“I’m serious, Michelle.” Luna points two fingers at my eyes and back at her own. “Be the ball. You can do it. I believe in you. Get that tax man dick.”
“I’ll do what I can,” I say, just to shut her up. But as I relax on our sofa, sipping wine, and remembering the heat in his eyes as he leaned over the table, and the way those long fingers looked curled around the handle of his knife, I can’t stop wishing it will happen for us. Someday.
“Hmmbbblltt?” Aaron says around the pencil in his mouth.
I click my tongue and take the pencil from between his lips, feeling a little flustered. “What was that?”
“Weinbart’s trust,” Aaron says. He stretches his mouth a little.
“I’m on the healthcare initiative,” I murmur, tapping away at my laptop.
“You don’t have to finish it tonight,” Aaron says. He stands and stretches and I surreptitiously glance up just to watch.
It’s another late night in the office. Mr. Weinbart is one of our most persnickety clients. In fact, I’m pretty certain that if you looked up the word ‘persnickety’ in the dictionary, you would see a picture of his ferret-like face on the page.
On the upside, it means long nights at Aaron’s side whenever Weinbart wants something else.
On the downside, it means long nights at Aaron’s side and his stupid stubbled chin, and his friendly chatter, and his long fingers absently stroking his face every once in a while.
That’s not to mention that I’ve had Luna’s voice in my head telling me to bone him all day. I’m not sure if she’s an angel or a devil on my shoulder.
Aaron grunts and reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. I try to focus on the trust documents, pounding out the tax language that we’ll then send to the lawyer. I hear Aaron grunt beside me. I know his brothers text him a lot. Sometimes Aaron tells me about them, how Xander is the oldest and bosses everyone around and how he’s the youngest and gets the brunt of unwanted advice. But he says it with a smile on his face. He’s close to his brothers, which I think is sweet. They go running together apparently. Once Aaron mentioned going on runs with his brothers in the woods and then seemed sort of embarrassed about it but it sounded like the kind of childlike thing you do when you visit family. I suppose they go hunting together. I’ve never been into the hunting thing myself, but Aaron is kind and responsible so I’m sure he hunts in a responsible manner too.
“My brother’s annoying,” Aaron mumbles as he plops back down in his chair.
“Which one is it this time?” I say, tapping my pen against my lips as I stare at my laptop.
“Xander,” Aaron says in a kind of goofy voice. It’s funny how some people really do resort to acting like teenagers when it comes to family. “It’s always Xander. It’s just...we meet up once a month, always at the same time and we’ve been doing that since we were kids and he still acts like I’m going to forget. I mean he sends reminders to everybody but I think it’s mostly for my benefit just because I’m the youngest.”
I glance over and see Aaron trill his lips, his eyes big. I have to stifle a laugh. “You’re funny when you talk about your brothers,” I say, grinning and tapping my pen on my teeth. I have to do something with my teeth because I have this weird urge to bite Aaron sometimes. For some reason I imagine he would like that. “You get goofy and you’re never goofy.”
Aaron looks mildly offended but in a good natured way. “Goofy,” he says, nodding. “That’s great, I’m goofy now.”
“I think it’s endearing,” I say in a little sing-song voice.
We smile at each other and it feels weird again. I bite hard on the end of my pen and see Aaron eyelids get heavy.
Be the ball!
“You want to go for a drink after this?” I say. “Just casual. No big deal. I always need to unwind after a day like today and my roommate can be kind of intense. But if you can’t, it’s fine, or if you’re just tired, I mean it’s not a big deal-”
“Yeah,” Aaron says, cutting me off. “I’d love to.”
Aaron and I are drunk. Or rather, we’re not wasted, but we’re definitely buzzed. I’m glad to say that I’m definitely clear headed enough to still be overthinking everything even as Aaron’s chair is pushed up next to mine at the little table in the divey bar we decided to go to.
Quinton isn’t a huge city but it’s got just enough variety. It’s also close enough to highways frequented by truckers that a place like this gets an interesting crowd. Aaron brought me here, saying we might try something different after our fancy meal the day before. He has a sense of adventure that I’ve always kind of loved.
