by A. M. Wilson
“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime,” I tossed out as I turned to leave the lobby.
I didn’t imagine it when I heard her say, “I’d like that,” and I smiled to myself all the way back to the car.
I needed to lock down the flurry of emotions that were released by seeing her again. And nothing worked better for evading my feelings than a hard, rough fuck. I had spent the better part of the last three months losing myself inside of whatever girl was willing enough to come home with me. The past few weeks I thought I had locked those emotions down, but mere seconds of seeing Lena’s face and I was slapped with the full force of them.
Good thing I was quick at making new plans.
The music was a little too loud as I sat on the stool at Gypsies, twenty minutes before nine, nursing a glass of whiskey. This was the type of place I was used to. The bartender left me alone except when I held up my empty glass signaling the universal sign for another. There weren’t a bunch of slutty girls running around looking for someone to take them home. There were a few pool tables, a jukebox in the corner, a small stage for live gigs, and a handful of mostly empty round tables. It was dark, relaxing, and comfortable.
Three glasses down, promptly nine o’clock, and she wasn’t hard to miss.
The tall, sexy blonde walked in and commanded the attention of every male head in the room. And when the equally sexy raven haired girl stood from her table in the corner, they all began to salivate. Bunch of fucking dogs. There were only two reasons I was here tonight.
To get some information on Lena.
And then to forget her.
I stayed in my seat, but kept an eye on their table as they hugged each other and sat down. The dark haired girl handed over the extra drink she’d ordered. I ordered myself another whiskey and sipped it slowly, letting the time tick by. Twenty after nine, the girls rose from their seats to join the few random others dancing on the small open stretch of floor.
Now that she was standing under a little more light, I could unobtrusively take her in. The blonde had on a flowing white tank top that dressed her tits beautifully. She was wearing dark jeans so tight they could have been painted on, and her long, lean legs ended strapped to a pair of four inch red heels that made my dick hard.
I didn’t even notice the other chick.
I sat back and watched for over an hour as the two drank and danced and talked, waiting for the right time to make myself known. I saw the way she had been looking at me yesterday. I didn’t miss how she said she hoped to see me again. It wouldn’t take much to have this girl bending at my will; my little insider.
I pretended not to notice when she came up to the bar to order more drinks. I heard her little intake of breath as she spotted me, but I kept my eyes fixed to the condensation on my glass. Not until she said, “Hi,” in that quiet, flirty little voice of hers did I give her my attention. I spun on my stool and leaned back, one leg perched on the rung of the chair, the other stretched out in front of me. I had one arm supported on the bar clutching my glass, the other hung loosely against my thigh. I didn’t speak. Instead, I lifted an eyebrow and brought my glass to my mouth for a drink.
Her eyes watched me as I swallowed, and a flush rose to her cheeks. She smiled shyly before rejoining her friend, looking back over her shoulder at me once on her way.
Oh yeah. She was right where I needed her to be.
Twenty minutes later, I watched as she excused herself and headed into the woman’s bathroom. I tossed back the rest of my drink and rose slowly to follow her, trying to be inconspicuous. When I pushed open the heavy door to the restroom, my eyes locked on the reflection of hers as she stood by the sink and fixed her makeup in the mirror. I walked in and didn’t stop until I was right in front of her. I reached out taking the back of her head in my hand, threaded those silky blonde strands between my fingers, and walked her back until she was pressed tightly against the wall.
Her eyes registered surprise, but after the initial shock wore off they reflected nothing but pure, hot lust.
“Mr. Dawson,” she gasped before I claimed her mouth with my own. She let me take her right there in that dirty, old bathroom without even giving me her name.
Look out Preston, I found my way in.
CHAPTER FIVE
I trudge into work the next morning trying not to breathe too deeply, carrying both my purse and workbag along my right shoulder instead splitting the load with my left side. Fortunately, I didn’t break any ribs, only bruised some pretty badly. The doctor gave me a prescription for some painkillers, but I haven’t taken any this morning. Narcotics have made me feel pretty loopy in the past, and I need a clear head while at work. I’d hate to get fired on my second day on the job.
I make my way upstairs to my desk, which is situated immediately outside Michelle’s office. Her door is closed with the light off. She must not be here yet.
Having a few quiet minutes to myself before she arrives, I pull out my phone to type a quick text to Elias to thank him for saving my life and taking care of me last night.
He waited with me in the emergency room for four hours until the doctor was satisfied with my scans and sent me home with a prescription. Elias took his time walking me to the truck, putting extra care in making sure my seatbelt wasn’t too tight or too uncomfortable. I couldn’t help from apologizing a few dozen times for ruining the rest of our date. After reassuring me an equal amount of times that it wasn’t my fault, he brought me to pick up my car from the work parking lot, and we went our separate ways.
When I engage my phone, however, I find a text from him waiting for me.
-I really enjoyed dinner last night. We have a date to finish. I’ll pick you up at five. -E
While smiling down into my lap, I fail to notice Michelle stepping off the elevator.
“Ready for another busy day?” she asks, waving me into her office.
I quickly type out –absolutely- to Elias, grab my work binder, and dart in the office after Michelle.
