by H L Day
Paul: Nothing's changed. I still don't want to date you.
Unknown: Who said anything about dating? I'm talking about fucking. We're both single. Why shouldn't we have a bit of no-strings fun? How about it? You can get a proper look at my tattoos.
Paul: I HATE your tattoos.
Unknown: You didn't seem to hate them last night. Or was that some secret dastardly plan you concocted to remove them with your tongue? You're going to have to lick a lot harder than that, if so.
My cheeks flamed at the mental image he was conjuring up, and Anthony chose that exact moment to sit back down and push my coffee across the table. He took one look at my face, his gaze flicking between it and the phone in my hand. "Something wrong?"
I quickly shoved my phone back in my pocket, shaking my head as I desperately searched for a subject change which would deter him from asking who I'd been talking to. "So... party soon. Is it all organized?"
His brow creased. "You're asking me if the annual social event to end all social events with more than five hundred guests, including some of the country's most influential business men and women, as well as celebrities, happening in just over a week, is organized?"
I shifted on my seat as my phone vibrated in my pocket. No prizes for guessing who that was. "I'll take that as a yes, then."
Anthony checked his watch. I knew the signs. It meant he'd spared his deadbeat brother enough time and was itching to get back to work, the word Saturday meaning absolutely nothing to him. He stood. "Any message you want me to pass on to Dad?"
I stared up at him, my phone vibrating again. "Nothing that you'd actually repeat to him, so no. I'll see you at the party, seeing as my presence is apparently crucial. It would be terrible if the black sheep of the family caused any sort of scandal by not turning up."
Anthony frowned, ignoring the “black sheep of the family” comment. I guessed it was too much to hope he'd deny it. "And Christmas?"
I shrugged. That was another impending family horror I had to face. If there was a way of getting out of it, I hadn't found it yet. But I was ever hopeful that something horrible might befall me and save me from yet another year of subtle digs over turkey, with presents that weren't good enough because they weren't as expensive as everyone else's. "Maybe."
As soon as Anthony had gone, I pulled my phone out again.
Unknown: Now I can't get the image of you licking me out of my head.
Unknown: And look what's happened. Lunch break, by the way, just in case you're worried I'm still in the bar.
My mouth fell open at the sight of the picture he'd sent. I quickly angled my phone away before I gave some passing old dear a cardiac arrest with a dick pic. A fully erect dick pic at that, with Indy's hand wrapped around it. I ignored my own cock pushing insistently against my zipper while I tried to think of a suitable response. Good job I was sitting at a table.
Paul: I remember it being bigger than that. Guess I was REALLY drunk last night.
Unknown: Fucker! Want to call and talk dirty to me? Help me get rid of it.
Swallowing was suddenly difficult. Yes, I did want that. I wanted to hear him come again, even if it was only over the phone. As a distraction while I got my libido under control, I added his number, spitefully typing Indigo instead of Indy when it came to inputting his name.
Paul: No.
Indigo: Please. I'll send more pics.
Paul: I'm in a café. I'll get arrested.
I waited for the reply but my phone stayed deafeningly silent. I spent the next twenty minutes finishing my coffee and convincing myself that the silence was a relief.
I GRABBED RUSSELL BY the arm and dragged him into the nearest place we could be alone, which happened to be a stationery cupboard. Large blue eyes blinked at me in shock at the heavy-handed treatment. I glared at him. "Don't you dare look at me like you're completely innocent."
He backed away, knocking a pile of Post-its off the shelf. "What did I do? I didn't do anything."
My glare metamorphosized into incredulousness. "Really? Think about it for a moment. Perhaps something will come back to you."
His brow knitted while he did what I asked. There was no moment where the ball dropped, just never-ending confusion. In the interests of the two of us not spending the rest of our lives squashed together in a small space, I decided to help him out. "The Silver Barrel."
He shook his head.
"Something to do with a phone." Still nothing. "Oh, for God's sake! How many people have you given my number out to?"
