He takes my hand, pulls me back to the wall and leans me gently against it. My hands go instinctively to his shirt, running my palms over his sculpted body and I sigh. He dips his head, his curls falling softly around his face, waiting for me to explain.
‘Carter, I have to leave. That’s my underage cousin and if I don’t get her out of here, serious shit is going to hit the fan tomorrow.’ I don’t elaborate any further. Regan’s not my cousin, but now is not the time to be explaining my family dynamic. All Carter needs to know is the reason that I have to leave and my eyes feel glossy as I stare up at him. He gives me a rueful smile and dips his lips to mine, brushing my mouth softly for a moment. I close my eyes briefly when the sparks fly.
‘That’s a shame,’ he murmurs against my mouth, before dipping his head and kissing my neck again. I shiver when he gets close to my ear, but thankfully it’s easier to hear him. ‘Can I have your number? I’d really love to see you again,’ he murmurs and despite the fact that my perfect night out has bombed, a warm thrill shivers through me. He wants to see me again, he’s asked for my number.
I push my hands through his soft hair and he lifts his head, his verdant eyes locked with mine. He looks anxious as he waits for my answer. I really have no idea why. The man must know that I’m drunk on him, I was kissing him so hard five minutes ago I was trying to inhale him. He cocks his head now and bites his lip.
‘Okay,’ I murmur up at him shyly and his face breaks out into his beautiful blinding smile. He moves a half step back from me, hauling a black iPhone out of his pocket and waking it up. I recite my number and a few seconds later, I hear my own phone’s muffled singing from my bag. He shoves it back into his pocket before leaning forward again, planting his right palm on the wall beside my face.
‘Can I kiss you again, before you leave?’ he murmurs, lifting an eyebrow and I nod eagerly, looping my arms around his neck. He shoves me up against the wall with his long, lithe body, hard, his hand coming up to softly grip the back of my head as he begins to kiss me again.
This time, his mouth is soft and tender, his lips moving slowly over my own as our tongues collide in languid strokes. It’s so different from his previous kisses, but just as intoxicating and I’m groaning into his mouth within thirty seconds. He regretfully pulls away, kissing the corner of my mouth and then the tip of my nose softly. I’m both grateful and sorry… if he doesn’t stop, I’m never going to leave. He takes a step back and picks up my hand, kissing my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine.
‘I’m Carter Jackson, by the way,’ he says, grinning and I beam up at him. My arms are back around his neck, I don’t want to let him go.
‘Pearl Harrison,’ I reply, leaning forward to kiss him once more, briefly and his eyes close slowly when I sweep my tongue over his generous lower lip. He runs a hand through his unruly hair and finally takes a step back from me.
‘I’ll give you a call,’ he says, but before I can reply, he pivots away from me and is lost in the heaving, sweaty crowd. I square my shoulders, focussing on the situation that I have to deal with. My anger comes flooding back again as I slope dejectedly towards Regan and Gemma.
Gemma looks at me appraisingly, a glint in her light blue eyes. She’s itching to ask me for details about the prime specimen of manhood that I’ve so evidently bagged, but she knows now is not the time. I grind my teeth as I stare at Regan. She’s still looking mutinous, and she’s chewing her lip. I seriously hope for her sake that she’s not about to launch an argument for letting her stay here tonight, because it ain’t happening and the mood I’m now in, I’m likely to say something that I’m going to regret. I tip my chin at her.
‘We’re leaving. Do not give me any grief, Regan, because if you do, I’m going to speak to Justin.’
I march away from her, towards the lobby of the club. I don’t look behind me but I know she’s coming, I can sense it. When I reach the double doors, I shove them open and wait for her to catch up with me. I stand, arms folded. It’s quieter here and we can at least have a conversation without shouting in each other’s faces.
‘Look, Pearl – this may come as a surprise to you and I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re not my fucking mother and you are not responsible for my actions! If I want to come clubbing then I will – I don’t need you!’
I give her a scornful snort. ‘Where’s your mates, then? Or are you in the habit of coming out alone? Bold move for a sixteen year old, Rags.’ I swipe a hand wearily over my face. I sometimes hate Facebook with a flaming passion.
