by Lesley Jones
So yeah, I was a little lost for a moment as everyone fell into step, seemingly knowing the moves by heart.
Ashley moved from beside me to in front of me.
“Eyes on my feet Rock Star. Just copy what I do.” She winked at me and I did as I was told. As soon as I picked it up, she stepped back in beside me and we danced along, side by side, for the rest of the song. It was the most fun I’d had outside the bedroom in a long, long time, and I couldn’t wipe the big fat cheesy grin off my face.
My cheeks ached because I was smiling so much. This girl was like a breath of fresh air.
The song finally ended and Ashley gave me a round of applause.
“Not bad, Rock Star. You’re a fast learner.”
“Oh, you have no idea, baby.” I said at the same time I pulled her into me and moved us both to the sound of Womack and Womack’s, ‘Teardrops.’
I kissed along the curve of her neck and whispered into her ear, “Come home with me?”
“No,” she replied.
I kept us moving while trying to think of what I could say or do to get her back to my place. It wasn’t just the fact that I really wanted to fuck her, even though she was the reason for the painful hard-on I’d had for most of the night. It was because I just didn’t want the night to end.
What the fuck was happening. I sounded like a big fucking girl. I looked over Ashley’s shoulder and around for my brothers, or Maca. I spotted them all together, but it looked like George and Maca were arguing. He stormed off, grabbed one of the women that was all over him earlier and started dancing with her.
“What’s the matter? You lost interest coz I’ve knocked you back?” Ashley asked.
“No, baby. I’m just watching my sister and best mate argue.” She turned her head in the direction I was looking.
“Shit, George will kill her.” She stated as we watched the woman put her hands all over Maca, before going in for a kiss.
“Looks like she’s about to.” I said.
We watched as Georgia grabbed the woman by the hair.
“Oi, you’re taking the piss now, love.” Georgia shouted at the woman. I was surprised when she gave up without a fight. She called something out over her shoulder, but my sister and Maca seemed to be oblivious to it as they stared at it each other like the pair of weirdo’s that they were.
Gloria Estefan’s, ‘I don’t wanna lose you’ started to play and Maca and G started to dance.
“Looks like they made up and no blood was spilt.” Ashley said.
I looked down into her blue-brown eyes. I slid my palms over her hips and up to her armpits, back down and over her arse.
“Come home with me, Ashley. Not to fuck ... well, not unless you force me, but just to talk.” She gave me the sweetest smile, kissed my cheek and said into my ear, “Get me drunk, Rock Star, and I might think about it.”
Two hours later, I was holding her hair back as she threw up down my toilet. I’d got her drunk, all right. So drunk, in fact, that I had to carry her from the club, out the emergency exit, and into the car that Dave, one of our drivers, was waiting outside for us in. About halfway home, Ash threw up all over me, herself, and the car.
Dave helped me get her up to my place, but I made him leave before I stripped her out of the little silver dress she was wearing. I grabbed a T-shirt of mine and pulled it over her head as quickly as I’d pulled her dress off ... almost.
What? She was braless and only wearing a black thong underneath. I’m a bloke, for fuck’s sake. Of course I had a little look. Twice or twelvety-two times.
Once the T-shirt was in place, I’d taken off her thong, purely because as good as it looked, that thing had to be fucking uncomfortable. I pulled a pair of my boxers up her legs and managed to get them in place without copping an eyeful once, despite how hard I’d tried.
I laid her on my bathroom floor with her head resting on a towel while I stripped out of my clothes and jumped into the shower. I dried myself quickly when I got out and pulled on a T and boxers myself.
I was just done with loading all of our clothes into the washing machine and turning it on when I heard her heaving. By the time I got back to my bathroom, she’d thrown up all over herself and my bathroom floor.
I ran my hand over my head and then over the stubble that was forming on my chin.
