by Jessica Wood
When I opened the door, my body stiffened at the sight of her.
“Shit, it’s you.” It was Alexis.
“Oh,” she frowned and I saw the disappointment on her face by my reaction. An unexpected ripple of guilt ran through me.
“Uh, sorry. That’s not what I meant. You just caught me off guard.” I tried to backtrack as I walked out of my apartment and closed the door behind me. If she was disappointed by my comment, I didn’t want to see her reaction if she found out that I wasn’t alone in my apartment. We had a date coming up in four days and I didn’t want anything to ruin my chances with her that night.
“Maybe this was a bad time. I’m sorry,” she said, her cheeks as red as roses. I saw her shift uncomfortably as her eyes landed on my towel and noticed my erection poking through.
“No, not at all,” I insisted and laughed. “I ...” I noticed her eyes dart toward my nakedness and smiled. “I was just working out and built up a sweat. And well”—I looked down at my erection and laughed—“I was just about to get into the shower and let out some steam.”
“Oh. Do you have company? I thought I heard something.”
I was surprised by the directness of her question.
For some reason, it pained me to lie to her. But I also knew that I couldn’t tell her the truth—not if I wanted a chance with her, not if I wanted to ever see her again. I knew she was not one of those girls who would still agree to see me if she knew I was with another girl.
“No,” I said quickly. “No, it was probably just the TV. I just turned it off and was about to jump into the shower.”
I looked into her eyes and saw the uncertainty painted over her face.
“Care to join and help me out?” I asked with smirk, motioning down towards my erection with my eyes. I knew very well that she would not say yes, but I hoped it would convince her that I was indeed alone.
“No,” she said with a slight disgust in her voice. “I”—she looked away from me—“I should go.”
Shit, this is not going well.
I sighed and grabbed her arm gently. “Hey, hey. Stop. Let’s start from the beginning,” I suggested.
“Okay?” She looked at me uncertainly.
I gave her a dazzling smile and pulled her towards me for a hug.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I said as I kissed her on the cheek. I caught a whiff of her sweet, subtle scent that made me inch closer into her neck to inhale more of her essence.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“Did you stop by for something?” I asked. Our eyes met and I felt an unfamiliar warmth radiate through me.
“Yeah. I”—she paused again—“I just wanted to confirm our thing on Friday.”
I smiled at her. I knew she just wanted to see me. I had already texted her on Saturday to let her know that I was going to take her to Swan Oyster Depo on Friday.
“You mean our date?” I asked. Normally, calling a get-together with a girl a date would cause a negative visceral reaction from me. But for some reason, calling our Friday get-together a date with Alexis didn’t feel so bad.
At the mention of the word, she gave me a warm smile, and I was happy that I had used the word. “Yes, our date,” she agreed.
“Yup. We’re all set for Friday. I’ll stop by your apartment to pick you up at seven p.m.”
“Okay, great. Thanks.”
I chuckled at how sweet she was.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just cute that you thanked me just now.”
“Oh,” she replied, and I saw her cheeks flush like a ripe Georgia peach. “Don’t let it get to your head,” she said boldly.
“And there’s the feistiness I knew was coming,” I teased.
She giggled and rolled her eyes.
“Okay, I’ll let you shower and take care of business,” she said sarcastically as her eyes darted down at my still hard erection that greeted her from under the towel.
I laughed. “It’s a shame you can’t help out.”
She rolled her eyes again. “See you on Friday, Damian.” She then turned and walked away, leaving me wanting more of what I had just felt seconds ago.
I went back into my apartment and closed the door behind me. I heard the shower still running in the bathroom and remembered that there was a girl in there, waiting to get fucked by me. I looked down at my cock, which was still up and ready for some action.
I’ll just fuck her and kick her out. Why waste a perfectly fine piece of ass that’s ready, willing, and waiting?
