“Talk to you later,” I reply, and without another word, he hails a cab and heads out.
I start walking back home to my apartment. It’s not too far and it’s a beautiful morning out. Considering I’m in heels, it may not be the best idea, but I had a pleasant night and wouldn’t mind some time alone in the sun with my thoughts. Of course I’m getting some judgmental glares on my way home, but I don’t care. I don’t know any of these people and what I do is none of their business.
I pull my cell phone from my purse and dial Rachel’s number. She doesn’t answer and I realize she’s probably already on her way to work. I leave her a message and let her know I’m working a double, if she wants to stop in for dinner or drinks and keep me company.
I reach my building and wave to the doorman as I make my way to the elevator. I wait and smile at one of my neighbors as she looks me up and down on her way out. Fuck her—even with her snotty look, I know she’s jealous. We both know who got some last night, and it sure wasn’t her. I press the button and ride the elevator up to the twenty-first floor.
As I amble around my apartment getting ready for work, I can’t help but think of Jayson again. We barely spent five minutes together, yet I can’t get him off my mind. God, he was so sexy and instantly got me hot without even touching me. I can only imagine what would happen if he actually got his hands on me.
I replay our brief conversation in my head. He definitely had some balls using a line like that on me. There are lots of women who would have slapped him for saying something like that, but to my surprise, I’m not one of them.
I hate players. But I can’t get Jayson out of my mind. What the hell is wrong with me?
As much as I hate wearing a uniform, it does make getting dressed for work pretty easy—black pants, tight black tee, and when I get to there, I’ll add the black apron. I don’t mind my job, but I can’t wait to finish school and work in the real world. I’m still not sure what it is I want to do, but I know I don’t want to be wearing a uniform when I do it.
I take one last look in the mirror, grab my purse and keys and head back out for the lunch shift.
4
JAYSON
* * *
I wish I could remember her name, especially since I just fucked her. I would have asked her again at the bar, but I didn’t really care, and by the time I actually went to say it her lips were around my cock, so it would have been rude. I love a good lay and know how to find one, but it would be nice to have to work for it every once in a while. What’s the use of having all these God-given skills when you never get to use them?
She’s sleeping, partly because of the fruity vodka drinks she was sucking down all night and partly because of the screaming orgasms I gave her. I’m going to have to wake her and ask her to leave soon, but I would love to remember her name so I don’t come off like a total dickhead. Angela? Amanda?
It doesn’t take me long to give up wracking my brain for an answer. Whatever, they’re all the same.
Ashley. Ashley isn’t the same. I only met her just last night, but I sure as hell remember her name. Every fiber of my being wants to make her cum so fucking hard. I can do that to any woman, but I want to do it to her. I want to hear her say my name while she’s trembling and dripping all over my cock with those long, luscious legs wrapped around my waist.
Thinking about her is getting me hard, but I don’t really want to bang this girl again. I had a long night and I don't want to have to talk to her and make things awkward.
I give the blonde a little nudge to try and rouse her. She stirs, but she’s not waking up. I go a little harder this time and her eyes open. She really is beautiful, but she’s got to go.
“Hey, baby. It’s time to go. I have to get ready for work.”
She smiles at me and rolls over. Really, she’s got to go. I don’t feel bad asking her to leave so soon—she was way too easy and eager to be the kind of girl that’s never fucked a guy she just met. No way she didn’t know what she was getting into. I get up out of the bed to get my point across and she looks up at me.
“You still look hot in the daylight. Do you have any coffee?” She yawns, making her way too slowly out of my bed.
“Sorry, I don’t drink coffee,” I lie, “but there’s a deli across the street.”
She bats her eyelashes and asks, “Wanna come with me?” She seems nice for a girl who couldn’t keep her clothes on long enough to get out of the elevator and was barely in a bra by the time she reached my door.
“Can’t, sweetheart. I have to get showered up and hit the road,” I reply.
She gets up and starts looking around for her clothes. As she walks around collecting them, I think of Ashley again. I would have made her coffee—after some amazing morning sex. Dammit. Thinking about her even for a hot minute gives me an instant hard-on. What is it about her that’s getting me so hot?
What’s-her-name is finally putting her slutty heels back on and preparing for our awkward goodbye. She doesn’t bother asking me to call her because by now she realizes I never will. I walk her to the door and we quickly kiss on the lips and smile at each other as she leaves.
“Thanks, Jayson. I had a great time.”
“Me too,” I reply with my sweetest smile as I close the door. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass, I think to myself as I go to shower up.
I really enjoy a long, hot shower in the morning. Especially after a night of dirty sex. The girl was beautiful and she knew how to work it, but she was nothing special. None of them are. They give me what I want and I make sure to thank them for it. Once in a while I will actually take a woman out to dinner, but I honestly don’t care enough to get to know them that well. I keep busy with work, and that satisfies me in other ways.
I like to work with my hands and be physical, but I need to use my brain, too. Owning my own construction company gives me the best of both. I can be hands-on at any time and work alongside my men, and other times I can play the businessman role, making deals and decisions. The money is great, too. I really do have everything I need.
