Jolt

by Kris Bryant

  “I’m so tired,” she says, resting her head in her hands. I sit across from her, on my own bed. I want to comfort her, but I’m afraid any more contact will set us spiraling into a bout of passionate sex. I can’t handle that right now.

  “Why don’t you go take a shower? You might feel better after that. You’ll probably sleep better,” I say. “I can give you something to sleep in.”

  She’s quiet, her head still in her hands, her expression hidden from me. Finally, she nods and heads straight for the bathroom. I quickly dig through my clothes to find a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I knock on the door softly and slip inside, putting the clothes on the shelf where she’ll find them.

  I don’t want to look at Ali, but I can’t help it. The shower curtain is frosted two-thirds of the way down, but I can see her head and shoulders. She’s leaning forward, hands pressed against the wall, the water beating down on her. She looks so alone. I just want to shed my clothes and join her and tell her it’s going to be okay. I leave instead because I don’t even know if that’s true.

  When Ali emerges from the bathroom, our eyes meet and I feel the jolt again. She always takes my breath away. Even beaten down and exhausted, she’s still as beautiful as the day we met.

  “Did that help?” I ask her. I’m leaning up against the headboard, dead center, my laptop on my thighs with a few papers surrounding me. I’m sure Ali thinks it’s a fortress, but I really am working. I have an idea for another book and, with Ali this close to me, I’m going to have a hard time sleeping.

  “Yes, it did. Thank you for taking care of me,” she says. She pulls back the covers of the other bed and slides between the sheets. She rolls on her back and covers her eyes with her forearm. I quietly gather up the stacks of paper and my laptop and put them on the desk. Ali doesn’t move. In a way, I’m disappointed. I thought for sure she’d somehow work her way over to me. She hasn’t even budged from her spot.

  I turn off the lights and try to figure out what’s going on. Our initial meeting today was intense, but we both pushed through the uncomfortable and unknown feelings. I try to make out Ali in the dark. I hear her steady, even breathing and know she’s asleep. I miss her. I’ve been miserable without her. I miss talking to her late at night. I miss hearing her seductive voice. I miss hearing her sultry laugh and the way she whispers my name. Now that she’s done with her tour and I’m done writing, we can work on us. My edits won’t be too demanding, I hope. I don’t mind. I love the characters I’ve created and miss them like I do real people. It’s sad that I still have imaginary friends at age thirty.

  *

  Ali’s moans jar me awake. I stop and listen, my body on high alert. Did I imagine the noise? A few seconds later, I hear Ali again.

  “No…please don’t,” she says. She’s starting to get louder and moving around in the bed more.

  “Shh, Ali, it’s okay,” I say. I want to soothe her but not wake her. Without hesitating, I slip into bed beside her and hold her. She stills and her breathing evens out. I know I should move back into my bed, but I don’t want to. I just want to hold Ali for a little bit longer. There’s no harm in that. I want to feel her against me and smell her and feel her warmth. God, I missed this. I’m aware of the intensity of my feelings for Ali. One minute I’m wallowing in self-pity and the next I want to fall down at this woman’s feet and pledge my eternal devotion. I don’t know if this is love or not. It feels more intense. I’ve never felt this way. I know I should be disappointed in myself, in my lack of conviction, but I’m way past that. I’m an addict when it comes to Ali Hart.

  When I open my eyes sometime later, I’m surprised that I’m still in bed with Ali. During the night, Ali rolled onto her back and now I’m tucked into the crook of her arm. My hand is settled under Ali’s T-shirt, my fingertips resting on her warm stomach. My leg is nestled between hers, and I can feel the warmth of her core against my thigh. I freeze. How the hell am I going to get out of this? Then I ask myself if I want to get out of this. As I’m trying to answer my own questions, I start rubbing Ali’s stomach with my fingers. I stop and rest them flat down against her stomach again.

  “I can tell that you’re awake,” I say. I’m not going to jump and run to my bed. I’m caught, but I don’t even care at this point.

  “How can you tell?” Ali asks. Her voice is gravelly and sexy.

  “Your heart started beating faster and you have goose bumps,” I say. We’re both silent for a few seconds. “Is this okay?”

