by M. S. Parker
“Hey.” I managed a smile for her, but before she could loop her arm through mine, I said, “Nice seeing ya. I need to go say hi to Rusty. Happy New Year, Calie.”
I lost myself in the crowd and didn’t look back, not even when a low crash reverberated behind me, and a bunch of hooting broke out. A piece of furniture had likely just been broken.
This was why I didn’t ever want to have parties at my place. When it came to guys like this, if only one thing got broken, it probably wasn’t even considered a party.
Rusty was in the back of the house, smoking a joint and nursing a bottle of beer while his girlfriend leaned up against him. He met my eyes and lifted the beer in greeting then pointed over to the far wall. I craned my neck around and saw the cooler, nodding my thanks as I moved to grab a beer for myself. I snagged another one and lifted it, showing it to Rusty. He mouthed something that might have been, “Fuck, yes.” I had no idea but took the bottle along. If he didn’t drink it, I’d need it in a few minutes.
One of the guys saw me and got up, vacating the chair without me having to say a word. I wouldn’t have, I would have been fine standing with my back to the wall, but I took the seat. It was mostly turned to the wall, like a lot of the chairs and it gave me an almost full view of the room.
That was how I preferred it.
Seated next to Rusty, I nodded at his girlfriend as I passed him the beer.
His girlfriend, Bernadette – Bernie to all of us – saw me and swayed forward to wrap her arms around my neck in an overly enthusiastic hug. She wasn’t the flirtatious type unless she was plastered so I didn’t think much of it, just eased her back toward Rusty. “Had a bit to drink, Bernie?” I asked her.
She snorted and laughed. “A bit? Nooooo…” Then she fell back against Rusty and said, “I’m tired, baby. Let’s go to bed and fuck.”
He grinned down at her. “We’ve got company, baby.”
She wiggled her eyebrows and giggled. “They can come watch!”
He patted her cheek, then shifted on the chair where he sat so she could curl up against him better. The two of them had been together for as long as I’d known them.
“How’s that bike coming along?” Rusty asked as Bernie snuggled into his heavy frame. He stood almost four inches taller than me, and Bernie, at five-six, looked almost delicate next to him. She buried her face in his neck, and I had no doubt she’d be asleep in no time, never mind the noise and chaos going on around her. And Rusty would just sit there holding her.
For some reason, the thought hung there with me as I thought about the bike one of Rusty’s guys had brought me the other day. “Need a few more parts. They’ve got to be ordered in. Already placed the order, but with the holidays, things are moving slow.”
Rusty rolled his eyes and muttered, “Fuck the holidays. I want my bike.”
“You might be able to get it quicker if you took it to a bigger garage,” I offered.
“I don’t want a bigger garage.”
I knew he didn’t.
Off to my right, two women broke out into a screaming argument, and I grimaced as the splatters from what was probably beer hit the side of my face and neck. I was going to smell like the inside of a brewing vat by the time I left here.
“You find yourself a pretty girlie to kiss at midnight?” Rusty asked.
Shooting him a glance, I said, “What?”
“Midnight…kissing in the New Year.”
“It’s ringing in the New Year,” I told him.
“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes, his gaze on the girl fight carrying on next to me. I was paying it a fair amount of attention myself, watching from the corner of my eye. When the two women practically tumbled into my lap, I shifted automatically, shielding them from accidentally striking Bernie, who had started to snore.
I rose, letting them fall from my lap. One of them hit the table which set the bottles on top to wobbling. They continued to fight right up until the bottles fell and the domino effect had beer, cocktails, and wine pouring down on the two screaming and scrapping women.
They stopped, half choking.
“If you’re done,” Rusty said in a level voice. “Can you do something about this fucking mess you just made?”
3
Raye
As I closed the door behind me, I realized something.
My lips were still buzzing.
It had taken me almost forty minutes to get home – it was normally a twenty-minute trip, both the subway ride and the walk, but tonight it had been double.
So just over forty minutes since some big, sexy stranger with a scar slicing his left eyebrow had smacked his mouth over mine and kissed me.
It had been a quick, light kiss really, now that I think of it.
And it had been the New Year.
Maybe I shouldn’t have slapped him.
I didn’t know.
What I did know was that my mouth was buzzing.
I hadn’t kissed anybody in recent memory who’d actually had the ability to make anything buzz. That made this pretty…well…I couldn’t call it epic, except it kind of was.
And I’d slapped him.
He’d helped me, dealing with the two creeps who’d been up to no good, then midnight strikes and…okay, maybe I’d been gawking at him a little. It might have seemed like a moment, now that I think of it. Not that I’d understand what a moment really felt like.
A kiss on New Year’s Eve was a simple enough thing, wasn’t it?
Strangers kissed strangers on New Year’s Eve, right?
It wasn’t a big deal, but I’d gone and made something of it.
He hadn’t been grabbing at my ass or my boobs or anything.
“Just a kiss,” I murmured.
I might have felt exceptionally silly if I let myself think about it too much. It would be hard to do that though. Every time I tried to clear my mind, I was left thinking about the ever-fading buzz on my lips.
