Gisele Vs. Guitar Hero

by Mona Cox

  Her words tear at my heart. Chase is leaving? There’s been a part of me that was okay with not being in the same room as him – not happy, but okay – because I knew he was in the same city.

  But Becca is right; the show does end tonight, and why would he stay after the show ends? There’s no point in that. It’s not like he loves New York City like I do. It’s not like he’s going to move here, just so he can breathe the same air I do.

  It’s not like I want him to do that.

  Right?

  I realize that there are tears dripping down my face. I’m so embarrassed. I dash at my face with the back of my hands. Without a word, Becca picks up a cocktail napkin and offers it to me. I dab at my face, trying not to smear my makeup everywhere, but let’s be honest – I’ve never been a pretty crier.

  “Honey, you haven’t said much about Chase to me, but I do know that you’ve been damn miserable these last two weeks,” she says, stroking her hand through my hair consolingly. “If he is what makes you happy, you have to go after him.”

  The opera music – if you can call it music – reaches a crescendo, making it hard to talk. I wait for it to die down before saying, “But he’s a cowboy. What does a cowboy and a city girl have in common?”

  “You should go talk to him and find out. You have to try. Girl, you have it worse than any person I’ve ever seen. You look like shit. You’re lucky I’m willing to be seen in public with you.” I let out a sharp bark of laughter and she just shrugs with a grin. “That’s what kind of friend I am, willing to go out into public with a zombie.” I wad up my cocktail napkin and throw it at her. She bats it away with a laugh. “But seriously, if you love him, you have to give it all you've got. Or you’re going to regret it later.”

  I stand up, throw back the last of my iced tea, and give Becca a hug. “Thank you,” I whisper in her ear. “Thank you for everything.”

  “You know it,” she says with a smile. “Now go kick some ass! Or, at least kiss some cowboys. Close enough.”

  Yeah, close enough.

  I hurry out of the Papillon, my ears thanking me for that, even as I pull my phone out and text for an Uber. It looks like there’s one close by, and I watch it on the screen impatiently. It’s already 10:30 pm. I have to get to the arena ASAP. I have to get my ass in gear.

  The Uber pulls up in front of me, and with a sigh of relief, I jump in. “Madison Square Garden,” I say, and then, I have to wait. My fingers are drumming nervously on my thigh. I’m watching the streets flash by; I’m watching the pedestrians wander down the street. How many of them are in love? How many of them have found what I have? How many of them wish they’d found what I have?

  You have to give it all you've got. Or you’re going to regret it later.

  I’d already spent the last two weeks in a world of regret. It’s about time I start making decisions that I will want to wake up to in the morning.

  Or wake up with.

  Can I move to Texas? Can I become a housewife? I wonder if there’s takeout in Texas. Surely they’ve learned the concept of delivery out there, right? I’m pretty sure they’ve figured out how a phone works. I can survive in Texas. I can survive anywhere, as long as I have Chase by my side.

  I jump out of the Uber as soon as it pulls to a stop in front of the MSG. I stare up at it and realize – the lights are dark. Everyone is gone.

  I pull my employee pass out of my pocket and slide it through a card reader, letting me through a side door and into the arena. Maybe he’s still here. Maybe he’s giving extra oats to Moonshine. Maybe he’s...

  Only the security lights are on. I stumble a couple of times in the darkness, and then I realize that tears are swimming in my vision, blinding me.

  Twice in one day. For someone who never cries, I’m starting to set personal records here.

  But...

  But no Chase?

  I stop, looking around me wildly. I can’t find him anywhere, I can’t...

  I start bawling, tears streaming down my face, inconsolable in the semi-darkness. Just me and the MSG arena. I can’t see, I can’t breathe. I can only cry.

  I’m too late.

  55

  Chase

  I’m running a curry brush over Moonshine’s sleek flanks, talking quietly to him.

  “Hey boy,” I say. “It’s time to head back home. Are you ready?” His ears flicker at my words, and I wonder again how much he understands. Does he know the word ‘home’?

