All She Wants

by Anna Cruise

  “And clothes? Don't tell me you wear a size 4, too?”

  “Pretty sure you can put your clothes back on just as easily as you stripped them off last night.”

  I felt a surge of anger. He was so blasé, so unconcerned. And so totally not interested in me.

  “I can't wear the same thing I wore last night.”

  “Why?” he asked, strolling into the bedroom. “Spill too much tequila on them?”

  “No, asshole,” I said. “Because they're wrinkled. And because no one wears the same clothes two days in a row.”

  “I do.” He lifted his duffle bag off the floor and set it on the bed. “Sometimes I wear the same clothes for a week.”

  “Well, that's just awesome,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “And hygienic. I'm sure you smell great those weeks.”

  “I usually don't care what I smell like when I'm saving the world.” He produced a fresh pair of khakis and a black polo. “But banquets? Need to smell good for those.”

  He winked at me and brushed past, headed into the bathroom.

  “Where are my keys?”

  “You're not leaving.” He closed the door.

  “What the fuck?” I grabbed the door handle and turned it. Stuart's back was to me. He'd already stepped out of his shorts and my breath caught in my throat as I stared at his ass.

  He turned around and I took a small step backward. He watched my eyes travel downward, an amused expression on his face as I drank in his broad chest, his smooth abs and his big, beautiful cock standing at half-mast.

  I dropped the comforter, letting it pool on the bathroom floor. His smile deepened.

  “No time,” he said as he pulled back the curtain and stepped into the shower.

  He yanked it shut and I stood there, wondering if he meant he didn't have time to fuck me or if I didn't have time to leave.

  NINE

  A knock sounded on the door. I stared at the shower for a second, debating. I could join him. Push him up against the tiled wall and wrap my legs around him and fuck him senseless. But I'd felt the sting of rejection last night and I wasn't sure I wanted to feel it again. Guys didn't reject me. Not ever.

  The knock sounded again. I picked up the comforter and wrapped it around me and headed to the living room. The door was already opening.

  A girl a hell of a lot younger than me looked at me with surprised eyes. “Oh,” she said, blushing furiously. “I'm sorry. I thought the room was empty.”

  “Well, it's not,” I snapped.

  Her eyes widened and she backed up. “I'm sorry. I'll...we can clean it later.”

  “You're the maid?” I asked, making a face.

  She nodded.

  I looked her over. “How old are you? Twelve?”

  She stiffened. “I'm seventeen. And I've worked here for almost a year.”

  She was about the same height as me, dressed in khaki shorts and a blue t-shirt with the motel's logo emblazoned on the front. A lightbulb went off.

  “Did you wear that to work?” I asked.

  She stared at me. “Excuse me?”

  “That uniform,” I said, waving my hand impatiently at her. “Or do you change here?”

  “I...I wore it here,” she said, clearly flustered.

  I sighed. “Shit.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “What about a lost and found? Do you guys have one here?”

  The girl frowned. “Well, yeah, but...”

  I didn't let her finish. “Do people leave clothes?”

  “I don't know.” She stared at me. “I guess. Sometimes. I haven't looked in there in a while.”

  I reached for my purse and pulled out my wallet. I held up a twenty. “Twenty bucks.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “Twenty bucks if you'll let me look at lost and found. And I find something to wear.”

  “Excuse me? Did you lose your luggage?”

  I dropped the comforter and she stared at me, eyes bulging as I hurried into the bedroom and grabbed my clothes. I didn't bother with a bra or underwear, just slipped the shirt over my head and shimmied into the pants.

  “Something like that.” I marched toward the front door and waited, looking at her expectantly. “Well? Do you want an extra twenty bucks or not?”

  The girl started to say something, then swallowed. She glanced at the bathroom, listened to the water rain down from the shower. She looked back at me. “Follow me.”

