Bliss Series Boxed Set: The Whole Damn Harem

by B. J. Harvey

  When he starts to discuss the merits of chess with me, I decide to chance a look toward Zander, my cheeks flaming as he catches me looking at him. Damn, he’s looking hot. He’s wearing a pair of black slacks that hug him in all the right places, and a white wife beater underneath an open dark blue dress shirt that makes his eyes look like the bluest of oceans that you just want to dive naked into.

  I haven’t seen or talked to him since the night I was drunk and tried to seduce him. He’d saved me from a guy I’d been dancing with in this very bar. The guy started to come on very strong, very quickly, and when he wouldn’t take no for an answer, getting forceful with his hand pushing under my skirt, Zander stepped in, punched him in the face, then grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the bar.

  As soon as he’d hailed a cab and ushered me inside, he gave the driver my address and wrapped his arms around me as I cried into his shirt. My body shook violently as the reality of the moment suddenly hit home. He’d rubbed his hand up and down my arm, kissing my head and murmuring words that to this day I can’t remember, but I do know he calmed me down and made me feel safe. It was exactly what I’d needed in that moment, a moment that has forever been etched into my brain.

  But me, being drunk, stupid, and totally enamored with my knight in shining armor, pushed my luck as soon as we were inside my apartment and went to kiss him. He’d met my lips with enthusiasm, and the kiss was like one of those that you read about in romance novels. Our tongues tangled together, and our lips meshed as if we were made for each other. Fireworks were exploding around us, the world stopped, and it felt like all of my dreams had come true in that one kiss. But when I pulled back and asked him if he wanted to spend the night with me, he froze. He’d stared at me for what seemed like forever before shaking his head and leading me down the hallway to find my bedroom, telling me to get into bed. He’d returned with a large glass of water and two Advil, kissed me goodbye on the forehead, then turned to leave before I could conjure up a response. Minutes later, I’d blacked out.

  Tonight is the first time I’ve seen him since that night, and as the memory of my embarrassing behavior comes flooding back to me, I have to look away as a blush takes over my face. It’s still just as mortifying now as it was the morning after. I haven’t even told Mac about what happened. That was the night she freaked out and ended up at Daniel’s apartment before running out on him again in the middle of the night.

  “Ah, Kate, I think I better go. It’s getting close to 10 p.m., and I need to get home to feed my cat, Mr. Buttons.”

  And there it is. The final nail in the date’s coffin.

  “Absolutely Roger, thanks for having a drink with me. I’ll be okay getting home, you just worry about getting home to Mr. Buttons,” I say, masking the huge relief I’m feeling at not having to explain how I won’t be seeing Roger the Accountant again.

  He stands up and takes a step toward me, holding his hand out to shake it. Who the hell shakes their date’s hand?

  “Have a good night, Roger. I’ve just got to go to the ladies. See you around.”

  I shake his hand awkwardly before standing up and walking toward the bar, stopping when I realize that Zander is no longer at the bar.

  I catch the eye of the barman. “Hi. Sorry, but is the man who was sitting here still around?”

  “Nope,” he says with a sly grin. “But since I live with the guy, I’m sure I can pass on a message for you.”

  “Oh shit. Um…no. Don’t do that. Thanks anyway,” I reply, flustered as I rush out the door and jump into the first cab I find.

  Shit! Now Zander will know I asked about him, god knows what he’ll make of that. Looks like my Friday night is a total disaster all round.

  Chapter 2

  “Girlfriend”

  Kate

  I come home to an empty house and a note from Mac saying that she’s spending the weekend at Daniel’s apartment but to call if I need her.

  I grab my phone as I’m kicking my gorgeous black heels off my feet, stepping into my plush pink slippers that make me feel like I’m walking on clouds.

  Kate: You better be having a better night than me. Boring Roger the accountant who likes to play chess, was a bust. Date from hell #1 out of the way.

