Uninhibited (Unlikely Lovers)

by Brooks, Cheryl

  There were a couple of men in the limo Emily didn’t recognize. Was one of them Mitch, the future love of her life? Since neither of them bothered to introduce themselves, they must’ve assumed she’d met them at some point.

  Upon their arrival at the club, their essentially naked waitress laid out the ground rules.

  “You get twenty-five percent off for bringing a woman, and her drinks are free.” So much for the guys paying her expenses, unless dinner was involved. “Fifty percent off the next round if she dances on stage, seventy-five percent off if she’s topless, and free if she’s completely nude.”

  Emily swept the group with a glacial eye. “Do not bother to ask.”

  Knowing they’d have to face her at the office on Monday must’ve lowered their expectations because they all nodded their agreement.

  She passed most of the evening munching on chips and watching the men make fools of themselves, her eyes only occasionally straying to the stage. The rest of the time, between frequent trips to the restroom, she prayed that the guys would be satisfied with the twenty-five percent discount. However, as time went on and more alcohol was consumed, they got rowdier. Eventually, one of the two men she didn’t know took her hand and pulled her toward the stage.

  “No!” she yelled. “I’m not doing it.”

  “Aw, come on, Emily,” he pleaded. “Dance with me. You don’t have to strip.”

  He was a big guy, and his firm grip had her up on the stage in a matter of seconds, despite the fact that she’d dragged her heels. To her dismay, she soon discovered that while touching a stripper was against the rules, she was fair game. Spinning her around in his arms, he did his best to dance with an unwilling partner and played to the crowd like a porn star wannabe, occasionally running a hand down her hip.

  Beyond that, he never actually touched her, although he did take a few swipes at her tits. It was all for show until he wrapped his arms around the small of her back and pulled her up close to him.

  “Your name isn’t Mitch, is it?” The music was so loud she could barely hear her own voice.

  He shook his head. “It’s Reece. Having fun yet?”

  A noncommittal shrug was her only reply. Although she’d never met him before in her life, she still didn’t want to hurt his feelings. On the other hand, he wasn’t Mitch.

  “You will,” he promised. “Just wait and see.”

  “I am not taking anything off,” she reminded him.

  “You won’t have to,” he said. “Watch. This’ll drive ’em nuts.”

  With that, he slipped a hand down her back and began bunching up her skirt. As he predicted, the crowd went wild.

  “See? That’s all it takes.” Turning her away from him, he pulled her butt up against his groin. “Slide down on me.”

  When she did as he instructed, he pressed his hands on her thighs, and as she went down, her skirt went up. The guys in the audience screamed even louder than they had for the strippers.

  Have they all lost their minds?

  “Raise your arms.”

  This time, when she slid down, her sweater went up. Every man in the audience was on his feet now, and they hadn’t seen anything they couldn’t have seen at the beach.

  “Fun, huh?”

  Actually, it was—to a degree.

  He spun her around to face him. “Touch me.”

  “Where?”

  He grinned. “Anywhere. But make it look good.”

  She ran a finger down the front of his shirt and got a decent reaction from the crowd. However, that was nothing compared to what happened when she ran it down his leg. The guys screamed at her to grab his dick, and when she passed a hand lightly over that area, they howled like a pack of werewolves.

  Reece winked and leaned back with a pelvic thrust that progressed to a grind when she didn’t immediately snatch her hand away. His big, hard cock was right there beneath her palm. Giving it a squeeze, she reached down to fondle his balls. The whole club erupted in a screaming frenzy.

  Thankfully, the song ended, and the MC stepped onstage, waving his arms for a round of applause. Deafening applause.

  Returning to their table, she and Reece were cheered by the guys who were already enjoying their half-price drinks.

  Dillon was so drunk he nearly fell out of his chair when he leaned over. “Hey, Em! How’d you like his dick?”

  “Seemed okay to me.” At least it wasn’t soft.

  Nobody else tried to get her to dance until much later when the guys ganged up on the guest of honor and pushed him up on the stage along with Emily.

