by Miss Merikan
Sam was as high as a kite.
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t like his dick. It had too much freckles. Now why don’t you sit down, huh?” She slid her arm over Sam’s and pulled him to the couch.
Sam groaned and kissed her arm. “Mine’s all smooth. You’d like it better.”
There it was, that flush crawling up her neck that he always managed to force onto her body. “Stop being such a pig,” she said and sat him down on the couch. Why was he even here? Didn’t a guy like him have many girls he could bother at the Coffin Nails clubhouse? She noticed it at the party. Many girls waved at Sam, made big eyes at him, and all that. This girl Trudy even told Jolie that she and Sam had an ongoing thing. Was it because Jolie and he hadn’t had sex yet? Was she yet another conquest?
Sam slouched and took another forkful from the middle of the cake. “What did I ever do to you? You don’t like orgasms, or something?”
Jolie’s lips parted, and she found it hard to answer all of a sudden. She never really questioned this. Not admitting you liked a guy all that much, or pretending you didn’t really want to hear about his penis was just a thing you did. It was even beyond what her traditional parents told her. It was what everyone did. Who would she be if she told him stuff along the lines of ‘I want you to drill my pussy right now, ‘cause I’m so wet for you’? She didn’t want to be that kind of person. And then there was Jake. A lesson learned.
“I’ll go get you some coffee, okay? Just stay here.”
Sam’s expression soured even as he munched on the cake, sucking cream off the fork. “Don’t want coffee. Don’t you have, like, lemonade?”
“Okay, sweetie, I’ll get you lemonade,” she said and went for the door. He was getting fucking coffee, and he was drinking it black.
“This cake’s so fucking good. Better than the brownies,” said Sam with a wide, chocolate-stained smile. “And you look like a pinup girl. Perfect wife material.”
Jolie turned around and squinted at him from the door. “You said you weren’t looking for a girlfriend, and now I’m wife material?”
“Just saying, babe.” Sam was eating the cake with so much vigor Jolie half-expected him to start biting off pieces straight from the outer rim.
Of course. She wasn’t wife material for him, just in general. What a ridiculous fucking guy. She slammed the door shut behind her and ran down the stairs to her neighbor’s to get some coffee. She was skimping on buying any, and only drank it at the diner, but Sam needed some caffeine in that ganja-infused bloodstream of his. Pablo was happy to help her out, but he took ages talking, and it always took her a fair amount of time to get away without being rude.
When she finally got back to the apartment, Sam wasn’t on the couch. As expected, the chocolate carnage on a plate that used to contain a cake was on the floor.
“Candy, is that you?” called out Sam from her bedroom.
She could only imagine what mess he was making there. She ran over to find him sitting on the floor in a pile of her underwear and sniffing a pair of her stockings. “Oh, my God! You perv! Let go!” she yelled at him and rushed to his side to take all the lingerie from his sight.
Sam crumpled a pair of panties into a ball and stuffed them down his shirt. “I’ve already felt them on you. It’s a human thing, underwear. We all wear it. Under our clothes.”
Jolie kneeled in the piles of lace, nylon, and cotton, and instinctively reached to Sam’s shirt to get them out, but froze with her hand on his top. “Give them back. This is private stuff.”
“Oh, come on, it’s not like they’re dirty. I bet you do laundry all the time.” He squinted at her.
Jolie had to change her approach, as being serious with a person this high was not a good idea. “Let’s play a game, huh? Let’s play I’ve never ... If someone says, let’s say, ‘I’ve never drank alcohol’, then those who did drink alcohol at some point in their lives, have to give up an item of clothing. Starting with my panties. I start.” This was going to be like taking candy from a baby. She just needed to come up with something Sam surely had done. But it had to be something she hadn’t, since she didn’t want to lie. Maybe it was silly, but this one, and truth or dare, were so firmly attached to her sense of truthfulness that breaking the rules would feel like a betrayal of childhood.
“I’ve never played with cars as a child,” she said and outstretched her hand for the panties stuffed down Sam’s shirt.
