Moved

by Katrina Liss

Apart from this sneaky half hour tonight, that is.

  I swing through the door of the bar and there Jackson is. He's lounging against the bar chatting with the bar girl along with Nat and Grant. I arrive at his side eyeing him up. And yep, he’s completely gorgeous, wrapped in black jeans and tight white T to match the beautiful white smile he's blasting me with. He moves in on me quickly.

  “Hi...” I say breathlessly.

  My heart's thumping out of my chest. Mainly because I've just belted five hundred yards really fast, in high heels. It takes a lot out of a girl dodging the cracks in the uneven pavement, even a fit dancer, like me.

  But he's making my heart pump harder and the breathless part isn't going away any time soon.

  I get a good dose of his cologne...and the scent is so ethereal, I start to get high. Jackson always smells good. Like he’s just taken a dip in a bath full of Hugo Boss.

  “Kaydee... Look at you... lovelier than ever, babe...” he drawls slowly, hugging me close, and giving me a peck on the cheek. The heat's rising fast, like an oven's been switched on. “Mm mm, that's a really nice dress wearing you,” he whispers in my ear. His lips touch my ear lobe and his breath is hot against my skin. I'm swamped by a fiery flash over.

  He pulls back, pushes my wine to me with one lovely long finger, and his eyes come sweeping up to mine. They're the warmest, deep brown girl-grabbers on the planet.

  “Thanks. How are you anyway?” I ask inanely, my whole being ceasing to function. I take a quick gulp of wine to get me going again.

  “I'm good,” he replies, his eyes searching my dazed expression with a hint of amusement.

  The eyes flick down and focus on my nose. His lips break into a little grin and he lifts his finger and strokes my stud. The effect on me is electric.

  The breathless feeling has been replaced by not breathing at all.

  Round and around his finger goes. I'm tingling and boiling hot all over.

  He’s getting to know my stud very well. Better than I do.

  His lips part with a sigh as he holds the little diamond between his fingernails.

  A tinge of sublime erotic pain shoots through my newly pierced skin and my eyes half close in heated reaction.

  I'm absolutely steaming.

  “When did you get this done?” he asks quietly.

  I find my voice from somewhere far away.

  “Today. And it still hurts, so be careful.”

  “Oh, sorry. Sexy little thing, ain't it...” he says, stroking it more softly.

  I'm now imagining his tongue licking it.

  I can't help it, I moan with desire and our eyes meet.

  He knows... and so do I.

  Oh God...

  Jackson's very well built, and naturally so. He's into fitness and health. He doesn't smoke and only drinks a little. But more to the point, he's mixed race and incredibly hot looking.

  And unlike his bestie, he doesn't seem averse to my piercings or my shoulder tattoo either. He has a few of his own that I can see and that I'd love to examine at close quarters, My rose is getting a lot of attention from him at the moment. The long finger is on the move, exploring it.

  He's taller than Mason, by an inch or two, and just about the coolest, sexiest thing, I've seen on two legs.

  And if the looks weren't enough to make any woman weep with want, his voice is so deep it shoots a sub-sonic shock-wave straight through the brain.

  And he's one of 'those' types of men.

  A woman ambusher.

  The type that sweet talks, finger brushes, and eye fucks you so naturally and beautifully, that suddenly you can't remember your own name or even where you are. All you can do is stare, like a hypnotized rabbit, and gulp and sigh and smile like an absolute idiot.

  Like I'm doing now.

  I realise it's rather pathetic of me.

  I'm like Sandy. All doe eyed, and bursting into flames over Mason.

  It's impossible to ignore or do anything to stop the intense, heated attraction that's going down right now. It's been building for months, ever since we first met. We've been kept apart, deliberately, by the friend gatekeeper. And now we're like two little magnets, being drawn together.

  The only way we can avoid this moving on, is if one of us leaves the bar, and pretty soon.

  And that ain't happening.

  Up till now, we've never had much of a chance to pursue things. Just snatched minutes to chat when the bodyguard was otherwise occupied, and a quick hug hello and goodbye, here and there.

