RIP ME: A Dark Romance

by Naomi West

  "I don't doubt that for a second," I said. But I was now becoming distracted. Cassidy had sidled up to a man at the bar, an irritatingly handsome guy in his mid-twenties, and was flirting coquettishly. As she sat, her skirt rode even further up her thighs, and I thought I caught a glimpse of red underwear before she crossed her legs.

  "How about a dance?" I suggested to Fran.

  "What is going on with you? We haven't danced in years."

  "Then it's past time."

  "You're a lousy dancer, Archer," Fran said, shaking her head. "I hate to be the one to tell you, but you've got two left feet."

  "It never used to bother you back in the day."

  "That's because you were very good at something else, and dancing was kind of the prelude."

  "Well, then." I stood and offered her my hand. I wasn't sure what was on the jukebox, but whatever it was would do.

  "Look, I've got a bar to run," said Fran, coming close to laughing in my face. "I know it's not exactly busy, but ..." Before I could stop her, she had looked past me to the bar and a smile spread over her face. "I see. Well, that's no way to treat a girl."

  I shrugged. She had a point. "Sorry. I didn't mean to ..."

  "Use me as a way to avoid dealing with the girl with the crush?"

  "Okay, I did mean to do that."

  Fran eyed me, and I found myself struggling to tell what she was thinking.

  "What is it about her?"

  "What?"

  "I've never known you to act this way around a girl."

  "One dance?"

  Fran took my hand. "It has been too long."

  Maybe I was a lousy dancer, but I still enjoyed dancing with Fran. It got a lot less enjoyable, however, when Cassidy and her new friend joined us, dancing so close that you couldn't get a five dollar bill between them. I watched the man's hands steal optimistically towards Cassidy's backside and felt my fists tighten even as I danced with Fran.

  "I'm going to do you a favor," Fran whispered in my ear. "And maybe do us all one in the long run."

  "What?"

  "Speak to her about the book."

  "What?"

  Fran let go of me and strolled over to the other couple. "Mind if I cut in?"

  I remembered when I met Fran, that aura of sexuality she had for a man in his teens (barely even a man yet). She had lost none of it over the years, and the man with Cassidy looked like he was having the best day of his life. Still, I didn't think he'd have let go of the younger woman so readily if Cassidy hadn't instantly said, "Yeah, sure."

  She slunk over to me, hips swaying as she walked.

  "Can I have this dance?"

  I should have said no. I wanted to say no. I knew that I had to say no. But there was no way that I was going to say no.

  As if on cue, the music slowed. Cassidy's young body pressed against me, her head rested against my chest, and I inhaled the scent of her hair.

  "This is not a good idea."

  "No," she replied, not looking up. "But some things you can't fight. You can try, but they're going to happen one way or another."

  "I don't believe in that meant-to-be bullshit."

  "I didn't say meant-to-be. I just meant that when there is an attraction between two people, like there is between us, then it's like a bullet from a gun. There's no stopping it till it hits its target."

  Only now did she look up at me, those vividly green eyes staring into mine. Sure, there was a seductiveness about her, almost a calculation in how she had gotten me here, but there was a plaintiveness too, as if this was something she needed more than wanted. It was like not having it would cause her a physical wound.

  I had no idea which of us moved first. I vaguely remembered it being her, stretching up to me, but she might have been responding to an unconscious move on my part, because God knew I wanted it as badly as her. Our lips met, and the taste of her was a flood of sensation, like I'd only ever seen in black-and-white and was now seeing color for the first time. Her sweetness seemed to flow into me. She crushed her hips against mine, and I knew she was feeling my hardness firmly against her. She wanted it. She wanted to be a bad girl. I wanted to stop, for all the reasons that had seemed so clear early on. But if a girl wants to be bad, then one way or another she's going to be. And if this particular girl was going to go bad then, damn it, I wanted it to be with me.

  "Same goes as last night," Cassidy whispered hotly into my ear.

  "What?"

  Her eyes met mine again, wide and wicked. "I'll do whatever you tell me to."

  Fair enough. If she wanted to be a bad girl, then I was going to show her how to be a good one.

  Chapter Five

  Cassidy

  So, now you know. My father wouldn't have believed it, nor would Riley. Rebellious Cassidy, the girl who did everything wrong, whose boyfriends were dangerous and inappropriate, who took after her cheating mother, was still a virgin at twenty-three.

  It was stupid, when you thought about it. Riley, who stuck to the rules and did everything right, was eighteen when she lost her virginity. Of course, she was in a committed relationship with the boy, and he had prospects that went beyond stealing her rent money, but still. The good girl lost it, and the bad girl didn't. Although, of course, I'd been pretending that it was long gone, as part of my bad girl persona. It may well have contributed to the failed relationships of my past. Some boys will cheat on you, or dump you if you consistently fail to put out. They shouldn't, and the ones who do are jerks, but my boyfriends had mostly been jerks. When they learned that they might have to wait for me to be ready, then they didn't hang around.