“Snake Eyes,” I say again, bursting into laughter. At this point, I’ve had enough vodka that everything seems funny. “I can’t believe you brought me to a place called Snake Eyes.”
There’s sawdust on the floor. There’s a dartboard on the wall. There are scraped up pool tables and the jukebox is wailing Patsy Cline. But for the typical divy ambiance, it’s got a pretty demographically diverse crowd. There are hipster types, other guys like Aaron in ties, and the burly bearded big buys that you’d expect to see in such a place.
“SNAKE EYES!” Aaron rumbles in a gravelly voice. He’s been doing that all night.
There have been shots.
I can feel the heat of his thigh pressed up against mine under the table. My inhibitions are lowered just enough that I feel braver than usual.
I was wearing a cami under my jacket but it’s warm in here so I’ve taken the jacket off and I practically feel naked. It’s not exactly scandalous, but I’m just not in the habit of showing very much skin at work and when I do I’m a little more subtle about it.
I don’t care now though. I lean on my hand, facing Aaron, entranced by his icy blue eyes that glimmer even in the low light of the bar. A lock of black hair falls over one eye and I reach over to push it back, hearing him inhale.
“Do you like this place?” Aaron says. He bites his lip, leaning forward a little, one hand wrapped around a beer bottle, fidgeting with the label. His voice is husky.
I flash on an image of him eating me out, burying his face between my legs. I bet he’s amazing at that.
“I love it.” I shrug when I say it and the thin strap of my cami slips off my shoulder.
Aaron reaches over and with agonizing slowness, fixes the strap, his finger curling around the fabric as he brings it up, his eyes trained on me. His finger tip brushes my skin and I can’t breathe. If that’s what this is like…
Aaron swallows but doesn’t look away. When he drops his hand, I bite my lip and shrug again so it slips back down.
Aaron’s eyelashes flutter and he says, “Michelle…”
“I’m gonna go to the restroom,” I say softly. “Maybe I’ll see you in there.”
I’m not exactly a virgin but I’ve definitely never propositioned anyone for a bathroom quickie in a dive bar before. It should be skeezy, but it’s Aaron. Everything only feels sexy with Aaron.
I rise from my seat and let my hand stroke the line of his shoulders. He’s taken off his jacket too and I can feel his tensed muscles under the thin material of his shirt. I take a slow walk to the back and swing my hips just a little bit.
I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. But in the bathroom, which is mercifically empty, I panic just a little bit. If he doesn’t come, it’s going to be mortifying. On the other hand, if he does, I better check myself in the mirror, which I do. These fluorescent lights aren’t amazing on the complexion. I feel like my freckles stand out too much sometimes, but I’ve also been told they’re cute. I lean over and fix my bra a little and run my hands through my hair.
He could come. He could be walking toward the door right this second with those broad shoulders and sexy forearms and long fingers. I want to tangle my hands in that mass of black hair so badly. Thinking of the possibilities is making me wet and I press my legs together, leaning on the counter.
I look at myself in the mirror. I’ve been b
iting my lips and they look reddened and swollen. My cheeks are flushed and my hair looks messy.
All at once the door pushes open and Aaron stalks inside, fists clenched at his side. There’s a lock on the door and with his eyes fixed on me, Aaron closes it and locks it behind his back.
This is happening. I can’t even breathe.
Aaron is damn near panting.
“I want you,” Aaron says. His voice has dropped so low he sounds like a different person and his voice is deep to begin with. He walks slowly toward me and my lips part in expectation. I turn towards him, leaning back against the counter. “I want to be inside you.”
“Aaron,” I whisper, just as he steps into my space, close enough to kiss but holding back until I answer him. “Please, Aaron-”
Aaron has several inches on me and now he ducks his head and his lips barely brush mine. He presses the tip of his thumb to my bottom lip and slides it slowly down my chin, then the line of my throat, to the cleft between my breasts.
“Do you know what you do to me, Michelle?” He whispers. “You drive me wild. Every single day.”
