by Kat T. Masen
“I don’t like that answer.”
“Of course, you don’t,” she roars. “Because it means you won’t get laid like right now. What about Scarlett?”
“She’s a movie star, Kate.”
“Uh-huh… just not Morgan, right?”
I let out a frustrated breath as Kate yells out loud, “You fucking wanker. Stop honking your horn, you goddamn knob.”
Pulling back to save my eardrum, I wait until her rant is over. It goes on for another minute or so, her profanities never cease to amaze me.
“Anyway, how are you doing?” I ask in an effort to be a good friend. “Lex mentioned how busy you’ve been.”
“Yes, apparently too busy to have any sort of life.”
“Look on the bright side?”
“Uh-huh, what is it?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “But isn’t it better to be single than in a fucked-up relationship?”
Kate laughs. “Bro, I need to get laid. This date I went on last night—”
“Wait,” I stop mid-step. “You didn’t tell me you were going on a date?”
I’m slightly annoyed she hadn’t mentioned anything to me, especially since it had to do with another man, and she practically tells me everything else. We speak almost every night. Sometimes via phone, and other times just text. The past few nights have been on and off with Kate being tied up at work.
“Yes, I did, the Irishman.”
“Um, no, you didn’t.”
“Are you sure?” she questions. “Well, I went on this date, and that’s the end of that story.”
“He couldn’t have been that bad.”
“His John belonged to a leprechaun.”
“You fucked him?” I blurt out with an angered tone.
The shift in my mood catches me by surprise. I’m tired, frustrated—that’s all. I should be happy Kate is enjoying her single life and not being dictated by careless emotions.
“No,” she drags. “He kind of whipped it out, and well, I left.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, unsure why this bothers me.
“I’m not even going to ask how a man kind of whips it out. I feel attacked as a man. But listen, you don’t need anyone. Stop letting Charlie and the girls get to your head.”
“You’re right. I don’t need a man. I’ve got you, my bitch boy.”
I laugh through the receiver. “Call me that again, and you’ll pay the price.”
“Oh, I’m so afraid. You coming at me with your big muscles?” Kate chuckles. “Listen, I need to hop into an elevator. Be a good boy. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Sound advice,” I smile. “Bye, sexy.”
“Yeah, yeah… bye, bitch boy.”
***
I was having one of those dreams where you’re falling, and just when you’re about to hit the ground—certain you’ll plummet to your death—you wake up, drenched in sweat. My lungs move up and down while I’m trying to catch my breath. I turn to my cell to view the time—it’s three o’clock. Ugh. I toss and turn, willing my mind to go to sleep when all I can see is Morgan’s face.
The way she almost melted into me when we kissed.
Fuck! Curb the damn hard-on.
I continue to lie wide awake until the sun rises with a huge boner which can’t be tamed. Correction, I do nothing to tame it. My surroundings, given that it’s Charlie and Lex’s home, make me feel like I have Mom staying next door. Awkward and uncomfortable. I need to find some other way to release the enormous amount of tension building up inside of me.
The usual run and quick workout in the gym relieves it somewhat, that is until I hit the shower. Running the soap down my arm, back up onto my chest, then moving down, I have to think of something else to get my mind off it. And so, I start thinking about life back home. What the guys are up to, especially if Benny’s continued his relationship with Rose. I haven’t heard back from Mom after texting her a couple of times. Having her own small business as an interior decorator, she works strange and long hours.
“Uncle Noah!” There’s a bang on the bathroom door, and then more banging. It continues like the beat of a drum.
I turn the water off and grab a towel, wrapping it around me. The longer I leave it, the more banging. I swear to God these damn kids.
“What is it, Amelia?” I ask with a groan.
“It’s Ava, Uncle Noah!” More banging.
I finally give in, opening the door. “Yes, Ava.”
“Good morning.” Her smile, cute and cheeky, spreads across her face. She’s still wearing her pink Minnie Mouse pajamas and matching slippers.
“Good morning, Ava.” I smile softly.
She raises my cell toward my chest and says, “You got a text from your girlfriend.”
I immediately take it from her. “Ava, we talked about this. You’re not supposed to be playing with my phone.”
Her lips quiver, but she manages to hold it in. “Sorry, Uncle Noah. I was playing your game. Lookie!” She points to the game. “I did all this extra stuff,” she says excitedly.
“Did you use all my coins?” I ask in a mild panic.
“Uh-huh.”
Don’t freak out. It only took you like a year to save those coins and gems. This is clearly not a first-world problem. People are dying in Africa. You can handle this. This stupid game is an unnecessary addiction.
I want to man cry massive ugly tears about the hours upon hours of wasted time collecting these coins, around the clock, on the hour.
“Let it go…” I chant.
“Uncle Noah, why are you singing the Frozen song?”
“Ava,” I say as calmly as possible. “I need to get dressed.”
She smiles and skips happily out of the room. Meanwhile, I’m having a nervous breakdown. Unable to shower without interruption, my phone continually being touched. Argh, I need some privacy! I can’t prolong the apartment hunting. As soon as I have a spare moment this week, I’ll find myself a realtor.