  Ten minutes later, I was back in Stuart's room, dressed in a floral sundress I hoped to God wasn't crawling with fleas or bedbugs. It was one size too small but all that managed to do was shove my boobs closer together and provide a skimpier hemline. I was fine with that. I'd rummaged to the bottom of the lost and found bin, my fingers closing on a long, wide barrette. I'd sweet-talked—okay, bullied—Samantha, the maid, into letting me use her hairbrush as well as the meager make-up she had in her purse.

  “No lice, right?” I'd asked as I yanked the brush through my hair. She'd just stared at me, her mouth open.

  With my hair clipped back, a fresh coat of eyeliner and a pink drugstore lipstick that, under normal circumstances, I wouldn't be caught dead wearing, I thought I'd cleaned up pretty well, all things considered.

  I sat on the couch, thumbing through Instagram on my phone, when the bathroom door finally opened. A rush of steam escaped and Stuart emerged, his brown hair slicked back, his skin still rosy from the heat of the shower.

  He saw me on the couch and did a double-take.

  “What the...?” He glanced around the room. “Where did you get that?”

  “What?” I asked innocently.

  “The dress.” He narrowed his eyes, but not before I saw them linger on my breasts and the ample amount of skin peeking out from the hem. “Did you find the keys? Leave?”

  I crossed my legs, hiking the skirt up even higher, letting him see there was absolutely nothing underneath. His back went rigid and he swallowed hard.

  “You told me we didn't have time,” I reminded him. “Remember?”

  He cleared his throat and nodded. He turned to go into the bedroom but not before I saw the telling bulge in his pants.

  I smiled in satisfaction. Maybe he wasn't as immune to me as he pretended to be.

  TEN

  I didn't like pretty girls.

  And I especially didn't like the pretty girl seated at the table with us at the banquet. Stuart had given his speech and we were seated at a table set for eight. Unfortunately, there was one too many people parked at the table.

  “You are such an inspiration,” the pretty girl sitting with us gushed, her wide, green eyes glued on Stuart.

  Stuart smiled at her and picked up the glass of ice water in front of him. “You're going to make me blush.”

  Brynn smiled back. I stared at her name tag and grimaced. What the hell kind of name was Brynn?

  The blond girl picked up a miniature quiche and popped it in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, wiping her mouth daintily with the linen napkin. “I'm serious,” she said. “I've read every article I could find on you. I follow you on Twitter, I read your blog. I can't get enough of you.” She stopped for a minute, blushing. “I mean, your work. The stuff you do. You're the reason I came here today.”

  “Well, he sort of is the only reason anyone would come,” I said pointedly. “Since he's the only speaker...”

  Brynn set her napkin down in her lap and stared at it. Stuart shot me a disapproving look. I reached for my cup of coffee and swallowed a large gulp. I wasn't used to having my first cup of coffee with lunch.

  “Thank you,” he said. “It's nice to meet people who understand why I do what I do. What I've committed my life to. Even if it's only a handful.”

  I took a quick glance around the room. Less than thirty people had shown up for his presentation and, by the look of things, the university had expected a larger crowd. There were a dozen 8-top tables and most of them sat empty. Several of the people who'd come for Stuart's talk ha
d left almost immediately after his talk. The serving tables were still filled with platters of uneaten appetizers. I felt bad for him. Sort of.

  Her face brightened and she looked up. “Oh, I do!” she exclaimed. “I mean, literacy is sooo important to me. I did my Girl Scout Gold Award on a literacy project.”

  “Girl Scouts?” I said, my voice laced with disdain.

  Stuart kicked me under the table. “Tell me about it.”

  Brynn nodded. “I...I went all the way through. Girl Scouts, I mean.”

  I rolled my eyes and speared a piece of pineapple. I shoved the entire thing in my mouth so I wouldn't be tempted to offer commentary.

  “There's a school in southeast San Diego,” she said. “No library. And I just didn't think that was right. I mean, these kids didn't have access to anything other than text books or what few books their teachers might have on hand in their classrooms. The closest public library was five miles away and the demographics just don't support getting these kids there. Either they didn't have transportation or they came from single parent homes or whatever.”