‘Look, Regan, I’m not in the mood for fucking about. I’m tired, a bit drunk and extremely pissed off at what you’ve done, so let’s just leave this here and find a cab so I can get you home.’ A beat. ‘How have you even managed to sneak out past Dan and Jess anyway?’
She shakes her head, looking down at her feet again. ‘I’m staying at Beth’s. Her parents are away.’
‘Super. Fine – I’ll drop you off there then and go home.’ I take a step past her, moving to push open the outer doors to the club but she catches hold of my arm, stopping me.
‘Pearl, I’m really sorry. I didn’t want to spoil your night, I was just really disappointed. I’ve been looking forward to this for three weeks.’
Her words scratch at my brain as I remember that I’m partially the author of my own misfortune here. Had I been frank with her at the first available opportunity, then this wouldn’t have happened. I can understand her disappointment and I did that to her. I take her hand, giving it a soft squeeze.
‘It’s alright. I’m a bit tired, anyway,’ I say, pulling her with me and we walk out of the club onto the pavement. There’s no queue now, two large doormen talking quietly near a roped off area and I link arms with Regan as the burly one of the pair licks his lips as he stares at her. I know I’m doing the right thing here.
Regan shivers in the cold night air. I’m not surprised, the dress she’s wearing is like a piece of tinfoil and she’s not wearing a bra. Just as I’m about to head off down the street in search of the nearest rank, a piercing whistle makes me stop in my tracks and I turn to look behind me. Shock and panic sweep through me when I see who’s approaching.
Dillon and Nat. Shit.
I’d completely forgotten that they were joining us, Justin’s words about them being late and I swallow hard. Dillon’s going to take one look at Regan and tell Justin and there’s a bemused expression on his face as he reaches us.
I love Dillon Walker. In fact, I’m secretly romantically love with him, just a little, although I’d never admit it to another soul. He’s closer to my age than Justin and, although not as incredibly good looking as his older brother, he’s still extremely hot. In the past, I’ve found myself wishing wistfully that he wasn’t with Nat. I’m also ashamed to say that in the last six months, I’ve had the odd erotic dream about him, my mind imagining his body naked and gleaming with sweat above me, which has made me blush when I’ve seen him at The Guardian the next day. He gives me a smile.
‘Pearl, what’s up? Where are you going?’
I open my mouth to reply, but then he turns to Regan. He looks at her blankly for a moment, but then shock slaps him and his mouth drops open.
‘Jesus, Regan? What the hell…?’
‘Yeah, Dill – what the hell. I’m taking her home. This is partly my fault, I kind of promised her that she could come out with us tonight and then reneged when I realised what would happen when Justin found out. She came anyway.’
Dillon looks Regan up and down, giving a low whistle.
‘You look incredible, Rags – but Pearl’s right. This isn’t the place for you, at your age and looking like that.’ He gives her a cool look. ‘Especially after what happened two years ago, honey. Think of what it would do to your mum, granddad and Justin if anyone touched you?’
Regan nods, crestfallen now, Dillon shoving his hand through his short blond hair. Nat’s standing next to him and she gives Regan a sympathetic look. Dillon turns to me.
‘Look, it’s your eighteenth – leave this with me. I’ll get Regan home and I’ll be back in half an hour.’ He turns to Nat, giving her a gentle kiss. ‘You go with Pearl and I’ll see you in there as soon as I’ve dropped Regan off, alright?’
God bless you, Dillon Walker, you wonderful man…
Excitement sweeps through me as I realise what this means. My night out isn’t over after all and I am going to go back into the awful dark nightclub and find him. Carry on where we left off, finish what we started and see where it takes us. I feel connected to this man and despite having absolutely nothing to benchmark him against, I know that what he’s made me feel is extraordinary. I can tell by comparing him to Aaron. Just the feel of Carter’s body under my hands, his warm sweet breath in my mouth, the touch of his lips on mine… oh God. I’m thrumming again just thinking about it.
I beam at Dillon. ‘I owe you. Thanks.’
