Bad Boy: You Are Not Alone

by Kelli Walker

  Well, that’s a massive lie, but for some reason I didn’t feel the want or need to talk about this encounter. I felt selfish about it, like it was only meant for me, so I just kept shrugging Brady off and telling him I was a little too drunk to remember much of it.

  “Sounds like all my romps with you in college, Brady,” Brittany quipped.

  “You did date a wine lover,” he smiled.

  Brady and Brittany were refreshing to be around. It was nice to be around two people who dated for the time they did in college and still watch them be kosher. They smiled, they talked, they joked, and the two of them were each other’s biggest supporters in their careers. If they weren’t both workaholics, I’d tell them to try it again now that they weren’t teenagers and half-drunk all the time in their beginning business college courses.

  “There’s a party Thursday night, right?” Tina asked.

  “Yeah, just a regular one,” Spencer weighed in. “I think we decided to do a massive bonfire, spit-cook a pig filled with spices and citrus fruits, and let everyone sort of hang out on the beach under the stars.”

  “So, no sex?” Brady asked.

  “The hell kinda rule is that? Of course sex,” Spencer laughed, “just not a party geared and tailored towards the idea of debauchery. Just… there if you want it.”

  “So… sensible debauchery,” I quipped.

  “Exactly!”

  “So, Tina, get lucky last night?” I heard Brittany ask. Tina was always squeamish when it came to talking about her encounters, so I knew if she told Brittany anything it wouldn’t be around the guys. She’s always been a sexual prude, even when I dated her in college, and that was part of the reason I was so drawn to her. She had priorities and morals, in and out of the bedroom, but as I peeled back all her layers she revealed interests and kinks I could’ve only dreamed in my wildest imagination. She was the epitome of innocent with a fiery side, and that’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her.

  But, one day she just broke up with me. Out of the blue. No rhyme, no reason, and no explanation. I asked her from time to time what had happened, but she never did open up to me about it. We’d stayed friends and were kosher around each other, but I never really talked to her except on these vacations.

  Part of me missed her. Her and her laugh. Her and her smile. Her and her witty banter and bone-dry humor. But, part of me knew that she was just Tina-- closed off, emotionally unavailable, and logically-based in any decision she ever made. She never did anything without a lengthy explanation at the ready, and if you ever tried to get her to do something “just because,” she would still mentally reason it to herself before she agreed to do it. Brittany and Spencer ragged on her relentlessly for it, but if they understood her family, then they’d understand why she was like that.

  Tina grew up in a firestorm family. What I mean by that is, she grew up in a family that sheltered her quite a bit. Until she got to college she had still been a virgin, had never seen a cork pulled from a bottle of wine, and hadn’t ever stayed out past nine. She wore clothes that covered her from head to toe, and she was never allowed to go do anything with friends unless it served a purpose. If she wanted to see a movie, the movie had to have a takeaway lesson. If she wanted to go to a study group at the coffee shop, she had to explain why the coffee shop was better than their home. If she wanted to go sleep over at a friend’s, then she had to have an explanation as to why the sleepover was better that Friday night than that Saturday night.

  She grew up in a family of logistics, she was raised to fight with facts and premises, so she blossomed into a woman who was capable of stuffing her emotions down and turning towards reason and logic-- the crux of the philosophy of her raising.

  But every once in awhile, if she had a few drinks or was able to relax enough on the couch in our vacation home, I saw that side of her peek out. That side I got to see sometimes while we romped around in bed. I got a glimpse of the fire that brimmed behind her eyes the moment I’d sink my cock in the depths of her tight pussy when we dated.

  When we lived.

  When we loved.

  “So! What’s everyone doing today?” Spencer exclaimed before he clapped his hands.

  “Sleep,” Tina groaned.

  “I’m gonna hang down at the beach, I think. Get some sun before the party in a couple days,” Brittany mused.

  “I’m binge-watching a bit of Doctor Who today,” Brady proclaimed.

