The Brooklyn Book Boyfriends

by Kayley Loring

  When I see Roxy dragging Aimee out of the ladies’ room, I know that something has shifted for her, but this train has already left the station. I will lean out as far as I have to and grab Aimee’s hand to pull her back onboard. Roxy deposits her in front of me and then skips away.

  I put my jacket on and I’m ready to go. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Really? Now? I mean. I probably shouldn’t leave Roxy. She’s a surprisingly fragile girl, she won’t want me to leave without her, she’s …”

  “Leaving without you. Right now.”

  “What?” She snaps her head toward the door just as Roxy waves to us, her arm around the guy she’s been sitting on since they arrived. Aimee looks down at her purse and pulls out her phone. “Oh. She’s going home with him,” she confirms. “She texted me his address.”

  “Good,” I say. “That’s smart.”

  “Yeah. She’s a real wise lady.”

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Like where?” She wrinkles her nose, smirking. “You want to take me to some motel in Queens, like I’m your dirty little secret?”

  “Darlin’, in half an hour you will wish I had taken you to a motel in Queens.”

  “That’s strangely intriguing.”

  “You’ve got a jacket, yeah?

  “Yeah. Roxy didn’t want me to wear it, but I insisted. She dressed me tonight.”

  She looks down and re-fastens a little button that’s come undone. I catch a guy ogling her and give him a look that makes him physically back off.

  “I’m a big fan of Roxy’s work, believe me, but you’ll need that jacket.” I take the jacket from her and hold it up so she can slip her arms into the sleeves. She looks back at me when I rest my hands on her shoulders for one second, two seconds, three.

  I shove my hands into my jacket pockets to keep from throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her into the back office.

  Make it last all night.

  “How are those shoes you’re wearing? Comfortable?”

  “Comfortable enough.”

  “And you? You’re comfortable? With this?”

  She purses her lips again. Those full glossy lips that remind me of my youth and kisses that lasted days, those lips that look like they taste like strawberries, those lips that look like they could suck a dead man back to life. There’s something she’s not telling me, but after what she has told me, I don’t know if anything else matters right now. She nods once. Affirmative. “Yes. Let’s burn everything to the ground.”

  I like that. “Yes. Let’s.”

  I want to take her hand and never let go, but not in here. I lead her to the door, hold it open and inhale the delicious scent of her as she passes through it. It’s weird not having my phone on me, but this feels right. Walking out into this late spring night with this woman feels perfect.

  The fact that I’m able to hail a cab right outside of Bitters just proves that we’re doing the right thing at the right time. I hold the car door open for Aimee and she leans in so close to my face as she steps into the backseat, her grinning mouth inches from mine. That dimple. The whites of those eyes are glowing, and it makes the blue seem even darker somehow. I’m going to drown in those deep blue eyes tonight, but not until we both live a little first.

  “To Coney Island, sir,” I say to the driver. “Luna Park.”

  The driver grunts and nods and we’re off.

  I look over at Aimee, who’s smiling and fastening her seatbelt.

  “You ever been?”

  “No, I haven’t. I’ve been wanting to!”

  “Well, you’re gonna get what you want tonight.”

  I hold her hand now and I’m so aware of how my heart is racing when she whispers, “Yes. I hope you do too.”

  I’m dying to kiss her, but I’m not going to get too close until we’re on the Parkway and no one can see us. It’s not easy to hold back, but I’ve waited this long, I can wait a few more minutes. She weaves her fingers through mine and rests her head back.

  “Have you been to Coney Island?”

  “I haven’t been since I was a teenager. We used to go pretty often when I was a kid. It’s fun. In a weirdly beautiful, slightly dirty, all-American kind of way.”

  “Sounds appropriate.” She bites her lower lip and she may as well have bitten mine. I feel it. I’m considering telling the driver to take us to the nearest hotel, when she asks: “What were you like when you were a teenager?”

  “A lot like I am now, but skinnier and just a little bit reckless.”

  “Long hair?”

  “Always. I promised my mom I’d never cut it short.”

  “Tattoos?”

  “Tattoos are from the summer I spent in Ireland, between high school and Wharton.”

