by D. Kelly
Dave gives me a knowing look and pours the shot. “Okay, man, you’re all set. You’re already getting an audience behind you. If I were you, I would hit the girl in red—she’s a regular and used to the no strings thing. You got condoms this time, or do you need me to hit the bar stash again?”
Man, he really doesn’t forget a thing. “Nah, man, I’m good. I brought some this time. Last time, the airport lost my luggage and my condoms along with it; just another reason why I would rather drive.”
“I hear you. Just nod at me if you need another. I gotta get back to the other end of the bar.”
Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later, three girls walk up and sit next to me at the bar. One of them is stunning in a green, low-cut dress. Unfortunately, she looks a little like Katherine and is immediately not an option. There’s a cute girl in jeans, Chucks, and a nice button-down shirt. I would love to take her upstairs, but she’s shy, and shy girl equals needy girl. I don’t do needy girls; they’re too emotional and make me feel bad when I have to tell them I only want sex. I’m always honest, and it doesn’t always go over well, but I figure they should know the deal up front. The only exception to that was Misty and that’s a mistake that still weighs heavily on my mind. Another one to add to the “someday make amends” pile. That pile seems to be getting excessively large, but there’s no time to think about that right now.
The girl in red is the first one to speak to me. She’s got a throaty, sexy voice, and she oozes sex appeal. She definitely isn’t the most attractive of the three, but she’s in no way ugly. Giving her the onceover, I can tell immediately she’s confident, probably well off—judging by the designer “come fuck me” shoes she has on—and she definitely looks up for a good time. This is exactly the kind of girl I can tie up. Her rack is okay, but her ass is to die for. Her strawberry-blonde hair is from a bottle for sure, and she has big, expressive, brown eyes. She’s just the kind of distraction I need tonight.
“Hi, I’m Sara. Mind if I sit here next to you, or is your girlfriend in the restroom?” Smooth—getting the girlfriend question out of the way in the introduction. Yeah, this girl definitely gets around.
“Sure, Sara, have a seat. There’s no girlfriend, just me. Can I buy you and your friends a drink?” The girls giggle, and I flag Dave over to take their orders. “Bill them all to my room, okay, Dave? Whatever these three lovely ladies want is on me tonight.”
“Gotcha, Mike.”
“So, Mike, are you visiting, or do you live around here?”
I flash her a smile, showing off my dimples which tend to reel girls in. “I’m here for work but just for the weekend. I decided to come down to the bar and see what kind of trouble I can get myself into tonight.”
Sara’s friends are blushing and giggling, but Sara’s eyes are locked on mine—she’s definitely interested. “Well, I’m sure I can get you into all kinds of trouble if you’re interested.”
Nice. She doesn’t beat around the bush. Leaning in real close, I whisper to her, “I don’t play games, Sara. I’m not the kind of guy that will give you my number, and no matter how good you fuck me, that won’t change. What I will do is give you multiple orgasms and pay for your cab home if you want to come up to my room and let me fuck you senseless.”
Her cheeks flush with my words. She immediately pounds her drink and turns to her friends, and tells them she’ll meet up with them later. The girls thank me for the drinks and head off to the slots. When Sara turns my way, her eyes are burning with desire.
Dave comes back and brings me another double shot. “Damn, thirty minutes, where does the time go?” Sara shoots him an odd look, but I just laugh as he walks away. Guess I have fifteen minutes left on the clock.
“Mike, I like that you’re honest, so I’ll be honest as well. Here are the ground rules: I don’t need your number, I don’t even need you to remember my name. In fact, I might call you someone else’s name and you’re just going to have to be okay with it because old habits die hard. I don’t do anal, I won’t swallow unless it’s a relationship, and I won’t fuck without condoms. Deal?”
Hell yeah, that’s a deal and a huge turn on. I’ve never been with a girl who’s this up front. “Deal, let’s go.” I throw a fifty-dollar bill down for Dave and nod my head when he looks at me with admiration in his eyes as I walk off with Sara.
Walking to the elevators, I can feel the gin kicking in—definitely not drunk, but hella buzzed and feeling no pain. Sara is a class act, which is a welcome change. She isn’t groping me in the elevator, she’s not trying to hold my hand, and she isn’t trying to make out yet, all of which is fine with me. We exit the elevator and our fingers graze as we walk to my room at the end of the hall. After opening the door, I give her a few minutes to explore.
