“You’re suddenly agreeable,” he said.
“Only for the next two hours.”
“So you only want me here for the movie.” His crotch nestled tight against my backside, making my hormones come alive with a sudden, all encompassing strength. The heat of Nigel’s body enveloped me even as he drew one leg up so he could rest an elbow on his knee. Being so close to this man, feeling his every inhalation made me heady. Desire flowed through my veins like liquid fire. It was potent in its force and it swept through me with an intensity that left me stunned.
“Are you comfortable?” When he spoke his lips tickled my earlobe, but there was nothing about his touch that made me want to laugh.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
He worked his hips, moving his crotch against me until he found a comfortable position. “Can I have a sip of your beer?”
Still reeling, I swallowed down a moan and forced myself to focus on the TV screen. “Get your own.”
“Come on Stella, be a sport. You want me to stay don’t you? I could sit somewhere else.”
I muttered to myself, and then took a long swallow from the bottle. The bubbly liquid glided down my throat and I hoped the ice-cold brew would put out the fire raging inside of me. As I passed it back to him I asked, “You’re not going to talk through the movie are you?”
I felt his chest expand and contract as he drank and tried to remind myself that I wasn’t in the least interested in this man. He was a means to an end, a way to get through the movie, nothing more.
“I never talk during movies,” he said.
Then he surprised the crap out of me by proving his word.
Ten minutes in, I began to wish he would talk. I wished he’d do something to distract me from what was happening on screen. Seeing the first victim after she’d been literally scared to death had frightened me so bad that I’d flinched away from the television and bitten my tongue. I wondered briefly if it was possible to be scared to death from watching a movie.
I watched the ongoing story, gradually becoming more and more uncomfortable with what I was seeing. Everything, from the filming style of the director to the eerie, we’re going to leave this to your imagination, quality of the film was disturbing on many levels. The villain, the aforementioned little girl, was pure evil. Only thing was she wasn’t possessed by demons, she was simply bad. Oh, and the fact that she had supernatural powers didn’t help.
An hour in I realized, much to my chagrin, that this movie was scaring the crap out of me.
When the heroine fell into the well I clutched Nigel’s knee, digging my nails in until he yelped in pain and had to physically remove them from his person.
As the movie progressed, I found myself easing closer and closer to Nigel. I suppose I was seeking solace in his large body, comfort in the feel of him, but I was too far-gone to analyze my motives. When he wrapped his arms around me and held me in an embrace I didn’t complain.
“You ‘fraidy cat,” he accused in my ear.
“You’re not scared?”
“Don’t worry, Stella. I won’t let the boogey girl get you. I could spend the night.”
I turned and glanced up at him. “You wish.”
“You know you want me to.”
“I don’t.”
Eyes level with mine; he spread his lips into a moist, delectable O, and then licked. “I can feel your heart, Stella. It’s beating a mile a minute.”
What was with this lip-licking thing anyway? Could he tell what the sight of his tongue did to me?
I stared at him a moment longer, then focused on his shoulder. “That’s not you. That’s the movie.”
His thighs flexed as he rolled his hips. Instantly I felt the press of something hard nudging my butt. “Oh!” I said, a little panicked by the sheer size of what I was feeling. Quickly, I twisted back toward the television and tried not to think about Nigel’s huge cock.
“I could make you feel so good, Stella.” He flexed again, nudging the turgid length of his prick into the back of my pants. “Let me stay over. You won’t regret it.”
I didn’t respond. It was difficult, but I tried to block out his voice. If I could focus on the movie, eventually I wouldn’t be so turned on. The key was figuring out a way to focus.
When I felt fingers on my scalp, felt the strands of my hair being pulled taut; I realized Nigel wasn’t willing to allow me to focus on anything but him. He drew me back until my head was resting against his shoulder. “Is that a no?” he asked.
“Yes it is.”
He opened his mouth, and then pressed it against mine.
