Perfect Ten

by Nikki Worrell

  Never.

  Going.

  To.

  Happen.

  “I don’t know when you’ll meet her. We haven’t even had a real date yet. She was tricked into the dinner tonight. Our first real date isn’t until next Sunday, after I’m finished with my obligations at Perfect Ten.”

  “Obligations, as in dates?”

  “Yes. I have just three more, and then I’m done forever. I can’t wait.”

  “Couldn’t you just quit?”

  “Tried that. Didn’t go over so well. There’s more to it, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll be a free man next Sunday. Anyway, what I need to know is what should I wear to dinner? They’re rich. I mean filthy rich. Richer than even we were before Dad fucked everything up.”

  “Joe! Don’t start that. Do not talk about your father like that. Ever. And watch your language. Do you hear me?”

  It was a good thing she couldn’t see me, because there’s no way I could’ve held back my eye roll or my head shaking. She was loyal to a fault. He fucking bankrupted us and killed himself. He didn’t deserve her loyalty.

  “Sorry, Ma. So, what should I wear?”

  Luckily for me, she let it go without any further berating. “Let’s see. I think a nice pair of beige slacks with a darker-colored shirt. No tie, but maybe a casual dinner jacket. And dark shoes. Not suit shoes, but slip-ons. like those shoes you wear with your dark jeans.”

  I knew exactly which shoes she meant, and it sounded good to me. Now that I got the assurance I needed that I wouldn’t be over- or underdressed, I wanted to hang up and go pick out my clothes. Yeah, I can be such a girl sometimes, but it’s important to me to look good for Faith.

  “Great. Thanks, Ma. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  “Uh-huh. Sure, sweetie. Have fun.”

  Faith

  I only had about two hours left before Joe picked me up. Every minute of the day so far, I’ve wondered why I ever agreed to dinner. How on earth were we going to pull it off? My mother would never believe we’d been dating. I’m thinking about just telling her the truth.

  I really don’t think I can do it. I’m a horrible liar. One time, near the end of the eighth grade school year, Gracie and I cut. That wasn’t something either of us had ever done before, but she had found cigarettes in her older brother’s backpack, and we were curious what all the fuss was about. She also grabbed a mostly full bottle of vodka he had hidden in his closet.

  We were dropped off at school by my mother’s chauffer as usual, walked in the front door, strode down the long main hallway and right back out the rear door. I swore I was going to have a heart attack. My heart sounded like it was going to burst, its beating was so frantic. Not Gracie, though. She was cool as a cucumber.

  “Relax, Faith. We’re not going to get caught.”

  “Just go,” I whispered as I pushed her from behind. If we were going to do it, which apparently we really were, I wanted to get out of the view of the school.

  We heard the homeroom bell ring and squatted down so we wouldn’t be seen through any windows as we crept around the side of the building to the relative safety of the bus lot.

  We made it to the bus yard with shocking ease. With each step we took, I was sure someone would bust us and haul us into the principal’s office. My mother would have flipped her lid!

  “See? Nothing to it.” I couldn’t recall Gracie ever being afraid of anything. It was reassuring but terrifying at the same time. Her bravado never faltered, even when she was caught dead to rights—she just didn’t care. I’m not saying she was a bad kid or anything; she just took her lumps as they came. If she deserved the punishment—and she knew when she did—she accepted it without rancor.

  “Well, now what? We’re not going to stay in the bus lot all day, are we?” I gestured to the pack of slightly smashed Marlboros she had taken out of her pocket. “We can’t smoke them here. Someone will smell them.”

  “You’re probably right. Okay, follow me.”

  Gracie led me to the back of the lot, where there was a jagged opening cut in the fence. “How did you know this was here?”

  “This is where Scott Langley and I used to make out back during gym class.” She winked at me like she was a woman of the world, instead of an almost-fourteen-year-old eighth grader. Back then, she was my hero. Heck, she still was.

  We carefully scooted through the fence and made our way back to her house, which we knew would be empty until dinnertime. She walked into the backyard, me following closely on her heels. “Hurry up! I want to get off the streets.”