  I continue brushing him, watching the flickering coat under the brush in the pale light that the security guard let me keep on. Usually, they would’ve kicked me out already, but I told the guard I needed a little more time to clean up, and after being won over by Moonshine’s personality, even feeding him a small container of oats, the guard agreed to give me as much time as I needed.

  Truthfully, I’m just stalling. I don’t want to leave. Jason has flown back to Oklahoma, his wife having heard about his latest escapades, and is rightfully pissed the fuck off. I wouldn’t be surprised if she divorces him. Jason can be a real good guy, but he can also be a jackass. I don’t envy his wife one bit. I would’ve had him castrated long ago if I were her.

  “I’d never castrate you, Moonshine,” I say, patting his flank. He nudges me, looking for more oats. Apparently, he has more important things to worry about than the production and usability of his dick.

  I wish I felt the same way.

  I’d never missed anyone the way I’ve missed Carla. The last two weeks have been hell on earth. I—

  I push Moonshine away and walk toward a sound. What is that? I can’t place it, but among the pop and buzz of fluorescent lights shutting themselves down for the night, and Moonshine’s soft nickering, begging me to come back and brush him some more, I can hear something…weird.

  I walk faster, my heart pounding in my chest. Is it…? Could it…?

  I burst out into the hallway and take off running down the corridor, the safety lights giving me a dim path to follow. That sound…it’s a girl crying. It’s...

  I make it out into the main arena, and there’s Carla, bent in half, sobbing hysterically. It tears at my heart to see her like this, but more than that, I want to pull her to me. I want to touch her. I want to be with her.

  She looks up, hearing my pounding boots, and her face drops in surprise. “Chase!” she squeals and just like those cheesy movies where they run toward each other in slow motion, Carla and I sprint toward each other. No slow-mo for me, dammit.

  I snag her and twirl her around and around, kissing her repeatedly all over her face and neck, hugging her to me. “Why are you still here?” I ask, setting her down and pulling her against me. I’m running my hands up and down her back, wanting to pull her into me, to become one with her. I never want to lose her again.

  “I came to tell you Iwolfdue,” she says, muffled by my shirt.

  I decide to let the girl breathe a little, and loosen my arms around her.

  “What?”

  “I came to tell you I love you,” she says, staring up at me, her eyes shining with tears. “I don’t want to live without you, and if I have to move to Texas and learn how to cook and put on an apron, I will. There’s takeout in Texas, right? You guys have figured out phones and the Internet and shit?”

  I start laughing. I can’t help myself.

  “Yeah, we’ve figured out phones and the Internet and shit,” I agree drily. “But Carla, you don’t want to be a housewife anymore than I want to be a CEO and wear a suit to work every day. Back in Texas, the land of cows and Internet, I have quite a few oil wells. Quite a few. I also own tens of thousands of acres of land on my ranch. I love it there, but I love it here too. When I first came, I hated all of the people on the street, everyone in my way, but there’s a certain vibe to this city that's addicting. I don’t want to leave it.”

  I draw a deep breath. “I don’t want to lose you. Baby, I’m richer than God. I don’t have to work another day in my life, but I like to work. I can’
t just sit around and count my stacks of cash. That gets boring after a while.”

  She laughs so hard, she hiccups. I’ve never seen something that adorable in my life.

  “They’re looking for a rodeo act at the Barclay Arena in Brooklyn. I know they’re the competitors for Madison, and maybe you’re not going to love being with someone who has gone to the dark side. But you’ve never seen me really in action. What you’ve seen here is Chase Lite. I can stand on the back of Moonshine while he gallops around. Did you know that?”

  She shook her head, burrowing her face against my chest. I stroke my hands down her back, loving the feel of her against me. “We actually can do quite a few tricks together. Roping calves is just something I’m good at; I happen to be pretty damn good at throwing a lasso, in case you didn’t notice.” She chuckles, the vibrations moving through my arms. I smile to myself. I want a thousand more times of making her laugh.

  I want it for the rest of my life.

