by K. L. Myers
“Thank you both for a wonderful evening, but I think I’m going to call it a night and head home.” I look around the table and address everyone else. “See you all when you return.”
As I start to leave, I hear Cayson speak up. “Time to call it a wrap, folks. Now, get the hell out of my home so I can spend some alone time with my princess.” I laugh at how callous he can be at times and tap out a quick text on my phone.
ME: Meet you at your house.
I look over my shoulder to see Rocky reach for his phone and then smile as he stands and says, “Don’t have to tell me twice. I’m out of here.”
I’m already in my car and pulling out of the driveway when I see Rocky exit through the front door.
17
Rocky
I drive as fast as I can to my home. The whole time, my mind is going over a thousand scenarios, but all of them lead back to me needing to tell Rusty about Kathy and me because if everything goes the way I want it to tonight, Kathy will be joining us on this leg of the tour.
When I pull into the drive, she’s leaning against her Benz, legs crossed and arms pushing up her oh-so-amazing tits. It’s all I can do to not slam my car into park, pull her inside the house, and fuck her senseless. But I don’t do that. No, I pull my car into the garage and climb out, acting like I’ve got it all under control.
“Hey, bright eyes, aren’t you a sight.”
Kathy smiles first, then relaxes her arms to her sides as she strolls up to me, stopping just shy of pressing her body against mine. I feel her hand press against my dick, which is currently trying to bust through the zipper.
“Feels like someone is very happy to see me.” She laughs as her hand runs up and down my hardened length.
I’m hanging on by a threat, almost ready to explode in my pants, which is something I haven’t done since I was a horny teenager. My hand quickly grabs hers, pulling it away and holding it at bay so I can think of old ladies naked in a hot tub. That should solve the issue currently in my pants.
“Not so fast, dirty girl.” I turn and pull Kathy along behind me as we make our way through the garage. Just as I click the button to close the garage, I hear the double beep of her car alarm confirming her intention to stay as long as I want her to.
When we’re inside the house, I push her up against the door, slide my leg between hers, and claim her mouth. I’m sure my kiss is so intense that I’m bruising her lips, but I don’t care. I’ve sat and ignored her long enough tonight. I can’t ignore her any longer. I’m desperate to touch her and show her just how horny I am. Before I can break the kiss, her legs wrap around my waist, and I can feel the heat from her core pressed against me. Tiny whimpers make their way past her lips when she grinds her pussy against me. Just her rocking motion creates tingles from my spine to my balls.
My lips break from our kiss as I groan, “Fuck, babe, I need to be inside you, like now.” I begin to tear at her clothes. Buttons are flying from her shirt.
“Hey, that was a two-hundred-dollar Marc Jacobs, you ass.” Kathy’s eyes narrow as she looks directly into mine.
“I’ll buy you ten new ones,” I tell her just as my tongue reaches out to flick her almost exposed nipple. The lace cups of her bra barely cover her pretty, pink peaks, and I fucking love it. I cup the bottom of her breast and squeeze, pulling the lace down, allowing my mouth to completely cover her areola. As I suck, I again flick her nipple, causing Kathy to moan, and I can feel her cunt clench through her shorts.
A shiver runs through her body. “Roger, please, I want you.” I hear her cry breathlessly, “Oh God.” And once again, I feel her center heat up and her nipples harden to rock.
Part of me wants to carry her upstairs to my bed and make love to her, but the teenager in my pants says the floor will do, so that is exactly what I do. I drop to my knees, taking her with me, and lie back so that I’m the uncomfortable one. Reaching around her butt, I undo my button and slide down my zipper, freeing my cock as I slide my jeans down around my thighs. I break the kiss long enough to sit her up and unbutton her shorts.