‘Behave!’ He leans forward and kisses my cheek. ‘Happy birthday, by the way!’ He gives Regan a playful shove in the shoulder. ‘Come on, Jailbait… another eighteen months and you’ll be able to do this legitimately!’
She gives us all a wobbly smile and a wave, wandering off with Dillon, her shoulders slumped. Bless her. Regan doesn’t have a bad bone in her body, and I pang again that I’ve done this to her tonight. I turn to Nat, who beams at me, leaning forward and kissing my cheek.
‘You look incredible! Have you had a good night so far?’
I grin back at her, my smile megawatt. ‘Oh yeah, I really have.’ I don’t elaborate further, I haven’t got time to stand here freezing and telling Nat all about the delectable Carter Jackson. All I need to do is get my backside in there again and find him. I can introduce him to my friends before dragging him away to a dark corner somewhere for the rest of the evening. Extremely ignorant of me, given the fact that we’re all out to celebrate my birthday, but I actually don’t give a toss. It’s my birthday and if I want to spend it getting to know the gorgeous man who’s captured something inside me, then I will.
Five
Nat and I hurry over to the club, the doorman giving my wristband a cursory glance before letting me back in. As Nat pays and shoves her purse back into her bag I pause next to the doors to the club and warn her.
‘It’s like the black hole of Calcutta in here, by the way!’ I grin, but it starts to slide off my face as I push the doors open. I realise that unless I’m lucky enough to find Carter hanging around near one of the bars, there’s a very real chance that I’m not going to find him in here. I take Nat’s hand as I make my way through the throngs of gathered people towards the sofas where my friends will be. I’m never coming in here again. The atmosphere is bordering on malevolent. You could be physically assaulted and not have a clue who’d done it.
We reach the others and three surprised but pleased faces tip to look at us, Aaron’s breaking into a huge smile when he sees that I’m back. I’ve made his night evidently and I suddenly realise that I might have potential problems coming here. I know Aaron still has feelings for me, I can read him like a book. It’s in his eyes, the tone of his voice, even the way he moves around me. Introducing Carter to him isn’t going to impress him in the slightest, especially when he gets a good look at him.
Gemma gets up to give Nat a hug and I explain quickly why I’m back and where Dillon is. Aaron stands with Donna and retreats to the bar for a round of drinks, Gemma and Nat taking a seat beside me and we chat in loud voices until the others return. I take my cold glass of wine and sip it gratefully, glancing at my watch. I’ll drink this and then go and circle the club, find him. I don’t want to dash off after just arriving back, but the sooner I find him, the better I’ll feel. Every time I think about him, I ache.
I try to make the wine last, I want to neck it in four long swallows, but after twenty minutes, I grab my bag and stand, as nonchalantly as I can. I can’t tell them what I’m up to, I could just imagine the looks on their faces. I’ll say I’m going to the toilet, there’s bound to be a queue anyway. I just hope no one wants to come with me.
I’m in luck, as there are no takers and, telling them all that I’ll be back soon, I step away from the sofas, making for the bar to my left hand side. I’ll walk the perimeter first, and hope that he’s near one of these welcome areas of light. He was with his mates, I remember one of them shouting to him when we were at the bar, telling him he’d been served.
The music’s a little dark and heavy in here for my liking, a lot of pounding bass and my head swivels from left to right as I push gently through the groups of people clustered by the first bar. Carter’s tall, six feet at least with distinctive hair, if he’s here, I should be able to spot him. Disappointment starts to thump when I don’t.
I move away from the dimly lit bar and grope my way through the gloom towards the one at the back end of the club, threading my way through shadows and silhouettes. There are people everywhere, but I can’t tell if they’re male or female and if Carter is standing in a group here, talking and drinking in the dark, I’ve no chance of spotting him. I could activate my phone torch, but I can’t start shining that into strangers’ faces. It’s weird and I’ll probably get knocked out. My anxiety and disappointment starts to mount however, when I reach the third bar without any sign of him at all and I stand, my hand on my hip, wondering what to do.
He might be on the dancefloor?
