Luck of Love

by Aleman, Tiffany

  Smiling she asks, “What was it?”

  “It was the coolest bike I’d ever seen.”

  “See, I grew up on welfare Blake. So when I got that bike, I felt like the luckiest kid in the world. My mother used to sell what was left of our food stamps after she had gone grocery shopping, to buy her booze. That's why I don’t really drink and why I have the drive and determination that I have—to be the best man that I can be. I refuse to live a life like that again. Luckily, I had a best friend, whom I still speak to. He helped me through a lot of tough times while I was growing up. His father always told me that as long as I stayed focused, I could make my own dreams come true. He’d said that it would take a lot of hard work and drive, but that he had faith in me. He was right. With a lot of hard work I graduated valedictorian from high school and I got a full ride to pretty much any college I chose.”

  My eyes search hers as she reaches up caressing my face. Whispering she says, “I’m so sorry that you had to grow up like that, Derrick. No child, no matter what should have to live a life like that. Do you still talk her, your mom?”

  “No,” I say screwing my eyes shut tight. Opening them I add, “On nights that she was coherent enough to speak, she’d tell me how awful she felt that I didn’t have a father, and then like a switch, she would flip and place the blame on me for her problems. She said that, ‘no man would ever love her because she had a bastard child.’ My father left before I was born, so I never had a chance to meet the man that helped turn my mom into the woman she became. I was self- sufficient by the time I was eight, and eventually learned how to take care of myself and her. Her not showing up for my graduation, was what finally broke me. So, when I left for college, I didn't even bother to tell her bye.”

  “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of what you’ve done with your life, and the man you have become,” Blake whispers, leaning in closer to me.

  Flicking my gaze between her eyes and lips, she nods at my subtle innuendo.

  Touching my lips to hers, I place my hand on her hip pulling her body flush against mine. As our kiss intensifies, my hands slowly begin to move on their own accord. Slipping under the hem of her shirt, they glide up along her ribs; my fingers draw patterns on her delicate skin. A groan of satisfaction escapes from the back of her throat.

  Pulling back, we both try to regain control of our breathing. With my eyes still locked on hers, I take in her reactions to what I’m doing. Needing to know what she wants I say, “I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to push you or anything, but is this okay?” Nodding in response, I gradually glide my hand further up her side and then onto her stomach, slowly inching toward her breasts. The pad of my thumb skims across the soft skin under her breast. With my hands skating up higher, my thumbs faintly brush against her hardened nipples.

  The quiet moan that escapes her causes the already hard bulge in my jeans to grow harder.

  Pulling my hand back and out from under her shirt, I lean in barely brushing my lips against hers and say, “We should go to sleep, because if you keep making little sounds like that I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself much longer.”

  “Okay.” Kissing me once more, she lifts my arm up laying her head in its crook. Draping an arm over my stomach she whispers, “Goodnight, Derrick.”

  The music slams into me as I walk into Club Pure. The ceiling is made of clear, thick glass, providing a view of the VIP floor above. Between the layers of glass, small lights flash to the beat of the music. The sight never fails to make my heart pulse. The dance floor is alive with bodies moving as one to the song blaring over the speakers. A massive bar made of frosted glass takes up the entire wall on the right. At the end of the bar, a spiral staircase provides the entrance up to the VIP floor.

  Leaning against the bar, I hold my fingers up in the air signaling the bartender. I pull out my phone as it vibrates a second time and see Dean’s name flash on the screen. Turning away from the bar, I plug one ear and answer the call.

  “Hey, where’re you guys at?” I yell into the phone.

  “We’re about to walk in right now,” Dean says.

  Shouting over the music, I tell him, “I’m waiting at the bar.”

  Hanging up, I turn back to the bar to see Devon, the bartender, approaching. “Hey, hot stuff, what can I get for you tonight?” She asks, batting her eyelashes and biting her bottom lip.

  “I’ll take a Manhattan,” I reply. Nodding, her face falls from my obvious disinterest.

