by Lisa De Jong
“Ahem.”
Both our heads snapped back to Kenneth who looked like he had just experienced a drive-by colonic. “Hmmm, interesting,” he sneered. “Looks like those… special skills… aren’t going to waste after all, though I have to say, they could be put to better use. All the same, you know where to find me if you change your mind, Kamilla.” Then he slapped a hundred dollar bill on the bar along with his business card, summoned his cronies, and turned away.
I knew that if I didn’t intervene, Blaine would fly over the bar and beat Kenneth into the hardwood. His fists were balled at his sides, and his lips were drawn so tight that they were white. I could feel the heat of rage radiating from his trembling body. He was beyond pissed and if I didn’t act fast, Kenneth would be leaving in an ambulance and Blaine in a squad car.
So I did what any normal young woman would do when an incredibly hot man was turning her on with his bad boy charm. I pressed my hands to his chest, stood on my tiptoes, and kissed the hell out of him.
Blaine didn’t reciprocate at first, being that I had caught him totally off guard. But once his lips started working with mine, his strong arms pulling me flush against his body, I could’ve sworn that Kenneth, his butt-buddies and the rest of the bar had fallen away, bringing us right back to our little island off the coast of Dive. It had been a while since we had been here, but now that we were, I never wanted to leave.
Blaine let his tongue caress mine, and I felt myself melt in his hands. I wasn’t worried though. He had me. Blaine had always had me, no matter how hard I tried to fight against that fact.
“What was that for?” he asked against my lips, our foreheads still touching.
I touched my lips with his once more. “You’re hot when you’re mad.”
He squeezed me tighter to him, splaying his large hand just above my backside. I could feel the front of his jeans growing stiffer by the second. “Only when I’m mad?”
I giggled. I couldn’t help it. This guy knew he was drop-dead delicious, and something about him made me feel like a damn schoolgirl.
Blaine stood up straight and looked over my shoulder. It was his turn to smile smugly, and I let him have his moment. With my body still fused with his, he grabbed the $100 off the bar and held it up. “Drinks on this asshole!” he said, pointing at Kenneth, who was bubbling over with fury. But he wasn’t an idiot. He knew he had his daddy’s money and power to hide behind but he wasn’t willing to suffer an epic ass whooping just to prove that theory.
The patrons around the bar erupted into cheers, and Blaine and I reluctantly broke apart to serve bottles of beer. Many gave us knowing smiles and winks while Blaine’s fan-girls shot me obvious scowls. I had gotten used to them. They were like gnats - insignificant, annoying as hell, and impossible to get rid of. No matter how many times Blaine swatted them away, they just kept coming back.
Once we had distributed the beers, and Kenneth had retreated with his tail between his legs, Blaine turned to me, his brown eyes smoldering. The fire that had ignited between us since the moment our lips touched was still kindling, and the way he was looking at me only fanned the flames between my thighs.
He stepped forward, bringing his lips down to my ear. I shivered as they brushed the shell. “Care to tell me how you know Kenneth?”
“Care to tell me how you know him?”
He lifted his head, a small frown resting between his brows. I could see the internal battle playing out in his expressive eyes. With a resigned sigh, he nodded. “Yes. Tonight. I’m taking you home with me.”
“Excuse me?” The butterflies in my stomach broke out into a choreographed happy dance, flash mob style.
“Don’t get excited. I’m not giving it up no matter how badly you want it,” he teased. “I just want to talk. And I want to show you something. Ok?”
I was nodding before he even finished his sentence. “Ok. I want to talk to you too.”
This was it. This was my chance to tell him how I felt. But what would I tell him? How did this type of thing go? I had only been on the receiving end of those awkward conversations, and my reactions were less than gracious. Oh shit, would Blaine laugh in my face? Could I blow this thing between us with my tendency to obsess over every freakin’ thing?
“Breathe, baby,” he murmured in my ear, his warm breath blanketing my bitter thoughts. “Breathe, Kami. It’s ok.”
