“Fine, but when you find one, you better let the song play for at least thirty seconds so we can hear it.”
“That’s fine. You’re going to lose, anyways,” she’s very sure of herself and gives me a smug smile.
Her index finger hits the button and the first song that comes on is “Blurred Lines.” “Crap, keep going,” I push her finger to depress the button again.
“Hey! I was listening to that,” she complains.
“If we’re going to listen to every song that plays, we’re gonna run out of gas.”
“Fine,” she sulks.
The next channel is classical, so she keeps going. After another ten channels that all consist of rap, top forty, and easy listening, she jabs me. “It’s not looking too good for you. You might want to turn around at the next exit.”
“It’s not over ‘til the fat lady sings,” I take over the search. “Oh hey, will ya look at that, the fat lady is singing!” an Adele song is playing.
She laughs at my joke. “You’re mean. There are only a few more channels until we’re back to where we began.”
“I have faith that the Rock N’ Roll gods won’t let me down,” I push the button one more time and there it is, the famous guitar riff and scream. “Wooooooooo… Wooooooooo… Cha! Welcome to the Jungle…” Axl Rose’s signature voice comes pouring into the car. “YES! Ha,” I crank up the volume until it’s blaring and start banging my head to the music.
Salem immediately covers her ears to block the sound. Her lips begin to move, but I can’t hear what she’s saying over the music.
“What?” I say loudly, raising my hand to my ear. “I can’t hear you.”
She begins to speak again and still, I hear nothing.
“Huh?”
Angrily, she reaches for the volume, but I swat her hand away. “Hands off, I’m listening to my victory song!”
She shoots me a nasty look, then sits back into her seat, and crosses her arms. She’s obviously used to getting her way.
As the song comes to an end, I turn the volume down, “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
“Never mind,” she pouts.
“I see I have a sore loser on my hands,” I grin and give her a wink.
“I’m not a sore loser,” she’s scowling.
“Then why are you pissed off?”
“I’m not pissed.”
“Okay, if you say so,” I’m irritated now. I’m done playing her games, I won the bet fair and square. I veer into the left lane and start slowing down.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you home.”
“The next exit isn’t for at least fifteen miles,” she insists.
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m doing this,” I crank the wheel to the left, cutting across the median and onto the highway, going the opposite direction.
“You’re crazy!” she screams, reaching down for my arm and digging her nails into my skin.
“Ahhh,” I wail in pain and quickly pull my arm from her grip. I feel blood begin to trickle down my arm. “What the fuck?”
“I thought you were going to kill us,” she’s breathing heavily.
“Kill us? I pulled a U-turn and there’s no one on the road but us.”
“Just take me home,” she snaps at me.
“Gladly,” I grip the steering wheel tightly.
How could we go from having a good time of laughing and joking to not even speaking? We drive in silence for about ten miles before I can’t take it anymore. I reach for the volume and turn it up a little. “Smokin’ in the Boys Room” by Motley Crue is playing. I smile to myself and turn it up a bit more. I tap out the beat of the music with my thumbs on the steering wheel as I drive.
“What exit am I getting off?”
“Exit fifteen,” is all I get in reply. Man, she’s bitchy.
“That was back to back Motley Crue here on ‘Nights with Alice Cooper,’” we hear the DJ announce.
Salem twists her body towards me, nearly jumping out of her seat, “You tricked me!”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“Nights with Alice Cooper,” she points to the radio.
“Yeah… so?” I shrug my shoulders.
“Like you didn’t know it was going to be on,” she purses her lips.
“Seriously, you really think highly of yourself, don’t you?” I shake my head.
“What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”
“You actually think I’d go to the trouble to trick you about the song, just to win dinner with you?”
She stares out the passenger’s window to avoid me.
“Wow! You’re a real piece of work.”
“Just take me home,” she demands.
“Oh, I am.”
I’ve never met a woman that makes me feel like I want to both kill and fuck her senseless at the same time; until now. It’s aggravating as hell. I try getting a look at her from the corner of my eye, but all I can see is a shadow with its arms crossed. She’s a freakin’ spoiled brat.
“Exit fifteen is next,” she informs me.
“Yeah, I know. I can read.”
“I didn’t mean that you can’t read,” she apologizes.
“Oh really? ‘Cause, you know, I’m a Neanderthal and all, and I’m pretty sure cavemen can’t read.”
She sighs heavily at my snarky response.
“Where am I going after we get off the exit?”
“I live on Concord Avenue.”
“I should’ve known,” I mutter under my breath. Concord Avenue is one of the richest sections in the city.
“I beg your pardon?” she turns to look at me.
“What now?” I play dumb.
“Did you say something?”
“Nope, nothing at all.”
“You can take Western Ave. Or not,” she points out the window as I speed by Western Ave.
“Don’t worry about me, doll. I know exactly where I’m going.”
She just shakes her head then leans it back against the headrest.
I wake her as I pull onto her street, “Salem. Salem?” I say louder, touching her arm.
“Huh?” she jumps at my touch.
“What’s your house number?”
“Ten seventeen,” she yawns, rubbing her eyes. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Only about ten minutes.”
