by J. Daniels
She says something behind my back as I exit the kitchen, but I don’t hear it. It probably doesn’t make sense anyway. Whatever the hell her and Mia were trying to achieve with this clusterfuck of an evening, I’ll never understand.
I’m ready to punch a cop. Beth’s hiding somewhere in the house.
I fucking hate game night.
Heading upstairs after checking the first floor, I notice the light shining underneath the bathroom door at the end of the hallway. I knock on it gently.
“Beth?”
She sniffles, then clears her throat. “Hold on. I’ll be out in a second.”
Fuck. She’s crying. I made her cry—again.
I take a step back and stare at the door, counting to five before my hand forms to the knob. Another five before I’m testing to see if it’s locked. It isn’t.
“Hey.” I step into the bathroom and push the door shut behind me. Her head snaps up from her hands. “Beth, look I’m . . .”
The biggest dickhead on the planet.
Her eyes are glistening with tears, a few wetting her cheeks. She quickly stands from the stool she’s sitting on and wipes at her face. “I’m so sorry I’m here. I had no idea you were coming tonight.”
I move closer, shaking my head. “Stop. I didn’t come in here to get an apology from you. You don’t owe me one, okay? I’m the asshole. I’m the one who needs to make this better.”
She stares up into my eyes. “Make what better?”
“Us.”
“There’s an us?”
“I think there was an us. Up until you left my house the other day crying, I think we were . . . something. Am I completely off here?”
Her nose wrinkles as she sniffs. She blinks up at me, looking at my mouth, my nose, above my eyes.
I wipe my hand across her cheek, brushing away a tear. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t handle that shit downstairs. I’ve been jealous twice in my entire life and both times have been with you. It’s confusing. I don’t know how to deal with it. And the past couple days,” I force my hand down when I realize it’s traveled to her neck. “Fuck, Beth. The past couple days have been really fucking awful. Why didn’t you call me back? Did you get my message?”
After a brief hesitation, she nods. “No, I did. I got it.” She sniffs again. “I just didn’t know what to say. It was really embarrassing when you didn’t remember what happened between us. I feel like I took advantage of you.”
I smirk.
She fights a smile, then shoves against my chest.
“Stop. It was, Reed. What did you expect me to do? Call you back and go over every detail of what we did?”
“That would’ve been awesome.” I grab her waist and lift her so she’s sitting on the edge of the sink. She gasps against my neck.
“What are you doing?”
“Cleaning you up. You have black stuff on your face.” I cup her cheeks when she tries to look in the mirror behind her. She stares up at me, lips parting. “I got it. I made you cry. Let me do it.”
She relaxes against my hands. “Okay.”
Reaching behind her, I grab a few tissues out of the box on the sink. I wipe them along her skin. “And you wouldn’t have to tell me every detail. I am remembering some of it.”
“You are?”
Our eyes lock. Her breath suddenly blowing out faster against my hand.
Nodding, I move to her other cheek. “Yeah, but not a lot. It’s fucking torture, if I’m being honest. I’ll get little flashes of us together, and then, nothing. It’s gone. Then I’m miserable, waiting for the next image to pop into my head. I hate that I’ve been with you and I can’t just think about it whenever I want. These little glimpses of what we did are killing me. I don’t know how you felt around me, what you sounded like when I made you come with my cock.” I tilt my head. “I’m assuming I made you come with my cock. Please confirm that.”
Her cheek lifts against my hand. The slightest blush appears. “You did.”
I turn and toss the tissues into the trashcan. My hand rubs harshly across my forehead. “I’m just waiting for the image to pop into my head of me eating your pussy. I think I’m miserable now, but seeing that is going to really fuck me up. Because I know I did it. There’s no way in hell I didn’t have my mouth all over you. And then I’m going to go around breaking shit when I can’t remember what you tasted like.”
Fucking Jim Beam. I’m never drinking that shit again.
Several seconds go by. I look over at Beth when she doesn’t respond. Head tilted down, eyes on me, peeking through her lashes. Hands nervously fidgeting in her lap.