  Mixing my drink, she slides it over to me. “Are you starting a tab tonight?”

  “Sure. I’m waiting on friends, and then we’ll be heading upstairs.” I turn away from the bar and scan the crowd. Just as I lift my drink to my mouth, I see Blake slowly making her way to me, her eyes never leaving mine.

  The sight of her makes my jaw drop. I slowly rake my eyes up and down her body. Her flawless tan glows in the brown satin strapless dress she’s wearing. The deep neckline gives me a view of her generous cleavage. The color brings out the green in her eyes and hugs her curves in all the right places. Her nude pumps give the illusion that her legs go on for miles and the hem of the dress stops mid-way giving me a view of her toned thighs. Her wavy hair hangs freely down her back. Her smoky eye shadow and those ‘fuck me’ red lips pop against the canvas of her natural beauty.

  I feel Dean clap me on the shoulder, but I can’t seem to acknowledge his presence. All I see is Blake coming closer smiling at me—I can’t tear my eyes away from her. The way her hips sway as she walks has my dick jumping to attention. Coming to a stop in front of me, she says, “Hey Landon.” Wide eyed, she looks around the club in amazement and says, “This place is nice.”

  Snapping myself out of it and figuring I should say something, anything, I say, “Yeah it is, and there’s more,” I say pointing to the floor above me.

  With my eyes fixed on her, she looks back at me and says, “What’s up there?”

  Just as I’m about to answer, Dean hands her a martini while he holds onto his Crown and Coke and says, “VIP.”

  “Thank you,” she says to Dean. “How are we supposed to get up there?” She asks.

  Before Dean can answer, I say, “I have VIP access here. Let’s go on up,” waving Blake to take the lead.

  I can see the uneasiness in her eyes as she shakes her head and says, “No, it’s okay you go first, and we’ll just follow behind you.”

  “Come on Blake, just go,” Dean says agitated, ushering her forward. She grabs onto his hand, pulling him along as I walk over to the stainless steel staircase.

  A rope barricade stops people from going up. Matt, a bouncer, waits at the bottom of the stairs with his arms crossed over his chest. He stands around six foot four, and his broad shoulders and shaved head dares people to fuck with him. Reaching my hand out, I inquire, “How are you, Matt?”

  Shaking my hand, he says, “Hey Landon, I haven’t seen you in a while. You going up?”

  “Yeah, we’re going up,” pointing to Blake and Dean. I make quick introductions as Matt unhooks the rope, pulling it back so that we can make our way through.

  Feeling a slight tug on my suit jacket, I look back over my shoulder. Blake’s still holding tight to Dean’s hand. Fighting a smile, I ask, “Are you all right back there?”

  A small grin plays on her face. “Yeah, I’m just trying not to trip in these damn heels.”

  “Is this your first time wearing those?” I ask with a chuckle while pointing at her shoes.

  “No, smartass, there’s not much light here.” She laughs, shoving me forward. “Just go.”

  Slowly I unclench her fingers from my jacket enclosing her hand in mine. Her eyes meet mine and then fall to our hands as I thread my fingers through hers. “So you don’t cause us both to fall,” I explain.

  Stepping through the VIP entrance, the back wall holds another frosted glass bar. The glass shelves above it display top of the line liquor, lit up by blue lighting. Plush couches and chairs are scattere
d about the right side. The left side is full of bodies bending and moving as people dance to the thumping music.

  Pulling Blake to my side, I unlace our fingers and place my hand on the small of her back. I lead her towards a couch with Dean following us. Leaning into me, she says in a state of awe, “This is fucking amazing.” The furniture is modern and chic, covered in red fabric and black throw pillows.

  We take a seat on a suede red couch, with Blake sitting between Dean and me. Blaire, our server, approaches us with a bottle of Cristal and glasses. “Mr. Kelly, would you like your usual?”

  Looking to Blake and Dean I say, “I normally have a bottle of Cristal when I come here. Is that okay with you guys?”

  Blake shrugs her shoulders, “I don’t care. I’ve never had it before, but I’ll try it.”