  There's one thing I know for certain. He's way more than just interested in me.

  He's no angel, I know that. He's had a few one night stands since I've known him. But unlike Mason, he has normal relationships, with normal looking women. He was with Rea for two months, although that ended a month ago.

  “We're gonna pay for this,” he says with a rueful smile.

  “For what?” I reply innocently.

  “For standing next to each other, flirting like this, and stopping on the double yellow lines. It's not allowed, is it?”

  His eyes have taken on a deeper serious look, and the smile's gone.

  I'm staring and breathing hard, my eyes locked onto his.

  “I don't care,” I whisper.

  And suddenly, we both know we've crossed over that line.

  He picks up my hand and rubs it softly, all over, like he's examining and committing it to memory. As if it's something precious. My brain goes into visual and stroked meltdown.

  “Kaydee... come with me.”

  I don't have a clue what he just said. My mind isn't working after the hand orgasm.

  My hand is still in his as he walks out of the bar and around the side alleyway. My heart is pounding like mad as he stops and pulls me to him, around the waist.

  “I've put this off for far too long. It's decision time. You or Mason,” he says as his mouth touches mine. His serious words make their way through to my fogged brain and they swirl in the hazy mist of lust.

  Like everything else about him, his kissing is off the scale. My stomach flutters wildly and my feet leave the ground.

  He groans against my mouth, which sends me somewhere so hot and fuzzy, I almost lose consciousness. He pushes me back against the wall.

  His tongue sweeps across mine, back and forth in a smooth gliding action, and I can hear myself moaning, and making strange gasping noises, that I just can't control.

  My hands slip up and around his neck and then across his head. He pulls me closer and takes a handful of my side swept hair, wrapping it around his wrist. He pulls at it and moves my head to the side.

  His mouth trails down my neck, and after that, time and the world cease to exist.

  I don't know how long we were there, or exactly what happened, but it was magical, and beyond that.

  We're brought back to reality by a tall red bus swooshing noisily past the bar, stopping a little way ahead at the bus stop. We both come up for air and gaze at each other in shock.

  “My God Kaydee... I've chosen you,” he says softly, tipping my chin up with his finger and kissing the end of my nose.

  “Yeah, I’ll go along with that, absolutely,” I reply, my chest heaving madly in reaction.

  “But let's keep it quiet, just for a few days, hmm?”

  “It's probably best,” I agree.

  A few weeks may be even better. I need to build up a lot more courage before we come out.

  He puts his arm around my shoulder and leads me inside. My eyes sweep around the bar. I'm grateful Sandy isn't here yet. It saves having to explain our entrance together.

  Nat turns his head sideways as we walk up to the bar.

  “While the cat's away, eh?” he jibes.

  “You've seen nothing and know nothing, understood?” Jackson says pointedly.

  “Sure, you know me. Discretion's my second name,” Nat replies with a snigger, returning his attention to Chloe, the mini-skirted barmaid, whilst taking a long swig from his beer bottle.


  I'm not keen on Nat. He has unkind eyes and a mean looking mouth. I'm pretty sure discretion's not his number two quality or even in the top ten.

  Jackson hands me my drink and I sip fast, trying to warm the sudden chill that has descended inside me.

  I'm having negative feelings about this now. Like I'm cheating. Cheating on Mason. Of all the men I could choose to be with, I've chosen the one he clearly has problems with me dating.

  Jackson brings me out of my reflective moment.

  He gives me a tight hug, sensing my concern.

  “Don’t worry about Mason, it'll be okay.”

  “I hope so. I don’t want us to upset him too much.”

  “He’ll have to get used to it, won’t he?”

  But I do find it strange that Jackson doesn't seem at all worried or concerned, for a guy on the brink of losing his best pal. A guy he’s hung around with since childhood. Not that I know much about that.

  I see a chance of gleaning some more insight into Mason’s behavior. “I’ve been wondering, about Mason,” I begin. “Why d'you think he's the way he is. With women, I mean? Uncommitted and obsessed with the same types?”

