by Felicia Fox
“I mean, I have seen you two and it is a tennis match of sexual innuendo and teasing. Even I would tune in to watch that game play out and I care little for the hetero happenings.” Ethan paused to take a drink of the vodka. “I feel bad for all of the times I’ve told you to jump on that man and ride him into next week. I wonder if he is one of those guys who wants to see if he can conquer the mountain? Looks like he broke the pickaxe on the upswing there. Hope he bleeds all the way down.”
“We have been friends for twenty of the thirty-two years I have been on this earth you should know by now how much it irritates me when you use climbing analogies as references to why people do what they do?”
“Do not be jealous because I have a hobby that doesn’t include dipping things in oil.” He paused for a moment and I had a feeling I knew what he was going to say and I had my stock answer ready to go. “Wait a minute, I have that habit, too.”
“Pervert!”
“Prude!”
That was when we busted out into booming peels of laughter until we heard Mrs. Benson from downstairs giving us the broom treatment. I tipped over with the side of my face on the ground looking up into Ethan’s glassy, alcohol saturated gaze.
I wasn’t even sure he was looking at me. I sure did see him. He was so dang pretty. He always had been and when we were just kids, I harbored the biggest crush on him. Our friendship was everything and I loved him more so than even my own family. People always say, “Blood is thicker than water” but they take that whole quote out of context. Picking and choosing that which would make their case. When in reality, the quote is, “The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.” Which essentially means the bloodshed of battle bonds is stronger than those we share familial ties to.
Love is a damn battlefield and he and I have been bloodied up enough times that our bond must be titanium by now. Each of us taking our turn putting makeshift Band-Aids over one another’s heart until we could dive back into the hell of the dating pool again.
With wavy, dark auburn hair and crystalline blue eyes surrounded by the thickest fringe of lashes, I watched as he seemed to gather himself and probably go to bed. Why do boys always get the pretty lashes? Whereas I would have to hope for a miracle and extensions. Although, I so do not have the patience to do or wait for either.
Ethan has been a personal trainer at a snooty health club for the last three years, so he had to be fit and rested or no one would want him as their trainer. It made him adamant about going to bed at a decent time. Unless he was performing a different kind of calisthenics with some young and nubile guy. Ethan wasn’t bulky, but slim and cut with lean muscle. He told me once to maintain his boyish figure, it took enough work to make it a part-time job, so he might as well be a trainer.
According to him, there is no excuse not to get some exercise in if he was already there. That and some of the finest male specimens of all kinds came in and it made it an added perk. I went in to work with him once and I was informed that I looked like a feral kitten hissing at anyone with a bulge who came near me.
“Banging that stick into the ceiling makes me think its seen more action than either of us in the last few months.”
“Actually…” he said, pausing long enough to insinuate and give me a dirty wink.
“You slut! Tell me everything!”
“I will but first, let us talk about your hair.”
“I know,” I said on a heavily burdened sigh. “I thought I saw a bird trying to fly at me with a twig like it was ready to build a nest.”
“So, you know this and yet…” Ethan waited for me to fill in the rest of that sentence with an explanation, but it was the same that it always was.
“Yet, I do nothing to help it out. It is always needing to get put up because I’m constantly at the shop. I’m pretty sure this bun is tight enough to keep my eyes open so I don’t pass out when there is work to be done.”
“You make me sad. You do nothing to enhance any of your assets. You have the prettiest bee stung, pink lips. They pout in a way that so many people pay to have. Your complexion is cream and roses and it makes me hate you a little. You are five-feet, seven inches of long legs and almost no body fat from a metabolism that lets you pound alcohol and pizza like a frat boy. Have a little more confidence in yourself and work it, all of it.”
“Stop it! You are just trying to make me feel better because I am losing my shop and made an epic fool of myself all within the span of a couple hours.”
“No, Aine. I am not that nice of a person and you know that well. You aren’t taking care of yourself. I’m not telling you to deck yourself out in diamonds and winged eyeliner. Just run a fucking brush through your damn hair. It falls to mid-back now and no one but the rats trying to build a nest in there appreciates that.”
“You’re my favorite asshole. I know of no one who can complement and insult me all in the same breath.” I paused to take another sip of the swill, I luxuriated in the burn for a moment before continuing, “You should know damn well how much work it takes just to wash this mess. It’s like I have to psych myself up just get the damn thing wet.”
“I am putting my foot down on this one. Now go take a shower and grab something of mine to wear or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and manhandle you under the spray. I would even make sure to get soap in your eye for good measure.” Taking the bottle back, Ethan uses it to vaguely gesture with it toward my shirt. “Even if with all this swill we are chugging back, I cannot ignore what looks like cum stains on the front of your shirt when I know damn well it is glaze.”
I try for distraction one more time, “So, are you going to tell me about your little encounter?”
“First of all, it wasn’t little and second, you smell. Go. Shower. I will not be swayed on this.”
“I am probably going to fall in there and you will be forced to see my nakedness when you have to come pick me up.”