  Stephen seemed both embarrassed and terrified at the prospect. However, having been up there before, Emily knew she could handle it. Reece was right about it being fun. She’d kinda liked having his cock in her hand, even if his name wasn’t Mitch—or Alan, or Paul, or Ryan...

  As shy as he was, she doubted Stephen would try any funny business, no matter how many drinks he’d had. After dancing together for a while, she took the initiative and moved around behind him, running her hands down his sides. The guys near the stage started yelling, and to her surprise, Stephen actually took her hand and rubbed it over his cock. He wasn’t soft, either—more along the lines of concrete.

  Wow, that’s three hard cocks now. Perhaps the jinx was broken. Either way, she was definitely on a roll.

  Stephen pulled off his shirt, swinging it over his head with a flourish. They’d never get a seventy-five percent discount because he was topless, and she had news for him if he thought his actions would prompt her to take off her sweater.

  He loosened up even more after that, grabbing Emily from behind and pumping against her. Having seen far more risqué dance floor action elsewhere, she bent over so he could bounce even harder. The audience went ballistic as Stephen let go of her, and by the time she’d turned around to see what all the screams were about, he was skimming off his slacks and kicking off his shoes. She’d never seen a cock like that before in her life. Thick, long, beet red, and dripping, it bounced up and down and around in circles when he rotated his hips.

  All she could do was stare while the crowd stomped and chanted, screaming at him to fuck her. With a funny little grin, he motioned for her to come closer.

  She shook her head. “I’m not anywhere near drunk enough for that.” Not drunk at all, actually.

  He obviously was, although it clearly hadn’t affected his performance. Dancing over to her, he took her hands, dragging her up against him before placing her hands on his butt. Closing his eyes, he ground his cock into the front of her skirt.

  “Get down on your knees,” he said in her ear. “Act like you’re licking my dick.”

  “No way!”

  “Come on, Em, let me jack off in front of all these guys. They’ll like it because I’ll come in your face, and I’ll like it because they’re watching me do it.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”

  “I like showing my dick to these guys.”

  “Oh, don’t tell me, you’re—?”

  “Gay,” he said with a nod. “Please, Emily, it’s my birthday. Let me get my rocks off in front of all these straights. I’ll shoot right past you if you want. We just have to make it look good.”

  Here was the biggest, hardest cock she’d ever seen in her life, and it was because of the men in the audience rather than her or the strippers. She would’ve cried if she hadn’t been laughing so hard. Never having heard so much as a whisper that Stephen might be gay, she could only assume that the rest of the gang hadn’t heard anything either—unless they were trying to convert him.

  What a hoot. Still laughing, she leaned down and took a swipe at him with her tongue. The crowd went wild.

  Massaging his balls with one hand, he thrust his dick between his clenched fingers, his hand slick with cock syrup as he pumped hard and fast on the shaft. Emily watched, fascinated by that big, hard head slipping in and out of his hand—so much so that when it went off, she was
looking straight down the barrel. His first shot hit her across the upper lip, the second and third grazed her cheekbone.

  Needless to say, the strippers couldn’t possibly top that, so, after a thunderous round of applause, they all piled into the limo and headed for home. The guys were pretty boisterous at first, teasing Emily and Stephen without mercy, but they quieted down after a bit. Dillon actually fell asleep on Stephen’s shoulder. Although Reece insisted that she ride home in his lap, his dick was much softer than before—perhaps he liked having an audience too.

  When they dropped her off at her door, she exchanged a conspiratorial wink with Stephen. Although he might come out eventually, she would certainly never tell anyone. As private jokes went, this one was much too good to give away.

  His secret was safe with her.

  * * * *

  Alan did the only thing he could think to do on a Friday night. He went to Bennie’s for ice cream, nearly having a heart attack when he spotted a woman who might’ve been the one he was looking for, then running across the parking lot only to feel like an absolute idiot when she turned around.

  False alarm.

