by Erin Noelle
I’m not sure, but I can’t wait to get back home to her to find out.
THE HOUSE IS QUIET. WAY TOO QUIET.
I sit and stare into my third cup of coffee of the morning, wondering what in the hell I’m going to do today. After Adam and Gray left yesterday, I went to the gym, came home and cleaned the house from top to bottom, did some gardening in the front yard, went back to the gym, and then stared at the ceiling until I finally passed out.
Now, I have no clue what I’m supposed to do today, or tomorrow for that matter. I suppose I could go to the art supply store after I work out, maybe finish the painting I’ve been working on, or possibly start on a new one, but none of that sounds like fun. I’m not sure why it seems so different without them here, but it just does.
Almost as if she senses my loneliness from across the city, my phone begins vibrating against the countertop, lighting up with Stella’s picture on the display. I knew I had the best sister in the world.
“Good morning,” I chirp sunnily. “You’re up early.”
“Tell me about it,” she grumbles, apparently not thrilled about whatever reason has her up and moving before noon. “I never understand how you can be so damn cheerful in the morning. It’s like we don’t even share the same gene pool.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “I love you too, baby sister, and it’s called caffeine. Now what’s up?”
“I’ve got a tattoo expo at the Atlanta Convention Center from noon to eight,” she explains. “Afterwards, a bunch of people are going out to the grand opening of Hashtag, a new bar that’s opened up there, and I was wondering if you wanted to meet me.”
Without even thinking twice, I jump at the chance. “Absolutely. What time?”
“A bit lonely without the boys, are we?” She chuckles. “Meet me there at nine. Don’t drive; either call a cab or Uber it. Dress casual and I’ll text you the address.”
“Sounds good.” I smile into the phone. “See you tonight.”
The day seems to go by a little quicker after that, knowing I at least have something to look forward to. After a solid hour of cardio at the gym, I stop by the mall to find something to wear, since I’m still in the process of rebuilding my smaller-sized wardrobe. Plus, I might as well spend Mark’s money while I can. I’ve got another year and a half of alimony heading my way, and since the house and Tahoe are paid off, I’ve been saving up most of the money he’s forced to send me each month.
So here I am, wandering around aimlessly from store to store, unsure of what casual means in Stella-speak. Something tells me my idea and her idea of the word’s definition are two very different things. Finally, I break down inside one of the shops and ask one of the young sales associates to help me.
After explaining where I’m going and how I’ve been out of the fashion-loop for the last twenty years or so, which is probably way more information than she cared about, she helps me put together an ensemble I never would’ve come up with in a million years, but surprisingly, when I put it on, it looks great.
The bottoms are worn-looking, skin-tight jeans, which are surprisingly comfortable due to the two percent of lycra mixed in with the cotton, and not to mention, they make my butt look really cute. Paired with them is a solid white, sleeveless blouse made out of a bunch of strips of fabric tied together. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, but it’s eye-catching without being revealing, and it fits me perfectly. She explains that because the outfit is pretty basic, I can set how dressy or casual I want to make it, depending on the shoes and accessories I choose. She may as well be speaking a foreign language to me, but I nod and smile, just happy to have found something I like.
Happily, I’m waiting in line to check out with my purchases when my phone chimes inside my purse. Finally fishing it out of the bottomless black hole, I pull it out and accept the call without even looking at the caller ID.
“Hello,” I answer a bit frustrated.
“Hey, Mia,” Jonathan’s voice greets me on the other end. “Is this a bad time? I can call back later if you’d prefer.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I just couldn’t find my phone in my purse. I thought I was going to miss the call,” I explain, not wanting him to think I’m irritated with him at all.
I can hear him exhale with relief through the phone. “Oh, okay,” he says, pausing for a second before continuing. “Please know I typically don’t do this with artists I work with, but I’d just kick myself if I didn’t at least ask.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, confused.