Michelle sets me to work with a list of tasks while she prepares herself for an afternoon in court. She’s given me more than enough to keep me busy, but the phone won’t stop ringing off the hook, making it almost impossible to get any work done. I’m starting to wonder if Katie is transferring the majority of these calls to me so she doesn’t have to do her job. If I get one more call about scheduling for one of the other attorneys, I’m going to give her a piece of my damn mind!
As soon as I finish proofreading the last paragraph of the Affidavit I’ve been drafting, the phone rings, interrupting this same task for the fourth time this morning.
“Brooks and Boulder. This is Marlena speaking,” I answer, trying to keep the frustration from my tone.
“Well hello there,” a deep, playful, male voice replies.
“Hi, can I help you?”
“You have a very beautiful voice,” he responds, ignoring my question.
“Um, thank you. Is there something I can do for you?” Is this a trick? Is Katie having her friends prank me or something?
The man sighs through the receiver. “You can talk to me. I’d like to listen to your voice all day long. I’ll bet you have a beautiful face to match that beautiful sound.”
What the hell is this? I don’t have time for entertaining whoever this is. I’m already behind on my list for the day. “Sir, are you a client of ours?” I ask, trying to speed this conversation along. I’m fairly certain hanging up on a client my second day on the job would get me into a lot of trouble.
“Call me sir again.”
“Sir—” I cough. Damnit! I wasn’t trying to play into his little game. My manners just won out over the bitchiness I wanted to use. How embarrassing, he probably thinks I’m flirting with him.
He groans, making a perverted sound. “Oh, honey. That was perfect. Say it again.”
“Excuse me, but if you aren’t a client of ours, I’m going to have to let you go.”
“Don’t you fucking hang up on me.” A
ll signs of flirtation and playfulness evaporate in a nanosecond. The deep growl in his voice is so intense, I feel my stomach bottom out. My words are choked off by anxiety and nerves so I remain silent, hoping he’ll say what he needs to say and hang up. “Did you hang up on me?” he asks into the quiet static.
I clear my throat gently, trying to regain composure before I speak. “N-No. I’m still here. What can I help you with?”
“This is Rollins. See, I ain’t got no family, and I wanted to make a phone call. I’m at County, and I’m lookin’ for you to talk to me.”
“Nice to meet you Rollins. I’m sorry, but I’m really busy today. Maybe you can try again—ˮ I don’t get to finish my sentence, because Rollins cuts me off.
“Bitch, is Michelle there? Let me talk to Michelle.”
“I’m sorry, but Ms. Bryant is out of the office. I can take a message for you if you’d—ˮ He cuts me off again!
“I ain’t leavin’ no fuckin’ message. You girls always say that. You’re lyin’. She’s there. Put her on the phone.” His voice is getting more agitated the longer I talk to him. My mind is working on overdrive trying to come up with a way off the phone without hanging up.
“Rollins, I’m not lying. She’s in court right now. If you can tell me what this is about, I’ll leave her a message for you.”
“Fuck that. Fuck you for messin’ with me. All you girls in that office just mess with me. Let me talk to my fucking attorney!”
I clench the phone tighter, trying to dispel the shakiness in my hands. My mouth is dry, and I can’t think of anything to say to placate him.
Dropping his voice to a whisper, he keeps talking. “I’ll come after you. And all those other little girls who mess with me while I’m locked up. You’re all gonna regret messin’ with me. I’m comin’, don’t you for—ˮ
Suddenly, the line goes dead.
“Shit, you’re white as a ghost,” a man says, his finger still pressed down on the button on my phone. I recognize him as one of the interns I met yesterday. He’s about 5’9 and very preppy in a light blue polo and khakis, and his short dark hair combed neatly to one side. Brandon? Brendon? Brant?
“I’m Brad,” he supplies when I don’t say anything. “I was on my way to lunch and couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. And from the noise coming through the phone, I’m guessing that was Rollins.”
“Yes,” I breathe, relieved that someone understands. “Is he always like that?”
He chuckles. “Unfortunately. Mostly when he doesn’t get what he wants, which is practically every day. He likes to spend his phone time chatting with the office staff.”
“God, that was awful. How do you deal with him?”
“Since I’m a guy, I don’t have to deal with him. But you’re lucky Michelle wasn’t here. She’d be going off on your ass for letting him speak to you that way.”
“I didn’t want to be rude,” I mutter sheepishly.
“Rude?” Brad bursts out laughing. “Sometimes, you just have to be rude. Next time, tell him you’ll let Michelle know he called and just hang up. Unless she’s here of course and taking calls.”
“Thank you. I’d probably still be listening to him cuss me out if it wasn’t for you.”
“Hey any time,” he says through a bright, dazzling smile. “If you need anything else, let me know. My 4x8 box is right down the hall.” Brad winks at me before turning towards the elevators.
After fifteen minutes of silence, I can’t help but wonder if Brad had a chat with Katie on his way out to lunch. My phone has suddenly been very quiet.
***
Five o’clock rolls around faster than I expected after another full day of work kept me incredibly busy. I pack my workbag and head down to the lobby to meet Elias.