  She lowers her eyes for a second. She’s thinking about how I met Keaton at Wharton, I know it. He probably told her about that. I tighten my grip on her hand.

  “That was also the summer I picked up the smoking habit.”

  She looks up at me, smiling. “Did you really quit?”

  “I really did.”

  “I’m really glad.”

  “Good. What were you like in high school?”

  She sighs and fixes her apologetic eyes on mine. “A lot like I am now, but skinnier. And never as reckless as I wanted to be.”

  Fuck it—we’re on a four-lane street. It’s dark. No one will see us.

  I take her sweet face in my hands and finally kiss that mouth. Soft and quick and then I pull back so I can watch as her eyelids close and her lips part. Her hand squeezes my thigh, and my hands are up in her thick, silky hair. She gently tugs on my lower lip with her teeth, an invitation and a dare, and I’m not aware of anything anymore. Nothing but the way she somehow manages to tease and satisfy me at the same time, with her lips and tongue and hands. Nothing but the way she makes me feel. Nothing but her.

  I want her.

  I want all of her.

  I want to do everything with this woman, and we won’t sleep until I have.

  Her lips don’t taste like strawberries, they taste like toffee and sherry and licorice and spice and lust and goodness and heaven and forever, and this is the best first taste of anything I’ve ever had.

  6

  Aimee

  Only two things are holding me back from climbing on top of Chase McKay and dry humping him in the back of this cab—the seatbelt, and a vague memory of the job I was hired to start tomorrow. But that’s it. My inherent need to be respected as a woman in the business world? Screw it! My sense of common decency? Gone! Lost it somewhere along Hamilton Avenue when those hands touched my face and I felt that soft full mouth on my mouth, and the hint of stubble around it tickling my skin.

  He is the most sensual kisser I have ever had the pleasure of kissing, and I have never run my hands through such long hair while kissing someone before. I love it so much that for a split second I wonder if this means I’m a lesbian, and then I let one hand drop to his crotch and feel the magnificent rock-hard bulge in his jeans. Nope. I definitely like cock.

  I definitely like Chase McKay.

  He definitely likes that my hand is on that magnificent rock-hard bulge in his jeans, but he pulls away from me gently while smiling. “Hey, beautiful,” he groans while adjusting himself, “we need to take it easy.”

  I cover my mouth in horror. There I go again, gulping it down when I should be savoring the first sip. “I’m so sorry!”

  “Don’t apologize. Believe me, I want to do this. Just not in the back of a cab on the way to Luna Park.”

  “Yes, no, totally,” I say, smoothing down my hair and my blouse and generally trying to reassemble myself back into the kind of lady who doesn’t molest hot guys in public. I can do that. Who’s got two thumbs, complete control over her libido, and isn’t going to put her hands on Chase McKay again until he begs her to?

  This horny monkey.

  I briefly make eye contact with the cab driver in the rearview mirror, b
ut he seems pretty indifferent and I honestly don’t think he’d care what we do back here as long we don’t leave some sticky mess. Not that we’d ever—ever do that.

  Probably.

  I mean.

  Maybe on the way back from Luna Park …

  Chase laces his fingers with mine again, this time I can feel the tension in his arm as he tries to keep my hand where it is. Like I’m incapable of stopping myself from giving him a hand job or something. Lord, what he must think of me.

  I am reminded of what Roxy said about making sure he remembers that he was the one who made the first move tonight. Taking a very deep breath, I try to calm myself down. Only, I take such a deep breath that the top-fastened button of my ridiculously tight blouse actually flies off and hits the back of the driver’s seat. Even my clothes are losing their shit around this man. I just stare down at the stupid little button on the dirty cab floor, hoping that maybe Chase didn’t notice. He slowly reaches across my lap, down between my legs, to the floor, and then holds up the button between his thumb and index finger.

  I try so hard not to laugh, but when I look over at Chase and see how amused he is, I just let loose. I take the button from him and toss it back onto the floor, because what’s the point? This blouse, along with my dignity, will not survive the rest of the night. We both crack up. I’ve never heard him laugh like that before. His eyes are twinkling and there’s pure joy dancing across his usually still face and torso.

