That Guy

by Belle Brooks

  No, it can’t be.

  “Is he treating you right?”

  “He treats me so good, and I can talk to him, Chris, about everything, and I can lie in the quiet with him and completely relax and switch off. It feels so right.”

  “Well, you better get your throwdown on before you go making any big decisions, you two-bit hooker, because if he can’t get your rocks off, then it’s going to be one sad-as-fuck life for you—even sadder than it was before you got here.” Chris pauses. “Have you at least seen what he’s packing in his pants?”

  “Yes.” I roll onto myside.

  “Well?” Chris flops onto his stomach and perches his head on the backs of his hands. “Spill, spill.”

  “I’m not telling you.”

  “Oh, but you will.”

  There’s a moment of quietness.

  “So, his sister seems like a royal pain in the arsehole.” Chris never holds back what he thinks.

  “I don’t think she’s fond of me so far.”

  “Mindy, I don’t think that snobby cow is fond of anything. Such a sourpuss. She looks like she’s been sucking on lemons.”

  “She’s really pretty.”

  “Oh, she is stunning, but her mouth? A lemon sucker.”

  “Stop it.” I giggle. “Did you two have to travel far together?”

  “Yeah, from Brisbane to here.”

  “Shit.”

  “It’s okay. I talked at her for entertainment—my entertainment.”

  “Chris!” I spit out, trying not to laugh.

  “What? She needs to lighten up and relax. It wouldn’t kill her to frickin’ smile.”

  “She’s young, and Arlie said she’s a really fun-loving girl.”

  “Fun? Like in a stomped-out-fire-no-longer-burning way? Because if so, Arlie’s right.”

  “Chris!” I tap his head.

  “Stop hitting me.”

  “Stop being a turd.”

  “Speaking of turds, I hereby declare I’m no longer cleaning them out of Fletcher’s kitty litter tray, so you’ll need to train him to use the toilet if I ever have to cat-sit again.”

  “Why?”

  “They stink, and they’re as long as his tail. He could probably go on a diet.”

  “Is there anything you can’t find to bitch about?”

  “I’m gay and picky, so no. Everything is drama, drama, drama in my world.”

  “God, I’ve missed you.”

  “Girl, life is nothing when you’re not around. Eleven more days and I get you back, even if it’s likely we’ll have a tall, handsome, donkey-dicked tagalong.”

  I laugh, and so does Chris.

  ***

  The sun is shining. The birds are singing. The air is fresh and clean, and the spread in front of us is mouthwatering. I think Arlie and I created an amazing lunch for our company, which was the task for today. Chris and Hazel only get to stay with us until late afternoon, so I’m not wasting a minute.

  Arlie sits beside me at the picnic table on the beach. Chris and Hazel are across from us, and things seem calmer now that we’ve had a little time with our loved ones alone. Plus, Chris is so overjoyed by the house he has declared that when he finally publishes his brilliant novel he’ll be buying this island and residing here.

  “Tell me a little bit about yourself, Hazel. Arlie says you have a daughter.”

  “I do.” She places her fork onto her plate. “She’s four, and absolutely loves her Unky Larlie.”

  “Larlie?” I smile.

  “Yeah, she hasn’t quite gotten his name down pat yet.”

  “Very cute.”

  “She is, but she’s sad at the moment.” Hazel drops her bottom lip. “She needs her Unky Larlie to come home. She’s used to not seeing him, but this time it’s really bothering her.”

  “She’ll survive.” Arlie tears into a bread roll and narrows his eyes at Hazel.

  “She likes gingerbread men, too, I hear.”

  Hazel leans back slightly. You can see the love she has for her daughter in the way her eyes light up as she speaks of her. I think she appreciates the fact Arlie has spoken of them while he’s been away, even if it seems she’s trying to make him feel bad for his absence.

  “So much. She makes us bake them all the time,” Hazel says.

  “I don’t blame her. They’re delicious.”

  “You look like someone who indulges in sweets often, Mindy,” Hazel says.

  Ouch.

  Chris coughs as if he’s choking. He takes the glass of wine in front of him and gulps it down.

