Revue

by K. M. Golland

  “One more drink,” he said, holding up his pointer finger.

  I’d agreed to one more drink the last five times he asked, and I was feeling rather tipsy. “Brad, no. We need to get back. The bus leaves early tomorrow.”

  “Fuck the bus.”

  “No, we need the bus. The bus is good. The bus gets us to places.” I gave the bartender a cut-of-the-throat motion to indicate we weren’t having any more drinks. He nodded.

  “The bus smells,” Brad groaned, tipping back the last of his scotch.

  “That’s because you sit next to Dimps.”

  “Well, I’d sit next to you if fuckhead wasn’t always trying to hump your leg.”

  I gave him a stern look. “Brad. Don’t even go there.”

  He picked up his empty glass and frowned at it. “Sorry. I know you like him.”

  “Liked,” I corrected.

  Lies.

  Yes, it was true, I still liked Josh despite the fact that he was currently the meat in a threesome sandwich. I practically dry-retched. Just the very thought of it made me feel ill—Josh being ridden while he licked another woman’s pussy.

  “You gonna be sick?”

  Turning toward Brad, I found him eyeing me nervously. “If I think of Josh and what’s he’s doing right now, then yes.”

  “Then don’t think of him.” His voice was bordering sarcastic, but equally resolute.

  “Easier said than done.”

  I refocussed on my empty glass as Brad set his down and swivelled on his stool to face me. “You really like him, don’t you?”

  “Liked,” I said again, correcting him for the second time.

  “Like/liked, same thing.”

  “No it’s not. One is present, one is past. One is current, one is over. One is—”

  “Cori,” he interrupted.

  “What?”

  “You’re just hurt. He’s an arsehole. Always will be. And if he couldn’t keep it in his pants for you, then he never will.”

  My head tilted to the side, and at first I thought it was because my body was deciding to go to sleep. But it wasn’t. I was just confused. “What does that mean …‘if he couldn’t keep it in his pants for me’?”

  “It means he liked/likes you, too. He’s never given two fucks about any woman. Was happy to just pass them over when he was done.”

  I practically dry-retched again.

  He continued. “But with you … if any of us so much as look at you, he’s ready to go all Hulk on us. Bugs doesn’t do that. Bugs has never done that. So yeah, the dickhead likes you.”

  Sliding off my seat to stand, I was angry and pissed off that I was powerless, that Josh made me powerless even when he wasn’t around.

  “What am I supposed to do with that, Brad? You say this to me as if I mean something to him. Yet, right now, he’s fucking two random sluts.” Letting out my breath fast and harsh, I scanned the room. “I can’t do anything with that, but I can fuck some random slut myself.” Noticing the confusion on his face from out of the corner of my eye, I rectified it. “A man-slut, Brad.”

  Even with a black eye, the fucker smirked.

  I smirked back, spotting a good-looking, clean-cut man-slut. Clearing my throat, I brushed down my top and headed in his direction, my objective to go talk to him with an offer of no-strings sex. It was a no-brainer.

  Brad caught my arm. “Fucking bullshit you are.”

  “Hey! You can’t stop me. If I want to slut myself like Josh does, then I can. Who knows? It might make me feel better. Oh, I know … it might help me understand why he does it. Yes! That’s it!” I went to walk again, which was when Brad swept me into his arms. “What are you doing? Brad! Put me down. I want to fuck that nice man over there,” I yelled.

  Said nice man looked up, eyebrows drawn. I waved at him. “I want to fuck you, but he won’t let me.” I pointed to the back of Brad’s head. “He’s mean.”

  The nice man just nodded and waved back.

  I pouted.

  What a nice man.

  Outside, I wriggled in Brad’s arms. “Okay, okay. You can put me down now.”

  “You gonna stay put or try to go back inside and fuck that gay guy?”

  My feet hit the ground. “What? He was gay?”

  “Unless he likes to put his arm around men to stay upright, then yes, he was gay.”

  I pouted.

  What a nice gay man.

