Pierce Me: Satisfied by the Bad Boy

by Simone Sowood

  Our noses are close, our lips within contact distance. Eloise’s breathing is rapid against my arm.

  I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want Eloise Hutchinson right now.

  Eloise

  Our lips are close. I brace myself for Gabe’s kiss but one doesn’t come. My panties have been a sopping mess since he walked in the door. Now, every inch of my body is buzzing from his nearness.

  I’ve spent every day since Saturday psyching myself up for today. Building the courage to tell Gabe I’d take him up on his offer.

  With Sophie’s insistence of meaningless sex being exactly what I need. Over and over, in texts, phone calls and even emails, I’ve given into the idea.

  Like she said, ‘If he can do what he says he can, you won’t regret it.’

  It’s Wednesday, but I imagined myself inviting him back to my place tonight. Where he can show me the good time he promised, in the comfort of my home.

  “Dinner first,” he says.

  My brow creases, processing his words.

  “I thought you were joking about dinner before.”

  “No, I’m taking you to dinner first.”

  “Isn’t the girl the one who’s supposed to demand dinner first? Why do I feel like we’re in a role reversal?”

  Gabe smirks, and says, “This ain’t no role reversal. That’ll all be clear when I get your clothes off.”

  The sureness of his voice sends a fresh blast of heat through me. I try to move away, but he holds me tight.

  “I’m not going to object to you buying me dinner,” I say. But my mind races over the possibility of someone I know seeing me with him.

  My friends would freak at the sight of me with a guy with so many tattoos. I wish it were winter, so he’d at least wear a sweater.

  What if my parents saw us? They’d freak, not just at him but at the fact that he’s a client here at the practice. They’d lose all respect for me. Every morning I’d have to be greeted by their looks of disapproval.

  “How about Friday?” he asks.

  My face drops, and I can’t hide my disappointment. To try to cover it, I bite my cheeks and look away.

  Gabe chuckles, “Can’t wait that long? I’m free tonight, if you’re ready for it.”

  “Yes, I’m ready,” I snap, pulling myself away from him and moving across the room.

  “That’s cool. Tonight it is.”

  “Fine,” I say, my voice sharp.

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “Fine.”

  Gabe smirks, and says, “You’re going to have to give me your address.”

  I scribble it down and shove the paper at him. He snatches it from my hand, grabs his T-shirt with his other hand, and walks out of the room.

  Collapsing in the chair, I try to calm myself and figure out what just happened.

  He’s taking me out tonight, followed by the promise of mind-blowing sex, is what just happened.

  Sophie will be pleased, but I’m not breathing a word of it to her until at least tomorrow.

  “Holy cow, that guy just walked through reception with no shirt on!” Marcy yells as her footsteps rush down the hallway. She appears in my doorway, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. “He has the best body I’ve ever seen! Did you touch him?”

  “Control yourself, Marcy. Remember what my parents said about being professional.” I use my most clinical voice.

  She huffs and walks away, no doubt looking for someone else to tell. I cannot believe Gabe didn’t put his shirt back on and walked through the reception area like that.

  The rest of the day is a blur. Autopilot takes over as I see the rest of my patients, my mind whirling over seeing Gabe tonight.

  I get home just before six, giving me an hour to get ready. After spending far too long in the shower, I face my closet, wondering what to wear.

  What do you wear in a situation like this? I still don’t know how I let Sophie talk me into doing this.

  It’s a warm evening. After trying on several outfits, I settle on a dark pink sundress with a halter top.

  Chet, my ex-boyfriend, always liked my hair tied back, which was good because I almost always tie my hair back.

  But tonight is different. It’s all about sex, nothing more. This is about being as far away from my normal self as possible. Tying my hair back the way I always do somehow doesn’t seem right.

  Digging around in my bottom drawer, I locate the automatic hair curler Sophie gave me for Christmas a couple of years ago. I’ve only ever used it a few times, and it takes me a while to get the hang of it. But once I do, it’s easy to get my hair looking like Selena Gomez’s.

