Sunshine & Whiskey

by R. L. Griffin

  “I’m going to have to stop you right there. If you’re leaving soon, don’t start anything you can’t finish.”

  He leans in and kisses my cheek. “Feisty, I like it.” He turns back to his omelet with no cheese, which really isn’t even an omelet at all in my opinion. “So Sunshine, I know you aren’t here for very long, but I’d like to hang out after my conference. I have a photo shoot tomorrow that I want you to come with me. Are you game?”

  “If, by hang out, you are asking to have sex for the remainder of my trip to Vegas I think I can do that.”

  A cocky grin spreads across his face. “What do you think?” he asks, leaning back and doing a form of crunches. “You think all the women will love this?” He stares at his own abs.

  “You know, confidence is sexy, but that’s just douchey.”

  “Douchey?” He chuckles. “All women except you love douchey if that is what this is.” He stands up and flexes his biceps and abs.

  “Gross. I’m rethinking my having sex with you for the next few days.”

  His face falls. “What?”

  “Listen, you’re hot. I know that and you know that, but shit, I don’t need you to flex for me. I touched every inch of your body last night. That’s enough.”

  “You love it.”

  “Whatever,” I say as I shove bites of crispy waffle in my mouth. “Go ahead and let all the women that love douches see all that.” I wave my hand in front of his body.

  “I do need to go Sunshine.” He puts his plate on the cart. Then he pulls on his jeans and his shirt. It’s hot that he’s commando and I pierce a strawberry with my fork and put it in my mouth to get my mind off putting my mouth somewhere else. It’s almost surreal I’m having sex with this guy. You still don’t know me that well, but Laura was right, I’m a serial monogamist. You remember how well the first one night stand went, right? I don’t plan on making them a habit.

  He pulls my phone from his hand and calls his phone. “I’ll call you later.” He bends over and sucks my earlobe in between his lips and then nips it with his teeth. Then he turns and disappears out the door.

  I stare at his ass as he walks away. My phone buzzes with a text. I look at the screen and Laura’s picture comes up.

  You alone?

  I respond.

  Yes and with tons of food.

  The second I hit send the door to my room opens revealing my best friend in the same clothes she was wearing the night before. Laura limps in holding her heels in her hand. Her expression is slightly amused and extremely exhausted, showing me she had a great night with Duncan.

  “Well, you look rode hard and…”

  “Put up wet?” She finishes for me. “Then we’re twins.” She throws her heels on the floor and walks toward me.

  “Fun?”

  “The funnest.”

  “Funner than ginormous dick?” I’m surprised.

  “Just as fun.” She shrugs. “It smells like sex in here.”

  “I know, kinda gross.”

  “Kinda awesome.” Laura’s long hair is piled on top of her head. “So, how are you feeling?”

  “A little better, actually,” I admit.

  “Good. Fucking through it works, you just have to have the right fucker.” She sinks to the bed, but only after she pulls the comforter so she’s not on the sheets. “I don’t want to sit on your fucking though.” A smile creeps across her face. Picking a piece of bacon off my plate, she pops it in her mouth. “I’m quite hungry.”

  “What are we doing today?” I ask, my mouth full of toast.

  “I intend on sleeping, maybe hanging by the pool. Can we get a cabana?” Laura pulls the comforter all the way up to the pillow and lies down on the bed, her head on my pillow.

  I lie back, my head right next to hers.

  “Meat wants to hang out after his conference. I don’t know if I’m up for that.” I’m thinking out loud. You do that too, don’t you?

  “Why wouldn’t you be up for it? Was the sex bad?” She sits back up and grabs another piece of bacon.

  “Surprisingly enough it was great. It got better each time.” I run my hand through the rat’s nest that is my hair, my fingers getting caught in the tangles.

  “Oh really?”

  I push half of the waffle toward her. “Yes, I believe Meat may be the perfect fuck through it partner.”