I tip my head up just a little, greedy for the taste of his mouth. “Why isn’t your tongue in my mouth?”
His mouth covers mine and then his arms are around me all at once. I moan at the sensation of his tongue tasting my bottom lip where his thumb just pressed. I reach up and press my palm to the back of his neck and curl my fingers in the thick mass of his dark hair. His skin is hot on mine and he presses against me as he plunders my mouth. I can feel his erection through his pants and I pull him closer.
It’s messy and passionate as Aaron’s teeth graze my neck and he shoves up my skirt. There’s no tender foreplay here and little preamble. There’s only Aaron grabbing me and moving me bodily against the wall as I scramble to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly. I gasp as he pulls down my panties and then he’s picking me up off the ground. I wrap my legs around him and I lean forward to kiss him before he enters me all once. I cry out and clap my hands to his face, biting hard on his bottom lip. Aaron groans at that as he thrusts into me, pressing me into the wall. I knew he would like biting and the thought makes me smile against his mouth before I cry out again, the feel of his hard cock filling me, making me see stars. He ducks his head, holding me up with one arm as his other hand comes up to yank down my cami and my bra so he can tease my breasts haphazardly. He bites my nipple just as he thrusts again and I throw my head back. He goes at me like that, finding a rhythm that has me dizzy and on the edge of pleasure before he drops me to the floor again. I spin around, hoping this was what he had in mind and he wraps an arm around me before yanking the back of my skirt up and he plunges in from behind.
“Fuck, Aaron, God…” It’s all I can manage to speak and Aaron’s teeth sink into my neck before his fingers reach lower, expertly finding my clit and circling, teasing, bringing me closer and closer to losing all my senses. Finally the trifecta of Aaron biting into my shoulder just as he fingers my clit and pounds me from behind has me nearly screaming. Aaron seems to foresee this and covers my mouth with his other hand, obviously more aware of the public situation we’ve found ourselves in than I am. I feel him come inside me, only giving himself away by breathing hotly in my ear and hissing my name.
I should be smarter than this. No condom, no birth control. How stupid are we? I never take that kind of risk but I’m not thinking, I’m not thinking of anything at all as Aaron kisses my shoulder and my neck, slowly still fingering me as we come down.
“God,” Aaron whispers. He gently pulls my panties back up and smooths down my skirt and when I turn around he pats down my hair. That bit of tenderness doesn’t make me like him any less. “I never lose control like that unless… I mean I try not to…”
“Don’t you dare be sorry,” I say, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “I know it matters to you but I don’t care that we work together right now. I’ve wanted you forever.”
“Me too,” Aaron murmurs. He kisses me so chastely then as if he wasn’t just pounding me up against the wall in a dive bar bathroom. “I still want you. I alway want you.”
“Then take me home tonight,” I say. My voice sounds so hoarse in his ear. He grasps my wrists and ducks his head, kissing the palm of my hand. “Don’t stop this here. Don’t ever stop.”
“Fuck. I don’t know how to say no to you,” Aaron whispers. And he kisses me again.
Chapter Four: Aaron
Michelle’s legs are wrapped around my naked body tightly, her strong thighs pulling me closer--as if I could possibly be any deeper inside her--and our lips brush as our breath mingles. Our sweat slicked bodies have been learning each other since we stumbled through the door. I can feel her tight around my cock and she convulses around me, making me cry out into her shoulder before I throw my head back. She licks a line up my throat and I rake my nails down her back. I have to be careful not to be too rough. She’s human. It can be tricky. Especially with a woman who brings the beast out of me like this. She’s come twice already since we got to my place but it’s not enough for Michelle. Now she rolls us over and straddles me, sitting up straight, her pert breasts proud. I can’t help but cup them in my hands, my thumbs rubbing circles into her pebbling nipples.
Michelle braces herself on my chest and rides me, her hair falling around her shoulders. Everything about her feels like a dream as I arch up into her, pulsing inside that perfect heat. She licks her bottom lip slowly, torturing me with the mirror sight of it and as she rides me she sticks two fingers in her mouth. She stares at me, so wanton and bold, and sucks on her fingers before sliding them down between her breasts, down to finger her clit as she rocks against me.