  This gives me just enough time to brush my teeth and do my makeup before Gabe is due to arrive.

  At six-fifty-nine, my door buzzes. A million butterflies take off inside of me, and I shake my hands to calm them down. Here comes my first night of meaningless, hook-up sex.

  I open my door to reveal Gabe standing on my doorstep. My jaw drops. He’s wearing black jeans and a tight black T-shirt that forms to his muscles. Somehow he looks better than I’ve ever seen him look.

  His eyes rake over me, from my feet up, setting off the butterflies again. When his eyes reach my head, he bites his bottom lip and shakes his head.

  We stand frozen for a minute, taking each other in.

  “You look incredible. I’ve never seen you with your hair down before. I thought you were beautiful before but this is a whole new level.”

  I blush and curse myself for turning red so easily.

  “Thank you,” I mouth. I want to return the compliment and tell him how good he looks but I can’t find the words.

  “I brought you this,” Gabe says, revealing a single red rose from behind his back.

  “That’s so sweet. Thank you.”

  I take the rose, and reach my lips up to kiss his cheek. Gabe rests his hand on my back, enveloping me in his warmth. I breathe in his clean, masculine scent, and could happily stand here all night.

  He shifts his head, and brushes his lips on my lips. Without thinking, my lips part. Gabe growls, and presses his mouth against mine. He holds me tighter. Holding the rose, I wrap my arms around his strong body.

  Tingles coat my skin and heat pools between my legs. Why are we bothering with dinner? This isn’t a date, and right now I’m feeling ready for everything he promised.

  Gabe pulls his head away, breaking the kiss. I gaze up at him, my breathing rapid.

  “We should get going,” he says.

  “Do we have to? We could ditch dinner and go straight to the mind-blowing part.”

  “No way,” he says with a sly smile, “The deal was dinner first. Besides, you’re not ready for it yet.”

  I fall onto my heels, and pull away from him. I feel like yelling I am ready, but decide maybe he’s right.

  “Let me put this in water,” I say, holding up the rose.

  He follows me into the kitchen. I dig a thin vase from the back of a rarely used cupboard, and fill it with water.

  “You really like roses,” I say with a smile, knowing roses are tattooed all across his chest.

  “Yeah, they have sentimental value for me,” he says, his voice more gravelly than usual.

  “Well, I love roses. They’re my favorite flower.”

  A grin springs across Gabe’s face. He holds his hand out and says, “A good sign for the night. Let’s go.”

  Gabe

  With Eloise’s hand in mine, I lead her to my pickup truck. As she climbs in, I worry that I didn’t clean my truck thoroughly enough for her. At least I got all the junk out of it and she has a place to put her feet.

  I get in the driver seat and start the engine. Before I pull away, I pause to look at Eloise. I was speechless when I first saw her with her hair down. She’s the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.

  It’s going to be a struggle to stick to my plan making her realize this evening is more than about sex. Tonight is all about us becoming an item.<
br />
  I don’t know why she makes me feel the way she does. No other woman has ever done this to me. Hell, normally women are in and out of my life and any who do stick around do so out of their own persistence.

  But there’s something about her that I can’t get enough of.

  Putting the truck in gear, we head off.

  “Do you feel like a burger?” I ask.

  “I’m always up for a burger.”

  “Perfect.”

  Eloise says nothing else, and I get the sense she’s nervous. I guess that’s understandable. She’s probably never been out with a guy like me before, and on the promise of sex she’ll actually enjoy.

  “We could always go to Nick Tahou Hots for a garbage plate,” I joke.

  She laughs immediately, and says, “I haven’t had one since I finished college. It’s tempting, but maybe kind of heavy.”

  “Don’t worry, I was teasing. I wouldn’t take you there on a first date.”