“What the fuck am I gonna do now?” I said to myself out loud. I didn’t want to be in this position. I had an unconscious girl in my home and I’d already stripped her clothes off once, and now I was gonna have to do it again and this time I was gonna have to shower her too, as it was in her hair and every fucking where.
I paced for a few seconds, then decided to call Jim. It might be four thirty in the morning, but I’d rather listen to Jimmie complain that I’d woken her than be accused of something I hadn’t done ... again.
I got the phone off my bedside table and dialled their number while stepping back inside the bathroom. I folded a clean towel and put it under her head, wedging the phone between my ear and my shoulder as it rang.
I had this overwhelming feeling of panic creeping up my spine. I wasn’t sure if I was worried about being accused of something, or if it was the fact that I wanted to look after her. No, fuck that, I didn’t want to, I needed to ... me, Marley Layton. I’d lived my life following the two F rule. I fucked ‘em and forgot ‘em, and as much as I wanted very much to fuck Ashley, the fact that I needed to make sure she was okay was overriding any horny thoughts I was having.
Len answered on the fifth ring with, “This better be a fucking emergency.”
“Len, its Marls.”
“Oh fuck, what’ve you done?”
“Fuck you, arsehole. I haven’t done anything.”
“What the fuck d’ya want then? The birds are fucking singing here and I’ve only just got to bed.”
“I’ve got Ashley here at my place.”
I heard him exhale, or inhale, I wasn’t sure which, but it went on for an exaggerated length of time.
“Marls, I swear to God, if you’ve upset that girl, George, Jim, and Mother will have your balls.”
“Mother? What the fuck has she got to do with anything?”
“Ash works for her and Georgia.”
Well fuck, she hadn’t mentioned that.
“I haven’t upset her. She’s out cold on my bathroom floor right now, covered in her own spew.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Len uttered his favourite response to most things I told him. I could hear Jimmie asking who it was in the background.
“Len, put Jim on. I need to talk to her. “The anxiety that was snaking it’s why up my spine was now bubbling in my chest and I paced as I heard Len passing the phone over to Jim.
“Please don’t fuck my friend, Marls. She’s had a tough enough life as it is, she doesn’t need you doing your usual fuck and run and breaking her heart.”
“Jim, she’s been sick and it’s everywhere. I don’t know what to do. What if she wakes up and she thinks I touched her? They won’t believe me again, Jim. I’m not a rapist, but the papers won’t care, they’ll write shit about me again.”
I felt like I’d been hit with a ton of bricks. The panic, hurt, and anger I’d felt at the comments made in the press and by others in our industry when Haley White made her accusations came clawing their way to the surface. I’d shrugged it all off at the time, had another drink, snorted another line, but it hurt. It fucking hurt and I didn’t want to feel like that again, not ever.
“Marley, calm down, babe...”
“I’m not a fucking rapist, Jim. She spewed up over her party frock so I took it off her and put it in the machine. I put her in one of my T-shirts and a pair of boxers, but she’s done it again and it’s all in her hair this time. It’s fucking everywhere, but I never touched her, Jim, I swear I never touched her.”
I was crying like a fucking princess, I was crying.
What the fuck was that all about?
“Marls, listen to me. You’re not
a rapist, and no one thinks that. She doesn’t think that. Now calm the fuck down.”
I took a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. I could actually feel my balls and dick shrivelling and being replaced with a vagina over my breakdown.
“I love you, Marley Layton. You’re a good person, and don’t you ever forget that. Now, go run a shower, get Ash in it and wash the puke out of my friend’s hair. If you have to take her top off, try and do it in a non-pervi way.”
“Jim, she’s out fucking cold, dead to the world. I might like things a bit kinky, but I’m not into fucking girls who are passed out, I can assure you.”
“That’s good to hear, Marls. Now, go turn on the shower. I’ll stay on the line in case she wakes up and freaks out.”
