Bite & Release

by CORY CYR

  I caved. “I suppose we can go to Nasty’s,” I said, trailing my hand along his arm. He reached over with his other hand and squeezed my thigh.

  “We’ll have fun, I guarantee it.”

  As much as I hoped it would be fun, I just wasn’t as positive of the outcome as he was. I knew Cray would never say anything, but for some reason I felt anxious about going there with Shea. I wanted to please him even as I was trying to figure us out in my head. I couldn’t hide us forever, sooner or later everyone would find out that we are a couple. Are we a couple? Did I want us to be a couple? Regardless, at some point, everyone would know whatever this was.

  *****

  The next day went by much too fast, at least for me. I wasn’t really relishing the idea of Nasty’s tonight. We basically worked alone on the weekends and even though we did, both Shea and I kept everything professional, at least within the confines of the building. The minute we put the closed sign up and locked the front door, all bets were off—he practically had me bent over on his Bronco.

  “It’s a little too cold for car sex, don’t you think?” I joked as he unlocked the car and helped me in.

  “Sex is great, regardless of the temperature,” he said, grinning.

  “Yeah, considering most guys are naturally igloo temp anyway, the cold never seems to affect you, does it?” I snickered, remembering a few of the men I had slept with previously always had to have fans on, even in the dead of winter. I reached over and turned up the heat as high as it would go.

  “Baby, you have to give the car time to warm up, you know that’s cold ass air blowing out there. Come here and I’ll warm you up,” he said, spreading his jacket open and pulling me into him. He was warm and I felt safe being wrapped inside with him. As we cruised up my drive, I needed time to regroup. I tried not to look too morose when I spoke.

  “If it’s alright with you, I think I need some time alone. I want to take a bath and relax.” I looked up at him, my head still resting on his chest, and his sparkling eyes stared down at me.

  “That’s okay, baby. You go do your thing and I’ll go home to shower and change . . .” Shea paused briefly, “unless you want to save water.” I could hear the amusement in his tone, as his eyebrows arched. I pushed away from him and grabbed my purse. As my hand reached the door handle, I felt his hand on my thigh.

  “You’re not upset about going out tonight? I get the feeling, that maybe you want to keep us a secret. Level with me, Ryan . . . are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” My heart cracked slightly with him asking me that, and I turned back towards him.

  “Oh God, no, it’s not that, Shea. I’m worried about what people might think, especially your mom.” I just shrugged. My thoughts seemed to be a jumbled up mess.

  “I know you feel something for me, Ryan . . . and as much as I believe in your talent, I don’t think you’re that good of an actress. Am I just pissing up a rope? Maybe I’m just a distraction until you go back to your glamorous New York life.” Now his tone definitely wasn’t amused. I reached out my hand and caressed his cheek.

  I sighed inside, knowing that my life in New York had been anything but glamorous. If he only knew. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever encountered, not only on the outside, but also on the inside. I could never be ashamed of being by your side. I’m just confused and perplexed. This happened really fast and you caught me off guard, Shea. I just need time to catch my breath.” As I caressed his cheek, my lips found his. At first as I pressed myself to his mouth, he was being difficult. I practically had to pry my tongue through his lips. When he finally gave in to our mutual need to connect and kissed me back, I felt a quiet groan rumble through his chest, and the vibration made my sex pulse and my breath quicken. I quickly pulled myself together; the last thing I wanted right now was to have sex with Shea in the front seat of his Bronco when it was twenty degrees outside. I found the strength I needed and pulled away.

  “Pick me up at seven thirty?” I asked over my shoulder as I pushed the door open. I heard him grumble a response, and then I watched as he backed down the drive. I opened the front door to my house and I quickly turned the heat up, even though the temperature inside was semi-warm. I’d wait about twenty minutes before I ran my bath.

  Once I got upstairs, I proceeded to strip off my clothes in my room and threw on a fluffy fleece bathrobe, then padded to the bathroom and pulled my hair up into a messy bun. It was way too cold to wash my hair, but I highly anticipated the bath. I turned on the water and added some bubble bath. Nothing was more relaxing then taking a bath in my vintage claw foot bathtub. It had been thirteen years since I got to enjoy the tub I had badgered my dad to buy me when I was fifteen. In reality, jumping into the shower would be quicker, but the fact was I did my best thinking while in a bath.