But when I got into the shower and saw the naked blonde waiting for me, I knew my heart—and my cock—was no longer in it anymore. I mindlessly went through the motions to achieve my climax and kicked her out after she had cleaned up.
After the girl left, I sank into my couch and started watching ESPN.
Friday cannot come soon enough. The thought popped into my head as I passed out on my couch, drowning in thoughts of Alexis.
CHAPTER NINE
Alexis
“HEY, GORGEOUS,” DAMIAN SAID IN A husky voice as he pulled me into him—pressing me against his naked, hard bronze chest—and gave me a kiss on the cheek. My breath stilled as I felt his erection press against me.
“Hi,” I said as my eyes darted to the erection poking out of the towel that was wrapped tightly around his waist. A part of me wanted to see it, to touch it, and to feel it, and yet another part of me wondered if he was in fact alone. I knew he was not a guy I could trust. I knew I was taking a risk with my heart to let him in. But I couldn’t help myself for wanting to get to know him better.
“Did you stop by for something?” he asked. I thought I heard a hint of worry in his voice, but when our eyes met, all I saw was the richness of his warm, blue eyes and I felt myself melt into them.
“Yeah. I…” I paused, trying to think through the fog that had covered my thoughts. “I just wanted to confirm our thing on Friday.” I really hadn’t stopped by his place to confirm our date. But ever since I saw him last Thursday night, I had been consumed with thoughts of him and it had been driving me crazy—so crazy that I’d acted out on my urge to come see him.
“You mean our date?” he asked with an amused look on his face. I couldn’t help but smile at him when I heard him call it a date.
“Yes, our date.”
“Yup. We’re all set for Friday. I’ll stop by your apartment to pick you up at seven p.m.” He smiled at me and I resisted an urge to kiss him goodbye.
“Okay, great. Thanks,” I said excitedly.
He chuckled at my response.
“What?” I asked defensively.
“Nothing. It’s just cute that you thanked me just now.”
“Oh.” I felt my face grow hot at how easily he could get to me. “Don’t let it get to your head,” I shot back. I couldn’t allow him to think he had such a strong hold on me.
“And there’s the feistiness I knew was coming,” he laughed.
I laughed and rolled my eyes. I was amazed at how easy and natural our rapport was.
“Okay, I’ll let you shower and take care of business,” I teased as I shot one last glance at the towel.
He laughed. “It’s a shame you can’t help out.”
Yes, it is. He had no idea how tempted I was to take him up on the offer.
“See you on Friday, Damian.” I smiled before I turned to walk away, feeling even more excited about Friday than I had minutes earlier.
***
I looked over at the tiny clock hanging in my bathroom.
Crap! I was already running late. Damian should be stopping by in a few minutes for our date. I looked at myself in the mirror. This is as good as it’s going to get, I thought.
I had spent the last hour trying to do my makeup. But the problem was, I rarely wore makeup. So even after an hour of trying different things, I still had not successfully recreated the look the girl at Sephora had taught me to do when she gave me a complimentary makeover. Instead, I had washed my face at lea
st half a dozen times to remove my failed attempts of looking effortlessly stunning. Somehow I had managed to make myself look like a hooker, a goth girl, and a clown, but nothing remotely close to anything “effortlessly stunning.”
I would never admit it to anyone, but I wanted more than anything for him to find me attractive. So for this date, I’d wanted to make some effort to look amazing. In fact, I had even gone to a salon and got a Brazilian wax. It had been my first time, and it had fucking hurt. I hadn’t liked the idea of removing all my hair though. It made me feel naked. So the waxologist had suggested a landing strip.
So there I was, staring at myself in the mirror that was hanging in my bathroom, wearing a green shell top with a beige cardigan, a pair dark-washed skinny jeans, and black stilettos, and yet, I felt more naked than I’d ever felt.
This is not you, Alexis! the rational part of me screamed inside me, reminding me of all the red flags that have popped up when it came to Damian.