She wets her lips. My chest expands, and I move.
“I remember what one part of you tasted like,” I say, cupping her cheek to lift her head. My thumb runs just below her mouth, tugging at her chin to part her lips. “I’d never forget it. So sweet and wet, and greedy. You have the greediest mouth. The way you suck on my tongue when you’re coming from my fingers. Biting me. Trying to swallow me whole.” I inch closer, slowly moving in. “Those dirty little noises you make against my lips. And your words to me when you’re right there. More, faster, harder. God, I get so hard just from kissing you.” Her hands fist my T-shirt. I close my eyes. “Beth.”
“CJ asked me out.”
My eyes flash open. Hers may have never closed.
“What?” I ask, leaning away, blinking her into focus.
What the hell did she just say?
She shakes her head, and my hand falls away. “I . . . he asked me out tonight, and I said yes. We’re doing something next weekend.” Her voice is timid. Nervous. Unsure.
Why? She agreed to him. She made her decision already.
I take a step back, needing the space. My hands tuck into my front pockets.
Fuck. What am I supposed to do with this?
Beth slides off the sink, her hands smoothing over the bottom of her dress. She steps closer. “I just didn’t want to be up here kissing you when I told him . . .”
“No, I get it,” I interrupt, halting her words and her movements. I lift my shoulders. “You want to go out with him, go out with him. What the hell does it have to do with me?”
Her lips pull down. “I don’t know. Does it have anything to do with you?”
I stare at her.
Are we really playing this game?
“Beth, what do you want me to say? I just tried to kiss you, and you tell me you’re going out with another guy.”
Something soft hits the door. I turn my attention on it, then look back at Beth when nothing else happens. She’s avoiding my eyes now like I hate, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.
I open my mouth to ask her to look at me. “Are you feeling him?”
The wrong damn question comes out.
Jesus Christ. I don’t want to know this. Unless the next words out of her mouth are “No, Reed. I’m feeling you. Now can we please go back to having sex all over this bathroom?” But if she says yes . . .
“He’s nice,” she answers quietly.
Nice? Well . . . fuck. What does that mean?
I let out an exhaustive sigh. “Look, you know I’m miserable. You know I hate that I can’t remember what happened between us. I’ve told you all that. What else do you want?” The same noise from behind the door happens again. “What the hell?”
I look back at the door. Beth moves in my peripheral vision.
“Reed,” she whispers.
The door bursts open, allowing a very sleepy Nolan into the bathroom. He’s dancing around on his feet. Pinching his legs together, then crouching down a bit. I’m not a father, but I know that sign. We need to get out of here so he can do his business.
He takes one look at me and throws both hands into the air. “Uncle Weed!” His eyes widen in alarm, the smile vanishing from his face. Both hands fall to the front of his pajamas as his legs pinch together. “Uh oh.” He scrunches up his face, then whispers, “Uh oh. I didn’t make it.”
Shit. Poor
kid.
“Oh, no, buddy. It’s okay.” Beth moves to help Nolan. She bends down and rubs his back. Nolan leans against her and digs his knuckle into his sleepy eye.
I step past the two of them to get out of the bathroom.
“Reed?”
I look back at Beth when I get out into the hallway. Her eyes are pleading me not to go, to finish this conversation with her. But what does she expect me to do? She said yes.
I jerk my chin down the hall. “I’ll get Ben or Mia, and then I’m going to go.”
Her hand stills on Nolan’s back. “Oh,” she says quietly. “Okay. Well, it was nice seeing you again.”
My breath catches. The air in the hallway becomes too thick to inhale.
Fuck. She’s so damn sweet. Too sweet for her own good. How does she do it? How does she make me feel horrible when I’m only doing the right thing here? She said yes. She obviously wants to go out with CJ. Why does she care if I hang around tonight or not?