“I’m calling to see if you’d possibly like to join me for a late dinner tonight. The gallery has an earlier-than-usual show, and I’d be happy to drive to Athens to meet you late, if you can or if you want to. If not, that’s okay too,” he rambles without stopping for a breath.
I laugh softly at his nervousness. Jonathan Evans does not strike me as a nervous guy. “Actually, I have plans to meet my sister in the city tonight at a grand opening for some bar.”
“Oh, you’re going to be here? That’s great. What’s the name of the bar?”
Damn it. My statement was meant to deter him from pursuing this, letting him know I already had plans. I wasn’t expecting him to want to meet me there, but how can I say that now without being rude and making things really awkward between us? Ugh.
“I think she said it’s called Hashtag. I don’t know much about it, except a group of her tattoo artist friends are going after an expo they’re having this afternoon.” There. Maybe throwing in the whole tattoo artists thing will discourage him. He’s definitely doesn’t fit in with that kind of crowd…not that I do either, but that’s neither here nor there.
“Okay, I’ll see what I can find out about it and I may meet you there, all of it depending on what time I get MEG shut down.”
“Okay,” I reply, thankful he sounds a bit more doubtful now. “If I don’t see you tonight, then we’ll talk soon.”
We exchange our goodbyes just as it’s my turn to pay for my clothes. As the girl is ringing me up, I say a silent prayer he doesn’t show. I know whatever’s going on between Gray and me isn’t serious, but for some reason, I don’t think he’d like knowing I’m going out with Jonathan while he’s out having a guys’ weekend.
The taxi pulls up outside the red-brick building at fifteen after nine. After paying the driver, I climb out of the car, only to find a line to get in wrapped around the building. Awesome.
I text Stella to let her know I’m here, and before I reach the end of the queue, I hear my sister’s voice calling my name. Spinning around, I see her up by the doorman, motioning with her hand for me to skip in front of all of these poor souls, who are battling heat stroke on this sweltering summer night, all just to get inside this bar.
Without making eye contact with any of them, I scurry across the concrete in my black ankle boots until I’m safely inside the building with my sister. At first, we just stand there silently, me scanning the small space, checking out the cool eclectic artwork donning the walls and the back of the bar, while Stella’s eyes look me up and down.
“My dear sister, where did you get these clothes? You look amazing,” she exclaims in my ear.
I smile warmly at her, knowing she doesn’t just throw compliments out. “I went shopping today. I wasn’t sure what you meant by casual.”
Throwing her arm around my shoulders, she kisses my cheek, obviously having already downed a couple of drinks. “Well, you nailed it, Beautiful. Let me introduce you to my friends, but keep your hands off the babies. They’re much more fragile than they let on. I know how you like the young cock, now that you’ve had a taste.”
“Young cock?!?” I scream, naturally right when the song blaring through the speakers comes to an end and before the next one begins.
Everyone standing in a six foot radius turns to stare at us, but instead of it phasing Stella, she simply smiles and blows kisses at all of them, then grabs my hand and pulls me through the throng of people to where her frie
nds have taken over a couple of tables at the back of the room.
“Hey, guys,” she announces as we join the small crowd of people. “This is my older sister, Mia, and in case you didn’t hear her announcement when we walked in, she likes young cock.”
Oh my fucking God, please tell me she didn’t just say that. I was wrong. She doesn’t love me; she loves to torture me, to humiliate and embarrass me every chance she gets. I’m going to kill her.
She grins and hugs me close to her as if she has no idea of the words that tumbled from her mouth mere seconds ago. “She’s my bestest friend in the whole wide world, and y’all have to love her, even if she doesn’t have any tattoos.”
Okay, maybe I won’t kill her, but I will make her pay for this. Somehow, someway.
“Stella, I thought it was you who liked the young cock, ever since you got your groove back,” one of the guys jokes, referring to the old Angela Bassett and Taye Diggs movie.
