Phoenix: The Beauty in Between (A Beautiful Series Companion Novel)
Page 8
I’m handed a small plastic disc attached to a safety pin which I secure to the inside of my dress before heading toward the next set of doors. Behind them, I can hear the muffled beat of loud music playing. The moment they open, the music bursts through as though trapped and desperate to break free.
Longingly, I wish I still had an E or two to help me through this, or better still, I wish I had some coke. I wouldn’t feel so nervous if I had a little help.
I make a beeline for the bar and order a vodka and orange juice. I’ve never really drank before, and I have no idea what to order. But I’m nervous and drink it so quickly that I don’t even taste it.
“Another one?” the woman behind the bar offers kindly.
Nodding, I turn my attention back toward the bar and watch her pour the drink.
“How do you even hear orders?” I ask out of curiosity. It’s something I’ve always wondered, but never been able to ask. Jeff would have killed me if I’d approached the bar at any of the clubs we used to work.
“You get good at reading lips and following eyes,” she yells over the music, handing me the drink. I go to pay, but she shakes her head. “It’s on me. You look like you need it,” she tells me with a reassuring smile.
“Thank you” I smile and sip my drink more slowly this time as I watch her moving around the bar, serving other people. Her nature surprises me. It’s unusual to come across someone who does something kind without reason.
Her tag tells me that her name is Kim. It’s hard to make out her features properly in the coloured flashing lights, but I can tell that her wavy shoulder-length hair is most likely red, and her eyes appear light, so I think they’re blue. She’s older than me. Maybe she’s someone’s mother. She has a kind and friendly face, and I find myself wishing that I was surrounded by people like her who did things to be nice instead of expecting something from me.
I watch her for a little longer, imagining what life would be like as a normal teen, with a mother who actually cared. When my drink runs dry, I snap out of my reverie.
Hovering around the bar, isn’t going to get me what I want out of this night, so I turn away and push thoughts of a different life out of my mind. Then I start scanning the room.
Feeling slightly bolstered by two drinks on an empty stomach, I move toward the dance floor, searching the crowd for eyes that are following me with interest.
My eyes land on a group of guys who look like they’re in their early twenties. They’re standing around a pylon that features a small ledge for their drinks, as they talk to each other and watch girls dancing with great interest. I go to the dance floor, positioning myself in their line of sight and start to move with the pulse of the music.
Closing my eyes, I sway my body in way I imagine would look enticing to anyone interested in me. Truthfully, I’m nervous. I’ve never purposely done this before.
It doesn’t take long before a guy moves his way along the dance floor and starts to dance near me, inching himself closer as he gauges my reaction to his advances. He isn’t one of the guys from the group that was watching me though.
I glance toward the group of guys and see one, in particular, watching me. His expression as he watches me move is dark and hungry and causes my insides to skitter about excitedly.
The gyrating guy in front of me is blond and young. Too young. I can’t imagine that he has a place of his own, but the one who is watching me seems older. He’s my best bet.
I step away from the dancer and walk toward the bar, making sure that I make strong eye contact with the one watching me and smile as I approach. I can tell that he thinks I’m heading straight for him, but I walk right by. I’m playing him.
By the time I’m at the bar, he’s standing behind me.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks close to my ear. My stomach dances about inside me as I attempt to suppress the grin that is trying to force its way to my lips. I’m trying to be cool.
I turn around and look up into his eyes while I study his face. His dark eyes are intense as they look directly into mine, his full lips curve up in a smile. My fingers itch to reach up and touch his facial hair, which is thick and dark like the hair on his head, and makes him more appealing to me.
“I’d like that,” I reply and tell him I’ll have a vodka and OJ, not wanting to mix my drinks. I’ve heard that it makes you sick and the last thing I want to do tonight is start throwing up.
“I’m Ed,” he tells me.
“P…Linda,” I say, correcting myself before saying the wrong name.
“Nice to meet you Linda.”
Ed isn’t much of a dancer, but after a few drinks and a lot of talking, I’ve learnt that he’s twenty-three and lives with a friend in Petersham. He’s perfect. Even if it’s only for tonight.
Before long, we’re in the back of the night club, with me pressed up against the wall as he works his mouth against mine. I can feel his erection pressing into me and wrap my arms around his body to pull myself closer to him.
He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against mine. “God you’re beautiful,” he comments.
Grinning, I slide my hands up into his thick hair. “Do you want to get out of here?” I ask boldly.
My heart thuds nervously against my chest as I wait for his answer.
A smile curls the side of his lips as he brings his mouth back down to mine, kissing me briefly. “Yeah. I want to get out of here. Yours or mine?”
“Yours.”
Taking my hand, he leads me past his friends and leans in to tell one of them that we’re leaving. The friend leans around him to get a look at me. His eyes drag up and down my body slowly. He gives Ed a curt nod, but keeps his eyes on me. My heart stops for a moment. He’s intense. Even more intense than Ed was when he was watching me. Although he kind of seems annoyed. I’m getting a strange vibe from him. He snatches his eyes away from me and smiles at Ed, giving him one of those congratulatory man handshakes.