Sam scowled, but sat up cross-legged and leaned forward. “My turn,” he said with a grin and wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ve never put on makeup.”
“Hey! You’re breaking the rules. If you’ve played with cars, you need to give back my panties.”
Sam frowned. “You said ‘as a child’. I only play with cars now,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
Jolie pouted at him. “Why not? Were you Amish, or something?” she groaned and took off one of her stockings for what Sam had said.
Sam shrugged and looked to the floor, picking at the ugly grey carpet. “My mother was a bitch. She never bought me the toys I wanted.”
Jolie sighed, surprised by the honest confession. Maybe this was a chance to actually learn something more about Sam?
“I’ve never been in love,” she said and took off her other stocking. She had been so hopelessly in love with Jake she didn’t even notice that he was sponging off her.
Sam blinked, still staring at the carpet, but then his hand slid under his shirt, and he presented the lacy underwear to Jolie. She threw it to the side, still focused on Sam. So the badass did have a heart.
Sam exhaled and chewed on his lip, taking his time to come up with his idea for undressing Jolie.
“I’ve never been fucked,” he said eventually, and the forlorn expression melted from his face like touched by a ray of sunshine.
She glared at him. She was not taking off her top. Skinny-dipping was one thing, but undressing in her bedroom quite another. “Close your eyes,” she said. When Sam followed the order, she slipped off her panties from underneath her skirt. “Done.”
He opened his eyes with what looked like glee and frowned right away. “What did you take off?”
Jolie wiggled her eyebrows and waved her underpants between them with a self-satisfied smirk. Sam’s mouth dropped open, and he might have drooled a little.
“Going commando already?” he asked, tickling her calf with one finger.
“I do have a skirt, you know.” But now, Jolie was starting to wonder if this was such a good idea after all. What if he tickled her more and she’d writhe enough for him to get a glimpse of her pussy? Maybe it would have been better to take off the T-shirt? “I’ve never had sex with someone and then dumped them.”
Sam’s finger started making little circles around Jolie’s anklebone. He didn’t take anything off, and now that Jolie thought about it, her top would go very soon. This was a bad day to wear a sheer bra. She loved the smoothness of it though.
Sam reached back and pulled off his shirt. “I’ve never eaten a live earthworm.”
“Oh, my God! Why would you do that? That’s disgusting.” Jolie laughed, but couldn’t help staring at all that muscle in front of her. So freaking lean with colorful ink all over. It got her so distracted that it was only after a few seconds she realized he said that on purpose to show off a tattoo of two skeletal lovers speeding through the graveyard on a massive bike. And the hot muscle, of course.
Sam shrugged with a sheepish grin. “It was in junior high. You know, guys showing off how butch they are.”
“Oh, yeah? What else did you do to prove yourself?” Jolie raised her eyebrows in amusement. It was hard to imagine who Sam must have been back at school. Probably a rebel who missed half the classes.
He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “I did get into a lot of trouble. You’d probably been a prim and proper student?”
Jolie sighed at the memory. “I wasn’t. I posed for a nude calendar and got expelled. My parents grounded me, but I sti
ll went off to live with my boyfriend.”
Sam crooked his head, his reddened eyes becoming slightly less hazy. “Was that this Jake guy?”
Even hearing his name out loud still hurt. Sam probably thought she was a silly young girl. “Yeah, we had dead-end jobs but made the best of it, saving up for this amazing, life-changing trip to California … You know, my mom always told me that he was a douchebag, but he meant the world to me. He was my first guy, too.” She pouted, realizing she shouldn’t be telling Sam any of this.
He gave her the cow eyes and slowly smoothed her skirt with his hand. “Where is he now?”
That was a good question. “I don’t know. He’s vanished. He’d kept promising me we’d get married, and all that. Now he’s gone, and I have his name on my ass like some fucking loser.”
Sam scowled. “That sucks. Call me if you see him. I mean, when I’m not high anymore.” He chuckled and dragged his hand down his face.