  “I love it when I find the right thing at the right time. Like when I need a red clutch and I find the perfect one.” She’s talking while shoving hash browns drowning in ketchup in her mouth.

  “Did you just equate fucking and shopping?”

  “I mean, isn’t everything like shopping?”

  “No, fucking isn’t anything like shopping.”

  “Oh, serial monogamer, this is where you’re wrong. You look around and see what you want and take it home. At first you’re super excited about your find. You use it all the time, it feels good. It looks good. Then you tire of it and look around for the next thing you want to take home.”

  “I didn’t realize you were this cynical,” I say, pulling the sheet up to my chin again. Yes, I’m sitting in my room with my bestie, naked on a bed I recently soiled having sex all night. You don’t have friends like that? I feel sorry for you.

  “Because you didn’t want to. You feel bad for me I don’t have a boyfriend, you hear my stories about all my personal shit, but you don’t really listen because it doesn’t impact you. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying we, as people, don’t really care about something unless it affects us personally.”

  I drink my own mug of coffee. I don’t disagree with her. I’m running through my memory of all the times she’s told me about dates and sex with people I don’t even remember their names and realize she’s right.

  “Now it relates to you because you’re going to have to date, and this is the sort of shit you have to deal with. It’s frustrating. I constantly battle with myself about whether I’m too stuck in my ways or should I settle for the guy whose hair annoys the fuck out of me and by the way, why does someone’s hair annoy the fuck out of me?”

  “Why does hair annoy you?”

  “I haven’t figured that out yet. As a matter of fact, all sorts of things annoy the fuck out of me. I’m pretty sure I will be single my entire life.” She pours coffee into a mug, then puts real cream and multi-color sugar that I’m positive can only be found in Vegas in her coffee. “This is a very depressing thought for this time in the morning.”

  “But, look at the sugar. That should cheer you.”

  “Oh yeah, Vegas multi-color sugar for the win.” She takes another sip.

  “Let’s get by the pool and try to continue to vacation.” I change the subject because Laura analyzing her singleness is never a good thing.

  “When are we gambling? I’ve booked a tour of the Hoover Dam tomorrow.”

  “Okay about the dam, but it’s hot as fuck. Will we melt? I don’t know about gambling, it’s really not my thing.”

  “Um…really?” She looks at me with condescension. “We must gamble while we’re here.”

  “We can do that on the way to the pool,” I relent.

  “Done.” Laura leans back and lies on her back staring up at the ceiling. “Megan, I’m feeling a little out of sorts.”

  “You’re playing it off well,” I joke.

  “I know.”

  I lie down next to her so my head is again by her head. “I’m really glad you got laid off.”

  “Rude,” she comments.

  “I couldn’t do this without you,” I correct.

  “You could, but not as well.”

  “You are the chocolate to my peanut butter.”

  “The salt to my caramel,” she adds. “The silicone lube to my butt plug.”

  I laugh. “I’m not sure what to say about you being so specific about the lube that goes with a butt plug.”

  “Well, I like to be accurate.”

  “You use butt plugs?”

 
“It’s really early, but yes. Honestly, one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had.”

  “I don’t understand why I’m just hearing about this. When one of us has a mind blowing orgasm it must be shared so that the other will know about it.”

  “So…”

  “So I had mind blowing orgasms last night all over this bed you’re lying all over.”

  “Gross and exactly what this rooms smells like.” She pops up, grabs a piece of toast and the glass of orange juice off the tray. As she walks to the door, she turns and looks at me. “I love you. Meet me at the casino after you clean your vag.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  #Vagfest

  “I’m supposed to meet him here, but he’s like thirty minutes late. What the fuck?” I’m snapping into my phone to Laura, who is currently lounging at a cabana back at our hotel where I left her two hours ago to shower. I, on the other hand, am sitting at a bar in the middle of a very smoky casino waiting for Meat. It’s called the Heart Bar, isn’t that ironic. There are scantily clad women dancing around the bar, I even see a man eating popcorn and watching a dancer. I laugh to myself.