He’s hard to miss; his tall, muscular frame folded as he leans over the receptionist desk talking with Katie. He’s resting casually on the desk, looking comfortable.
There is history between them; I’m just not sure what kind.
Ugh! The green monster roils through me, a grate of red-hot coals starting a slow burn in my gut. I straighten my shoulders and take a calming breath before starting in their direction. Elias asked me out on another date; he shouldn’t get upset if I interrupt their little conversation.
“Hey you ready to go?”
Elias straightens at the sight of me, sending a smile my way that goes straight to my heart like a bullet.
“Hey, you. Yeah, I’m ready. See ya, Katie,” he says, waving in her general direction as he turns towards me. He places his hand on the small of my back, ushering me towards the door.
“How are your ribs feeling today? Did you take any of that medicine the doctor prescribed for the pain?” The concern in his voice is palpable. His sweet thoughtfulness surprises me—the words at odds with his appearance. He looks rougher around the edges than the gentle man he’s proving himself to be, but the glowing neon Danger! sign is still constantly present in the back of my mind.
“They’re sore,” I tell him before I let the silence linger too long. “I didn’t take the pills this morning because I wanted to have a clear head for work.”
“Do you have them with you, or should we swing by your apartment to get them?”
“They’re in my purse. I was going to take one depending on what we were doing tonight.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“I just mean if we are drinking, or operating heavy machinery, I should lay off the painkillers.”
“I have some heavy machinery for you to operate,” his innuendo is clear as he unlocks his truck.
“Well, I don’t necessarily need a clear head for that,” I reply my stomach clenching in response to his suggestion.
“Oh, yes you do,” he growls, “I need you clear headed and sober so you can get the full experience when I touch and torture every single inch of that beautiful body of yours.”
My entire body flushes; the skin from my chest to my hair roots morphing into a deep crimson. My eyes drop to stare at an interesting rock on the pavement. I roll it beneath the sole of my shoe.
“Relax, Marlee. I’d never hurt you. That’s not the plan for tonight. I thought we’d just head to my place to continue where we left off last night. I had some songs I wanted to play for you.” Elias rounds the hood to the driver’s side, and I take a deep, cleansing breath.
“I am relaxed. I’m just…I’ve never done that before.”
“You’re a virgin?” He glances at me sideways as we climb in, trying but failing to hide the slightly stunned look on his handsome face.
“No! I’m not a virgin. I’ve...never done the whole one night stand thing.” If my body could get any redder, I’m certain it just darkened three shades.
Abruptly, he hits the breaks and slams the shifter back into park, surprising me. He unbuckles his seatbelt, twists his body across the center console to find my face, and pulls me to look at him.
“If you think for one second that all I want from you is one night, you are mistaken. We’ve hardly known each other a second but let me make my intentions clear. I’m not going to put a number on how long I want you,” he pauses, his thumbs stroking the sensitive flesh of my cheeks, his long fingers tangling with my hair lying on my neck. “I’m drawn to you. I want you as mine, your body as mine and only mine. I’m a man who knows what I want. I go after what I want. And what I want is to know everything there is to know about you.” His eyes bore into mine, once again reminding me of depthless pools of clear blue water.
And I’m drowning.
“I never said I only want one night. And I’m not going anywhere until I get what I want.” He turns back into his own seat, shifts into drive, and pulls smoothly out of the lot. He’s effectively stunned me into silence.
I wish I could tell him, I want that too.
In the bright daylight, Elias’s building looks even more astounding than I remembered from the night before. This time, we park in th
e underground lot, and as fearful I am of the dark space, it’s not quite as scary with Elias with me. Stupid childish flaw.
We take the elevator to his floor, and Elias unlocks his door as I admire the profile of his face. The sharp angle of his jaw, light with stubble. The perfect slope of his nose. I wish to trace each line, each crease with my fingertips.
The foyer opens into a large, modern looking kitchen with stainless steel appliances, cabinets a smoky gray color, white walls, and cream-colored countertops. Hanging pendant lights add a dim glow to the room. Beyond the kitchen, the apartment opens up into a large living room with two ottoman chairs, a red microfiber couch, and a rich cherry wood coffee table. Across from the seating is a large flat screen television mounted on the wall above a stone finished fireplace.
“Can I get you something to drink? I’d prefer nonalcoholic so you can take one of your pills.”
“Fine,” I pout. “I’ll take some water then.”
“You’re cute when you’re angry. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”
Elias walks into the kitchen, and I seat myself on the couch. His apartment is very clean and comfortable for a bachelor. I wonder who decorated it.
“Here’s your water.” Elias sits down beside me with a rich mahogany guitar in his left hand.
“Thank you,” I reply before taking a sip.
He settles himself with his knees apart, the bell of the guitar resting against his right thigh. His focus is elsewhere as he begins to strum each string individually, using his other hand to adjust the knobs on the neck. He’s sexy as hell as he tunes his guitar. The sight is a distraction, and I set my water and pills on the table without taking one. My mouth is watering, and he hasn’t even begun to play yet.
“You need a napkin?”
“What?”
“For the drool on your chin? You’re staring so hard; I wouldn’t want you to drown.”