  “Kevin?”

  Everyone’s eyes turned to me and I wasn’t sure how to answer. My mind had been so preoccupied with the softness of the woman I took last night in my bed that I hadn’t really given any thought to the rest of the day. At best, if I was going to ever see her again, I still had two days before I got the chance to scan the crowd and find her.

  “Brought some books with me. Figured I get to reading them,” I shrugged.

  “Why don’t you come read on the beach with me!?” Brittany exclaimed.

  “That doesn’t actually sound too bad.”

  We cleared the table so Brady to go on and watch his television marathon and when the dishes were put away I trudged back up the stairs. Tina was in the room across the hall from me upstairs, and I saw her slinking into the room before she slowly shut the door behind her. She looked like hell, but even in her hungover state she was still a vision: jet black hair down to her shoulders and steely gray eyes that stayed unwavering in their gaze. High cheekbones that were wrapped in sun-tanned skin and curves that would make any man bite his fist and swallow his groan.

  She was beautiful in college, but age looked better on her every time I saw her.

  I got out of my pajamas and pulled on some shorts and a shirt, then I grabbed the first book I’d try to read and made my way out to Brittany. My work as well as Brittany’s intertwined quite a bit. For one, I managed her web design as well as the security that came with it, but I was also helping her get a personal project off the ground. She wanted to create a free-to-use network for licensed real estate agents to connect around the world so they could share information, trade secrets, refer people to other’s services, and keep track of their properties all in one place.

  I thought it was a genius idea, so I took on her project for free as a massive tax write-off. Call it a ‘personal project.’

  “Kevin!”

  Brittany was waving at me from the beach underneath a massive umbrella, and I stumbled my way down there and plopped down into a chair she’d set up for me.

  “Thanks,” I murmured.

  “So… I have a confession to make, and I’m not sure if you’re gonna like it.”

  “Jesus, Brit-... we all know you smoke. Who the fuck cares?” I said.

  “Wait. What!? I don’t smoke, you dick. Listen, the woman you were with last night-”

  “I don’t kiss and tell, Brit,” I bit.

  “No no no no, you don’t understand. The girl, she-”

  “Brit, I really don’t wanna talk about it,” I sighed.

  “It was Tina!”

  I felt my jaw clench and I swallowed hard. The knot in my throat closed off my voice, and all I could do was slowly pan my gaze toward her.

  “What?” I choked out.

  “I’m like, 95% sure it was Tina,” she sighed.

  “Uh huh. And… why would you think this?”

  “Because I fucking helped her get ready for the party! I know what she was dressed in!”

  “The woman I was with had long brown hair down to the mid of her back, Brit.”

  “And I helped Tina put that wig on last night. Dark mahogany number 5526, to be exact.”

  I craned my neck back to the house and saw Tina staring out at us. I felt a shiver crawl up my spine before she disappeared from the window, and I watched the curtain flutter back into place before I slowly panned my head back out into the ocean.

  The insatiable woman I couldn’t get out of my head was Tina.

  The woman I had fallen in love with in college.

>   Chapter 3

  Tina

  “5 minutes on the steaks!” Spencer called.

  “Got to the veggies yet!?” Barbara called back.

  “What about those sangrias, Brady?”

  “They’re ready whenever Tina is with the fruit!”

  I’d done exactly what everyone thought I would. I soaked the fruit left over from breakfast in vodka because I knew it would go well with the red wine sangria Brady was making for dinner tonight. That was me: miss predictable. Every step I took someone knew about, and not because I clued them into anything. I kept the same routine everyday, stayed within the same color palette with my wardrobe, and never changed my furniture out or around. If it broke and it couldn’t be fixed, I simply ordered another one.