His eyes went wide as the penny finally dropped. "The bartender guy?"
I nodded. "Yes, the bartender guy. Why the hell did you give him my number without asking me first? Did it not occur to you that friends don't do that? How would you like it if I went to that dodgy sex dungeon place and gave a huge hairy mustachioed dude in leather chaps your number?"
Russell went so pale he almost blended in with the wall behind him, his voice choked when he eventually managed to force some words out. "That's not the same thing."
"Isn't it?" I laughed as I thought about it, imagining poor, sweet innocent Russell trying to fend off an amorous suitor coming after him with a pair of nipple clamps. "I guess not." Remembering I was supposed to be mad at him, I schooled my face. "I wouldn't do that to you, so you can stop panicking." I paused, deliberately waiting until he'd calmed down. "I'd give him your address instead."
He moved jerkily, dislodging a box of pens which joined the Post-its on the floor. "Paul, don't joke about it. That wouldn't be funny."
"Don't give my phone number away to strangers and I won't have to."
"He said he already had it. That he'd lost it, and didn't want to admit it to you."
I sighed. "And you believed him?"
He finally had the good sense to appear guilty. "Why would he lie?"
I leaned back against the shelving unit. "Because, not everyone's like you. Some people are bloody manipulative."
"So you never gave him your number?"
I gave a long, slow headshake. I'd given Indigo something else but Russell didn't need to know about that. Not any time soon. In fact, not ever if I had my way. It was a one-off that was going to be strictly consigned to the secrets-never-to-be-talked-about shelf.
"Oh!"
"Yeah. Oh!"
"He seemed nice."
There were many things I could think to call Indigo, but nice wasn't necessarily one of them. Horny. Irritating. Infuriating, would all be better descriptions. I gave a grunt which neither confirmed nor denied Russell's statement.
"You can ignore his calls."
"What about the dick pics?"
Russell looked like he was about to choke. "His... what... he didn't... you... I don't believe you... you're just winding me up." His hand flew out and a stack of folders joined the pile on the floor.
"Want to see?"
He staggered backward, knocking the corner of the shelving unit, and holding his hands up as if he was trying to fend me off. "No. I don't even know him."
I was enjoying myself now, and Russell deserved everything he was getting for glibly giving my number out without so much as a second thought or even having the courtesy to let me know he'd done it. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, pretending to open the messages. "I don't think you need to know someone to look at their dick. Not if they're happy to send pictures out to people. I mean, it's not the best one I've ever seen, but I'm happy to share. Seeing as I wouldn't even have it in the first place if it wasn't for you." I took a step forward and held the phone up. "What do you think?"
Russell covered his face with his hands, his voice muffled from behind them. I suspected his eyes were closed as well. "I'm sure it's lovely, but I still have to go in that bar."
"So do I... and I don't see why I should suffer alone." I advanced on him, laughing as he strenuously resisted all attempts to let me prize his hands away from his face. "Just take a peek. How are you ever going to lose your virginity if you can't look at a dick?
"
"I can look at a dick. Just not that one."
The door behind us swung open and I turned to find Gabrielle framed in the doorway. She surveyed the scene in front of her with an arched eyebrow. "Oh! I see."
I frowned. "You see what?"
She waved a hand at the pile of stationery on the floor. "You two are taking a moment together. Sorry for interrupting. I didn't know that you two were friends with benefits."
Russell shook his head vehemently. "We're not. It wasn't like that. Paul was just trying to show me a dick and I didn't want to see it."
Gabrielle's eyes opened wide before she blinked three times in quick succession. "Jesus, Paul! I know you're not getting any, but there's desperate and then there's desperate. No need to reduce yourself to sexual harassment in the workplace. Try and keep it in your trousers, would you? I'm not going to report you because we're friends, but it might not be me that walks in on you next time."
Before I got a chance to explain, she'd already left.
"Oops!"
