by M. C. Cerny
“You have the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen. Summer Midnight. Gorgeous.” His lips murmured inching closer to mine with a husky voice that sounded like he rarely used it unless necessary. There was no cliché in his words and the attraction was heady between us, flowing like honey. Heavy, slow, and sweet.
I gazed at his mouth, pale masculine lips fuller on the bottom than on the top looking bitable and delicious. I craved to taste his mouth and run my tongue along the inseam wondering if he’d be bitter like his beer I watched him sipping earlier. My hand cupped his cheek, my skin dark against his tan in the dim club light and I pulled him closer. I needed him in a way I hadn’t needed anyone before. My ex-boyfriend was light years away in time and space, but this man in front of me seemed more than capable of offering me exactly what I wanted.
A night of distraction.
He raised his head up groaning and our eyes scanned each other up and down several times. He gazed on me genuinely interested in what he saw, and I liked it. The itch to test him ran rampant in my suspicious mind. I’d been burned before.
“Maybe, I’m just a novelty.” I brushed him off turning away with the obvious ready to bolt. His arms circled around my middle preventing my escape, but loose enough I didn’t feel threatened. He pulled me flush against his hard body. I almost bounced off of him, but he caught me, his hold immovable. My back was against his chest and I felt the ridge of his dick lined up between the swells of my butt. He lifted grinding against me in tune to the music. I sank back into him feeling more relaxed and trusting than I should on a first date, first anything in fact, because this isn’t a date. I tell myself the lie that it won’t get farther than that.
His hands stroked down my arms caressing the goose bumps gently and warming me against the draft inside the bar as the door swung open and closed.
His lips skated against my neck, his breath hot, but clean despite imbibing the beer before our dance. “Nothing about you would be a novelty. I want to get to know you.” He turned me around slowly in his arms. “Preferably outside a noisy place like this.”
I scanned the club for my sisters and girlfriends, but they’re busy at the bar flirting for drinks. I loved my hussy crew, but they got demerits for being terrible wing-women.
I shrugged keeping up the dance and light flirtation. Running my hands up his chest and around his neck I asked, “What did you have in mind?”
His chest expanded and a slow chuckle escaped as he elaborated. “You know that coffee shop on the corner?”
I ducked my head acknowledging the only coffee spot he could be talking about. I grew up in this town. “The one that’s open late and serves the best red velvet cupcakes in the state?”
He gave me a bashful look I wasn’t expecting as if he’s thinking things he shouldn’t. I can’t quite get a read on him, but if it’s just coffee then it doesn’t have to mean anything more. “That’s the one. Sweet Elixir. Best caramel coffee this side of the Hudson. Though they might have competition with Cake and Battery over in New Paltz.”
Nodding, I agreed to go with him for the quoted, just coffee, and glanced over my shoulder to where my sisters and friends are at the bar. “Sure, but I need to tell my girls where I’m going.”
It’s been a long dry spell for me and despite their eagerness for me to find a guy and hook up, they will still worry and tell me be wary. I’m the good girl of the group. I never go home with someone I haven’t been dating for a spell. If fact, this guy would be a first since Dev. This type of behavior will have them calling my ass early tomorrow for details over brunch.
“That’s a good idea. You can take a picture of my license if it makes them feel better.” He pulled out his wallet and handed me his license. I held up the official card and noted his personal details. David Arthur Easton, resident of New Paltz. The street address was on Main Street, and I knew the address was basically downtown near the school where I worked. He was three years older.
He leaned over my shoulder, “So not a total wacko?”
“The night is young.” I smirked and pulled out my phone to snap the photo. I texted my sister who messaged me back right away. I was surprised she responded given how preoccupied she looked chatting up the bartender and running interference on Dijah.
Kelsey: He’s hot. Be careful and call me later. *smiley face*
You bet. It’s just coffee…
Kelsey: It’s never just coffee, Kiara.
