by Vicki Green
“Brock! Shit, man! Let’s go!” I throw the last piece of wood on the pile then cover it up with the heavy tarp and remove my gloves as I walk towards my bike. After straddling the seat, then starting it up, I follow Kane’s truck out of the site. The cool breeze feels great against my overheated skin as we drive down the familiar street until we reach the bar and park it in my normal spot on the side of the building.
It’s always like a family affair at Pops Bar since my parents own it and we’ve spent most of our lives in it. Several pats on our backs and arms as we walk in, people all around speaking at once, then we head straight for the counter. Kane has his normal stool at the end and mine next to it. The two men sitting there take one look at us and smile as they stand, taking their drinks and walking away to find another place to sit. I straddle the stool and notice Irish, sliding two beer bottles down the counter. “Thanks, Irish!” I yell as I pick up my bottle and take a drink as I hand the other to Kane. Irish has been a bartender/waitress here for a couple of years now and grew up down the street from us, her family close friends with ours. She’s quite the looker with her long, dark brown hair that reaches down to the middle of her back, but normally pulled up in a high ponytail. She has brilliant dark brown eyes and yes, I’m a guy, so of course I noticed her more than ample breasts as they grew over the years, but she’s like a sister to me so uh, no. Just ewww. She and Taren became fast friends and whenever I wasn’t with Taren, the two of them were inseparable. Of course her parents hated that too.
“’Bout time your foreman let you off work. Slave driver,” Pop smirks as he pats my shoulder on his way by me. I watch him walk to the side, smiling at me and then at Kane as he enters the back of the counter and leans against it in front of us. “Mac! Two hamburgers with all the fixin’s.” My stomach grumbles at the mention of food, especially the hamburgers here. Even though this is a small bar in one of the oldest neighborhoods around, it has the best food ever. “Kane, you’re gonna work yourself and your brother into the ground. Take off at a normal time. I won’t be losing my sons and digging their graves early just because of work.”
Kane slams his bottle down on the counter and people who don’t know him would think he was angry until his wide grin appears. He’s always had a tough exterior. His left arm has a tattoo of a Celtic knot around his bicep. Whereas his right side is covered in Polynesian tribal designs that go from around his nipple into the chest plate, then up and over his shoulder and down his arm a quarter of the way. He also has a large back piece that’s a black tribal design and it goes from shoulder to shoulder. His body is lean and mean with the workout he gets daily at work and then at the gym on his off hours. I try to join him to work out as much as I can. He normally keeps his face unshaven but trimmed and when he’s not wearing his construction hat he usually wears a cap of some kind over his short, black hair. I’m more of the clean shaven baby face, as Ma calls it, with my dark brown hair cut short and sticking up all over the place on top, probably from my fingers running through it constantly. We both have brown eyes.
“Pop, you taught me to own up and meet deadlines, keep it real, work hard and make it work. I’m only followin’ in your footsteps and tryin’ to bestow your good ethics on your baby boy here.” I watch him take a big swig of his beer as he winks at me then reaches over and rubs his hand over my head. I chuckle and push his large hand away.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t give me that crap, boy. Both my sons are hard workers but that doesn’t mean work yourself into an early grave. Lighten up. Hey, Brock! You up to working here a little after you eat and rest up? I could use the help tonight.”
I know what he’s trying to do. I know my family too well and am thankful they’re trying to help me keep my mind off of Taren. “Yeah, Pop. Sure.” He gives me a smile then leans over and pats my shoulder. Irish brings us our plates, the old fashioned grilled burgers stacked and the plate having an overabundance of fries. “Hey, uh….” Irish smiles as she walks back, smacking the counter with the mustard and ketchup bottles then gives me a wink. “Oh, thanks, Irish.”
“Don’t mention it. Not like I don’t know what you like,” she yells as she walks back down along the counter. Again, another great supporter and one that I have really good talks about Taren with, not like Ma who can sympathize but out of her love for her son. Irish actually helps keep me grounded, stops me from making stupid mistakes. Well, most of the time.