I turned to stare at Russell. He wore an expression midway between amusement and guilt. The fact that he was finding it funny didn't help. "You need to find her and explain what was really going on before she spreads her version around, because I swear to God if you don't make it clear that I'm not a pervert who corners work colleagues in stationery cupboards and tries to force them to look at his dick, I won't be responsible for my actions."
Russell nodded, before squeezing himself past me. I eyed the pile of stationery on the floor before leaving it exactly where it was. Russell could come back and clean it up later. After all, it was his Mr. Tickle limbs that had knocked it all off.
Chapter Seven
INDIGO: I'm not working tonight.
I stared at the message for way too long. I hadn't heard so much as a peep out of him for two days, ever since the morning after our night together when he'd messaged me in the café. It had been a relief that he'd given up. No, honestly it had. I didn't need any more complications in my life. I already had my family and work, and... Well, that was it really.
Russell had tried to sort out the misunderstanding from the stationery cupboard, but I assumed from some of the “you're a pervert” looks I was still on the receiving end of, that not everyone was buying the explanation. Gabrielle was no help, despite being the source of the gossip. She found it hilariously funny.
I glared down at my phone. If Indy hadn't sent the picture in the first place, there wouldn't have been one to wind Russell up with. Therefore, it was his fault. Another crime to add to his long list of crimes. With that in mind, it was best to ignore him. I put the phone down, picking up the TV remote and flicking through the channels in order to find something worth watching. I lasted ten minutes. Okay, three minutes. But it could have been ten if I'd wanted it to be. I picked up my phone and typed a reply.
Paul: Fascinating. Thanks for sharing that information. I'll write it down in my diary next to all the other pointless stuff people tell me.
Indigo: You're welcome. What are you up to? Want to give me your address so I can come around and see you?
Paul: Haha! Right. Nice try.
The words were easy to type. What wasn't so easy was ignoring my instantaneous arousal at the thought of a repeat performance.
Indigo: Are you on your own?
Paul: None of your business. Why?
Indigo: Just trying to work out if you're turning me down because we CAN'T fuck or because you don't want to. Helps me sort out my plan of attack?
Paul: Attack! Is it a full moon? Sounds a little too vicious. I'll pass, thanks.
Indigo: What happened to the hate sex?
That was one hell of a good question. What had happened to the hate sex? Apparently hate sex was difficult and I was no good at it.
Paul: I'm too nice.
Indigo: :D :D :D :D Oh please. I just had to pick myself up from the floor from laughing too much. Too nice. You! I seriously doubt that. But that's fine. I quite like you anyway.
I shook my head, finally finding a comedy that I'd seen before but that would do nicely for half an hour of mindless entertainment.
Indigo: What are you wearing?
I ignored him.
Indigo: Fine. I can remember how you looked naked anyway. You were HOT. We were HOT together. Is it so terrible that I'm interested in doing it again? And I bet you are too, if only you'd let go of these crazy hang-ups you've got about the past.
I laughed far too loud at a joke on the TV that wasn't even that funny.
Indigo: Okay. My mistake. Sorry. Hopefully, I'll see you in the bar sometime. Have a nice evening, Paul. No hard feelings. You didn't make me any promises. Plus, I get that you were drunk the other night. It's a real shame, though.
He was giving up. Just like that. It should have made me happy so why was I suddenly viewing the rest of the evening as if it was some sort of obstacle to overcome? I'd already had sex with him once. Would it be so terrible to repeat that? Just once more. He was right about us being sexually compatible. It might not be the hate sex I'd planned, but it still didn't have to mean anything. I tapped my phone on my knee while I tried to talk myself out of it.
Paul: I suppose you could come around if you wanted. I've got nothing better to do. It might pass an hour.
I read my message three times before pressing send. Deciding it sounded casual enough to pass muster, I pressed the button. I watched as the second tick appeared to say he'd read it. Except there was no blinking cursor to say he was replying. Oh, for fuck's sake, was he going to give me a bit of payback now? What was he doing? Just as I was contemplating messaging to claim I'd been joking, the cursor flashed for a couple of seconds before a message came through.