Sighing deeply, I slipped my phone back in my clutch. He could still be a serial killer, but I didn’t get those vibes, and the place we were going was a straight walk on well lit streets I was familiar with.
“Ready?” He gave me his arm and I took it following him outside. This was probably the riskiest thing I’d done since the cancer, chemo, and the amputation. Besides the summer running camp, I usually socialized with my close group of girlfriends and family. Dating had been off my radar for a long time and the small can of mace I kept handy didn’t look like it would dissuade him, though he’d been nothing but a perfect gentleman to me the entire time. This guy brought a whole different ball game to fitness. His body was solid as a rock, firm and ruddy with his tan skin and boyish good looks.
“Just coffee?” I remind him and he chuffed agreeing.
“I’m not a guy who presumes or says something he doesn’t mean. You can invite your friends. I assume one of them is your sister, right?” David doesn’t look the least bit bothered by my need to make sure he isn’t a wild ax wielding murderer.
I scrunch my nose tamping down my grin. “I have a feeling they wouldn’t let us chat anyway.” I smirked glancing back at them. Dijah made shooing motions with thumbs up while Kelsey pulled her back into the fray.
He grinned and held open the door, “After you then, Supergirl.”
I followed his lead outside onto the street and into the cool air. Our arms linked together automatically as if this were a romantic stroll. He positioned his body between me and the passerby’s that looked a little worse for wear out here on a Saturday night.
“Coffee and a cupcake at least.”
We chatted heading for the shop, small talk about the weather changing, and the latest movies out in the theater. We both enjoyed the Marvel franchise and he shyly admitted he thought I looked a bit like Zendaya which I found sweet and oddly endearing. He opened the coffee shop door leading me in. A few people lingered inside talking close and snuggled into plush velvet chairs in rich reds. A leather two seat sofa occupied a corner and we headed in that direction.
“Here?” He asked letting me sit down first.
“Sure.” I dropped my clutch on the table and he went to the counter to order our drinks. I pulled the top of my over the knee boot higher and made sure my opaque stockings covered the flesh covered joint of my prosthetic. I didn’t think I’d ever done that before, but this coffee date started to feel like something else the moment he gave me his ID to snap. I looked at the artwork on the wall and tapped my fingers along the top of my boot. Tempted to pick up my cell phone and message my sister for an SOS rescue.
David placed our drinks down followed by a plate with apple spice cupcakes. They were out of red velvet, but at least he got my coffee right. Sweet, no cream.
The couch swallowed us in forcing me to sink deeper next to him. My hips shifted and my prosthetic leg pressed into my good leg reminding me I wasn’t as normal as I liked to pretend. I arranged myself casually and well practiced. I hadn’t decided if I’ll tell him now, tonight, or never. Part of me doesn’t think he’ll care that the girl sitting next to him was missing anything, certainly not a limb, but old hurts and insecurities kept my lips frozen from the truth.
“This caramel coffee was something I missed a lot while I was away.” I watched him sip the coffee savoring it. Observing his appreciation for slow roasted, small batch caffeine was an experience. His eyes shuttered and a relaxed expression washed over him.
“Away? Like work travel?” I asked sipping my coffee while keeping an eye on D
avid over the rim of the cup.
His face creased in a muted grunt. “Something like that. I served in the military, and after my last tour, I was given a medical discharge.”
My heart skipped a beat and I wondered if this was the moment he flipped out and my fears about trust were reinforced. I’d just met him in a bar and left my ride home to have coffee. Taking a chance, I placed my hand on his knee. “Can I ask what happened?”
“Sure. It’s not a secret.” His hands held the coffee cup tight and he paused before starting again. His face lost the reverence for the coffee and I missed that peace he showed me a moment ago. “My unit was in a blast zone and one of our rovers went over an IED. Lost a few guys and I was injured.”
“I am so sorry you went through that.” I put the coffee down and touched his arm.
His face turned to mine and our eyes meet in the light of the coffee shop. It’s not bright, but it doesn’t have the murky tone like the bar. Faint scars are visible on the left side of his face from his hairline to the corner of his eye leading back toward his ear and down his neck. It doesn’t disfigure him, if anything it makes his features harsher, broodier, hot.