Flashing a wicked smirk, she shakes her head before doing some dance move that’s only missing a pole and flashing lights. “Drake, baby, you know better than that. This Stella never lost her groove.”
Drake? That name sounds familiar, but I’m too thrown off kilter from everything else regarding young cocks and lost grooves that I can’t remember why.
While everyone else is still laughing at my sister’s antics, I sneak away, making a mad dash for the bar. I’m going to need several drinks to catch up with the rest of them.
I squirm through the crowd of people, finally making it up to the wooden bar top, where a cute, twenty-something bartender is waiting to take my order.
“Shot of Patron and a double Crown and Seven, please,” I call out over the loud music. Yes, it’s a night that calls for hard liquor and quite a bit of it, especially since I’m not driving and have absolutely nothing to do tomorrow.
He tips his head in acknowledgement before turning around to grab a shot glass and a rocks glass. A couple of minutes later, he slides both the shot and the mixed drink in my direction, but when I try to hand him cash, he shakes me off.
“No need, sweets. That guy right over there said this round was on him.” My eyes follow his finger to where he’s pointing, and my gaze is met with none other than Jonathan Evans’, who is leaning against the bar with a cocky grin plastered across his face.
Sometime later, I have no idea what time it is due to the endless shots and drinks that have been shoved into my hands throughout the night, Stella announces it’s time to leave.
“Come on, sis. Let’s Uber you a car. My guys are about to head out,” she says, patting my shoulder softly from behind, “and we’ve still gotta take all the supplies back to the shop.”
Jonathan, who’s fit in surprisingly well with Stella’s group of friends—apparently he’s not nearly as conservative as I assumed—walks over to us, shaking his head. “I’ll take her home. She doesn’t need to be traveling back to Athens alone at this time of night.”
“Are you sure?” my sister asks hesitantly. “That’s gotta be completely out of your way.”
“Positive. I need to make sure my up-and-coming star stays safe.” Smiling, he reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, allowing his finger to linger a few extra seconds against my skin. “I purposely only had a couple of beers, ‘cause I knew I’d be driving. It’s really no big deal.”
“Okay, I really appreciate it. She’s not used to drinking this much, and Adam and Grayson are out of town, so she’ll probably need help into the house.”
Pounding my fist down on the table, I snarl at both of them. “Stop talking about me like I’m not sitting right here. I’m perfectly capable of getting myself home,” I snap grouchily.
Okay, maybe it was a little more of a slur than a snap, but it was definitely grouchy.
They exchange a look, then both bust out laughing, which irritates me even more. I scrape the stool angrily across the tile and hop off, wobbling a little when my feet hit the floor. Jonathan’s arms shoot out to catch me, his hands grasping my hips as he steadies me against him.
“I’m taking you home, Mia. No point in arguing,” he grumbles low in my ear.
I suck in a deep breath at his closeness, suddenly feeling faint, and nod my head. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”
After a quick round of goodbyes, which includes Stella whispering something to me about not forgetting to use protection, Jonathan whisks me by the hand out of the bar and into his black sedan so quickly I can barely feel my legs moving beneath me. He opens my door, helps me into the seat—help I don’t need—and even buckles my seatbelt for me—also something I totally could’ve done myself.
Seeing him fold into the driver’s seat is the last thing I remember before he’s lifting me out of my seat, carrying me toward my front door. He lowers my feet to the ground so I can dig my keys out of my purse.
“You want to come in for a cup of coffee?” I ask politely as I unlock and open the door; the nap in the car seemingly sobered me up a little.
“I’d love to, but I’ve got over an hour drive home and it’s almost two in the morning,” he replies with a soft, sleepy smile.
“You should just stay here.” The words fly out of my mouth before I realize what I’m saying and how it sounds. Immediately, I start floundering, trying to fix the situation. “I mean, you can sleep in my bed, and I’ll stay in one of the boys’ rooms or on the couch. I just don’t want you to fall asleep at the wheel and wreck, all because you had to bring me—”
His lips landing on mine shuts me up, startling me as I bring my hands up to his shoulders to push away. Keeping me close, he cups my face and slips his tongue in my mouth as I open it to tell him this isn’t a good idea.