  Nodding and looking back to Blaire I say, “Yes, thank you.” She leaves the chilled bottle and glasses on the table in front of us. I pop the cork from the bottle and pour us each a glass. Handing one to Blake and then Dean, I watch Blake take a long pull from her glass. Pulling it away quickly, she starts coughing. Clutching a hand to her chest, she gasps, “What is this?”

  Dean and I laugh. Dean says, “It’s champagne, not tequila. You’re supposed to sip it, not slam it back.”

  Her face turns a crimson red from embarrassment. “Oh, I didn’t know.”

  I drape an arm around her back and ask, “Have you ever been to a club before?”

  Lifting her glass, she cautiously takes a sip while shaking her head, “No. Until I started working at Frankie’s, I’d never even been to a bar.”

  Sputtering on my drink, I ask, “Never? You’ve never been to a club?”

  Shaking her head and laughing she says, “No.”

  “Well, I’m glad that you decided to come out tonight.”

  Noticing that she hasn’t really touched her drink, I ask, “Do you not like the champagne?”

  Scrunching her face, she shakes her head and says, “No, it’s not actually my thing. I’m more of a whiskey, tequila and vodka girl, to be honest.”

  Setting my drink down, I lean in asking, “So what would you like? I have an open tab. Tonight’s on me.”

  “I’ll take a Jack and Coke,” she answers.

  Standing, I ask Dean, “Do you want something different too?”

  “Yeah, I’ll have the same as Blake,” Dean replies with a grin.

  Nodding, I walk off in the direction of the bar. Shoving my way through the crowded dance floor, I finally reach the bar. Seeing Blaire, I wave her over.

  Coming over to me she says, “Can I get you something else, Mr. Kelly?”

  “I need two Jack and Cokes, a bottle of Jack and 3 shot glasses, please.”

  “Sure, I’ll bring everything right over,” she says.

  Pushing away from the bar I say, “Thanks, Blaire.”

  Approaching the couch where Dean and Blake sit, I take a seat next to Blake. Sitting closer to her than before, my knee brushes against hers. “The drinks are on their way.”

  Looking to Dean I ask, “How’d the photo shoot go today?”

  Blake throws her head back in laughter, clutching her stomach. I can see by the look that Dean gives Blake this is something I’d die to hear. Mumbling under his breath he says, “It was an underwear shoot for Antonio Basilio.”

  Arching an eyebrow asking him to explain, Blake does it for him, “He knew it was going to be an underwear shoot, but what he didn’t know is that the photographer wanted his legs bare—no hair. The photographer said his legs were too hairy.”

  Laughing I look over to Dean and say, “Shut the fuck up. The photographer made you shave your legs?”

  Laughing even harder now, Blake shakes her head and says between gasps, “Nope, the photographer wanted them waxed. He was afraid that shaving them would take too long. I could hear him screaming from the other room. When he came out they were as red as cherries and he was pissed.”

  Tears spring to my eyes from laughing so hard. Blaire approaches our table with Dean and Blake’s drinks, the shot glasses, and the bottle of Jack. Trying to regain my composure, I take a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it.

  Grabbing his drink, Dean tosses it back, finishing it. Setting the glass back down, he reaches for the bottle of Jack and pours each of us a shot. Then he says, “What really pissed me off is the damn photographer wasn’t expecting my legs to be so red. He was forced to shoot me in a suit instead.”

  “That’s fucked up,” I reply. I don’t know what else to say, so I just leave it at that.

  “Tell me about it,” he says lifting another shot and slamming it back. Setting the glass back down, Blake and I both look at him bewildered. Seeing the look on both of our faces, he shrugs his shoulders and says, “What?”

  Picking up two shots, I give one to Blake. Raising mine in the air, I say “To your first night out at a club.”

  Smiling at me, she raises her glass to mine and before tipping her shot back says, “I’ll drink to that.” I watch as she shakes her head and screws her lips together. “Woo,” she says as she pours three more. She hands Dean another shot, then me and says, “Now all three of us are taking one at the same time,” looking at Dean she adds, “Cry baby.”