  “Oh,” she says, her voice constricted. The nerves are back. Maybe I shouldn’t have called this a date.

  Reaching across the seats, I find her hand and lace my fingers through it. She doesn’t pull away, and I squeeze her hand, trying to reassure her.

  “What’s your sentimental reason?” she asks.

  “For what?”

  “For roses. I mean, you have a lot of them tattooed on you.”

  I don’t want to get into that now. “They were a family favorite. When I was a kid, our backyard was full of them. When they were in bloom, my mom used to bring bunches of them into the house,” I say.

  “Nostalgia, then.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Did they hurt?” she pauses, then adds, “Getting all the tattoos.”

  “It didn’t bother me, obviously.”

  “I’d be too scared of the pain.”

  “Pain is only in your mind. Besides, you were about to pierce your most sensitive area.”

  “But that’s only one quick thing, not all the hours that it must’ve taken for all your tattoos.”

  Smirking, I look across at her, and ask, “Do you like my tattoos?”

  Eloise shrugs, and says, “They’re growing on me.”

  I burst out laughing, and so does she.

  “I’ll make a bad girl out of you yet.”

  “Never in a million years.”

  We joke around the rest of the drive. I pull the truck into the classiest burger joint in town. At least as classy as a burger joint can get.

  Eloise hops out of the truck, and I drape my arm over her shoulders. She feels perfect against me, like she’s exactly where she belongs. At least she’s loosening up around me and doesn’t seem nervous anymore.

  When we reach the entrance, I hold the door open for her. She steps inside and I follow behind. We stand at the hostess station, waiting to be seated.

  While we wait for a hostess to appear, I look around the restaurant. It’s nicer than my usual spots. It’s mostly tables and chairs instead of booths. And they even have real tablecloths, and they don’t store the ketchup on the tables.

  Fuck.

  Marshall is eating at one of the tables on the far side of the room. We’re going to have to leave. But there is no way I am telling Eloise the reason.

  Somehow I don’t think she could handle the news that someone has a restraining order against me. Even if I took out the restraining order against him first.

  “Jewel, let’s go. I don’t want to eat here anymore,” I say, and pull her hand.

  “Why? We just got here.”

  “I don’t like that guy over there,” I say, nodding my head toward him.

  “So we’ll just sit away from him. It’s not like we’ll be at the same table or anything.”

  “No, we’re leaving.”

  I head to the door, taking her with me. As my hand makes contact with the handle, guilt hits me. I should warn Marshall about Kaylee. I’d want him to do the same for me.

  Except I’m not allowed to even be this close to him, or to contact him in any way. But his clients deserve protection, even if they do use my competition instead of me.

  I glance over my shoulder, Marshall spotted me and is shooting daggers with his eyes. Fuck him. I open the door, and we walk back to my truck.

  “What was that about?” Eloise asks, her brow creased.

  “Nothing. Let’s go someplace nicer. You deserve it.”

  Her brow creases even more, and she mutters, “Okay, whatever.”

  “It’s like Mrs. Singleton used to say, if something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right.”

  She laughs so I think I’ve convinced her. Or at least made her stop asking questions. We get back in the truck, and drive to a nice Italian place just down the road.

  “What happened to burgers?” she asks.

  “Next time,” I say, flashing her a massive smile.

  Eloise doesn’t say anything, and I know she’s contemplating the idea of there being a next time.

  I lead her into the restaurant, and we’re greeted right away.

  “Good evening, table for two?” the hostess asks. She’s smiling but she’s looking me up and down, like I don’t belong in her restaurant.

  “Yes,” I say, my eyes boring into her.

  “Follow me.”

  She grabs two menus, and we follow her to a table by an ornate fountain.

  “This is much nicer, isn’t it?” I wink.

  We order dinner. I have chicken linguine and Eloise has pumpkin ravioli.