  It wasn’t that I was boring. I actually thought my job was pretty interesting. I knew the most sordid lives and secrets of the most powerful people in Washington. I knew which senators were paying minority prostitutes for sex while railing against social programs that targeted those same minorities, I knew which White House interns were snorting coke off their boss’s dicks, and in two weeks I would know every single secret of Anthony Weiner himself in order to try and do some sort of damage control.

  Until then, he could slaughter his image anyway he liked by not listening to me while I took his money for it.

  “How’s that pie coming along!?” Kevin yelled at Brittany.

  “Got two going! Blackberry and apple!”

  “My favorite!” Spencer smiled as he came through the door with the steaks.

  “Which one?” Brittany beamed.

  “Both.”

  For me, it was a tick. In order to counteract the daily upheaval I fielded to the media when it came to the politicians in Washington, I made my life my routine. Nothing was ever out of place, my makeup colors never changed, I took great pains to make sure my weight stayed the same, and I never deviated from the same hairstyle on a daily basis. It was how I coped with the stress of the business I had unintentionally built for myself, and it worked just fine.

  But, it’s why I loved these vacations so much. Me and my friends, we came here three times a year. I bought the island, they built the house, and together we split all the bills. These parties we did and the conversations we had, it was an intentional stray from the norm. I had outfits that came with me at the three different times of the year we descended into this part of the ocean, and they were all colorful and loud: yellows and pinks for summer, greens and reds for fall, and oranges and blues for spring. I let my hair waft around my shoulders on the beach when I was here, and I always made sure to get in as much stress relief time as possible.

  The truth was, I knew it was Kevin at the party the moment I laid eyes on him. I mean, I dated the man in college, for god sakes. I rode his dick and he tied me to a bed whenever we got the chance! I knew what that man looked like behind a mask. But I took advantage of the masquerade party and I really did it up: I splattered colored makeup on my face, I put on a wig, and I shoved my tits up to my chin in a bodiced dress just so no one would recognize me.

  Not even my friends.

  Well, except for Brittany. She’s the one who helped me get ready that night.

  The moment my eyes connected with Kevin’s I could tell he had no idea who I was. There was something thrilling about that. Something about a clean slate of sex that really got my gears turning.

  But something about it also screamed loneliness… like I was chasing a past I wasn’t sure I wanted to ever run away from in the first place.

  He had been dressed to the nines that night. He was in a beautiful deep red tuxedo with a white phantom mask, and he walked with a cane that accentuated how long his legs were. Kevin had always been tall and broad, and it’s one of the things that drew me to him. Even as I stood at 5 foot 7 in heels, My face still only came to his chest. On the flats of my feet I was easily staring at his abdomen, and in any other life he could’ve played basketball professionally. His pale skin was freckled and his hair was naturally a deep mahogany auburn, and the suit only served to accentuate the red streaks in his hair that I always remembered running my hands through while his face was buried between my legs.

  No, it’s no secret that I broke up with him, and to this day I’m not really sure why. Things were going well, we hung out on a regular basis, and the sex was outstanding. But one more I just woke up in a panic, and two hours later we were broken up. He didn’t fight it, I didn’t cry, and he got up from the coffee shop and never once looked back at me. I figured he was probably as over the relationship as I was at that point, and him not ever stopping to look back at me was the sign I needed that I’d done the right thing.

  Except there was one issue: I’d dreamed of him every single night in my bed wrapped between my legs since I had left him.

  Sure, that probably should’ve been my cue that I’d done the wrong thing, but let’s be honest: I’m not good socially, but I’m really good at helping others with their social skills. I take things way too literally and I always have an explanation for everything, and what’s wrong with that? Just because I want to do something doesn’t mean I have to do it “just because.” There can also be a reason that logically makes sense.

  We all sat down to dinner and everyone teased me for soaking the fruit in vodka, but once we started eating and drinking no one was complaining any longer about it. Brady was complimenting me on how it paired well with the sangria and Brittany was already leaning over onto Spencer and giggling about something idiotic while he rattled off book quotes or some shit.