  “I'm no shrink, but if you want my opinion, I'd put it all down to his teenage years. His mum up and leaving that day. And the way his dad was after that. I think that kinda kicked it all off.”

  “I don't know much about thats. What about his dad––how was he exactly?”

  “Uncontrolled. Bad tempered. Binge drinking. Bringing lots of different women in the house all the time. I don't think Mase got a lot of guidance, love or attention from anyone. He used to come ‘round to ours a lot. We were a normal, boring family. I guess he needed some of that.”

  I smile inwardly at the thought of Jackson's family being anything but normal or boring.

  “You think he has a real fear of commitment because he was abandoned by his mum?”

  “Look, I really don't know. But maybe that, and witnessing the flow of women in the front door and out the back. It became the norm I expect. Perhaps the blonde thing is safe to him. His mum was dark haired, quite a stunner, slim and tall, as I recall. But after her, his dad messed around with a lot of floozies from the local pubs. Mainly blondes. They weren't particularly nice women, just something to fill the gap in his life.”

  I'm beginning to see Mason as a completely different person. A victim. Broken in some way. It hurts my heart to learn about this bad time in his life. Having been through my parents' divorce, I understand only too well. My parents' divorce had been World War Three. They'd argued over everything.

  If I hadn't felt such a mad, never before experienced, wild fever in Jackson's arms... and didn't want him so much, I might stop this thing between us developing any further.

  Because, now I know some more about Mason’s background, I don't want to hurt him. He's my friend and my cherished dance partner. And I care about him. A lot.

  But not quite enough to say no to Jackson, it would seem.

  Love, war and the end of friendship springs to mind. But I hope and pray it doesn’t come to that.

  5

  I'm having my second wine when Sandy arrives with her other friend Ella, her boyfriend Sam, and the new guys. I attach myself to her side and then rave non stop about my piercing which she politely admires. I’m trying to divert her attention away from Jackson, who's standing not that far away, eyeing me up whilst having a conversation with new guy number one.

  But Sandy's a sharp cookie and not fooled for a minute. She's intuitive with a capital I.

  “How long have you two been here together?” she asks, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

  “Well, I got here five minutes ago and I’ve been in the ladies since,” I lie. “I'm not sure when the others arrived.”

  “Yeah, right,” she says.

  Obviously I'm not a good liar. And she's sharper than a cookie, more like a sword.

  I come clean. I’m so full of excitement about what’s happened and I need to tell someone I can trust.

  “Okay, okay... I've been here a while. And guess what… me and Jackson just got very friendly outside,” I whisper in her ear.

  “I knew it. You reek of his cologne. But what you two get up to is none of my business, is it?” she huffs.

  “Sand... please don't be off with me…” I start.

  “I'm not being off.”

  “Yes, you are. “

  “Look, if you want to shag his best friend, go do it. Only please don't rub my nose in it, because I'm just about dying for Mason to shag me.”

  “Well, maybe this is your chance. If we break the friend taboo, perhaps the way is open for you to move in on him. But remember, he's not boyfriend material. Just a bit of fun.”

  She looks at me considering her enhanced prospects, her tasty booty bonus on the back end of Jackson and I, and smiles a wicked little smile.

  “Oh yes...” she says slowly, linking her arm through mine. “When are you gonna tell him? Soon I hope?”

  I swallow nervously at the thought. “Soonish. But not tonight. I want to enjoy myself before the shit hits the fan.”

  She snorts loudly and then breaks into a laugh. “I'd love to be a fly on the wall when that happens.”

  But it's not really funny.

  None of it.

  We all head off to the party, at nineish, by foot. It's a fifteen minute walk, and we follow Ella who seems to know where she's going. Jackson and I drop behind the rest of them by a few yards and he pushes me into a shop doorway for a hot kiss refresher.

  I like the way he’s careful, avoiding my piercing. It’s sweet.

  Our tongues twist together in rapture. I'm just about out of my head with desire. My legs have started to lose their ability to support me, and I reluctantly push him away with a groan.