  He went back to his car to wait. The minutes ticked by as he sat there, wishing he’d had sense enough to follow her home that night. Like a stalker.

  Yeah. That would’ve gone over real well, dumbass.

  “Another other Saturday night, and I ain’t got nobody,” he sang. “I got some money ’cause I just got paid. How I wish I had someone to talk to. I’m in an awful way.”

  Being tone deaf didn’t matter when you were alone in your car. He’d played that old Cat Stevens song so many times the night before, his neighbor had come to check on him, thinking he’d put the song on repeat and then passed out or died.

  Nice kid.

  Why did he think he’d find her at Bennie’s? She wasn’t an ice cream addict like him—even admitted she’d never been there before. If she wanted him, she could call him, and she hadn’t.

  At ten-thirty, he went in and bought a double chocolate mocha caramel shake with chocolate chips, pecans, and whipped cream, nursing it until they closed the doors at eleven.

  The next morning he went in early to open the grocery, even though he was supposed to be off that day. Nobody seemed to notice. They were used to his bizarre behavior by now, and there was always something to do—stocking, cleaning, reviewing the orders, sprinkling the produce. He was straightening the magazines when Jason finally told him to stop.

  “You’re weirding me out, man. Go home.”

  “I will. In a minute.”

  “No, I mean it. Go home. What’s eatin’ you anyway? Woman trouble?”

  The accompanying chortle made Alan want to punch him. “No. You got man trouble?”

  Jason grinned, revealing his crooked teeth. Homely as sin, he had a creepy tattoo on the side of his neck. “Nope. Me and my man are doing just fine.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Figures. Even ugly gay guys saw more action than he did.

  No, that wasn’t true. Alan had been celibate by choice. He could’ve found a woman and gotten laid if that was all he wanted.

  But it wasn’t.

  He wanted her.

  Telling himself it was stupid to care so much about a woman he barely knew didn’t help at all.

  “Go home and get some sleep. You look like hell—kinda like you were last Christmas. Thought you were gonna lose it then.”

  “Thanks, Jason. That makes me feel so much better.”

  “The holidays don’t last forever. Everything will be back to normal in a couple of weeks.”

  “Sure, they will.”

  Not likely.

  * * * *

  Keeping Stephen’s little secret wasn’t easy—not with everyone expecting them to start dating. By mid-week, Emily was getting sick of the innuendo.

  “You’d better come out soon,” she told him. “You’re making me look bad, and people are losing bets.”

  He winced. “Yeah, I know. Sorry I’m such a chicken.”

  “You weren’t acting like a chicken on your birthday. Don’t you have a boyfriend picked out? Someone to stand by you when you make the announcement?”

  If anything, this suggestion seemed to make him even more miserable. “No. That’s part of the problem.”

  “I bet if you told everyone the truth, guys would start coming out of the woodwork.”

  “You think?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Stephen. Sweetheart. I saw your dick up close and personal. Trust me on this one. You won’t be lonely for long.”

  He didn’t seem convinced, giving her an uncertain look and a shrug before returning to his desk. However, as he took his seat, a sheepish smile stole across his lips, broadening to a full grin when she winked at him.

  He was so adorable. For him, love was surely waiting just around the corner. Hopefully, he would recognize the opportunity when it knocked.

  Unlike me.

  * * * *

  “No way am I doing this without you,” Emily declared. “If you don’t show up, I’ll disown you as my brother.”

  When Todd heard about the change of venue for the family gathering, he was all for waiting until their parents returned from their vacation, hinting that he had better ideas for how to spend the evening.

  “Staci invited me to her house,” he said. “If you were me, which would you rather do, hang out with your girlfriend or listen to Janice and Ned sniping at each other?”

  That was a no brainer, especially when all Emily really wanted to do was find Alan and discover just how long it would take to wear him out. She’d tried searching the Net and came up with a couple of possibilities, but nothing definite. “Point made. I’d still like you to be there at least part of the time, though. Could you do that for me? Please?”