I have a great time and practically wolf down my food. Then Kane leaves to go workout and I head back into the kitchen to help out. I’ll never understand how he can fill his stomach and then workout, but he says then he can work it off. I think I’d puke. Once the bar closes and we get everything clean, I get on my bike and make the short journey down the dirt road behind the building to my small two bedroom apartment. It’s not much to look at from the outside, but Ma helped me when I moved in to make it look and feel homey inside. I park my bike on the side, hidden behind a large tree and walk around to the front, letting myself in the door of the building, and check the mailbox slot on the right. Bills, normal, and a letter that makes my heart skip a beat. As I unlock my front door the feeling of needing a hot shower to wash away all the dirt and grime from the day almost overwhelms me, but instead I sit down on my couch and rip open the envelope with shaky hands. This is the first time I’ve heard from her since the accident and am wondering how she managed to get a letter mailed.
Brock,
My love. I miss you so much my heart is breaking. I received your letter and I read it several times a day, almost hearing your voice. God, I want to feel your strong arms around me so badly, feel your skin and look into your beautiful eyes. Soon, my love, soon. Meet me in our special place as soon as I can signal you. I can’t wait to taste your lips, lay my head against your warm chest and feel you laying close to me. Don’t worry about me so much, I know you are. I’m fine and we’ll be together soon. Wait for me.
Yours always,
Taren
I read it a few times, stroking the paper with my calloused finger like I could feel her words. In my mind I’m picturing her sitting on her bed and chewing on the end of her pen as she thought of the right words to write. Soon. I wonder what she has planned. Fuck! I can’t wait to see her again, hold her in my arms and kiss her full lips. I’ve never been inside her. We got close several times, but it never felt right, never the right moment, although I would give anything to be inside her right now. I’ve dreamt so many times of being with her that way, making love into the night and then holding her in my arms afterwards, her skin aglow in her post-coital state. Damn, my cock is hard just thinking about it.
Turning off all the lights, I walk into my room, placing her letter under my pillow and strip as I walk to the bathroom. I turn on the water in the shower as hot as I can stand it, and as I step under the spray, the water stings my already warmed skin from the sun. I take the soap and get a good lather, spreading it all over my body, the smell of freshness infiltrating my senses. My cock jumps when I grasp it and begin squeezing, stroking up and down its wide girth. “Fuck, Taren!” I yell out as I close my eyes, imagining it’s her small hand on me instead of mine. It doesn’t take long for my balls to tighten, my release imminent. “Damn!” My scream echoes in the small area as I release all I have, my liquid meshing with the water and swirling down the drain. Feeling a bit better, in more ways than one, I dry off, brush my teeth and run my fingers through my wet hair, then turn off the lights and crawl into bed. I move my arm under my head and stare up at the ceiling wondering what Taren is doing. Is she asleep? Is she laying in her bed thinking of me? Finally, my eyes grow heavy and close.
Chapter Two
Taren
Another day of playing my part. Another day of longing for Brock. I need to find the chance to get free of my parents. I’m hoping they will return my cell phone and laptop to me soon. I need to see Brock, so desperately, hear his low gruff voice and feel his touch. I’m being taken out to dinner by Jeffrey to some chic r
estaurant. Time to form a plan. I have a hard time dressing, not wanting to get all dolled up. I’d much rather be in my yoga pants, t-shirt, and meet Brock at our special place. I dab on the last bit of mascara when the doorbell rings downstairs and sigh. Time to play my part.
We get to the restaurant and I zone out, feeling numb and not my normal self. “Miss Mills,” Jeffrey says in a sweet and somewhat sexy voice as he pulls my chair out for me. Grabbing my dress, I fold it under me as I sit and cross my legs under the table. My eyes focus in on the look Jeffrey is giving the hostess and her cleavage and I try to resist rolling them.
“Your waitress will be right with you, sir.”
He winks and smiles at her, and then she walks away flustered. Removing my napkin from the silver ring, I unfold it and place it across my lap, then take a roll from the basket in the middle of the table and spread some butter on it. “Quite a lovely dress, Taren. You look beautiful tonight.” He takes a sip of his water, looking into my eyes and I want to reach across the table and smack the smirk off his mouth. If I wasn’t so in love with Brock, and if I was a total pretentious bitch, I could totally go for this guy except for the fact that he’s an asshole and a total man whore.