I feel as though I’m being watched as Ed leads me out, but I don’t dare turn around. I need to focus on the man I’m with.
As we pass the coat check, I’m about to stop and get my jacket and bag, but realise that if he sees me with a backpack full of clothing, it’s likely that he’ll figure out exactly what I’m doing with him.
Instead, I walk straight past and hope that when I come back, everything will still be there.
Chapter Seventeen
I’m not completely naïve. I know that not every man is good in bed, and I always suspected that Jeff was the exception. But it wasn’t until last night, that I actually understood why some women complain about sex.
Ed was all over me in the cab on the ride back to his place and the moment he brought me into his apartment, we were all hot and heavy. His kissing is amazing. I at least have to give him that. He moves his tongue around my mouth harmoniously with my own and sucks gently on my lips as he comes up for air. It’s all very sensual and had me writhing under his touch, as his hands started to roam my body, and cup my breasts and buttocks.
He held me firmly against his body, so we fit snuggly together, and I was eager to get him undressed.
But, once we were naked. Everything went downhill. We lay down on the bed together, and kissed and touched some more. But when he moved his hand between my legs, his fingers entered me briefly, testing my level of wetness before he moaned a little, applied a condom and then entered me missionary style. He pumped for less than a minute before blowing with a shudder of his body and a hiss of his mouth. Then collapsed in a sweaty heap on top of me.
I optimistically ran my fingers up and down Ed’s back and gripped him with my internal muscles, hoping to bring him back to life like I had with Jeff so many times before. But when he rolled onto his back suddenly, the guttural sound of his snoring made me realise that it was all over. I was so disappointed, and for the first time since he threw me out. I missed Jeff. I missed what we had together before things turned sour.
It was incredibly hard
to sleep as I was so close to tears. Hatred was too busy boiling around inside of me. I hate what I just did. I hate my reasons behind it. I hate my life, and even more - I hate myself.
Obviously, I fell asleep at some point because as I open my eyes, light is shining around the edges of the dark curtains. I squeeze my eyes shut tight as the memory of the night before enters my mind. I feel sick.
Looking over at the still sleeping Ed, I try not to disturb him as I slide out of the bed and pick up my clothes. I want to get out of here and pretend this never happened.
He wakes as I’m wriggling into my dress.
“Hey,” he says groggily. “Hope you’re not trying to sneak out on me.”
“No, I’d never do something like that,” I laugh uneasily, even though that’s exactly what I was going to do. After last night, I’m not sure if sleeping with someone for the sake of a bed is something I can do. In the cold light of the morning, I feel dirty and cheap. I’m going to have to try to figure something else out.
“Where you going?”
“Just to the bathroom,” I lie.
“Hurry back,” he tells me smiling as he leans up on his elbow to look at me properly. He truly is very handsome, with his dark hair messed up from sleep and his features all soft for the same reason. I feel a slight affection for him and nod my head. Now that he’s caught me leaving, I kind of have to come back.
When I make it to the bathroom, I relieve myself and then check my reflection in the mirror. I wish now that I had collected my bag from the night club as the bruise on my cheek is visible since my makeup has worn off.
In an attempt to look presentable, I brush my teeth with some paste on my finger and use some wet tissue and soap to remove the smeared remnants of last night’s makeup, then rake my fingers through my hair to try to calm the wild curls.
“That’ll have to do,” I say to my reflection when I’m done, although I wish I had something to cover the bruise. It’s faded, but still noticeable.
For a while, I just stare at myself, taking in the person that I am now. I’m looking at a girl, who last night, stole someone’s name and possessions, and then gave herself freely for the sake of a bed.
Is this the kind of person I want to be? I briefly wonder if maybe I should go and find a brothel that’ll hire me. At least then I’d get paid for what I just did. But the mere thought of selling my body for actual cash seems wrong to me.
As much as I hate what I just did, I can at least reason that I was attracted to Ed. That I chose to sleep with him. I still have a small amount of power in my life. It might not be much, but it’s still there.
Leaving the bathroom, I run almost headfirst into Ed’s house mate. I recognise him immediately from the club as the guy he told we were leaving.
“Morning,” I nod as I peer up at his face. The hallway is narrow, and I need him to move so I can get past.
A frown creases his brow as his eyes move over me. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two,” I answer immediately, trying to hold his gaze steady, so he can’t see the nerves that are shooting through my body and making me sweat.
“What happened to your face?”
I smile and try to play coy. “Well that’s not what a girl wants to hear first thing in the morning.”
He lets a short laugh out of his nose and reaches up to move my hair. “Your face is bruised. What happened?”
The moment his fingers touch my skin, I suck in my breath. There’s something about the way he’s looking at me that makes me feel uneasy. It’s like he can see right through me.
“Nothing happened. Can I get past now please?” I all but whisper. He stares at me and keeps me trapped for a moment longer, then steps aside. Just enough to let me through, although I have to press against his body before I’m free.
“What’s your name?”
“Uh, it’s um… Linda,” I stammer.
“Mathew.”