  “I’ll have to go back to Texas regularly, to keep up on my work there, but I have a couple of guys who’ve been working hard for me for a long time, and would love a chance to prove themselves with a promotion. I have a private jet, so flying there and back won’t be a problem.

  “But Carla, do you want me?” Suddenly, uncertainty is plaguing me. What if she doesn’t really want me to move to New York City to be with her?

  “Want you?” She pulls back from her snuggle against my chest to stare up at me. “Chase, I want you more than anything. If I have to move to Texas to be with you, I will, but please don’t ever make me learn how to cook. I’ll do anything but that.”

  “Agreed,” I say, and kiss her with all the lust and love and passion inside of me. She’s pulling me down and kissing me back, and I realize that a two-week stint with only my hand to service me has been about two weeks too long.

  Scooping her up easily into my arms, I head toward the employee lounge. It may not be the most romantic setting in the world, but right now, I don’t care. I just want her. I need her.

  Always.

  56

  Carla

  Happiness. Just one word, but that’s the right one to describe how I’m feeling right now. We’re together now, and nothing will ever tear us apart; deep in my heart, that certainty becomes as solid as the fact that the Earth is round and circles the Sun.

  I lassoed me a cowboy, girls.

  Carrying me in his arms, he takes me to the deserted employee lounge. Laying me down on one of the wide leather couches, he climbs on top of me and crushes his mouth on mine. I kiss him eagerly, pushing my tongue inside his mouth, and surrender to the untamable happiness I’m feeling right now.

  I thought I had lost him. I thought I had ruined this. But then, the moment I saw him, his clean-shaved face like a perfect portrait… I just knew destiny wouldn’t—couldn’t—throw me a curveball like that. Chase and I are meant to be together, and I’ll be damned if that doesn’t happen.

  “I love you,” I tell him again, and then nibble at his lower lip, smiling shyly as he takes me in his embrace.

  “I know, babe, I know…” he says, smiling back at me and running his large hands down the side of my body. “I love you too,” he whispers, and my heart almost explodes with the sudden jolt of happiness that strikes him. These words on his lips seem like the perfect spell, and I become as wet as I’ve ever been before you can say twelve inches.

  He kisses me hungrily again, sliding one hand under the hemline of my dress. His fingertips go straight to my inner thighs, and then he traces the contour of my drenched thong; I can almost feel the coiled tension that fills his muscles, desire making his heart beat faster.

  Completely out of control, I take my hand to his crotch and, feeling him hard and ready, I curl my fingers around his cock and give it a squeeze. “I want this. Every day,” I say, tightening the pressure of my fingers.

  “Every day,” he repeats back to me, one hand of his pulling down the straps of my dress. He bares my black bra and, hooking one finger on the right cup, he pulls it down to reveal one hard rosy tip. I swallow hard the anticipation I’m feeling, and he dives into me as if he needed to feel my body in order to survive. I close my eyes as he wraps his lips around my hard nipple, sucking it into his mouth while he uses his tongue to circle it.

  I run my hands through his hair, disheveling it, and he uses his teeth to pull on my nipple. Gasping, I let him do it, and I start swaying my hips from side to side, trying to make him place the hand he has between my thighs on my pussy. And that’s exactly what he does; the moment I start to squirm, he makes me stop by flattening the palm of his hand against my aching pussy, pinning me down against the couch.

  “I also want this… Every day,” he says, flicking my thong to the side and brushing two fingers over my folds. I chomp on my lower lip as he does it, anxious to feel him inside of me.

  “My pussy is yours…” I tell him, thrusting against his hand. “You can have it whenever you want.”

  “Good… Because I want it right now.” With that, he slides his middle finger inside of me, taking it straight to my G-spot. Holding his fingertip there, he uses his free hand to tug on the front of my dress and pulls it down until it’s bunched up around my waist. His hand then goes to my back and, when he finds the clasp of my bra, he pulls it free; grabbing the strap right between my breasts, he pulls on it harshly and the bra comes off with a tearing sound.