  They needed to just have sex already.

  God, sex… I still remember what he felt like buried inside of me. He filled me up nicely in college, but there was something pulsating and primal about our encounter the night of the party. He slipped into me and I could feel my essence spilling over onto his dick, and had I had it my way I would’ve woken up, slipped onto his morning wood, and had another go at it.

  But there wasn’t any reason for it, honestly, so I rolled over in the middle of the night and left.

  I couldn’t look at him throughout dinner, and Kevin had been the same. We engaged in conversation and laughed, but both of us made sure not to engage one another. I knew Brittany had told him that it was me on the beach because every time he looked at me a blush creeped down his neck. That was always Kevin’s giveaway whenever we were dating: if he looked at me and blushed, I knew he was thinking about something sinister.

  And I knew that if I caught his gaze long enough, there’d be a wet spot on this chair whenever I got up.

  Brittany caught my eye and her head began batting between the two of us. Her eyes were hooked on Kevin, and when he looked away she threw her gaze to me. Fuck. She’d caught on, and Brittany wasn’t the most discreet of individuals. Someone at this table would call her out and we’d be in a great deal of trouble.

  Well, not really trouble. But, dear Jesus, we’d never hear the end of it.

  “I think I’m gonna retire early,” Kevin said abruptly. “I’m exhausted, and I think I got too much sun.”

  “You should slather on something called ‘sunblock’, Pasty,” Brady smiled.

  “I got some if you want some for tomorrow or something,” Spencer offered.

  “I gave you some on the beach, though?” Brittany questioned.

  “Have you seen his skin? SPF 80 would only hold him for an hour,” I piped up.

  Everyone doubled over laughing and I flickered my gaze over to him. There was a mixture of confusion, hurt, and relief, and when he turned his back and headed for the stairs I grabbed my sangria glass and chugged the rest of its contents.

  “Looks like someone’s ready to party!” Brady said.

  “Who’s ready for pie!?” Brit shouted.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said with a mouthful of vodka fruit. I shot Brit a death stare before I slid my chair out from the table, and I made my way for the stairs before anyone could fire off a question as to where I was g
oing. Something inside of me was pulling at me to talk to him, and part of me knew it was the alcohol. That fruit was strong and I’d eaten a great deal of it before dinner, and I wanted to see if Kevin would talk to me.

  Or at least look at me.

  I admit, I was panicking. I needed him to know that he wasn’t a mistake. Something inside of me wanting to tell him that I knew it was him and that I had wanted to be with him tonight. He’d looked so incredible with that cane and that suit and his hair and that mask… and I wanted to explain to him why he woken up alone.

  And, part of me wanted to hear that I hadn’t been a mistake. I wanted to know that, when he found out it was me, he was happy. Well, maybe not happy, but at least not disappointed. I mean, he’d cum pretty hard, let’s be honest about that.

  My hands were trembling when I raised my fist to knock on his door, but when no sound came from behind the door I sighed and leaned my head against it.

  “I know you can hear me, Kevin,” I began, “please just open up.”

  I knocked on the door again and was still met with silence, and for some reason tears began to rim my eyes.

  “I need you to know that I didn’t regret it. I-... I knew it was you and-... and I didn’t regret it, Kev.”

  I heard my voice trembling and giving out, and I knew I needed to back away before my emotions ran away with me. I took a few deep breaths and gained my composure, and for the first time since I’d dated him in college I felt like he was judging me.

  And I didn’t enjoy that one bit.

  “Just wanted you to know that. There was a reason I chose you that night. You weren’t random. Not to me.”

  Satisfied with my answer, I sniffed hard and wiped my arm across my eyes, and then yelled down to everyone that I was going to bed. Brit told me she’d save me some pie and Spencer made some wisecrack about not hooking up with Kevin, and I ventured into my room across the hall from Kevin upstairs before I headed for the bathroom.

  It was time for a nice, long bath.

  Chapter 4