“Lift up, baby. Let me slide these amazing Daisy Dukes off you,” I tell her, and she does as I request. Once her pussy is completely bare, I pull a condom from my pocket and sheath myself before sliding myself inside and find comfort in her warmth. Slowly, Kathy raises herself up and down my shaft. Her wetness is coating me from root to tip, but her attempt to tease me by sliding oh so slowly is halted by me when my hands grab hold of her waist and raise her just enough to allow for me to control the thrust of my hips into her. I feel myself ratcheting up to my climax, and I stop, allowing her to once again take control. Her hips rock back and forth against me, rubbing her clit. The roll of her hips increases in speed, and I feel her inner walls begin to tremble and tighten around my hardness. Within moments, we are both going over the edge and seeing stars, our lungs expanding and contracting as we gasp for air.
Kathy collapses onto my chest at the same time we both breathe, “WOW.”
I lie there for a moment stroking her back before I sit up, taking her with me. When she climbs off me, I feel her absence. Immediately, I strip out of the remaining pieces of clothing I'm wearing. Before Kathy can question what is going on, she’s in my arms as I make my way to my bedroom, toss back the sheets, and climb in with her underneath me. “Ready for round two, bright eyes?” I ask while sliding my mouth down her stomach before stopping and assaulting her lady bits.
Completely sated, I lie awake and stare at the ceiling. My mind is going a hundred miles a minute. My arm wraps tighter around the beauty lying beside me, and I pull her in closer. “Babe, I think we need to tell Rusty about us.”
Kathy’s head pops up off my chest. “Why? There’s no need. You leave tomorrow, so he doesn’t need to know. It was fun while it lasted, but we both knew that our time would come to an end when you leave.”
She couldn’t have knocked the wind out of me any faster if she had punched me in the solar plexus. “Who said anything about ending it because I’m leaving? We’re not over. Get that idea out of your head. I want you to come with me. Join me for the next two months. You’ll have bonding time with Kayla, and this doesn’t have to end. I don’t want it to end, bright eyes. Do you?”
18
Kathy
“What? You didn’t just ask me to follow you on tour like some cunty groupie, did you?” The disgust on my face is apparent, and I see the hurt in Rocky’s eyes.
Rocky pushes me off his chest and sits up. “I’ve never once in four weeks treated you like a groupie, Kathy. I can’t believe you think that little of me. What’s wrong with me wanting you to join me?”
Standing, Rocky slides on his boxer briefs. “We’ve been together almost every night. I’ve shared more with you than I’ve shared with anyone ever before. I’ve never done repeats, and you know that, so you of all people should have realized this was more than just fucking for fun. I thought we were on the same page.”
I, too, climb out of bed, only I wrap the sheet around me and follow behind Rocky as he makes his way into the bathroom. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you treated me as anything less than a princess. It’s just that we barely know each other, Roger. We’ve been hanging out for four weeks. That’s all.”
Just as I reach the bathroom, the door slams in my face. “Just go, Kathy! I don’t think I can stand to see your face right now.” Rocky yells through the door. His words are punching a hole in my chest. I didn’t think he could ever say something so hurtful to me, but he just did. I stand there for a moment, waiting to see if he’ll open the door, but he doesn’t. Unwilling to just wander out of his home with a ripped shirt, I rummage through his drawer and find a Razor’s Edge T-shirt to slip over my body, then make my way back to the hallway where we entered the home. There, I find my shorts and my shoes. My shirt is ruined, so I leave it where it lies. “Fuck it. He can clean up the mess,” I say out loud and then, with my shoes in hand, I storm out the front door.
> Once in my car, I slam my door and take all my frustration out on my pretty car. I bang my hands against the steering wheel and let the tears fall. I cry so hard that the hiccups take over and I have to rest my head against the steering wheel to compose myself. I keep hoping that Rocky will come walking out the front door and we’ll both apologize for how we acted, but it doesn’t happen, so before I look any more pathetic than I already do sitting here crying, I turn the key in the ignition and reach down to put the car in gear. It’s then that I look up and see Rocky standing in the bathroom window, his hands running through his hair, then resting at the back of his head as he watches me back out of the drive.