  “I don’t want you to stop. Ever,” she says. Her arm tightens against me and I melt into her. We hold each other quietly, both of us aware of the magnitude of this moment. Thousands of unspoken words hang between us, but we’re content to communicate via small touches. I resume touching Ali’s stomach and catch my breath when I hear her moan softly. She runs her fingers up and down my arm. I feel the pressure of Ali’s lips against my forehead as she kisses me softly.

  “As much as this pains me, I need to get up and go to the bathroom. I feel like I’ve been asleep for days,” she says. I begrudgingly untangle myself from her long limbs, missing her heat immediately. I sit up and allow her to slip by me, watching her in the dark as she makes her way to the bathroom. Should I head to my own bed? I’m not sure what to do. I end up staying right where I am.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  I should feel relaxed. I’m out in San Diego on a Saturday night at a very nice restaurant with a beautiful woman. We’re drinking wine and eating a fantastic dinner, but I’m restless. This electricity between me and Ali is almost unbearable. A static charge is bouncing back and forth between us, and even though we agreed to take things slow, I have this incredible urge to jump her. I want that feeling of losing control again. Of giving it to her and seeing where she takes me. I’m watching her mouth, how wet her lips are as she sips her wine and takes bites of her pasta. I know I’m looking at her hungrily, but at this point, I don’t care. I’m on my third glass of wine and I’m feeling pretty good.

  “Oh, Beth, what’s on your mind?” she says. She busts me. I want to be embarrassed, but I’m not. I smile at her over the rim of my glass. I need to settle down. I don’t want to have any doubts when we do finally have sex again. I don’t want to regret it. I’ve already forgiven her, right? So why am I punishing myself by holding out?

  “Nothing.” I try to sound nonchalant but fail miserably. “So, tell me about the club we’re going to tonight. How do you know these people?”

  “Well, John gave me my first break, but Mica gave me the opportunity to sing in a gay and lesbian environment. My songs aren’t gay per se, so John didn’t have a problem letting me sing. But Mica gave me the stage several nights a week as I was getting started. Whenever I’m this way, I stop by. Plus, she asked me.”

  I respect Ali and her professional ambition. She also never forgets where she’s from. I’ve met some real snobs in this world who’ve been blessed with fortune and fame, and Ali’s nothing like them. I’m excited to see how Ali handles us out together. We’ve only been on a few dates.

  “Are you ready?” Ali asks. I’m surprised to feel the effects of the wine. I can always tell I’ve had alcohol because my legs feel funny. Some people get dizzy, my legs feel weak. Ali reaches out to steady me and I giggle. What’s wrong with me? I never giggle. She wraps her arm around my waist and escorts me out of the restaurant. She feels so warm and strong, and I can’t help but lean into her. We stand outside waiting for a cab, and she kisses me softly and quickly. Oh, how I’ve missed her lips. Her soft, full red lips.

  “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help it. It amazes me how little self-control I have around you.” She bends down and kisses me again, barely running her tongue across my lips. This kiss shakes me. Ali is confident tonight.

  I sigh and break the kiss. I reach up and gingerly touch her lips, feeling their silkiness under my fingertips. She smiles and pulls back.

  “That tickles,” she says. I giggle again. I mentally smack my forehead. E
m and Shakespeare shake their heads at me. I’m not a seductress tonight. Not by a long shot. Hell, I can barely pronounce the word. I mentally recite it until Ali’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. Thank God the taxi pulls up to save me from an embarrassing explanation. We slip inside and we’re off. We snuggle in the backseat, and I’m so close to her, I’m practically on her lap. I shouldn’t be so open with her, but then again, she’s not fighting me. She holds my hand in hers, running her thumb over the back of it. I love her hands on me. I love the way she speaks to me through touch.

  “Before we were together, I had to stop myself from touching you every time you were near me. Do you remember when you fell and Val grabbed you before I could? I still wanted to reach out for you. Isn’t that crazy? Every time you were within reach of me, you turned away and went somewhere else. It drove me nuts,” she says.

  “I had to keep my distance. You frightened me,” I say. She seems surprised.

