by Sage, Aubrey
I pulled my car into the attached garage of my mansion and then escorted her inside to the living room.
“Wow, I love your place,” she said as she spun around taking in the receded lighting and spiral staircase that led up the bedroom.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you tired?”
“Not really...”
I thought about pulling the trigger at that moment, but figured a little alcohol was all that it would take to seal the deal. I swung to the minibar in the corner of the living room and reached for the vodka and orange juice to make us both a screwdriver.
“What happened in the club?” the girl asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I saw you push a guy down to the ground.”
“Oh, just some guy was coming on too strong to my sister. Sorry you had to see that.” Sheila was sitting on the couch, and I navigated over to hand her the drink.
Sheila sipped her screwdriver then turned towards me. “I just want you to know that I’m not easy. I don’t usually go home with guys that I just met.”
“Oh,” my face sunk into a frown, and I placed my hand on her cheek. “I know baby. Don’t think like that.”
Sheila stared into my eyes, and after a few seconds, I pulled her into a kiss. She was eager, darting her tongue in and out of my mouth a little too quickly. Not easy? Not sure about that one.
I pulled away. “Cheers,” I said towards her desperate eyes. I raised my glass towards hers.
“Cheers,” she smiled and clanked her screwdriver against mine.
We both downed the rest of our drink in one gulp, and then Sheila grabbed on to her head.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Wooo… I think I’ve just drank too much.”
“Let’s go upstairs,” I insisted.
Sheila nodded, and I grabbed her hand, leading her up to the master bedroom. When we arrived, she walked towards my leather, California King and turned around, unsure of what to do next. I pushed her, causing her to fall onto the fluffy comforter below.
When I climbed on top of her, she was breathing heavily, and I could smell the scent of vodka and orange juice on her breath. I grabbed the shirt portion of her two-piece dress at the front and pulled it as hard as I could, ripping it apart and causing her breasts to bounce free in an instant. She yelped in surprise.
I stared down at her bare nipples and felt anticipation growing between my legs.
“Don’t leave me…” she cried. “Don’t fuck me and leave me.”
Damn… I knew right then that I was screwed. She was falling too fast, and I knew that I would have to break her heart by continuing. Did I care? Maybe a little bit, but I was raging horny and needed to let off some stress.
“Don’t worry,” I mumbled.
Then I felt my cell phone vibrating in my pants. I paused my seduction routine and pulled my phone out of my pocket to look at the screen.
It was Annie.
“Just a minute,” I said to Sheiila. She covered her breasts with her hands and pouted. I clicked the receiver button on my phone. “Hello?”
“Mitch?” Annie’s voice was shrill and shakey.
“Annie? Are you okay?”
“No… Can you come get me?”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know…”
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. I pulled the phone off my ear slightly and motioned towards Sheila. “C’mon, we gotta go.”
Chapter 17
I didn’t feel the slightest bit bad for telling Mitch to fuck off. It was his idea to bring me out, and he was the one who bought me alcohol. How could he get upset that I drank the long island and ended up finding someone that I actually liked? And he crossed the line when he pushed Raymond to the floor in front of everyone.
How did he have any right to tell me who I can’t dance and make out with?
My French prince and I made our way back to the dance floor and continued rocking our bodies against each other. Raymond seemed like he held back a little bit while Mitch was still in the club, but eventually I saw him across the room talking to some other girl before he and the girl finally disappeared.
“How about that drink you promised to buy me?” I yelled to Raymond.
“For sure, baby.” He smiled, grabbed my hand, and my fingers locked inside of his velvety soft palms as he led me back to the bar.
“Moohitoo,” I said to him.
“Moo–What?”
“Moohitoo. The same thing that I heard you order before.”
“Oh… mojito,” he laughed. He turned towards the bartended. “Two mojitos please.”
“Sorry, I forgot. I don’t drink a lot.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” His eyes panned up and down my body. “How old are you anyway?”
I darted my eyes to another bartender who was standing dangerously close and could probably hear everything that we could say. I bit my lips and took a moment to consider if I should tell him, but figured that he had the right to know if we were going to go continue with our little romance. I leaned into his ear and whispered. “I’m only 18.”
Raymond’s body jolted and his eyes bugged out of his head. “You…?”
I nodded.
“Aw, fuck… Oh fuck,” he wailed.
“What’s wrong? Am I too young for you?”
He reached his arm out to my shoulder and curled his lips as he apologized. “No, no, no…” He scanned my body up and down again and settled on my breasts. “Fuck, baby. You’re so hot.”
There were two subsequent loud clanks that rang out from the bar as the bartender slammed our drinks down. “Two mojito’s,” the man sad.
Raymond grabbed both drinks and handed one to me. “Drink up, baby. Drink.”
I smiled, happy that he didn’t think I was too young for him, and took a sip of my mojito. It was a bit more sour and a bit less minty than I expected, but I felt so thirsty that I sucked huge gulps up at a time.
Raymond leaned against the bar, looking totally relaxed and in control. I still didn’t know how old he was, but definitely in his early to mid-20’s. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t had a boyfriend for the past 3 years? I needed an older guy who was in control and already established. The high school boys who were just trying to get started didn’t do it for me.