During the whole drive home, I analyze what went wrong. How did this night turn from amazing sex to shit? It’s like we didn’t pass go, didn’t collect our two hundred dollars, and went straight to jail. Only I’m still living the nightmare as I drive home with tears once again streaming down my face. I’m such an absolute blubbering mess that I run through a red light, barely missing a car coming from the right. The voice in my head yells at me, Pull yourself together, bitch! Why didn’t you just say yes when he asked? As the voice in my head asks me questions, I wonder if it makes me crazy that I answer myself out loud. Right about now, I feel crazy. “Because it’s too soon!” I yell back at myself. “Because we don’t really know each other. Don’t you think I want to go with him? But I can’t! I’m scared! It’s too soon!”
Holy fuck, I just yelled at myself, and the family in the car next to me is staring at me like I’ve lost it. I wipe the tears from my eyes and smile at them briefly but step on the gas and turn right as soon as it’s clear, racing to get myself home before I break again.
19
Rocky
I stand there watching Kathy break down and cry in her car. What have I done? I wonder to myself. I just pushed the best thing I’ve ever had out of my house. I want to rush outside and beg her to forgive me, but my feet are rooted to the floor, and so I just watch her. She’s angry and hurt, and I’ve done that to her. I run my hands through my hair and pull at it behind my head. I step away from the window and run to the front door, but I’m too late. As my feet bring me to the street, Kathy’s car is already partially down the road, and I know she won’t see me.
Rushing back into the house, I run for my phone and dial her number. I’ve got to apologize, but I hear her phone ringing from somewhere down the hall. When it goes to voicemail, I no longer hear where the sound comes from. I dial once again and listen for it. I hear it and find her phone underneath her torn blouse. I have no way of contacting her other than driving to her home, and right now is probably not a good time to do that, so I wait.
I wait and pace the as the minutes tick by slowly. I find myself in the kitchen with a bottle of Old Rip Van Winkle, a twenty-five-year-old whiskey. I don’t use a glass. I just pull the stopper off the ten-thousand-dollar bottle and place it at my lips, then I chug swig after swig. The amber liquid burns like fire as it rolls down my throat. Staggering to my room, I’m assaulted by the smell of sex. I lift the bottle to my lips again, and this time, I don’t stop for air. I just drain what is left in the crystal bottle and then throw it against the wall, where it shatters into pieces.
I stumble into my closet and pull out my suitcase. No time like the present to pack for tomorrow. The black Samsonite falls to the floor from the top shelve where I stored it. I pick it up and toss it on my sex-mussed bed and open it only to find that there is still clothing in it I didn’t unpack after our last jaunt out of the country. I take my frustrations out on the clothes remaining in my suitcase and toss them. Clothes are flying through the air and landing on the floor in various parts of my room. When I reach for the last piece of clothing, a small plastic pouch falls loose. It’s filled with perfectly white powder. How I made it through customs with that, I’ll never know, but I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that we fly our own personal jet, so everything is handled for us by Sean.
The devil sits on my right shoulder, telling me to enjoy just a taste, that it’s perfectly fine and I deserve it. However, the angel on my left reminds me that I have a habit and if I taste just a tiny bit, I’ll want more. He reminds me that it won’t just stop there, that I’ll want the stronger stuff, so I need to just flush what I found down the toilet.
I’m a weak man with a broken heart who is drunk off his ass, so I go with the devil on my right and walk myself out to the living room and drop to the couch. The coffee table speaks to me, begging me to use its glass surface and cut myself two perfectly white lines. How can I deny its cries of desire? I do it. I sit in front of the table and pour the contents out. Before I know it, I’m using my AMEX Platinum as a razor blade, chopping the tiny rocks into smaller pieces and sliding the pristine powder into two perfect two-inch lines. The hundred-dollar bill in my wallet begs for me to roll it into a tube, and I do, placing one end on the table and one to my nostril, and then I breathe in as the money rolls over the line, causing it to disappear into my nose.
