“Someone’s happy. Any plans for tonight?” she asked, emptying the filter on the coffee machine.
“Just out with a friend, you?” I questioned, untying my apron and trading it in for my jacket.
“I’m here till eight. I’ll probably crash as soon as I get home.”
She offered me a small wave and proceeded to serve a new customer as he entered, leaving me bent over in half whilst I attempted to tighten my shoelaces. I had nearly succeeded when I heard the cocky snarl of Jack’s tone a few tables away.
“Nice arse, Maya.”
Ugh!
“You shouldn’t be looking,” I insisted, no longer in the mood for his shit.
“Hard not to when it’s in my face,” he smiled, shooting me his signature smirk.
Tall, dark and handsome, he really was gorgeous but no amount of charm or charisma excused the fact that he was married. Had his wife not shown up that night he was taking me out, goodness knows what would’ve happened, and I’d have somehow felt responsible for it had I followed through with my plans to sleep with him.
“Enjoy your weekend, Jack,” I said, remaining civil for the most part, whilst GTFO-ing as fast as possible.
Get the friggggg out!
That’s what Sasha always advised when a situation turned sour, and I couldn’t agree more in this instance.
Message typed. Sent to Luke.
CHAPTER FIVE
Drunken Mistakes
Whilst pulling furiously at my ever-riding-up black skirt, I entered Hoes & Bros with a sense of anticipation and the smell of jäger attacking my nostrils. The dance floor was full; the phrase ‘packed like sardines' certainly springing to mind and although Luke and I found it increasingly difficult to manoeuvre around the many sweaty bodies, we proceeded to push our way through the crowd nevertheless; with only one destination in mind- the bar.
"Four shots of tequila and two Budweisers please, mate," ordered Luke from behind, struggling to be heard over the pounding music.
Jace nodded his head in understanding and set about prepping our drinks, catching me looking.
"Where's the other one tonight?" he asked, indeed referring to Sasha, which in turn, made me smile.
I instantly felt the corners of my mouth twitch in mischievous delight; caused by the conscious decision I made to wingwoman my best friend.
"Not out I'm afraid. I'm sure she'll be pleased to know you were asking after her though," I said, or rather shouted; much to the music’s convenience.
He gently handed over our beers and with wide eyes, smiled that knicker throwing smile of his.
That’s right, not only will his smile drop knickers, it will have you throwing the damn things away for life!
"Why would me asking after her please her?" he smirked, thankfully participating in the playful banter I had set up for us both.
"Why don’t you call her and ask," I grinned, slyly handing over one of Sasha's business cards.
Her boss, Harold Hallowitz, had insisted she get them for the easy distribution to important clients. Thankfully, Jace took it no questions asked, and placed it carefully in his back pocket, sending a friendly wink my way whilst doing so. His attention then returned back to his work as he proceeded to pour out our four shots.
"That'll be twenty-five, sixty pal," he yelled to Luke, whose front was currently pressed against my back.
He passed him the cash and pulled at the hem of my skirt when I attempted to bring it further down.
"Stop pulling at it. You're not flashing anything," he ensured, embracing his amusement.
I craned my neck to enable myself a better angle to reply.
"I can't help it, I feel like I'm showing my underwear to the world. I can't believe I let you talk me into wearing this," I pouted, making sure he could see clearly just how unhappy I was about it. “You know I’m a jeans kind of girl,” I added, smiling through his insistence to smirk.
Luke had come around to mine for seven as planned and insisted I change my conservative outfit, which according to him, was something his grandmother would’ve worn back in the 80’s. He recommended the black skirt and glittery tank top combo, finishing the entire ordeal off with a much appreciated suggestion of “I would.”
He always did have such a way with words.
"Relax, you're not showing anything and besides, you have a fantastic arse, Crofton," he delighted, cracking me right across it.
