time to go, wrap this up, arseholes!” Ellen calls, then pauses. “Whoa, were you guys about to fuck? Awkward. I don’t care, we’re going out. You can fuck later.”
The door closes.
Eli rolls me over onto my back and lifts my arms above my head, pinning them to the mattress. “You drive me fucking crazy.”
“Feeling is mutual.”
“How the hell am I meant to go out like this?” he asks, grinding his hips into me to emphasize just what ‘this’ is.
“I want you so badly, too. Just because you can’t see it…. You have no idea how wet I am for you right now.”
He all but jumps off me and stands by the bed, hands moving to behind his neck. He stares at me in utter frustration, then paces up and down my room a few times, as if trying to calm himself down. I roll over onto my stomach then slide off the bed onto my knees, my dress riding up again, showing him everything while my face is shoved into the sheets. I don’t want to go out. They can’t make me.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Eli growls, and I lift my head and turn to look at him. His eyes are on my arse, and the back of my exposed thighs. I pull my dress down, then stand up.
We look at each other.
His chest is rising, up and down, and I lick my lips, and look down his body.
Fuck, he’s a sight.
The door opens again, and Eli storms out without his shirt. I grab it, along with my handbag, and leave my room.
I guess we’re fucking going out.
*****
I’m sitting in between Keisha and Eli in the back seat of the cab, trying to put my seat belt in the buckle, but for some reason it won’t cooperate. Eli is reading something on his phone, and Keisha is doing a little wiggly dance move next to me, excited to be going out.
“It won’t go in,” I grumble, fiddling with it.
“That’s what she said,” Keisha unsurprisingly snickers from next to me. I playfully nudge her, then continue my attempt at car safety.
“Wait, she’s not wearing her seat belt, can you stop for a second?” Eli asks the cab driver in a stern tone. It’s a bit excessive, I think, and the look I get from Keisha lets me know she thinks the same. I don’t know why he does this, or why he would tell the driver to stop, but the driver does, pulling over onto the side of the empty road.
Eli leans over, his chest against my breasts, and buckles it for me with a simple click.
“Thanks,” I say, lifting my legs up and resting them on top of his thighs. I always want to be touching him in some way or another. This is probably not a good thing, considering the circumstances. “Okay, we’re good. Thanks,” I tell the driver. The rest of the drive is fairly uneventful. When we get there, we head into our first stop. I notice Eli acting a little differently, his playfulness gone. Maybe he’s just really drunk? I don’t know. I put my hand on his chest and he looks down at it, then back at me. “Do you want a drink?”
I shake my head.
He gets himself one, and I’m left wondering what changed him in the course of the ten-minute drive here. He acts distant for the rest of the night, and soon, we lose him. I have no idea where he went, so I send him a quick message letting him know where we are in case he tries to find us, and then try and have a good night with the girls.
“I went home. Have a good night.”
He went home? Just like that? Is he joking?
We were meant to go home together, after having a fun night out, drinking and dancing and teasing and laughing, and he just goes home?
I tell Keisha and Ellen, and they’re both confused and unimpressed.
“Why didn’t he just say bye?” Keisha asks, looking annoyed. She stumbles a little on her feet, before steadying herself. “That’s kind of rude, Taye. Come on, we’re not going to let it ruin our night though. Tonight is going to be a great night, don’t you think?”
I wish I had the answer for that, but I don’t. So instead, I do what I always do.
I play it off.
“It’s fine,” I say, forcing a smile. “And yes, it will be a great night. Let’s go have a shot.”
Keisha is right; I’m not going to let this ruin my night. Sure, I feel a little confused and let down, especially knowing that I won’t be having any hot sex tonight. It’s a little frustrating because we’ve been talking about it for over a week now, wanting to get our hands on each other again, but he just bailed without so much as a ‘see you later.’
I don’t get men sometimes.
Make that all the time.
For the rest of the night, I dance, I laugh, I smile. Hell, I even flirt, and enjoy the attention I get from other men. But in the back of my mind I can’t escape the feeling that wherever Eli is—that’s where I’d rather be right now.
And that isn’t how it’s meant to be.
I can’t get feelings for a guy who is leaving. I think I have a type, and that type happens to be emotionally unavailable. Eli has so many amazing qualities, and we have the best banter and deep conversations. I don’t know how he does it, to be honest, being so open and having no boundaries with me, taking the time to understand me, and show me that I’m not too much for a man to handle, but at the same time, he doesn’t want me completely. He just wants a taste, I guess. Or maybe not even that.
Because his actions tonight have me questioning everything.
Maybe it’s best to just forget I ever met him.