“Really, Jeffrey, thank you, but there’s no need to be so formal. This is just an arrangement, a deal. You remember that, right?” He sets his glass down and opens his mouth to speak when we’re interrupted.
“Good evening. I’m your waitress, Sylvia. Are you ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?”
Sylvia is wearing a tight shirt, showing her ample breasts that are smooshed together by a very skimpy shirt, while staring right into his eyes, ignoring me completely. He’s staring right at her breasts, not even looking at her face at all. Not obvious. “Ah, yes, Sylvia. We’ll have the Bourbon steak, medium rare, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, a dinner salad with Italian dressing and for an appetizer, the oysters on the half shell. Oh, and two gin and tonics. Thank you.” My anger starts to boil, and then I watch as he hands the menus to the Sylvia but before she can grasp them, he lets them slip and fall to the floor. “Oh, I do beg your pardon.” She bends over to retrieve them, and as he leans down to help I hear him whispering, his eyes still trained directly on her now almost falling out breasts, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. When Sylvia rises, her cheeks are flushed. She winks at him and then turns and walks away. Serious, man whore.
“While I appreciate your kindness, I would have rather ordered for myself. I don’t care for half of what you ordered,” I tell him, trying to keep my angered voice down.
He reaches across the table and takes my hand, bringing it up to his lips and kisses the top. I yank it back and put it in my lap, quickly. “Now, Tare. It’s my job as the man to order for you and I promise you will learn to like whatever I order. As far as our arrangement? Why don’t we proceed with the marriage and have our side benefits. I think it would work well for us. Don’t you?” His voice causes shivers to run through me.
Another waitress brings over our drinks and appetizer and sets them on the table.
I’m really trying hard to keep my anger at bay, but I’m not sure how much longer I can contain it. As soon as she leaves I lean over the table, trying to keep my voice down. “The name is Taren and we had a deal. If you can’t keep your end of it, I can just call everything off. I have no issues with doing that. So, which is it?”
He takes a bite of his buttered roll and then wipes the corners of his mouth with his napkin. I want to wipe the smirk off his fucking face. “Now, now. No need to get your dander up, princess. We still have a deal but you can’t blame me for trying. Everything is a sacrifice, everything we do. I just hope yours is worth it.”
My sacrifice? Yes, it’s worth it. It’s worth everything. I will sacrifice whatever it takes for my love. “Oh, it’s worth it. What I need is….” The slinky waitress chooses that moment to bring us our food, setting everything down from her large tray in front of us. I about lose the bile that’s in my throat from the smell and quickly drink some water.
“I hope you enjoy. Will that be all?” She asks directly at Jeffrey.
“Another of these,” he says holding up his empty gin and tonic glass. “And then yes. For now.” He winks at her and she saunters away and I pray to God I don’t vomit all over the table. He begins to cut his steak and stops, mid cut, and looks at me. “You were saying?” He raises his fork with a piece of steak and sticks it in his mouth. That’s not all I’d like to stick there.
“Yes, well. I need my cell phone and laptop back from my parents. I need you to talk with my father and suggest it so you can be in touch with me.” I look around at the food in front of me and decide I can at least stomach the salad.
“Very well,” he says in boredom. “But then you must allow me to take you out again, soon.” Asshole!
I look up at him, chew and swallow. “Okay, but then you need to let me use you as an alibi one night. Deal?” He laughs. Laughs. Not a chuckle either, a full out belly laugh.
“Deals, deals, deals.” He leans forward, his arms on the table and looks me square in the eyes, making me feel uncomfortable when I see the hunger in them. “Then you must act more like a true date when we go out. I expect your arm around me, touching me fondly, like you’re really in love with me.” He sits back and clasps his hands together in front of him. Pride shows on his face like he’s getting what he wants. “We are to look like we’re to be married, right?” Okay, this may just kill me, but I’m determined and will get what I want and what I need too.