After putting the phone down on the side of the sink, I turned on the shower and lifted Ashley up and sat her down again in the corner to let the water run over her. She tilted her face up into it and mumbled a few things that I couldn’t understand. Leaving the boxers on, I pulled the T-shirt over her head and washed her hair, her arms, and her legs. Her tits were staring me in the face. My arm and even my hand brushed against them a couple of times. I had a hard-on the whole time and felt like the worst person on earth. She was fucking gorgeous. Even in this sorry state of hers, she did things to me.
I wrapped her in the biggest towel I could find and carried her out to my bed and laid her down.
“She’s clean. She woke up a bit, but wasn’t making any sense.” I told Jimmie when I got back on the phone.
“Okay, well done. Put her in another one of your T-shirts. Give her hair a comb and tie it back if you can find an elastic band, and keep her lying on her side. She’s gonna be mortified in the morning so go easy on her, Marls. She puts on a big brave front, but she’s soft as shit and has a heart of gold under that mouthy bird she makes out to be.”
“Jim?” I whisper quietly.
“What Marls?”
“I like her. I mean, like ... I really like her.”
My mouth feels as dry as a nuns mildred as I try to get the words out. (Sorry God, nuns, and all you religious types, but you get what I’m saying here, right?)
“I know Marls. I knew it as soon as I saw the way you looked at her in the club. Don’t fuck this up. Now go sort her out and get some sleep. Love ya.” She hung up before I said any more.
I went and found a comb and combed her long blonde hair as best I could, then dressed her once again in a T-shirt and boxers of mine.
I laid her on her side, facing me, and watched her sleep as my thoughts raced, my stomach churned, and my heart? My heart did not have a clue what had just hit it.
This little blonde thing had gotten to me. I’d looked after her, washed and dried her, made sure she was safe, and I wanted nothing more in return, other than to get to spend more time with her.
And that scared the shit outta me.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
1989
I was dragged back into consciousness by the sound of someone throwing up.
Where the fuck did we go last night for Maca to have drunk enough to be in this state?
I rolled over and pulled my pillow over my head, and realised in an instant that the sound was coming from my bathroom, not Maca’s.
Shit.
Ashley.
I jumped out of bed and ran to my bathroom, stopping in the doorway as I watched her arch over my toilet as she sat on her knees in front of it. All the while, she was trying to hold her hair back and I remembered that Jimmie told me I should tie her hair in an elastic band.
I ran to the kitchen and pulled open the junk drawer. You know, that one that every house has, filled with elastic bands, Blu-Tack, paper clips, batteries, pens, and condoms? I rifled through it all until I found an elastic band big enough to hold all of her hair, then I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before rushing back to my bathroom.
Her elbows were propped on the toilet seat, her arms crossed, and her head resting on top of them. Without saying a word, I pulled her hair back and attempted to wrap the elastic band around it. I didn’t miss the fact that she stiffened as soon as I touched her. I rubbed her back a few times.
“There’s a bottle of water there, thought you might need it.” She turns her head and looks at me kneeling next to her.
“Oh God,” she groans.
“Almost.” I tell her as I wink and hold my hand out, as if to shake hers. “Most call me Marley. They save the God title for when I’m making their toes curl.”
She blinked those big blue-brown eyes at me before rolling them. “You’re such a dick, Rock Star.”
Yeah, I had to agree. Why the fuck did I just make that toe curl comment?
She unscrewed the cap on the water bottle, tilted her head back and swallowed. I couldn’t take my eyes from her throat. The way it moved as she swallowed each mouthful, the way her lips wrapped around the neck of the bottle ...
I’m kneeling in front of her, in just a pair of boxers, and I have a big fat chub going on and no way to hide it.
I’m fucked. Totally and utterly fucked.
“I’m probably one of the few people in the world that actually wished this was all a dream, and I hadn’t really woken up in Marley Layton’s bed.”
Her voice brought me back from imagining all the ways I’d like to see her swallow and I thanked the god of hard-ons ... Erectimus? I think that was his name, or was that a transformer? Erectimus Prime? Anyway, I thanked him, the god of hard-ons, that rather than making eye contact with me, she still had her head tilted back and was staring up at the ceiling.