  “We really need to get going... We don't know where this party is, do we?” I point out.

  “I'm more than going right now,” he replies with a chuckle, hugging me so tight I can barely breathe. “But you're right...” He releases me from the bear hug and takes my hand. “Come on then, before we lose them.”

  We walk quickly, catching the others up as they turn off the main road and down a side street. Then we turn right, then left, finally arriving at Wellington Place. Number 6.

  A tall, mid thirties redhead lets us in and we hit the kitchen, after struggling through the heaving throng.

  The whole party thing knocks my senses cock-a-hoop.

  It's noisy, hot, smoky, and full of people misbehaving. One way or another. The air is blue, literally, verbally and physically. The blue LED lights strung everywhere give it an unearthly feel. I'm not sure what's lurking in the thick, strange smelling, smoky atmosphere that's invading my nostrils, but I can hazard a guess. Jackson shoves a pint glass of wine in my hand. I look at the manly glass of red, unimpressed.

  “No wine glasses, sorry,” he says loudly, above the din of the techno beat, thumping though the whole house and vibrating every cell of my body.

  I take a big sip and then another. I need to get in the mood. Because suddenly, I'm not.

  Sandy and Ella are doing the sidestep shuffle together. There's not much room for anything more expressive. I put my arm around his waist and he draws me in, my face against his neck. I close my eyes and drink in the feel and smell of him. He strokes my hair and smooths my ass with his palm. I open my eyes and catch Nat watching us with an evil smirk. I give him the evils back, narrowing my eyes and frowning.

  Jackson moves away and takes my hand leading me out to the hallway, which is marginally less crowded and noisy. He turns and starts to lead me up the stairs. I tense up.

  No… what the hell is he thinking?

  I'm not going upstairs to some stranger’s bedroom. I'd need to be a lot more drunk than this to even contemplate it.

  “No way, I'm not going up there...” I protest.

  “I was planning on us resting up on the stairs for a minute, that's all. And Nate’s pissing me off, throwi
ng me daggers.”

  “Yeah, I get you,” I sigh with relief.

  He sits down and stretches his long legs out and leans sideways on his elbow. I sit down with him, although it feels more like lying down with him, actually.

  He brushes my face with his finger, running it around my lip.

  His face draws closer slowly, and his tongue traces my mouth. My eyes close as he teases me gently. His hand pulling me close, cupping my behind. I can feel every part of him, so rock hard against me.

  “This is all rather intense...” I say, reeling as pleasure floods through me.

  “You think so?” he murmurs, his lips brushing the side of my mouth.

  “You don't?” I pull back and look at him, upside and downside, pointedly. He looks intensely aroused to me.

  “I don't think we've got anywhere near the intense part yet. We're warming up nicely though.” I can't help but smile at him, matching his naughty grin. “Umm, Kaydee? I'd like to take you out for dinner tomorrow, if you're free?”

  “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  “Any preference?”

  “Expensive, but whatever,” I grin cheekily. It won’t hurt his bank balance, I know Jackson isn’t short of cash much.

  He chuckles. “Course. Don't ever do cheap seduction. That’s my motto.”

  The grin spreads across his face and his eyes crinkle up with amusement. I grab his head in my hands and move myself across him, wrapping my leg over his.

  I want to warm up some more.

  We're not participating in the party going on around us, preferring to enjoy our own private one instead. We laze on the stairs, almost oblivious to the couples traipsing up and down it, squeezing past and lurching against us, in various states of drunkenness.

  His fingertips sweep up and down my arm and across my bare shoulder. “I've wanted you for such a long time. I've been dying to touch you like this,” he says against my ear, his lips trailing a path of fire as they navigate my neck. I raise myself up and look down at him. My mouth is suddenly dry. I come to a rapid decision.

  “Shall we go?” I suggest. I don't care if I'm being too easy or fast with him. He knows I'm not that kind of girl. I need him, now, desperately. I haven't been with anyone for over a year.