by JA Huss
“Still a gas guzzler.”
“Sorry, I’m never getting a Prius.”
“You could get a Tesla.”
He laughs. “I guess I could.”
“So… if you show up in a Tesla, I’ll wear a dress, take off my panties, and get in your car.”
I drop him. And smile.
Take that, you sexy, hot, tattooed drummer with amazing deflowering skills.
My phone dings a text. It says one word.
Done.
So… it turns out that guys who take Photoshop certification classes during spring break are all old geeks. I’m the only girl in the whole class, which is so disappointing, but also makes me the center of attention. Especially since I’m wearing one of April’s dresses. It’s tame, for her. But for me it’s kinda flashy.
She wore it to church last Easter and never put it on again. But her idea of a church dress is unique. So it’s a short peach dress with a flirty chiffon skirt, with a bazillion pearls on the sewn-on belt. The front has a scoop neck and there’s pretty cap sleeves, but the back is too low to wear a bra, so…
I wear the panties to school, but not the bra.
I’m pretty sure every single old geek can tell, too.
And it’s just a little bit windy standing out in front of the main entrance, so when Ryker pulls up—wearing dark sunglasses, a white button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos, and a pair of gray slacks, all inside a smokin’ hot freaking Tesla!—I feel a little bit like Marilyn Monroe standing over that gust of air coming up from a street vent. Except in peach.
He idles. Waiting for me to walk over to the car.
I open the door, slide in and gape at this beautiful monster. Both of them. Him and the car.
“Nice, right?” he says. “It’s next year’s prototype. And full disclosure, it’s not mine. I had to cash in a major favor to pick you up in this.”
I try to hide my smile but I can’t. Not even behind my hand, because I’m giggling.
“That’s funny, huh?”
“Well,” I say, straightening my skirt, then flipping it up to flash him a quick look. “Your reward awaits.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, pulling away from the curb. “All the rewards belong to you, Aria. You hungry?”
“I can’t go into a restaurant without panties.”
“How else am I going to play with your pussy in public?”
“What?”
“You heard me. I’m quite annoyed at being dismissed last night after I took such good care of you.”
“Did you go to the doctor?” I ask.
He side-eyes me. “Yes. Results in a few days. But I’m clean. I promise. Besides,” he says, lifting up the center console. “I brought these.”
I peek inside and laugh again. Condoms. “You’re the one who said one-night stand, Ryker.”
“Yeah, but we bonded, right? I deflowered you.” Then he looks over at me and smiles. Winking behind his glasses. I can tell because his cheek lifts up a little.
“You wanted to stay over?” I ask.
“Maybe. But forget it now. I got your rules down. Fuck you hard and leave you immediately.”
I sit back in my seat and smile, enjoying the sunshine on my face as we drive around. “So where are you going to do these nasty things to me?”
“The Corinthian Hotel.”
“Stop it. We’re not playing these games there.”
“Why not?”
“It’s classy.”
“You in that dress with no underwear is classy.”
“So classy.” I giggle again. And it’s weird. Because I don’t know him. Like at all. But I feel like I do. I feel like we’re known each other forever and this is just one of hundreds of times we’ve been out together.
But we do go to the hotel. He pulls up in the valet and then someone’s opening my door, and I have to be very careful not to flash anyone because seriously, this skirt is too flirty to not wear underwear. But then Ryker is there, looking like a hot drummer, and he takes my hand and leads me inside to the restaurant.
They serve tea in the lobby seating area, and I’ve had tea here with my parents quite a few times, but I’ve never been to the restaurant.
“North,” he tells the maître d’, holding up two fingers.
Those two fingers were inside me last night.
“This way, Mr. North,” the maître d’ says.
We follow him into a dark corner half-circle booth with low lighting and I scoot in, all the way into the far corner, and Ryker scoots in right beside me, putting his arm around my shoulder.
Well, I will say one thing. None of the boys in high school could ever pull this date off, that’s for sure.
Ryker takes his sunglasses off and sets them on the table, then turns towards me a little and says, “Meet any cute boys at school?”
“No,” I say.
“Mmmm-hmm,” he says, picking up his menu. “Called that one.”
“You didn’t call anything,” I say, picking up my menu.
But he grabs it from me and says, “I’m ordering for you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I guess I’ll learn fast then.” And he winks again.
He’s being kind of… dickish. I guess that’s a word. Letting me know he’s slightly annoyed with me. But at the same time he’s doing everything right. The car, the clothes, the restaurant, the booth. All of it makes me feel wonderfully taken care of.
“Thank you,” I say.
“For what?”
“For all of it. It was… nice.”
“Nice?” He cocks an eyebrow at me.
“Nice as in thoughtful,” I say. “All of it. You didn’t need to be so careful with me, so I just want you to know that I appreciate that.”
“God, Aria,” he says, rubbing his jaw with his hand.
“What?”
“You’re so fucking sweet.”
“Thanks?” I say. “I guess.”
“No, really,” he says, taking my hand and kissing it. “You’re fucking killing me. You are honest, and willing.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “But most of all… just sweet. I can’t stop thinking about it. You’re just a nice girl. A really nice girl.”