The action caused me jolt forward and as I ended up slamming my stomach into the bar on an elegant groan, I cursed my best friend for all that he was. Luke, having seen none of this, simply leaned over me to grab his drink; the feel of his groin pressing into my arse certainly bringing me back to reality. Blushing furiously (and thanking the high heavens above for the low lighting) I subtly shrugged off my embarrassment and followed suit by taking hold of my first shot.
"To Maya's fantastic arse," he marvelled, holding up the tequila glass to toast the air surrounding us.
His jaw widened into a full blown grin and I instantly smiled, joining in with his celebratory suggestion by singing a happy, “cheers!” The fiery liquid made quick leeway on sliding down my throat and whilst warming me from the inside out, I jumped when the sensation of cool breath stung at my bare arm.
“One more, Maya,” he whispered, holding up the second shot and daring me with his eyes, so perfectly blue.
Yellows, purples and reds all combined together to create a firework of explosions in his ocean-like iris’s and I couldn’t have been any more drawn to them at that moment.
"This time, we toast to my arse because I’m feeling left out,” he laughed, bootie bopping me like it was the most natural thing to do in the world.
“You damn tease!” I replied, necking the second shot and noticing its intense taste that time around.
“You ready to boogie, Crofton?” he asked, finishing off his own shot, but not without dribbling slightly.
“Honestly Luke, who even says ‘boogie’ anymore?” I giggled, using my thumb to wipe away the fallen liquid on his chin.
His gaze followed my actions and darkened when I brought the pad of my thumb up to my mouth and licked away the tiny droplet of tequila. He visibly swallowed, and although nothing was said, his eyes spoke a thousand words.
I needed to do something!
“Come on then, Anderson. Let’s bloody well boogie!”
~~~
If I thought the bar was busy, I’d dread to think what the dance floor would fall under, category wise. People everywhere were pressed up to one another and although fully air conditioned, I was sweating buckets. On more than one occasion, I collided with Luke and he was constantly having to sturdy me, which had absolutely nothing to do with the two jäger bombs we did together. I swore my alcohol intake was getting worse, and the fact that I was seeing two of everyone was proof enough I needed to pace myself.
"You okay?"
Once again, Luke reached out and latched his hands on my hips, offering me a means of support which I was extremely thankful for. As per usual, he was handling his drink much better than me.
“All good. I just didn’t know you were a twin, that’s all,” I laughed, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.
The joke wasn’t even funny and only seemed to further worry Luke, who looked at me as though I was mad. I quickly grabbed onto his shirt and shook him a little; keen to prove that while I was drunk, I was not at the stage of needing to be carried to bed just yet.
“I’m fine, Luke. You okay?” I asked, reaching up on my tiptoes to speak my enquiry down his ear.
At the exact moment I prepared to come back down, a heavy body slammed into my back and harshly shoved me forward. I tried to suppress it, but my moan of disapproval spewed straight out and although undergoing intense pain as a result of what quite frankly felt like a cracked rib, I was mortified to discover it sounded sexual. Luke’s already firm grip on me tightened as I attempted to breathe th
rough the discomfort and only once it was too late did I realise I was practically panting down his ear whilst still attached to him at the groin. I hastily pulled away and upon doing so, managed to accidentally graze my lips along his rough jawline, pulling a reaction from him in the form of a deep growl simmering at the roots. I honestly had no idea how to react, so I simply looked up and met his eye.
Big Mistake!
His gaze was curious, yet firm; not to mention incredibly hot, which dare I say suited him rather well. I’d never known what was meant by the term ‘lustful eyes’ up until that point. I had to remind myself that despite the fact my entire body was reacting to Luke, he was my childhood best friend and not some good looking man I’d just met on a night out.
“Maya Crofton, did you just stage three me?” he asked; voice tremoring with every word.
His tone was neither light nor humorous and even though my instinct was encouraging me to deny everything, my brain couldn’t function a coherent sentence. I began to shake my head out of protest and instantly came to regret it; feeling slightly dizzy from the alcohol and the events that had taken place in the past sixty seconds.