I licked them, fleetingly wondered if I could catch a taste of him like I had when he’d actually been kissing me. But if any taste had lingered, it was long gone now.
“You shouldn’t have slapped him,” I told myself. And it was the truth.
But hindsight was twenty-twenty.
Nearly a half an hour later, I stood under the hot spray in my minuscule shower, letting the water beat down on me. My apartment was tiny, barely big enough to be called that, and I was actually lucky to have this much space. I’d been living in an area half this size, forced to share a bathroom, but my current manager’s sister worked in real estate, and they’d helped me find this place. Friends from the store had helped decorate and improvise with the vertical space.
Sadly, there was nothing to be done about a tiny, cramped bathroom.
I fit in there just fine, if I didn’t do a lot of turning around. If I’d been anything other than what some people called fun-sized, I had no idea how I’d manage in the little shower.
As the heat billowed around me, I thought again about the guy who’d come out of the crowd to chase away my harassers and a tingle raced through my entire system. It wasn’t unpleasant.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about my kissing hero, and the more I thought about him, the more surreal the event seemed.
I wished I hadn’t slapped him.
I wished I had kissed him back.
If I had, what would have happened?
I must have been more tired – or more dazed – than I realized because I found myself cupping a breast in my palm as I relived that short kiss and let it play out in my mind to a better one, a longer one. One where I opened my mouth, and he slid his tongue inside to taste me.
I’d kissed a few guys who seemed like adequate kissers and a couple who were even pretty good at it. I think he would have qualified for really good. He hadn’t tried to mash his mouth to mine or choke me with his tongue.
I groaned, closing my eyes. Now I was fantasizing about opening for him and taking his tongue into my mouth, suck
ing on him as he cupped one of my breasts.
That tingling sensation spread, and I let my hand slide lower.
I found the folds between my thighs, which were damp – and not only because of the shower.
Curious, I rubbed myself, and while I felt something that seemed like pleasure, I didn’t know what else to do. Nothing felt right, and the more I thought about it, the more awkward this whole situation seemed.
Frustration grew inside me, replacing that wonderful tingling sensation, and as the pleasantness faded, I smacked my head back against the tiled wall of the shower.
There was something broken inside me.
The part that was supposed to enjoy all of this just…didn’t.
“Maybe you’re thinking about it too much,” I told myself as I pushed off the wall and finished up the shower.
It was possible, I guessed.
Anything was possible…like having some big, tattooed sexy stranger swoop down out of a crowd to chase off some roughnecks, then linger long enough for a kiss.
Heaving out a sigh, I turned off the water and reached for a towel. Since clearly, I wasn’t going to be able to relax via self-induced orgasm, I’d dry off and pull on some PJs. I wasn’t ready to sleep, but I had other plans in mind.
Classes started in a little over a week, and I wanted to get a head’s up on the courses I was tackling for the next semester. So far, I’d been able to hold up my GPA, and none of my scholarships were in jeopardy. Even so, I wasn’t the sort to take any of that for granted, especially since I was carrying a heavier class load this time around.
Fifteen minutes later, clad in flannel pajamas, with a cup of tea next to my elbow, I cracked open the top book on the stack waiting on the table.
It wasn’t as good as lying back and fantasizing about some tall, dark, and sexy stranger, but if all that was going to do was end up with me frustrated, I’d rather study.
At least I’d feel like I accomplished something.
4
Kane
A hand smoothed down my thigh, and judging by the way things felt, that hand was attached to a naked woman lying between my legs. A mouth kissed the head of my cock, and I shuddered at the sensation.
“You’re awake,” a familiar voice said. And those words were followed by a giggle.
Calie.
I opened my eyes and craned my head upward to see her sprawled between my legs. She grinned up at me and took my cock into her mouth before dragging her head up, then down.
Blearily, I looked around, and it was pathetic that part of me could still focus on logical shit while she was giving me a blowjob, but the fact of the matter was…I could.
And it wasn’t that she wasn’t good at it.
I just wasn’t…invested in anything but the outcome.
If I closed my eyes, it made it easier to get to the end goal, too. Closing my eyes made it easier to think about the hot, wet mouth as it slid down my cock, taking me deep, all the way to the back of her throat in a practiced glide before sliding back up and holding the tip of my penis between her lips for a teasing moment before starting it all over again.
She kept that pace up for several minutes before shifting away to close her mouth over my sac, and I arched up with a grunt as she fisted her hand over my dick and began to pump.
Calie moved up, taking the head of my cock once more, and I could feel her head bobbing up and down. I needed to stop thinking about Calie, because every time I did, the interest waned a little…and wasn’t that a bitch when the woman had my dick in her mouth?
I deliberately blanked my mind and focused on the sensation, reaching down to fist a hand in Calie’s hair. It came as something of a surprise when I found myself wishing the chin length strands of reddish brown were a brighter shade of red…and a lot shorter.
The cute girl from last night.
My dick stirred, and the waning interest wasn’t waning anymore.