  Mac: Aww hon, sorry you had a bad night. If I was there, I’d put a Channing Tatum movie on and eat ice-cream with you while you finish off that bottle of white in the fridge.

  Kate: You know me so well! Give Superman a hug from me, and tell him he’d better be looking after my girl and little superhero.

  Mac: He has. Twice, in fact ;)

  Kate: Enough you horny bitch! See you tomorrow.

  Proving that my best friend knows me oh so well, I grab a wine glass and the half empty bottle of pinot that’s in my fridge, and pad my way across to the couch, curling myself up into the corner and murmuring sighs of contentment as the first mouthful makes it’s way down my throat.

  Letting out a huge sigh, I realize that I’m spending another night sitting at home by myself at...yep 10 p.m., and drowning my sorrows about the sorry state of my love life. Granted, Roger was just my first online date, but if he’s anything to go by, I should be running for the hills. Or the nearest convent. If I wasn’t so determined to give it a real shot, I’d be closing up shop now, resigning myself to a single life with lots of cats, and being aunty to Mac and Daniel’s kids.

  But that’s definitely not what I want, and I’m determined, so I grab the laptop off the coffee table in front of me and boot it up, bringing up the Chicago Singles website and logging in. I see a reminder that my date with Roger has come and gone. How insightful, little website. Can you also tell when the date is full of shit and boring as hell? Because that could have saved me a hell of a lot of effort!

  I check to see whether Boring Roger has rated our date yet, and almost spit out my mouthful of wine when I see he rated it four out of five hearts. What the fuck! He must be more deluded than I thought. That date was as dull as dishwater. The only thing exciting about it was my brief encounter with Zander across the bar. And as embarrassing as that was, he still managed to get a way hotter response from my body than Roger could ever achieve.

  Dammit. Why did Zander have to be such a gentleman? For one night, he had the chance to just be a normal guy and think with his dick. Why couldn’t he have just taken me up on my offer and given me one night of mind-blowing, life-changing sex? It would have been amazing...the way he moves his body, the way he carries himself...god, just the way he looks at you. It all screams he’s a guy who knows what he’s doing between the sheets. He didn’t want me to regret him in the morning, but one look at that man, and that is a whole world of regret worth having. Over and over again. Multiple orgasms worth of pain right there.

  I focus back on the rate your date screen in front of me and decide that if I’m going to give this internet dating thing a real shot, it’s best to start it honestly. I’m not going to lie about my date with Boring Roger. He may have rated me four out of five hearts, but I think he may be delusional.

  Downing the rest of my glass of wine for confidence, I click the mouse and rate my date zero out of five hearts. My reasoning? I’m not doing my fellow female daters any favors by lying about Roger’s dating prowess. If that makes me a bitch, so be it. At least I’m an honest bitch.

  ∞∞~

  I wake up to the smell of bacon wafting through my apartment. In my sleepy haze, I have a mini freak out. Did last night go differently? Oh god, please tell me I didn’t drag Boring Roger home with me. “Mac?” I call out.

  “Yeah, it’s only me. I’ve made breakfast,” she answers as I breathe a huge sigh of relief. My head feels slightly unhappy with me. With a drink at the bar, and half a bottle of wine on an empty stomach when I got home, it’s no wonder really.

  I roll out of bed and sleepily stumble into my bathroom to do my morning business before grabbing my robe and Playboy bunny slippers and heading out into the kitchen.

  “Morning, Sleeping B
eauty,” my best friend greets me as I slump down onto a bar stool next to the kitchen counter. I murmur appreciation as she slides a steaming hot cup of coffee under my nose.

  “Thanks. What are you doing here?” I ask, lifting my head long enough to look up at her.

  She leans back against the counter and rubs her growing belly. “Our little superhero here decided it was time to wake Mommy up, and since I might have worn Daddy out last night, I thought I’d come home and make you breakfast. Sounded like you might’ve needed me after your dud date, and I wasn’t here. I’m so sorry.”