*****
I get home from the club at 4:00 a.m., but once I’m showered and in my bed, I still can’t sleep. I think it’s a mix of the energy drinks I consumed along with my thoughts of Eli. When my phone beeps with a message from him, I don’t even want to look. I know I sent him something in my drunken angry state, and I can’t even remember what I said. With a groan, I open the message.
“Sorry, I had to get up for work and didn’t want to ruin your fun.”
I call bullshit.
I can be a very blunt, forward type of girl at times, and I’m definitely not going to let this go until I understand exactly what happened.
“Pretty sure we were meant to leave together, Eli. And now I’m
grumpy and sexually frustrated and wondering what your deal is?” I reply.
Don’t think you can get any more honest than that.
“I could drop over now before I head to work?” is his reply.
The fucked-up thing is, I actually consider it. I did want to fuck him, and I wanted him in my bed. I wanted a repeat of our first night together, that uninhibited wild sex that I’ve been craving ever since he gave me my first taste. But now?
I’m annoyed.
Does this man owe me anything?
No.
Nothing at all.
But that doesn’t mean he can treat me however he feels. If he had to leave, that’s fine. But common courtesy would say he should have come and said bye. I’m a person that, if you go out with me, I will always make sure you get home safely. That’s how I’ve always been. I’m that annoying friend that will ring your phone a hundred times even if you’re out fucking someone just because I need to know that you’re okay.
“I can’t,” I text back, because I actually can’t. Carter will be coming over here in an hour; I have to watch him because Seth has work. We had a plan, it wasn’t followed, and now I’m horny and going to be grumpy for the rest of the day. I had fantasized so many times what I wanted to do to him, what I wanted him to do to me… and now, I’m going to have to see if he still wants to help me play that out, or if he’s changed his mind, going by his sudden coldness. Then again, he did offer to drop by this morning, so I guess he still wants to fuck me.
Maybe he was just having a bad night? Maybe he drank too much? He did have an amount that would have put me in hospital.
I don’t know.
I put my phone on silent and try to get a little rest before I need to be switched on and happy in front of my nephew.
Who knew meaningless sex could be so complicated?
Chapter Seven
I take Carter to the park, and get us some ice cream. Watching his dark head of hair running around and flying everywhere makes me grin.
“How are you feeling?” Eli messages, as if he suddenly cares. Okay, I might be a tad dramatic at times, but I really don’t have time in my life for someone who is flaky or makes me question myself.
Does he want me or not?
Maybe the question should be, how much of me does he want?
I’ve never been one to go where I’m not wanted; I know my worth. I don’t know the real reason he bailed last night, but he is messaging me today, so maybe it was just a bad night, or maybe he wasn’t in a good mood, although I don’t know what put him into a bad one.
“Not too bad. You?” I type back, lifting my head to watch Carter. With his brown eyes and olive skin, he’s the spitting image of our side of the family, our Sri Lankan heritage passed on to him.
“Taye, watch this!” he yells, going higher on the swing.
“Awesome, Carter.” I grin, taking a quick photo of him to give to my brother. The kid laughs, and I think I feel my heart explode. Seth is a young father, and with Carter’s mother out of the picture, I do what I can to help. He’s with me a lot of the time, and I like it that way. I’m close with my brother, although we don’t always see eye to eye. He can be overprotective, even though he’s younger, but he can also be very judgemental, so it’s hard because there are things I don’t tell him, and things I don’t want him to know about, mostly to do with men.
“Yeah, I feel fine now. I might have Monday off, do you want to do something?” he asks. I reread the text message twice. He wants to spend his day off with me? Is this him trying to make up for what happened last night?
“Sounds good.”
I want him again, and I’m going to have him. That’s the bottom line of this whole situation. He’s leaving, there’s no end game, I should just enjoy the time I have with him. I shouldn’t overthink anything, which I will admit is a problem for me. For once though, I want to just feel, and not worry about anything else.
I deserve to have sex with this man, amazing sex.
And I’m going to.
*****
I’m not a woman who does ‘day’ dates.
Don’t ask me out for coffee, or lunch. I like going out at night, where I’m dressed up, my hair and make-up is perfect, and I’m in a little black dress. That’s my comfort zone. That’s when I feel like I’m invincible. But as I iron my hair and look in the mirror, ready to go to Eli’s house at 11:00 a.m., sun shining brightly outside, I wonder just how many rules I’m going to break for this man. Still, I’m not going for coffee or lunch, I’m going for rough, hard sex, and orgasms, so I suppose it’s okay. That’s something I can get on board with any time of the day or night. I call a cab to drop me off there, because my brother took my car, and wait for it to pick me up. I’m wearing a casual black day dress and sandals, with natural make-up, just a little foundation to cover my freckles, and some mascara. I look cute; I think I do, at least. When I pull up to his place, he comes out and pays the cab driver before I can, the female driver loving his act of chivalry, ignoring me trying to poke my card in her direction.