  “What if… anyone comes in?” I ask him, looking around the lounge, my eyes going straight to the large double doors. With a grin, he fishes something out of his back pocket and dangles it in front of my face: a large metallic key.

  “Problem solved,” he tells me, and I just smile and press my lips on his. Pressing both my hands on his chest, I place my fingers on the collar of his shirt and then just pull on it, making all the buttons pop out. They scatter around the floor with a pop-pop sound, and I continue what I’m doing, pushing his shirt down his arms.

  I take one second to marvel at the perfect muscles in his chest, all of them so ripped and toned that Chase could be in a cover of a men’s magazine, and then I take my mouth to his nipple.

  The moment my mouth touches his skin, he starts flicking his wrist, his finger moving in and out of me at a frantic pace. He fingers me to the point of exhaustion, my fluids dripping down my thighs and pooling on the leather under me.

  “Fuck me, fuck me now,” I blurt out suddenly, needing him inside of me as much as I need the air to breathe.

  “You’re in a hurry,” he chuckles, still fingering me so hard that it’s a miracle my brain can process the meaning behind his words.

  “Yes, I am. I need your cock,” I continue, my hands darting to his belt and unbuckling it. My trembling fingers grab the hem of his pants and I pull, his zipper going down by itself in a flash. Turning my wrist around, I flatten my hand against his hard cock and then grab it, moving my hand up and down and stroking him over the fabric of his boxer briefs.

  I do it for a few seconds, but then he slides one more finger inside of me and I just stop completely, my insides burning up as a sudden wave of ecstasy crashes against both my mind and body at the same time.

  “If you need my cock that bad, I guess I gotta give it to you,” he whispers, leaning into me and dropping the words right against my ear. I moan as he slides his fingers out of my pussy, and then I grit my teeth and summon whatever strength there’s in me; moving fast, I push his pants and boxers down his legs, and he sits up on the couch afterward. He kicks off his shoes, and then steps out of his pants and boxers, standing up and towering over me in all his glorious nakedness.

  He bends over, grabbing the bunched up dress, and pulls it down my body in a hurry. He throws it on top of his clothes, and then grabs the string of thong that laces my outer thigh and pulls on it harshly, ripping it out of me.

  “Much better,” he says, his eyes going straight to the wet patch of skin between my thighs. He offers me his hand then, and when I take it he pulls me
up to my feet. Then he forces me to turn around, and I place my legs back on the couch, baring my ass to him.

  I gasp as he smacks me hard, no warning at all. He lays his hand heavily against my ass cheeks, and then he does it again and again, hard enough to leave a red mark on my skin. A perfect memento of everything we’re doing. He does it until the pain turns into pleasure, my brain melting and dissolving.

  Then, he trades the violence of his smacks by the gentleness of one finger, brushing it up and down the length of my crack. I close my eyes hard, anxious for what’s going to happen next, and that’s when he grabs his cock and pushes it down, pressing it right against my pussy. This time I don’t even wait for him to thrust; I do it myself, throwing my body back against him and impaling myself on his cock.

  One loud scream erupts from my mouth as his twelve inches stab me in a fraction of a second, pushing my inner walls back in such a way that I doubt I’ll be able to walk normally for a day or two. And that’s fine… No pain, no gain—isn’t that what men used to say?

  Grabbing my hips, he starts ramming his cock into me viciously right from the start. Forget about making love, right now we’re fucking like savages. And, really, that’s important too, you know? Sometimes, fucking is more important than making love. There’s a raw intensity to it, and it’s in that intensity that you can sometimes peel off all the bullshit and find genuine emotion. And, let me tell you, there’s a lot of genuine emotion in the way he’s fucking me right now.

  Supporting myself with only one hand, I take the other one to my pussy and start rubbing my clit with two fingers. I do it until my fingers are working at the same rhythm of his cock, and it’s a matter of seconds until I explode. Gritting my teeth, I hiss wildly as my pussy tightens up around Chase’s shaft. Feeling me even tighter, he thrusts even harder, and that’s when a violent orgasm simply explodes inside of me.