  “Mac, you have a life other than me. Daniel and the mini-you are your life now. I love you to death for thinking of me, though.”

  “I may be with Daniel, but you’re my best friend. I’m still here for you. I hope you know that.”

  “Yes, I do. Now where’s my bacon? I’m not above stealing bacon from a pregnant woman, you know!”

  “You just try, buddy. Never come between me and my food when I’m eating for two, and never my bacon.”

  “You sure it’s not three?” I say, giggling and ducking as a kitchen utensil goes whizzing past my head.

  “Take it back,” she says, one hand on her hip, the other holding a spatula pointed at me.

  “Never.” I swear to god, the grin on my face cannot get any bigger. I love this, the two of us laughing and joking around. It’s just not the same anymore. Not that I wish Mac hadn’t met Daniel because that man is perfect for her; no man was better suited for Mac than her Superman. But I know that she’s going to be moving out soon. It’s inevitable. They’re having a baby. They’ll be starting their new family, and I know that Daniel wants them together. It’s not like Daniel’s apartment is that far; she’ll only be a two-block walk away.

  Then it hits me. Mac must have come over this morning because she felt guilty.

  “Mac, I love you to death, but you can’t keep running to me when you think I might need you. I have a phone. You could’ve just called me,” I try explaining to her.

  “I know, but I wasn’t here for you last night when you got home. So was the date really that bad?”

  “Beyond bad. Think awkward junior prom date bad, minus the pimples and nerdy glasses, and more old man smell with a side of Mr. Buttons, his expectant cat.”

  “Oh God!” she giggles, placing a plate of bacon, eggs and hash browns in front of me.

  “Yeah. I saw Zander there too, at the bar. He was talking to that cute barman.”

  “Yeah, that’s Zach, his roommate.”

  “Oh… OH!” I say, shocked at the realization that Zander will definitely know I asked about him now.

  “What? Did Zander say something?” she asks, her interest piqued.

  “No, no. I only saw him briefly, so I didn’t get to speak to him or anything.”

  She pauses, a slight smirk showing on her face as if she knows something I don’t.

  “What? I know that look, Mac. What are you not telling me?”

  “Nothing. Just seems like there’s something between you two, that's all.”

  “I’ve told you, no! Never gonna happen. He’s had his lightsaber up your who-see-what’s-it.”

  “All good then.” She grins. “Eat up. I didn’t make you breakfast for it to go cold, and I have Daniel’s credit card burning a hole in my pocket and baby clothes to be buying.”

  “Yes, Mom!” I say through a mouthful of food.

  “And don’t talk with your mouthful,” she adds with a smirk.

  She’s acting more and more like a mom every day.

  And I couldn’t be happier.

  Chapter 3

  “Everything Has Changed”

  Zander

  After another week of training at the academy, working out at the gym and even managing to help Zach out with a shift at the bar, I’m home on a Friday night, having just finished my one gig for the evening. I managed to escape with just a few nail scratches on my back and butt. It may be a job, one that keeps me fed, clothed and the rent paid, but the excitement is kind of gone from it now.

  I admit, when I started stripping over a year ago, there was a thrill to it. I’ve always loved music and I’ve never shied away from hitting the dancefloor and ripping it up. So mixing dancing with music, hot horny women, and a pair of tight shorts, didn’t seem like such a hard task. Now, I’m counting down the months until I graduate from the academy and can kiss the stripping goodbye.

  I grab a beer from the fridge, sit down on my bed with my laptop, and log into Chicago Singles, resuming my search through single and available ladies under twenty-five. Let me tell you, there are a LOT of women looking for men in Chicago. You’d think that it would be the guys having trouble finding potential mates but no, I’m confronted with pages upon pages of single women trying to capture my attention.

  After half an hour of searching and not finding anyone who remotely piques my interest, I decide to change tactics and look for a friendly face, someone who I can take out for a coffee, chat for a little bit, and fulfill my dare with Zach. I expand my age range, searching up to under forty, and pretty much leave it up to chance. For two months’ free rent, I’ll have coffee with just about anyone.