  Why was I still a virgin when I was so intent on being a bad girl? Honestly, I was scared. It felt like leaving something behind and taking a step into a world I wasn't ready for. And the longer I left it, the more it felt like that. I dreamed about it, of course, as a sort of perfect act, something wonderful and beautiful. That put so much pressure on the first time that nothing, and no one, was ever going to measure up. It was never something I had felt comfortable with. Until now.

  Like I said, I dreamed a lot about my first time: how it would be, who it would be with, where it would be. Me being me, those dreams tended to take place in the back seat of a car, in my Dad's bed while he was downstairs, on a crowded bus—anything forbidden. A storage closet was close to being a public place and so came close to being forbidden, but nobody's fantasies, not even mine, featured the words 'storage closet.’

  With someone else, that might have mattered.

  Archer didn't look like the men who took my virginity in my dreams. He looked better.

  I hung off of his neck, urgently kissing him, as his surprisingly gentle fingers dragged my skirt up my thighs.

  "Oh, my ...!" I clapped hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying out as his fingers brushed against my most secret entrance. The explosion of sensation was unlike anything I had ever felt before. Last year, during a particularly forceful attempt,one boyfriend had grabbed me down there and squeezed, but that had just felt unpleasant. This ... there were no words. Archer's nimble fingers slipped inside my panties, and I pressed my hand more tightly against my mouth as he explored. Lightning fast shocks of pure sensation ran up and down my body, enervating me from head to toe. Then one of his fingers slipped where no man had gone before, and I thought I might pop with excitement.

  There was a man inside me. It was just his finger, but right at that moment, it was hard to believe that anything could feel better than that.

  Archer gently kissed my mouth, then he knelt, lifting my top as he went so he could kiss my belly on his way down, swirling his tongue around my belly button. I stumbled backward a step, finding something to lean against. I wasn't sure my legs would hold me much longer. To look down and see Archer there, his face mere inches from my panties, was as exciting as any part of this. He was mine. My man.

  I bit my lip as I felt his thumbs hook into the waistband of my underwear, drawing the lacy garment down my thighs a
nd leaving me on display to his heated stare. I thought I would feel embarrassed or nervous in this situation, but I felt oddly proud. I wanted him to look at and admire my nudity. Above all, I wanted to see the desire in his eyes. I wanted him to want me as badly as I needed him. Archer leaned forward.

  "MMMM!" Once again, I slapped a hand over my mouth, barely suppressing the squeal. My other hand found Archer's head, and my fingers tangled in his hair, dragging him tighter against me as his lips brushed my heated pussy. Without warning, his tongue delved further, and my world exploded into fireworks. I'd had orgasms before, or at least I thought I had, in the privacy of my room, with the help of a mail-order toy, but nothing like this.

  When I came back down to Planet Earth, I saw Archer looking up at me. "I'd say you needed that."

  "You have no idea," I gasped.

  His gentle hands traveled up the back of my legs and around the curve of my ass, drawing me back to him. "I call that level one."

  He dove back in. My hand slammed back over my mouth, and I yanked at his hair in desperate need both for him to stop and for him never to stop. I had no idea how long Archer spent on his knees, using lips, teeth, tongue, and fingers to pleasure me. I had no idea how many orgasms he gave me. But when he finally stood, I was as limp as a rag doll, my chest heaving, my body bathed in sweat, and my face flushed. This wasn't how a person was supposed to lose their virginity. You were supposed to start off slow and build your way up. Losing my virginity to Archer was like learning to drive in a racing car. And, technically, we hadn't started yet. I was still a virgin.

  I pulled him to me to kiss him, tasting myself on his lips and not even caring. He took one of my hands and guided it to the tremendous bulge in the front of his jeans. This was going to happen. This thing was going ... Well, it was going somewhere.

  A nervousness came back over me, but it was swiftly lost as Archer kissed me tenderly. His hands gently caressed my body, his touch enflaming my skin wherever it landed. The night before he had seemed so dominant, and he was, but there was another side to him as well, and I loved them both. I wanted them both.

  I squeezed hard where he had placed my hand and felt an answering throb.

  "You're not going to make me wait, are you?" I asked, all nervousness forgotten. It was time to put all that bad girl theory into practice.

  But Archer grinned wickedly at me. "Not wait, exactly, but I think you owe me a little something, don't you?"

  At first I wasn't sure what he meant, but then it dawned on me. I tried not to look flustered, for fear of letting my bad girl act slip, and I suppose I must have succeeded as Archer guided my hand once again, this time to his zipper. I started to kneel down, but he stopped me.

  "Hang on, you'll need something to kneel on. You don't want to get your knees dirty."

  He grabbed the hem of my top, and I raised my arms to allow him to pull it over my head. Archer's eyes gleamed as he revealed my breasts, and I was glad that I had chosen not to wear a bra today.

  "Damn, you're beautiful."

  "Funny how men only say that once they've got my top off." I played it cool, still acting like I did this sort of thing all the time.