  “Really? I mean, I remember you said you had to keep your distance, but I didn’t think you were scared of me.”

  “Just by my feelings for you. They overwhelmed me. I wasn’t ready for them or you.”

  “Are you ready for me now?” she asks.

  “I’m here,” I say. She kisses me again.

  “I couldn’t be happier,” she says. I could be, if we were back at the hotel room naked. She leans back and smiles sexily at me. I swear sometimes she can really read my mind.

  “I have a feeling I’m going to have to fight off a lot of beautiful women tonight,” I say. I’m pouting. She laughs. “Okay, let’s look at the facts. You’re a beautiful, successful singer who makes incredible music and everybody knows you and loves you. I’m going to be jealous all night long.”

  “This will be our first night together where we can be ourselves. John’s place was fun, but there weren’t any gay people there. And we weren’t together at the girl-to-girl thing down at camp. Tonight will be interesting,” she says.

  “Well, I think it will be wonderful,” I say. “I want to get you somewhere where I can kiss you in front of everybody so there isn’t any doubt that we’re together,” I say. She gives me an odd look and I think maybe I crossed the line. Ali remains silent, and I know I’m going to have to explain myself better. “I’m not sharing you, Ali. I’m not going through what I went through before,” I explain, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. “I just want you to be true to me and I’ll do the same.”

  Ali leans forward, inches from my face. “I’d give up everything for you. Being apart from you nearly destroyed me, and there’s no way in hell I’m going through that again. I’m not a player and haven’t been for a very long time. Now it’s just a matter of trust,” she says, a mixture of anger and passion in her look. I gulp. Yep, tonight’s going to be interesting.

  Ali leans back and looks at a text. It’s Mica giving us instructions for when we arrive. We pull up to the Koala Bar and make our way to the front of the line. The closer we get to the door, the more I can feel the music thumping in my chest. The bouncer motions us in. I smile at the wolf whistles and ignore the barbs from disgruntled partygoers still lined up outside. Ali pulls me in front of her as we walk through the door. A large woman with short, spiky gray hair approaches us and gives Ali a hug. Ali smiles and winks at me.

  “Mica, this is my girlfriend, Bethany. Bethany, this is Mica.” She smiles at both of us.

  “Nice to meet you, Mica,” I say. I’m so happy that Ali called me her girlfriend. Yes, I believe I’m still tipsy.

  “She’s beautiful, Ali. Does she have an older sister?” Mica asks. She playfully winks at both of us. She shoos us inside and points to the V.I.P. lounge upstairs. We nod and head that way. The music is so loud that talking is no longer an option. When we make it to the V.I.P. room, it is quieter. The heavy, thick, velvet drapes around the room must keep a lot of the noise down. I walk to the windows that face the dance floor and look at all the people dancing. Ali walks over to me and hands me a water. I guess I’m done with alcohol for the night.

  I turn back to the crowd. It’s warm in here, but I don’t know if that’s the room temperature or the fact that Ali’s right behind me looking over my shoulder at the crowd. I can hear her humming and I close my eyes. I’m so happy right now. I remember the last time we danced. That started us. As if reading my mind, she slides up behind me, intimately, no space between us. Her fingers splay across my stomach. It’s an intimate touch and I love it. It’s possessive and domineering. Or maybe that’s the alcohol and the music and the fact that I’m dying for her to touch me. She starts slowly moving with me, her hips against mine, and I want to beg her to make me come.

  “I’m going to find Mica so we can get out of here,” she says. She growls in my ear. Before she has a chance to go anywhere, a group of women make their way into the lounge. They start squealing the minute they see Ali, and I know our moment of intimacy is over. She kisses me on my temple and goes over to her mini fan club.

  I pout for a second or two, then take the time apart from Ali to collect myself. My body’s humming with need. I’ve never felt this sexual with another person before. Why do I have this incredibly deep connection with Ali? Is it because she’s a musician and radiates sex? Is it because I’ve hit my peak at thirty? I’m definitely more brazen with her. Maybe she knows exactly how to release this side of me, tiny steps at a time so I’m not overwhelmed.