My face grew hot when our lips touched. A low moan rose from the back of my throat and I squirmed against him. He’d given me a glimmer of a taste earlier, but not nearly enough to sate me. Though I wasn’t willing to admit it to myself at the time, I’d wanted more. Much more. And as we sat on the armchair in the darkened room, a horror movie on the television, Nigel was ready, willing, and able to give it to me.
Our tongues touched furtively at first, tasting before plundering. He nibbled my lips even as I pressed my breasts eagerly into his forearm. My mouth opened for him, my body welcoming him into the warm within.
With a primal, male groan, he delved deep.
Our mouths meshed as what had begun as a mild tasting quickly escalated into a rapacious feast. We kissed hungrily, our tongues gliding over the other. Before I thought about what I was doing, I clutched the back of his head and drew him closer.
Our bodies rocked in time with one another. I panted into his mouth, breathed in as he exhaled and lost myself in his taste. He was of beer and rum, and strawberry cheesecake. The combination of those flavors had never been so stimulating.
Slowly, he pulled back, gazing down at me with lust-glazed eyes. “You’ve a wonderful mouth,” he advised.
“So do you.”
“Let me stay the night with you.”
I shook my head. I’d been about to say that it wouldn’t work, when Ann began swearing.
“Oh shit! Oh shit!”
“Get the fuck out of there,” someone else was screaming at the top of her lungs. It sounded like Meagan but I couldn’t be sure.
“I can’t look. Jim, don’t let me look.”
I turned from Nigel, glanced at my friends—all of them were in varying degrees of terror—then took in what was happening on the screen.
“Oh shit!” I brought my legs off the floor and huddled closer to Nigel. “Run! Do something!”
“Don’t fall!” Peter yelled at the television.
Nigel’s arms closed around my writhing body and held me close. I could feel his chest rumble as he laughed. “Calm down. It’s just a movie.”
“She’s coming out! She’s coming out!” Katarina shrieked, alternately covering her eyes and peeking through her fingers.
“Get up! Get up! Run!”
I finished on a scream
I didn’t sleep alone that night, or with Nigel.
Though I knew Gerard would never let me live it down, I slept with him and Ann.
Chapter Six
4/12/05, 11:27 a.m.
I sat on a blanket in the sand, staring up at the clear blue sky and breathing in the fresh air. The salad we’d brought out had looked good, but tasted even better. Every bite of chicken had been grilled to perfection. Even the tomatoes were ripe with flavor. The food tasted good, and the meal was perfect. The day was perfect.
Gerard, Jim, and Peter were splashing around in the water, jumping waves while the girls and me sat and talked.
“So Stella,” Meagan began, catching my eye. “You seem happy.” She grinned like a loon, obviously pleased with herself.
“I am,” I said.
“You like Nigel?”
“He’s okay.”
Ann snorted. “Don’t think we didn’t see you two doing the tongue tangle last night.”
Katarina slid her sunglasses on and shook her head. “Vulgar,” she declared.
“I could have said swap
ping spit.”
“Yuck.” Katarina turned toward me. “But you were kissing him. What’s up?”
I didn’t know what was up. Bet aside, I clearly couldn’t sleep with Nigel, not when I was already dating two men. How would that look?
“You gonna give it up or what?” Meagan wanted to know.
“No, I’m not. A few kisses don’t mean anything.”
“Oh get real. You were all over him.”
“Yeah,” Katarina added. “And what was going on in the kitchen before we got there?”
“What the hell,” I said, deciding to come clean. “If I can’t tell the three of you who can I tell? Yeah, I like him. Happy now? But we sort of made a bet so I can’t sleep with him.”
Ann, who’d been watching Gerard as he tumbled onto his butt, turned to face me. “What kind of bet?”
“I bet that I wouldn’t sleep with him, and he bet that I would. If I win I get a hundred bottles of Coke Lime, if he wins I admit how irresistible he is.”
I had Ann’s full attention now. “A hundred bottles of Coke? You couldn’t think of anything better than that?”
I didn’t bother responding to this query directly. “That’s not the point. The point is that I’m not having sex with him.”
Meagan looked doubtful. “We have five more days, Stella. Do you really think you can control yourself that long?”