  “Fine. Let’s go back to the motel. Maybe there’s a non-gay man-slut there.” We began walking toward the taxi rank, the smell of pending rain in the air. I loved that smell and the shower of water that followed. It was just one part of nature’s beautiful cycle.

  A gust of wind blew some wayward leaves on the road into a whirl. It also drew out my goosebumps. I shivered rubbing my arms and hugging myself.

  “There is,” Brad said, pulling me against his side and caressing my shoulder. It warmed me instantly. “He’s name is Noah.”

  Laughing, I slid my hand underneath his jacket and rested it on his T-shirt-covered hip. “I’d rather fuck myself. No offence to your brother.”

  “None taken. And yes, I’ve seen your tool of the trade. Nice colour, by the way.”

  Halting my steps, realisation dawned on me. Oh shit! He’s the one that moved my BOB. “It was YOU!” I screeched.

  “You left it out for me to see.”

  “Oh my God! I did not. I left it out for me to see, not you.” Letting him go, I covered my face with my hands and shook my head, mortified. “I thought housekeeping had moved it, and that was bad enough.”

  “No, it was me. I even sniffed it.”

  My heart stopped beating, and I died … in Coffs Harbour … home of the Big Banana … and I hadn’t even seen it yet.

  Such a shame.

  Brad laughed and pulled me back to his side, waving at a taxi to pick us up. “I’m kidding. I would never do that.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?” I asked, hugging him. He was so warm.

  “Because you’re smart.”

  Ugh! I’m over these men. These warm, smartarse, coconut-smelling men.

  “Come on. Let’s get back to the motel before it pisses down.”

  ***

  Five minutes later, we were sitting in the back of the taxi, peering out of the window at the torrential downpour. “You ready?” he asked, hand on the door handle, ready for the run of our life.

  I nodded and smiled.

  “You’re about to be drenched and you’re smiling?”

  “Yes! I love the rain,” I hummed, grabbing the handle and wrenching the door open.

  The rain hit me like a wet slap to the face. It then slapped me again and again, until I practically became one with it—me and the rain, the rain and me.

  “Cori, what the fuck are you doing? Come on!” Brad yelled.

  Squinting through the droplets splashing my head, nose and cheeks, I barely made out his silhouette a good ten metres away, standing under the cover of a walkway near the motel’s reception.

  “Cori! Come on!”

  I stopped and twirled, shouting back at him, “No! This is fantastic!”

  “You’re insane.”

  “I know!” I laughed like a hyena on crack as I skipped along the gravel, my Chucks sunken foot-boats, and my jeans a new layer of skin.

  “How much did you drink?” he asked when I stopped next him. “It wasn’t as much as me. I know that.”

  “I don’t know. It wasn’t enough. Let’s go drink more.” I grabbed his hand and walked to our room, stopping in my tracks when I reached the door, all colour draining out of me. “What if he’s in there fucking those two girls?” I said to Brad, eyes wide, petrified. “I can’t see that. I just can’t see that.”

  “Wait here,” he said softly, moving me to the side of the door. “I’ll go check.”

  I nodded and waited, all of a sudden feeling the cold of the rain, my chin trembling, and my hands rubbing my arms while I danced on the spot. I needed a hot shower and b
ed.

  Waiting impatiently, the minutes ticking by, my dread heightened the discomfort I was already feeling, wondering why Brad was taking so long. Is he telling them all to get their clothes on and to get the hell out? Does that mean Josh is really in there with those girls?

  Unable to wait any longer, I pushed the door open, only to be met with Brad holding a towel. “All clear. He’s not here.”

  “Oh th … th … thank God,” I sighed, accepting the towel and stepping inside.

  I wrapped it around my shoulders, freezing, my teeth a symphony of chatters. I needed to get warm and dry, fast.

  “Jesus, Cori, you’re turning blue.” Brad stopped drying his own hair, and instead, started towel-drying me. “You need to get these clothes off.”

  “I c … c … can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Come on. Lift your arms up.”

  I did as I was told, shaking like a leaf and raising my arms. Brad lifted my wet singlet top over my head, and I noticed him suck in a shallow breath as he took in my white lacy bra. I didn’t care though, because the moment that fluffy towel was wrapped around my shoulders, was the moment I sighed, warmth slowly finding my body again.