“My condo is right there,” she points to a light colored three-story building.
“Condo?” I blurt out. I have a hard time believing that’s a condo, it looks more like a townhouse to me. “Do you live here alone?”
“No, I live with my friends, Jocelyn and Daniela. My parking spot is…” her sentence ends abruptly.
I look over and catch her eyes narrowing.
“What’s the matter?”
“That fucker is here,” she bites out.
I’m taken back by her language. Throughout the night, I’ve seen her pretty pissed off, but not once has she come close to dropping the F-bomb. “Who?”
“Blaine, that’s who.”
“How do you know?”
“Look,” she points out his Corvette, parked directly in front of her condo.
“Oh.”
“I’m not falling for his bullshit tonight.”
“Bullshit?” I know he’s a cheating douchebag, but does she actually know he’s cheating on her? And, more importantly, if she knows, then why stick around? I park her car right behind Blaine’s.
“I’m not interested in his lies.”
“Do you want me to come in with you?” I touch her hand lightly and I can feel her trembling.
“No, I’ll be fine. I’m gonna show him the door as soon as I walk through it,” her voice is shaking and tears are building in her eyes.
I turn the car off, and removing the keys from the ignition I tell her, “I’m coming in.”
“Honestly, Gab… I mean Saint,” she corrects herself, “you’ll probably just make matters worse. How are we g
oing to explain that you drove me home?”
“There’s nothing to explain. You were upset, and I was there to help a friend out. Nothing happened. We’re just friends.”
“He won’t see it like that,” she lowers her head, “he’s extremely jealous.”
I exit the car and I’m at her door in three seconds flat. Opening the door, I kneel down in front of her. “Has he ever laid a hand on you?” the rage begins to brew inside me. I will fuck his shit up if I find out he’s touched her that way. Even if I wasn’t entranced by her, I’d kick the ever-living shit out of him for hitting a woman.
“No,” her voice is hoarse.
“Are you telling me the truth? ‘Cause, I’ll go fuck him up right now,” anger is taking over me as I clench my fists, “I’m not letting you do this alone.”
A soft smile spreads across her face and her anger melts away as she reaches out for my hand.
“Come on,” I say calmly, trying to pull myself together. She’s called me a Neanderthal a few times already, and here I am, proving her right. Gently, I lead her from the car and shut the door behind her. Both of us stand at the bottom of the stairs to her condo as we stare at the door; neither of us saying a word. I make the first move up the steps but I can feel her hesitation. “I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. I promise.”
Looking at me, she nods, then we continue to climb the stairs; together. Her grip tightens the closer we get to the door. “Sain…”
I put my hand up to stop her from talking. “Gabriel, you can call me Gabriel.”
“Gabriel,” she exhales, her eyes fixated on mine. My heart begins to pound and my palms sweat. It’s as if she was born to say my name, the way it flows off her lips. What is she doing to me? And how do I make it stop?
The door opens abruptly. “Sweetheart, I’ve been worried sick about you,” Blaine is standing in the doorway with a worried look on his face. Salem quickly lets go of my hand. “Saint? What are you doing here?”
Before he can ask another question, I cut him off. “You’re never going to believe who showed up at Shikago’s looking for you!” I explain, trying to make light of the situation and clue him in at the same time.
“What?” Blaine turns to Salem, “Why would you think I was there?”
“Because you left me,” she spits out.
“Left you? Sweetheart, I just went out to the store for some wine. I thought we were going to have a romantic evening at home,” he pulls her into a hug.
I roll my eyes behind his back. He’s so fucking full of shit, I hope Salem isn’t falling for this.
“I think it’s time for you to go, Blaine,” she pushes him away.
“Come on, sweetheart.” And, cue in the groveling.
“Blaine, I’m tired and I just want to go to bed.”
“I can join…” raising her hand to his face, she stops him from saying another word.
“I don’t want to hear your bullshit tonight.”
I quickly lower my head, trying to hide my smile. She just totally shut him down.
“Well, you don’t have to be such a bitch about it!” He turns on his heel and storms back into the condo, slamming the door behind him.
The smile I’ve been trying to hide turns into a laugh. I can’t help it. He’d just acted like a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum.
Salem begins to laugh right along with me, “Is he a diva or what?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
No sooner has our laughter quieted down, when the door flings open. Blaine stomps past us and down the stairs, gets into his car, and speeds away.
We stand on the steps, watching as his car fades into the darkness. “I guess I should go too,” I manage to murmur as my heart grows heavy. I realize, in this moment, that I don’t want to leave. I want to stay, caress her sun-kissed skin, and nibble on her beautiful exposed neck.
“Yeah, you probably should,” she responds softly, avoiding eye contact.
“Sooo… I’ll bring her back tomorrow morning?” I nervously shuffle my feet back and forth. I feel like a fifteen year old asking a girl out for the very first time.
“Yes, that’ll work. Are you going to need a ride back to your place?”
“Nah, I’ll have someone follow me. No worries.”
“Are you sure? Because it’s really no bother, it’s the least I can do,” she sounds so convincing.