  Once the laughter has subsided, I say to him, “I really thought you hated me.”

  “I wish I could have.” He squeezes my hand as he looks out the window. “I’ve never struggled with anything as much as this. Even quitting smoking cold turkey has been easier.”

  I let go of his hand and turn his face towards me. “I always wanted you, Chase,” I whisper. “Always, always. I’m sorry. I know he’s your best friend and your partner and I liked him, I really did, but it was always you that I wanted. If I could go back to that night and do it all over again …”

  He puts his hands over mine. “That’s what we’re doing now. It’s not your fault at all. No more talking about Keaton tonight, okay?”

  “Okay.” I rest my forehead against his before pulling away. “It just kills me to know that you were suffering. I had no idea.”

  “No more talking about before tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  We remain silent, holding hands and looking out the window toward the water for the rest of the way. The sun is setting against cotton candy-colored clouds. I almost wish that there was more traffic, or that we were further from our destination, because this, even just this, feels good. But I am also quite certain that being there, or anywhere, with Chase will be great.

  I haven’t looked at the time since I checked my phone at the bar, because I don’t want to be aware of time passing or the fact that at some point it won’t be tonight anymore, and I’ll have to deal with the Mother of all Mondays. But if everything that happens tonight matters so much, surely that means that what comes to light tomorrow won’t matter too much? Right?

  I can’t believe I’m at an amusement park with Chase McKay. I feel like I’m in a Nicholas Sparks movie that’s directed by Martin Scorcese, because this feels so timeless and romantic but also like I could get mugged or barfed on by a passing stranger at any moment. But if his goal was to help me feel young and reckless, then mission accomplished.

  This noisy place is just bustling with youth and eager young love and sex. It’s PDA Central. The air is so thick with teenage pheromones, I’m giddy. In the past twenty feet, from the entrance to where we’re standing now, we’ve passed three young couples making out.

  Chase and I are holding hands, and right now we’re probably the most reserved people here. But then Chase stops and pulls me to him, his hand to the back of my neck, and he lays another one of those sensual kisses on me. I nearly lose my balance, but he’s got me. He’s got such a hold on me that everything around us is just bright spinning lights. I don’t know if it’s the neon lights of Luna Park or the sparks flying from my brain. I hear some guys hoot and holler. They could be hooting and hollering at us, or any number of other young kissing couples, but we are definitely one of the young kissing couples now.

  I am still clinging to his leather jacket when Chase slowly pulls his lips from mine and says: “Come on. Let’s do the Cyclone first. You like rollercoasters?”

  “Of course! You want to start with the main attraction, huh?”

  He kisses me again, quick and hard. “Tonight I do.” He leads me in the direction of The Cyclone, running. I laugh while trying to keep up with him. He could have said, “Come on, let’s go get our legs sawed off!” and I would still follow.

  The old wooden rollercoaster is a historic Coney Island landmark. I stop to take a picture of it with my phone, text it to Roxy so she knows where I am, although I’m sure the guy from the bar is balls-deep inside of her by now. I thank Chase for paying for the ride, and we snake around to the end of the surprisingly short line. I shudder when I hear the clack clack clack of the rising cars and the loud rattling of the rails when they head down. Chase watches me and squeezes my hand.

  “You nervous?”

  “Not really, but I’ve never been on a wooden rollercoaster before. It looks like I might need to make a chiropractor appointment after, but I’d imagine it’s like two minutes of awesome rough sex.” I manage to refrain from covering my mouth after mentioning sex, because it’s just so obvious that it’s taking over my mind.

  “If you need a chiropractor after rough sex, then you haven’t been doing it with the right guys.” He declares this as he looks up at the structure, a throwaway line.

  Meanwhile, I’m swallowing my tongue.

  He’s definitely right about that, but I’m not going to say anything. I have not been doing it with the right guys. In Ann Arbor, it was college boys and men who were great at navigating the stock market and speaking foreign languages but who could not find my clitoris or G-spot or recognize a fake orgasm.