  “Well, come back here and we’ll go to dinner or eat at the pool. We’ll do something fun,” she responds. “I want to go on the High Roller.”

  “What’s the High Roller?” I look down at my nails, I really need a manicure.

  “It’s a Ferris wheel and you can drink on it.”

  “Perfect, I’m headed back that way. See you in like twenty minutes.”

  As I get up to leave my phone buzzes with a text.

  Sunshine. I’m stuck upstairs, can you come up a level to where the signing is? My assistant Trixie will meet you.

  Trixie? His assistant? I’m utterly amused and I text Laura.

  I’m going up to his signing conference to meet his assistant Trixie.

  She texts.

  hahahahaha sounds awesome. #sarcasm

  I respond.

  I understand sarcasm asshole. #imaylookdumbbutimnot I’ll still be back to the hotel.

  She responds.

  Whatever. Fuck through it. We can do dinner anytime. I’m sort of sick of you anyway. BTW you’re bad at hashtags #shorterisbetter

  I laugh and respond.

  #honesty

  I slide my phone in my back pocket. I’m wearing blue suede Toms ballet flats. Vegas is no joke. You think something is next door and forty fucking minutes later your feet fall off. I pull at the spaghetti straps on my white tuxedo tank and muster confidence. I follow the signs to the book signing and the trails of women hanging here and there. My red hair flows down my back, and I look at the sets of closed doors. There are women outside packing up books.

  “Excuse me, is this where…” My mind draws a blank. I almost call him Meat, but stop and cannot for the life of me remember his real name. Warrenton? Harrison? Montgomery? Fuck. It was something pretentious.

  “Sunshine?”

  I hear this, but it doesn’t really register, I’m trying not to have a total breakdown because I don’t remember Meat’s name. I’m standing there staring at these women, who are staring back at me baffled. Embarrassment in the shade of magenta is creeping up my neck.

  “Sunshine?”

  I turn to see who is yelling “Sunshine” at these women, annoyed, but at least the voice is buying me some time to remember Meat’s name.

  “I’m Trixie, Ellis’ assistant. He told me to find you.” A woman in capri pants and a shirt with Meat’s face on it calls from a set of closed doors.

  “Oh, okay…” I smile sheepishly at the women I was bothering with my rambling. “Thanks anyway.”

  “Wait,” one of them calls from behind the table. “Are you Ellis’ girlfriend?”

  The laughter bubbles up my throat and there is no way to contain it. I shake my head no and try not to allow it to escape as I walk toward Trixie. The door opens and I freeze in my tracks. There is a line of women off to the right of a humongous banner of Meat in very small shorts. When I say shorts what I really mean is panties, for men, if they make those. I look down in embarrassment, but it sort of turns me on. When I look back up he is grinning at me and waves me over.

  “How do you know Ellis?” Trixie asks as we walk to where Meat is now standing with a woman in her thirties who has her arm around his bare waist. He’s smiling and posing for a picture. The woman’s hands are rubbing his abs.

  Ignoring her question, I pick up a calendar off the table. “He selling these?”

  “Yes, if you want it grab it, you can pay me. He’s going to run out.” Okay, I’m torn here. I don’t want a calendar of a male model, but one I’ve screwed...maybe.

  “How much?”

  “Twenty dollars,” she answers.

  Twenty fucking dollars? I pull out a twenty and hand it to her. Wow. That’s a first, but how hilarious will it be for me to have this in my kitchen for the next year?

  “Sunshine,” Meat says quietly and pulls me into a hug. I go rigid and I’m completely uncomfortable, I’m still holding his calendar. The women in line are looking at me like they may cut me with things hidden in the big bags they are carrying. “I’m going to take a five minute break, hit the head.” He announces this like it’s an interesting tidbit for everyone standing within earshot to know. “I would have given you one of those,” he offers when he sees my calendar.