And yet, I couldn’t seem to stop myself from wanting to see where things would go with him. I couldn’t seem to stop myself from hoping that maybe there was something special between us. So even though every sign told me that Damian was one of those bad boy player types and nothing good could come out of spending time with him, I couldn’t help but want to get to know him. I couldn’t help but want him to also get to know me.
Just then, my doorbell rang.
He’s here!
I took one last look at myself in mirror. “What a waste of an hour,” I said with a laugh and shook my head. I looked pretty much the same as I had before I’d spent $125 at Sephora. I had on a light dust of blush on my cheeks, some mascara, and some Chapstick.
When I got to my front door, I took a deep breath before opening it. Just see where it goes, I reminded myself.
I opened the door and my heart stopped as I saw him standing there, looking effortlessly handsome in a simple grey t-shirt and jeans.
When he saw me, his piercing blue eyes lit up and seemed to twinkle. A mega-watt dazzling smile spread on his face.
“Hi,” I said breathlessly and smiled back. There was something about him that always brought a smile to my face—something beyond his undeniable sex appeal and charm.
“Hey, gorgeous.” He pulled me into him for a hug and I allowed myself to sink into his warm, hard, protective chest. I inhaled deeply, hypnotized by his scent—a mixture of aftershave and sweat with a hint of Tide.
As I felt him pull me closer into him and bury his face into my hair, I thought I was going to melt in the simple perfection of this moment.
“What are you wearing?” he whispered in my ear as we finally pulled away from one another.
I frowned and looked at him uncertainly. “Umm. I’m not sure. Gap, I think,” I said self-consciously as I looked down at my clothes, wondering if I should have worn something else.
He chuckled. “No, I didn’t mean what clothes. But good to know. I knew there was something different about you that I liked.”
I looked at him in confusion.
“You’re probably the first girl I’ve met that didn’t seem to care about what they’re wearing. It’s really refreshing,” he explained as he studied me. “And you look beautiful,” he reassured.
“Oh.” I gave him a small smile as I felt blood rush to my cheeks. “So what did you actually mean then?” I asked quickly, trying to change the subject.
“I meant, what perfume do you wear? You always smell amazing.”
I blushed and felt flattered by his comment. “Um, I don’t wear any,” I admitted.
“Unbelievable,” he said as his jaw tightened.
“What?” Can he be upset by that?
“Nothing. It’s just… You have no idea the things I’d like to do with you,” he teased as he gave me a suggestive smirk.
I giggled. “Well, behave yourself. I never agreed to be one of those girls you sleep with. You’re taking me out on this date—nothing more, nothing less,” I said firmly.
He laughed. “I make no promises,” he said with a deep husky voice. “If the mood strikes you, just let me know. I’ll have you against a dark corner, no matter where we are, in a hot second if you were okay with it.”
“And look at you. Such a gentlemen.”
“Okay, don’t tease me like that,” he warned playfully. “I don’t think I—or my other half for that matter”—he gestured down to his crotch—“can take it much longer.”
“Well, you’re just too easy,” I teased back. I loved how comfortable and natural I felt around him.
“Okay, come on. I have a cab waiting for us downstairs. Let’s get going now before I stop being a gentleman and punish you for teasing me for this long and just take you now against your front doorframe.”
There was something in the hoarseness of his voice that seemed to flip on a switch inside me, igniting a raw desire that I hadn’t known existed. A part of me wanted him to follow through on his threats to punish me. A part of me wanted him to grab me and take me hard against the doorframe.
I blinked and shook myself back into reality. “Yeah, sure. I’m ready.”
Fifteen minutes later, we had been dropped off in front of Swan’s Oyster Depo on Polk Street. It was a small, brightly lit shop with a blue awning with a swan logo. From the outside, it looked like an unassuming old-fashioned fish market that sold fresh local seafood. Visible at the window display in the front of the shop were trays full of various raw and cooked seafood selections, and half of the items I didn’t recognize.