“Okay, deal.” I sigh, reluctantly.
“Good. Now eat up. I don’t care for my women to be too skinny.” I watch as he cuts another piece of steak, my appetite leaving with his words, but I manage to get through my salad.
After dinner, he takes me home, walking me to the front door and proceeds to put his arms around me. I stiffen immediately. “Relax, princess,” he whispers, his mouth inches from mine. “Audience.” My eyes move slowly to the front window and then snap back to Jeffrey when I see the drapes pulled to the side slightly. Reflexively, I swallow hard when his lips touch mine, his hand pressing against my lower back, pulling me closer to him and then his tongue forces its way into my mouth. Right when I push back to slap him, the front door opens stopping me.
He releases my mouth and then leans back, his eyes giving me the creeps, looking as if he wants to devour me. “Ah, Jeffrey. Taren. Good evening. I hope your dinner was enjoyable?” My dad’s boisterous voice seeps out into the darkness. We turn to face him and Jeffrey grasps my hand and threads his fingers through mine. I’m gonna have to scald that hand in hot water as well as my mouth and tongue.
“Mr. Mills. I was just telling Taren what a lovely evening it has been. Thank you for allowing me to take her out and….” He turns to me, looking all the great actor he isn’t and smiles. “Thank you, my dear, for the complete enjoyment of your company tonight.” He brings my hand up to his lips, kissing the top lightly but doesn’t release it when done. “I look forward to another night very soon. Perhaps Friday night, some dinner, a movie and even a little dancing?” I peek over at Dad who’s standing there gloating and then back at Jeffrey.
“That would be lovely, Jeffrey. Thank you for dinner tonight. I look forward to Friday.” He kisses my hand again, and then I tug it free, secretly gritting my teeth and trying to disguise the fact that I want to hurl. I walk inside, passed Daddy, and stop when I hear them whispering. Damn, I can’t make out what they’re saying. Running upstairs, I jog to my room and after closing the door, I strip on the way to the shower and set it as hot as I can stand it. After a much needed scrubbing, I get the rest of my nightly duties done and slip on my favorite sleep tank and panties. Once I’ve settled into bed I lay there, staring at the ceiling and hoping that all of this will be worth it in the end. It has to be. Brock’s stunning face enters my mind, his brown eyes that I love so much, and his full lips that I long to kiss and my heart rate increases. I can see him sitti
ng on his motorcycle with his black leather jacket on, even though the heat of the day is burning. His broad chest reveals his wifebeater beneath it, calling to me to run my hand over his soft skin. Sleep doesn’t come easy tonight, but as I roll over and place my hands beneath my cheek all I can think about is him.
I awaken with the sun shining and a renewed feeling of determination. A beeping and vibrating sound alerts me to a….TEXT! Oh, my God! I quickly sit up and look at my nightstand, grabbing my phone and scrolling through all the texts and voicemails. Wow, I can’t believe I have my phone back! Brock left most of them but there are a few from Irish as well. I listened to all the voicemails, tears falling when I hear Brock’s voice, sounding concerned and worried, and I save those. Then I read through all the texts and quickly send a text to Brock, my heart beating so fast in anticipation.
Me: Brock! I miss you!
Almost instantly I get a text back.
Brock: U got ur phone back! Thank fuck! I miss u 2!
Me: Fri nite. Secret place
Brock: Can’t wait! Fuck I miss u so much!
Brock: I love u!
Me: I luv u 2!
My smile is huge and I can’t wait until Friday.
Brock
Thank God, she’s okay. Friday night. Two nights from now. Fuck! “What’s got you all bouncy, Brock?” I turn and see Kane standing there, with his beefy arms crossed over his chest and giving me his cocky grin. I could trust him, tell him that I’m gonna see Taren, but I don’t want to put him in the middle, again. Even though he’s always been there for me, watched over me, it’s time I stand on my own two feet. I don’t want any of my family getting mixed up in this again.
“Nothing. Just got stuff on my mind. Things to do, ya know?” He nods and winks, like he knows something’s up. I could never hide anything from him, but I think this time it would be for the best.