“All I am hearing are excuses. More shower time and less talky time. Okay!” he cracks his stupid knuckles and gives me the squinty-eyed look, “Okay?”
“Fine!” I snarled and stumbled to my feet. Walking to his bathroom so very slowly. Just to ensure I didn’t just fall over.
Chapter 4
Vodka made me do it
Opening the shower door, I started the water and while it began to warm, I disrobed. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I scrolled through and found his name. My drunken self thought it would be a marvelous idea to call Cian. He had given me his number once, a while back, and for some reason, I decided to save it. Who am I kidding! I wanted him from the very first moment I saw him. Something about him that day made my body tense up and heat pool in the pit of my stomach. It was like a jolt of recognition and another word that made me want to pack up everything and run for the hills. Home. Which was ridiculous. I hardly knew him, but I wanted to. So very badly.
It wasn’t just his looks, although the man was fine. Especially the days he came in with that shadow on his jaw. I knew it would grow in with a reddish-blond tone and I wanted him to run that sexy stubble over some choice points on my body. Like, oh say, between my thighs.
I would always watch him out of the corner of my eye. He was kind to others. No matter if it was helping them open a door or making conversation to the people who looked especially lonely. It was never forced and always genuine. Maybe that is what I looked like to him, one of the lonely. He may just regret giving me his number now.
I pressed the call button. I stood there looking in the mirror at my naked body, but not really seeing it. Swaying from side to side, feeling the glide of my hair caress my back, the ringing of his phone acting as a beat in which to move to. On the fifth ring, I was surprised that the ringtone had suddenly stopped. He picked up the phone and I held my breath waiting to hear him say something, anything.
“Hello?” The paranoid answering of his phone made me giggle.
“Why, hello, Cian!” I had a feeling I may have been speaking at a frequency
only dogs could hear.
“Aine…?” he asked, still sounding confused and I couldn’t blame him. He had already let me know how he really felt when I threw myself at him. I must have been a glutton for more humiliation because I wanted Cian to come right out and say it.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m surprised to hear from you. Even more so that you called me while you’ve been drinking, I assume.”
“You assumed correctly.”
“Aine, are you safe where you are? Do you need me to come pick you up and take you home?” There was genuine concern in his voice and it made it easier to voice my thoughts. He had that way about him. I wanted to talk to him, to lay it all out there, but I conditioned myself for too long to suck it up.
“Nope. But I do have a question for you. What was with all of the pointless flirting if you wanted it to go nowhere?” My voice was small and a part of me wondered if he found me pathetic over this. Even I was annoyed with myself over my reaction to him.
“It wasn’t pointless and it took everything for me to walk away from you.” He said, and slightly lower, I could have sworn he mumbled, “When what I wanted to do was throw you over a table and devour you.”
“Liar.”
“No, not lying. I wasn’t going to take advantage of someone who was obviously distraught. No matter how much I wanted her.” His tone in that low bass was soothing and I was getting lost in it. It made gooseflesh pebble on my skin and the small tips of my breasts tighten. I softly grazed one of the beaded peeks with the pad of my index finger. My breath caught as an unexpected jolt moved like a current right to the core of me.
“Mmm, have I told you how delicious your voice is?” and before I could continue with whatever I was going to say, not that I knew what that would be exactly, but it was lascivious in intent, Ethan knocked on the door.
“Oh my God, Aine are you really on the phone? Please tell me you are talking to yourself.” he sounded so shocked by it that I almost laughed.
“I sure am, Ethan.” I sounded a little disgruntled. He opened the door a sliver and saw I was on the phone. Wide and wary were his dazed eyes as they met my own.
“You need to hang that up before you do any more damage,” he said while handing me a shirt and a pair of boxers through the crack he opened in the door.
“Aine, I should let you go. Get some sleep.”
“Okay, I. Okay,” I said feeling utterly defeated. Once again, I did that to myself. Honestly, I should be thanking Ethan because I was about to say something I so couldn’t take back. Like exactly what Cian’s voice did for me.
The next morning, I did the walk of shame into my shop. Thankfully, I had an extra pair of clothes in the back. I needed to change out Ethan’s dirty deeds done dirt cheap shirt before someone came in and thought it was advertising. As I thought on the idea a little harder, it may be a good thing. I squawked out a laugh to myself. Oh, this was going to be a good day.
I was in the groove, cleaning and getting ready to prep my holes. The music blaring overhead kept me at a good pace. I could almost go more than twenty minutes without thinking about some idiotic act I committed yesterday. All the while, trying to tame the headache that had set up shop. My body’s way of punishing me for cheap cherry vodka. I was just a hairsbreadth away from making a sacrifice to some ancient god to make it go away.
I kept up the cycle of thoughts and everyday business that usually came with the territory of this job. Toward the end of the day, I had made some decisions about the shop and decided I needed to stick with them. According to the bank, I had one month in here and I thought maybe closing down and selling the equipment starting next week would be the way to go.