“Take me home,” I blurted out, intending for my request to come across as a demand to my mental wellbeing and not an invitation to my sexual desires.
It would appear Luke, being Luke, took it to mean the latter.
How convenient.
“What? You want me to take you home?” he asked; shock, disbelief and excitement all rolled in together to create one hell of a high pitched tone.
I closed my eyes in an attempt to escape the mass unravelling going on around me and felt Luke’s arm snake around my back as he continued to talk to me.
“Hey, hey, hey. Are you feeling okay?” he questioned, gently pulling on my chin to grab my attention.
I hesitantly opened my eyes and before I could rationalise what I was doing, pressed my lips to his in a clumsy kiss that made little to no sense. I had no idea what possessed me to do such a thing, but as I slipped further into the enjoyment of his velvet lips against my own, I couldn’t seem to pull away for the life of me. Literal fireworks shone overhead in the form of night club lighting, all awhile Luke took possession of my mouth in a caress I was sure neither one of us would recover from. He owned me with that one exchange and his hands- warm and safe- came up to cup my face, while his tongue subtly grazed past my bottom lip. I instinctively pressed myself closer to his body and relished the feel of his rock hard frame against mine in what was absolutely the most intimate position I’d ever encountered with him. It was hard to explain the cocktail of emotions that swam around in my head as I practically tongue fucked my childhood best friend in the middle of Hoes & Bros with little to no consideration of our surroundings. It was strange how natural it felt to connect with him that way, and as the ever growing feeling of his erection poked at my lower stomach, I could only assume he was experiencing a similar enjoyment.
“Luke.”
I ground out his name on a breathless sign, not knowing why.
“What? What is it? What’s wrong?” he questioned, urgently expressing his concerns.
His rosy stained, slightly swollen lips, glimmered with moisture under the lights and sweet mother of all things sinful, if I said it didn’t turn me on I’d be lying.
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, I just-” I paused before continuing. “I like kissing you,” I added, feeling shy for having said so.
“Then why’d you stop?” he smirked, joining us yet again.
This time, I moaned into his mouth as I freely dragged my fingers through his silk-like hair, stopping twice when his tangles got caught up in my grip. His expert motion played havoc on my insides, and just as I was getting into it, he pulled away, leaving me with a feeling of emptiness.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he pleaded, pulling slightly on my arm when I failed to make a move.
“Where?” I asked, dumbfounded by all the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
“Home. I’ll take you home. My home,” he explained, bringing his head closer to mine. “With me. Please?” he continued, swaying my decision with one look of pure filth.
It took all of two seconds for me to come up with the very mature conclusion of, “Fuck it; when in Rome!” drunkenly so. I never did understand what was meant by that saying. Was it considered normal behaviour to dry hump your best friend in Rome? Was going back to his place to have sex fine in Rome? And was acting on total impulse with no regard to the consequences encouraged in Rome? And why the fuck was I suddenly in Rome?
“Okay,” I replied, physically squealing when Luke all but swept me off my feet and carried me towards the open exit where I was subject to the harsh stab of October air.
I definitely wasn’t cold at the beginning of the night and I suddenly stopped Luke with an insistent yank of the arm, enjoying the way his muscles rippled perhaps a little too much.
“My jacket, it’s in the cloakroom,” I cried, thankful for my handbag which carried all the essentials; phone, keys, polos.
“Fuck the jacket, I’ll buy you a new one,” he insisted, carrying on with his wayward journey.
“But I’m freezing, Luke and I love that jacket,” I protested, wiggling slightly to emphasise my displeasure.
We made it to the top where he careful placed me down and in one smooth motion, wrapped me up in a hug that had me warm within seconds.
“I’ll come back for it tomorrow,” he ensured, pulling me along the deserted path to flag down a taxi. "Camden, please, mate. Castlehaven Road," he instructed, reeling off his address in North London to the tired looking driver.