  “Sure. I can do that—but not for long.”

  She thanked him, happy that she didn’t have to stay all evening herself. Janice wouldn’t believe it if she complained of a headache again. On the other hand, a stomach virus was the perfect excuse for skipping out on a big dinner.

  Since she’d neglected to buy gifts for her parents, Emily went out each evening ostensibly shopping for them, only to catch herself searching for the perfect gift for Alan instead. She never bought anything—she simply looked. Finding a present for him was certainly easier than buying for Mitch. Chocolate candy was everywhere. Leather jackets drew her eye, whether they were on a man or a hanger. The sound of Christmas carols being sung slightly off key snagged her attention, and every scruffy-looking male made her itch to pull him into her arms and kiss him.

  Taking herself to task for an opportunity missed was behind her now, although she still felt the pang of regret whenever she thought about him—which was fairly often now that shopping for him had become something of a habit. However, it wasn’t until she caught herself sitting at the food court studying each of the passersby that she realized she wasn’t hunting for gifts. She was searching for him.

  Her efforts became more systematic after that, even though they were probably futile. Pemberton, Indiana wasn’t a huge city, but it contained an astonishing number of stores. She went to as many as she could each evening and often drove by the ice cream parlor.

  She never saw him.

  Even at the office, his memory taunted her. Whenever her phone rang, her heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t possibly know where she worked—would never have known where to call—unless he knew which office building someone named Mitch cleaned at night.

  On Thursday night, she went to the office Christmas party. Mitch must’ve found his gift under the tree, but she didn’t get to meet him. Someone named Sharon had obviously known how much Emily needed a scarf and gloves to keep her warm during her nightly vigils—but she didn’t know her any better than she knew Mitch.

  The following day was sunny and slightly warmer—perhaps even balmy enough that Alan might want ice cream. After dinner, she stuffed her new gloves into the pockets of her jacket and head
ed over there.

  One more time.

  She didn’t have to wait long before deciding it wasn’t so balmy after all. The sun’s warmth was soon gone and frost formed on the windows of her car. Shivering, she snuggled deeper into her jacket and reached for the gloves, wishing she’d brought along the scarf. Her gaze never left the shop as she pulled them on, watching as families, couples, and groups of laughing girls came and went.

  Her heart took a plunge when the clerk locked the door behind the last customer. The sign at the bank across the street blinked eleven-ten. The temperature, which she’d tried not to notice, read twenty-six.

  Another wasted evening.

  Chilled to the bone, she fumbled for her keys, only to have them fall from her numb fingers and disappear between the passenger seat and the console. Giving the shop one last lingering glance, she leaned over to retrieve them.

  Alan’s phone number and email address glared up at her from the napkin lying on the floor mat.

  Chapter 6

  Emily stared at the napkin, unblinking, half believing something so miraculous would disappear if she moved a muscle. A moment later, she began breathing again and reached for it.

  Her fingers grasped the edge, feeling the smooth texture. She could even read the numbers, though he’d written them in haste. Would Alan have changed his mind by now? At least ten days had passed since then, perhaps as much as two weeks. For her, that time had seemed like an eternity. Maybe he felt the same way, unless he’d already moved on. She should have done the same, rather than put so much stock in things said to her by a crazy man.

  Two weeks was right. She’d seen Janice on a Friday night and had gone shopping the next day, which was a Saturday. Stephen’s birthday party was the following Friday, and now it was Friday again, the day after the office party.

  Two whole weeks out of a lifetime. Anything could have happened to him. He could’ve met the love of his life after that evening he’d spent with her. Sure, he’d seemed sincere at the time, but he’d had two weeks to change his mind about pursuing a relationship with a depressed woman whose hair smelled nice.

  It was late. The bank clock now said eleven-fifteen. Even if Emily drove straight home, it would be midnight by the time she worked up the nerve to call him. He might be angry if she woke him, especially if he was with someone else—some other woman who’d been delighted to meet a man who wanted sex six or seven times a day.