  I strolled back downstairs to the kitchen and poured a small glass of red wine, thankful that the house was beginning to feel toasty. Once I got back upstairs, the tub was nearly full so I turned off the water, set my wine glass down by the tub and turned on the radio on the sink. As I sat in the bathtub, the water was so hot it steamed up the entire room. It had been quite a while since I felt this relaxed. I began to loofah myself gently, and then I leaned back, closing my eyes.

  Guilt washed over me like the bath water. The worry, the fear, everything I was feeling right now was because I was a liar. If I told Shea the truth regarding Garrison, he’d understand why I was so afraid to go out in public, but he’d also leave me. The truth was going to break his heart and pull us apart. He was so wrong—he wasn’t just a distraction. Sure, before I knew Mr. Tall, Dark and Fuckable was him, I was thinking no strings sex, but when it turned out to be Shea, I couldn’t walk away after everything we had shared. I had feelings for him—the kind of feelings that made my insides churn when we weren’t together . . . the kind of feelings that made me feel giddy when I saw him . . . the kind of feelings that made me wet just from a kiss. I groaned, and if I hadn’t been in the bathtub, I probably would have puked, because it all became crystal clear to me.

  I was falling in love with Shea.

  How could I develop these feelings in a week? This wasn’t love, it couldn’t be. This had to be infatuation. He was a very attractive younger man showing an older woman some affection. It was too soon to develop real feelings, wasn’t it? No matter how much I wanted to fight it, disbelieve it and pretend it wasn’t happening, the fact was I did love him. Deep down in my soul, I felt for him what I’d never felt for another man. Now it just wasn’t a lie regarding my marriage, now it was complicated. Shea was no longer the only one who would be wounded by the truth—my heart would also be broken when he left me.

  Chapter EIGHTEEN

  Shea picked me up promptly at 7:30 p.m. I could tell when he walked into the house that he both approved and disapproved my choice of evening apparel. Judging from the scowl on his face and the ticking in his jaw, he looked semi-crazed. I had worn my new jeans—okay, so they were painted on skinny jeans. I had paired them with my new boots and a tight long sleeved pink sweater with a very revealing v neckline. I tied my hair up into a messy high ponytail with some pretty pink earrings. Basically, I’d never wear this out in New York, but here in Fairbanks it was perfect bar attire.

  “I hope you’re planning on wearing your jacket . . . ALL NIGHT long,” Shea emphasized the words “all night.” I just looked at him with amusement.

  “You don’t like my outfit?” I asked, grabbing my purse and coat.

  “Oh, I like it a great deal—unfortunately, so will every fucking guy in the bar, and maybe even some of the girls too,” Shea frowned, his tone clipped.

  I looked at him and chuckled. I put on my coat and started towards the door, and I could sense his reluctance as he followed behind. He was pretty quiet on the fifteen-minute ride to Nasty’s too.

  Being a Friday night, it was pretty packed for a hole-in-the-wall bar. I hadn’t been to this kind of bar since I left. The places in New York, the ones Garrison had ta
ken me to, were considered exclusive piano bars, not watering holes like Nasty’s. But it still hadn’t lost its charm in thirteen years.

  Shea took my hand as we looked for a place to sit. I’m sure my hand was damp because of nerves, not embarrassment in being with him. Shea Michaels was definitely, without a doubt, the hottest man in this bar, and I wasn’t the only one who came to that conclusion. Almost every woman in the place had her eyes glued to my boyfriend’s ass.

  Wow, did I just think that . . . my boyfriend? Me . . . jealous much?

  I pulled off my coat as we squeezed into a booth. Shea got up and strolled over to the bar to get some drinks. As I looked around, my eyes connected with several men critiquing my body with their eyes. I gave them an annoyed look as I sat waiting for Shea. I could hear them whispering about me. In this place, the next vocal sounds I expected were catcalls, and the only difference between the jerks here in this bar and the ones in New York was the type of catcalls. I choked back a snort. None of them could even compare to the man walking towards me. My man was formidable, towering, tattooed and hot as hell. Shea Michaels was a force to be reckoned with. He placed the drinks on the table as he scooted close to me.

  “So, has it changed much?” Shea asked, handing me my drink.