  I give Ali and her fans space and walk over to the bar. I’m tempted to ask for a drink, but instead I ask for a Coke. Caffeine and cold. I’d rather have coffee, but I don’t think I’m going to get that here. More and more people are entering the V.I.P. lounge.

  “Why are you over here?” Ali asks.

  “This is your time with your fans,” I say. I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m giving her space.

  “No, we’re here spending time together and they just happen to be here.” She winks. She pulls me gently into her arms and takes me over to a table where Mica and her partner are sitting. I scoot into the booth, Ali right at my hip, and smile when she puts her arm around me. She quickly introduces me to some of the elephants and they smile at me, but I know they hate me. I want to giggle behind my hand like a little girl, but I refrain. This is a big step for both of us and I should try being mature.

  Everybody’s talking about Ali’s success and I know I should pay attention because this is who she is, but I feel myself slipping away because I don’t know these people. Besides, the lure of chatting with Emily right now is too strong. I’m realizing that alcohol really does blur the line between reality and fantasy. It’s a lot easier to glide into my imaginary world after three glasses of wine. I’m surprised Em is scolding me for drinking. Apparently I haven’t been the model of etiquette tonight, and she’s not used to me drinking in excess. Perhaps Shakespeare will be more forgiving. It’ll be a good half an hour before I crash into my conservative self again so I might as well enjoy this feeling and share it with somebody who appreciates fine liquor.

  “We have one more stop to make, Mica, so we need to get going,” Ali says. She grabs my hand and pulls me with her out of the booth. Finally! Ali says good-bye to Mica, Mica’s partner, and the elephants, and we walk out into the night. The line to get in is still long and people recognize Ali. While we wait for our cab, Ali poses for photos with some fans. I’m amazed at how gracious and nice she is to complete strangers. I tend to run the other way if somebody yells my name.

  “That was quite the night,” I say. I snuggle up to her as she gives the driver our hotel address and sigh when she puts her arm around me again. I’ve missed her so much. We’re quiet on the ride back. I’m enjoying the drive and Ali’s checking her mail on her phone. I don’t blame her, though. She’s a very busy person, especially since the tour ended and she’s helping Maureen process money and figuring out paychecks and other miscellaneous expenses. When we arrive at the hotel, I slide out and reach for Ali. I want her with me tonight. Tonight we continue celebrat
ing us.

  Chapter Thirty

  Ali takes the key from me because I’m too nervous to find the slot and she has steadier hands.

  “Are you sure about this?” She turns me to face her and I nod. I’m so ready to touch her and be touched. She pushes the door open, and as soon as we’re through, she pulls me to her and we start kissing. It’s sweet, but I want passion. I know she’s being gentle with me because this is a big step for us, but at some point, I’m going to have to get bossy. We head over to the bed and she unzips my dress as I kick off my shoes. I slide off her jacket and start unbuttoning her shirt. We fall back onto the bed, and for a second I’m excited because she’s on top of me and her weight feels wonderful between my legs. She lifts herself off me and I frown at her absence.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I want to look at you.” She smiles. I suddenly realize every single light is on and she really can see everything. I want to cover up, but I want her to see me, too. I wish we could compromise and leave one light on across the room. She props up on her elbow and slowly traces her finger down my neck. I like that. My neck’s extremely sensitive. She traces the strap of my bra, her fingers lightly outlining the lace. My nipples harden and I pray that she gives them attention, too. She is taking her time and I’m going crazy. She’s very serious so I decide a few more minutes won’t kill me. She moves closer to me and begins tracing the lace with her tongue. I arch into her but keep my hands to myself. She alternates between fingertips and her tongue. Watching her is very erotic. Her eyes are partially closed as she continues to kiss and touch me. I can see what she’s going to do next, and my body tightens in anticipation. I can feel the heat of her mouth through my bra and lean into her when her mouth hovers above my nipple. Finally, finally she pulls down the lace and sucks my nipple into her mouth. Her warm, wet, wonderful mouth. My moan is a half scream, and I don’t know if it’s because she’s finally sucking my nipple or from frustration at her tenderness. She moves back up to kiss me and I melt. Her kiss is still gentle and I know she’s holding back.