  “Are you okay, Chris?” I go to stand.

  He waves in my direction. “Fine.” He clears his throat.

  I sit back down. “Yes, I do enjoy a little dessert. But I’ve not had so much over here.”

  “I’d say you enjoy a little more than you let on. You’re not normally the type of girl my brother goes for. Not so fit, athletic, and tiny-waisted.”

  “Oh, bitch, please.” Chris stands from his chair with a look of disgust filling his expression. “You better watch your damn mouth. Just because you look like you’ve not eaten in a year doesn’t mean the rest of the world needs to. Are you hangry? It seems like you’re hangry and in need of some sweets. Here. Let me shove some food down your throat so your brain can function more rationally.” Chris leans across the table and takes her plate loading it with potato salad before dropping it back in front of her.

  “Chris, stop.”

  “No. What gives her the right? She’s acting all like you’re fat and unhealthy, and it’s bullshit. She needs to eat up.”

  “Chris, I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it. Down, boy, down.”

  “Oh, she meant it. Fucking magazines and women thinking skin and bones are attractive. I might be a homo, but I’ll have you know it’s fucking gross. Hazel, it wouldn’t hurt you to eat some cake. You’re rake skinny, and God knows you need some. Like, where are ya tits? And your hips? Do you even have an arsehole to shit out of? Because girlfriend, you ain't got no arse. Your butt is flat as a tack.”

  “Chris!” I snap.

  Arlie stands. “Hazel come with me, now.” His tone is harsh yet controlled.

  Before I even blink, Arlie and Hazel are walking towards the house.

  I huff, then puff. “Really? Did you have to tear into her like you did? She’s young, and if she thinks I’m a little on the bigger side, then so be it. I don’t care what she thinks, Chris. I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore. What’s the point? Life’s way too short.”

  “Sorry.” Chris’s head hangs low.

  There’s a long, strained silence between us. Chris lifts his chin and smiles in my direction. “I’m really proud of you.”

  “Huh? Why?”

  “Because the Mindy I knew ten days ago would have been so butt-hurt after a comment such as Hazel’s. She would have burst into tears and ran. You? You’ve changed, and I’m proud.”

  I wouldn’t have run away all butt-hurt. Would I?

  When Arlie and Hazel return, Arlie says in a low but confident tone, “Well?” The stern look keeping his lips pulled in a straight line is one I’ve not seen before.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say what I did, Melinda. It was not nice and of poor taste. I hope you accept my apology.”

  “It’s fine, honestly. I know I’m not a size four. I’m a size ten, and I’m okay with being who I am. Curves can be a curse, right?”

  Hazel smiles uncomfortably.

  Arlie sits beside me. He leans in and leaves a soft kiss against my cheek before picking up his fork. “Eat up. There’s plenty more where this comes from.” Arlie shifts his eyes to Chris. “You ever speak to my sister like you did again, and you and I’ll have words, you hear?”

  “Yes.” Chris looks at Arlie in a way that tells me he’s so turned on, he’s about to crawl across the table and mount Arlie where he sits.

  I laugh, because I’m as equally frickin’ turned on right now.

  Arlie Bli
ght is full of surprises, and I’m even more excited to learn about all the sides of Arlie I’m yet to meet.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “It was really good to meet you.” Hazel wraps her arms around my shoulders and hugs me gently. I return the sentiment.

  She turns to Arlie. “We’ll see you when you get home.”

  “Give Aggy a kiss for me.” Arlie pulls Hazel against his chest and kisses her in the middle of her forehead.

  “Take care of yourself, big brother.”

  “Always.” His lips curl up in a smile.

  “Well, we better go. They’re waiting for us to hop on the boat.” There’s a strain to Hazel’s tone. It matches the quivering lip she now sports. Hazel really cares very deeply for Arlie, as I can see he does for her. It’s sweet.

  I try so hard not to cry when Chris bundles me up in his arms and holds me tightly. “You enjoy your last days here, and I’ll be waiting for you at the airport when you get back, okay?”

  “Okay.” Tears leak from my eyes.

  “You’re in good hands. I really like Mr Hon with the Buns.”