  I’m shuddering again, for different reasons.

  The anticipation is killing me.

  When it’s our turn to board, we’re ushered to the front seat and Chase seems pleased with this arrangement. He winks at me as the safety bar is lowered. I grip the bar in front of me, but Chase says, “It’s better if you don’t hold onto the bar. Your muscles can get all wrenched up. You gotta let go and trust the ride.”

  And I do.

  The ascent, combined with the panoramic view of the park and the beach and the clack clack clack and the unnerving lurch forward, have my pulse racing, but it’s the adrenaline rush of the steep fall and the ensuing stomach drop that I will always associate with this night and Chase McKay. I let out a high-pitched scream and for the first time ever, my hands are up in the air as I surrender to the g-force and the universe and the engineers who designed this thing.

  I can handle anything!

  Hot sex with a hot guy that I barely know!

  Delicate personal and business situations!

  More hot sex with a hot guy that I barely know!

  By the time we’re done being jostled and jolted, I am so damned excited and aroused that when I get off that roller coaster, I don’t even bother trying to get my bearings on solid ground. I throw my arms around Chase’s neck and kiss him with wild abandon, until the attendant clears his throat and asks us to move along.

  My date for the evening is quietly laughing and shaking his head as we exit through the turnstile gate, but as soon as we’re through, he grabs my hand and we’re running down the dimly-lit road towards the boardwalk. I am drunk on so much more than three beers and a shot of Irish whiskey. I’m drunk on Chase McKay and not even remotely worried about the hangover that’s coming tomorrow.

  7

  Chase

  I’m a big fan of bringing a woman to the brink, but I also know when a woman needs to come, and Aimee Gilpin is on the verge of mounting me in front of a
crowd of tourists if I don’t do something to satisfy her immediately.

  The boardwalk is well-lit and there’s a fair amount of people strolling around—not as many as in the summer. But the beach is nearly deserted, and I know a dark corner where we (probably) won’t get knifed by a junkie. I pull her around the corner of a small public building at the edge of the beach, to a covered area with some privacy from most angles. The building is locked at night, and let’s just say that I got lucky here once when I was skinny teenager who was more reckless than I am now. Now that I’ve been to law school, I’m scrolling through potential misdemeanors in my brain, before all the blood up there heads south.

  Aimee is breathless when we reach our destination and I push her up against the brick wall.

  “You ready to come for me, Aimee?”

  She answers with loud gasps and moans into my mouth, wet frantic kisses, her hands grabbing at my hair like she’s drowning. I hike her up and her legs wrap effortlessly around my waist. Hard as steel and pressing against her, I let out a growl as I grind upwards, tugging at that long hair and letting her suck on my tongue.

  I don’t know if this is what she’s like with all men or if she just hasn’t gotten any in a while, and I don’t care. She’s hot and it’s going to hurt like a mother to keep myself from coming in my jeans like a twelve-year-old. I’ve basically been a walking six-foot-two erection.

  “I’m not usually like this I swear,” she whispers into my ear before biting and sucking on my earlobe.

  “I am not judging you right now, believe me.”

  “No but I need you to know that.”

  “Shhh. You have to stay quiet.”

  She nods, but she’s shaking all over and I know she isn’t cold. A little high-pitched animal sound comes out of her mouth and I nearly laugh.

  Maneuvering her so her feet are on the ground again, I undo the button and zipper of her jeans, pull them down a bit and cover her mouth with one hand while the other finds its way into her panties. I’m glad I’m covering her mouth, because she lets loose a little squeal that’s not quite as loud as the ones she made when we were on the Cyclone, but I have to fight to keep my groans low when I feel just how warm and wet she is for me. Her hips are rolling and crashing against me like the waves less than half a mile from us, her hands keep grasping at my jacket as I rub and flutter against her clit until finally she just rests her hands on top of her head. I fully expect the rest of the buttons to pop off of her blouse, because her tits are straining to break free, and feeling them against my chest is driving me insane. When my two fingers slide inside of her, she clenches around them immediately, her head falls back and then she’s kissing the palm of my hand while I muffle the sound of her passionate yeses and wails.