“What about Peter?” I asked, changing the subject. “Do you have everything you need for the big night?”
I fat curl fell over Meagan’s face and she shoved it aside. “Yep. Now I just need to keep my courage up.”
Katarina stretched like a cat as she reclined on her blanket. “It’ll be all right. Peter’s a great guy. He’d be crazy not to want an exclusive relationship with you.”
Meagan nodded. “Let’s hope you’re right.”
“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Ann asked.
“All I want to do is relax. Let the guys play in the water all day if they want.” Meagan tilted her head to look at me. “What’s up with Nigel?”
At the mention of his name, I grinned like an idiot.
So I liked the guy. Big deal. So sue me.
“He’s busy,” I said. “He said he’d be tied up for a few days.”
“What’s he doing?”
“He’s in New York on business. But he promised that when he gets back he’d take us to his favorite restaurant.”
4/14/05, 8:27 p.m.
Wealthy real estate tycoon, Nigel Browning, took us to his favorite restaurant, which in reality wasn’t so much a restaurant as it was a karaoke bar. A very popular, very crowded karaoke bar.
This wasn’t exactly what I’d been expecting. In truth I’d been hoping for candles, wine, and ambiance, not artificial light, draft beer, and close to a hundred obnoxious co-diners. The last two days had dragged on without Nigel. I’d been so happy to see him at our front door tonight that I’d been tempted to see if he’d agree to ditching my friends so I could be alone with him. But when I saw how excited everyone was to go to Nigel’s favorite local spot I didn’t have the heart to complain.
Every table in the restaurant was full to capacity with boisterous patrons, each of whom had obviously imbibed a considerable amount of alcohol. An enormous disco light hung over the stage sending shards of sparkly light over the entire room. The overall feel of the place was celebratory, and though I didn’t go to karaoke bars as a rule, I couldn’t help but be influenced by the jovial atmosphere.
Nigel had called ahead to let the owner know he’d be coming with seven of his friends. As a result, we’d been given a choice table by the stage.
By eight o’clock we were crowded around a songbook writing song selections on strips of paper. Jim was sitting at my right, with Katarina settled on his lap. Ann and Gerard were across the table next to Meagan and Peter. And Nigel was at my left, smelling entirely too good. He was wearing jeans, a loose, white, button up shirt, and leather sandals. I couldn’t say what it was exactly, but there was something about a man’s foot that did things to me. The slender toes and the delicate skin in between that were so sensitive a simple stroke could bring a man to his knees.
“I love karaoke,” Meagan was saying. “Great idea, Nigel.”
Nigel, who’d been chewing a rather large bite of a bacon cheeseburger, nodded. “Nothing brings out the latent rock star better in us all.”
“Are you gonna sing something?” Katarina wanted to know.
“I may at that.”
Unwilling to show any sign of how happy I was to see him, I curled my lip. “Was there ever any doubt?”
I felt his intense blue eyes on me but refused to turn to look at him. “You’re a cheeky chit aren’t you?” he said, giving me a squeeze.
“A what?”
“Have I gone from horror movie savior to scum so quickly?”
“Do you really need to ask?”
Meagan gave me a kick under the table that was hard enough for me to yelp in surprise. “I think you need another drink, Stella,” she advised. “All you’ve had is Coke all night.”
Frowning, I shook my head. The drink selection at that particular establishment sucked royally. I hated drinking draft beer. And I didn’t do the mixed drink thing. Mixed drinks and I didn’t mix. At all. I learned from one too many embarrassing experiences to stay away from liquor.
Nigel scooted his chair closer to mine. “Afraid you’ll lose control?”
Ann, who was working on her second White Russian of the night, motioned our waitress over. “Screw your rules for one night Stella. Meagan’s right. We’re here to have fun.”
“This is a vacation,” Katarina added. “Have a drink with us.”
“And you know,” Ann continued, “If Katarina says you need to loosen up, the situation has gone critical.”