  “Faith, you have to chill out. We’re not going to get caught! I promise, okay?”

  I didn’t see that I had much choice at that point. I certainly wasn’t going to sneak back to school. “Yeah, okay.”

  Gracie took out a cigarette and lit it, coughing a little as she handed it to me. “I’ve only done this once before. Be careful inhaling.”

  Of course, my first drag on the cigarette had me hacking up a lung. Gracie pounded on my back until I pushed her away.

  “Good God! People actually do that more than once?” I was disgusted enough for it to last me a lifetime. “Give me the vodka. I’ll have that instead.”

  “Here.” The bottle was about three-quarters full, and I took a healthy swig. We’d had vodka once before, and I knew that I had to swallow it fast and allow it to settle.

  “That’s not too bad. A little bitter maybe, but I kind of like it.” And you already know I love dirty martinis to this day.

  “Give it here.” Grace put out her cigarette and threw the pack aside. Apparently, smoking wasn’t going to be an issue for either of us. She took a big gulp, and we plopped down onto the grass, both of us sitting with our legs crossed.

  After a good portion of the bottle was gone, and we were more than three sheets to the wind, we heard a moaning sound.

  “Is that coming from the house?”

  Gracie giggled when she heard it again. “Jason must be home. Just ignore it. It’ll be over soon.”

  “What’s he doing? Is he hurt?”

  Grace was laughing so hard, I couldn’t understand what she was saying, but the vodka made everything hysterically funny, and I started laughing too. As our laughter died down, I heard a banging coming from Jason’s open bedroom window and more moaning.

  “Go check it out,” Grace said with a snicker.

  I went and checked it out. That wasn’t only the day I found out my lying ability was pathetic—it was also the day I started fantasizing about sex. I’ll never forget watching Jason pound into his girlfriend as she gripped the headboard, moaning his name. It was like time stood still, and in that moment, I was mesmerized.

  I’d had a crush on Jason my whole life, and I wanted to be the girl he was banging up against the headboard. I must have made some kind of noise, because Jason’s head snapped around, and he looked right at me through the part in his curtains. Instead of yelling at me, he bit his lip and pounded even harder into his girlfriend, keeping eye contact with me the whole time. Never breaking our connection, he reached out and squeezed her breast, earning him another heartfelt moan. A few more thrusts, and I watched his eyes close, his body go taut, and his ass squeeze tight as he strained toward something I could only imagine.

  Thirty seconds or so went by before he collapsed on top of the girl, still holding my gaze. I ran back to where Gracie was, and she knew what I’d seen.

  “Holy shit, Gracie! Why did you let me go over there?”

  “Because I thought you’d like it. Did you?”

  “No! Of course not.” The vodka wasn’t working as well on me anymore. I figured it was shock.

  “Bet you got weird feelings in your girly parts, didn’t you? And your boobs are tingly too, right?”

  “I didn’t feel anything. You’re crazy.”

  Gracie looked pointedly at my boobs, which displayed my hard nipples pressed up against my T-shirt. “Care to try again?”

  Jason walked out then and
asked me if I liked the show. Grace pushed him toward the house. “Go back to your girlfriend, Jason. I was just having fun with Faith. I thought you’d yell at her to go away.”

  “So? Did you, Faith? Did you like the show?”

  My face was on fire, but I stuck to my denial. “N-no. It was…uh, disgusting.”

  He walked over to me and ever so slowly slid his finger from the tip of my nose to my belly button, right between my breasts. “Liar.”

  And he was right, obviously. I would have let him do that to me right there on the grass if he’d asked, and I was only fourteen!

  There were many other times over the course of my teenage years that I’d tried and failed to lie. Mostly to my mother. I never needed to lie to my father. The bottom line here was that I just knew my mother would never believe Joe and I have been dating. She didn’t look too far into it at Sassy’s wedding, but one-on-one? We were never going to pass under her radar.

  Chapter 23

  Joe

  Hallelujah! It was time to go—or close enough.

