Natural Attraction

by C L Green

  Taking a seat, I manage to angle my chair in such a way that my back is slightly turned to Chris. I do this because I know that even though I am two sheets to the wind and feeling bold, there is still no way I will be bold enough to converse with the likes of Chris Walker.

  I take another long pull on my beer and decide to focus my attention back onto Bree and the reason I am here.

  “So who am I here to meet?” I ask cheerfully, waiting to catch her out at her game and be introduced to Evie. I watch her eyes sparkle mischievously. She throws a glance to Evie who I now notice is looking just as cheeky. She is grinning madly at me as well. Waiting patiently for them to let me in on their private joke, I take another pull on my beer.

  “Your V-Man Tay!” Bree announces excitedly, bouncing in Steve’s lap as her and Evie start to cackle hysterically at one another.

  Confused, and not knowing what a V-Man is, I raise my eyebrows and ask innocently, “What’s my V-Man?”

  “Not what’s your V-Man Tay, who's your V-Man.” She continues with her ridiculous drunken cackling. I see that Steve and Rob are now both chuckling too, clearly I am missing something.

  “What is my V-Man then?” I have no idea what the hell she is talking about.

  I watch as she gains control of her cackling and pins her drunken gaze on me.

  “The guy that Evie and I have organized to take your V-Card!”

  Oh my god.

  Did she just say she has organized someone to take my virginity?

  What the fuck?

  I may be drunk, but not that drunk. I am also not too drunk that I am not now totally embarrassed. Embarrassed that not only has my virginity status been a topic of conversation, it has been a topic of conversation in front of two strange men and Chris Walker. Possibly even the entire Walker camp.

  Shoot me now.

  Better still, where can I find a gun because I am going to shoot Bree. And Evie. Who does this? Who has conversations about their little sisters’ virginity status with a group of strange men? Who then organizes for someone to help her lose it?

  No wonder everyone was staring at me when I arrived. The evening’s conversation on the reclusive Taylor Jackson, twenty-two year old virgin must have been enthralling.

  Shrinking into my seat I feel horror wash over me. This has to be the cruelest joke ever.

  “You organized what?” I whisper, focusing my gaze on her eyes and putting my best effort into a death stare.

  “Evie and I organized your first root honey! You’re gunna love him. At first we bounced the idea of hiring you a male hooker for the night. We both figured you were actually drunk enough to give one a go. But then, lucky for you, we didn’t need a hooker. Someone offered up their services for free! It’s not often you get this drunk and we thought we needed to take advantage of this rare opportunity. ”

  I quickly jerk my head up to Evie and back to Bree. In a slightly hysterical voice, I screech, “You were going to hire me a hooker?”

  “Well yes, but we don’t need to now because we found you the perfect guy!”

  I stare at her dumbfounded. I can’t believe she is serious.

  “And who might that be?” I ask acidly as I take the final swig of my beer and start looking around for somewhere to toss the empty. This has to be a joke. I look at Evie’s face and then back to Bree’s. I am waiting for one of them to do the big reveal.

  Visions of a seventy year old wrinkly pop into my mind and I physically cringe. I wonder where they’ve hidden him.

  “Our buddy Chris!” Bree chirps excitedly pointing over my shoulder.

  I freeze and stare at her. My eyes stop blinking as my mind blanks out.

  “What did you say?” I whisper.

  “Chris, Chris Walker, the guy sitting next to you.”

  I continue to stare at her as my frozen, beer addled mind registers what she has just said.

  Chris Walker has offered to take my V-card?

  I watch as Bree starts performing a mini-clap with her hands. “He’s perfect!” She chirps again. “Oh how I wish someone as good-looking as him had been my first. Unfortunately I got pimply Jim in the back of his mum’s Datsun for my eighteenth birthday. This is so going to be so awesome for you!”

  I watch as Evie nods her agreement. Rob and Steve both leer at me with big grins too. I then realize that up to this point, Chris has not said a single word.

  I become acutely aware that I haven’t even looked at his face since Bree’s announcement. A glimmer of hope shoots through me that this is all a joke. I harden my resolve to turn and face him. I feel my face start to heat as the blood rushes to my cheeks. Blushing, I slowly start blinking again and can feel myself breathing slow small breaths.

  I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise. The air behind me is crackling. I slowly start to lean back in my chair so I can make the slow and painful turn to look him in the eye.

  “Hey babe,” I hear him announce confidently as my eyes finally come to rest on his.

  I feel my breath hitch.

  God he’s beautiful.

  Deep, dark, crystal blue eyes penetrate mine and I start to feel like I am drowning. It is then that I realize the reason I have never tried to make eye contact with Chris Walker.