I stare back at the woman who I really don’t want to leave, but need to leave. All long, dark hair, big eyes, the sweetest heart-shaped face. My eyes fall to her boots, and a weak smile tugs at my mouth. I look up at her and let her have it. Whatever. It’s fucking hers anyway.
I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, sweetheart. Yeah, you too.”
I inform Ben what happened with Nolan, ignore CJ when he asks about Beth, tell everyone else at the table that Beth is fine and currently helping Nolan, and then walk out to my truck. If they asked me questions about what happened upstairs, I didn’t hear them. I didn’t hear anything, besides the voice in my head telling me to get the hell out of there.
I STEP THROUGH THE DOOR and take a quick sweep of the crowd.
The place is packed solid with women who barely look old enough to vote. Some are shaking their asses on the dance floor, grinding up against each other and loving the attention they’re getting. Others are sitting at the booths lined along the walls, giggling and whispering together.
I follow their eyes to the back of the room.
Assholes with stupid looking Greek letters on their shirts are standing by the pool table, fighting over who’s buying the next round. Frat guys.
Jesus fuck, it’s college night. This is why I don’t do this shit during the week.
I run a rough hand down my face.
Well, pussy is pussy. Legal pussy is all I care about. And after the shit that happened last night with Beth, I fucking need this.
Stepping up to the bar, I take a seat next to three girls huddled together, all of them sipping on something non-alcoholic. No way in hell are any of them twenty-one.
I wave over the bartender. Thank fuck it’s Mick and not Hattie.
“Give me a Coors, will ya? And another round for these three beauties.”
The one next to me turns her head, her eyes raking down the front of me, slowly taking me in. She’s hot enough. Blonde, short hair. Blue eyes. A smile that doesn’t make me stupid as shit. In other words, exactly what I fucking need.
Mick hands me my beer and gives the girls refills.
I lean closer to the one brushing up against my arm, doing all she can to press her tits into me. “I’m Reed. What’s your name, baby?”
Her eyes widen, she wets her lips nervously, biting and licking them like she can’t decide what to do. Her hand falls to my thigh. “Kellie. Thanks for the drink.”
“No problem. What brings you girls out tonight?”
I really don’t need her to answer this question. The way her nails are clawing at my leg is giving away why she’s really here, no matter what her next words are.
She sets her glass down and shifts on her stool. Her leg nudges between mine. “My boyfriend and I just broke up. My friends think I need to forget all about him. So I’m here.”
“Lucky me.” I grab my beer and take a long sip. “I’m looking to forget about someone too. We can help each other out with that.”
“Girlfriend?” she asks, leaning closer, practically crawling into my lap. “Did she break up with you?”
No, but shit if it doesn’t feel like she did.
“I just need a distraction.”
Smiling, she takes a sip from her straw, then pushes her drink away. Her free hand brushes against my cock. “I can be very distracting. My ex used to say I had the best mouth at Ruxton U.”
“Is that right?” I force myself to stay engaged. To seem interested. It’s a fucking struggle.
She nods, licking the corner of her mouth, pressing firmly against my flaccid cock. “Yup. Wanna find out for yourself?”
Christ, just do it. You’ll get into it once she starts.
I stand and Kellie takes the cue. Tossing two twenties onto the bar, I wrap my arm around her as needy hands tug at the bottom of my shirt, brushing against my lower abs. We get halfway to the exit before she pushes against me.
“Oh, wait! I forgot my purse.”
She runs back over to the bar. I stand in the middle of the dance floor, watching Kellie lean in and whisper to her friends. I’m trying to keep my interest on this chick. Problem is, my cock isn’t feeling it. I’m not feeling it.
Why the fuck am I here?
This isn’t going to work. Kellie’s not going to do anything for me. None of the women here would do anything for me. I turn to get the hell out of here and my eyes slam on the figure standing at the end of the bar.
Two plates in her hands. A fucking apron around her waist. Jimi Hendrix clinging to those perfect tits.
The only woman who would ever do something for me.
What the fuck? She’s working here? And Hendrix? Why the fuck is that sexy?