  "I'm sure they think it all the time," Archer said, his eyes still glued to my chest. "But it is nice to have it underlined."

  He stooped, and I squeaked involuntarily as he gently kissed first one nipple then the other. He licked and kissed his way between the two, now and then nibbling the tender flesh, making me bite my lip and squeeze hard at the swollen organ pressing into my hand.

  Archer stood back up. "Thank you for reminding me. We were in the middle of something, weren't we?"

  He dropped my top to the floor and used his foot to spread it out, giving me something to kneel on. By now I was so powerfully aroused that I didn't hesitate. Perhaps I had never done this before, but I could learn on the job. So to speak ...

  Dropping to my knees, I found myself face to face with the enormous bulge that had dominated my thoughts ever since I first felt it. I was sure I saw it moving before my eyes, pulsing with desire. With trembling fingers, I undid Archer's belt. Every sensation seemed heightened. I was oddly aware of the texture of the leather belt between my fingers, the sound of the zip descending, the fiercely masculine scent that seemed to hit me as I opened his pants.

  I reached in through the opening and yet again found myself stifling a gasp. I might have been inexperienced, but I was not ignorant. I knew what size a man was supposed to be. But Archer ... I couldn't even get my hand around it. My eyes bulged as I drew Archer out into the light afforded by the single bulb hanging above us in the storage closet. Truth be told, it had me a bit worried. This was no longer like learning to drive in a racing car; this was like learning to drive in a Saturn Five rocket. But I had stuck to my confident, bad girl persona up till now, and I wasn't giving up on it. I looked up at Archer with what I hoped was a cocky grin.

  "Well, that ought to do the job."

  Archer shrugged. "I'm glad you approve. Now, why don't you two get better acquainted?"

  And, to my surprise, I couldn't wait. Ever since I had touched it, all my concerns and inhibitions had evaporated. Holding it in my hand it felt comforting and friendly, like a new pet. Nothing that felt that good could hurt me. I didn't want to be afraid if it. I wanted to play with it, to kiss it, to love it. I wasn't worried about my lack of experience. I could get by on instinct, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Without a qualm, I planted a big kiss on the head, making Archer chuckle.

  "You're one hell of a girl."

  "You ain't felt nothing yet."

  "I'm counting on it."

  For the next five minutes, I made good on that brag. Given what he had already done for me, I felt a certain responsibility to make him feel good, and judging by the gasps and grunts coming from above as I licked, lapped, nibbled, kissed, sucked, stroked and pumped on his healthy organ, I succeeded. And it wasn't just Archer who was enjoying himself. I had always thought that this was something men got a kick out of and women just tolerated. I had never dreamed it could be so satisfying, I had never imagined that it could taste so good, or that just the taste of that hot flesh in my mouth would give me such a ripple of pleasure.

  I could have kept going all evening, so much was I enjoying my new-found skill for oral manipulation, but then I felt Archer's hands on me, guiding me back to my feet and forcing me to reluctantly let him slip from my eager mouth.

  "Easy, girl, or this isn't going to end the way either of us want it to."

  He kissed me, and I secretly thrilled in the fact that he was so willing to do so, just as I had been earlier.

  "You really are a bit special."

  I beamed in pure happiness. My hands found their way back to his strong length, and it pulsed eagerly in my grip, desperate to continue. But Archer seemed in no immediate hurry. His hands skimmed across my body, reveling in my skin, exploring my curves as if he needed to know every inch of me intimately before he could really set about pleasuring me. Wherever his fingers traced, I felt tremors of pleasure following like the wake of a ship, as if his touch was hardwired to the pleasure centers of my brain. How much more could this man do to me? So far, he had done everything and all that remained was my virginity, now his for the taking.

  I squeezed hard at his excited organ. "Please, don't make me wait."

  He kissed me once more, his tongue slipping into my mouth and answering me in a way that words never could.

  Gently he nudged me backwards, till I was perched on a small table that sat against the wall. Instinctively, I raised a leg and placed my foot against one of the shelves opposite. My breath was now coming in short gasps as Archer maneuvered into position. Would he sense my inexperience now? Or the slight anxiety that had suddenly crept back in as I felt him pressing against my most intimate area?

  "Give it to me, baby," I urged, as much to give myself confidence as to fool Archer. I had made up my mind. This was what I wanted, this was who I wanted, and
this was how it was going to happen.

  "OH!" This time my hands were too busy clamping, white-knuckled onto the table edge to shut off my sharp cry.

  He was in me. Not all of him, not nearly all, in fact. But he was in me. I was a virgin no longer. And again, my mind exploded.

  "Did you go off already?" asked Archer, a little proud, I thought.

  Our eyes met. Whether he sensed some reticence in me, or was just responding to my tightness, I couldn't say, but Archer forced nothing. He gently pressed in, then withdrew, then a little more, then out again, forging a little further with each thrust, stretching me as he went, preparing me for what was to come.