I listened to his words, letting them pull me back to the surface. Bringing me back to him. That’s when I felt the fresh droplets of sweat on my forehead. My skin was clammy and hot, and my hands were trembling. I let out the breath I had been unknowingly holding, my lungs whining at the loss of oxygen. I had nearly sent myself into panic attack. Again. Shit.
Blaine rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, you don’t have to do this if you-”
“No, I want to,” I insisted, cutting him off. “I mean, I want to go to your place, Blaine. If you still want to talk.”
He smiled, and it was pure and real. Not laced with hidden malice. Not infused with lust or desire. It was an honest-to-goodness happy smile. And his smile made me smile.
“Have I ever told you how much I love it when you say my name?” he asked, grabbing my hips and pulling me closer.
“Do you…Blaine?” I replied sweetly. I didn’t have the guts to tell him how much I loved it too. And how I craved to scream it.
He let out what sounded like a hiss between his teeth. “Keep talking like that, and I might shut this place down early.”
“Sure, bud. Mick will have your head for that,” I chuckled. Reflexively, I scanned the perimeter for him, not wanting to get caught flirting again.
“Yeah, right,” Blaine snorted.
He opened his mouth to say something else, but CJ came barreling up to the bar, completely trashed. He tried to flop onto a stool, missed it, and tried three more times before getting himself settled.
“Holy fuuuuck, dude! I am so fuckin’ wasted!” he slurred, slumping over on the bar.
I grabbed a glass and filled it to the brim with water, setting it in front of him. CJ could barely lift his head to drink it.
“Dude, drink. You know your dad is gonna flip once he sees how sloppy drunk you are.”
CJ made a face, but picked up the glass and chugged. He set it down empty and hiccupped. “B, get me some food so I can soak this shit up. Please?”
Blaine let out an annoyed huff before turning for the kitchen. I went to swipe CJ’s empty glass when his hand reached out to grab my forearm.
“Hey,” he rasped. “You like him, don’t you?”
Reflexively, my eyes went to the direction of Blaine’s retreating back that was being swallowed by the crowd. I looked back at CJ and shrugged.
“And he likes you.” It wasn’t a question.
I pulled my arm away from his weak grasp and turned to refill his glass.
“So what’s wrong with you?”
I spun on my heel to face his sweaty, dazed face, my eyes narrowed in irritation. “Excuse me?”
“You know,” CJ replied, leaning forward. “What’s wrong with you? What’s your sob story? Blaine likes that type.”
I stepped towards him, a hand on my hip. “What type?”
“The broken ones. The ones with issues. The chicks that need to be saved and look at him like a knight in shining fucking armor.” He closed his eyes, and his mouth curled up on one corner before he laid his head on the bar. “The fucked up, damaged girls. Just like his mom. He needs that. All part of his Captain Save-a-Hoe complex. He needs to rescue them.” Then he was out like a light.
What the hell?
Before I could smack CJ across the back of the head to wake him so he could tell me more, Blaine appeared with a basket of food.
“Wake up, asshole. I’m calling you a cab,” he said, setting the burger and fries down next to his cousin.
Shaken by CJ’s words but not wanting to let it show, I plastered on my mask and gave Blaine a pensive smile. Questions ran through my
head on an endless conveyer belt, each one leaving me more and more unsure of what I should do. But I needed answers. And the only way I could get them was to ask.
We finished our evening in comfortable silence, brushing against each other and stealing lustful gazes whenever we got the chance. I had to admit, I was still excited at the prospect of being alone with Blaine, despite what his motives could have been. I wanted him. So. Damn. Much. But something inside me needed more than just the physical release that I knew he could provide. A part of me that had been forced into self-preservation, blocking itself off from the love that it desperately needed to thrive. This…feeling… had nothing to do with my head. Even my lady bits had to take a backseat to the foreign emotions.