  I grabbed my overnight bag, trying not to think about Sophia. Faith was the only woman I wanted on my mind.

  “See you, girl. Tracey will be here soon. You know the drill. Behave.” Heidi gave me her assurance as only a dog could. I got a head bump to the knee and a nice rub up against my thigh that left black hair all over my beige pants. Not to worry, though. This wasn’t my first rodeo. I kept lint brushes in all my vehicles for just that reason. I actually have learned some valuable things working for Perfect Ten.

  Since I was going to be losing her soon, I took the Audi R8. Man, was I going to miss that car. It was so fucking hot. The metallic orange paint looked so sweet with the black accent lines, wide black grill, and chrome wheels. I’m telling you—that car is a wet dream. But, that’s okay. If I have my way, I’ll be replacing it with another wet dream.

  The charcoal interior hugged me like a long-lost friend as I got in and started the engine. Ah, the sound of that engine could make my cock jerk. But in reality, it was just a car, right?

  I pulled up to Faith’s almost an hour early. She answered the door looking slightly frazzled. In other words, she looked gorgeous. God, I’d missed her face.

  Not knowing exactly what the protocol was for greeting a girl I very well may be in love with but hadn’t dated unless she’d paid for me yet, I kissed her on the cheek.

  “Hi. You’re really early.”

  “I am. I’m sure I should apologize, but I just couldn’t wait to see you. Is that what you’re wearing tonight? I feel overdressed.”

  She had on a pair of washed-out jeans and a plain red, V-neck T-shirt. To me, she looked just as hot as she did in that killer orange dress. Yeah, I had it bad.

  “To my mother’s dinner party? Not a chance. No. I’m wearing a dress.”

  “So, am I underdressed?” I didn’t care. I was just talking to keep myself from attacking her lips. Master of my own cock. Master of my own cock.

  “No. You look great. Come on in.”

  I followed her in, captivated by the alluring sway of her hips. My hand reached out all on its own to cup her bottom. Of course, she jumped and spun around. I took advantage of her surprise and pulled her to me, covering her lips with mine. Fuck it. I’d become master of my dick another night.

  I tightened my grip on her waist to try to make her stay with me, but not so tight that she’d feel trapped. She didn’t immediately pull away, so I let my lips do the convincing.

  With both of my hands now on the small of her back, fingers resting on the top of her bountiful bottom, I shifted my legs to press more intimately against her so that she could feel how much I wanted her already. I didn’t want her to have any doubts as to how much and how quickly she got my engine running.

  One miniscule, delectable whimper from her was all the permission I needed to slip my tongue past her lips to tangle with hers. Her hands grabbed at my shirt, seeking for purchase as if I were solely responsible for her remaining standing. Score one for me.

  We had been slowly moving farther into the house as Faith’s legs hit something solid. I peeked out beneath half-closed eyes and saw a long narrow table with an oval mirror behind it on the wall. I liked the look of her in my embrace.

  Our lips broke apart, and I spun her around to look in the mirror. Her lips were wet and swollen from my kisses, and her eyes were glazed over with unspent passion.

  I let her see the raw emotion in my own eyes as I casually swept her hair to the side, granting me access to the fair skin on her neck. “I love touching you, Faith.” My teeth grazed her neck, and she jerk in my arms.

  “Do that again.” It came out as a whisper.

  “You like that?” She nodded, but I prodded her chin to look back up into the mirror. “Tell me. Look at me and tell me.”

  “I like it, Joe. Please do it again.” Her eyes were still turned slightly downward, but she licked her lips, and I could ask her for no more.

  My hands brushed over her arms from her shoulders all the way down to her hands as I kissed and nipped her neck. I intertwined our fingers as I sought her lips out again, but it wasn’t enough.

  “God, I want you. Say yes. Let me make love to you.” I think deep inside I knew she’d pull away, but when she did, I had a hard time dealing with it.