Calie purred, the sound vibrating down my shaft, but I shoved out thoughts of her. It was the rudest damn thing to do, but deflating while she was giving me head wasn’t very polite either, I figured.
I didn’t entirely let myself fantasize about another woman while I was there in bed with a different woman, but every few moments, the girl from last night made an appearance.
It was frustrating, and I tightened my hand in Calie’s hair, half-thinking to pull her off. She gasped a little and said, “More.”
Hell.
I let her finish me off, and when she curled up next to me, I laid there with my eyes closed, feeling like a bigger asshole than normal. But I hadn’t asked her to stay the night. My head had been full of the cute redhead for hours, so I was almost positive I wouldn’t have asked her to stay the night – I never did.
Calie arched against me, and I felt the slick glide of her cunt grinding against my thigh. “I’m kinda hungry over here,” she said in a little girl voice that was no doubt meant to turn me on. It didn’t.
Climbing out of bed, I grabbed a pair of jeans from the foot and shot her a look. “It’s morning. Why are you here?”
“Because you didn’t kick me out?” She giggled and sat up, sitting with her legs crisscrossed, showing off the pink, wet folds between her thighs.
I kept my gaze focused on her face. “You know the rules. I don’t like it when people spend the night.”
Her lashes drooped over her eyes, and she lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “You didn’t seem to mind just now.”
“I rarely mind it when a woman decides to give me a blowjob,” I said bluntly. “That doesn’t mean you can break the rules we established when we first hooked up. We talked about them, remember? I don’t stay the night at your place, you don’t stay the night at mine. Remember that talk? We’ve had it a couple of times now actually.”
Her lids flickered, and her full mouth tightened with annoyance for the briefest moment, but I didn’t let it get to me. I never made any pretenses about who or what I was, and she knew it.
She rolled onto her hands and knees in the next moment and started to crawl toward me. “Why are you so afraid of a commitment, Kane?” she asked, her voice soft, almost gentle. “It was just one night. We both had fun. It shouldn’t be such a big deal after how long we’ve been together.”
I almost laughed but told myself it wasn’t going to help anything.
Grabbing a t-shirt, I hauled it on, ignoring the small pains in my back that let me know she wasn’t lying when she said we’d had fun. She’d scratched the hell out of me. I could feel it.
“I’m not afraid of commitment, Calie,” I pointed out. “I just don’t want it.” Especially not from her. She was…clingy. And it was dawning on me lately, how manipulative she was. I didn’t care to have anybody pulling my strings, but nobody was going to do it using sex and slow, sultry smiles. I’d stopped letting my dick make decisions for me a long time ago, and I wasn’t about to go back down that road. “As to us being together…we’re not. We fuck. This isn’t exclusive.”
Something hot flashed in her eyes.
Aw, hell.
Cocking my head, I studied her face. “You do remember that I told you from the beginning this wasn’t exclusive, right? We can see other people, fuck other people, we don’t spend the night with each other, and we use protection, period.
When she didn’t answer, I turned on my heel and strode into the small bathroom attached to my bedroom.
I breathed out a sigh of relief when I found two used rubbers in the garbage can. When I came out, she was sitting in the middle of the bed, a pillow clutched to her middle. “You gloved up,” she said peevishly. “I told you that you didn’t have to. I’m clean, and it’s not that time of the month.”
“I’ve been with two other girls in the past month. For all you know, I’m not clean.” I was – I got checked every month. A friend of mine from the joint had managed to go his entire time there without getting sick with HIV, hepatitis, or any of the other shit that could grab guys like us, but then a mo
nth after he got out, he hooked up with a girl from before his time inside, and voila. He ended up with HIV. It made me nervous. I always gloved up, and I got tested regularly.
Her eyes widened, but I didn’t know if it was because of the not clean comment or because I told her that I’d been with girls other than her. “I made it clear that this wasn’t exclusive,” I said again, grinding the message in.
She stood up on the bed, glaring at me. “Why you gotta be so mean to me? Don’t you know how I feel about you?”
“Whatever you think you feel…” I shook my head. “You might want to stop feeling it. I’m not ever going to feel the same way, Calie. It’s time for you to go.”
She blinked back furious tears, although I had no idea if they were real or not. I couldn’t say it mattered much to me either. She was working me on some level, and I wasn’t going to have it.
Especially not after that crack claiming she’d told me I didn’t have to wear a rubber.
That had been rule number one, and if I’d been drunk enough last night not to remember her coming home with me, then I’d been way too drunk for her to go planting her ass at my side and inviting herself over for a sleepover she knew I wouldn’t agree to if I was sober.
It pissed me the hell off.
“It was just one night!” she shouted at me as she jumped off the bed. “What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is I don’t do one nights – at all.” I glared at her as she went to swing the pillow at me. “And I already pointed out that it’s time for you to go. I’ve got stuff to do, and I need to get to it. I’ve got plans for dinner with my family later.”
Immediately, her face changed, softening. A smile curled her lips. “You should have said so. Now I know why you’re so grumpy. You always get uptight when you have things going on. Why don’t you let me help you?” She bit her lip, an attempt at shyness that just didn’t do it for me.