We both piled in on clumsy legs and the second my arse hit the leather seat, my mouth was once again taken hostage by Luke’s ever impressive one, nibbling away like nobody’s business. Like a man starved, he feasted on my lips until the soft flesh became numb and the feeling of human contact ceased to exist. Not that, that stopped him, mind you. He merely made work on my neck, and chomped down on what I assumed to be the mother of all love bites until our driver decided to intervene.
"I have a no sex policy in my car. Cool it, you two,” he stated, making me laugh.
I had no idea who this stranger was, but his ability to cock-block was really rather impressive, if not slightly annoying. I’d say Luke was most definitely in agreement if his ever displeasing moan was anything to go by.
“Drive faster then,” he mumbled, in no way impressed by our chauffeur, made worse by my insistence to giggle at the situation.
I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure but I swore the driver purposefully slowed down after that and travelled at a snail’s pace through the busy streets of London. It would seem my best friend was somewhat impatient, and I noticed the clock on the dashboard- which was a cross between exactly that and a holding place for McDonald’s cups- displayed a rather pathetic 11.52pm, meaning we didn’t even make it to midnight.
“Here’s fine. Keep the change,” insisted Luke, all but throwing a twenty at the man and narrowly missing a face plant to the floor on his way out.
He didn’t hang around before dragging me along with him and before I knew it, I was delightfully sandwiched between his lean body and his front door, patiently waiting for him to locate his keys.
"Luke, hurry up!" I strained, getting increasingly frustrated by his inability to open a bloody door.
“I’m trying, the thing won’t budge!” he insisted, jolting forward and slamming us both into the solid object.
Thankfully, our added body weight seemed to encourage the thing to open and on a disgruntled grunt, we both fell through, laughing like the drunken idiots we were. Before given the chance to sober up, I was then harshly shoved against his far side wall and dragged along his lean body; legs instantly wrapping around his narrow hips. I wasn’t thinking rationally in the slightest. My brain couldn’t seem to connect to my body in a way that would see me stop. Luke was skilled, not to mention incredibly sexy. He was also my best fr
iend though and the thought of following through with this was both terrifying and thrilling in equal measures. Once we did this, there was no real way of going back. It seemed like a good idea, but I’d no doubt regret it tomorrow.
“Bedroom. Now!” I gasped, encouraging him with a dramatic squeeze of my legs and hoped that in doing so, I was able to speed up his actions.
Of course, he was more than happy to oblige and before I knew it, I was situated in the centre of his spacious bedroom, having my minimal layers peeled off one by one. First, my skirt was removed, followed by the swift departure of my sequined top, leaving me in only my underwear, though happy about it, I was not. Why I felt the need to fashion my white cotton knickers and baby blue, cupcake bra was beyond me.
Damn laundry day!
“Cupcakes,” he smiled, fingering the material's edge with his soft touch and smirking his way through each goosebump that appeared on my non-existent cleavage.
“Perhaps my subconscious mind knew this would happen tonight,” I whispered, clumsily yanking on his jeans to rid the things.
Thankfully, I managed to distract him from my poor choice in attire and was able to continue with my wayward journey, insistently so. We both stumbled our way towards his double bed, falling onto the neatly folded sheets with impressive precision, given we were both moderately shitfaced and about as elegant as two six-year-olds high on sugar.
“Lift,” he demanded, reaching around me to unhook my pathetic excuse of a bra and soon disposed of the monstrosity across the room.
In doing so, I was left exposed in the most vulnerable way imaginable, prompting the beginnings of what felt like the wildest of blushes to spread across my cheeks in an unforgiving pursuit to further embarrass me. It was normal to experience such self-consciousness when naked before any man. Though given my relationship with Luke, it was utterly crazy. The last time I saw him naked was when I accidentally walked in on him showering at Uni last year. Even then, I’d been too shocked to really appreciate his lean form and perfect muscles.
That being said, as he sunk both teeth into his lower lip and lightly stroked my inner thigh, I found he was able to build me up as far as pent up sexuality went, limiting me to a moaning mess.
My Not So One Night Stand Page 4