It feels like heaven. The burn travels up my nose until I feel the euphoric feeling stimulating my brain. My body slumps back against the couch, and my eyelids close as I submerge myself in the feeling and try to relax. My heart begins to race, pound, and flutter, enough so that I know I’ve made a huge mistake. I just wanted to take away the pain in my heart, feel nothing, no pain, no emptiness. I fucked up, and I know it.
I stumble back to my room, looking around for my phone, and dial the only person I know I can trust: Cayson. The phone rings, but there’s no answer, so I dial again and again until I hear his voice.
“What!” Cayson yells into the phone.
I say the only words I know to say as my world starts to spin around me. “Cayson, help me. I fucked up. Please.”
20
Cayson
I yell into the phone, “Rocky, Rocky, answer me, buddy! You still there?” But there is no answer. Kayla is at my side within moments, a look of despair on her face.
“What did Rocky do.” It’s not a question but a statement because she senses that something bad has already happened. I explain to her as I get dressed that I have no idea but that I’m going to find out. Kayla wants to come with me, but I tell her to stay. This is something I need to handle on my own.
I have no idea where Rocky was when he called. I assume that when he left my house, he headed straight home, so that is where I start. I call out to Rocky as I enter his home, but I get no response. I head to the garage to see if his car is here and confirm that he is, in fact, home. I yell once more, “Rocky, where are you, buddy?” But again, I get no response. When I reach the living room, I see the empty bag of cocaine. Lying next to the baggie are the remnants of a partial line left on the table, a rolled-up bill, and his credit card. “FUCK!” I immediately start running through the house, checking every room until I find him on the floor of his bedroom, shattered glass on the floor. “Rocky!” I call out his name and watch as he raises his head to look at me. His eyes are dilated, and he is confused and barely coherent.
Here’s the shit of it all. If I call 911, every news channel from here to kingdom come will be running the story by nine a.m. I’ve had enough experience with Rocky’s drug use to know that it’s not life-threatening; at least I hope this time isn’t. I punch in the numbers of the one person I know can help. “Rusty, I need you.” I rattle off Rocky’s address and then hang up the phone.
“Rocky, buddy, talk to me.” Panic laces my voice.
“CJ, I fucked up. I don’t know what I was thinking.” His words are slurred, and I know it’s from the alcohol and not the drugs.
“Rocky, how much did you drink, and how much coke is up your nose?” I’m anything but friendly at this point. I’ve gone from worried to angry that he’s put himself in this position once again.
“CJ, I lost it when she left. I started with just the booze. I promise that’s all I intended to do. To drink myself to sleep without her,” Rocky rambles on, but I don�
��t understand what the fuck he is talking about.
“Who left, Rocky, who?”
“Kathy. I thought there was something between us. Guess I was wrong.” Rocky falls to his side, staring at me.
“Where’d the coke come from, Rocky?” I need answers before he passes out, and by the looks of it, that is probably going to happen soon.
“Found it in an old suitcase. I caved. I knew it was wrong, wanted the pain to go away. Need her, CJ, can’t be without her, can...”
Rocky passes out before he finishes his sentence. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that he is head over heels in love with Kathy. Based on his few semi-coherent sentences, I’m assuming she rejected him, and he’s not handling her rejection well. Crap on a cracker. When Rusty finds out, this is going to be a disaster of epic proportions, and I’ve just started the end of days by calling him and asking him to come over and help me. If I’d known this was all about Kathy, I wouldn’t have called Rusty. Why didn’t I just call Ellie?
I hear a knock on the front door, and it starts to open, followed by Rusty calling out to me. “Up here!” I call back. When Rusty enters the room, Rocky is still passed out cold. Without going into too much detail, I bring him up to speed, leaving out anything that has to do with his sister. Rusty assesses the situation and agrees that there is no need for medical treatment. We get the semi-passed out, semi-awake Rocky to his bed and let him sleep it off. Periodically, Rusty checks Rocky’s pulse to make sure he’s still doing alright.