  It’s dangerous.

  It’s like staring at the sun and if you do it too long, you’ll be blind.

  My mind unfreezes for half a second to allow a fleeting thought to shoot through my brain.

  You need to look away.

  But I can’t.

  Clearly I am drunk.

  I watch as a small muscle twitches on the side of his strong, square jaw. I then see the side of his mouth slowly curl into a small grin. A grin just big enough that one tiny little dimple pops on the side of his face. It’s a cheeky grin. The grin that you see beautiful little boys give their mums when they’ve done something naughty. The grin that makes you forgive them for anything.

  “Shit, you’re even better up close,” he mumbles quietly as I watch the muscle twitching in his jaw again.

  My mind finally unfreezes again and my mouth takes over.

  “Tell me she’s joking. Tell me this is a joke. Tell me you did not offer to be my V-Man. Tell me…”

  “Not a joke babe,” his low rumbling voice stops me midsentence.

  This is not a joke? He looks serious?

  “Um…”

  What the hell do I say to that?

  “Lookin’ forward to it,” he drawls as one of his eyebrows lifts slightly.

  “Um… Looking forward to it?” I repeat slowly as I digest what he is saying.

  He’s looking forward to it?

  What the hell?

  “Um… Do you provide this service often?”

  Where the hell did that come from? Why did I even ask him that? Who cares? This whole conversation is ridiculous. It’s embarrassing and it’s ridiculous.

  “Nope. Never taken a V-Card. Never wanted to,” he rumbles again.

  I think I detect a slight slur in his voice.

  “You’re drunk.”

  “So are you,” he returns quickly.

  “I’m probably not as drunk as you,” I fire back.

  “I’m not too drunk to help you out,” he returns.

  “Help me out?” I question him, a hint of anger lacing my tone.

  “Help you out,” he repeats.

  “What makes you think you are helping me out?” I ask incredulously.

  “Babe, I’ve only met a few twenty-something year old virgins in my life. All of ‘em were still virgins for a reason. They were fat, they were ugly or they were stupid. Some of them were even a combination of all three. From what I’ve seen of you around the rides, you do not fit into any of those categories. In fact, I reckon you’d have to be the prettiest young woman here today and at most rides. That thick auburn hair of yours with those massive purple blue eyes is an extraordinary combination. Your tits and that ass of yours is enough to bring any man to his knees. For you to still be
a virgin defies logic. It almost defies nature. As near as I can figure, the only reason you’re still a virgin is that you’re so damned good-looking most men think you’re out of their range. I don’t think you’re out of my range. That’s why I’m gunna help you out.”

  He thinks I’m pretty?

  Holy shit.

  Damn.

  “You’re probably full of STD’s.” I blurt as if I am considering letting him ‘help me out’. Again I wonder where the hell I pulled that one from. Why am I even having this conversation?

  It’s ridiculous.

  I watch as his lip curls and the muscle in his jaw twitches again. He stares direct into my eyes. “Nope. Never ridden bare a day in my life. And I don’t plan on starting any time soon.”

  “Oh.” I suddenly become aware that my mouth is dry. Very dry. I need another beer.

  “I think I need another drink,” I announce not taking my eyes off his.

  Without taking his eyes from mine, he leans down slightly to his left and I watch as he flicks the lid off a small esky sitting at his feet. Grabbing a white can, he quickly flicks the lid back on the esky, opens the can and hands it to me. “Don’t drink beer. Only drink bourbon.”

  Still not taking my eyes from his I mumble, “Okay,” and take the can from his hand.

  Putting it to my lips, I drag my eyes from his, lean back, tip it up and start sculling. I do this because I am thirsty. I also do this because right now I don’t know what to say. Not knowing what else to say, I think the best thing to do would be to get drunk…er.

  I finish the can in five massive gulps. It goes straight to my head. I feel much better. Much more relaxed. I screw the can up and throw it on the ground between my feet. I look back to Chris to see he’s is smiling. A big smile. An impressed smile.

  I watch him lean down to the esky again. He repeats his lid flicking and can opening procedure to hand me a second can.

  “Go easy woman. Sip.” He orders.

  I nod.

  He smiles again.

  Bree starts clapping. So does Evie.

  “See Tay. I told you he was perfect!”

  “You could be right,” I mutter to myself as I look back at her.

  Having finally managed to drag my eyes from Chris’s, I become aware of my surroundings again. I realize the rest of the Walker camp has gone back to their talking, singing and dancing. No one is paying me any attention any more.

  Except for Chris.