  Brad found the buckle of my jeans and unlatched it before unzipping the zip and peeling the soaking wet denim down my thighs. “They’re stuck. You’re gonna either have to sit or lie down,” he said, his warm blessed hands lifting me like a doll and carrying me to the bed. I sat, placing my hands behind me for balance, and lifted my legs so that he could pull my jeans free.

  Untying my shoes, he removed them then yanked my jeans from my legs. My towel slipped from my shoulders, leaving me sitting there in my wet see-through lace underwear.

  I looked up to see Brad’s gaze travelling my body, my jeans dangling from his hand. His heavy, hooded eyes stared at my breasts, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed. My temperature climbed almost instantly.

  Brad’s gaze then dipped to my pussy, which I’m sure he saw through the fine bit of damp material stuck to my soft skin. Again, my temperature rose a little higher, and I was no longer cold, instead burning up with need. I needed Brad. I needed to let go, to fuck and to make Josh pay for the times he’d done it to me. I needed to make myself feel better and, in that moment, I’d feel better with Brad’s cock between my legs.

  Slowly, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of my G-string and dragged it down my legs, tossing it onto the floor.

  Brad shifted on the spot as his eyes found my wet flesh. “Cori, you don’t—”

  “Shut up,” I said harshly, reaching back and unhooking my bra, removing it also and tossing it to the floor.

  “Fuuuuuuck,” he groaned, running his hand through his wet hair before reaching back and pulling his T-shirt over his head. Our eyes met again, and l let my legs fall open lazily. He fumbled quickly with his jeans and pulled them down, his cock springing free, hard and ready.

  I licked my lips. “Yes, I do.”

  Before I could blink and take a second to look at the impressive specimen before me, he dropped to his knees and pressed his mouth to my pussy, his warm tongue swiping the length of me. “Oh God,” I moaned, gripping his head with my fingertips.

  Brad growled like a man possessed and shook his head wildly, his tongue and lips flicking my clit and tasting every single surface they could taste. His ferocity had me arching off the bed, the glorious sensation he was building within, all I could feel. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t relieved. I wasn’t angry, sad or even mad. I was simply numb to everything but the feel of his lips and tongue inside me. I just wanted to be fucked. No emotion. No words. I wanted it raw, fast, hard, and over with quickly. I wanted all the things that Josh did with every other woman but me.

  I. Wanted. To. Make. Him. Pay.

  Unfortunately, I was using Brad to do it.

  Closing my eyes as a wave of ecstasy travelled through me, the stars on the back of my eyelids weren’t so bright. They were there, but not the way they sparkled when Josh gave them to me.

  “Oh yes!” I cried out, shuddering and coming on his tongue, my feet digging into back.

  Brad sat up on the heels of his feet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked, his expression pained, I’m guessing for fear I would say no. He reached for his jeans and pulled out his wallet, opening it and retrieving a condom.

  I stared at the foil packet in his hand. “No strings?”

  He tore it open, avoiding my gaze. “No strings.”

  “Okay then,” I said with a half-smile, flipping onto my stomach and elevating to my hands and knees. “I want it hard and fast.”

  He cleared his throat, and I heard the crumpled sound of the wrapper followed by the snap of latex. Yes, Cori, focus on noises and not what you’re about to do.

  I wanted to tell my conscience to shut up. To just let me have a meaningless fuck for once. I mean, what was the big deal?

  The big deal is you don’t even like him.

  I did like him. He was sweet, good looking, funny, and he knew how to use his tongue.

  You know he likes you and you’re using him.

  So what? So I’m using a man who wants my pussy for sex. He’ll live.

  You’re using him to get back at Josh. That’s low, even for you.

  Exactly. And at this point in time, I really couldn’t give a fuck.

  Warm hands slid onto my hips, his thumbs massaging small circles on my arse. He was soft, gentle and patient, everything I didn’t want him to be. I needed him rough and uncaring, so I pushed back against him and begged. “Brad. Please!”