The text is from some woman I hooked up with last year. In the space of a year, she’s managed to get married again and divorced. I ignore the text, not interested in conversing with someone who has that much emotional baggage.
Before getting changed, I sit on my bed and decide to text Morgan to see if she’s free to meet up today. That, and to make sure she doesn’t back out of our agreement.
Me: Good morning. Are you free today? I could do lunch at midday. Please say you’re free. This morning has kicked my butt already.
Great. Like that didn’t come across as desperate and needy. She instantly responds, immediately lifting my mood.
Morgan: Good morning to you too. How is it possible that your butt has been kicked before six am? An early riser, huh? Sure, I can do lunch. I’ll text you the details when I’m in the office.
It’s just too easy like shooting fish in a barrel.
Me: An early riser, yes. But, baby, trust me, it’s worth waiting for.
The bubble appears on the screen, and I rip off my towel while I wait for her message and put on my boxers.
Morgan: I walked right into that one, didn’t I? Okay, okay… Noah 1, Morgan 0. I’ll see you at lunch, and make sure you behave. After all, we will be in public.
I laugh out loud, surprised by her sense of humor. There’s something refreshing about our confrontation yesterday. Finally, all secrets have been let out, and now I can get to know who she really is. My fingers type quickly, eager for her to respond.
Me: A lot can go on under a table. But hey, I’ll behave if that’s what you want.
I put the rest of my clothes on and head back to the bathroom to quickly finish styling my hair. When I make my way to the bed, my cell that sits on the duvet has a message from her.
Morgan: I want a lot of things, Noah. But life doesn’t always work out that way.
She isn’t saying anything untrue. Look at where life has taken me. If I had my way, the boys would have forgiven me, and life would’ve continued on back h
ome. But here I am trying to figure out how easily our conversation has become so severe.
Midday can’t have come quick enough. I meet her at the restaurant she suggests, early as usual. When it’s well past noon, I think only one thing—she flaked on me again. Just when I’m about to text her, she bustles through the door in a state of panic.
“I’m so sorry!” She rushes. “My cell died as in decided to do this random update and won’t turn on. Then this moron got a flat tire, causing this massive traffic jam. I’d have texted you but—”
I touch her arm. Her breathing slows down. Then her face relaxes as the two of us take a seat.
“It’s okay,” I say with a reassuring smile. “Just means we need wine.”
“I can’t drink. I’ve got a meeting in an hour with the execs at the studios,” she tells me, but I can tell she’s disappointed.
“Wait,” I say in a serious tone. “You mean I can’t get you drunk? How else will you go to bed with me, then?”
With her deep blue eyes dancing flirtatiously while watching me, she struggles to hide the grin behind the menu, which sits tall on the table. It’s so cute and beautiful. And I just want to see her smile a million times over and kiss every inch of her soft pink lips until that smile is replaced with a seductive moan.
“Not shy to say what it is you want, huh?” she answers with a smirk.
“I’m an early riser, remember?”
She openly laughs, shaking her head at me. The waitress working today walks over, requesting our order. The restaurant serves quality cuisine, and Morgan’s not shy in ordering a decent-size meal.
I tell the waitress I’ll have the same, uninterested in the food and more interested in Morgan. Noticeably, the waitress lingers long enough for me to glance up and see what she’s waiting for. After a moment’s awkwardness, she walks away.
Morgan takes a sip of water from her glass, placing it down and focusing her attention back to me. Unlike every other time, she maintains eye contact, staring at me with curiosity.
“So everywhere you go, is this what happens? Women just wanting some Noah love?”
“No,” I tell her, leaning forward, resting my elbows on the edge of the table. “There’s this one woman. Pain in the ass, really. She’s all against the Noah love. Probably heads home to her litter of cats and sticks pins into a voodoo Noah doll.”
She remains speechless, lifting the glass of water to her lips again, hiding a playful smile. “So, tell me…” she begins. “You’re new to LA. Why here?”
This would be a perfect time to be honest about why I came here, but something warns me about being too forward at this very moment may not be such a good idea. And so, I hold back the information, keeping the topic to a bare minimum. “Let’s see. Things back home got complicated. My cousin lives out here. I wanted a new start, and luckily her husband owns a very well-known publishing house and needs someone to run their marketing department here in LA.”
She purses her lips, shaking her head. “Complicated? As in relationship complicated?”
Should I tell her now that I don’t do relationships? No point giving false hope. And if I don’t do relationships, what exactly am I trying to achieve here?
You want her in bed with you.
You want to boost your confidence because lately, you’ve been questioning everything in your life.
I switch to a darker tone, inviting her to drop the subject. “It involved a woman but no, not a relationship.”
She seems to pick up on my tone, dropping her eyes to the table following with a chagrined expression. I immediately regret not being honest, apologizing by resting my hand on top of hers to rebuild the connection between us.
Lifting her eyes to meet mine, she gently slides her hand back and forces a smile. “So, you’re staying with your cousin and her husband?” she asks, switching subjects.
“And two daughters. Hence… my early morning woes. Did you know that kids have the ability to invade your personal life in ways you can’t imagine?”