  We clink our glasses together and throw back our shots. Putting our glasses back on the table, Dean stands and says, “I’ll be back. I’m going to use the restroom.”

  Blake and I nod at him as he turns to leave us alone. Watching as Dean disappears onto the crowded dance floor, l look over to Blake who is sitting quietly, sipping on her Jack and Coke. “You look very beautiful tonight.”

  Laughing she says, “Thanks.” Bumping shoulders with me she adds, “You don’t look so bad yourself.” I know she’s feeling the alcohol because she’s never been this comfortable being alone with me. Pouring us both another shot, I hand her one. She looks at me, raising an eyebrow, “Are you trying to get me drunk?” She asks grinning.

  Peeking at her out of the corner of my eye, I say, “Maybe,” while tipping my shot back.

  Chuckling she says, “At least you’re honest. That’s a first for an attorney,” she adds, downing her shot. Before I can even ask what she means by that, she asks me, “So what brought you to the big city?”

  Leaning back against the couch, I prop my ankle up on my knee and say, “My best friend got a full ride to any college he chose. He chose Columbia, so I followed. We grew up together, and I think of him as more of a brother than a friend. He didn’t have the best childhood. He moved to Jersey and became some big hot shot after college. I stayed in the city and chose to work for the firm I interned for in law school.”

  “Do you guys still see each other?” She asks.

  Nodding I answer, “Not all the time since our careers are so demanding, but we hang out when we can. Actually, I hung out with him after I left your place a few weekends ago. What about you? What’ve you been up to since I last saw you?”

  Taking a drink of her Jack and Coke, she leans back against the couch relaxing and says, “Not much. Just school and work. I just recently started dating someone too.”

  My eyes go wide when she mentions that she’s dating someone. I’ve never been one to step on another man’s toes, but there’s just something about this girl. She gets me in some way. I don’t care whose she’s dating. She said recently and to me that means not serious. Blake starts bouncing in her seat as “Lil’ Freak,” by Usher and Nicki Minaj starts playing over the loud speakers.

  Reaching for her hand, I pull her up off the couch and guide her towards the dance floor. “Come on, let’s dance.”

  “Okay but where’s Dean?” she asks looking around for him.

  I point to another couch close to ours where he sits talking with a red head that keeps running her hand up and down his arm. “I think he’s a little preoccupied right now,” I say, pulling Blake further out onto the dance floor.

  Grabbing onto her hips, I pull her into me. The lights i
n the glass floor below us pulse in time with the beat. Blake’s body goes stiff as I try to get her to loosen up. Placing my lips close to her ear, I say, “It’s just dancing, Blake.”

  Nodding, she leans in close to my ear. Her warm breath rushes out as she says, “You’re right. Let’s dance.”

  Turning in my arms, her back to my front, she begins rubbing her ass against my dick while the bass of the song moves through our bodies. Sliding down my front and then back up slowly, her back glides against the bulge in my pants. Splaying my right hand across her stomach, I hold her tightly against me, grinding into her from behind. Using my left hand, I run my fingers up her ribs and down the inside of her arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. I reach her hand and guide her arm up and around my neck. Her head falls back against my chest. With her eyes closed, she rocks into me, matching my rhythm. I lean my head down, inhaling her seductive scent. Skimming the tip of my nose up and down her neck, I reach her ear and nibble on her lobe. I whisper to her, “Be my lil’ freak.” A soft moan escapes her as I pull her tighter against me, molding our bodies together. “Will you be my lil’ freak, Blake?” I ask huskily.

  Her hand guides me down closer to the curve between her shoulder and neck. Softly, I press my lips against the curve and begin peppering soft kisses on her neck. As the song begins to bleed into another, my lust-filled eyes bore into her as her eyes slowly begin to open. Slowly, I lean into her, my lips a hairbreadth away from hers, when I feel a slight shake of her head against my chest.