“Aww,” I say, bumping my shoulder into his chest. “Thank you.”
“I want to keep seeing you. What do I have to do to make that happen?”
I crinkle my nose at him. “You mean… be my boyfriend?”
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “But it doesn’t have to be that, I guess.”
“Hmm,” I say, thinking about this. “I mean, I like you. I do. And if you keep pursuing me I will give in and I will see you again. But you can’t come to prom with me.”
He laughs a little too loud, then shakes his head and looks down at his menu again. “We can start there and see what happens.”
When the waiter comes he orders us both water with lime and then puts his hand on my leg and slides it under my skirt.
“Not now,” I say, trying to swat him away.
But he just grips my leg tight—tight enough to tickle and make me gasp—then says, “Yes. Now. While we order. I want to see how you handle it.”
“How I handle it?”
“Coming in public.”
“Ryker,” I whisper. “No.”
“Oh, yeah. I lived up to my end of the deal, now you have to live up to yours. I want you to feel out of control. And ultimately you are in control. Aria. You can get up and walk out any time you want. I’ll take you home. Leave you alone. But I like to play games and this is the one I want to play with you. So you’re not in control. I am.”
“Jesus,” I mumble.
“Should we go? Or stay?” He slides his fingers right between my legs as he says that and even though I’m still super sore and it totally feels like there’s still a cock inside me, I’m also wet and hot for him.
“Stay,” I say.
And then he leans over and kisses me on the mouth. “You’re not going t
o regret it. Also, you should know. You’re mine now. So no one, and I do mean no one, but us will know what’s happening under your skirt. Got it?”
“OK,” I say, hesitantly.
“That means you can’t scream out, or moan, or whine, or squeak, or make any of those noises you were making last night. Understand?”
I take in a deep breath and nod. “OK.”
“Good,” he whispers, leaning over to kiss my mouth. “I’m going to get you off right now, before we order.”
“Right now?”
“Right now. So concentrate.”
But it’s very hard to concentrate when there’s several dozen business people in here with us and wait staff is bustling past our table every few seconds.
“Open your legs a little more,” he whispers, angling his body towards mine.
I do, and the tip of his finger begins playing with my clit as he gazes down into my eyes and says, “Now talk to me. Tell me about your day so no one knows what I’m doing.”
“My day was spent thinking about you.”
“Yeah? What kind of thoughts did you have?”
His finger slips down my slit and begins to push into my entrance.
“I thought about… how I could still feel you inside me when I woke up. And how sore I was.”
“Does this hurt?” he says, pushing his finger up a little further.
“Two waters with lime,” the waiter says, placing our drinks on the table. “Do you need a few more minutes?” he asks me.
And in that exact same moment, Ryker’s finger begins flicking my clit.
“Yes, please,” I say, barely managing not to squeak.
“Very well,” the waiter says with a small bow. “Take your time.”
“I don’t think we’ll need much time,” Ryker says. “Give us two minutes.”
“Two minutes,” the waiter says. “Be right back.”
“Two minutes?” I say.
“Two minutes, sweet thing. And keep talking.”
“Keep talking,” I repeat, just as he sticks his finger back inside me.
“You can lean back a little, if you need to. But not too much. And don’t make faces.”
“I’m not making faces.”
“You are making faces.” He laughs. “You look like someone is fingering you under the tablecloth right now.”
“Oh, God.”
“Minute and a half.”
“Put it all the way in,” I say. “And fuck me with it. Quick.”
“Holy shit, Aria,” he says. But he does what I ask. He slides his finger all the way up inside me until it’s so clear he is fingering me under the table—I feel like everyone is watching.
They aren’t. Or maybe they’re pretending not to. But it turns me on to think that they are. And one more flick of Ryker’s thumb on my clit and I do it. I come. Not a big climax, but a slow, gushing wet one that makes him lean in and kiss me right on the mouth.
CHAPTER TEN - RYKER
“Are you ready to order?” the waiter says. Just a few seconds after I remove my finger from Aria’s pussy and hold it under the table. I want her to lick it. She will lick it.
“Yes. Miss Amherst will have the truffle grilled cheese and I’ll have the ribeye sandwich.”
“Very good choices.” The waiter smiles and takes the menus. Then he looks at Aria and says, “I’m sure you’ll love the grilled cheese, honey,” before walking off.
“What was that?” Aria says.
“What was what?” I ask, leaning in to her neck to kiss her. “I want to take you in the bathroom an—“
“Grilled cheese?” she says.
“What’s wrong with grilled cheese?” I ask, pulling away from her.
“Am I five?”
“It’s truffle grilled cheese, Aria. For grown-ups.”
She just makes a face.
“OK, so you don’t like grilled cheese. Noted.”
“I like grilled cheese, it’s just”—she makes a noise of frustration—“I feel five!”
“Aria,” I say, leaning back in to her neck. “I’m playing with your pussy in public. There is no reason to feel like you’re five.”
“Yeah,” she says, pushing my hand away from her leg. “Stop that. Everyone is looking over here.”