  I spoke too soon.

  It’s now Saturday lunch time and I’m sitting across from Brandi. Two months free rent is a lot of money to me, and means I can quit stripping earlier than graduation if I want to. That’s a big deal to me, so having to endure one date to win Zach’s stupid bet...well, why the hell not?

  The problem is that Brandi is a thirty-seven year old divorcee who recently underwent a full body transformation, something she has spent the last half hour explaining to me in great detail. After her divorce, when her husband left her for his twenty year old secretary, she decided to try and show him what he was missing. Tits, face lift, and a tummy tuck. She’s even offered to show me her scars...ALL of them. She’s nice enough, and when we chatted last night she seemed sweet and harmless, an easy way to beat Zach. But God, was I wrong. I’ve had to pretty much pull her off my lap twice, and this is in a friendly neighborhood café. You’d expect this kind of behavior in a bar late on a Saturday night. Hell, there are kids watching in here.

  When I move her hand off my junk for the third time, I know I have to call it quits.

  “Sorry, Brandi, but I don’t think this is going to work,” I say firmly as I made to stand up.

  “But Zander,” she purred, “why don’t we take this to the hotel across the street. I have a hotel room waiting for us. I’ve checked in and everything.”

  Holy shit. This woman isn‘t just a cougar, she’s bordering on being a hyena, willing to take prey at any costs.

  “Thanks, but I’ve, uh, I’ve gotta go. Bye.”

  I left that café so fucking fast, people probably wondered where the fire was.

  Walking home after escaping Brandi’s clutches, my mind drifts back to Kate. All week I’ve had a nagging feeling about her date last weekend. Something just didn’t seem right about the two of them together. He isn’t the type of guy I would ever picture Kate with and now, after my disaster date today, I have a hunch.

  She looked so uncomfortable...I’d bet money on it being a blind date, and her date lying to her about

  a) his age

  and

  b) his personality.

  I could tell she wasn’t feeling it, or him. She was so stiff, nothing like the Kate I’ve seen before. I also noticed her looking my way a few times...everything points to Miss Kate trying out internet dating.

  I send Mac a text knowing that whatever Kate was up to, Mac would likely know.

  Zander: Mac, is Kate dating old guys now?

  Mac: Um, what?!? Of course not. She never goes for older than 30. Why’s that?

  Zander: Saw her at 42nd St Bar with a guy well into his 40s

  Mac: OMG. It was a blind date, off the internet. He must’ve lied on his profile.

  Zander: What site?

  Mac: Why???

  Zander
: Just curious.

  Mac: Curious or interested?

  Zander: Does it matter which one?

  Mac: Chicago Singles Online. Tread lightly with her, okay? But if you’re interested in her, let her know.

  Zander: Stop matchmaking, Mac. Talk to you soon.

  Ten minutes into my search, I’m about ready to whack myself around the head when I come across a gorgeous photo showing the back silhouette of a small, beautifully shaped woman with wavy fire engine red hair that curled around her bra line. Even without seeing her face, this woman’s body was that of a wartime pinup girl. The hair, the curves, the small, demure posture of this woman blew my mind. She was stunning, a picture of beauty and grace. Everything I like in a woman wrapped up in one perfect pocket-rocket sized package. It was Kate. Clicking open her profile page confirmed it, from the sea blue eyes, her five foot nothing height, right down to the smart ass comment about not needing to see any more cock pictures.

  I can’t stop myself from messaging her. I decide to send a short, friendly ice breaker. I won’t tell her it’s me straight away though. I want her to give me a chance just to chat for a while. I want to get to know her, and this may be my only way to do that given the way she acted toward me in the bar. It’s not deception, and it’s not lying. It’s simply omitting the truth about who I am until I can be sure that she’ll give me a chance. That’s what I’m telling myself anyway.

  For friendship? For more? I’m not sure.