“You’re gonna kill me,” I mumble, and I grasp her ass in both hands and lose all sense of rhythm or control, practically levitating off the floor as I thrust and thrust and thrust and-
Michelle screams so loudly, I think she might wake up my my building. Her body goes so tight around me and I roar as I come, Michelle collapsing on top of me.
“Oh my God,” Michelle says. She’s a pile of jelly as she lies on top of me. We’re overly warm and sticky and sweaty but I don’t want to move. I rest my hands on her back, caressing her absently as we come back down to earth. “That was…”
“Fucking amazing,” I finish for her.
“Yes.”
We lie there, the two of us catching our breath in the post-coitel haze. Michelle slides down to one side of me and I feel a little loss as I pull out of her. But she curls up against me, slinging one arm over my chest.
“What is it you hunt?” Michelle mutters against my skin.
“Rabbits,” I say, curling a lock of her hair around my finger. That’s not in the least bit true. I mean I’ve killed rabbits while wolfed out but I usually go after much bigger game. A rabbit is like eating a few potato chips for me.
Michelle abruptly bursts out laughing and her eyes dance merrily as she looks up at me. “Rabbits? You hunt cute, innocent little rabbits?”
“Well, all animals are cute and innocent,” I say.
“Oh, really?” Michelle says, still laughing. “A scorpion is cute and innocent?”
“Well, cute is subjective,” I say, settling down in the sheets, enjoying the bizarre pillow talk. “But they’re definitely innocent.”
“So you and your brothers like to go hunting and running,” Michelle says.
“Yeah, that’s kinda our thing. I mean we also go out to nice dinners and talk about business-”
“No, no,” Michelle says, giggling. “Don’t ruin it. I like to think of you guys as these aristocratic jock types. Didn’t you grow up on a giant estate near the mountains? And go to Ivy Leagues?”
“Yeah,” I say, tittering. There’s definitely a shifter aristocracy within which my family enjoys a high status. We’re also loaded. It’s certainly helped throughout my life. Though when it comes to Michelle it only feels like an anchor around my neck. “That’s right.”
�
�I’ll bet you guys all wear your Yale sweaters and play rugby on the laws on weekends,” Michelle says, poking my belly.
“Hey look, this is Washington,” I say, only a little genuinely on the defensive. “It’s not Connecticut or something. What about you? What’s your family like?”
“Solidly middle-class from Seattle,” I say with a firm nod. “My dad died when I was sixteen-”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She’s smiling but I can see that little bit of pain that’s still there and it suddenly occurs to me how strange it is to work beside somebody for so long and not know the simplest things about them.
“It’s okay,” she says. “I just mean I’m really close to my mom. Even if she always thinks I’m not dressing warmly enough. It’s her favorite topic of conversation. She’s still in Seattle so I like to go visit sometimes, go out to whatever the big new restaurant is. She’s a huge foodie. And we watch a lot of movies together except she loves her tearjerkers and I only want happy endings.” She grins at that and I find myself automatically smiling in response.
Michelle clears her throat. There’s an unspoken bit of tension in the room. Eventually she’s going to need to go and neither of us wants the night to end. Unless I’m crazy, I feel like there’s a mutual understanding that this was one great night that can’t be repeated.
“Are you thirsty?” With a groan, I sit up, stretching. “Stay here. I’ll get you some water.”
“Thanks.”
Just that acknowledgement that she’ll stay a bit longer is a huge relief. It’s as if the world’s going to end when she walks out that door and we’re putting it off as long as possible. No wonder Michelle loves her happy endings. Real life is much too heartbreaking.
I don’t bother to put on clothes and I can feel Michelle’s eyes on my ass as I pad out to the kitchen and it makes me grin. I pour us two glasses of water with some ice and when I come back, Michelle is sitting up, naked in the sheets, as she thumbs through the photo album I keep on a bookshelf in my room.
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