  I swallowed the pineapple. “So you built them a library?”

  She looked at me with those eyes. They looked like green grapes. “Yes.”

  “Like, with wood and stuff?”

  “No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “There was an unused storage room at the school. We turned that into a library.”

  “So you turned a closet into a library?”

  “It was a big storage room,” she said defensively. “We did book drives in the community. I wrote to publishing houses and bookstores, asking for donations. Within four months, we managed to turn that storage room into a library with over one thousand titles. One thousand books these kids now had access to.”

  “That's great,” Stuart said, smiling at her.

  “And I did it because of you,” Brynn said, her eyes back on her lap. “So, you see, you really are an inspiration to me.”

  I looked at Stuart. “So you build libraries, too?”

  I'd glanced briefly at the banner hanging in the hall as we made our way to the banquet. I'd seen the word 'literacy' and saw his organization's name but I still had no clue exactly what he did.

  “Glad you listened to my speech,” he said dryly.

  I didn't want to admit that I'd tuned him out. It wasn't that he was boring or spoke in a monotone or anything, but I was sort of focused on other things. Like the way his black polo clung perfectly to his shoulders and chest. The way his khakis hugged his hips. And what I knew he looked like underneath those clothes. I'd shifted in my seat, the growing wetness between my legs uncomfortable.

  “I did listen,” I lied.

  “I do what Brynn does,” he said. He picked up a cracker smeared with cheese and took a bite. “Just on a much larger scale.”

  “A much, much larger scale.” Brynn smiled dreamily. “How many books did you say you've distributed?”

  “Five million.” Stuart polished off the cracker. “And counting.”

  “Isn't that McDonald's slogan?” I asked.

  He just smiled. “They feed people's bellies. I help feed their minds. Their souls.”

  Brynn sighed loudly and I resisted the urge to vomit up the bruschetta and mini quiches I'd eaten.

  “Is it true that you're making a trip down to Mexico while you're here?” she asked him.

  He nodded. “Actually, I am.”

  She bit her lip. “Do you...would you maybe need some volunteers?”

  I stared at her, then at Stuart. “What?” I asked. “You mean you're not leaving today?”

  This was the first I'd heard of a Mexico trip. Or him sticking around. From what Sheridan had said, I was taking him back to the airport immediately after the banquet.

  “No,” he told me. He turned to the blond girl to his right. “I'd love to have you come along.”

  Brynn smiled like she'd just won the lottery and I wanted to stab her grape eyeball with a fork.

  “How many volunteers do you need?” I asked.

  Stuart lifted an eyebrow. “What?”

  “How many?” I demanded.

  “I don't know,” he said. “Anyone who wants to come is welcome, I guess.”

  “Fine,” I said, picking up my glass of water and draining it. “Sign me up.”

  “You?” he asked, an incredulous look on his face.

  “Why not?” I glared at him. “I like books. And helping people.” I tried not to trip over the words as I said them.

  “Okay,” he said slowly, an amused smile on his face. “If you say so.”

  Brynn clapped her hands together and I noticed her bitten down fingernails. “Oh my gosh. This is so exciting!” Her purse was sitting on the empty chair next to her and she reached inside, pulling out a small notebook with a pen threaded through the spiral. “Okay. What do I need to know?”

  Stuart's smile widened and he leaned back in his chair. “I'm going down on Tuesday. Planning to spend the night and head back here Wednesday. I have an official meeting me at the border—he'll drive us to Ensenada. The books are being delivered separate—they should arrive tomorrow, I think. I'm there mostly so the local news can do a story, a feature for the paper. We'll go to a school on Tuesday afternoon, then a community building the next morning. Their goal is to distribute books to kids in the area. I'm not sure yet if we'll have access to the kids or if it's just a drop and go thing.”

  Brynn nodded, her pen flying across the pad of paper. “Okay,” she said. “When and where do we meet?”

  I interrupted. “Why don't you give me your number?”