How he has managed to annoy me before we’ve even spoken a word, I have no idea.
It must be a talent of his.
When I see a truck parked out the front of his house, a man walking inside, I turn to him and say, “Why is there someone at your house?”
I probably should have said something nice, like hello, ask him how he is maybe, but these are the first words that fly out of my mouth.
“Yeah,” Eli says, smirking. There is amusement written all over his face. “He pulled up just before your cab did.”
Of course he did.
He clearly finds this amusing, while I do not.
How are we meant to fuck if one of his work mates is over?
He leads me inside, and his friend says hi to me. I say hello in return, cringing as Eli closes the door behind after we head into his room. Great, his friend is only a few metres on the other side of the door, and of course he knows what we’re doing. Does this mean I have to try and be quiet? I don’t know if I’d be any good at that, especially with the way he fucks.
And his tongue.
Can’t forget the tongue.
I sit down on the bed and flash Eli a less-than-impressed look that he just chuckles at.
“He’s going to hear,” I say, a half assed protest. I don’t care who can hear, if I’m being honest with myself. I just want him.
“Who cares?” he says, lifting my dress up over my head.
Straight to business, hey?
I approve.
“Is he your friend? Because it’s rude if we’re in here and he’s out there. Should we sit out there with him for a while?” I rant, even though my dress is already off and it’s the last thing I want to be doing right now. I don’t know why I’m caring what the fuck he’s friend is doing right now.
“He’s just finishing some work and then he’ll go,” he replies, unfazed. “He’s not here to hang out with me, he had to pick some stuff up.”
I feel like this still isn’t a great excuse, but then he looks at me like he wants to devour me and I want nothing more than to let him.
His lips slam down on mine and he kisses me deeply while his roaming hands undo my bra and push me back onto the bed in one quick movement. I run my fingers up his back, bringing his T-shirt with them, a silent hint that I want it off. He breaks the kiss to pull it off, while I slide my bra straps down my arms and throw it onto the floor. When he’s back on me, it’s skin against skin, my pebbled nipples pressed against his chest. He looks into my eyes for a second before kissing my lips, then my jawline, and then down my neck. Neck kisses are my weakness, and by this point, I’m ready for him to just fuck me hard, but he continues the torture, now paying attention to my breasts. Cupping them in his hands, he sucks on one nipple, biting it gently, then moving to the other. He then moves down my stomach, sliding my panties down and off me completely. I feel a little vulnerable for a moment, his face right in front of my pussy in broa
d daylight. There’s nothing he can’t see of me right now; he’s up close and personal. Yes, he’s seen everything before, but it wasn’t in the daylight and we were both drunk.
Right now, it’s a completely different ball game, and it’s much more personal.
When his tongue swipes over my clit, though, and then inside me, I forget all my insecurities and spread my thighs further apart while he licks me all over, in, and around my pussy. Lifting my hips up, silently begging for more, I both love and hate his teasing.
Fuck, what he does to me.
He takes his mouth away from me, and I want it back. What I get is his cock instead though, so I definitely won’t be complaining. He slides into me and lifts my thighs up, putting my legs over his shoulders as he starts to thrust inside me, starting off slow. He then starts to move his hips, faster and harder, our eyes locked on one another. I reach up and tug on his beard, so he lowers his face to kiss me. I taste myself on him, and it turns me on even more, driving me even wilder. In an instant he pulls out of me and rolls me over to my side, sliding back into me. He pushes my hair off my neck, and places a kiss there, while his other hand rests on my hip. I turn my head to the side to look at him, both of our eyes heavy lidded, both of us lost in the pleasure. When I come, I try to look away from him, but I can’t. I let him see in my eyes what he’s doing to me, I let him watch as wave after wave hits me, let him see the moment where nothing matters but this—the pleasure he’s giving me. I let him see me uncensored, uninhibited.
Just me.
Raw.
I show him everything, I give him everything. Nothing is off limits to this man. In this moment, everything that he wants he can take; everything I have is his.
Nothing else matters right now.
When I come back to myself, I look at him in such a way that he asks me, “What’s that face for?”
I don’t know what face I’m making right now, but the way he’s fucking me, the way he’s looking at me, right in the eye. The way he holds me, so possessively, hand on my throat, or my nape, or tangled in my hair.
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