I sucked in more of my mojito and the straw made a hollow, rattling sound. I looked down into the glass and twirled my straw, wondering why they filled half the drink with leaves. When you add the ice in there, it leaves little room for the liquid.
“Another?” I asked Raymond as I held my empty glass to him. My body was layered in sweat by then and I felt extremely thirsty.
“Oh, baby. You drank that very fast. You should give yourself some time.”
“I’m fine,” I grinned.
“Okay,” he said and sucked hard on his own straw, trying to catch up to me and finish his drink. “Let’s go dance a little bit first and then we’ll have another drink, okay?”
I shrugged. “Okay.”
He sat his glass on the bar and stepped out in front of me, holding his hand out for me to grab. I reached out to catch his hand, but when I took a step, my legs felt like jello, and I tripped on my own feet.
After crashing to the ground, I sat there for several moments, suddenly feeling the after-effects of the mojito. I was drunk–way more drunk than I thought I was before. The sight of the ground rushing towards my face so quickly had also made my head spin, and I thought I might vomit if I moved too quickly.
Raymond reached down to help me, but I lightly slapped his hand away. “I’m okay. Just give me a moment.”
“Baby, you’re so drunk… You can’t drink anymore tonight.”
He was right. I pulled myself to my feet and stumbled again, avoiding another fall only by the support of Raymond’s hand. I brushed the dust off my dress and looked around, felling far less embarrassed than I should have. “That
mojito hit me really hard. I think I should just go home.”
Raymond nodded and put his hand around my shoulders. “Okay, baby. Let’s go, Let’s go!” He held my hand and supported me as he walked me through the crowd of people. Everyone we passed seemed to turn their eyes to the drunk girl who could barely stand on her two feet.
Eventually, we made it outside and I basked in the fresh breeze of the night air. I suddenly felt tired and couldn’t wait to crawl in my bed and call it a night.
He led me through the parking lot and to his car, an old, white Chrysler Lebaron, which hurt more than added to his sex appeal. He opened the door for me, and I slid into the passenger side. The car smelled musty and there were crunched up fast food bags and empty water bottled scattered throughout. Everything was a stark contrast to the brand new Ferrari that I had arrived in.
Raymond turned his key in the ignition and the starter turned and chugged a few times before the engine started up. He pressed his foot into the gas, revving the engine similar to the way my brother had, but his engine sounded more like a go cart than a sports car.
“Okay, okay, baby. Let’s go,” he wailed and started pulling out of the parking lot.
I leaned my head back on the hard headrest and closed my heavy eyes. I couldn’t fault Raymond for having a shitty car. Most people weren’t wealthy like my brother. He seemed to have a good personality and treated me well so far.
I’m not sure how long I was out. I was either daydreaming or fell asleep. But when I opened my eyes, the car was parked and Raymond was stepping out and walking over to my side. He opened my door, and I looked around. We were in the parking lot of a small, low-rise apartment building. The yellow paint on the outer walls of the building was peeling off, and it looked like no one had tended the overgrown bushes surrounding it in years.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“We’re at my place, baby. Come on and get out.”
“I thought you were taking me home?”
“You said you wanted to go home, but you didn’t even tell me where you live. I figured you were okay to go home with me.”
Shit. How did I forgot to tell him where I live? I was seriously bad at dating. I let out a sigh. “Raymond…”
“What? You think I’m a serial killer or something?”
“No, it’s just that I just met you tonight. I can’t just…”
“It’s fine, baby. If you want, I can sleep on the couch.” Raymond held his hands up in a defensive manner.
Raymond was the first guy I had liked in a long time, and I didn’t want to ruin things or make him offended. I wasn’t sure if I could trust him yet, but I figured I would take a chance. I was also pretty drunk, and while Mom and Dad were probably asleep, I’d avoid the potential lecture I’d get if one of them were still up when I arrived home.
“Okay,” I said with a slight nod, and he reached his hand out to help me exit the car.
The walk to his front door wasn’t far, a garden level apartment, no more than 30 meters from where he parked the car. He walked inside and flipped on his light, and I was greeted by a small 1-bedroom unit with cream colored walls, a worn-out brown couch and an old-school, tube television set.
“Welcome, baby. Make yourself at home.”
I immediately felt out of place, but slid my heels off, leaving them in front of the door. I cautiously went deeper into the foreign establishment and admired a poster of Sylvester Stallone from the movie Rocky hanging above his couch. “So you like boxing, huh?”
“I just like the movie. Wanted to add a little flavor to the room.” Raymond followed me to the couch and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Are you hungry? Do you want some food or anything?”
“Some water would be nice, but really I’m just ready to get to sleep.”
Raymond walked into the kitchen, grabbed a glass out of his cabinet, filled with ice from his fridge and tap water.
“You don’t have bottled water?”
“Bottled water?” He shook his head and smirked. “Bottled water is a scam. It’s just tap water. All you’re paying for is the bottle.” He made his way back into the living room and handed me the glass.