  They all swoon, like all of them, even Trixie. I’m looking around like I’m in the twilight zone. There is a lady who looks like my grandmother who grabs his ass as we walk by. A lady that looks exactly like my sister is in front of us, slipping her phone number in his pocket, deep in his pocket.

  “Hey Ellis,” someone calls from behind us. He grabs my hand and we both turn to see a woman in electric blue leather pants and six inch pink heels. “Don’t forget about dinner tonight in my room.” She winks and walks back in the room.

  What in the actual fuck is going on right now?

  “I’m so sorry, I was told I’d be done by now. I think it might be another hour. Can you wait?”

  I pull my hand out of his. “No.” I’m not going to be fucking him while he’s fucking other people the same day. I have some standards. I know, not many, but some. I will tell you if you saw this fucker’s abs and ass you would say you’d take him any way you could get him.

  “Okay, then I’ll just come down to your place when I’m done. I’m exhausted though. Could you see if we could get massages and then room service?”

  “Wait, am I your personal assistant, I thought Trixie would arrange those things for you.” My tone is snarky.

  “She would, but I’d like to include you in my massage, and then I’d like to massage you. Trixie can’t really arrange that for me Sunshine, only you can.”

  I blink at him. He’s not going to hot pants’ room, he’s coming to mine.

  “I’m just going to crash with you tonight, okay?” He leans in and kisses my cheek.

  Hearing gasps, I look around. Women are staring and taking pictures with their phones.

  “What the fuck is going on?” I whisper.

  “I’ll explain it all later. Don’t forget the photo shoot in the morning. We’ll just leave from your place, okay?”

  This is surreal. I’m a little confused by what’s happening, but I hear Laura’s voice in my brain and decide to just go with it.

  “So I’ll give you an hour to get there too. If you miss the massage I may allow the guy to give me a happy ending, so be on time. I’ll text you.”

  “Aw Sunshine, I can’t wait to bend you over the massage table,” he whispers in my ear. Then he turns and saunters into the bathroom.

  “I’ll bend you over the table.” I blink. It doesn’t make any sense, but he’s too far away to have heard my reply. I pull out my phone to text Laura but feel a million eyes on me. I shrink under the glare of...the women of Ellis Land. Their shirts say that…I’m in another dimension and I hightail it out of there as fast as I can.

  I text Laura as soon as I ge
t on the escalator down to the casino floor.

  I cannot wait to tell you what just happened to me. I’m pretty sure the name of this conference is #vagfest

  My phone buzzes immediately.

  Best hashtag ever.

  I am snacking on Garrett’s Popcorn and wandering around the mall when I realize I’ve seen the same store like four times. I’m lost. This place is like a fucking corn maze or a rat trap. That’s how I feel, like a rat in one of those plastic tubes. I think I’m going somewhere, but I end up right where I started. I need a drink. Ooooo, there’s a bar.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Happy Endings are Real

  I groan as hands glide up my ass. As the breeze hits my nether region I squeeze my thighs together. My libido is in overdrive on this trip, I swear I’m not like this normally. Strong hands rub up and down my shins and then down to my right foot, his thumb pressing circles into my heel.

  The sigh I release is so loud I open my eyes, look over to my right and find brown eyes pinning me to the table. Warm, silky strokes up my legs have my table moving and a smirk appears on his chiseled face. His eyes continue to hold mine, even with all the rubbing. It’s like we are urging them to hurry so we can get on to our own massages.

  I close my eyes and must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know thumbs are rubbing my ass very inappropriately in an awesome way. The room is still dim with candles flickering and spa music filtering through the air and the touching that shouldn’t happen in a massage continues. He’s barely caressing me and it’s driving me insane. I hear the table creak under a heavy weight and feel Meat lower his body onto mine. He drops kisses along the back of my neck. His skin is softer than mine I think again, and it sort of bothers me.

  His finger enters me and my hips lift unconsciously. “Oh Sunshine, you ready for me?” He pulls me up so I’m on my hands and knees.

  “If you don’t start now, I’ll start by myself.”