Damian looked over at me and laughed as he saw the uncertain expression on my face. “They serve some of the freshest clam chowder and lobster meat.”
“Oh. So it’s not just a market?”
He chuckled. “No. Come on. Do you really think I’d offer to take you out and take you to a raw fish market?”
I struggled but smiled at him. “Well, with you, I can never be too sure,” I teased. “Also, it looks so tiny,” I noted. The shop took up no more than ten feet of the street.
“Big enough,” he laughed. “Now come on. Let’s go in. I see some people getting up to leave inside.” He motioned to the small front door.
As we squeezed into the front door to replace the two customers who had just paid and walked out the door, I smiled. The place was filled with excited chatter and packed with people. He was right. The place was much bigger than it looked from the outside. It was a long, narrow space that went back at least five times the length of the front of the shop.
There were five waiters bustling around, each of them dressed in fishmonger attire with long white aprons over t-shirt and jeans. As my eyes darted around the shop, one of the waiters nodded at us and directed us to the only two empty stools that lined the long marble counter. We sat down and I looked around in awe from the large swordfish hanging against the wall to the numerous posters of different fish to the various signed football jerseys that hung on the walls. My nose registered the fresh smell of the sea that permeated the place, and I inhaled deeply and welcomed a rich savory aroma of what I could only guess to be the clam chowder Damian had mentioned.
“What do you think?” Damian asked as he studied my reaction.
I smiled up at him. “This place is amazing! This is so different from what I expected.”
He looked at me expectantly. “And what exactly did you expect?” he asked with a smirk.
I laughed. “Well, to be honest, something more…trendy? Or maybe something more like a dark, seedy bar?”
“Ouch. I’m starting to understand what type of person you think I am.” Something in his voice made me wonder if there was a hint of seriousness in his comment.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I…” I looked at him. “You’re just so flirtatious and cocky. I think I just thought you’d pick something that fits that personality more.”
Then his expression became more serious. “You know what, Alexis?”
He left the question hanging and I immediately regrett
ed my comments.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to judge you that way. I …” My voice trailed off when I saw a gleam in his eyes that betrayed his serious look.
“You know what, Alexis?” he repeated, waiting for me to respond to him.
Okay, I’ll bite. “What?”
“I’m more than just a pretty face,” he said as he burst into a fit a laughter.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “And this is why I judge you.”
Just then, one of the waiters came by to take our order.
“Oh, I haven’t even looked at the menu,” I admitted as I looked at the simple menu that was posted in front of us on the wall.
“Do you like beer?” Damian asked.
“Of course.”
“Perfect. I like a girl who drinks beer.” He then looked at the waiter. “Two Achor Steam Boats please,” he said as he pointed at the beer on tap.
He leaned toward me and I caught a whiff of his cologne. “It’s an SF beer and has been around since the late 1800s. I think you’ll like it.”
“Oh, cool. Thanks.” I then looked up at the wall to study the menu.
“What can I getcha?” our waiter asked as he placed our beers in front of us.
I wasn’t sure what to get. I’d never had any of these things before—unless you considered Campbell’s Clam Chowder soup.
Damian seemed to sense my apprehension. “Why don’t we order a mixed batch of the dozen oysters?”
“Sure,” I agreed. “I had no idea there were different kinds of oysters.”
He laughed and ordered a whole crab for himself and a dozen oysters for us to share. I ordered a bowl of clam chowder and shrimp salad—two items I was familiar with.
As I nursed my beer, I smiled as I watched him take his first gulp of from his beer and casually comb his hand through his chestnut brown hair that fell back in its perfectly tousled position.
“So why did you take me here?” I asked as we watched our waiter shuck and prepare our dozen of assorted oysters a few feet away.
“Well, this is one of my favorite places in SF,” he explained.
And I’m sure this has nothing to do with the fact that oysters are an aphrodisiac, I thought sarcastically to myself.