“Nice room, Mike. Not every guy splurges on a spa suite.”
Walking up to her from behind, I move her hair out of the way and kiss her neck. “Well, I like to have a nice room to bring the ladies back to. Sometimes they like to clean up after I get them dirty.”
Her body relaxes into mine, and I know I’ve got her right where I want her, so why do I suddenly feel nauseous? I’m sure it will pass. I turn her around and kiss her. Immediately, she thrusts her tongue into my mouth—it isn’t the biggest turn on, but whatever … different strokes for different folks. I back away and slow the kiss. It’s while I’m trailing a path of kisses along her neck to her earlobe, I’m struck by an overwhelming scent. An all too familiar smell—one I’ve missed so much—and now the nausea is coming in waves and I can’t hold it back anymore. Racing to the bathroom, I throw up repeatedly.
Sara is standing in the doorway. “Um, Sara, I’m really sorry but I think you better go.”
Looking down at me, she seems pissed. I can’t say I blame her. “Yeah, I think that’s a great idea. You didn’t seem drunk, but I hope you are because I don’t need to get the flu. Have a nice night, Mike.”
I hear the door close as I vomit again. Once I’m done emptying the contents of my stomach, I take my clothes off and lie down in bed.
I’m not sick and I’m not drunk, not even close, but the smell of gardenias was too much. How did I not notice it until now? The one weekend I need to have Katherine completely out of my head and away from my heart and she comes slamming back into my life like a hurricane in the form of some damn perfume. What the fuck? It all comes rolling back to me, and I curl up like a little kid and cry, finally letting it all out again after almost four years. I can feel all the emotions—how much I loved her, how what happened between us broke my heart, and how much I kick myself in the ass daily for ever letting my mom’s doubts consume my mind. I should’ve cooled down and apologized to her. I know I shattered her heart and soul. I was so cruel to her with the ring—taunting her, teasing her. Instead of throwing it in her face, I should’ve dropped to my knees and begged her to marry me. I should’ve told her life was too short, especially in light of what happened. I should’ve done a lot of things and I didn’t. I’m such a fucking dumbass.
I deserve this pain. I deserve to ache for the one girl who ever loved me, the one I loved with all my heart and soul. I miss her so much. I just want her back. I want us back. I’ve spent three years in denial, three long years missing her and acting like a fool. I don’t know if it’s too late, but when I get home I’m going to make some serious changes. I’m going to finally call my mom back, but not until I talk to Katherine, not until I make this right. I have only ever wanted one girl. From the first day I met her in second grade I knew I would marry her someday.
When I get home, I’ll talk to Daniel; he’ll help me figure this all out. If there’s anyone who won’t judge me it will be him. Daniel already knows how I am with women, he just doesn’t know the reason why. He doesn’t know I just use them to try and forget just for a little while. I don’t let them in—any of them—because my heart isn’t there, not anymore. I gave my heart away in second grade, and I’ve never gotten it ba
ck. It always has, and always will, be hers to keep.
D. Kelly, author of The Acceptance Series, The Illusion Series, and standalone companion novels Chasing Cassidy and Sharing Rylee, was born and raised in Southern California. She’s a wife, mom, dog lover, taxi, problem fixer, and extreme multi-tasker. She married her high school sweetheart and is her kids’ biggest fan.
Kelly has been writing since she was young and took joy in spinning stories to her childhood friends. Margaritas and sarcasm make her smile, she loves the beach but hates the sand, and she believes Starbucks makes any day better.
A contemporary romance writer, D. Kelly’s stories revolve around friendship and the bond it creates, strengthening the love of the people who share it. For all things D. Kelly, you can visit her website: http://www.dkellyauthor.com
The Acceptance Series –
Breaking Kate – Book One
Catching Kate – Book 1.5
Releasing Kate- Book Two
Loving Kate – Book Three
Christmas with the Houstons – Book Four
Stand Alone Novels
Chasing Cassidy
Sharing Rylee
The Evolution of Us
The Last Resort Motel – Room 13 (April 2018)
The Illusion Series
Just an Illusion – Side A
Just an Illusion – The B Side
Just an Illusion – EP
Just an Illusion – Unplugged
Just an Illusion – Encore (Coming late summer 2018)
http://www.dkellyauthor.com/all-books