I close my eyes only for a brief moment, surrendering to the sheer joy of feeling desired, and allow him to kiss me, but almost instantly, Gray’s image pops in my head and I jerk away, ripping my mouth from his.
“I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I can’t right now,” I say softly, slowly backing up into the house. “You’re more than welcome to stay the night here, but I just can’t do that...” My voice fades out without finishing the thought.
”No worries, Mia. I won’t rush you. Just know when you’re ready, I’m here.” He smiles understandingly, tenderly stroking my cheek with the back of his knuckles. “I think it’s best if I head home though; sleeping under the same roof with you would be pure torture. ‘Cause now that I know how sweet the apple tastes, there’s no way I’ll be able to resist the temptation.”
Unsure what to say, I fix my stare on the ground, chewing my lip nervously. “I don’t want this to mess up anything with us professionally,” I admit quietly.
“Never. You have my word,” he replies assuredly. “Goodnight, Mia. I’ll be in touch soon.”
I stand in the doorway and watch as he retreats to his car, giving one last wave before disappearing behind the tinted windows. As soon as he pulls out of the drive, I rush inside, strip out of my clothes, and scrub my entire body under a scalding shower until it hurts. I desperately need to get rid of his smell, the taste of his mouth, everything about tonight.
Once I’m satisfied I’ve done everything I can possibly do, I wander into Gray’s room, find one of his t-shirts I can sleep in, and crawl into his bed. Surrounded by his belongings, enveloped in his scent, the memories of us together fill my mind, playing back like my most erotic dream.
I lie there, thinking about what he’s doing at this exact moment, wondering if he’s thinking about me, until I drift off into a deep, guilt-ridden sleep.
When we pull up to the house Monday afternoon, all I want to do is go and find Mia to show her how much I missed her, to kiss her hard with her body wrapped around mine, to tell her she’s ruined me for hot, leggy redheads for life.
But I don’t for obvious reasons.
Instead, Adam and I begin to sluggishly unpack the car, exhausted from drinking too much beer, spending excessive amounts of time in the sun, and sleeping the past thr
ee nights on air mattresses in tents. Only I did a lot more sleeping than he did. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sierra shows up around the house again; he seemed to really enjoy exploring her tattoos…with his tongue.
As soon as we open the front door, Mia emerges from her studio in her usual painting clothes—a camisole and ass-hugging yoga pants. There’s a smear of green paint streaked down her neck and across her chest, which draws my eyes directly to her perky breasts, where it’s more than obvious she’s not wearing a bra.
Instantaneously, my dick hardens in my shorts as all of the blood in my body begins to flow to feed the primal craving. I have to keep myself from falling to my knees to praise the heavens for a functioning cock, and if I just saw that right, her eyes most definitely dipped down to check out my package. Yes, I’m ready for you, Love.
“Hey, guys,” she says with a cheery smile. “Do y’all need help unloading anything? Are you hungry?”
Fuck yes, you can help me unload about four or five loads of pent up sexual frustration, and now that you mention it, I’m starving for a taste of every inch of you.
“We’ve got the truck, Mom, but if you don’t mind throwing together a quick bite for us, we’d greatly appreciate it,” Adam replies, setting down his duffel bag on the bottom landing of the staircase before heading back outside to grab more.
Neither she nor I move. I can feel the heat from her stare clear across the entryway, and I’m pretty damn positive she feels mine. I know I need to go help my friend, but damn I want to touch her.
“Tonight,” I growl brusquely.
She nods once in response, both of us understanding the risk we’ll be taking, but neither of us able to wait any longer. It pleases me to no end to discover the past few days apart have been wearing on her like they have on me. But after tonight, all will be right with the world again…and with my dick.