Our eyes lock, my heart joins my dick and reacts to her like I don’t want it to, beating erratically against my sternum, making my chest ache. She’s beautiful. Crazy, shining at me like a beacon, beautiful. Her hair pinned up off her neck. Her brown eyes lined with makeup, making them pop out even more at me. Those thick lips that still look swollen from our night together.
I want her. Fuck, I want her.
A hand pushes against my chest. Beth breaks eye contact, looking at something else. Or someone else.
I can’t think straight. God, I’m so hard. So fucking hard because of Beth. Always because of Beth. I close my eyes.
“Stroke my dick. Ah, yeah, like that. Fuck, look how hard I am. Look what you do to me.”
The night air hits me. My back presses against a wall. Something tugs at my belt as a burst of images fill my head.
Beth kneels between my legs, fists my cock, and swallows me whole like she’s been starving for it.
“Fuck.” My hands thread through her hair. “Your mouth. Holy shit,” I moan, lifting my hips off the mattress. So good. So fucking good. “God, Beth. Ah, fuck, don’t stop.”
A soft hand wrapping around my base snaps me into coherence. I look down at Kellie, on her knees outside the bar, hungry eyes staring up at me. The wrong color. Blue, instead of brown. Her lashes not as thick, not fluttering like they should be as her breathing quickens. She leans in to take me into her mouth.
“Fuck, stop.” I push her hand off and tuck my cock back into my jeans. I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.
Kellie lifts her head and glares up at me with wet lips. “What the hell?”
“This isn’t working for me. No offense.”
“Isn’t working for you?” She sits back on her heels and gestures to my cock. “You’re rock hard.”
Yeah, and it has nothing to do with you.
“How is this not working for you?” Her mouth falls open, eyes widening. “Oh my God. Are you gay?”
I laugh, zipping up and tightening my belt. Offering her my hand, I help her to her feet. “You have no idea how easy my life would be right now if that were the case. Go back inside to your friends. This isn’t going to happen.”
She looks up at me, confused, then shrugs her shoulders before turning and walking away. “Your loss,” she yells out, just before disappe
aring to the front of the building.
I palm my erection, rubbing my other hand down my face.
I should go in there. Talk to Beth, explain shit.
No, fuck, I need to get out of here. She said yes to CJ. What the fuck is there to explain?
I dig my keys out of my pocket, my other hand pulls out my phone. I send one message before I get the hell out of here. Why I send it? I have no fucking idea.
Me: Nothing happened.
Beth
“HOW ARE YOU DOING OVER there?”
I look up at Riley from across the small kitchen at Holy Cross. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, for the smile she’s fighting to come into focus. “Huh?”
She laughs, setting the baking sheet of dinner rolls on top of the counter. “You’ve been stirring those instant potatoes for the past ten minutes, which would be fine if the burner was turned on.”
“What?” I look down at the knob on the stove. I never turned it on? Are you kidding me right now? My hand clutching the spoon stills, my other forming over my eyes.
How am I doing? Not fucking good, apparently.
“Maybe I should switch with Wendy. I don’t know how I could screw up refilling the napkin dispenser.” I turn the burner on and continue stirring.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. The current situation in the Middle East? Kanye West’s unwavering affection for himself?” She lifts an eyebrow when I finally look up. “Obviously, whatever it is that has you spacing out over there. You can talk to me. My brother says I’m irritatingly perceptive when it comes to stuff.”
Riley moves around the kitchen, grabbing the serving trays and getting everything ready for the crowd we’re expecting today.
Maybe I’ll feel better talking to somebody about this. I debated on bringing it up to Mia when she called me over the weekend, but after making plans for another girl’s lunch, she had to get off the phone. She was at a doctor’s appointment and her name had been called. The more I think about it, the more I’m glad I haven’t asked her opinion on this. She’s friends with both Reed and CJ. I wouldn’t want Mia to feel like I’m putting her in between the two of them. Same with Tessa. But Riley could give me an unbiased opinion. And I need an opinion. Bad.