  I hear Arlie’s subtle laugh.

  “I know,” I whisper.

  “Relax and keep enjoying your time here. This place is a great fit for you.”

  “I know.” I wipe my nose against Chris’s shirt.

  He sighs. “Really, Snot-a-lot-agus? You wiped your nose on my shirt.”

  “I’m sad.” My voice quivers.

  “Oh, sugar tits, you’ll forget about me soon enough. Go get your freak on and fall even more in love. You deserve it.”

  “Sugar tits,” Arlie mumbles.

  “I love you, bestie.” I hug Chris tighter.

  “I love you more.” He kisses my cheek.

  As the boat sails away, I’m left waving as if I’m flagging down a truck on a highway. Instantly, I feel Arlie’s hands clamp my shoulders. “Not long now and we’ll be home.”

  I’m not sure if I’m sad because I miss home, life, normalcy, or if it’s because I’ll miss Chris.

  “What do you want to do now? It’s almost sunset, so we can go for a quick dip or a walk. Your choice.” Arlie slides his hands from my shoulders to my waist.

  I turn into him. “I have something in mind.”

  “You do?”

  “Uh-huh.” I trail my hand down his T-shirt, then tug the material up from the bottom before dragging it over his muscles and slipping it from his head.

  “What do you have in mind?” He eyes me curiously when I skirt my fingers over his abdominal muscles, only stopping when I reach the top of the waistband of his pants. Arlie’s breath hitches in his throat. “I’m not sure if I know what you want.”

  Wiggling my fingers below the material has Arlie’s eyes growing wider, and a cheeky-as-fuck smirk tugging at his lips.

  “You’re beautiful,” he mouths, right before I fold my fingers around his very strained erection, causing his lips to slightly part. “Does this mean I’m going to meet Miss Priscilla and possibly eat some KFC for dinner?”

  I try not to snicker, but I fail. “Uh-huh.”

  Arlie runs his hand into the back of my hair as I move mine in an up-and-down motion, gripping him firmly. His pupils grow. His eyes become animalistic when he tugs my hair gently and lays his lips softly upon mine.

  I’m sober, I’m scared, but I’m also excited.

  We don’t get the entire distance from the beach to the bedroom. We only make it through the front door when Arlie pins my body against the wall. His hips move back and forward to the rhythm of his tongue swirling in my mouth. Arlie’s hungry, and he’s showing me how much with each movement he makes.

  He groans when he rips my dress over my head. He curses when he slips his hand inside my panties, pressing his finger against my throbbing bud.

  “Bedroom,” I moan into his neck.

  Arlie doesn’t reply. His eyes seek mine as his finger slides over my clit and stills at my opening.

  “Oh, fuck,” I call out when he lunges deep inside me.

  “Are you okay?” His lips hover over mine.

  “Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh.” I press my mouth to his.

  “I want to watch you,” he says, tipping his head back and moving another of his fingers deep inside me.

  “Arlie.” I hold my breath and ride waves of an impending climax rolling through my stomach.

  Arlie’s lips curl, and his eyes widen farther the more my release builds. I fight it. I’m mentally trapped in a moment of pure heaven and pure hell.

  “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He kisses my lips, and it’s like Arlie senses my body’s resistance. He quickens the pace, and I close my eyes and throw my head back, moaning so loudly I can’t seem to stop.

  Arlie’s free hand tangles in my hair. He gently moves my head forward.

  “Oh, God. Oh God, uh, uh.” And with an explosion building uncontrollably, I throw my hand down between my legs and cup it on top of his. I instantly shudder. “Holy shit, holy shit,” I pant, trying to calm my breathing and my shaking legs.

  “I’ve got you, babe,” he whispers right before his lips press to mine.

  I’m breathless. I’m trembling, and my brain has left this atmosphere. Holy bananarama. So this is what sex feels like when not intoxicated.

  Arlie places two fingers against his lips. His eyes darken in a devilish manner as he slides his fingers into his mouth, curling his lips around them. When he drops his arm by his side, he whispers, “KFC box. I get it now. Finger-licking fucking good.”