It doesn’t take a therapy license to see he doesn’t take well to my empathy. I knew a certain level of loss profoundly, but he was much fresher in the process. I also don’t want to compare our experiences because it was like apples to oranges in the most basic sense and rudely dismissive. It definitely didn’t feel like the right time to whip out my leg and say, me too. I pulled my hand away feeling his rejection, but he snatched my hand back holding it and turning it over to link our fingers together.
“I didn’t tell you so you would feel bad. I’m not looking for that.” The words tumbled from his lips in a monotone voice.
I still wanted him. I was still attracted to him, but where was this going? I had the school year starting on Monday and my time would be insanely occupied. If he was game, I was in ready to throw some actual caution to the wind.
I nudged him in the shoulder aiming to deflect toward better topics. “That explains your brick house.”
We chuckled and the tension melted away with the smoothness of our caramel coffees.
“The gym does help. Keeps my head occupied and my body healthy.” He said.
“I’m a bit of a fanatic myself.” Loosening the hold on my hand, I touched his knee and danced my finger up his thigh in what I hoped was the universal language for let’s go somewhere else. We didn’t need to discuss wounded pasts. I didn’t want to rehash mine probably as much as he didn’t want to rehash his. I hoped instead to feel more of his incredible body against me.
“How fanatical?”
“At least five times a week.” I forced the innuendo between us. He didn’t need to know I wasn’t talking about sex. He rolled with it not even trying to hide his grin. I waggled my eyebrows earning me a hearty chuckle as he tried to finish his coffee.
“I don’t want to assume things here, but…”
“You definitely made that clear earlier.” I said.
“Alright. Miss Kia, I find you utterly gorgeous and interesting, and I would like to get to know you better.” His hazel eyes warmed me like a hot cinnamon sugar roll.
When he said, get to know me better, I assumed sex.
“Your place. I share mine with my sister.” Not true, but I wasn’t ready to bring him home. That was my space and if he did turn out weird, odd, or otherwise, I didn’t want to bring him there.
“I rode here on my bike, but I have an extra helmet and jacket in my saddle bag. Or if you want to grab your car that’s fine too. I had two beers and coffee. Whatever makes you feel safer.”
I squeezed his arm. He was sweet, but the last thing I wanted was to feel safe tonight.
“Bike. Please.”
Who was this version of me? Bad girl Kiara Roberts.
“As the lady wishes.” David guided me back outside and we walked back in the direction of the bar toward his bike. He owned a beautiful Harley painted steel grey as best I could tell in the street lights. He opened up his saddle bag and handed me a jacket along with a shiny helmet.
David got on the bike and popped the stand. For a moment I feared I might lose my leg getting on the bike or with him driving. Near comical visions of it tumbling down the road made me ill and choking back a laugh.
“Ready?”
David held out his hand and I jumped on the back squeezing him tight with my legs. The ride back was less than twenty minutes on quiet deserted roads illuminated by the moonlight. He handled the bike well and I never for a moment felt unsure of his abilities.
He revved the engine and drove into a back parking lot of the main drag in town to a space behind Easton’s Pub. The alley was dark, a lamp flickered and he parked next to a beat up vehicle of indeterminate brand. We got off the bike and continued to hold hands walking in through the back door and up a flight steps.
“Want a drink or something? We own the bar and my brother brews everything.”
“No, I’m good, but thanks.” Oddly, I’d been inside Easton’s once or twice and never ran into him. He might have been deployed at the time, but I didn’t ask. If this turned sour, I could never show my face here again.
We head up the stairs to the first flight that had two doors for two apartments. He opened one and led me inside dropping his keys in a bowl by the door. I took in the sparse décor. Typical bachelor pad. Windows banked three sides of the apartment with tall gauzy curtains hanging from metal rods. He kept the lights low, but I saw a large TV took up one wall and a screen blocked off the bedroom in the open floor plan. His kitchen looked like a retro remodel complete with a bright red fridge like it had been plucked out of a diner car somewhere in 1960. It was cute and a trio exposed light bulbs hung from thick black wires over a hard wood topped island. Everything was neat, orderly, clean.