Maybe they were right. This was a vacation. I was there to have fun. One itsy bitsy little drink couldn’t hurt. Especially not when I had all of my friends around me.
Excited by the prospect of allowing myself a small buzz, I let myself get into the spirit of things. “What should I have?”
Gerard, who’d been listening to this exchange with interest, offered his input. “Ann’s drinking a White Russian. You’d like that.”
“What’s in it?”
“Vodka, Kahlua, and cream.”
“Ick! Cream and vodka? That sounds disgusting.”
“Have a Black Russian then. It’s the same thing but without the cream.”
“If I order one,” I began, noting that Gerard was telling the waitress to bring one as I spoke, “You have to promise me you won’t let me drink too much. The last time I drank hard liquor I ended up making a fool of myself.”
Meagan grinned. Instantly I knew she was having a flashback of the horrid event in question. “We’ll watch you like eagles.”
“We’ll let you have two Black Russians, tops,” Katarina agreed.
“No way do you get more than that,” said Ann. “No way.” She fisted her hand and brought it down on the table.
Relenting, I nodded. “All right then,” I said as the waitress set a plastic cup filled with dark liquid before me. “As long as I’m able to maintain my decorum I’ll have a drink.”
10:31 p.m.
“Ho!” I yelled, ripping my jacket open, Michael Jackson style, and then thrusting my fist into the air. Feeling damn good, I sashayed across the stage, mic in hand, interspersing the sexy strut with my best MC Hammer moves. Beside me, Katarina was “doing the butt” as though her life depended on it while Ann and Meagan informed the audience at considerable volume that they “can’t touch this”. When it came time to “break it down” we’d already learned the hard way that to avoid doing serious damage to each other we had to spread out on the stage. Who knew break dancing could be so dangerous?
A few of our fellow diners were on their feet, cheering us on, chanting, “Go! Go! Go!” which only served to make us dance harder. All the while, somewhere in the back of m
y mind I knew I should stop, knew that I was doing precisely what I’d schooled myself against doing. Making a fool of myself. But I couldn’t stop. I was having too much fun. Even the sight of Nigel grinning at me from our table wasn’t enough to make me stop. I knew I’d regret my recklessness tomorrow, but for now, I was gonna let off some steam.
We left the stage to a series of cheers and a few standing ovations. Katarina paused at the edge of the platform to curtsy before hopping down and following us to the table.
“That was fucking awesome,” Gerard announced in near hysterical laughter as we approached. His gaze was frozen on Ann. “I didn’t know you had rhythm Katarina,” he added, still intent on Ann. When she was close enough, he hooked an arm around her waist, growled, and pulled her onto his lap. “Wait till we get home,” he said rather loudly into her ear.
Obviously feeling full of herself, Katarina thrust herself at Jim; landing on his lap so hard he gave an audible oomph. “Did you like us?” she demanded drunkenly.
Jim lifted Katarina so he could reposition himself “I like you now,” he said, setting her down on his crotch. She squirmed; a move that made him cross his eyes and wheeze.
Ever the gentleman, Peter was on his feet and ready to help Meagan as she staggered into her chair. “I didn’t know you could rap, Meagan.”
Meagan giggled like a wino.
I made a path toward my seat, feeling a little sad that Jake and Dev weren’t there to tell me how good I’d done and feeling too drunk to dwell on the thought for very long.
Already on his feet and making his way to the stage, Nigel gave my arm a squeeze. “That was enlightening, Stella. Just when I think I’ve got you figured out you surprise the hell out of me.”
I whirled, stumbled, and then watched his retreating form. Then I watched his ass as he mounted the single step onto the stage.
He looked amazing up there with the bright lights spotlighting him. I heard a few feminine moans of appreciation and couldn’t help but agree. Nigel was one sexy man.
As various lascivious thoughts flittered through my mind, Gerard nabbed the edge of my jacket and hauled me toward the table. Then, despite the fact that it was completely unnecessary, he led me to my seat, refusing to leave me alone until I’d settled on it and promised not to move.
THE CHRONICLES OF STELLA RICE: APRIL Page 5