Jolie shook her head and got up, quickly stepping away so Sam wouldn’t get to look up her skirt. “Yeah. I’ll do that. Now come and drink some coffee.” Why did she always feel so attracted to guys who were such obviously bad choices?
She could hear him move behind her, but when the stomping was replaced by rustling of paper, she turned around to find him pulling out a box of paperwork from under her bed. The last thing she wanted was for him to see how useless at life she was and how much debt she was dealing with. “Christ! Put that back! You’re like a big fucking baby. That’s private,” she hissed and slapped his hand.
“Why you so cold today? Didn’t you leave me your card?” He bit his lip and moved toward the kitchen.
Jolie took a deep breath and closed the bedroom door behind him. The worst thing was that not wearing any panties under the skirt was just making her horny. She kept stealing glances at his chest. She wanted to touch it and check how firm it was.
She shouldn’t have left him that card. “I did, but it’s a new day now. I have re-evaluated yesterday’s actions, and I have decided that as a woman of principles, I should really focus on my work now.”
“I hate principles.” Sam swatted her ass with a playful smile.
Jolie groaned and turned on the kettle. “And that is your problem, Sam.” She looked him up and down. “You’re this inked-up hot guy, with”—she touched his stomach—“most probably zero body fat. You’re flirty, cocky, and the next thing I know, I’m gonna have your name on my tit and a fuckload of problems.”
Sam exhaled, and his hand rested right below her breasts. “No name tattoos,” he breathed into her hair, his stomach flexing at the touch.
“Well, I sure hope so, because those things are fucking expensive to cover or remove.” Jolie’s breath hitched, and she bit her lip to fight back the wetness gathering in her eyes.
Sam stilled, gently petting the top of Jolie’s head before letting it slide down to her nape. “Okay,” he whispered, moving to stand behind her. He pulled back her hair, playing with it a bit.
She couldn’t help the warm feeling spreading over her body. It felt so nice to have a big, strong guy next to her. Since Jake disappeared, she’d been so lonely. She could scold Sam for his attitude, but the truth was that she liked his forwardness. It reminded her of the time when she could be wilder, not think of work all the time. Jolie wanted Sam, but on the other hand despised the thought of just being his random hookup. It would be nice to just forget about responsibility for a while and fall into Sam’s arms for a crazy ride, even if it didn’t last forever.
“Now drink this coffee,” she whispered and poured water over four teaspoons of instant coffee.
“I hate coffee,” grumbled Sam, pulling on her hair and maneuvering the strands at the back of her head.
“It’s gonna be good for you, and it will help you sober up.” She slowly turned around to face him. The septum piercing was so hot on Sam. Yet another thing Jolie’s mom would hate.
He looked at his empty hands and eventually accepted the mug. Stepping back, he took exactly three deep breaths and started gulping down the coffee as if it were a hideous syrup he needed for staying alive.
Jolie couldn’t help but start laughing. “You’re not a bad boy at all. You do as you’re told, like a good boy.” She pinched his arm just to get to touch him again. The worst—or best—thing was that his chest and stomach tightened even more as he downed the beverage, finishing it with the most unhappy face ever.
“And you’re a witch, Candy. Next thing I know, you’re gonna be eating me.”
“I have to fatten you up first, right? Here, in my gingerbread house.” She gently stroked along the muscles of his stomach, and with each movement of her hand, his breath became raspier, the warm muscle greeting her through the barrier of skin.
“Won’t happen. Having this body doesn’t come easy.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have eaten half my chocolate cake today,” Jolie teased him with a smile.
“Maybe we should burn some calories?” asked Sam and nudged her in the ribs, but he didn’t otherwise try to get physical. It was almost as if he got the message that there would be no sex today. Jolie licked her lips. And what now? Was she supposed to jump his bones? The sole thought of it made nerves knot up in her stomach. It just wasn’t her nature to make a move.
“I have windows to wash,” she suggested with a nervous chuckle. Sam smelled too fucking good. She needed to put on some panties, pronto, not fantasize about getting fucked on the dining table.