Possibly. But if he is, there’s no point in me going to look for him. I thought nightclubs were full of bright flashing coloured lights, strobes and glitterballs. All this place has are three weak green lasers, making the black cut-outs of clubbers on the dancefloor twitch and jerk like they’ve been electrocuted. Nah – I’m not going on there looking for him.
My mood finally dropping to my boots and my heart sinking, I retrace my steps hopefully, skirting the bars again, hoping that he might be there now, but there’s no sign of him at all. I realise that he might not even be in here now – perhaps he and his mates were of the same mind as me and have gone to find somewhere else, somewhere they can actually see other flaming people. I make my way dejectedly back to the sofas.
Some kindly soul has refreshed my wine since I’ve been gone and I pick up the chilly glass as I slump in the leather seat, raising it in thanks. I drain half of it, thinking.
You’ve got his number. Call him in the morning?
But I know I won’t. Tomorrow morning, I will be a sober, hungover virgin again, with no self-confidence or experience in dealing with powerful sexual attraction, let alone factoring in a man who looks like Carter Jackson. He’s way out of my league and now I’m apart from him, am no longer running my hands over his hard body or connected to his mouth, the rational side of my brain switches into self-preservation mode.
Alright, so he called you beautiful and kissed you. He’s probably over in the far corner somewhere, doing exactly the same thing with another girl right now. You’ve probably had a very lucky escape.
I remember my thoughts over by the bar, when he leaned in to kiss me for the first time and I pulled away. That he’d hurt me, steal my heart and then grind it to dust under his boot when he became bored, dumped me and moved onto the next. He managed to obliterate these sensibilities as soon as his body touched mine, but I need to be strong here.
I’ll never forget him, in as much as he’s the first man who has ever really kissed me, touched my face and my body, groaned my name. But becoming attached to him, or even trying to contact him again is an extremely bad idea. Kissing him was the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me and I twitch softly between my legs as I remember the feelings that his mouth ignited in me. At least I’ll know what to do the next time a man kisses me, five minutes kissing Carter Jackson has educated me.
We chat as a group for the next three quarters of an hour, Dillon arriving and buying another round of drinks. He gave me a smile and a thumbs up when he arrived, telling me without words that Regan had been delivered safely back to Beth’s. I mu
st ring her tomorrow. I can’t let what happened tonight fester between us, this is the fault of both of us. Regan and I have an amazing relationship though and I’m confident that we can sort it out.
I lean back on the sofa cushions, closing my eyes. I’ve had enough now and I glance at my watch. It’s nearly one, not that late at all, but I shouldn’t really have had that last glass of wine. I am a novice drinker, and I’ve also eaten nothing. I wonder briefly why we didn’t go for a pizza before coming out and now I wish we had. I can’t eat now, I’m starting to feel a bit sick and I need to go home.
‘Hey, look – I’m really sorry to be a party-pooper but I’m not used to drinking and I’ve had one too many,’ I say, leaning forwards and looking at my group of friends. ‘I’m gonna go – I hope you don’t mind? I need to get to bed.’
Aaron immediately stands up. ‘I’ll take you, Pearl,’ he says quickly but I shake my head, waving him back down into his seat.
‘Aaron, seriously – thanks, but I’m fine. I’m just going to get a cab – you live in the opposite direction!’ His grey eyes lock with mine. He doesn’t give a toss about that, would probably pay thirty quid in cab fare if it meant that he could accompany me home and I feel a shiver suddenly. I get the strangest feeling that there’s a slight ulterior motive there, too. He knows I’m pissed and he’s hoping that I might let my guard down, invite him up to my flat for a nightcap. He’s no chance and I need to disabuse him of this notion that he has, that one day, he and I will get back together. It isn’t going to happen, especially not after what I’ve experienced tonight. Even if I never see Carter again, and in all likelihood I won’t, the mild intimacy that I shared with him tonight has only reinforced the fact that Aaron and I can never be together. The difference in what the two men did to me has blown my mind.
Aaron stays standing and I sigh. He’s evidently not going to give this up without a fight.
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