“Right…”
“The bedroom is over here.” He gestured towards the single inner-doorway that was visible.
I followed him into the bedroom where he also flipped on the switch, and there was a full-sized bed, a wooden dresser and a window. Nothing special, but it worked. He pulled back the messy comforter and the sheets. It looked clean enough.
“Alright, let’s get some sleep.” I leaned in to Raymond and gave him a peck on the lips. “I had fun tonight.”
“Oh, me too, baby.”
I sat my water down on the floor–I didn’t see a nightstand, so that looked like the closest place that was accessible–and climbed under the blankets. Raymond flipped off the lights, and I could tell from the dim moonlight shining through the window that he was taking off his clothes. He stripped down to his boxers, and from what I could see he was relatively in shape. He didn’t have a six-pack or huge muscles, but he was lean and healthy. I eyed him suspiciously, expecting that he was going to put his clothes in the closet and head to the couch, but instead, he crawled onto the other side of the bed.
“What are you doing Raymond?”
“What? I’m going to sleep.”
“I thought you said you were going to sleep on the couch?”
“Oh, baby… Really? You really want me to sleep on that old couch? It will be such an uncomfortable night.”
I rolled my eyes and huffed. “Fine… But let’s get some sleep.”
My eyes fell shut as Raymond shuffled in bed, and while I felt strange in a foreign place, the alcohol had me falling into a heavy slumber pretty rapidly.
I wasn’t asleep more than a minute or two before I felt Raymond’s hands rubbing against my thigh. My weighty eyelids pulled themselves open. “Raymond, what are you doing?”
“Baby, I need you so badly...” he whined. He leaned over and kissed me on the mouth, and I could taste the stale alcohol on his lips.
I kissed him back, barely, but I really wanted to sleep. “Let’s sleep. I’m so tired.”
I rolled over so that my back was facing him, and again I tried to sleep. His hand continued rubbing against my thigh, and when I felt him wiggle closer to me, his cock pressed against the back of my legs. He was hot and hard.
My first reaction was to ignore him, but then he started gyrating his hips which snapped me out of any hopes of having a peaceful sleep. Then in a sudden movement, his hand slipped up my dress and onto my ass. I immediately slapped his hand and jerked away.
“Stop that Raymond. You said we were just going to sleep.”
“Baby, come on. I know you want to…” he moaned and reached over me to squeeze my breast, hard.
I jerked again and jumped out of bed. “Raymond, what the fuck? I said no!” I stared down at him, nearly livid, and he looked back at me with crazy eyes.
“I don’t understand you. You basically fucked me already at the club. Why did you want to come here if you don’t want me?”
“I didn’t want to come here in the first place! You brought me here!”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have to come inside. Why come in here if you didn’t want to sleep with me?”
Now I was really angry, but at the same time what he was saying was true. Why did I come inside? Why did I have faith in this man that I barely knew? I should have known better. “I thought I could trust you, but apparently I was wrong.”
“And I thought you liked me.”
“I did like you, but now I just want you to take me home.”
“Take you home?” Raymond laughed. “Fuck you bitch! You come here and waste my time. Take yourself home!” He stood up, turned on the lights, then grabbed my arm and pulled me through to the living room and to the front door.
“Let go of me, asshole!”
“Get the fuck out of here!” he yelled. He opened hi
s door and threw my shoes out into the walkway. “Go!”
I stared at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Tears were beginning to form in my eyes. “I can’t believe how quickly you changed,” I muttered. Raymond’s face looked furious and showed not an ounce of sympathy for my words. I turned and ambled out the door.
“Stupid 18-year-old cunt! You were too young for me anyway!” He slammed the door, causing the walls outside to rattle.
I squeezed my eyes tight, pushing the building tears out of my eyes as I found myself alone in a strange place. I slid my scuffed shoes on, trying to control my sniffles and keep myself from breaking out into a full-blown bawl.
Slowly, I staggered out of the apartment complex and onto the sidewalk of the strange street, and I saw three men standing in a circle, doing things that were probably not legal for the of night that it was. My fear instantly spiked, and one of the men called out “Dayummmm!” as I passed by.
I tried my best not to act afraid. My purse was at home; all I had brought with me was a cellphone and my I.D. which were both in my dress pocket. I considered calling home, but if my parents found out I was drunk and in odd neighborhood after trying to stay at a stranger’s house, they’d never let me live in down. It was too late to call any of my friends. The only other option was to call the same guy that I had told to fuck off earlier in the night.
Mitch.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and my hands trembled as I scrolled to his contact and hit the call button. I could only hope that he’d forgive me.
Chapter 18
“Look, I’m really sorry about your dress,” I said as I stood by the street waiting for the taxi to pick up Sheila. I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and drew out a $100 bill. “This should cover it.”
“I don’t want your money, Mitch,” she scoffed, her arms crossed and her face pouting. She was wearing one of my old football jerseys in place of the tatters.
My shoulders sulked. For some reason I felt even more terrible for sending Sheila off than I did when I sent the girls off that I actually fucked. I guess the other girls at least got some dick out of the experience. Sheila just got a torn dress and a ruined night.