  I bite down on my lip, terribly flushed, slightly uncomfortable, but completely turned on.

  I squeal when Arlie scoops one arm around my legs and throws me over his shoulder. He practically runs up the staircase. The mattress catches my body when he rests me down.

  Arlie strips away his pants faster than I can blink. He’s erect and pre-cum drips from the tip of his cock. “Babe,” he says, climbing between my legs and placing his fingers into the lacy panties I’m so glad Chris threw into my luggage. Arlie pulls them down. “This is going to be quick. It’s been two years … I’m pretty sure I’m going to be a two-pump chump, but I promise, in another ten minutes, I’ll start again and keep going until you’re completely satisfied.”

  Arlie and his honesty—it never ceases to amaze me.

  “Protection,” I say, as he slides his hand up my back and unclasps my bra, tugging it away.

  “I’ve got some, don’t worry.” He’s moving so fast I can barely catch my breath.

  The sound of a drawer opening, then closing has my heart rate increasing and my breathing rapid. Arlie stalks down the bed until his hands splay across the mattress on either side of my head. “Are you ready?”

  I nod.

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod again.

  Arlie’s weight shifts when he removes one of his hands and traces a line between my breasts and down my stomach. He reaches between my legs, readying himself at my entrance.

  I jolt when he presses his hips forward slightly. His hand returns, and his eyes find mine.

  “Take a deep breath.” His voice deepens to a semi-growl.

  I do. Arlie kisses across my jawline, down my neck, and continues to do so until he’s kissed every part of my breast around my nipple.

  When he flicks his tongue, I moan before he sucks my nipple between his lips and presses his hips forward a little more. I hiss air between my teeth, widening my legs farther.

  Arlie jerks his head back. His eyes connect with mine.

  I bite down on my lip as he slips his hand behind my neck. The expression in his eyes is one of torture. He’s not in pain physically, but I can tell he’s trying to refrain from thrusting hard into me even though it appears he wants to.

  “I … I’m okay.”

  Arlie slowly lifts my head from the bed. He stills, then throws back his head at the same time as he pushes his entire length so deeply inside me I curl my head into his neck and pant excessively.

&n
bsp; “Fuck,” he roars as he rolls his hips and keeps my head supported. His speed builds much quicker than I thought it would. His movements are faster and harder with every second that passes, and the more he moves the more my insides quiver. Arlie’s groan vibrates in his throat, and I’m struggling to breathe.

  “You’re okay, babe.” Arlie’s voice is distant but with me. “God, you’re beautiful,” he growls as I ride the differing sensations ploughing through me, and he suddenly jolts and roars at the same time.

  He stills, then rests his forehead against mine. “Worth the wait.” His eyes soften, matching his smile and tone.

  “Worth the wait.” I half laugh, completely and utterly exhausted.

  I lie in his arms. He runs his fingers up and down my stomach below the sheets.

  “Give me five more minutes, and I’m ready to show you what I can do.”

  Five more minutes? I’m going to need at least another twenty so I can find my equilibrium and bring it back to Earth.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Sexcapades: Incredible, mind-blowing, earth-shattering. I can’t get enough, and I seriously want to jump Arlie’s bones every single time my eyes fall to his. Who knew orgasms were so addictive?

  For the past four days, Arlie and I have screwed every single moment we could. It’s been a sex-a-thon, and last night was no exception. That’s probably why I’m beyond exhausted this morning. Day fourteen, and I’m not ready to leave Heart Key in a week. I’ve learnt so much about myself here, and I’m not sure why it’s taken me this long to be comfortable in the presence of a man, but maybe I’ve needed one guy who is more special than all the rest. Arlie Blight is that guy for me.

  “Good morning. I have something for you.” Arlie swaggers in my direction in only his hot pink boxer briefs while holding a silver tray.

  “What’s this? Breakfast in bed again? You spoil me.” I scrunch up my nose when I come to sit on my bottom.

  “A bit sore?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You’re not. I’ve told you, you need a little downtime, but you’re refusing to hear me.”

  “I’m fine.” I am fine even though my pink lady taco feels as though she’s been stomped on multiple times.