Yet CJ’s words continued to replay in my head, nagging my rationality until it gave into doubt. Could I really trust Blaine? Could he only be drawn to my scarred, fragile psyche, feeling some strange, deep-seated need to rescue me from my demons? I knew if that answer was yes that I wouldn’t survive it. I couldn’t come back from that type of pain. I had already lived through so much. I had already reached my limit of heartache for this lifetime. I wanted to open up to Blaine, I truly did. But I wouldn’t be some pet project. I wouldn’t be a pathetic charity case. And because I refused to be just another broken girl in need of fixing, I knew that I could never tell Blaine who I really was.
Blaine would soon realize that, no matter how hard he tried, I was beyond fixing. Because you can’t fix what was never really right in the first place.
Chapter 16
Blaine
I didn’t really know what to expect. I just knew that I needed to be with her. I needed her in my space, in my arms. I needed to know that she was safe for the night. It was damn pathetic, but it was my truth. And the closer we were to approaching that truth, her following behind me in her Nissan Sentra, the stronger that need grew.
I needed to have Kami tonight.
Every part of my body was screaming for her. And the way she kissed me just hours before, told me everything that I needed to know. The way her nipples hardened instantly against my chest. The way she shivered when my fingers found that patch of exposed skin just above the waist of her low-rise jeans. The way she moaned into my mouth whenever I sucked her tongue. Oh yeah, Kami needed me too.
But I wanted to do this right. I needed to give her a reason to trust me, to never doubt me. I needed her to trust me with her heart, as well as her body. And something told me that that would be harder than trying to get CJ to go 24 hours without talking about his junk and all the sordid shit he does with it.
We pulled up to my house, parking side by side in the driveway. It was late/early and pitch-black out, but she still seemed to appraise the yard and outdoor furnishings intently.
“You live in a house?” she asked, obviously surprised. She ran her fingers over the wicker chair on the porch.
“Yeah?” I didn’t know why it sounded more like a question. For some reason, her approval seemed more crucial than ever. Of course, I wanted to impress her, but it was more than that. I wanted her to feel comfortable here. I wanted her to be at home in my place, maybe even enough to call it her own…
Where the fuck did that come from?
I shook the insane thoughts from my head and grasped her hand, threading my fingers through hers. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
Her careful assessment of my home continued when I ushered her through the hall and into the living room. Her big green eyes danced from every piece of artwork, every houseplant, every picture. Then she would glance back at me and smile, as if trying to make the connection.
I rubbed the back of my neck nervously. I had no idea why the hell I felt so anxious. It’s not like she was the first woman I’d had here. But, if I was being honest with myself, she was certainly the most significant.
“Would you like something to drink? I have wine, beer, water, soda…”
“Wine, please,” she smiled, appraising my collection of shot glasses on the special shelving I had installed to house them. They spanned most of the dining area leading to the kitchen. “Oh wow, how many of these do you have?”
“Um, I don’t know. I lost count. Dozens, I suspect,” I called from the kitchen, watching as she picked up a few that had caught her eye. I joined her, handing over a glass of red wine. She took a long sip and hummed her approval, causing more than one of my body parts to swell with pride.
“I like to pick up a few whenever I visit a new place.”
“You like to travel?” she asked, fingering one with a red, animated crab on the side that said Myrtle Beach.
“Yeah,” I said, before taking a sip from my own glass. “You?”
“I guess,” she shrugged. “I mean, I have traveled quite a bit, so I guess I should say I enjoy it.”
As if she didn’t mean to offer so much about herself, Kami cringed before taking another hefty gulp. I noticed that she didn’t like to talk about herself. At first, I found it a refreshing change from the normal chicks that would prattle off about any and every trivial detail of their lives. I thought maybe she was a bit shy or just a really great listener. Kami hardly ever divulged anything about herself, though. I wouldn’t even know her full name, age, and birthday if it hadn’t been on her job application.
Not wanting to spoil our easy banter, I decided not to push for more. I set my glass down and made my way to the stereo system. Kami loved music, and my hope was that it would soothe her enough to open up.