  She looked at me, her pen poised in mid-air.

  “I'm technically Stuart's handler,” I told her. “He and I can finalize the details and I'll forward the information to you.”

  She frowned and Stuart turned to look at me, his lips twitching into a smile. “Technically, I think you're done as my handler.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “You were supposed to escort me here,” he said. He looked around the room. “The presentation is over.”

  “True,” I said. I ran my finger along the edge of my glass of water. “But I'm willing to offer my...services for a longer period of time.” His eyebrows lifted again and I smiled at him. “If you'd like.”

  I shifted, swinging my legs to the side closest to him. The skirt rode up just a little and I shimmied in my chair, hiking it higher, my eyes never leaving his face. I watched as his gaze traveled the length of me, stopping at my thighs. His eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened.

  He lifted his eyes so he was looking right at me and I didn't care if Brynn was there or dead or even if she'd be coming with on Tuesday. Because Stuart was totally locked in on me. And Grape Eyes didn't stand a chance.

  “I'd like,” he finally said, his voice low.

  I rubbed my hand on my thigh, pulling the dress higher, smiling in satisfaction as Stuart sucked in his breath.

  “Me, too,” I half-whispered.

  ELEVEN

  “Where to?” I asked.

  Stuart pushed the button on the door and lowered the passenger window. We'd finished eating and I'd dutifully entered Brynn's information into my contacts on my phone before we left. All I wanted to do was go back to Stuart's room and fuck him for hours but even I wasn't going to put it that bluntly.

  “I don't want to go back to the pier,” he said.

  The sex-fueled afternoon I'd envisioned vanished. “What?”

  “All I've seen since I've been here are two hotel rooms and a banquet hall.” He reached into the backpack he'd brought with him and found a pair of sunglasses. He settled them over his eyes, then turned to me and smiled. “Show me this city you love so much.”

  I wanted to show him something else. God, did I want to show him something else.

  I swallowed my disappointment. “What do you want to see?”

  He shrugged. “I don't know. Surprise me.”

  If it hadn't been broad daylight in
the middle of a semi-full parking lot on campus, I would have slid my seat back and ripped down his zipper and surprised him with a mind-numbing blow job.

  “What do you want to do?” I asked.

  “Surprise me,” he repeated.

  I sighed. The only kinds of surprises I was good at were sexual ones. I shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the parking lot. I adjusted the radio, hitching the volume up a notch when I recognized the song.

  “You like Blink?” Stuart asked.

  “Everyone in San Diego likes Blink,” I told him. “It's like a law. They're from here.”

  He grinned. “Good to know.”

  The sun was blinding, the sky blue and cloudless, and I reached for my own sunglasses. What the hell was I going to do with him? I could take him to Horton Plaza or Fashion Valley, my favorite haunts when I wasn't at the clubs or the beach. But he didn't strike me as the kind of guy who liked to shop.

  The beach. I could take him to the beach.

  “I need to stop by the house first,” I said, hooking a left at the light.

  San Diego State had a sort of ghetto version of sorority row. There were no beautiful Georgian style homes surrounded by sweeping lawns, their Greek flags waving proudly from a flag pole. Most Greek houses were converted apartment buildings, side by side on a stretch of College Avenue. My sorority house was a block over and was an actual house, a two-story white stucco house with a postage stamp-sized front lawn and an oversized driveway. I'd moved from the dorms to the house the summer before my sophomore year, sharing a room with Sheridan on the upper floor. Even though my own house was less than twenty minutes away, this was what I considered home now. It didn't matter that my only real friend was Sheridan and I didn't care that I had to work hard to sneak guys past some of my prudish sisters. I belonged in that house.

  I pulled into the driveway and shifted the car into park. “You wanna wait here or come in with me?”

  “How long are you going to be?”

  I glanced down at the borrowed sundress I was wearing. “Long enough to get rid of this filthy thing.”

  “I kind of like how that filthy thing looks on you,” he commented.