“Okay,” said Sam and gestured toward the window. “You want me to do it? You can judge me on the style when I fall down.”
Jolie’s smile widened, and she walked off to the couch to stop the sparks jumping off Sam’s body from messing with her head. “If you do a good job, I’ll bake you some cookies.”
“Can I get some mints first?” asked Sam, and Jolie’s eyes trailed to the glass box of mint candy on top of the fridge.
“Sure. After all, you’ve had all that horrible coffee.” She laughed and went over to the fridge, standing on her toes to reach the mints. Sam made a few hurried steps toward her, and when she glanced back and saw him scooting to look up her skirt, she almost dropped the candy to the floor.
Gasping, she pulled down her skirt in panic. “Pervert! Go back to work. No mints for you. And if you don’t sober up fast enough, I’ll make you drink more coffee!”
Sam groaned and shook his head, walking off.
“That Candy’s so sour.”
Chapter 5
Bert’s Diner was one of the places Jolie used to think of as the perfect background for her cute clothes, and retro makeup and hair. But then she started working here, and the iconic red seats became dull, as did the checkered floor that gave her a headache after looking at it too much. She became bored with sickeningly sweet ice cream floats with cherries on top and with her boss’s sleazy hot dog jokes. The burgers were made from frozen meat, and the oil used for fries could be changed more frequently. She was feeling a bit disillusioned. Even the cute uniform she loved so much in the beginning was now a bother—the skirt was simply too short and made her constantly aware of her butt. It wasn’t comfortable to be in when waiting on tables and looking relaxed.
The diner had a second floor, and so there were a total of six servers working in rotation, two or three at a time, depending on the time and day. It wasn’t too busy now, so she was mostly getting more coffee for the few patrons who were already in, sitting with their newspapers or talking over burgers.
Bert, the owner of the diner was like a movie character in his own right. He owned an array of pastel suits and retro cardigans and strutted around with a pipe he never smoked. All and any sexual harassment he dismissed as ‘being in character’. He wasn’t that horrible, and never messed with tips, so Jolie went with it, keeping her comments to rolling her eyes and gossiping with the other female staff.
With his hair in a perfectly pomaded duck tail and dressed in a canary-yellow cardigan combined with gre
y slacks, he could as well break out into song and dance to finish off his Broadway look. Jolie smiled at him nevertheless, as she was rearranging the pie display.
“Good job, Jolie, keep it up,” Bert said in a jolly manner. “Loving the victory rolls.” He pointed to her hair, and Jolie couldn’t help but smile wider. She was still perfecting this hairstyle, so it was nice for someone to notice.
One of the customers in the back of the room gestured for her with an empty cup, so she promptly excused herself and snatched a pitcher of coffee, rushing over to the last booth in the aisle. The man gave her a small smile, and the huge gap between his front teeth made her look at the coffee. She didn’t want to stare. He’d been there for a while, and he didn’t have anything to read, so maybe his date was late?
“Here you go, sir. Is there anything else you need? We have freshly baked pies,” she said, but he shook his head.
“Maybe later.”
“Just let me know if there’s anything else I can help with,” she added, and since she already had the pitcher, she also refilled the coffees of two young women sitting nearby. She would have her break soon, and she couldn’t wait to take off the high heels, which were already becoming a pain. It seemed to be getting worse with every passing week. In fact, she was already considering buying flats, even though she wasn’t sure she could excuse the expense after purchasing Iron Fist high heels for the job. Those were supposed to provide good support for the leg and look amazing, but evidently, that was only the case if you worked at a desk.
She got back to perfecting the dessert display when the bell at the door jingled. She turned around to have a look at who it was and saw an elderly man with a long white beard. Just seeing his large, red nose made her think of Christmas, but there was nothing ‘merry’ in his expression. In fact, he took one look at her, then turned around and left. Her lips parted, and she straightened up half-shocked, half-offended. What was up with that? She remembered he actually spoke to her at the party a few days ago, and now he was just running off without a word? What did she ever do to him?