I was right. As Imagine Dragons crooned out the first haunting notes of “Demons,” Kami began swaying from side to side, singing along softly. I couldn’t really hear her, but I knew she had an amazing voice from the few times I had heard her sing along with AngelDust. She didn’t think anyone could hear her - I could tell she wasn’t singing for attention or praise - but Kami was a natural. Any note that Angel could hit, she matched it effortlessly. She knew every run and even incorporated her own adlibs when she was really into it. I wanted to ask her why she didn’t perform with the band but I knew she would just brush me off. Either that or clam up and withdraw. Tonight was all about the opposite. I wanted Kami to open herself to me in every way.
“You like them?” I asked, situating myself behind her, close enough that her ass lightly brushed against my front, as she continued her little dance. Her wineglass was empty, and I knew she was feeling the effects. I took it from her and set it down, freeing her hands to explore further.
“Mmm hmm,” she answered in her singsong voice. She picked up a shot glass with a picture of a green leaf on it and turned to face me with an accusatory glare.
“Amsterdam,” I answered with a shrug.
“You’ve been to The Netherlands?”
I nodded and reached past her to grab one that boasted the Eiffel Tower. “It was closed when I went but it really is spectacular. Especially at night. I’ve heard New Years is crazy there! I definitely gotta do it.”
“Wow,” she said, exchanging the memento from the marijuana capital for one from the city of romance. “That’d be awesome. I can only imagine.”
“Go with me.”
I pinned her big green eyes with my gaze, not a trace of humor in my expression. I meant every word. I wanted to show her things. I wanted to take her places she had never been before. I wanted to create a world so safe and secure for her that she would never, ever feel the need to shut down again. And I didn’t even know her. Not the way I yearned to.
“That’s crazy,” she muttered, putting the shot glass back on the shelf and picking up one of Big Ben.
“Why is that?”
“Well, for starters, I don’t even know you, Blaine.”
Gently, I pulled her face towards mine. “Get to know me.”
My lips were on hers in an instant, my tongue tracing her pouty lips. I kissed her deeply before pulling back. Her eyes fluttered open, dilated and hooded from eroticism and wine.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I met you,” I
whispered, my thumb stroking her cheek.
“You damn near did,” she smiled.
“Hmmm, that’s not how I remembered it. I believe it was you who tried to kiss me.” I made a tsking sound before placing another peck on the corner of her mouth. I couldn’t help myself. She had the sweetest, fullest lips I had ever tasted.
“Whatever! Don’t pretend that you weren’t practically wagging that metal studded tongue at me! You knew exactly what you were doing!”
I narrowed my eyes and took a tiny step back. “So you like the tongue ring?”
“What?”
“Do you like it?” I rasped, dropping my voice an octave. “Does it feel good to you?”
“Um, uh,” Kami sputtered before swallowing. Without bothering to ask, she grabbed my wine glass and downed its contents.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I laughed. She tried to feign offense before succumbing to her own amusement.
“Hey, where’s this one from?” she asked, once we had both calmed down and diverted our attention back to the shot glasses.
I took the blank, nondescript glass from her hand and turned it over in my fingers. “Dive.”
“Dive? Why would you take one from the bar you work at?” Picking up another unmarked glass, she frowned with confusion. “This one from Dive too?”
“Yep.”
“O-kay. Seems kinda silly to put these up with all the other ones that are obviously significant to you.”
I smiled, stepping in closer to her. Close enough to smell the vanilla and orchid scents of her shampoo. “These are significant to me too. The most significant. This is the shot glass your lips touched the first night I met you. This is the one you used when we shared a Screaming Orgasm.”
She stared at me in stunned silence for a beat before clearing her throat. “So… you just go around collecting every glass I drink from?”
“Yep.” I took a step forward, causing our fronts to touch. I could feel her heart beat faster with the move. “Every. Single. One.”