  “I’m sorry. I got carried away.” She turned around and looked down at my big guy, taking a short breath. “Wow. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  Of course, she didn’t mean to. I knew how she worked. She got carried away by our kisses and forgot herself. That was when she was being true to her own desires—and I wanted to show her that.

  “Nothing to be sorry about. Just kiss me again.” When I reached for her to pull her back into me, she didn’t back away. As a matter of fact, she all but flew into my arms.

  Our kissing became so heated that it was almost violent. Our lips couldn’t be separated for more than a second; our hands were everywhere, and I got so carried away that we banged our teeth together several times. It’s like that was our MO for kissing.

  “Fuck. Joe, we have to stop.” Whoa. Faith said fuck. And it was hot. It’s so hot when a nice girl talks dirty. And I didn’t stop. And she didn’t push me away. I took that as acquiescence. I guess a gentleman would have stopped, but I never claimed to be a gentleman. Not really.

  I slipped my hands up under her shirt and cupped her breasts. They were too big for my hands, and I couldn’t wait to get her bra off to see how much they spilled over. I fucking loved them already. “Off.” I tugged at her shirt, breaking contact with her only long enough to whip it over her head.

  “Joe, wait.” She was covering herself with her arms. “This is not a good idea. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Yes, we should.” I ran my tongue around her ear. “It’s a fantastic idea.”

  My thumbs brushed her nipples poking through her bra, making her shudder and moan. “Oh God.” I almost had her. I knew I did. Was I a bastard for pushing this? I knew she wanted me. She tried to cover herself once more when I broke away to look at her.

  “Please don’t do that. Let me look at you.” Before she answered, I put my lips back to hers in an effort to stop her from thinking. When she was panting once again, I gently grabbed her hands and slowly lifted her arms out to her sides. Her head immediately hung down. “Jesus, Faith. Look at me.” I waited for what seemed like forever for her to lift her head and look at me. Instead of continuing my journey with my eyes, I leaned in and placed a few kisses on her collarbone, her neck, and the skin just above her breasts, keeping a light hold on her hands.

  “You’re gorgeous, and I want to see every inch of your incredible body.”

  “But—”

  I covered her lips again to stop her from talking. It became my go-to move, and it worked. Her entire body relaxed. “God. I can’t fight you anymore, Joe. I want you too much.”

  “Good.”

  Taking a page from my book, she slid he
sitant hands up my chest and mumbled “Off” against my lips.

  My shirt quickly joined hers on the floor of the entryway. “Bedroom.” She grabbed my hand and led me toward the back of the house. I vaguely noted that the walls were a soft yellow and had pictures of something on them.

  Her bedroom boasted a king-size bed with a white-and-light-blue comforter on it. The walls were painted the same pale blue, with beach-scene artwork hung over the bed and between the two large windows.

  She stopped abruptly as if she were either going to kick me out or she simply didn’t know what to do. I made it easy on her. I picked her up and carried her over to the bed.

  “Joe! Careful, you’ll hurt your back.”

  “Never. You’re light as a feather.” I’d hold her all day if she’d let me.

  I sat her on the bed with a quick kiss and knelt before her. One sandal and then the next were placed on the floor beside the bed. Then I ran my hands gently up her legs and pushed her back onto the bed with my body as I rose up from my kneeling position, kicking my own shoes off as I went.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Faith’s hands were tentative as she started to run her fingers over my chest, getting bolder with each pass. My aching cock begged to be free, but I didn’t want to move too quickly for her.

  “You make me feel so good, Faith. Please don’t stop.” I covered one of her hands with mine, over my heart. I wanted her to feel how fast my heart was beating for her. “Feel that? Feel what you do to me?”

  I propped my body up on one elbow, leaning over her, and let my free hand explore her at my leisure. “You’re so soft.” I fingered the straps of her bra. “Can we please lose this? If I don’t get to see your breasts soon, I’m going to die. You don’t want me to die, do you?”

  I got the smile I was hoping for, even if it was small and unsure. “No. I don’t want that.” She got up off the bed and reached around behind her, just watching me watch her. I had flipped over onto my back, resting on my elbows, enjoying the show.