  As we eat, we laugh and reminisce about school. Since I moved back to Rochester, I haven’t seen anyone I went to grade school with. It’s nice to think about my childhood, when it was still happy. And it’s especially nice that it’s with Eloise.

  “Where did you move to when you left Rochester?” Eloise asks.

  “Pittsburgh.” I don’t want to have this discussion, especially not now.

  “Did you like it there?”

  “Hated it,” I say and shove a heaping forkful of food in my mouth so I don’t have to say anything else.

  Eloise watches me chew, her eyes searching my face. She’s not getting anything out of me. This is about me and her, and nothing else.

  “I think my sister was in the same grade as your sister,” she says, her eyes fixed on mine.

  Seeing a way to change the subject, I swallow, and ask, “What’s your sister doing now?”

  “She’s in med school. She’s planning to join my parents’ practice when she finishes.”

  The last thing I want to talk or even think about right now is her parents’ medical practice. Just hearing her say the words tenses my shoulders. I exhale sharply, my eyes raking over Eloise. I love seeing her without her ponytail, and her cleavage in that flimsy dress is making me hard.

  “I’d planned to yank on your ponytail as I made you come,” I say, eager to change the subject.

  Her eyes bulge, and I smirk at her.

  “That’s if you can, and a big if.”

  “It’s a promise. I’m going to start by kissing those soft lips of yours, and teasing you with my tongue. Then I’m going to take my fingers, and find that same spot I had you by in my chair, and I’m going to massage it until you’re so wet your ankles are soaked and your mouth is dry. At that point, I won’t be able to resist you any longer, and I’m going to put my dick in you. I’ll be gentle at first, letting you get used to the size and feel of a real man. Once you’re ready, I’m going to pound you until you scream your brains out. By the time I get through, you won’t remember your own name.”

  Eloise sits motionless with her eyes wide and her lips parted as I speak. I don’t even think she’s breathing. I shovel a piece of chicken into my mouth and watch her react.

  Eloise clears her throat, and says, “As long as you’re not just all talk.”

  With a coy smile, I say, “You’re wet right now, aren’t you?”

  She wiggles in her seat, and says with a smile, “This ravioli i
s delicious.”

  We talk easily as we finish our meals. Neither of us wants dessert, so I pay the bill before Eloise has the chance to demand to pay half.

  As we get back to the truck, Eloise says, “Back to my place now?” Her voice has a slight tremble in it, and none of the confidence she’s had over dinner.

  “Not yet,” I say firmly.

  “Where are we going now?”

  “I thought we’d get a drink.”

  “I thought the deal was dinner.”

  The thought of taking her back to her place now and ripping her clothes off is hard to resist, but I’m having too much fun with her and I’m going to stick to my plan. Eloise chats nervously as I drive to a quiet bar I know.

  “You’re not ready. Besides, aren’t you having fun?”

  Eloise smiles, her lips a tight line. I tap her knee, and drive to the nearby bar. We park, and I lead her inside.

  “Oh my God, it’s Sophie, my sister.”

  Eloise

  “Eloise! Over here!” Sophie yells, and I automatically walk to her table.

  It’s a small bar, and hardly any people are here. I guess Wednesday isn’t a big night for bars. Except for my sister, apparently.

  She’s sitting at a table with three other women. They all stop talking, and watch me as I approach them.

  “What are you doing here?” Sophie asks, standing and hugging me.

  “What are you doing here? It’s Wednesday, shouldn’t you be home studying?”

  She shrugs, and says, “Wednesdays are cadaver days, we always come here to have a few drinks afterwards, to clear our minds of the bodies.”

  Comments like that make me glad I wasn’t able to get into med school.

  “Sounds heavy,” I say, looking at her three friends and smiling.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Gabe reaches the table, and brushes my hand with his. Sophie’s eyes bulge. The eyes of her three friends bulge.

  “I’m here with Gabe,” I say.

  “Is that Gabe? Him?” she asks in a hushed tone.