Indigo: Address?
Why hadn't I said I'd go to him? I already knew where he lived. Now, I was faced with him not only having my number, but my address as well. My cock really needed to start sparing a bit of blood flow for my brain. It was too late now, though. I'd just have to suck it up. I typed my address out before I could change my mind and hit send.
Indigo: On my way. :) Want me to bring anything?
Paul: A pink elephant.
Indigo: I was thinking more along the lines of a pizza, but sure. Whatever you want. See you soon. X
The kiss irritated me beyond belief. Which was probably ridiculous, considering how long we'd spent the other night with our lips glued together. Besides, he'd probably added it deliberately to wind me up. It didn't mean anything. It didn't mean we were friends. It was just Indy being Indy: irritating and overly friendly.
I spent the next twenty minutes doing what everyone did when they were preparing for an unexpected guest: I tidied up. Then I changed the sheets on my bed before grabbing a quick shower and brushing my teeth. Although, given that I'd no doubt stunk of alcohol during our first sexual interlude, it probably wasn't necessary. It wasn't as if he'd complained or given any sign that it bothered him. Besides, it wasn't like I was trying to impress him. We were going to have a quick fuck and then he was going to leave. That was it. Nothing more.
With that in mind, I didn't bother to get dressed in anything other than jeans and a T-shirt, forsaking a belt and leaving my feet bare. There'd be less to take off which would speed it up. I dropped condoms and lube by the nightstand before going to stand in the middle of the living room. Where was he? He should have been there by now. He worked almost on the doorstep of my workplace, so I knew exactly how long it took to get from one place to the other. Even taking the bus, he should have been there by now. My phone beeped. If this was him saying he'd changed his mind, I was taking a vow of celibacy. A deliberate one this time. Not just one that happened accidentally when I didn't realize how long it had been between sexual encounters.
Russell: I'm on my way round.
Paul: Why?
Russell: You said you weren't doing anything. I bumped into Gabrielle. We decided that we needed a bit of Paul time.
Paul: Well, flatteri
ng as that is, you can't. I'm busy.
Russell: Busy doing what?
The doorbell rang and I swore loudly. I typed out another message on the way, my head still down as I opened the door.
Paul: I've got a date. Sort of. Well, no, not a date. The opposite of a date. I can't explain now. Just don't come around, okay. I wasn't joking about being busy.
Russell: Okay. I can't wait to hear about your date that's not a date. Sounds interesting.
I lifted my head to meet a pair of beady eyes. A pair of beady, glass eyes connected to an overabundance of pink fur. The man holding the huge, furry pink elephant shifted it slightly to the side so that I could see his face. He grinned. "You have no idea how difficult it was to get hold of this at such short notice."
Actually, I had a pretty good idea, considering it was almost half the size of Indigo. He thrust it into my arms and then took the opportunity to squeeze himself in the gap between the door and the elephant while I was still struggling to see. I pulled it away from my face and closed the door. "What the hell am I meant to do with this?"
Indigo shrugged. "No idea. You asked for it though, so I assumed you must have something in mind. I did think it was a bit of a weird request for a full-grown man. But you know, whatever floats your boat. I'm not one to judge."
I followed as he wandered off into the kitchen, apparently having taken it upon himself to take a self-guided tour. "You knew I was joking."
He paused by the fridge. "Were you though? You see I had this little scenario playing in my head." He waved a finger by his temple. "I'd get here. You'd say where's the elephant? I'd have nothing and then you'd use that as an excuse to get rid of me. So... I wasn't going to take the risk." He smiled at the elephant. The elephant I still held in my arms. "I have to say, you're kind of cute together."
I put the elephant on the kitchen floor, folding my arms over my chest and watching with a frown as he opened the fridge door and perused the contents before extracting a bottle of water. "What are you doing?"
He held the bottle of water up. "Getting my own refreshments because I didn't think you'd offer me any."