“Well, cheers.” I told her, feeling a little hurt. Who the fuck doesn’t wanna wake up in my bed? Is she still drunk? I wonder, does she know, exactly, who I am?
She moved her head and her eyes to meet mine. I’m not sure if they were glassy from her puke fest, or if she was actually about to cry and once again, I was hit with that unnerving need to make sure she was okay.
“Please tell me we didn’t fuck?”
“Wow, are you for fucking real right now?” That hurt, and I hated that it was obvious in my tone. I fucking hate that what she just asked bothered me so much.
“You’re Marley Layton. I’m not a part of your world. I work for your mum and your sister, who also happens to be one of my best friends, the other being Jimmie, your future sister-in-law. I don’t want to be the dinner table conversation next time you all get together, and I don’t want you all talking about how easy I was and what a slut I am. Despite what people think they know about me, I’m not that type of girl.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks and I couldn’t stay put. “C’mere.” I whispered and pulled her into my lap. I rested my back against the bath and pulled her into my chest, stroking her back and her hair as she cried.
“Nothing happened last night, and even if it did, I would never talk about it with my family.” Although that could’ve actually been a bit of a lie. We did tend to share in my family.
“So how come I’m wearing your clothes?”
Ah shit. And it was all going so well.
“Well, here’s the thing. You sorta threw up everywhere, and I do mean everywhere; in the back of the car, over your posh party frock, over me―”
“Oh fuck.” She cried, burying her face in my chest.
“Again, feel free to just call me Marley.” That earned me a dig in the ribs from her dainty little fist.
“So, did you undress me? Please tell me you called Jimmie or George to do that.”
“I called Jim.” I reassured her and felt her relax against me instantly, but I know it’s not gonna last.
“Thank fuck for that.” She sighed out the words in relief.
“And she stayed on the line while I stripped you off, showered you, washed your hair, and dressed you again, for the second time.”
She makes loud, over exaggerated sobbing noises. “Noooo. Noooo. Why did I get in such a state? What happened? The last thing I remember is us dancing.�
��
“Yeah, and then you told me to get you drunk and that you might think about letting me shag ya.”
“Well whooo hooo, go you. You get top marks for getting me drunk, Rock Star.” She said sarcastically, her face still buried against my chest.
“Thanks.” I told her and she held up her hand for me to high five her, and I did. Then I did something that I’d never, ever done with a girl before. I laced my fingers through hers and held her hand.
My dick stirred and I cringed. “Ash?”
“What?”
“My arse is going numb and my back hurts. You ready to go back to bed? I’ll make you a cup of tea or coffee, and some toast if you feel up to it.”
“The thought of making me breakfast is what’s making your dick hard right now, Rock Star?”
Busted!
My mouth dried up again and I decided to try this untested concept of total honesty with a girl.
“No, I’ve got a hard-on because you’re sitting in my lap with your tits pushed against me and your arse pressing against my dick. And also because you’re fucking gorgeous.”
“I’m also not fucking stupid,” she mumbled from my chest.
“What? I can’t understand what you’re saying with your face down there. Although, if you were to dip lower, I’d understand perfectly―every fucking word.”
“Omit eth.” Is what I thought she’d said.
“Nd, er a king ervert.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re saying down there, baby, but if you’re feeling a bit better, I’m gonna stand you on your feet. You should drink the rest of that water, and feel free to use my toothbrush. Then either come find me while I make us some breakfast, or wait in bed and I’ll bring it up to you.”
I stood her up on her feet, thanking that Erectimus bloke again that she just stared down at the tiled floor, her arms wrapped around her.
“Why the fuck won’t you look at me?” I asked her.
“Vomit breath,” she said more clearly.
“Ah, that’s what you were saying. What was the second part that I didn’t quite catch?” I asked, now fully aware of what it was she’d called me.