“Yes.” She follows with a chuckle. “It’s crazy how the littlest things you take for granted are somewhat misplaced when you have kids.”
“Have you spent much time around them?” I ask cautiously.
“Yes, just close family,” she says plainly. “Scarlett can’t stand them. But don’t ever tell her I told you that.”
I nod my head slowly, watching the way her eyes examine my face with pure intensity.
“I need my own place. Noah needs plenty of private time,” I hint.
“I can only imagine,” she says, eyes wide, her lips parting softly.
Those lips. I need to do something with them. The restaurant is busy, people seated all around us. Surely, stealing just one kiss wouldn’t be inappropriate?
The waitress returns with our food, distracting me if only for a moment.
We talk a little bit about work.
She tells me how she got into the business and why she doesn’t allow her relationship with Scarlett to go public. “I’m not interested in being in the spotlight. That’s why I go by my middle name. The tabloids would be following me if they knew I was her sister.”
“And Bentley?”
“Just a random name I chose.” Taking a bite of her fish, she chews gently, swallowing then wiping her mouth daintily with the napkin. “How good is this fish?”
I agree, quick to remain on topic. “Why did Scarlett tell me you guys were sisters?”
“I don’t know. She’s quite fond of you…” she trails off.
“But I’m quite fond of you,” I tell her.
She holds my gaze, eyes fixed and narrowing slightly as she tilts her head, exposing her neck. The skin, soft and edible, drives me insane. I want to taste every inch of her. With her hair out, she purposely flicks it to one side, giving me a full view of her heaving chest.
“Are you, Noah?” she murmurs, just above a whisper.
Leaning in, taking her hand in mine, I kiss the top of her knuckles before whispering, “Yes, Morgan. Ever since you informed me your pussy needs feeding.”
There’s silence, only the noise of the patrons around us filling our ears with sounds. I don’t know how she’ll take my forward behavior because, with her, I have no clue how to hold back.
She leans in further, her face close to mine, our lips inches apart. “You have no idea, Noah.”
Morgan stirs something inside me like a tornado beginning its collision course. I grab my wallet quickly, taking out some bills and throwing them at the table, leaving our meals unfinished. I tell her to hold her stuff, practically pulling her out of the door. With her heels dragging across the concrete, she repeatedly asks where we’re going. My car is conveniently parked at the back, in the corner. When we reach it, I pin her against the door and slam my lips onto hers, giving my hands free rein to explore her body.
I don’t care who sees us. The adrenaline is pumping hard in my chest, unleashing some sort of wild beast desperate to escape. My hands move of their own accord, sliding up her thigh and cupping her ass. It’s so firm and sits perfectly in my hands.
Fuck, the things I could do to this ass. Spread her cheeks nice and wide, slide my cock slowly into her asshole, feeling her tighten around me. See the pain mixed with pleasure etched on her face. Hear her call my name, desperate and out of control.
She wraps her arms around my neck, tight, holding onto me as if her life depends on it. Her scent is intoxicating and drives me to the brink of insanity.
Between her moans, I graze my lip against her lobe. “Let’s go. Now.”
“Where?” she manages between breaths.
“Anywhere,” I plea with desperation. “Your place, your office, my car.”
Pressing her lips with such force, her tongue flicks against mine, gently sucking while I push my body harder into hers. I can’t control myself, and I know she’s equally affected, purposely pressing her pussy against the tip of my cock.
“C’mon, please,” I beg again
. “I’ll settle for you to suck me off.”
She smiles into my mouth, reaching down and stroking my shaft on the outside of my pants. “I like to receive,” she reminds me. “But for you… I could suck you off till you’re screaming my name and blowing in my mouth.”
The rush of blood runs straight to where she’s stroking, causing me to buckle in agony, desperate to blow in her mouth right now. I latch onto her tighter. Then suddenly, without warning, the air rushes cold against my skin as she pulls away abruptly.
“I can’t, not now,” she pants.
I slide my hand back up her thigh, purposely grazing against her panties. They’re drenched.
Holy fuck. Someone kill me, right now.
“Noah, please stop. I can’t… I have to go,” she pleads with desperation, forcing me off her body.
Pulling back, the loss of contact hits me like a wrecking ball. My breathing, uneven and shallow, slowly regulates, and with her beautiful body against my car, I take one more look at her.
I can see it in her eyes, the desire and reluctance to stop right now, but I also see something else, almost sadness. And then, it occurs to me, because I’ve seen this look before—it’s the look of guilt. It explains her unusual behavior, her initial distaste toward men, and her hesitation with opening up to me.
Some fucker out there has broken her.
Every part of me knows I should walk away, but I want her in ways I’ve never imagined.
“I’ll let you go,” I tell her. “But only for now. Not forever.”
She places her hands on my cheeks, bringing my face to hers as she places a soft kiss on my lips. “I’ll make it up to you. In more ways than you can imagine.” She turns around and begins to walk toward her car.
I concentrate on the way her hips sway from side to side, teasing me relentlessly. And just when I think I’ve controlled my breathing, she turns around, sending back a flirtatious wink while blowing a kiss.