  “Yeah . . . remodeled, more up to date, but other than that, not really,” I replied, looking around. I don’t know why I thought these people would judge us as a couple. Chances are they couldn’t tell our age difference, with Shea looking older and I looked pretty good for thirty-four.

  “Well, holy craptastic, if it isn’t little Ryan come home from the Big Apple.” I looked up at the gravelly sounding voice and the old man standing before me.

  “Gee, look at you Cray, you got old,” I retorted, taking my drink and saluting him as I squeezed out of the booth to give him a hug.

  “Look at you girl. Still beautiful and all grown up. And I mean really grown up,” he said as he patted my ass cheek. I swatted his hand away, chuckling.

  “You’re still a dirty man, but now you’re a dirty old man,” I snickered.

  “So how’d you get lucky and land this woman? You’re not even a man yet,” Cray asked Shea. Shea looked up from his beer, squinting.

  “Trust me, old man, I’m man enough for her.” Shea was chuckling when he looked at me. “Tell him babe.” I’m sure I turned several shades of pink. I just shook my head as I slid back into the booth and continued to sip my drink.

  “Well, I will leave you two love birds alone; someone has to run this joint, so you two stay out of trouble.” Cray touched my hand as he spoke to me. “Ryan, I’m really sorry about your dad. He was a decent guy.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, which is all I could come up with since I didn’t want to be a downer tonight, dwelling on my dad, my husband, and my shit life. I watched Cray walk behind the counter and start talking to other patrons. Shea reached over and grazed his hand across my cheek. He moved into me and lightly brushed his lips across mine.

  “You know that on Christmas Eve, I’ll be twenty-two?” he said, completely out of the blue.

  “And you’re telling me this why?” I asked as I looked at him. Our noses were almost touching and I could feel his warm breath, scented with just a touch of beer. For some reason I found the blend intoxicating.

  “Just making conversation, and I know you’re worried what people might think of our age difference, which is kind of stupid because, frankly, I doubt anyone knows or would even give a damn.”

  “You do know that with every year you age, so do I?” I reminded him, squeezing his thigh. As I did it, I saw a flame come up in his eyes—his baby blues were on fire.

  “Of course I know that, but at some point I’m hoping it won’t matter to you anymore,” Shea responded, placing his hand on my thigh and returning the squeeze. The heat from his touch sent moisture straight into my pussy as I placed my hand in his lap, aligning with his zipper. As far as challenges went, I knew how to win this battle of who could get who more frenzied. I just looked at him with a salacious smile and did the one thing that I knew would get him to cave—I bit my lower lip. I heard a low croak escape him, and thanked God no one else heard it due to the noise in the bar. I just smiled and continued putting pressure on his crotch, which had his cock straining for release. I suddenly heard swear words muttered under his breath. I had hoped what I was doing was pleasurable but he just sounded annoyed. I saw the source of his displeasure when my eyes darted upward and I saw Carrie. Now I was annoyed.

  “Andrew,” Carrie said, putting down her beer on our table, her eyes never leaving Shea.

  “Carrie . . . something you want?” Shea asked in a voice filled with irritation. Carrie just stood there, ignoring the fact that I was sitting beside him. She flipped her hair and stretched her shirt tightly across her breasts.

  “I just thought maybe we could talk,” she said as she wobbled back and forth, obviously intoxicated.

  Shea looked straight at Carrie, and a dark mask covered his features. “Carrie now isn’t a really good time, I’m here with Ryan and, honestly, what would we need to discuss?” Shea paused as he squinted. “How much have you had to drink, Carrie?” Shea looked at me with an I’m sorry expression sketched across his face.

  “I was kind of hoping that maybe we could talk about getting back together,” Carrie slurred as she swayed back and forth on her heels.

  I sat there, mortified. This girl was young, naïve, and stupid. I was beginning to get pissed; the fact that she was blatantly ignoring me was making me come unhinged. I took another sip of my drink and slammed my glass down, startling both Shea and Carrie. She finally acknowledged that I was actually sitting beside him.

  “I think you need to walk away, Carrie.” Shea said icily as he stared at her, his lips pressed firmly as he shook his head in disbelief. Carrie just stood there, blinking as though she hadn’t comprehended the words.