Fleetingly I look at him, avoiding his eyes, and nod before making my way back to Ed’s room. As I slide inside Ed’s bedroom, I glance quickly back. Mathew is still there, watching me as he casually leans against the wall. I drop my eyes and close the door, resting my hand against it for a moment as I gather my thoughts.
“Hey you. Come over here,” Ed beckons, and I turn around to face him. He holds out his hand as I walk toward him and pulls me onto the bed, so I have to climb onto him and straddle his legs.
Immediately, I feel his arousal. He slides his hand either side of my face and pulls me toward him, touching our lips briefly before taking my mouth in his, to give me one of his luxurious kisses.
“Lie back,” I whisper. As he does as I ask, I pull my dress over my head and drop it onto the floor beside us. “Condom?”
“Side drawer.”
I pull one out and slide it over his erection. Using his tip, I glide him against my opening and then my clit, rubbing it back and forth and moaning slightly as my own arousal builds.
He’s eager and pulses his hips up, trying to slide inside me.
“Not yet,” I whisper, my voice all breathy as I continue.
Groaning, his hands travel up to cup my breasts, and he pulses up again. This time, I slide down his shaft and grip him tightly before sliding back up.
“Oh wow,” he moans, his eyes rolling back as pleasure starts to steal away his focus.
I take his hand away from my breast and guide it between my legs, showing him how to rub at my swollen nub.
“Oh yeah, right there,” I whisper as he starts to get the hang of it, he tries to slide his finger back to rub closer to my opening, but I hold on to his hand and keep him circling my clit. “Oh!” I cry out as my orgasm starts to build. It’s as if the sexual frustration from the night before is sitting just below my surface, desperate to escape.
“God!” he calls out, pushing himself firmly into me as he orgasms before me. Again.
He pulls his hands back and grips me by the hips, grinding us both together while my orgasm evaporates into the ether.
Sitting up beneath me, he brings his mouth to mine and kisses me. “Nice way to wake up,” he whispers.
“Hmmm,” I answer smiling. I climb off him and he removes his condom, shotting it into the wastepaper bin before turning toward me and pulling me into a spoon.
As he kisses me softly on my shoulder, I wonder if this is my punishment for using people. Perhaps now I would have a life without climax. I guess that would serve me right.
Chapter Eighteen
After spending most of the day in bed with Ed, still without orgasm, he drives me back to the nightclub to collect my things. He says that he’ll wait for me outside and drive me home after, but I of course, decline. There’s no home to drive me to.
I guess I hoped he’d want me to stay longer. I hoped that he wouldn’t even suggest that I go home. Perhaps I’m not as good in bed as I thought I was.
As he pulls up to the curb outside the nightclub, he leans across the console and presses his lips to mine. “I had a really great time last night… and today of course,” he grins.
I run my fingers through the thickness of his beard. “Me too Ed. Thanks for everything.” Pressing my lips against his once more, I move away and get out of the car.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait and drive you home?”
I don’t have a home. Every time he says that word it stabs at me. I bite my lip and wonder if I should tell him.
“I um…”
He sees my hesitation and shakes his head slightly. “Listen, if you don’t want to see me again, then just say so ok? I’m a big boy. I can take it.”
“No, it’s not that at all,” I attempt to explain. He gets out of the car and moves to stand in front of me.
“Linda, last night was really unusual for me. I don’t normally pick up girls and take them home on the first night.”
I look down at my feet. “That’s actually the first time I’ve ever done that as well.”
“It doesn’
t have to be one night. I feel wrong dropping you off in your clubbing clothes and then leaving you to make your way home on your own. Please let me drive you. I won’t try to come inside. But if you give me your number, I will call you to see you again next week.”
“I um…” God, just say it Paige! I yell inside my head.
“You what?” My mouth opens, and I don’t know how to say it. This is the first time I’ve actually needed to say it. Everyone else I’ve told my story to, already knew I was homeless. I’ve never had to blurt it out before. It makes me feel like I’m begging.
When I don’t respond, he takes a step back and spins his car keys around his finger and catches them with a loud clink. “Just forget it then,” he says, looking away.
“No. Ed!” I call out, grabbing his arm. “You can’t take me home.”
“Why? Why can’t I take you?”
“Because… because I don’t have one ok?!”
“You what?”
“I don’t have a home! So you can’t take me there. I’m homeless! Are you happy now?” I cry, turning away and covering my face with my hands.
He places his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I knew something was wrong. Don’t cry. Please.”
“It’s fine.” I wipe at my tears and turn back to him. “Just let me get my stuff, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Where will you go?”
“I don’t know. I’ll figure something out. I always do.”
“Don’t go off on your own Linda. Come back with me. You can spend another night, and maybe we can figure something out together?”
“Really?”
“Well, I can’t leave you knowing you have nowhere to go.”
I wrap my arms around his neck gratefully. “Thank you!” I breathe.
With his hands on my waist, he pulls away from me a little and looks into my face, his eyes lingering on the bruise. I can tell he wants to ask me what happened, but he just nods toward the club entrance and tells me he’ll wait for me while I get my stuff.
When I go inside there is a young guy manning the coat check desk. His name tag tells me he’s ‘Braden’.