  The tip of his cock teased my entrance, and as he pushed inside me, I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, the incessant rhythm of my heart forewarning of its imminent demise.

  Nausea.

  Tears.

  … regret.

  Fuck! What have I done?

  Brad and I laid on our backs, staring at the ceiling, sheets pulled up to cover our panting, sweat-covered bodies. The pitter-patter of rain against the window was a timely distraction from what I’d just done. I was trying not to think about it. If I didn’t think about it, it never happened, right?

  Wrong.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly, rolling onto my side and facing Brad. He knew what had just transpired was a mistake on my part. He wasn’t stupid. And add to that me stopping him from kissing me, well … I’d just become the type of person I despised—a heartless bitch.

  “Stop saying that,” he said, choosing to remain on his back.

  “But it’s true. I am.”

  “I know. But I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly, rolling over.

  The bed dipped and his tentative hand found my shoulder. “That’s not what I meant. I know that you don’t want me. You love the fuckhead, it’s obvious—”

  “I don’t love him.”

  “Yeah, ya do. Anyway, I get it—you needed him out of your system, and you needed me to help you do it. I’m okay with that.” The mattress dipped again and the sheets moved, indicating he’d gotten out of bed. “Just stop fucking apologising, okay? You’re giving my dick a complex.”

  I rolled over quickly to set him straight, catching sight of his not-so-complex dick. “Your dick did just fine, Brad,” I said, unsuccessfully trying to hide my smile.

  He jiggled it in his hand. “You hear that, mate? Cori approved.”

  “Oh my God! Brad!” I pulled the sheet over my face. “Put it away!”

  “Oh no, you guys are best friends now. He’s going to come to you for advice and shit.”

  “Brad! I’m serious. Your penis and I are not friends. Put it away.” I blindly patted the bed for a pillow to throw.

  “Sure you are. Here, is this what you’re looking for?” He placed a pillow in my hands and I clumsily threw it, pretty much at myself.

  Peeling the sheet back from my face, I was met with his handsome sun-kissed face. I stared, blinking
back tears and gently touching his swollen eye. He really was beautiful inside and out.

  “Don’t you dare cry,” he said, softly wiping one tear from my cheek. “No strings, remember?”

  I nodded, but deep down there being no strings didn’t fucking mean a thing. I was so disgusted in myself. I didn’t even know who I was anymore. The Cori from a month ago would never have dreamed of falling for a guy like Josh, not to mention screwing his mate to drive a knife into his heart. The Cori from a month ago would never have felt so powerless and full of shame.

  Brad leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on my forehead. “I don’t regret what we did. I don’t regret being there for you when you needed me. So please don’t regret it either.”

  I nodded again. I had no words.

  “I’m going to go have a shower, unless you want one first.”

  “No, you go. I’ll have one in the morning. I’m just gonna get some sleep.” I went to sit up and move to the single bed, the one I’d claimed.

  “Where you going?”

  “Over to that bed.”

  “No, you’re not. You stay there. I’ll sleep in the single.”

  “But what about Josh?”

  “He won’t come back. If he was gonna, he’d be back by now.”

  I glanced at the clock and noticed it was 3:00 a.m. “Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

  Brad winked, grabbed his boxer shorts and headed into the shower. I waited, completely still, and as soon as I heard the water running, I burst into tears. Cori, you stupid bitch.

  ***

  The movement of the bed jarred me awake, the suddenness of it increasing my heartbeat. I held my breath, frozen, needing a moment to ascertain where I was, what I was doing and why I was all of a sudden alert. The bed dipped and a large warm body slid in beside me, hands finding my hips and pulling me flush with his chest. I knew those hands. I knew that body … I knew that scent. Josh.

  Before I’d fallen asleep, and while Brad was in the shower, I’d put on my PJ shorts and top. So when Josh slid in beside me, my first instinct was not to pull away. I felt safe in his arms. I felt loved. How, I have no idea. I just was. Knowing this was what I felt, I couldn’t contain my emotions and I let the tears fall freely, silently crying against his chest.