“So as much as I want this, are you sure?” David hovered close and I filled the space between us maneuvering closer to him. My hands traveled a path up his chest until my palms rested over his solid pecks. I could see the outline of his well-defined body even with his shirt. I was so close to solving the mystery of unicorn abs.
I leaned in close, my lips hovered over his ear and I let my voice drop whispering as I tugged him closer. “I’m totally sure.”
David backpedaled toward the bed and sat down reclining back. I followed by hiking one leg over to straddle him. I was not taking my clothes off, but I planned on having kinky sex no matter what at this point.
“Clothes?” David kissed my chin mentioning the one thing I wanted to avoid and made his way to the curve of my neck, his hand moving to my twisted tight curls.
I shook my head no and reached in between us to undo his belt and jean fly. He lifted his hips to help which only planted me further over his midsection like a bucking horse. I was sure David would be a hell of a ride and I let my hormones rule this one and only time.
“Kiara.” My name was said with such reverence I grew wetter each time he murmured the syllables. “Kiara, Kiara.” He chanted between kisses and I rolled my hips over him.
“I want this so bad.” I fumbled to free his huge dick and thumbed the precum from the tip around his shaft foolishly popping my thumb in my mouth. I didn’t even ask him his sexual history and I was strung out on his spend. Definitely taking the bad girl thing too far.
“Fuck, that’s good. Hold on.” My bad boy reached over his head to open the nightstand drawer pulling out a condom. He ripped the wrapper and rolled it over his length while I panted and salivated for more.
I reached in between plucking the fabric of my stockings with my nail. So much for overthinking this. I did not want to remove more clothes, but I wanted his hard cock pressing inside me deep to the core. I yanked on my stockings, once, twice, until I felt a small tear give. It was enough to fit my finger inside but no way was his dick fitting.
“Shit, that’s hot. Kiara, let me.” David gripped my thigh and worked his hand up my leg
until he reached the apex where I struggled with the barrier of dense nylon. David wormed his thick finger inside and yanked in a way that shredded the offending barrier.
“Now David.” I wiggled on top rubbing my wet folds against his hot length. His finger lingered rubbing my clit with the perfect amount of pressure that even I didn’t get right riding solo. He strummed me better than I thought possible. I wavered over his hips like a ripped sail in the wind barely tethered to reality in the wildness of the storm.
“Too good.” David grunted and I pressed down feeling the pop of pressure as the head of his cock fit inside me an inch or so. A tight fit for sure, but oh so good as my body stretched to accommodate him. He was definitely no inexperienced high school boy. I grinded my hips and let the shallow thrusts take me away to Blissville.
We moved in tandem. His lips found mine again and we kissed as he thrusted upward and I met him movement for movement. Push and pull. Every hip roll and jerk. The sex was fantastic and with minimal effort he had me coming faster than my ex or my fingers could manage. His thumb made small circles over my clit massaging a second wet orgasm until my moan could no longer be contained.
“That’s it. I like it just like that. Tight around my dick carrying on like you can’t help it.”
I bit my lip to deny him out of spite, but David wasn’t having it. He grinned with wolfish delight making slick circles over my clit and between my lips where we join until I screamed like a banshee. He cupped the back of my head and pulled me in for a soul destroying kiss. His tongue licked deep like he was on a treasure hunt strangling my cries. His rumble made me come again despite my will to hold back and he grunted through my shudders as I sunk over his body out of breath.
David rung me out without a fuck to give. I’d held onto a long standing bet that I’d end up with one of my staid faculty members in a mutually satisfying relationship after tenure. But if this was anything to go by, then I could indulge my fantasy to the limits and have this man one more time shamelessly, torn stockings and all.