When I looked at the time, I realized it was time to close down. For the last time. I was disappointed but relieved that Cian didn’t come in today. I don’t know if I could face him. I had made a fool of myself a couple of times now and I had no clue if I could move past it. Thankfully, I guess, I wouldn’t be seeing him soon anyway.
Chapter 5
If you think you can waltz your ass back in here…
I had begun to fill white paper bags with the remainder of the holes that did not get sold today. I planned on dropping them off at the local rec center for their support group meetings. Which was what I usually did on Tuesday nights. The door chimed one more time and I knew without looking up who it was going to be. That was my luck, though. So, what was new there. I didn’t look up and kept to the task at hand. I felt like I was being petty by not acknowledging him, but that was not the case. I wasn’t ready to look him in that gorgeous face again and feel that tightening in my chest that ached to reach out.
“Are you going to ignore me?” his voice was almost seething. A tone I had never associated with him and I don’t know why, but it made my hackles rise in response. Even though I knew he didn’t deserve my ire.
“I don’t want to, but I have to,” was my response and I tried to leave it at that, hoping he would make his own conclusion and leave. Of course, he once again did the exact opposite of what I was expecting.
“Why do you have to?”
“Because I cannot bear to make a fool of myself again.”
“Is that really how you feel?”
“Yes.”
“Well you aren’t being a fool, but you are being kind of an ass.” I was in absolute shock from this statement that I looked up into his face. He wore a scowl that made my shock turn into a sort of fury. I am not sure this was his intent, but this was what he was going to get.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” The words were clipped and it added fuel to the fire. I looked at his beautifully masculine face. His chiseled jaw was clenched tight and I wanted to nibble along the line of it up to his ear and it pissed me off even more.
Why must my libido be the enemy in all of this? My hormones panting after this man standing in front of me. He wore a white shirt that clung to his body leaving little to the imagination as well as jeans that encased him in a way that looked like they were made to hug his body. I tried to shake the thought of what it would feel like to run my hands against him.
“I am afraid I must not have heard you correctly then,” I said, and it was the only retort I had, being as distracted as I was.
“I’m positive you have excellent hearing, just a thick skull.”
“What gives you the right to think you can come into my shop and talk to me like that?”
“The right became mine when you not only misinterpreted my actions, but called me in the middle of the night and asked me point blank how I feel and still it doesn’t penetrate that. Thick. Skull.” His hands were gesticulating wildly. Like all his irritation needed more than just the outlet of his words.
“I. I. I…Mother fuck you! I don’t have to take this.” And I couldn’t. It already took everything in me to stay right where I was and not tackle him to the ground and fall naked on his dick.
“Apparently, that is your only response to anyone who has anything to say to you. Do you want to tell me why, out of nowhere, you want to call me? You have had my phone number for months. Then finally I get a call and you’re drunk and at some other guy’s place. Why did it take you to be either emotionally unstable or drunk to finally talk to me, to show me that my feelings were reciprocated?”
Feeling I had enough of his chastisement even though I knew he was right or maybe because he was right, my body took over and I finally let go. I launched myself at him. Cian caught me in his arms and we both came together, our lips crushed against each other’s. Both of us willing the other to submit. To give in. I pulled at his hair and it broke the battle. Our breathing was a harsh pant and with the short distance, I saw the searing warmth of his translucent green eyes. His lips were swollen and reddened by me and it sent a thrill from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. My legs were wrapped around his torso and I felt the distinct hardness that comes from male arousal in exactly the right spot.
We stared at each
other for a moment longer. There were questions in his eyes and I was sure that they mirrored my own. One of his hands slid to the back of my neck. The calluses softly grazing the sensitive skin as they made their journey. I shivered as he sat me down on the counter. He took that as the answer he seemed to be searching for. How could he not know for sure that I wanted him? That I have done nothing but want him for so long now.
He lowered his lips and I lifted my face that last little bit of distance. The contact was barely a graze, but I felt it like spikes of electricity surging through every limb. The pressure increasing with every pass of his lips over mine. His bottom lip was slightly out of proportion from the upper. It was plumper and I sucked on it gently, earning me a deep groan. The vibration of it against my chest made my breath catch and as I opened my mouth to regain it, he swooped in and stole it again with his tongue as he moved it skillfully against my own.
His hands were fluid, constantly moving. When they had begun to make a path down my sides with the gentlest of pressure, I moaned imagining where they would go next. When he had my hips in his hands, his grip intensified. There he held on tight, pulling my core against him. I felt the steel length of his cock and subtly began to rock myself against him. I was driving myself crazy. I wanted nothing more than to vanish the layers of clothing between my skin and his own. Every touch felt like too much and not enough.
Suddenly, he pulled away from me with what seemed like herculean-like effort. His chest rising and falling in a quickness that looked more indicative of having run a marathon.
“Cian, please. I need you.”
“Are you sure, baby?”
“Yes,” I said, practically begging him.
He picked me up once again and was pushing us through the door that lead to the back. He set me on the butcher block that stood in the middle of the kitchen. He stepped back and looked at me with a slow, seductive perusal until I could feel the hunger that left traces where his eyes wandered.