  Evie finishes clapping, jumps up, grabs Rob by the hand and they head off into the dark somewhere. Bree finishes clapping and quickly decides to pay Steve some serious attention with her mouth. This leaves me in the awkward position of only having Chris to talk to.

  Which is not all bad.

  It is not all bad, because seriously, he is easy on the eye. I swear it’s almost illegal to be that good-looking.

  I swing my eyes back towards Chris and take inventory. He’s wearing a light gray hoody over the top of some seriously well-fitting blue jeans. The hoody fits him well. Real well. It stretches wide across his broad shoulders but angles down in a tight v towards his slim waist. This guy is tall and lean. Not ‘built’ like some you see, but ride fit with long lean muscles.

  I consider the ridiculous conversation so far as I take another sip on my can.

  This isn’t exactly the worst idea Bree has had yet. It’s something that needs doing. I suppose it’s like riding a horse for the first time. It’s not likely it’s gunna be that great, but you have to start somewhere. I assume having sex takes practice, just like riding. Unless you make those first efforts to give it a go, you are never going to learn how to do it well.

  I watch as Chris leans back casually in his seat. Stretching his long legs out in front of him, he crosses them at the ankles. Taking another mouthful of his own drink, he settles his eyes back to mine. He looks relaxed and calm.

  “I can see you want this,” Chris rumbles quietly to me.

  Do I?

  I think I do. How could I not? It’s not like under normal circumstances I would ever get a shot at such a gorgeous guy and why can’t I just be normal for once? Normal enough to join the ranks of the many women who have tasted a single night with Chris Walker. Surely there’s a reason they’re all falling over themselves to get to him?

  “I think I do,” I whisper softly.

  I watch as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth slowly. Letting it go again, it pops slightly as it frees.

  I find myself licking my own lips.

  He smiles at me again as he uncrosses his feet and leans forward. His face is barely inches from mine. I can feel his breath on my face and I can see the huge black pits of his pupils. He seems to be searching my face for something. He’s looking at me intensely.

  “You’re shy,” he mumbles softly. “Go figure…”

  Not able to speak with him in such close proximity to my face I decide to nod.

  He smiles again.

  “Gorgeous, shy, twenty-two and a virgin. Definitely defies all logic,” he rumbles softly again.

  I feel my mouth drying again, so lick my lips as I start to bring my can to my mouth again. My hand is halfway to my mouth when Chris’s hand snakes out to grab my wrist. Gently stopping my movement, his other hand comes across to gently pry the can from mine.

  “I think you’ve had enough,” he tells me. “You’re gunna want to remember this.”

  Still unable to form words, I nod again.

  Placing my can on the ground between his feet, he slowly slides his first hand over the back of mine and gently wraps my smaller hand in his.

  “C’mon, time for me to help you out.”

  I nod again.

  With a light tug he pulls me towards him as he stands quickly. Landing softly against his body, I feel my heart stop as my senses flood with the smell and feel of Chris. The scent of his cologne, the scent of fresh laundered clothes, the individual scent of his body mixing with both.

  Delicious.

  I’m sure I have never smelt anything that smells so good.

  Wrapping his arm around my waist, I feel him start to guide me away from the camp. I look back over my shoulder to see Bree staring, giving me the thumbs up.

  I turn back to look where we are headed and see Chris’s double extended horse float looming in front of his. As he places his hand on the handle to the access door he tips his chin towards me.

  “Anything you don’t want to do, you just say so, right? You don’t have to do this and I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. I can see you want it though so I’m gunna give it to you if you want it.”

  I nod again.

  “Not gunna burn my ears out with conversation are you?” He mutters as he opens the door and gently guides me inside. Giving me a gentle shove, he pushes me towards the back of his float where a double camp bed is set up.

  I stand staring at the bed in disbelief. Disbelief that this is going to happen. Disbelief that I am finally going to let it happen. Disbelief that I want it to.

  Disbelief that it’s going to be Chris Walker.

  I hear the click of the lock on the door of the float and turn back to see Chris stripping his hoody and shirt off. The sight of his flat stomach rippling as he flings his clothes over a divider pushed to the side of his float knocks the breath from my chest. Even in the dim light shining from the small interior light lighting the inside of his float, I can see every muscle is firm.

  Holy shit.

  I watch as he stalks towards me, his eyes black with want. Softly taking me by the hand again, he leads me to his bed and I follow.

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  About the author

  C L Green grew up, and still lives near Ballarat, Victoria, Australia.

  She currently lives on a small farm on the outskirts of Ballarat with her partner Damian, her son Lachlan, her Arabian horses and her Golden Retriever dogs.

  When not writing, reading her Kindle, riding horses or spending time with her dogs, you are likely to fin
d her camping on the side of the mighty Murray River.

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