“Well, if you’re offering, that’ll be great. ‘Cause I’m not even sure if Adrian, my roommate, is coming home tonight.”
“Plus, I do owe you dinner,” she looks up at me with a coy little smirk and bats her eyelashes.
I try to hide my excitement, I thought that bet was as good as done after our tiff in the car. “What about Blaine?”
“What about him? He certainly doesn’t ask my permission when he disappears to God knows where,” she huffs.
“Can you give me your phone number? I’ll text you in the morning,” I pull my cell phone out of my pocket.
“Oh, sure.”
She digs through her purse until she finally finds her phone. “Here, put your number in there for me too.”
“Okay,” taking the phone from her hand, I hit the button on the bottom. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“You didn’t check your phone while we were driving around?”
“No, why?”
“Because you have twenty-five missed calls,” I turn the phone in her direction so she can see.
“Yeah, and I bet twenty of them are from Blaine,” she says dismissively.
“Well, I guess he was worried about you.”
“He wasn’t worried. He just didn’t know where I was. Blaine is a control freak and he wants to know where I am at all times.”
“Yet, he doesn’t treat you the same.” I can’t resist taking a jab at him.
“Exactly. That’s why I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine tonight. To see how he likes it.”
“So you used me?” I can’t hide the disappointment in my voice.
“No, I didn’t use you,” she assures me while running her hand gently down my arm.
My heart begins to beat out of my chest at her touch. My mind is racing and my body aches for her to touch me again. I start to fantasize about her loosening my tie with her delicate fingers; unbuttoning my shirt, taking her sweet time with each button, her hands running up over my shoulders and down my arms, gently teasing my skin with her fingertips. I shudder at my thoughts, trying to keep my breathing calm and my hard-on hidden, so she doesn’t realize what her touch actually does to me.
“I really did have a great time tonight, considering,” she smiles.
“So did I.”
“Well, I better get inside. My roommates are probably wondering what I’m doing out here. I’m sure Blaine gave them an earful.”
“Fuck him.”
She laughs as she reaches for the door knob, “Text me in the morning.”
“I will.”
We both stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to do next.
“Goodnight, Salem,” I turn to walk down the stairs.
“Gabriel,” she says quickly.
“Yeah?” I turn to face her.
Before I know what’s happening, she’s kissing me.
“Goodnight,” she whispers where her lips are pressed gently against my cheek. I close my eyes, trying to take a mental picture of what is happening.
Pulling away from her, I stammer, “I got… I gotta go,” then I run down the steps and to her car, where I take another look at her through the glass. She stands at the top of the steps looking confused, then turns and enters her condo. Getting into the car, I hit the steering wheel several times with the palms of my hands. I had her. She was within my grasp. It was my chance to take her into my arms and show her exactly what I want to do to her; to please her, like no man has ever done before. Why didn’t I? What the fuck is wrong with me?
“He who is not courageous enough to take risks will accom
plish nothing in life.”
—Muhammad Ali
I wake this morning with a raging hard-on. My dreams had been filled with Salem. The way her soft, sensual lips brushed up against my cheek. The smell of her sweet, fruity perfume; I can still smell it on my body from sitting in her car for so many hours last night. The way her fingers ran down my arm and how they lingered there for a moment. Everything about her excites me. I turn from my stomach to my side, trying to get more comfortable, and reach into my boxers to adjust myself. My erection is so hard it hurts; I need a release. I’m not sure I can handle spending any amount of time with her like this. At this rate, I may explode in my pants at dinner.
I pull down the front of my boxers and my cock springs free. With a slow and steady movement, I begin sliding my hand up and down the shaft, quickly realizing that I’m going to need some lube. Dry skin on skin is not a pleasant feeling, too much friction. I jump up from my bed and I’m at my dresser within a few paces. Opening the top drawer, I reach inside for the bottle and squirt a quarter-sized drop into the palm of my hand, then I put it back in the drawer.
Maneuvering back onto the bed is challenging with my boxers around my knees, while trying not to spill what’s in my hand. Once I’m situated and comfortable, I begin to think about Salem’s lips, her scent, her voice, and the way it sounded when she whispered, “Goodnight.” It was like she didn’t want to say goodbye. At least, that’s how I remember it.
My hand again finds my cock, and I slowly begin working it up and down, leaving a thin layer of lube on my skin. Closing my eyes, thoughts of my conversation with Salem about massages come back to me and I slide into a daydream.
I’m in a tranquil spa, sitting on a table with a white towel wrapped around my waist. The surroundings are serene, with soft sounds of nature playing through speakers and a faint scent of flowers in the air.
“Good afternoon, Sir.” I do a double take when I realize it’s Salem who has entered the room and greeted me. Her hair is pulled back into a very tight bun and she’s speaking with a fake Swedish accent.
She looks stunning wearing a one-piece white uniform. It reminds me of something a nurse would have worn many years ago, except this one is form-fitting and has a plunging neckline. The uniform hugs her body and the fabric is almost sheer at certain angles. Her breasts are pressed firmly against the front; her ample cleavage is showing, and her erect nipples are poking through the material.
On the Ropes Page 14