I continue to think about the day ahead as I towel off and throw my work clothes on. I will be helping my men lay the footing for a new building going up in Long Island City. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look good. The women I’m with always compliment my body. Even when they’re not interested, I can still see the hungry look in their eyes—like the one Ashley had. She can deny it all she wants, but I could tell she wanted a taste.
I picture her again and find myself hoping to run into her somehow. If I had a little more time, and if her friend wasn’t around, I know I could break her down.
5
ASHLEY
* * *
Lunch was busy, which makes the day go by faster. It also means more money in my pocket, which is even better. After I clean the tables in my section and reset everything for the dinner crowd, I pour myself a lemonade and go sit at a table outside to relax and enjoy my break. I take my phone out to kill some time and see I have a couple of texts and a voicemail.
One text is from Rachel letting me know she’ll probably stop in after dinner, which I reply to with a smiley face. One is from my brother sarcastically asking if I am excited for tomorrow night. I reply to him in the same tone: More than anything ever.
Tomorrow night we are supposed to go to my mom’s house on Long Island where she will be introducing us to Tom, her boyfriend of several months. Supposedly, they’re in love.
It’s not that I’m not happy for her—I know she had a tough time after my father left, and I don’t blame her. Twenty-two years of marriage and then he tells her he’s in love with someone else. Someone else was Katie, a girl not much older than myself. He met her when he had knee surgery. She was a physical therapy intern. Apparently, she knew how to take care of more than just his leg.
Mom wrote off men for a long time. When we finally convinced her to get back in the game, she used an online dating site and met a couple of real lo
sers. She probably would have given up except her friend, Carol, had introduced her to Tom, a divorcée from her husband’s golf club. It took him a while to woo her, but according to my mom, that first date was all it took.
Now, almost a year later, we will officially meet Tom and his sons. I’m sure if nothing else, it will be interesting.
I finish my lemonade and send a text to Michael. Hope you’re having a great day, with a smiley face blowing a kiss. I know he doesn’t like to talk on the phone at work, but he can text quick if he wants.
I hit “play” and listen to my voicemail message. It’s my mom, Cynthia. She sounds excited and nervous and says she’s looking forward to meeting Michael. She also asks me to bring dessert to her house “if I have time,” which is her way of saying “bake something or I will make you feel guilty that you didn’t.” Tomorrow’s my day off, so I can cook something before I head out.
The rest of my night goes pretty smoothly, and even though so many people leave the city for the weekends during the summer, we stay busy. I only have a couple of tables left when I see Rachel walk in.
Rachel is gorgeous and always turning heads. Being a yoga instructor is her dream job. She has a huge following and her classes are always full. She carries herself with an air of confidence that draws people in. Men are always attracted to her and she has no problem telling them when she’s not interested. She can be sweet, but if you rub her the wrong way, she can tear you to pieces.
She strolls up to the bar and smiles at Sam, the bartender. I have been working here long enough that he knows she’s my friend. I walk over and say hello as Sam hands her a glass of white wine.
“I just have a couple of tables left and I’m done,” I tell her as I go to ring the last of the bills into the register.
“No worries. I don’t mind having a drink while I wait. It’s been that kind of day,” she says, rolling her eyes as she takes a long sip of her wine.
Rachel drinks and talk to Sam as he serves the other few patrons at the bar and cleans up from the night. I close out my checks, clean my station, and head into the bathroom to wash my hands and face before joining Rachel.
I dry my face and take a look at my phone. I’m a little disappointed—Michael never returned my text from this afternoon.
I head back out to the bar to sit next to Rachel. Sam already has a merlot poured for me. I love a glass of wine at the end of the night. Helps me unwind.
“I was just telling Sam about my day,” she says. “This jerk-off came to my class for the first time. I can always spot a pervert right away. You know that guy who’s there just to meet chicks and look at their asses? Well, he came into the wrong yoga studio. I won’t get into it, but before the end of class, he was leaving with his tail between his legs and won’t be looking to hook up at a yoga studio any time soon.” She smiles in a self-satisfied way as she takes the last sip of wine from her glass and motions to Sam for a refill.
“What’s with men, anyway?” she muses, not really looking for an answer. I can tell she’s already a little buzzed and she’s only one glass in. “Like that guy last night. What a prick. He treated you like he could say anything at all and you’d just drop your panties for him out of principle.” Sam hands her another glass and she sips.
If only she knew that I’d fantasized all night about exactly that. But I couldn’t share that with her, even though she’s my best friend. She’s seen me fall for the bad boy too many times. I can’t imagine what she would say if I told her.
“Men are so stupid,” Rachel finishes at last. “I mean, most of them. I’m glad I found Chris when I did or I might have given up all together.”
Then she looks at me. “Michael seems like a great guy too, Ash. Maybe he’ll be The One.”
“I don’t know. I thought we were going somewhere, but with the way things have been between us lately, I’m not sure they are,” I say out loud for the first time. “I mean, he doesn’t even ask me to leave a change of clothes or a toothbrush or anything at his place. You would think after all the nights I’ve spent there it would be common courtesy.” I’m realizing I feel worse about this than I thought.