  “Please, sweetie,” Carrie whined, producing some tears to add to the drama. Shea just shook his head again as he squeezed my thigh again to reassure me. He moved to get out of the booth, standing to his full height. Carrie reached out to touch him and Shea took a step back.

  “Carrie, what the fuck is this? We talked about everything, so why are you acting crazy?” Shea asked, trying to keep his voice low as not to attract attention. Carrie continued to move closer until she stood right below his chin.

  “I’m confused . . . I don’t get it. I thought we had something. I mean, I stayed with you for over a year, hoping you’d love me like I love you”

  “Carrie,” Shea spoke as he moved towards her. “We talked about this when we first got together. I never made promises to you; I told you I’m not that guy. What we had was fun, but it wasn’t supposed to mean more than that. I was honest from the get go, so don’t make me feel like the asshole here.” Shea sounded exasperated.

  “I don’t get it, Andrew. I love you. Why would you want her and not me?” Carrie’s glassy eyes glared at me, her face contorted.

  “Because I love her, Carrie, It’s always been her. I’m sorry you made us into something more than it was.”

  “You love her?” Carrie laughed, as she shook her head “This woman? You love her? Jesus, Andrew, you do know that eventually she’ll grow tired of the young boy you are and actually want a man.” Carrie spit out. I moved myself out of the booth and stood up, which now caused other people in the bar to look over and stare. Shea got between us because he could tell by my expression that I was seething.

  “Carrie, please just leave. It’s over—I’m with someone else.” Shea sounded aggravated, but even so, I could still hear in his voice that he didn’t want an altercation with Carrie. They had been seeing each other for a long time and I could tell it caused Shea discomfort that he had hurt this girl.

  “Whatever. I know you’ll be back . . . she’ll,” Carrie accused loudly, pointing to me, “never love you.”

  I could see hurt cross Shea’s face when Carrie said the one th
ing he believed might be true. This was a man who had loved me for years, regardless of his age. It’s what he believed, and he had pulled himself up from terrible abuse and turned out to be a kind and compassionate person. He made me happy, I felt safe with him, and I wanted—no, I needed—him in my life. I moved in front of Shea and came head to head with Carrie.

  “I do love him, Carrie,” I said, watching her eyes jump in shock and her face scowl with resentment. I felt Shea’s hand on my shoulder as he pulled me back into the booth while Carrie walked away. I wasn’t quite ready to look at Shea yet after my announcement, and evidently he didn’t believe it or thought I made it up because he wasn’t saying anything either.

  “Let’s dance, baby,” Shea grabbed my hand, coaxing me to the dance floor. When I had frequented Nasty’s years ago, they had a DJ that played a variety of old-time rock, as well as current music. Nasty’s now had a live band settled in the corner of the bar by the dance floor playing a variety of all types of music. As we made our way through the crowd to the dance floor, the female singer of the band began to sing a song I recognized. Shea took my hand and pulled me into him, tucking my head below his chin as the sounds of a slow love song began. As I listened to the lyrics of “Slowly Falling,” I could feel his heartbeat match my own. I stared up into his face and watched him as his eyes closed and he mouthed the lyrics of the song.

  My emotions tugged my heart at that moment, knowing that everything he felt for me was intensified by what I felt for him. I loved this man, regardless of how it began thirteen years ago, the fact was right here—right now—I was inexplicably in love. Shea pulled me closer into him, bending his head down and murmuring the words of the song in my ear. It felt like we were the only two on the dance floor, even though I was fairly certain other people were watching us. The passion between us was evident. Once the song ended, he put his arm around me and led me back to our table. I bent down and took a sip of my drink, and I felt Shea’s hand kneading my ass. I squealed, jumped from his touch, and quickly slid into the booth. He dropped in beside me, our thighs touching. His fingertips grazed the zipper of my jeans. A rush of liquid melted my core as he stroked the indentation of my lips through my pants. My breathing became tiny gasps, and it was all I could do to keep from coming right then. Without looking at Shea, I took another sip of my drink as I reached over and pressed my hand to his crotch. He was hard as hell and his cock bulged against the fabric of his jeans, and I ran my fingertips across his length with light pressure. I leaned into Shea as I heard his breathing get ragged. My sex was hammering, and my damn jeans were so tight that all Shea could do was use his hands to dry hump my pussy from the outside. I yearned for his fingers and tongue to be delving into my wet folds right now.