“No one’s looking,” I say, glancing around. No one is. Everyone is having lunch.
“I feel like… a toy. Like some plaything. And you know what? I’m not.”
“Uh… OK,” I say, calmly leaning back against the booth. “I thought we were playing around, so that could be the reason.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what? Why are you so upset with me? I’m sorry about the grilled cheese. I didn’t choose it because it’s called grilled cheese. I chose it because truffles are delicious and fancy.”
She makes a face and takes a deep breath. “I don’t think I want to be here.”
“Here?” I say, pointing down at the table. “Or with me?”
She looks away.
“OK,” I say, flagging the waiter as he rushes by. “Excuse me? Can we cancel our order? Our plans have changed.”
“Certainly, sir. And no charge for the water.”
“Thanks,” I say, getting out my wallet to leave a tip.
“We don’t have to leave.”
“Clearly we do, Aria.” I scoot out of the booth on one side and she scoots out on the other. We don’t hold hands as we walk back through the restaurant. She leads the way, chin up, stiff posture, hands holding her skirt close to her legs, and I follow, wondering why I bother with the young ones.
There is a reason people tend to date others their own age, right? Compatibility and stuff like that?
“Where should I drop you?” I ask her, once the valet delivers the car.
“Just… home.”
“Fine,” I say, pulling away from the hotel.
There’s quite a bit of traffic so this makes the awkward silence even more awkward. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “Aria,” I say. “What’s the real problem? Is it my choice of food or the fact that you felt uncomfortable with what we were doing or—“
“You know what it is?” she says, looking straight ahead.
“That’s what I’m asking.”
“It’s wrong.”
“What’s wrong? My hands on your body in public? Because that’s kind of the point, right? We were just playing around. Having some secret fun. It’s supposed to feel wrong, and daring, and exciting, and—“
“That’s not how it felt,” she says.
“Well, it was until I ordered you truffle grilled cheese.”
She huffs.
“You were laughing, having a good time, and then—bam. You were pissed. So what’s wrong?”
“Why are you even here with me? This was supposed to be a one-night thing.”
“Right. We talked about this already. I changed my mind and you changed yours. And clearly, you’ve changed it again. So fine. You don’t want me around, I’ll drop you off and never talk to you again. That work for you, princess?”
She doesn’t say anything else the rest of the ride back to her sister’s apartment. When I pull up to the front of the house, she gets out without a word, closes the door, and walks away.
I sit there for a second. Watch her go through the door, and then shake my head and drive away.
This is why I don’t date eighteen-year-old girls.
But back at the office I can’t get her out of my mind. I messed up. I did something. Not the grilled cheese, that’s just what triggered her new feelings. I made a mistake somewhere. Misjudged her.
And even though I want to pretend that it’s all cool, just another one-night stand… I can’t.
I took her virginity last night.
And I liked it.
I might even like her.
“What’s up your ass today?” Ozzy says, coming into my office and flopping down on a chair. “We’re totally on track to purchase three more houses and one more b
uilding in the Gingerbread. And the festival is coming along nicely. July fourth is gonna be a blast. We’ll probably have sold several houses by then. Two are going on the market—“ Then he stops. “Are you even listening to me?”
I stare at him for a second. “You ever date a younger woman?”
He laughs. “All the time.”
“How young?” I ask.
He shrugs. “The girl I went out with last weekend was twenty-seven. Seeing her again tonight, in fact.”
“No, I mean young,” I say. “As in really young.”
“How young?” he asks, with a totally different tone.
“Eighteen,” I say.
“Oh, dude. No. No, no, no. Don’t go there. That’s a child. And yeah, they look good, but there’s nothing there, Ryker. It’s just fluff.”
“Yeah.” I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “You’re probably right.”
“I am right. I tried to date a girl who was twenty once and it was fun for like… two days. Then she just went all stupid on me.”
“Stupid how?” I ask.
“You know… ‘You’re too old,’” he says, mimicking a girl’s voice. “‘I can’t be seen with you in public. People will talk or think I’m your daughter.’”
“Hmmm. How old were you?”
“Shit, I was only thirty at the time.” He shakes his head at me. “Thirty-five and eighteen, Ryk? It’s never gonna work. Just get rid of her. Let her down easy, but yeah. Get rid of her.”
I nod. “Sure. Yeah. I’ll do that.” But I don’t have to do that because she already got rid of me.
“OK, well, I just came in here to tell you I’m having a meeting with the bankers Friday afternoon to put together the next loan package for the current resident rehabs.”
“Cool,” I say, barely caring. Why is this girl on my mind? Why do I care?
“Cool,” Ozzy says. “You’re coming though, right? To the meeting? Because this is a new bank and they’ve already raised questions about how much we’ve borrowed for this project. I know we’re extended, but we’re not overextended. We can manage one more loan. Besides, we can’t get the neighborhood on our side unless we show them we’re on their side. We need this loan package.”
“Sure,” I say. “I’ll definitely be there.”
“So what are you doing tonight? You wanna come have drinks with Sheila and me?”