“Well, you’ve only been together a few months, but I see what you’re saying,” Rachel replies with a glum look “Maybe he just wants to take it slow.”
“Maybe,” I answer, thinking she could be right. I’m not even twenty yet and he’s only a few years older. I know he’s had a couple long-term relationships that ended badly. Maybe he’s just looking to play it safe, kind of like I am.
“Sometimes I think I should’ve stuck with the bad boys. At least I know what to expect from them—nothing.” I’m only half-joking.
And suddenly I’m thinking of Jayson again. I can’t help it. He is a player and definitely a bad boy, but I know he would more than satisfy me sexually. If he can make me squirm without even touching me, I can only imagine how he would make me feel with those big, full lips sucking their way down from my neck to my breasts and then my pussy, which would be so wet by the time he pressed his tongue into it.
I snap back into reality. We are talking about Michael, not some random asshole I met for two minutes at a bar.
“You’re crazy Ash. Stick it out with Michael. Maybe you can have a nice guy and mind-blowing sex. You’re amazing and you deserve to have it both ways.” Rachel always knows how to make me feel good about myself.
I smile at her. “Thanks.”
We continue chit-chatting for a while at the bar. I remind her that I’m going to meet my mom’s boyfriend tomorrow night. I wish she could come to keep me company. Michael’s going, sure, but there’s just something about a best friend that always makes everything better.
And truthfully, even when Michael and I are together, I’ve started feeling alone.
We finish our drinks, say goodnight, and leave the restaurant together. The east side of Manhattan is always busy, even on a summer weekend. We pass through groups of people smoking outside bars and waiting to get into others. When we get to my apartment, we say goodnight and Rachel blows me a kiss before walking to her own home just a few blocks from mine.
I’m lost in thought while I fumble with my keys and open the door. Michael still hasn’t responded to my text and I don’t think I’ll call him again tonight. Until that night at the bar—until I met Jayson—I’d thought things between Michael and I were going pretty well, but now that I’ve felt that spark, I can’t help but wonder what I’m missing out on.
I realize with a start that I’ve never felt like this about Michael.
A vision of Jayson appears in my head, which is senseless. He meant nothing and forgot about me in minutes, which was apparent by the way he had his hands all over that blonde. Why was I wasting my time even thinking of him?
Because I wanted him in a purely animal way. I wanted to feel his big cock inside me, his hard body on top of mine. Feel his hot breath on my neck again. I was getting worked up just thinking about it. Maybe nice guys don’t do it for me, or maybe like Rachel says, I deserve both.
I mentally plan my morning as I get ready for bed. Maybe Michael and I will have some time to talk on the train and I can see what he thinks about me and our relationship. Maybe he’s just scared to get too close too soon.
I get in bed and fall asleep easily after my long day at work. I try not to hold it against my subconscious when I dream about Jayson.
* * *
_____
* * *
I wake up early and throw on some clothes so I can head to the grocery store. I decided I’ll make my mom’s favorite—strawberry shortcake with homemade whipped cream. It’s easy enough to make and I know she’ll appreciate it.
I call Michael on my way to the store and get his voicemail. It’s early yet, so he’s probably still sleeping. I leave a message for him.
Getting what I need from the store doesn’t take long. Back at home, I mix my batter and put my shortcake in the oven. I whip the cream and mix the strawberries and sugar. I cl
ean up the kitchen and by the time the timer goes off, my counters and sink are looking spotless. I take the cake out and go take a shower so I can get ready to leave.
My phone starts ringing as I get out, but it’s not near me, so I let it go to voicemail. I dry off and get dressed, but before doing my makeup, I hurry into the other room and grab my phone. I’m going to have to leave soon and still haven’t spoken to Michael. I’m hoping he’s the one who called.
When I look at my screen I have a notification for a missed call and voicemail. I press “play” and hear Michael’s voice on the other end.
“Hey, Ash. Sorry we didn’t get to talk yesterday. I’m not going to be able to go with you today. Honestly, I just… I just can’t. I don’t think I’m ready to meet your family. Not that there’s anything wrong with you, or them, it’s just… me. I’m not ready. I hope you understand. We’ll talk later, okay? Promise. Bye.” And that was it.
Is he fucking kidding me? My “nice guy” boyfriend is ditching me via voicemail! Is he breaking up with me? Or is he just scared to meet my family?
Screw this. I call him back. He picks up after the fourth ring.
“Hey, Ash,” Michael says hesitantly.
“Hey, Michael. What’s up?” I’m trying to sound nonchalant but I’m not sure how it’s coming across when my teeth are clenched and my hands are shaking.
“I don’t know. I was thinking about going to your mother’s house, and it just doesn’t seem right.”
I swallow the venom rising up from my throat. “Could you be a little more specific?”
Michael sighs. “Look, I like you. A lot. And I love hanging out with you. But lately, I’ve realized I don’t see our relationship going to the next level.”
I realize now that part of me saw this coming. All the signs were there. All the red flags. But the force of his confession still hits me like a ton of bricks, and I have to sit down. “You… don’t?”
PUCK (A BAD BOY HOCKEY ROMANCE) Page 15
